#something something golden child complex

[willowcrowned]

the thing about qui gon and rael is that like. rael thinks qui gon is the version of him who didn't fail, right? qui gon was the one who didn't have to kill his padawan in the end. qui gon was the one who didn't fuck up in a way that unmade him. and qui gon knows that. qui gon believes that. qui gon thinks that all that's standing between him and the utter destruction of what's left of rael is the bare fact that he wasn't the one to physically kill his padawan. rael for qui gon is a version of himself that he hates. and that's something he can't ever acknowledge

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[starry-bi-sky]

"Stillborn? No, no, still born." -- DPXDC AU

Based off a comment I saw where Bruce knew about Talia's pregnancy in the earlier comivs, and was ecstatic to be a father. So much so that Talia feared he'd give up being Batman for it, so when she gave birth she put the baby (Damian) on a doorstep and (seemingly) told Bruce that the baby was stillborn.

Instead of Damian, that baby was Danny! Meet Daniel Brown, the 14 year old foster kid whose been living with the Fenton family for the last two years. He's about two years older than Damian.

His last name, "Brown", was a generic surname given to him because the note he came with didn't have one on it. It just had the name "Danyal" on it, but albeit 'Daniel' was the one that had been put into the system for, I'll be totally frank here, racism reasons.

(I looked it up to make sure, and it's generally not permissible for foster parents to change the names of their foster kids even if it's a permanent residency, and for that reason Danny doesn't have the last name "Fenton".)

Danny's got ✨~issues!~✨ He's been through a handful of homes growing up, most of them terrible for a variety of reasons. Which has, as a result, left lasting scars. He's generally a very sweet kid, just very distrustful and jumpy. He's got the signs of a kid suffering from PTSD, and a handful of other issues including attachment and insomnia. His inferiority complex could rival Damian's, and that's going to make for an interesting mutual hatred for when they finally meet.

(something I'll get into later)

He still has the blanket he was found in. It's made of a very high quality material and is a beautiful emerald green with little golden thread accents, it's high quality as a result has Danny clinging onto a desperate hope that his bio family might be out there, and the only reason they gave him up was because of some outside factor. It's been taken a few times in old foster homes, and he's flipped out each time.

While he still calls Jack and Maddie by their names, he likes them well enough. The bar isn't that high though, and while they're some of the better foster parents he's had, "better" doesn't equal "safest". Their laboratory malpractice. Basically, C- Fenton Parents. They're negligent by virtue of being engrossed in their work, but they do care equally about Jazz and Danny. So he doesn't hold it against them that much.

He kinda prefers it that way, their loud affection is overwhelming and Danny doesn't know what to do with their attention, even if he craves it. It's a bit of a complicated situation.

They took in Danny because they genuinely wanted another child, but didn't want a big age gap between them and Jazz. It was actually Jack's idea to foster, and they discussed it with Jazz beforehand. She was all for the idea. Thus, a handful of weeks later, a ton of paperwork, and inspection later, and Daniel Brown entered their household with a trash bag in one hand and eyes like shards of stained glass.

His relationship with Jazz is kinda strained, but that's by virtue of her constant psychoanalyzing and helicoptering. Like with the parents, Danny's overwhelmed by the attention and also just, straight up doesn't like the fact that she's telling him that there's something wrong with him. He knows that, thank you. He pushes her away when she does this.

Other than that though? When Jazz isn't smothering him and is acting like an actual sibling and not a third parent, they're pretty close, and Danny really likes her. They've hung out a few times on their own volition, and Jazz showed him how to take better care of his long hair.

His school situation,, pretty similar to canon with the bullying, albeit with a few more instances of him blowing a fuse and lashing out against his attackers. He's a rather angry kid, but it's quiet. It builds up, piles on top of itself, until eventually, like a volcano, it erupts and burns everyone within radius.

Danny's got a fire core, not an ice core. Phantom's hair is made of white magma; thick and heavy, setting itself on fire when his anger runs hot. When he gets angry, his skin begins to char and split open to reveal pulsating lava underneath, and he crackles and pops like a raging forest fire.

I haven't decided yet on how he meets the batfam -- i've got two ideas but they're both in opposition to each other, and drastically alter how the rest of the plot goes. But I do know that him and Damian hate each other in the beginning. And it has nothing to do with inheritance or "being the blood son" -- although their blood relation absolutely plays the major role in their disdain for each other.

Simply put, they're jealous of each other for the same thing: thinking that the other was wanted.

Damian hates Danny because, unlike Damian, Bruce knew about Danny since conception and wanted him from the moment he heard about him. He had a whole nursery set up, and still does. He never took it down -- just locked the door. Damian was thrust upon Bruce without warning, and he feels like he forced himself into the family. And while on some level Damian knows and understands that Bruce wants him and loves him as much as his other children, that doubt and feeling of inferiority still remains. He looks at Danny and sees him with what Damian always feels he needs reaffirmed.

Meanwhile, Danny hates Damian because he looks at him and sees him with everything Danny's ever wanted. He hates him because Damian grew up knowing both of their parents, with one of them for most of his life, and then moved over to the other. There was never a moment where Damian was (seemingly) left to doubt his place within the family. Damian was raised with the very same woman who left Danny on a doorstep, with no clue to his identity beyond a little green blanket and a note with only a first name. Damian was wanted everywhere, and Danny was wanted nowhere. Damian is Danny's replacement in his eyes.

(It's the little revelation that Damian grew up with their mother that elevates Danny from being quietly envious of Damian to downright despising him. What did Damian do, that Danny didn't? He could live with Damian living with Bruce -- Bruce didn't know Danny was even alive. But him living with their mom? Are you fucking kidding him?)

Damian never outright attacks Danny physically, but it's not like he hides that he didn't like Danny. Meanwhile, Danny, in all his repressive anger, quietly despised him from a distance until finally one wrong snide side-comment has him blowing up and it becomes a screaming match. They're both just enough similar to each other that when they look at each other they really just see a mirror.

They'll work it out together, eventually. But it'll be ugly and cruel and explosive, and they'll start mending the bridge to become brothers in more than just blood relation in the end.

But yeah, stillborn Danny has... a lot going for him.

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!

I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).

OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.

Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?

His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.

Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.

Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.

Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!

Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.

The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.

Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.

His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed. 

In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.

Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?

The invitation never comes.

And then, comes the doubt.

What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset). 

However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now? 

Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot. 

OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!! 

Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its. 

However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war. 

TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society. 

Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius. 

Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK. 

Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:

Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*. 

Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.

*muffled ix noises*

I see, I see.

The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!

Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before: 

Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation. 

Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree? 

However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…

Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….

Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!

We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help. 

I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.

“Don’t do love, don’t do friends

I’m only after success

Don’t need a relationship

I’ll never soften my grip”

Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else. 

“Don’t want cash, don’t want card

Want it fast, want it hard 

Don’t need money, don’t need fame

I just want to make a change

I just wanna change, I just wanna change” 

This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible. 

“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine

I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy

Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!” 

Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that. 

“One track mind, one track heart

If I fail, I’ll fall apart

Maybe it is all a test

‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst

So I always act like I’m the best” 

Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know? 

“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die

I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die” 

Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh? 

All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?” 

To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how. 

“What you’re gonna be 

It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see

And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe

My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy

It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”

Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own. 

“High achiever, don’t you see? 

Baby, nothing comes for free

They say I’m a control freak

Driven by a greed to succeed

Nobody can stop me” 

Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society. 

Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3

[utterlyotterlyx]

Skin and Bones

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.

Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing

Based of this ask

The teasing had become a common occurrence.

It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.

Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.

He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.

Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.

You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.

And that was saying something.

"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."

Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.

"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.

Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."

Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."

Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.

"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"

"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."

Mari was right. You did look incredible.

Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.

With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.

They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.

Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?

Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.

Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."

"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.

"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."

"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.

"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."

That's it. Y/N.

Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.

But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.

"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."

Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."

"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."

Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."

A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.

Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.

Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.

She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.

Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.

Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.

"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"

It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.

Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."

"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.

It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"

His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."

Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."

You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.

His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"

You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.

It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.

[mrchiipchrome]

Glass Child

W.C. - 6 k

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The middle child. Often known as the “forgotten” sibling, the one who never gets enough love, never enough attention, the one who’s never enough. 

Never the one to blow out their own candles on their birthdays, never the one to get driven to their evening practices even when it was rainy and muddy. Never the one to get told they’re loved, nor that they’re enough. Never the one to be the favourite.

Yet always the one to listen to their parents argue late into the night, always the one to be blamed, always the one pressured to do great academically. Always the one who has to prove and find their place in the family, yet never actually finding it.

One older brother and one younger sister, that was what you had, one sibling on either side of you for every family photo but never for anything more. Your brother was out of the house before you could turn 6 and your younger sister was what your parents liked to call a rainbow child.

She had nearly died at birth after all, not enough oxygen going to the brain leading to slight mental disabilities and getting all your parents love. You weren’t even sure they had ever told you that they were proud of you. No, all their attention was always on Lila. 

No matter how much you vyed for their attention, no matter how many accomplishments you had, the trophies and diplomas you brought home, their attention was always on Lila. 

Lila, the golden child. Lila who could do no wrong. Lila who even after screaming and punching you, would get a hug and kiss on the head. 

You, who were left to raise yourself. You, who were never enough for them, never good enough to be loved and cherished like your sister or even your brother who had left you. You, who had the weight of the world on your shoulders with no one to help carry it.

Every footballing tournament you’d ever had would be about Lila, what did Lila want? Was Lila comfortable? Does Lila want to go home? 

Well that was when they actually made the effort to come, something you could count on one singular hand how many times they’d done. No, to sit through a few minutes of football for their daughter to feel needed and wanted was far too difficult for them.

Anything not involving Lila was far too difficult for them. Anything not revolving around herself was far too complex for Lila to comprehend, the second your parents looked away from her she was kicking and screaming and they were forced to look at her, whilst you were left unloved and unseen.

So when your brother started to visit once a month, you couldn’t have been more excited. There would finally be someone to be there for you, someone that would look at you for once, appreciate your existence. 

Well he started out like that. He’d come to your games and cheer you on, he’d take you out for ice cream after just the two of you. For the first time in your life you didn’t feel invisible.

But then as time started to pass, he came home less and less, until the visits were so few and far between that he practically disappeared from your life. Gone were the days of feeling wanted and needed, you were back to being a ghost in your own life.

Even coaches started to forget you, it was like you just blended into the background, like you were invisible.

Then slowly, your teammates started to ignore you too, barely even looking at the shell of a person you were during exercises. And slowly you started to accept it, the role of the ghost.

You put your head down, working even harder in school and on the pitch, only this time it was for yourself and not for anyone else.

Slowly it got harder for your coaches and teammates to ignore your ever growing presence, but it was made easier for them when you ignored them back. It might’ve not been the best coping mechanism, but it was one nonetheless.

When you got the offer to play at a big youth academy, you just ran home to tell your parents, purely by a combination of hope and excitement. It was in your excitement that you completely forgot who they were.

“MUM! DAD! I got into an academy in the city!” You shouted as soon as the door closed behind you, football bag with only the essentials in it dropping to the floor loudly.

“What is this ruckus Y/n. You know better than to interrupt Lila’s sleeping time. Pick your bag up and go to your room right this second young lady.” Despite her shouting louder than you had, you were still the one who got in trouble. 

“But I just wanted to tell you-” The words come out defeated, your parents not once being happy for you taking a toll on your entire being.

“But nothing.” She says sternly, pointing to the stairs. Head pointing towards the floor, you don’t let her see the salty tears forming in the corners of your eyes. She wouldn’t care anyway, not when her precious Lila still existed.

The walls shook with the amount of force you used to slam the door closed, the shouts of your mother lighting up the corridors like fireworks. The tears finally escaped when you were in the comfort of your own room, throwing your bag down to the floor harshly.

The bag wasn’t your source of frustration but once again it didn’t have any feelings either, it couldn’t see or feel, neither could it gain consciousness. So, it was the best thing to take out all your frustrations on.

But no matter how much you kicked and punched, no matter how many bruised knuckles you got from the hard materials inside the bag, it still didn’t get better.

Your parents weren’t going to magically start to care for you just because of some bruises, not when you had come home with far worse and they still hadn’t cared. You didn’t exist to them, their lives only revolved around Lila, the sun to their earths.

Picking up a plastic figurine from the ratty old desk you had inherited from your brother, you launch it across the room and directly into the wall. With a pop, the head of the Captain America figurine separates from the body, rolling across the hardwood floor almost mockingly. 

When the realization of what you’d done hit, you dropped down to your knees with a thud. Picking up the scratched and broken toy off the floor, you clutch the parts to your chest tightly like they would disappear if you loosened your hold ever so slightly.

How could you break the only thing your brother had ever given you? ‘Keep it safe for me, yeah?’ He told you when he left the house you grew up in the last time, he had said that he didn’t need it where he was going. You knew in the back of your mind that he wouldn’t care about the broken state of the toy, but the overwhelming and conflicting feelings waging a war inside you amplified your emotions tenfold.

You weren’t used to this, crying. No, it was much easier to compartmentalize your feelings, to experience your feelings rationally and not as emotionally as you just had.

But it seems like the feelings were far too strong this time, creating an earthquake of sorts in your mind that opened all the drawers of the imaginative dresser where you stored all your emotions. And so they hit you all at once, all the negative emotions and thoughts crashing into you like powerful waves.

Eventually there were no tears left to fall, empty sobs escaping your mouth every now and then, face buried in your knees with your back up against the wall. Breathing in deeply, you lean your head back against the colorless wall, wishing you could be anywhere but there at that moment.

Bringing your hands up to your face, they slowly fall back down to your sides, your muscles relaxing for the first time since you had come home. There was no point in just sitting there and sulking, the pitch not too far from your house calling your name.

Walking over to the bag, you open it up and pull out the old boots, they were falling apart at the seams but that didn’t matter. They would work another 6 or so months, as long as you stitched them back together.

The window creaked as you opened it up, throwing your now closed bag onto the bushes that lined your house. Climbing over the ledge, you sit down on the wooden lining, hands coming down to clutch the material tightly. Turning your body around, you lower yourself down until your arms are fully stretched out, pressing your feet to the wall and pushing your body away from the building.

Landing on your feet, you hurry to pick the bag up off the bush with calloused hands, the years of carrying the bag back and forth from training having taken its toll on your hands. Quick steps echo in the night air, nearing the uncared for pitch in record time.

Soon enough the thwack of your boot hitting the ball over and over is the only thing that can be heard, cleats ripping into the grass and pulling up the deep brown dirt underneath it. By the time you were done your knees ached and your feet were even worse, the boots not the most comfortable things in the world.

With some luck, you manage to find a ladder at the corner of your house, leaning it up against the brick wall of the house and climbing up it carefully. When you’re safely inside your room, you push the ladder away and close the window.

It becomes a routine of sorts, wake up, go to school, take the bus to the academy training grounds, train, go home, study and then go out to the pitch for another 2 or so hours of football. It was good, out there you could forget everything and just focus on getting better.

And that you did, quickly becoming one of the best youngsters not only in your academy but also in the country, much to your surprise. Life wasn’t slow and boring anymore, it was fast paced and fun for you.

Months passed by, a U-15 call up hitting your desk a single month before you turn 13, leaving you to celebrate your birthday alone in your hotel room. There was no way that you would tell a bunch of strangers of such a trivial thing, it wasn’t like they had even noticed you there, they already had their friend groups.

Thankfully, you seemed to have impressed the right people as you got called up time and time again after, showing everyone why you deserved to be there with strategic kicks of the ball and passes not even most professional players could make. It came naturally after so many hours of playing and subsequently watching people play.

Camp after camp you watched your teammates interact with each other, see them laugh and smile with their friends whilst you were on the outside looking in. It was no longer a problem, being alone, an expectation rather than a surprise.

Luckily enough for you, the senior call up happened only weeks after turning 16, leaving the older girls to take you under their wing. It was certainly…different, a completely new experience.

You had finally reached the top that you’d yearned for, getting recognised for being one of the best footballers in the entirety of England. The years of invisibility far gone, now praised enormously for the efforts you made during each and every game.

It got overwhelming quickly, all the attention from coaches and outlets alike only fuelling your need to perform, leading to countless hours spent out on the muddy pitch. Football, no matter how stressful, was your reprieve. Your savior of sorts.

You’d think after countless hours spent with your football that your passion for the sport would burn out, but in your case all it did was reinforce your spirit.

At 17 you got the option to either sign a professional contract with your youth club or go to America for college football on a full ride scholarship. Your decision to choose the latter of the two was less than popular with your parents.

“Mum, dad. Can you two give me your attention for once?” You question, sitting at the dinner table only meters away from where they’re washing the dishes.

“Why don’t you wait until the adults are done?” Your sorry excuse of a father shoots back, chuckling with your mother.

“I’m going away for college soon. In America.” The clanging of utensils hitting the metal surface of the sink interrupts the tense silence created by your statement.

“What did you just say?” Her tone was dangerously sweet and calm, almost trying to lure you into a false sense of security.

“You heard exactly what I said. There is no opinion to be had here, I was simply paying you two the courtesy to know.” Despite your tone being nonchalant, you were anything but. Leg bouncing up and down anxiously under the table, fingers fidgeting with each other.

“No. Y/n Y/l/n you are not leaving us to fend for ourselves, not like your brother. We need you here, Lila needs you.” Your mother basically pleads with you, reaching across the table to take hold of your hands.

Before she can even try to get near them, you pull them back towards your body harshly.

“Oh so now you need me? Now that I’m leaving you need me?” Your father has his arm slung around your mother’s shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down against her arm. “What about all the times I needed you two? All of the countless tournaments I participated in only for the coaches to ask me where you two were. You two have caused me so much pain and embarrassment.” 

“That’s unfair, your sister needed us more.” Your father tells you harshly, eyes drilling holes into the sides of your head.

“So? I couldn’t get one second of your time once a year?” You ask incredulously, their eyes widening in exasperation. “Me leaving for college isn’t even going to change anything, all you two do is care about Lila.” The last part comes out mumbled, so that the two adults in front of you couldn’t hear.

“I do not care for what you have to say, you are not going anywhere.”  

“And why not?” The card up your sleeve hasn’t been played yet, you wanted to revel in their expressions.

“Because we’re the adults here and we decide.” He responds lowly, as if trying to intimidate you.

“Oh but you’re forgetting something. As of an hour ago I am officially 18 years old and I get to decide whether I go or not.” You have to keep from laughing when their faces drop almost comically, eyes wide and jaws on the floor.

And so without much protest, they let you leave your childhood house only days later, getting on a plane out to North Carolina. It didn’t matter that the official season hadn’t started yet, you just wanted to get away.

Weeks passed by before any familiar faces appeared, the Brits you’d met during your stint in the youth groups of the national team. They were part of the main friend group, hugging and laughing with each other every second they got.

In reality, you had found them rather annoying at that age, shrill voices interrupting the otherwise peaceful environment. That’s why you could often be found in your hotel room, studying or messing around with a plushie football.

This time around you had been informed that you were to share a dorm with one of them, something you weren’t that opposed to. They were all nice after all, just a bit loud.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard but we do in fact have another Brit here in the team, someone the two of you have probably encountered before.” The loud voice of one of your American teammates floats through the hallway leading to your room, the notes just about getting through the music streaming into your ears.

“Oh shit.” Rushing to close all the open books on the table in front of you, the light knock on your door is heard through the bustling. “Come in” You let out nervously.

“Alessia, Lotte meet our resident Brit, Y/n Y/l/n!” The jazz hands coming from the older American doesn’t hide the absolute mess of your room. Your suitcase was laying messily on the ground, your body the only thing in the way of the war stricken look of your table.

Sticking your hand out towards the women, there’s a slight crash behind you, face scrunching up in a way that suggests that you were uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry for the mess, I completely forgot about everything I was supposed to be doing today.” They both shake your hand, the brunette taking a firm hold of your hand whilst the blonde grasps your hand lightly with her much softer one.

The blonde looks around the room, a bed on either side of the room, one looking occupied and the other one bare.

“So Y/n, Alessia here is going to be sharing this dorm with you, plenty of time to get to know each other before the season starts.” All the American accents were hard to get used to, often quite startling.

You both nod your heads, not finding much to say regarding the arrangement. Alessia gets a pat on the back from the older student, letting her suitcase drop to the ground carefully.

“Come on then Lotte, let’s get you situated!” As soon as they appeared, they disappeared out of the messy room, Lotte following after the American like a duckling would its mother.

As the door closes behind them the room gets covered in a thick blanket of silence, Alessia still standing where she stood coming into the room and you with your back now turned to her, picking up the papers. 

“Please excuse the state of our room, I completely forgot that you were coming.” The words fall out of your mouth clumsily, your social skills still not up to par.

“Oh I understand, don’t worry.” Her voice is honey-like, smooth and sweet, almost like a Disney princess. When you turn back around the first thing you notice is her incredible beauty, something you didn’t exactly see before in your nervosity. 

“You’re in the senior squad right?” She asks, looking back at you with her baby blue doe eyes. Her intense gaze leaves you to clear your throat loudly, eyes blinking vigorously.

“Yeah I am.” The pitch of your voice peaks up at the end, leaving your statement to sound more like a question than anything. Her melodic giggles fill the room, your heart thumping painfully against your ribs at the sound.

“Are you asking me?” Her hands come up to tuck the hair that’s fallen in her face back behind her ears, her eyes scanning over your pajama clad body.

“Yeah I am.” You say more confidently this time, trying to right your earlier wrong. “Wait, wait, no” Her laugh mixes with yours this time, Alessia’s adorable expression lighting up the room. When the laughter halts, she stands up more straight with her hand out towards you, ready for you to take with your own.

“Come on, take my hand.” The forward urges you playfully, her head tilting a fraction to the right. Her hand feels warm in your own when you grasp it, a soft smile sent your way by the older girl making your insides all warm. “Hi, I’m Alessia Russo but my friends call me Less.” Alessia decides that the crease that appears between your eyebrows is adorable, her eyes flitting over your face.

“We’ve already been introduced?” This time the questioning tone is meant, genuine confusion plaguing your mind.

“I know, but just humor me for a second, okay?” The warmth flooding from your hand up throughout your body seemingly gives life to the butterflies fluttering their wings in your stomach. An unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling.

“Hello, I’m Y/n Y/l/n but my teammates call me Ghost or some variant of it.” You reply cheekily, hand coming down to rest at your side. 

“Why is that?” She speaks up, a confused tone lingering in her voice.

“Because I’m a ghost from the 1700s that’s haunting this college.” Raising your hands up above your head, you let out an ‘ooo’ sound imitating a ghoul.

Her giggles start back up again, the midday sun peeking in through the blinds, leaving pale stripes on the dark floor. The comfortable silence between you two stays for a while, neither one of you really moving from where you’re seemingly glued to the floor.

Eventually she turns back to her bag, starting to unpack her luggage tentatively, not really knowing where to put her things.

After some thinking she seems to get a bit more comfortable, throwing her stuff here and there still making sure to keep to her side. The headphones resting over your ears play no music, allowing you to hear her humming under her breath, singing softly to the tune.

In the months that passed after your official introduction quite a lot happened. For starters, the college season started after a lot of struggle on your and Alessia’s part, Lotte fitting in with the other girls almost immediately. The blonde had a sense of protectiveness over you, the clear lack of social skills on your part making her pay extra attention to you to make sure that you weren’t alone.

Though there was that awkward moment when the striker asked you where your parents were after the first game, because surely it was too important to miss. The worried glance she shoots you when you make up a half-assed lie about them not getting enough time off to fly out and watch you. 

Needless to say, you spend the rest of that day in the library so that she can show her parents around the campus. And like the very mature 18 year old you are, as soon as you hear the sweet accented voice of your teammate in the quiet library you shoot up from your place on the old bean bag, weaving through the rows of books in order to escape your roommate and her happy family.

It wasn’t your fault per se that you were slightly jealous of her having parents that cared for her, and it sure as hell wasn’t her fault that yours were the way they were. It was better to just stay out, so that you wouldn’t get attached to a family that wasn’t your own.

Later that night, when her parents had left for their hotel, she questioned you intently on where you were the entire afternoon. Another lie followed, you telling her that you just had things to do, things that you couldn’t tell her about. 

She eventually let it go, but not before giving you a suspicious glance through the corner of her eye. You clearly weren’t good at lying, something she could see rather easily. 

“So, Y/n, do you wanna have breakfast with me and my parents tomorrow? They’ve been dying to finally meet you.” She asks, sitting down on your bed, her legs dangling off the end. Her hand comes up to lay on your leg, goosebumps rising on your skin whereupon her hand rests.  

A blush rises on your face, both at the question and her hand. You hadn’t even realized that she’d told her parents about you, but now it was obvious, parents in the movies always asked their kids all about college.

“Oh uhm, you know, I don’t want to intrude on your time with your parents.” Lifting your hand up, you make the motion of waving her off, not expecting her free hand to take yours.

“You wouldn’t be, they asked to meet you since you were so ‘busy’ today.” Her eyes stare into your soul, still soft and caring. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Alessia’s baby blues look down at the pattern on your blanket, her hand on your leg tracing the patterns into your skin.

“NO, no, believe me Alessia, I would love to go…” Your voice trails off softly, looking for the correct words so as to not reveal exactly why you were hesitant.

“But…” She continues your sentence.

“But I’m not good with people, and I don't want to give them the wrong impression of me. Family’s important for you, from what I’ve heard, and I just want yours to like me.” Somehow her eyes soften even more, the blonde girl moving up the bed to settle beside you, her arm snaking over your shoulders. Your head lands on her collarbone, one hand still holding onto hers tightly.

“Don’t you worry, if I like you, which I do, then they will like you as well.” She smiles down at you, faces inches from the other’s.

A knock on the door interrupts the moment, the loud noise making the two of you jump apart. The door opens with a creak and Lotte pops her head into the room, a large smile on her face at your and Alessia’s seeming closeness.

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” She asks teasingly, Alessia immediately shooting her the meanest glare she could muster up, though that was like being glared at by a marshmallow. Your face on the other hand was redder than a tomato, the insinuating words making you nervous.

“No not at all, I was just about to leave for my evening run, I’ll see you both later!” You basically sprinted out of the room as soon as you had shoes on your feet, taking to jogging your normal round more than once. 

By the time you were back in the dorm room, your feet were aching unpleasantly and your blonde counterpart was asleep. It was a begrudgingly difficult task to tiptoe around the room without waking the blue eyed girl, but in the end you managed not to wake her.

Though she’s not nearly as careful the next morning, stomping around like a maniac and making a bunch of noise for you to wake up to.

“Less, what are you doing? Let me sleep.” The last word of your sentence was drawn out thoroughly, groaning as you stretch out your body.

“Nope, no time! We’re meeting my parents in 20 minutes at the cafe.” She comes up and boops your nose before letting you spring up from the bed, rushing around the room at 100 km/h, gathering up all your nice looking clothes and letting Alessia choose the optimal pairing.

All the way to the off campus cafe you were stressed, but the way Alessia’s hand fit so snuggly in your own was a little comforting. She knew about your anxious nature around new people, even if those people were the least judgmental ever.

“It’s going to go great Y/n, my parents already love you, trust me, there’s basically no way that you can make them hate you.” Her words soothing you more than she’ll ever know, your shoulders feeling like they’d had a massive weight lifted off them. 

With newfound confidence, you get through the breakfast like a champ, even enjoying the entire thing. Alessia’s parents were everything yours weren’t, they were kind and generous, loving and sweet and all around great people. You wondered what it would be like to grow up with parents like them instead of yours.

And it seems like you made a good first impression on them too, because as you and Alessia said your goodbyes they gave you the warmest hugs you’d ever gotten paired with a big kiss on the cheek.

Alessia couldn’t understand why you burst into tears as soon as the two of you were in the comfort of your own dorm. It came so suddenly, the tears that seemed never ending and the sobs that echoed around the small room.

As soon as Alessia heard the first sob escaping your throat she turned around, being met with the sight of your hands covering your face, trying to subside the tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey, what happened love? Why are you crying?” Her voice grows worried quickly as her hands take hold of your forearms. She tries to remove your hands from the premise of your face, thinking that you’d hurt yourself.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…your parents are such wonderful people and I guess I just wish that mine were the same.” You regret the sobbed words as soon as they exit your mouth, of course you would be so stupid as to tell her about your parents. Now you’d have to tell her the truth about them, there was simply no avoiding it.

“Oh, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you mean?” Her voice is softened, like when talking to a baby, and her arms hold you tight against her chest. Alessia’s hands move from your forearms and down around your back, rubbing her hand up and down softly. 

You’d known each other for months yet the topic of your parents hadn’t come up once. It was funny really, the way that they’d destroyed your childhood.

Inbetween a couple sniffles you begin the whole story, speaking slowly so as to not burst out in tears at every broken memory, every missed game, every single thing they’d not done for you.

“Uhm, I don’t really know where to start, but I know it all started with the birth of Lila, my sister. She was a…difficult pregnancy for my mom and uh when she was born there were complications. She didn’t get enough oxygen to her brain and uh that led to her being disabled, not enough for it to impact her life but enough for my parents to uhm…get attached to her. She’s their ‘rainbow baby’ and it seems like everything she’s ever done overshadows any of my or my brother’s achievements. It’s like as soon as they brought her home from the hospital both me and my brother were invisible. But he was lucky, he got to go off to uni within a year of her birth, me? I had to wait 14 years to get out.” You let out a humourless laugh at the end, not even looking the blonde in the eye after she tried to get you to.

“They never came to a game, no matter how big of a deal it was, they always let my sister blow out my candles on my birthday cake and they gave her more gifts on MY birthday than they did me. You want to know what they did when I told them that I had been recruited by an academy? They told me to shut up because my sister needed rest. On my senior team debut they left early because my sister wanted to get ice cream, it was the one moment for me to show them that I didn’t need them to be great, do you understand how embarrassing it was to look around for your parents after scoring twice on your national team debut only to see that they’re not there? The embarrassment of being asked why you’re not celebrating with your family? Of being worth so little to the people who made you that they couldn’t even be assed to sit for ninety minutes for their daughter? All I’ve ever wanted was for them to notice me, love me, care about me, but all that wishful thinking went away that day. I no longer cared for them or anything other than my teammates and footy. So yeah, that’s the entire story.” You didn’t even notice that you’d been talking for the past 30 minutes nor that tears spilled out of both you and Alessia’s eyes. When you finally looked up and in her eyes, they were filled with salty tears just like your own, tears that fell quietly and slid down her face peacefully.

Bringing your hand up, you quickly wipe her face softly, her baby blues enhanced by the layer of tears over them, slight redness to the whites of her eyes.

Alessia’s eyes bore into your own, her eyes expressing hundreds of feelings, everything from sorrow and empathy to love and kindness. It’s not until she looks down at your chapped lips that you finally understand what it is you’ve been feeling since you first met her again after so many years. 

It wasn’t nervousity or stress, it was love. Pure, genuine, unconditional love. You were utterly in love with the striker. And by the way she was inching her face closer to yours, she was pretty in love with you too.

Your lips meet hers in a soft and innocent embrace, all your emotions spilling into the kiss. Her lips were soft and they tasted of strawberries, her favourite chapstick the same taste. 

Your lips moved against each other’s softly for just a moment shorter than you wanted. Her eyes were closed as you opened yours just a sliver, observing the way one of Alessia’s hands comes up to touch at her kiss swollen lips softly.

When her eyes finally do open, they’re met with still tear stained cheeks and a big happy smile. The baby blues meet yours and they instantly see the love and adoration in them, it’s so obvious that she nearly starts crying again.

“Okay love, before we talk about what just happened i want to say that your parents missed out on the best person I’ve ever met. You are so wonderful and beautiful and you have so many wonderful people who love you to death, me being one of them. During the last few months that you have been apart of my life you’ve showed me that it’s possible to love someone more than anything. You have endless passion for football and for your friends, you’ve inspired me to become a better person simply by being you and that’s one of the most amazing things that I’ve ever witnessed. You’ve done a better job at raising yourself than most parents do with their kids and I want you to know that I’m so proud of you. I can’t comprehend how they could be so blind that they missed what a wonderful person you are. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, your hair a mess from pulling at it and books scattered all around the room. I love you so much that it feels like I’m going to burst whenever I’m around you.” You can see the sincerity in her eyes as she looks at you, smiling ever so slightly.

“I love you too Alessia. I’m so in love with you that I’m going mad.” The way she picks herself up from the floor has you convinced that she’s going to leave you there where you sit on the floor, all alone. Only that’s not what she does, instead she holds out her hand for you to take.

“Come on love, go get cleaned up so I can take you on a date.” Her hand playfully taps your behind as you walk away towards the sink to wash the tears off your face, and you turn around to glare at her playfully.

5 long years later and you’re lifting the Euros trophy alongside your co-captain and subsequent maid of honour Leah and your longtime girlfriend soon turned fiancée. 

All you could think after she said yes was how incredibly lucky you were to have someone like her in your life.

[thesirenisles]

Examining the "Feminine"

mythology & meaning of venus, taurus, and libra ♀

by thesirenisles

Dark/Night Mode recommended. Do not steal, rewrite, or copy any of my original writing. Photos are from Pinterest or collaged by me. If it does not apply, let it fly. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles

Your Majesty,

It is as if you manifested in this world to be adored and cherished. Blessed with royal charisma and a natural grace, your Venusian energy is often happily welcomed. Even with afflictions, there is just something(s) about you that others value.

A Venusian is blessed to enjoy the material aesthetics and splendors of this world. They understand high-quality, material value in items and prefer the nicer things. They have an inherent taste for what is aesthetically pleasing. The Venusian tends to collect all of these things... while being on the journey to understanding that they can't collect people.

At your core… you are here to create and increase the value, beauty, harmony, and love in the world around you.

It's all about life’s pleasures when you’re a child of Venus and they float diplomatically, steadily seeking pleasure of all forms, whether this be from material means, the five senses, or even the addictive taste of social relevance.

╰┈➤ Think: Serena VDW from Gossip Girl, waltzing around with her “Golden Retriever” energy lol. Beyoncé, (Venus 1H) no matter the rumors... honestly can she actually ever be canceled? Jasmine Tookes (model) has such a Venusian complex, Venus 1H)

With this energy dominant in the natal chart, you can become a natural feminine role model for the women in your life. Venus is a benefic and a lucky chart ruler energy. But, this does not come without its lessons usually involving worth, value, and balance.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

In astrology, the gifts of Venus manifest in:

⋆˚⋆˚ ❥ TAURUS (fixed Earth) 2nd House (Possessions, Values, Skills) understands tangible & personal worth but is seeking to understand the value of intangible beauty in life.

⋆˚⋆ ❥ LIBRA (cardinal Air) 7th House (Marriage and Partnership) understands how to create beautiful social and romantic relationships based on justice, but is seeking to understand the true value of self love & worth.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

If you control the feminine deity,

you control the feminine.

VENUS (Aphrodite to the Greeks, Hathor to Ancient Egyptians) is the Goddess of love, feminine energy, erotic desire, harmony, balance, and to some motherhood.

Greco- Roman Mythology:

When consuming any ancient mythological texts, one must consider the social and political attitudes or even agendas during that time period to add context. This female social status very clearly carries over into their mythology.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

🐚 In Ancient Greece: "Greek women had virtually no political rights of any kind and were controlled by men at nearly every stage of their lives." (source)

🐚 In Ancient Rome: "Unlike society in ancient Egypt, Rome did not regard women as equal to men before the law." (source)

Glamour is the enemy of truth.

Her sordid birth is GLAMOURIZED in an undeniably gorgeous painting: “Birth of Venus” by Sandro Botticelli; 1486 (see below).

🐚 This beautiful portrayal led to Venus being OFTEN glamourized by women, especially here on Tumblr. We feel empowered by her, which is justified. But, her Greco-Roman mythology is anything but empowering. No shade, but it embodies the social limits and pain for women within the dominant European culture. 🐚 The Goddess is often presented on display, (as above) her womanhood made a spectacle! Her very "feminine" form is written to have manifested from the discarded sexual organs of a male God, (Uranus), Also then.. technically her father.

This is a DIVINE Goddess and YET ...

Her adoptive father, Jupiter (Zeus), literally sold her to her "husband", Hephaestus (Vulcan), like property.

She has petty grudges stemming from vanity, tormenting beautiful young maidens.

She engages in frequent, extramarital love trysts with a sibling, Ares (Mars)

... & we're supposed to romanticize this??? ✋🏾(It's giving Cersei Lannister).

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

🐚 Negative divine feminine imagery creates a space to demonize the many beautiful traits associated with Venus! This became especially apparent after the bloody global shift into Christian and Catholic dominance.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

and alas life imitates art:

"HOTTENTOT" VENUS

🐚 The Greco-Roman/ European depiction of Venus being on full display makes a disgusting reappearance in their humiliation, brutalization, and rape of naturally curvy and voluptuous African women. 🐚 Most notably, a South African Khoikhoi (or Khoisan) woman named Saartjie (or Sara) Baartman, who was fiendishly deemed the: "Hottentot Venus." (a racial slur; see image below) Her divinely feminine body was, like Venus , put on live display and defiled for ANY paying Europeans. Most all had never witnessed such divine beauty, 1810. (source) 🐚 They were socially conditioned to gawk, hyper-sexualize, and inflict pain upon the female form. Even after death, she was taken in 1816 and displayed in a French museum until as late as 1985."

Venus Figurine:

🐚 This grotesque misuse of Venus in the news article title takes its inspiration from: The Upper Paleolithic “Venusian figurine”, an example the “Venus of Willendorf” (28-25,000 BCE; see below) which also shows pronounced hips and figure. Men were said to carry these in thought of women. However, the exposure is none short than Venus' own in the Botticelli painting.

🐚 While similar in their representation, the Greco Roman translation of this Goddess is far too crass and none of Venus' listed Greco-Roman origin stories have any symbolic feminine connection or adoration to the actual bull or scales! LOL. So, I went on my search to connect the lost ancient mythological mysteries that did not make it past the Euro-Colonialism eradication and re-naming. 🔎🕵️

"Mother of the Pharaohs"

taurus: the horned cow🐄

HATHOR is the (Ancient Egyptian Goddess of the Divine Feminine, Love, Fertility, and even expression of female sexual desire). The Goddess is a cow or a maiden with cow horns, typical symbol of Taurus.

How is Venus connected to Hathor?

🐄 Since the moment they step foot in the "ancient New York City" that was Ancient Egypt, their European neighbors were enamored of Ancient Egypt's Neter (Gods), especially the "Mother of the Pharoah's". The Greco-Roman nations would come to conquer Egypt. Under Alexander the "gr8" in 332 B.C., they renamed one of the seven major African cities that worshipped Hathor: "Aphroditopolis" or City of Venus and made it a CAPITAL of its district. 🐄 The Venus planet symbol ♀ is literally the African Ankh. This fascination and renaming is like the renaming of Thoth into Mercury, Hermes, or "Hermes Trismegistus". (some say they explain it with "reincarnation.") You, as the reader, decide which mythology matches the energy best for yourself.

Mythological Origins:

🐄 Hathor is said to be born from the eye of Ra, like Sekhmet. She was thought of as beauty, love, grace incarnate. Her presence is said to exude an aura of allure, femininity, and attraction. She embodies passionate expressions of desire, love, and the pursuit of exquisite living. 🐄 A maternal symbol, she is considered the mother or nourisher of all of the Pharaohs. The presence of the Goddess in a Pharaoh's royal court is essential to ensure the connection to the divine. 🐄 Music and dance are another keystone of Hathor's energy. The female body is created to release tension and trauma with the very movement of your hips! Connect with your inner Goddess! 🐄 Symbols for Hathor: Cows, Sun disk with Cow Horns, Lotus Flower, Sistrum, Protective Cobra, Mirrors, and Cosmetic jars.

Why the cow? 🐄

🐄 Ancient Kemet (Egypt) connected their Gods to the natural skills, gifts, and talents of the animals within their ecosystem. This is the reason their Gods’ are called Neter, like “Nature". (For example: Lions of Leo are native to Africa) 🐄 The African cattle breed: “Ankole-Watusi" has female cows with very large horns… similar to the male bull. These horns are depicted holding the sun disk upon the head of Hathor, (as seen above & below in the Egyptian bas reliefs).

🌷Cows are the mothers!🌷

┈➤ Bulls are the male cow. Heifers are the females without offspring.

🐄 The natural feminine physical traits associated with the cow are: plush eyelashes, a pretty symmetrical face, pronounced nipples that produce milk, and wide hips. 🐄 However, the cow also provides fertilizer, which brought forth the agriculture of the African Nile Valley. The cow , not bull...is a perfect fertility symbol.

Hathor provides the Pharaoh the ANKH or “Venus planet symbol.” ♀ (see below)

Bas Relief of the goddess Hathor, Temple of Horus, Edfu, Egypt, Ptolemaic Period, c251 BC-c246 BC

"soft life"🐄

🐄 I imagine a Taurus (or 2nd houser) thriving in the energy of the cow, frolicking the lush green lands, eating their fill, and providing nourishment. If the 5 senses of a Taurus are satisfied, they are content. 🐄 They will create this value around them, often ensuring that their spaces smell good, the food is prepared excellently, and only the best to drink it down. Access to a Taurus is access to their natural value. 🐄 They will bless you with gifts that you need because they care enough to pay attention and want to increase your value too.. all while being loyal! I love Taurus energy, so similar to cancer... but less mood swings.

(noun). a person, especially a woman, who pursues a lifestyle of buying luxury items or of seeking them as gifts from lovers and admirers.

🐄 Taurus most often manifests Venusian gifts in the physical and sensual. This can be "classically" feminine physical traits, such as wider hips or ample bosoms, etc. On a negative, these traits can be hyper-sexualized or demonized while they are young, like their sister sign, Scorpio. But, it can also be literal material gifts and blessings.

🐄 On a positive, Venus will bless them with options! Many suitors will present these Earthly gifts, writing love poems to woo the feminine cow. Taurus may find pride in the flattery that comes with this treatment and beauty privilege. They are used to being adored (unless badly aspected).

Beware the love Bomb.

🐄 In love, these cows are especially vulnerable to being victims of love bombing. (When a potential suitor bombards one too quickly with serious promises, excessive flattery, and material gifts. This can be friends as well.🧿) The key here is to not allow flattery to falsely parade as love.

🐄 Taurus (2nd house) carries a natural royal energy and an air of grace. It’s your silent, but solid confidence of being a fixed sign. They are extremely loyal when they consider you kin. However, this dogmatic belief system can result in you charging your horns into sketchy territory. This reminds me of John Snow and his “honor” energy (from Game of Thrones).

it’s nearly impossible to change your mind.🌸

🐄  In love, this can be ignoring all of your friends over a partner who is not good for you. You find yourself giving all of your love, loyalty, and even money (most have a language of gift giving and receiving) to an undeserving soul. On the bright side, these tragedies will result in a tower moment marked with major transformation (also like sister sign Scorpio).🌷 🐄 Ultimately, I feel and often see that the Taurus (2nd house) native will be challenged to vacate the creature comforts in which they enjoy in order to transform like their sister sign, Scorpio. When in doubt, do NOT choose the Hephaestus (safe choice).

"Queen of the Earth"

libra: moral scales ⚖️

MA'AT (Ancient Egyptian Goddess rules balance, justice, harmony, law, order, and morality.) She is depicted as a maiden adorned with beautiful wings, very similar to Isis.

⚖️ I often find my beautiful Libran queens confused about the meaning of the scales and how it connects to femininity. I hope to be a light bearer. ⚖️ Ma'at represents the typical light feminine attributes in my opinion (elegance, forgiveness (justice), and nurturing energy (Venus). Similar to Librans, who inherently know how to enact these gifts create harmony in their social spaces and float amongst varying personalities. (Think: Lady Liberty or Lady Justice). However, the sign is the masculine side of Venus.

Mythological Origins:

⚖️ Ma'at is also a daughter of Ra, sometimes written as his wife. She manifested with Ra from the waters of Nun (Chaos). Her existence brought order to the realms . She is often depicted holding an ANKH and a scepter to symbolize power and eternal life. (See Below) Some sources say that she was married to Thoth (Mercury) and birthed 8 children, known as "The eight gods of Hermopolis." (Just like Aphroditopolis)

Why the Queen of the Earth?

⚖️ As mentioned, Ma'at was said to be present at the beginning. She was present when Ra stood upon her "mound" (seen above) for balance as he created the realm of Earth... ending chaos. This placed the Goddess in charge of the cycle of seasons, the movements of the sun, moon and stars, all parts of religion, relationships, and the moral actions of both mortal and God-alike. This is very powerful!

⚖️ The Libra native can carry very similar themes. In life, they may feel the need to regulate amongst their social circles and be the organized hostess. Cardinal energy blesses them with the drive to girl boss through anything!

⚖️ The ethical and spiritual foundation of Ancient Kemet was presented by a woman. The head of religious worship and justice was called "Priest of Ma'at". From this, you gather that Ancient Kemet was nothing as Egypt is today in terms of equality for women. Women were free to own their own properties, businesses, marry one-another, divorce their husbands, and even rose to be Pharaoh like in the case of Pharaoh Hatshepsut. (personal fave)

Why the scales? ⚖️

The Libran scales literally determined if a soul had lived their life with balance and morality! (7th House).

⚖️ The actions and morality of the Ancient Egyptian people were guided by a set list of commandments, known as the "42 Laws of Ma'at". These ancient texts predate the Bible, but have uncanny similarity in diction to the 10 Commandments. ⚖️ It was believed that Upon death, before one could enter the Duat (Underworld), the heart was weighed on the scales of Osiris (God of the Underworld) in comparison to a single feather of Ma'at. Osiris is linked to Saturn which is exalted in Libra. The weighing was done by Anubis (God of funerary practices and care of the dead).

“light as a feather”🪶

⚖️ If the heart weighed less or the same, the spirit was granted access to Aaru (a sort of heaven). This explains the scales of LIbra. If it did not, the heart was eaten and the native faded into nothingness.

(noun) a woman who acts as master of ceremonies, moderator, or who receives and entertains guests in her own home or elsewhere.

⚖️ The mythology of Ma'at is excellent... a little too excellent. She is like the oldest and favorite daughter who must be 100% perfect. Many Libra's may have father or projection issues in this way. The expectation of excellence begets pressure! ⚖️ This carries over into the relationships of course. This balancing act is where things get tricky for the Libra. This can manifest as people pleasing to keep the peace with friends, family, romantic partners, or co-workers. There can be a distaste for controversy or not wanting to damage the public image. It gives "Dollhouse" by Melanie Martinez vibes at its worse. Rich Auntie vibes at it's best!

Their scales will be tipped. ⚖️

⚖️ The Libras/7th housers will find themselves in situations where they have to STAND on their boundaries. It's like a self-actualization that has to happen. Venus is teaching them to respect and protect their Venusian gifts. Similar to Taurus. Venusian energy will bless you with generous suitors. BEWARE THE LOVEBOMBERS. ⚖️ They bear the reputation of almost needing to be in a relationship. This is obviously due to the 7th house ruling, but also stems from it's less favorable position with the sun.(Father). It is also kind of true, because it is apart of your life path. ⚖️ While it can be painful to have to experience relationship after relationship, these are apart of your life path and contribute to your glow up! To love and be loved is truly a blessing. You guys are blessed with so many loving friendships and romantic experiences!

Regina George?

⚖️ There can be some performative behavior and some judgment! After all, this is scales. Blessed with beauty, style, and grace... they can end up judging those who aren't. Mean Girl vibes. But, I believe this comes from the Libran urge to judge and lead the masses LOL. Ma'at energy. ⚖️ Despite any of this, Libra is the least slandered amongst the air signs (unless it’s Libra moon… I see quite a bit of slander? LOL.) Ma'at seems to bless the Libran with this air of favor. It's like they can really do no wrong, even sometimes after doing so. People are going to think the better of them 9/10 because the Libra has already established their character and value amongst social groups. The air just adds a bit more flow, allowing more harmonious energy in their relations.

Conclusion

♀ The intention of this post is to shed some light on lesser known mythology and symbolism of the planet Venus. I also believe that it is worth noting a very beautiful pattern among Venus and her signs.

♀ The Libran scales and Taurus Cow horns both resemble the female reproductive system. They also resemble the African Ankh symbol (of fertility and eternal life). Nature makes no mistakes and everything has duality, just as the Ancient Egyptians understood so well. It’s beautiful. (See below).

Thank you for reading!! Wishing you blessings!

@thesirenisles | masterlist | Enjoyed? Support!🧜🏾‍♀️

All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles

[enhypencores]

Bleed Me Dry Pt II

READ PART 1 HERE

Lee Heeseung X Y/N

Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker

Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"

Word Count: 11K+

WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandere, manipulation, mentions of self exit, drugs, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.

Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.

PS: I’d love to hear your feedback <3

Heeseung had gathered some crucial knowledge from a heavily drunk Jake.

“Intelligent and tall. She’s got a thing for them… She had this crush on a dude in the first semester. Told her he was a jerk, didn’t listen, and you know… he broke her heart. His name? Think it was park jeong guk? jeong woo? I don’t know… It was just some guy. She’s stupid…”

He had wanted to punch that knowing look off Jake’s face as he insulted you, but Heeseung tried swallowing down the surging fury.

Because, indeed, you were so stupid. Why had you allowed some loser into your life? When Heeseung gets you, he will make sure to treasure every part of you. He wouldn’t need anyone else. He would use his every breath to cherish you, only you.

Despite the hostility he felt upon hearing of your previous crush, the good news was that Heeseung unintentionally matched the description. He had never been so grateful for his genes until this moment; traits he once considered useless suddenly becoming his most prized.

Heeseung bore a good height, and his mind was like a computer program. At just ten years old, his father had assumed he’d discover the cure for cancer—yet to come true, but everyone in college believed if anyone could do it, it was Lee Heeseung.

A special one, born to lead, a saviour, they claimed. But Heeseung never wanted to be his father’s golden child. He didn’t want to contribute to society or garner the world’s praise. He barely had friends—except for Kim Sunoo, Heeseung’s childhood partner in crime.

To the world, Heeseung was an overachiever, but he knew his excellence was merely a distraction from his twisted mind. His father was the first to notice the disconnect.

Heeseung chose medicine on a whim, a flick of a coin—heads or tails. The boredom in his life drove him to try everything: paragliding, boxing, swimming, drugs and unrestrained, animalistic sex. He had lived countless lives in two decades.

Early teenage years, his father took it upon himself to train his son, instilling social norms and enforcing strict rules as he tried moulding Heeseung into someone 'normal.' Like a dog on a leash, he made Heeseung more human while maintaining a safe distance to avoid getting scratched. Heeseung understood this from the moment he gained consciousness: his father was scared of him. Terrified.

He never discovered what exactly made his father lock his door every night, but whatever it was, it confirmed a small suspicion: Heeseung was unlovable.

It wasn’t anything detrimental really, because Heeseung never felt the need to seek love. Even in psychological terms, a human's absolute necessities were food, shelter, sex, and safety. When he could survive on the bare minimum, why should he look for something as wasteful as love? He'd rather spend time gaming and pretending to outshine the world’s brilliant minds.

Now, Heeseung was tired of the boredom. So tired that he thought to end it. How long could one treck through an aimless journey?

The realisation that he could cease to exist and no one would know his whereabouts made him feel somewhat better. The taste of death brought him immense curiosity. Would he turn to dust and ashes? Would he be forgotten in memories?

He didn’t think anyone would remember him. To his father, he was a trophy; to his friends, a competition; and to outsiders, a freak. His loss would merely be a statistic: a decline in Korea’s population digits, a decrease in the number of distinction holders in the country, and one less student in Seoul University’s register.

That’s what he thought.

Until he came across you.

You, with your brown eyes, small frame, your liveliness and your beauty.

It was a rainy day in Seoul when he was walking past the bus stand after wrecking his father’s beloved car in a deliberate crash. Unfortunately, he made it out unscathed, only injuring the vehicle. Maybe Heeseung had been born with a shit ton of luck, destined to waste it away.

Regardless, thanks to that golden tub of luck, he was able to land his gaze on you. Heeseung unintentionally remembered countless formulae and research, but the one thing he intended to remember—fucking forced himself to perfectly encode in his memory—was the way you looked that day.

Brown hair slightly wet, sticking to your jawline, knitted brows, and wide eyes staring up at the sky in vengeful retaliation. Heeseung stopped in his tracks.

He had never seen an angel angry.

You dialled a number on your mobile and spoke calmly into your phone.

“The bus is running late. Pick me up.” He remembered a sulking pout on your lips.

“It’s raining! I don’t even have an umbrella. You want me to walk?” He remembered incredulous horror written across your features, lips frowning at the caller’s words.

“Fine... Please! There, I said it, now come quick.” He remembered you rolling your eyes, biting your lip and clenching your bag’s strap tighter.

The phone call ended, and you folded your arms over your chest, letting the damp material cling to your bust, detailing the line of your bra as you tapped your foot on the drenched footpath, staring ahead in longing.

That day, an inactive section of his brain burst out with life, that’s all he could theorise. He wanted to devour you, grope your drenched body, kiss your red mouth, force his fingers into your most sensitive tissues and consume your cries.

He wanted to destroy the person on that call with you, bury them within the earth’s deepest pits so they’d never return to you. He wanted the earth to swallow you and him together, so he could hide you away and savour this moment. He wanted to be the only existence to remember you, here, standing at the bus stop, waiting for a ride home.

Why were you here alone anyway? Who was coming?

Heeseung wanted to shadow you from the rain. If he was a part of your life, he’d chase away all the buses—let alone make you wait for one to pick you up. He would stand drenched in the rain if it meant your ass would only meet the covers of his seat.

A booming motion of the car made your eyes light up. Heeseung’s chest knotted up, a foreign emotion bubbling in his throat as a blonde braked his car before you. You hurried to climb into the passenger’s seat, and then he drove away. Just like that.

He hadn’t hurt someone so far in this life, but the urge to drive a car into the blonde grew tenaciously strong. He had never felt such hatred and venom consume his being. The thought of you getting into that car, going away to share a life Heeseung wasn’t a part of left a gnawing anger in his chest.

His heart which hadn’t felt something in so long suddenly felt alive, riveting with twisted emotions. Heeseung didn’t want to live, but suddenly he didn’t want to die either. He didn’t wish to be remembered, but suddenly he wanted at least one person to remember.

That day he came to a staggering conclusion: Heeseung was unfit to be loved, but he wasn’t unfit to love.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Peak hours on a Monday afternoon started early. Waitresses ambled from one table to another, carrying orders as the room bustled with young college students, conversing and gossiping while awaiting their snacks. The rich essence of chocolate and coffee beans filled the air, stirring hunger among individuals working alone with their noses in laptops and textbooks.

Heeseung’s lips curved in a knowing smile: if you were here, you’d be one of those unaccompanied goody two shoes, sipping on a chocolate milkshake, jotting things down in your notebook. He pictured your brows scrunched as you wrapped your beautiful lips around the straw, gulping long sips and pulling away with a content smile.

“Baby, can’t we go somewhere more private?”

His jaw tightened, aggravated at the shrill interruption. He feigned a smile, his gaze falling back on the red-haired bimbo who stared at him like he was the answer to her every prayer.

Heeseung grabbed a fork, scooping up a bite of strawberry cheesecake before filling his mouth. His stomach fluttered as he revelled in the sweet texture. Ever since stealing those kisses, he couldn’t stop craving sweet treats. He even bought some candies on his way home that morning, already feeling the withdrawals kicking in.

“But how’ll we do this—in private?”

The girl stared in confusion before she was yanked into his embrace, his warm lips slamming into hers, kissing her aggressively, the sweet creaminess from the cake transferring into her mouth. She moaned, licking his lips incessantly, begging for entrance, but Heeseung dismissed her attempts, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Nervously, the red-haired girl slid her chair closer, biting her lip as she observed the underwhelmed expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” She sulked, sucking at her teeth, staring up with concern.

Heeseung shook his head and pulled her into his lap. “Did you do something to make me mad?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose down her neck, peppering small kisses to distract her from his response.

“Ah—n-no! I didn’t,” she gasped, her concern melting away already, her head tilting back as Heeseung planted kisses down her collarbone.

“Shouldn’t you be at uni right now?” He abruptly changed the topic, portraying the perfectly caring boyfriend who gave a shit about her life.

“Yeah, but I’ll ask a friend for the class notes,” she mustered up, her breath laborious as Heeseung ran his hand down her thigh, his kisses growing feistier against her exposed neck.

“Hm, are you that smart?” He pressed on, his patience running out. “Thought I’d fucked you dumb already,” he whispered repulsive words, his hand covering her thighs as the girl tightened in his hold, her lips pressed together to silence any sound, cautious of their surroundings.

Heeseung’s gaze changed, a menacing darkness flashing through. “Smart bitches,” he began, his words blunt and aggressive. “Fucking hate them. Running their big mouths all the damn time,” he declared, his bitter tone making her knees quiver in arousal.

“Tell me, baby, you’re not one of those, are you?” He urged.

One way to access a woman’s weaknesses was to put her up against another.

The girl whose name he had forgotten the second she uttered it, shook her head with desperation. Had he asked her to admit to murder, she would have agreed.

“No!” She yelped, alarmed at his lack of interest. “I’m so dumb. Barely passing this degree,” she confessed, her voice cracking as she spread her knees for his attention.

“Hm—really?” He mocked, and she nodded, her body pleading for his approval. “But your course is so tough. You must be so smart.” Heeseung’s tone dripped with sarcasm, his frown hinting at his displeasure.

The girl choked; her breaths alarmingly rapid as Heeseung’s fingers trailed closer to her clothed centre. “But not me—there’s some smart girls in my class. I—I’m not like them, Hee,” she rambled, her eyes screwing shut.

“Smart girls like—yourself?” He threw the bait, challenging her, and she immediately shook her head, her body jolting as Heeseung flicked his fingers against her centre.

“Not me—not me. This other girl—Ah!” She bit her tongue, her body trembling as Heeseung drew faint circles against her clit. “There’s—Y/N!”

Bingo.

“She’s like the smartest—oh!”

Heeseung halted his movement, his teeth gritting in frustration, anger bubbling up his throat as the girl kept moaning into her words, prolonging this ordeal. He hadn’t spent the last three days coercing a second-year pharmacology student from your college to serenade and romance. He wanted information.

The girl’s arched frame twisted at the sudden lack of touch, her wet gaze darting to Heeseung’s in urgency.

“Speak,” he commanded bluntly, his usual sugar-coated tone gone along with his smile.

The girl’s expression faltered, her blood turning cold. “Uh—there’s this girl—she’s really smart, always acing her exams,” she responded reluctantly, her insecure gaze attempting to read his intentions.

Heeseung’s hand slid back down to her leaking centre, his movement more vigorous as he wrapped his lips on her earlobe. “You’re so hot like this—like a dumb bitch for me,” he drawled, sucking her sensitive flesh.

His sudden shift in demeanour seemed like a hallucination, his voice now intentionally low and sultry. “You wouldn’t want to be like Y/N, hm? You’re my good girl.”

The girl was a goner. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, her eyes shut, and her body trembling from his touch, his previous indifference a distant memory.

“Yeah—I am—so—so dumb for you,” she babbled nonsensically. Heeseung’s flicks quickened.

“That bitch—she’s so smart and talks too much, probably why no one likes her. Such a loser— I don’t know why Park Jongseong’s crazy for her.”

Heeseung’s arm faltered, his body freezing.

The girl, lost in the throes of her arousal, ignored it, urgently pressing her hand down to maintain the pressure. “She’s so full of herself. Bet she’s as virgin as a nun—but maybe—she finally let poor Jongseong have a go, who kno—Ah!”

Heeseung yanked her hair back, his clenched fist tightening and ripping a few strands. His gaze was predatory, chest heaving as he stared down at the horrified girl.

“I’ll rip that tongue out, sweetheart,” he hissed, his venomous tone cutting through and gripping her heart with horror.

The sickening words replayed like a broken record. A searing sting flared inside his chest, his jaw tightening as he thought of that name: Park Jongseong.

Of course, it was the guy from the photos—it fit him perfectly. His arrogant, self-righteous demeanour, that overly exaggerated smile on his face as he held you. It had to be him.

The imagery the stupid girl on his lap painted, her words dripping with malice for his Y/N; everything began to suffocate his lungs.

Heeseung stared down, his hand still gripping her locks as she looked at him with disbelief.

As he released his grip, she winced, her eyes wet with tears.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around her waist like a shackle, holding her captive as he leaned forward and picked up the steaming hot coffee she had ordered. She flinched as he pushed the cup to her lips.

“Drink.”

The girl stared at him like he had grown two heads.

“It’s too hot—”

“Leave one sip behind, and you’ll wish you had listened.”

Her heart raced, body turning cold. Heeseung’s chilling gaze and crooked smile were laced with demonic intent, making her stomach churn. She had never felt her organs shrivel with just the sight of a man’s empty gaze.

She realised at that very moment. She had to obey or else… she didn’t even want to consider what could happen.

She took the heated cup, gulping down her spit to ease the pressure in her throat.

Then she clung to the cup and downed the entire thing. The first rush of liquid scalded the roof of her mouth. Burns trailed down her tongue, to her throat, buzzing all the way into her stomach. Bloody broils flared up, her muscles jolting in agony as pain overwhelmed her cognition. With an excruciating sob, she dropped the empty cup, shattering it on the ground as she tried screaming for help. 

The busy café didn’t seem to notice anything but the shatter, rolling their eyes at the couple’s antics before continuing with their own endeavours.

Heeseung patted her head, smiling in satisfaction. “That’s my good girl.” 

The sobbing girl tore herself from his lap. Standing on quivering limbs, she scrambled to grab her purse and dashed towards the exit.

To Heeseung’s delight, the red-haired bimbo wasn’t so useless after all. He now had a name: Park Jongseong.

Grabbing his phone, Heeseung dialled a number.

“Sim, for your birthday, let’s plan something crazy.”

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

The homeroom buzzed with chatter as students scattered to join their friends at the end of the lecture. While most were preparing to head home, you had to stay back for the weekly council meeting. With your head slack on the table, you shut your eyes and let out an irked groan, wishing you could abandon all your duties and just scramble home.

“Y/N, just resign already. You’re too exhausted,” Yeji, your best friend, called out, rolling her eyes as she zipped up her tote bag.

You groaned again, slamming your head against the table. “You have no idea how badly I want to take your stupid advice,” you whined, rubbing your temples in pain.

Yeji, her pink hair perfectly styled, retouched her lip gloss and eyed your sulking frame. “You take on too much for no reason,” she sighed, finishing her touch-up and patting your head.

“Can’t you loosen up? Look at me, we have finals coming up, and I’m off clubbing with Jaemin,” she gloated, her smile widening at the thought of her boyfriend.

Getting into the world’s best university on an eighty per cent scholarship was tough, but no one prepared you for the strenuous part: upholding those perks. Paired with a demanding course load, extracurriculars and volunteer work felt like a constant nuisance.

“I wish…” you muttered.

Knowing her best friend’s upright nature, Yeji shook her head in defeat.

“Besides that, I’ll be having fun soon,” you iterated, and Yeji instantly grew alert, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re getting a boyfriend?” She gasped, grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards her in excitement. 

“No!” You dismissed, and Yeji’s excitement died as soon as it began, releasing your shoulders in frustration.

“At this point, I strongly believe you wish to die a virgin,” she remarked, running her fingers through her dark strands, her gaze cold. “You even rejected Jongseong,” Yeji huffed.

You winced.

It had been three months since you had been hit by a truck of feelings from the raven-haired boy. Three months of discomfort and pain.

You were introduced to your senior, Park Jongseong, as a good friend of Na Jaemin. The two friend groups had merged, and soon the initial trio—Yeji, Ji-min, and you—grew an acquaintanceship with their group: Jay, Jaemin, and Jisung.

Since you had been to an all-girls school, the first few months of interactions were painstakingly awkward. You felt like an outsider even in a room full of familiar people.

You envied your best friends Yeji and Ji-min for their effortless socialisation skills. Whilst they enjoyed trips and study sessions with the guys, you drew a line, only speaking when spoken to.

In the first year, you were constantly running away from this new world of discomfort. Jay, however, refused to draw a barrier. Like the definition of a headstrong man, he never gave up. Gestures like stopping you in the hallways to talk about his hobbies and inviting you to all his parties showed you that Jay was making a real effort at friendship.

All of it came tumbling down when he confessed to you. The friendship you treasured faded, and you both became strangers again.

“Don’t bring him up,” you gritted, your heart plummeting as you remembered all the distant memories.

You recalled that nightmarish day. You might take this to your grave but Park Jongseong was your first crush. You secretly liked him throughout the farce of friendship.

He held your bag after class, joined extracurriculars like the music society and learned amazing guitar skills. He took you shopping to destress after you failed your lab assessment and played silly nursery rhymes on his guitar to make you laugh. Everything was special until the last day of the second semester.

Jay had asked you to a movie, and as always, you assumed he meant everyone in the friend group, so you called Yeji and Ji-min along.

The moment he saw you walk in with the girls, his expression fell with dismay. Instead of speaking to you about it, he handed the popcorn to your friends and left.

You followed him instantly, but maybe you shouldn’t have.

“Jay!” You chased after him, your heels thudding against the pavement, confusion painted on your features.

He paused in his tracks and turned, his eyes darkening.

“What’s wrong?”

Instead of responding, Jay’s gaze narrowed, a strained chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t act dumb now,” he rasped, his voice bitter.

You opened your mouth to question him, but he suddenly stepped close, his towering frame making your insides queasy.

“It’s always the same with you. How long will you pretend?” Jay’s voice trembled with accusation.

“Do you not see me? Chasing after you like a fucking loser. I’ve spent months trying to figure you out. Stop this game of hide and seek!” He roared, tightening his hold on your shoulders as he stared down at you like a wounded wolf.

You felt so wronged and hurt, your throat clogging up with emotions.

Because Jay was right. You were playing dumb, looking past his feelings, ignoring your own to hide away. Your insecurities and fear of disappointment were louder than his words, ringing in your head like tinnitus.

Because you had always assumed someone as rich and well-put-together as Park Jongseong didn’t need to like a mediocre girl on a scholarship.

You felt that breaking his heart might save his friendship, might save you from the pain of losing his love. So you wanted to sever all chances before you even tasted his love.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever once liked me?” He questioned, his gaze softening as he held your face in his hands, his pupils trembling with need.

Yes.

Yes!

“No.”

His arms dropped, his gaze dull and empty as he stared into your tearful eyes.

“We’re good friends, Jay. Look, we don’t have to rush into anything—”

You felt chills run down your spine as he cut off your words, his tone sharp and damaging.

“Delete my number. Don’t ever come see me.”

“And if I ever accidentally find my way back to you, slap me awake like this again.”

He tore his arm from your grip and you two never spoke again.

And then a week later, he started dating your friend Ji-min.

“Y/N!” You snapped out of your thoughts, head swirling with flashbacks as Yeji shouted for your attention. “What fun were you referring to?” She shifted closer, curiosity written across her features.

You smiled, flicking her forehead away.

“Jake suddenly wants a big birthday bash for his twenty-second,” you told her, thinking back to this morning when he was talking over the phone with his friends, inviting them to his party.

Seeing you pass by, he called you back, his face glowing with excitement as he ended the call.

“Invite all your friends and their mamas— it’s my 22nd!” He roared, and you imagined he’d burst into a Taylor Swift, ‘22’, any minute now.

“Jake? He usually calls them juvenile,” Yeji giggled, thinking back to the time she had a fat crush on your brother and how she stuck to him like a leech until he shooed her off.

You nodded, rolling your eyes at your brother’s weird mood swings. “He wants to hold a grand party. You’re invited, I guess,” you waved her off, and Yeji laughed, her eyes twinkling in joy.

“Of course, I’ll be coming with my boo,” she winked. “Is it at the house?” Yeji asked, twirling her strands excitedly.

You shook your head, tidying your desk and packing up. “He’s planning it with his friend, Heeseung.”

Yeji gasped at the name as if it had evoked a cocktail party effect, her eyes wide as she held onto your shoulders. “That friend you had a wet dream of?”

Your jaw dropped, eyes wide in fear, darting across the hall to make sure no one heard her. “Shut up!” You yelled, your cheeks flushed red, the memory of your filthy mind fuelling your embarrassment.

Yeji laughed, a playful glint flashing in her hazel eyes. “What, did I lie?” She crudely announced, and you felt helpless, unable to feign innocence. 

The night had left you shaken up. The truth was, you had never felt this affected by a hallucination— imagination, whatever it was, it blurred the lines between reality and fiction. You imagined Heeseung fondling your breasts, kissing your lips. All of it was a newfound hunger.

You scrambled to call Yeji soon after to regain some composure. After a long discussion, her diagnosis was a ‘severe case of ovulation’, and she prescribed, ‘getting dicked down asap’.

After that night, you kept wishing for more hallucinations, but your brain refused to cooperate. You had to rely on a picture you had stolen from Jake’s phone of Heeseung in a black button-down with his legs spread apart on the couch, his lap seeming so inviting that your abdomen clenched with need.

Maybe, you were ovulating. But why was it so intense?

“You know, maybe you should shoot your shot with him,” Yeji suggested, patting your shoulder as she stood alert, waving at the man standing in the doorway.

“My ride’s here, bye girly!” Yeji waved, setting her already perfect hair for the nth time before skipping to the smiling blonde, his gaze practically shooting hearts at your friend. Jaemin grabbed her hand, and they scattered off.

You sighed.

Lee Heeseung, what are you doing to me?

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Booming music drowned out any chance of conversation. Guests sprawled in like ants to a sugar cube. Faces glowed with joy, arms carried gifts, and gazes sparkled with anticipation as they searched for the man of honour.

But it wasn't the birthday boy they sought. It was Lee Heeseung, the man who had invited the entire university to his farmhouse. It was a privilege, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

During his four years at the university, he hadn’t spared anyone a glance—let alone befriended anyone. When news circulated of Sim Jaeyun’s birthday invite at Heeseung’s, everyone jumped at the chance.

Girls skipped lessons to find the perfect dress, while guys ransacked their wardrobes for branded watches. Curiosity grew almost sleep-depriving. Who was this friend that Heeseung, the man who never let anyone into his circle, deemed worthy of a lavish party? For weeks, the university buzzed with gossip and excitement leading up to this day.

Heeseung’s gaze was fixed on the main entrance, his lips pressed into a thin line. He remained unmoving as over-enthusiastic people rushed to greet him.

He knew the world like the back of his hand. They hated him and despised his arrogance, yet they flocked to him like moths to a flame. All he had to do was give them a chance, let down his guard and the world would surrender in his palms. But it didn’t matter.

As long as he had your attention, the world could be his.

Jake appeared out of nowhere, his arm settling on Heeseung’s shoulder, smiling as his soccer mates walked in.

“You’re ignoring the entire hall,” Jake muttered, his grip tightening on Heeseung’s shoulder to warn him.

Heeseung glanced at the clock for the nth time, his fingers tapping impatiently against his glass. He barely acknowledged the birthday boy's attempt at conversation, his irritation mounting as the clock ticked on without your presence.

“Where is she?” He questioned.

“She had a presentation to finish up,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “She’ll be here with Yeji and Jaemin soon.”

Jake wasn’t stupid. He had once believed he was special to Heeseung. The notorious case of Heeseung’s egocentrism was a popular topic in the university’s hallways. Even his soccer buddies claimed Heeseung was a nutcase with extreme intelligence.

When Heeseung approached the basketball team and defeated Jake, the established ace of Seoul University, Jake developed a sense of respect and admiration for him. Despite everyone’s claims, Jake realized Heeseung’s issue wasn’t indifference or social deficiencies.

Everyone was infatuated, enthralled, and unequivocally aware of Heeseung’s gift; he commanded attention because he was extraordinary. The problem was that Heeseung didn’t care about them, and when people realized this, their fantasy shattered, leaving them scraping for bits of attention and bitter envy.

Jake knew Heeseung kept him around for a reason, but despite his awareness, Jake was willing to be a pawn if it meant catching Heeseung’s attention.

“Jakey Jakey— it’s your birthday!” Jake looked away, finding his best friend, Park Sunghoon, on the other end of the hall with a gift bag. Jake’s smile grew, and he signalled to Heeseung that he was heading over. Heeseung nodded, and Jake scurried off.

Heeseung averted his gaze, staring back at the main entrance. The delay grew unbearable, and he considered heading out to the parking lot when suddenly he spotted Jaemin and Yeji walking inside.

He stood alert, his gaze tensely fixed on the door.

He held his breath as you walked into his line of sight. His body felt the shift, breath quickening. His fists tightened, and his gaze traced your body with unfiltered haste. 

Fuck, that black body-con dress, outlining your curves, hugging your body like a second skin. His grip on the glass tightened. The dress revealed your defined collarbones, and the slit from the knee paired with black-heeled boots showcased your smooth, honeyed legs. Your hair was curled slightly, silky strands falling in waves against your cheeks, reaching your elbows.

Heeseung’s head throbbed as he tried to decipher his feelings. Seeing you walk inside with that dress made something rise in his throat, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. It was worse, mentally and physically damaging.

How fucking demeaning. He was a man who never felt the burn of envy, but a fucking dress had him feeling so weak—so horribly jealous.

He wished he could tear it off and burn it to ashes like the scorching flames in his own blood. He had planned this moment all morning, intending to walk up to you with a smile, but now he found it difficult to breathe, let alone move.

However, the world doesn’t stop. Even if he couldn’t move, you very much could.

Your stray gaze finally landed on the familiar figure, and you walked up to him. You still weren’t mentally prepared to face the man you had been dreaming of for the past few weeks, but you found it unkind to ignore him when he had planned this lavish party.

You smiled, holding out a small gift bag.

“As far as I recall, it’s not my birthday,” Heeseung finally found his voice, his cheeky comment making you narrow your eyes.

“It’s basic etiquette to bring something when you visit someone,” you replied a hint of playfulness in your tone. You caught sight of the gift display in the backdrop where innumerable presents were mounted on the table. “I’ll take it there,” you politely acknowledged.

You were ready to walk off, but Heeseung pulled you back, instantly grabbing the present. Taken aback, you opened your mouth to question him, but he ignored your curious gaze.

Everyone stealing reserved glances at the duo paused, their eyes wide, jaws dropped in amusement. Like a boy opening his Christmas gifts, Heeseung rushed to untie the ribbon and tear through the wrapping paper.

“Heeseung, it’s not that great…” your panicked voice cut through, cautious of everyone’s expectant gaze on your gift. The plea went right through him, and he finally discovered a small clear bottle.

You brought him cologne.

You had racked your brain for days on what to bring him, and you had decided upon a blackberry cologne. The succulent scent carried a sinful aura, an intimidating and enigmatic aroma that perfectly captured Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung ran his thumb over the label. Then he unscrewed the top and sprayed it on his wrist. As he brought it to his nose, his heart felt fuller than before.

He imagined you walking into a Jo Malone store, attentively trying numerous scents until the abundant smells overstimulated your senses as you thought of him. How long did you spend deciding on the perfect one? How long did he manage to fill up your head?

“It’s just a small gift,” you mumbled, analysing his features.

“It’s perfect.” He said it with so much sincerity, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Where’s my gift?” Jake appeared with some of his rowdy friends from the sports club, his arm linked with the ice skater, Park Sunghoon. He pouted dramatically, his bottom lip sticking out. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Last I checked, you asked me to buy you a Nintendo Switch as an early birthday present,” you replied. Jake gave you a mock glare. “That was ages ago,” he huffed.

Before you could retort, you caught Yeji's eyes from across the room. She stood by the bar, urgently motioning for you to come over. The alarmed look on her face made you excuse yourself from the guys as you hurried to her.

Yeji grabbed your arm with an intense grip, struggling to catch her breath as a crazed laugh bubbled up her throat.

“You’re kidding,” she gasped. “You were talking about Lee Heeseung!” She roared with laughter, her expression priceless as she turned to you.

You stared at her, confused. “What?”

“Y/N!” She shook you slightly, her wide eyes trembling with excitement. “You don’t know him? He’s popular across the entire district!”

Seeing your blank expression, Yeji took it upon herself to fill you in. She pulled out her phone and showed you Seoul University's popular forum dedicated to Heeseung. As she clicked through the links, you realised the man was practically the definition of perfection.

His father owned a large-scale pharmaceutical corporation, and Heeseung was the sole heir. Despite this parental security, he was at the top of his classes, captain of the basketball team, head of the arts and music society, and president of student affairs. By his second semester, he had already secured an internship at HYBE, a massive healthcare conglomerate—separate from his father’s influence. He was so incredibly intelligent that the college even commemorated his achievements with dedicated newsletter columns and interview sessions.

As you absorbed this overwhelming information, Yeji’s tone flattened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “But, Y/N, he’s known as a player,” she reluctantly added. “Apparently, there hasn’t been a girl he hasn’t had.”

You stared silently at the soles of your boots.

Of course, he was a player. Anyone would drop to their knees for a chance to be with him. You had read somewhere that gravitational pull was the strongest in a black hole, but science hadn’t investigated the world’s pull towards Heeseung. You had only met him a couple of days ago, yet he had already made you feel so unbearably enraptured.

Ruminating over Yeji’s words, you were speechless at your own disappointment. How could he affect you so terribly?

“But—he’s never had anything serious,” Yeji tried to console you, squeezing your shoulder.

Throat tightening, you attempted a smile.

“Who invited them?” Yeji's gasp broke through your thoughts, her mouth hanging open, eyes bulging in shock as she stared behind you.

You shifted, turning to see what had her so stunned.

Your jaw dropped.

In walked a couple, hand in hand, wearing complimentary outfits. A couple you hadn’t spoken to in ages, a couple that haunted your sleepless nights: Park Jongseong and Yu Ji-min.

Your frantic gaze searched for Jake, conflicting emotions swirling across your face as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Your older brother stood inattentive, engrossed in a conversation with Sunghoon as Jay approached him, wearing a broad smile. You watched them exchange a quick handshake, Jake accepting a large gift box.

“Why would Jake invite him?” Yeji huffed.

You didn’t know—but a gut feeling told you this was meant to happen.

The familiar gaze met yours. He was now heading to the leather couch beside his girlfriend, his eyes trained on you. You offered him a tight smile, your insides trembling in growing anxiety.

Jay was stern, his gaze cold and disdainful. Whilst maintaining eye contact, he pulled his girlfriend to sit on his lap, his grip tight on Ji-min’s waist as she whispered something into his ear. 

Your smile dropped at his immaturity.

You had lost both your friends, Jay and Ji-min, because of your mistakes. You had avoided them like the plague, and something deep within you suggested that the mysterious rumours circulating around the university weren’t just random gossip; they were spread by someone you had once considered as close as Yeji.

Something more sinister gnawed at your insides. 

Heeseung.

Amidst the chaos, you felt someone’s piercing gaze on you. Like a magnet, you found him. Under the blue strobe light, Heeseung stood leaning against the bar’s counter, flanked by a few girls, with his eyes fixed on you, watching like a hawk.

Though he was a stranger—a complete nobody in your world—you still felt he was reading you like an open book. Anxiety washed over you, your throat drying up under his intense scrutiny. If your life was split into meaningful chapters, Heeseung knew it by heart, his gaze uncomfortably invasive, expectant as if judging your next move.

A waiter zooming by caught your attention, and you pounced on the opportunity. Fingers trembling, you grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it in one go, the liquor leaving a bitter burn in your throat.

“Y/N, you don’t hold your liquor well,” Yeji frowned. One drink never hurt anyone, and besides, this was a party—everyone was soon going to lose their marbles.

You turned away, grabbing another drink from a passing waiter.

“Y/N, stop!” Yeji warned. You smiled tightly, ready to throw more alcohol into your system.

In a flash, Heeseung, who had been a good fifty people away, stood towering over you. He snatched the glass from your grasp and chugged it down. You watched in disbelief as he slammed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, his gaze darkening as he stared at you. Yeji took it as her cue to scram, rushing to accompany her boyfriend on the dance floor.

Your stomach clenched with want. Even simply dressed in a black t-shirt and leather jeans, his expression sour, his appeal was uncanny. He made you forget the elephant in the room.

“So— he bothers you that much?” Heeseung spat, his voice low and venomous.

He had planned to watch from the sidelines. Jongseong’s name was enough for Heeseung to find sources and sniff out your past link. He was told you had rejected the boy, but that didn’t match Jake’s description of your first crush.

It didn’t take long for Heeseung to realise that you really did like Jongseong, your affection reflected in that picture you still chose to keep. The reason you had declined his proposal wasn’t a mystery either. You feared ruining a chance at friendship, and that conclusion made Heeseung sleepless.

Heeseung had orchestrated this party and invited Jongseong, just to watch your heartbreak. He wanted to dwell in the forlorn misery in your gaze, relish in the fury and hatred fuelling your agonised expression. He wanted you to shatter so that you were left with no choice but to find him. So that he could collect those shards and piece you together. For himself.

Yet here you stood, bothered and apologetic. There wasn’t one bad bone inside you, your heart pure like the sunshine that streaks through his curtains every morning.

“How do you know about Jay?” You curiously pointed out, folding your arms and gazing up at the man.

Heeseung flinched at the nickname. Tightening his fists, he responded with gritted teeth. He didn’t need to lie for this.

“Jake.”

One word and your face crumbled, your finger pointing at the blonde who laughed beside his friends. “Why can’t that idiot keep his mouth shut?” You complained, glaring daggers. You couldn’t believe your brother blurted out your business to Heeseung.

“Do you still want him?”

Say it.

Say it, and he’ll burn this place down, along with Park Jongseong, leaving you with nothing—not even a corpse to mourn—just a speck of remains and dirt.

“I don’t.”

His eyes shifted back to their brown.

“I just wish I hadn’t lost my friends.” You glanced down at your shoes, face shrouded in despair as you reminisced the past.

Heeseung watched the sorrow flicker in your deprived eyes.

This was simpler than he had imagined.

“Let’s get the party started!” Jake yelled at the top of his lungs, carrying a huge celebratory bottle of champagne as everyone huddled around him.

Yeji appeared by your side, dragging you towards the crowd where Jake prepared to unseal the wine, like a cake-cutting ceremony. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Heeseung walk up beside you—until everyone, including Jake, roared for him to come forward.

You watched Heeseung shake his head dismissively, but Jake’s adamant smile made him falter. For the first time, you saw a crack in Heeseung’s stern façade, a genuine sense of joy flashing through his expression.

You watched with intrigue as he stepped up, and Jake finally celebrated his twenty second. Everyone cheered as Jake popped the cork and showered Heeseung and Sunghoon with the essence.

Yeji over-excitedly gasped. During her overjoyed dance, she accidentally slipped forward, toppling her glass of wine onto your dress’s front. You quickly wiped at it, but the liquid soaked into the flimsy fabric with ease.

“Shit— sorry boo,” she cried over the music. You shook your head, dismissing her concern.

“I’m heading to the washroom,” you muttered. She nodded, unsure of your words, as the loud roaring and music drowned everything.

You slipped away from the chaos, excusing your way through until you managed to escape to the other end of the hall. You followed the dim hallway, the raucousness dissolving, as you searched for the nearest bathroom. You found a door at the far end with a staircase to your right and sped towards it.

“Long time.”

You turned, instantly freezing up.

Jay stood at the other end, speaking with his familiar calculated baritone. He stepped forward, watching your shocked expression morph into disappointment.

“Oh, seems like you’re not too happy to see me here,” he claimed, now standing a mere step away, his tone dripping with malice. “Is the princess running away again?” The darkness returned, his jaw clenched.

You gulped, standing upright. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you told him, turning away.

A bitter chuckle escaped his chest. “Of course, you don’t,” he spat. “Now that you’ve found a man, you don’t have much to say,” he claimed, running his fingers through his dark strands, his gaze menacing.

Your throat burned with hostility. “You’re ridiculous,” you huffed. “Following a girl when you’ve already got a girlfriend—seems like I dodged a bullet.” You uttered the words, disturbed by his arrogant nonchalance, and instantly the atmosphere grew with heightening tension.

Your cruel words seemed to inflict some damage as Jay’s body trembled, his fists tightening in aggravation.

Because you were right. He knew it.

As you stepped away, all common sense evaded him. He grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the wall, a gasp wrenching out of your chest as he hovered above, his hands gripping your waist with an iron grip.

“I never needed you,” he whispered, his eyes wide and pained as you attempted to free yourself, but Jay’s grip on your waist only tightened. “I’ve just liked the chase. You were so full of yourself—so pathetic. Nothing about you ever made me feel something—anything—”

A bloodcurdling scream wrenched out of your throat as a shattering sound reverberated within your frame. Your eyes bulged out, heart trashing and body quivering in horror. One second Jay was standing, staring at you like a madman, and the next, he was knocked to the ground, blood splattering against your cheeks, staining your dress and skin scarlet.

Breathe. Take a deep breath. Breathe.

You plummeted to the floor, your knees giving out as Jay’s forehead and neck covered in red pooled on the ground. You internally prepared yourself as you looked up, staring at the perpetrator.

A dull void of a gaze, Heeseung’s hand was wrapped around a half-shattered bottle with its sharpened edges dripping Jay’s blood. Your insides clenched in horror.

Heeseung stepped closer as Jay’s limp frame scrambled to sit up, his gaze chasing the danger, his grip on his head loosening as he spotted the man.

“You—you fucking lunatic—what the fuck is wrong with—”

Jay’s yelps fell on deaf ears as Heeseung discarded the bottle and plummeted to the floor before you, his pupils drained of colour and hands trembling as he caressed your cheeks. His thumb rubbed at the splashes of blood, eyes wide with terror—a terror you had never seen. More than his own actions, his line of concern was the beads of red staining your complexion.

“Hee…” you tried to speak, your throat dry and lips quivering.

“It’s okay—you’re okay,” his voice trembled as he consoled himself, more than anyone, his gaze frantically running over your body.

What you didn’t realise was Jay reaching out to grab the loitering bottle. Heeseung’s warm gaze and words were so captivating, pulling you away from the unfolding catastrophe. Suddenly, the fantasy shattered. Jay smashed the bottle against the back of Heeseung’s head.

You screamed, your body jerking alert as you pulled Heeseung into your arms, sobbing aloud. Jay stood on trembling legs, glaring at Heeseung with a poisonous look before limping away. You tightened your hold on Heeseung, your body shaking despite his grievous injury. The attack was strong enough to lash out blood but not wilful enough to break the bottle like Heeseung had done.

You tried to pull away to check his wound, but Heeseung pulled you back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Fuck. He could die right now and he’d be happy. Over the fucking moon. He almost wanted to thank that low-life for brusing him because it worked in his favour.

You gazed upon him with sympathetic attention, like you were gazing upon a wounded puppy. You were finally in his arms, letting him envelop you. He inhaled the scent of vanilla and fresh peaches, his hold on your frame tightening with desperation.

He wanted to consume you.

“Heeseung, let me see your wound,” you softly cried into his shoulder, unable to breathe at the intensity of his clutch.

“It’s not deep—nothing compared to what that moron will take home,” Heeseung arrogantly claimed. His prideful tone made your insides hurl; it reminded you of the initiation. Heeseung had started it all; he had slammed a glass bottle into Jay’s head.

You pushed him back, your gaze stern as you met his aggravated one. “Why?” You cried hysterically, recalling the insanity of the previous moment. “How could you—”

Heeseung’s expression grew colder than ice. “I’ll break every bone he used to touch you,” he declared, the honesty in his tone sending chills down your spine. 

“You literally almost murdered him!” You screeched.

Heeseung cracked a deluded smile. “He’ll wish I had.”

You felt speechless. Utterly stunned into silence. What did that mean? You wanted to assume that his fury made him speak nonsense, that he didn’t mean a word. However, when you stared into Heeseung’s gaze, your stomach turned at the resolute darkness, his words horrifyingly blunt and absurd.

You were about to call him out when you noticed trail of blood slither down the side of his face. You gasped. "You need to get to a hospital,” you urged.

“And explain what?” He scoffed with a playful smile.

You felt bewildered. Of course, you didn't care at the moment! As long as he got treated, you didn't care what lie he spat out.

You glared at him. “You need to get it checked out, Heeseung,” you muttered with concern, noticing the blood kept gushing in thicker streams.

Wordlessly, Heeseung grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and nodded as he pulled you to stand. You sighed in relief, grateful that he was finally listening. His grip never faltering on your hand, you both turned towards the venue.

Heeseung suddenly pulled you back, ignoring your confusion, instead climbing up the staircase. “What’re you doing?” You groaned, attempting to retract, but Heeseung just kept walking.

Upstairs, the living room was carpeted with posh couches and chairs. You passed by expensive paintings hung up on the wall as Heeseung took you inside a dark room, stalking through blindly until he pushed at another door.

Lights flickering on, you surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. Heeseung had brought you to a bathroom. You glanced at him in confusion as he shut the door and turned towards you.

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?”

“You said I need to get my injury checked out,” he responded, leaning down and grabbing a first aid kit from the cubby hole. “I’m doing it,” he flashed you a clever smile, his eyes shining with amusement.

Even if you were about to throw a tantrum, you couldn’t anymore. Heeseung’s words, his eyes, his smile, everything was enough for you to sit still and obey. You watched as he stepped towards the large mirror. He casually tilted his head to inspect the wound.

Expressionless, he opened up the first aid kit, grabbing a transparent bottle and cotton pads like a professional, as if he had already addressed such wounds in the past. With practised nonchalance, he soaked the cotton pad with the liquid and pressed it into the wound.

You winced, instinctively jumping forward to grab the bottle from his hand.

“Who deals with a wound like that!” You screeched hysterically.

Heeseung turned, his brows raised, lips pressed in confusion. You put forward your palm, glaring at him. He surveyed your stern expression and, to your surprise, gave in easily, handing you the stained cotton ball without putting up a fight. You had imagined he would claim he knew more—but Heeseung just stared at you passively. You gulped, edging forward.

You knew the wound was deeply ingrained on the right side of his head, but reaching it was an issue. You were a good half a person shorter than him, his towering frame allowing you to reach only his chest. Standing on your tiptoes, you could only make it to his collarbone. You tried pushing up to reach the mark, but it remained physically impossible.

You noticed the amusement sparking in his expression, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “What’s so funny?” You gruffly questioned, and his smile only grew more.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, setting you on the cold basin. He turned, towering between your parted legs.

“There.”

You quickly recovered, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your chest or the heat stirring from where he had just touched you. You reached up. The angle allowed you to address the wound better.

Thankfully, there was a single cut, slashing down to the nape. You held the cotton against the cut, letting it absorb the blood, and then gently swirled it across.

Heeseung’s breathing suddenly grew heavy, and you flinched, quickly scanning his face for hints of pain. “Is it too bad?” You muttered, your eyes wide and voice reluctantly soft.

He nodded. It was painful, so unbearably agonising like he was thrown into a fuming furnace, burning and dying, then reincarnating and burning every breath he spent in your vicinity.

His fists tightened, his gaze tracing your attentive expression, your lips puckered in deep concentration, hands so gentle, like a mother’s touch—or what Heeseung assumed must’ve been had he ever felt one. The past month he only dreamed of this moment—to have you before him, launched between his legs, attending only to him.

You cleaned up his wound with precision. He had practice, but your touch was magical—a healing balm of its own.

“Have you done this for anyone else?” His question came out gruffer than expected, his stomach twisting as he imagined you perched on a sink like this for someone else.

You finished cleaning up, moving to grab the bandage. “Of course not,” you huffed, peeling the bandaid from the wrapper.

“I just know I’m not supposed to stab wounds like that,” you sarcastically claimed, reminded of him jabbing his head. “You’re the future doctor… you should know this,” you leaned to the side, pressing the band-aid into his scalp.

“They teach us how to treat,” he stated. “Whatever gets the job done,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help but grimace at his words.

“If you don’t treat with the element of pain in mind, you’ll hurt yourself more.”

Heeseung's throat was suddenly tighter than normal.

You wiped your hands with a tissue. Shifting closer, you inspected Heeseung’s injury one more time. You were about to get off the sink when you noticed glimmering bits of glass nestled in his hair. Impulsively, you reached out, flicking the strands.

“Oh—!” You jerked away, your finger cut by an unseen sharp edge that pierced the flesh.

Before the blood even oozed out, Heeseung sprang forward, grabbing your wrist, his gaze wide with horror as he impulsively pulled your finger into his mouth.

An astonished gasp escaped your chest.

Wide-eyed, you watched Heeseung suck around your finger.

At the first drop of your blood against his tongue, Heeseung’s eyes screwed shut, his body heating up, the metallic taste mixed with your skin’s sweetness creating a delicious buzz within his taste buds. Maybe if he drank enough, you'd really become a part of his being; if he fused your blood with his, you'd somehow become his.

He lapped at the drop incessantly, his hand reaching to lock your wrist in place as he covered your finger with saliva.

There was a shift in the air. You felt it in your bones.

As he looked up, meeting your eyes while simultaneously drenching your finger inside his mouth, your body began to heat up. A burn ignited at the centre of your legs, your imagination running wild, your limbs quivering.

Time became meaningless as he revelled in the euphoric bliss. When he noticed you weren’t pulling away or flinching, his muscles clenched with want. Instead, your cheeks were redd, eyes fluttering in bashfulness. Warmth in his blood shot lower, pooling within his sensitive region.

A thrum vibrated his own being as Heeseung popped another finger into his mouth, his sucking growing intense, lascivious, and hungrier. Your body jolted as his slick enveloped your digits, his tongue tirelessly flicking and tasting.

You wanted to intervene and stop this madness, but suddenly you couldn’t find your voice. Your throat refused to cooperate, and your lips denied any help.

His gaze was trained on your expressions, every blink, every gasp. He wanted to memorise the way your cheeks blushed scarlet and mouth opened in silent gasps. You were so beautiful, so perfect, so his.

“Hee—” you managed to choke out.

Heeseung’s hardness jerked in his pants, his body shaking with want. You had just attempted to say his name.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away and yanked you to the floor. You fell against his chest, your feet staggering on the marble floor, a stunned gasp escaping your mouth. He didn’t let you process it, his moves sharp and abrupt.

Your jaw dropped as you felt the tent of arousal straining against your abdomen. Your underwear was drenched, muscles taut as the reality dawned upon you. Lee Heeseung wanted you.

“Feel that—fuck—do you feel it?” He rasped against your ear, his hardened tone and body making you forget any coherent response, your body tensing up in his embrace. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful—stunning—so breathtaking. You make me—” His voice cracked as he felt nestled his nose against your neck, sniffing like a dog.

“Make you…” you pleaded for him to continue, craving his validation.

“Make me pathetic—so damn pathetic,” he blurted, his mind elsewhere as he sucked onto your earlobe.

His kisses ran down your neck, and he urgently flicked the hair away to feast. He pressed his lips gently, wanting to savour every moment and worship every inch, but within the first contact, his patience was out the window. He pushed his throbbing body into yours, knocking you against the sink as his mouth opened wide, biting into your flesh.

His mind fell numb as your taste and scent drove him to the brink of euphoria. He found it strange how you turned him into a quivering virgin mess with just this.

Your gasps reverberated in the bathroom walls, your frame quivering.

His touch was desperate, persistent like he was holding onto you for dear life. Fingers interlocked in your strands, body shaking with restrain as his mouth devoured your neck, you felt lost in a sea of pure bliss. You hadn’t had many sexual experiences in your life, but whatever make out sessions you had shared with boys in first year didn’t live up to this feeling, this hunger— from him.

“Ah!”

Every hair on his body stood alert. Your sounds were so pretty just like your body. He knew he couldn’t live without absolutely breaking your resilience. He had to tear through your exterior and drag out the vulnerable girl who moves to his rhythm, sings to his beat and responds to his call.

“Heeseung—Ah!” Your body tensed, his name falling from your mouth as his kisses grew frantic, prolonged. You were so flustered that you felt the world knock off its axis. You urgently held onto his tense shoulders, hoping you wouldn't fall over with the intensity of his want.

Had it been any other girl in his arms, anyone, he’d have thrown her on the floor and fulfilled his depraved desires. He’d have coerced her lust, used and abused her body like a mere object for his release. He wanted to do the same to you like he’d envisioned every night.

But you weren’t any girl. You weren't a momentary escape. For the first time in his life, he wanted it both: lust and love. He wanted to ruin you for everyone— not just physically but emotionally. He wanted your body and your soul.

And you were the sole reason he unwillingly held back, restrained his desire to rip you apart.

Breathless and flustered, you struggled to gather your thoughts. Your body was begging for him, but you couldn’t look past the reality.

This was Lee Heeseung, the hottest playboy, the genius, the most eligible bachelor in Korea—and most importantly, your brother’s best friend. You were calling his name so embarrassingly, and you were certain going all the way, he’d have nothing to do with you after tonight. He was like a forbidden fruit, so effortlessly desirable but never yours.

He will never be yours.

Your eyes burned with tears. You had managed to like him so much, and tonight it would crumble apart. Just the way you had ended up running from Jay, you should run from Heeseung before he takes your heart with him.

Determined, you pushed against him. The sudden move knocked him away, his reddened face twisting in confusion and frustration at the distance.

You quickly stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on your face. Your complexion as red as a cherry, eyes shining, indicating hints of your previous bliss; Heeseung had littered red and purple marks all over your neck, his saliva still warming your flesh.

Behind you, Heeseung appeared, wrapping his arms around your waist. His eyes locked onto your reflection, his gaze darkening as it traced the curve of your neck. The heat between you intensified, his desire becoming evident as he pressed his aching body into yours. His eyes fluttered shut, savouring the sensation of your soft curves against him.

Embarrassingly, your abdomen clenched again.

“T—this is wrong. Stop,” you babbled, pushing him away, your dejected tone falling on deaf ears as he pressed into you again. “Heeseung—” You turned, using all your force to push him away. He looked up, his eyes clearly unfocused.

The bathroom was getting stuffy now. His unnerving gaze made it hard to breathe. You stepped away, yanking the bathroom door open and rushing out into the bleak room, your breathing unnecessarily heavy. Your body was aching with arousal, wanting to go back into his arms and give yourself up.

Heeseung shot out, grabbing your waist and jerking you into his hold, his heavy breaths lingering against your earlobe. You tried pulling away when suddenly he whipped you around.

With darkness blinding your vision, you couldn’t evade him as he yanked you into his chest and slammed his lips into yours.

The taste of cherries overwhelmed your senses, your body liquifying as he immediately plunged his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.

Every instant in his life had brought him to this moment. He knew it when he kissed your mouth, licked your tongue, traced your gums—he knew you were meant for him. Your beauty was his to ruin. Your taste was his to devour. Your love was his to take.

A strange sensation flared up in his chest, spreading to his heart. For the first time, all his medical knowledge felt useless—he didn’t even feel human because even they could identify sensations.

Heeseung cupped your jaw, his lips trembling as he took in all your taste had to offer. His teeth clashed with yours, and his saliva dripped down your chin, his tongue rolling against yours as he poured an overwhelming flood of unnamed emotions into you.

His erection pressed against your lower stomach as he kissed you breathlessly. Suddenly, he was tearing at his buttons, desperate to feel your skin against his.

His kiss felt urgent, charged with arousal. You felt like you would blow into tattered pieces with the intensity of his touch, his deprivation and lust. Your fingers ran through his tousled strands, clenching for semblance of control as he sucked the soul out of you.

Your lungs flared up in discomfort due to the limited oxygen supply. You gasped, pushing at his shoulders with all your strength. Heeseung’s grip didn’t falter. Your gasps grew more strained and alarming. Only when you felt tears blurring your vision did Heeseung relent.

Both of you panted like dogs, heaving breaths echoing through the room.

“Stop it!” You screamed, pushing him away as you blindly searched for the exit. 

Yellow lights flickered on, the sudden burst blinding you momentarily. Heeseung stood like a barrier blocking the door, his advantage clear as he seemed to have the room mapped out in his head.

Pupils blown out, he panted, his gaze clouded with the need to ravage and devour you whole. His undone button-down hung the shoulders, revealing honey toned chest and tense abs, descending lower into his pants. Your mouth dried up, but you forced yourself to remain unfeeling.

You voiced out, “Let me go—”

“Why?” He asked gruffly. His eyes locked onto your trembling orbs, his brows arching in frustration.

“I can’t have you?” He whispered.

His words were laced with provocation. He hadn’t felt such an urgency to ruin someone, ever. He ached to feel your skin against his. He was hurting to fill you. If you wanted, he would plummet to his knees, stick out his tongue and shamelessly beg, plead. 

You looked at him with indifference. “You’re my brother’s—”

“So what?” He barked, his abrupt interruption making your breath stutter.

He stepped closer until he had you pressed against the wall, his arms on either side, locking you in place. You hadn’t expected him to be this eager. Why did he care? A man like Heeseung could get any woman on earth. One look and they’d drop their panties to the floor. Your glare grew more acrimonious at the realisation.

You pushed at his chest, your fingers grazing his warm skin, lighting up fireworks in your system. “I refuse to be your one-night fantasy, Heeseung,” you stuttered, unshed tears slipping out.

The fury in his gaze collapsed, his lips parting in stunned horror.

This was your chance…to run free, to protect whatever’s left of your heart. Hastily, you dashed to the door, your grip pulling at the handle when suddenly Heeseung was behind you, enveloping your waist.

You screamed and struggled, your feet kicking the air as he carried you away and tossed you onto the bed. You fought against his manhandling, punching and pushing against him, but he just stared at you like you were a weak feline lashing out.

He let you burst out until your energy had depleted and you fell limp.

“You’re fucking joking,” he laughed, disbelief coursing through his frame. “One night fantasy?” He spat, his fists tightening at the audacity of your words.

You stared back, matching his intensity. “Isn’t it famously known?" You huffed. “You don’t touch a woman you’ve had once,” you snarled, your tone dripping with hostility.

That sent him spiralling. “I don’t,” he declared. He watched the spark in your eyes die down, tears running down your cheeks. You attempted to get up, but Heeseung dropped to his knees, his hands scrambling to cup your face.

His heart pounded so hard, that he felt its drumming within his entire being. “You’re not any woman,” his voice cracked, his throat tightening as he kissed your tears one by one. “You’re mine."

He hadn’t said anything more honest in his entire life.

Yet, you looked at him the same—awfully sceptical, disbelieving. He had attempted to pour out his heart, claim you as his, but you gazed at him like he was a liar, a deceiver. Heeseung dropped his arms, anger surging within his blood.

“You don’t believe me,” he declared, his tone laced with bitter sarcasm.

You wanted to so badly—but you had no reason to. Why would he fall for you?

You watched as Heeseung’s gaze frantically scoured the room.

Something ominous was happening. You felt your stomach twist. You called his name, but he turned away, dashing towards the study table. You stared in confusion as he grabbed his car key. 

Without any warning, Heeseung struck the sharp edge into his chest, stabbing himself in his sternum. A scream lurched out your throat, your breath stuttering as you attempted to get to him. He forced the key inside, tearing through the flesh in a line. Blood gushed through the wound, but Heeseung’s concentration remained firm.

“What the fuck— stop-stop!” You screeched, finally getting a hold of his arm.

He didn’t stop, still working on creating the art piece he wanted you to see. You felt lightheaded as you fought against his determined actions. Unable to knock him back into reality, you decided to fling at the key, letting it slip from his grasp.

Horror ceased your chest. The scarred flesh formed a letter— your initial. You gazed up at him, your throat constricting as a soul-stirring chill escalated down your spine.

“If I carve you in my blood, will you believe me?” A pained gaze, a torn heart, a horrifying smile.

Your limbs trembled.

You glanced at the wound, lips parting in silent horror.

This was absurd— absolute madness. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, but you knew it was awfully dangerous like playing with fire or chasing a lion into its den. You should be scared— fearing for your life. You should escape right now when you have the chance. You should run and never look back.

There are many shoulds' you encounter in life, but none of them hold any value when something as desirable holds you by the throat. Someone as irresistibly horrifying as Lee Heeseung. Whatever you did next, you knew your fate was sealed. Even if you ran, you couldn't outrun him-- and somewhere in the pool of longing in your depraved heart, you didn't want to. You didn't want to find a way out.

You leaned down and wrapped your lips around his honey peck, swirling your tongue and licking the scarlet oozing from his self-inflicted wound, surprising yourself as you swallowed it down. 

Life and death stood at a standstill. Had you pushed him away, he’d still have ruined you, broken your soul to pieces and killed himself over hurting you. But you chose to acknowledge, indulge in his pained longing, accepting it like a lover's call, making him want to live more— chase more— love more. 

Vision glazed, heart thundering against his chest, he wrapped you in a breathless embrace.

Amid the chaos, a strained voice invaded the room. “Hee— fuck, we’ve got a problem.” 

Your head shot towards the door, eyes wide with fear. 

Fuck.

Your brother was at the door.

A rampant knock. “Hee— you in there?” Jake's voice spilt into the heated room, your body freezing. Heeseung didn't even spare the door a glance as he pressed himself within your body.

“They’ve come looking for drugs— I don’t know who’s called but the police are searching the place.”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets, jaw-dropping in horror.

Drugs? Police? 

Instead of concern or a slight hint of fear, Heeseung’s grip tightened on your wrists, and he attacked your lips, invading your mouth. You gasped, caught off guard, your jaw opening in a silent gasp. He swallowed your protests, his hands releasing your wrists to grope your butt-cheeks as he hoisted you up in his arms while sucking on your bottom lip. 

“Bro— are you seriously fucking someone right now?” Jake’s incredulous tone made you want to dig a hole and bury yourself inside.

Heeseung’s grip on your buttocks tightened, his groans purposefully filling the room like a silent message for Jake. His knees gave out, knocking you down, your body crashing into the bed as he vigorously unbuckled his jeans. His warm tongue feasted through your mouth, swallowing your complaints, his head lolling into your shoulders as he pressed wet, hasty bites down your neck. 

Another knock. 

“Fuck— Heeseung get out here! They’ve arrested Jongseong.”

You gasped.

What the fuck?

Heeseung paused.

Through glazed vision, he stared down at you. His lips slowly formed a smile that made every hair on your body rise.

Kim Sunoo had really come through, orchestrating a flawless drug raid, planting the evidence in Jongseong's bags and vanishing without a trace. Jay would waste away five years in prison for drug possession— barely enough to atone for the pain he gave you, hopefully enough to erase the longing that fucker held for you. Heeseung knew he owed his partner in crime a bottle of Soju next time Sunoo visited their shared farmhouse.

“Heeseung, we should—”

Heeseung licked your mouth, holding your trembling body in place, his fingers desperately tugging at your straps. Despite your persistence, he didn’t care for anything at the moment. Someone could tell him that the entire house was on fire or that the universe had collided into a meteor, crumbling to bits and pieces, and he’d still ignore it all.

For now, he will spend every second making you his—until his love is conveyed through his hunger, until his touch leaves scars and burns on your soul, until you love him enough to bleed him dry.

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 5

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 7k

warning; /

notes; Ok I might have wrote a lot for this chapter but you will understand why hihihi. Nothing much to say beside that things are finally starting to move and that I love reading your comments ! bisous bisous and see you tomorrowwwww //>_<//

here is the link for part 4 or part 6

---

After a long journey back from the Winter Court, you finally arrived home in Velaris, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of your surroundings. The shop was quiet when you walked in, a stark contrast to the chilly winds of the Winter Court that still lingered on your skin. As you stepped through the door, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Alex, his face lighting up with excitement as he spotted you.

“Nana! You’re back!” he exclaimed, bounding over to you with all the energy of a child who had been waiting far too long.

You chuckled, bending down to ruffle his hair. “I’m back, Alex. And I brought you something.”

His eyes widened in anticipation, his curiosity piqued. “What is it? What is it?”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small, intricately carved ice-blue crystal that glimmered like a frozen star. It was set on a sturdy leather cord, perfect for a young boy to wear without worrying about breaking it. “This is a special charm from the Winter Court. They say it brings good luck and keeps you warm even in the coldest of nights.”

Alex’s face lit up as he took the crystal, holding it up to the light. “Wow, it’s so cool! Thank you, Nana! I’m going to wear it all the time!” He slipped the cord over his head, the crystal resting against his chest as he puffed up with pride.

You smiled at his enthusiasm, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the charm. “I’m glad you like it. But remember, it’s not just for show—it’s supposed to keep you safe.”

Alex nodded solemnly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he was already planning on showing it off to anyone who would listen. “I’ll take good care of it, promise. Oh, and guess what? I scared off this really annoying customer while you were gone! Cassian and Azriel showed up and everything.”

You laughed, picturing the scene in your mind. “Did you now? I bet they were impressed.”

“They were!” Alex said, puffing out his chest. “Cassian said I handled it like a pro, and Azriel… well, he didn’t say much, but he nodded. That’s good, right?”

You chuckled, giving him a quick hug. “That’s very good, Alex. You did well.”

But as much as you enjoyed catching up with him, the exhaustion from your journey was catching up with you even faster. You stifled a yawn, feeling your eyelids grow heavier by the second. “Listen, Alex, I’m going to go get some rest. I’m dead tired after the trip.”

“Okay, Nana,” he said, still beaming. “I’ll be quiet. You go get some sleep.”

You gave him a grateful smile, ruffling his hair one last time before heading upstairs. The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, the weariness of the journey pulling you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When you finally awoke, it was well into the afternoon. The sunlight streaming through the window bathed your room in a soft, golden light, but your hair was a wild mess from your slumber, and you felt like you were still half-asleep as you went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

With a steaming cup of tea in hand, you made your way to the living room, still in your sleep clothes—an oversized shirt and comfortable pants—when you heard a knock at the door. You barely had time to react before Alex’s voice called out, “Nana, it’s Azriel! I let him in!”

Sure enough, Azriel stepped into the living room just as you were sinking into a chair, your messy hair and bleary eyes greeting him.

“Azriel,” you said, giving him a small smile as you tried to smooth down your wild hair. “No problem, Alex did well, but it seems like you have a habit of catching me in my sleeping clothes. At least this time, you came through the door and not by winnowing into my bedroom.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your disheveled state. “I’m learning to respect boundaries,” he replied, though the slight teasing in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head as you gestured to the kettle. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Sure,” he said, moving to take a seat across from you. “Tea sounds good.”

You busied yourself with making his tea, and soon enough, you were both sitting in the warm, sunlit living room, sipping from your cups as a comfortable silence settled between you.

“So,” Azriel began after a moment, “how was the Winter Court?”

You took a sip of your tea, thinking back to the icy beauty of Kallias’s realm. “It was cold,” you said with a chuckle, “but beautiful in its own way. Kallias and Viviane were wonderful hosts. The weapon I made for Kallias… well, he seemed pleased with it.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad to hear it. The Winter Court has always been a place of harsh beauty, but it sounds like you handled everything well.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his concern. “It was a good trip. But I have to admit, it’s nice to be back home.”

Azriel’s gaze softened slightly, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “We’re glad to have you back,” he said quietly.

There was a brief pause before Azriel cleared his throat, setting his cup down on the table. “I actually came by for another reason. Rhysand wanted me to let you and Alex know that you’re both invited to dinner at the townhouse tonight. We’d all love to catch up.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased by the invitation. “Dinner at the townhouse? Sounds like fun. I’ll let Alex know. He’ll be excited.”

Azriel’s lips quirked into a smile. “I’m sure he will be. It’ll be good to have everyone together again.”

You nodded, already looking forward to the evening. “Thank you for letting us know, Azriel. We’ll be there.”

As Azriel stood to leave, he paused, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than usual. “Get some more rest if you can. You’ve earned it.”

You smiled, touched by the concern in his voice. “I will. And thank you… for everything.”

With a final nod, Azriel turned and made his way to the door, leaving you alone in the quiet of your living room. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you finished your tea, the thought of tonight’s dinner bringing a smile to your lips.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you were invited to dine with the Inner Circle, and you had a feeling that tonight would be a night to remember.

—— 

You stood in front of the grand door of the townhouse, the familiar dark wood gleaming under the soft light of the evening. Your heart was beating a little faster than usual, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling in your chest. It wasn’t every day you were invited to dine with the Inner Circle, and despite your usual confidence, there was something about this gathering that made you feel… different.

Beside you, however, Alex was anything but anxious. He was practically bouncing on his toes, his wide eyes taking in the grandeur of the townhouse. His excitement was infectious, and despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

You glanced down at him, your mind drifting back to the moment earlier when you had told him about the invitation.

---

It was just after Azriel had left, and you were sitting in the living room, still holding your empty tea cup. Alex came bounding into the room, Stellan trotting lazily behind him, his large paws thudding softly against the floor.

“Nana! What was that about?” Alex asked, his curiosity piqued as usual.

You grinned at him, setting your cup down on the table. “Azriel stopped by to let us know that we’ve been invited to dinner at the townhouse tonight.”

Alex’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stood there, as if trying to process what you had said. “The townhouse? Like, with Rhysand and everyone?”

You nodded, chuckling at his reaction. “Yes, with Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, and the other members I guess”

Alex’s face lit up with excitement, and in his eagerness, he nearly tripped over Stellan, who gave a low, disgruntled growl as he narrowly avoided getting stepped on.

“Sorry, Stellan!” Alex said quickly, regaining his balance. “But did you hear that, Nana? Dinner with the Inner Circle! This is going to be awesome!”

You laughed, shaking your head as Alex started rambling on about what he should wear and how he should act. “Calm down, Alex. It’s just dinner. No need to get too worked up.”

But your words had little effect. Alex was too far gone in his excitement, and he spent the next hour racing around the house, nearly knocking over a vase, tripping over his own feet, and even trying to get Stellan to look “presentable,” much to the wolf’s annoyance.

---

Standing in front of the townhouse door, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Alex was now practically vibrating with excitement, his earlier antics leaving you more amused than nervous.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he fidgeted. “Just remember to be polite and—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the door swung open, revealing Cassian with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, look who’s here!” he boomed, his voice warm and welcoming. “Come on in, we’ve been waiting for you!”

You barely had time to react before Cassian was ushering you both inside, his large hand resting on Alex’s shoulder as he guided you through the threshold.

As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of the entire Inner Circle gathered around, the room filled with warmth and laughter. Rhysand was lounging on a plush chair, a glass of wine in hand, while Mor was perched on the arm of the couch, chatting animatedly with Amren. Azriel stood off to the side, his usual calm demeanor in place, but his eyes softened as they met yours.

“Y/N, Alexander,” Rhysand greeted with a charming smile, raising his glass slightly. “Welcome.”

You returned the smile, feeling your nerves slowly dissipate as you greeted everyone. “Thank you for having us.”

Alex, however, was utterly mesmerized by Mor. He had stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as he took in her beauty. Without missing a beat, he stepped forward, taking her hand in his own and giving her a gallant bow.

“My lady,” he said, his voice as smooth as he could make it, “you are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before the entire room burst into laughter. Mor, clearly amused, played along, giving Alex a warm smile as she allowed him to kiss the back of her hand.

“Wow, thank you, kind sir,” she replied with a wink, clearly delighted by his antics.

Alex’s face turned bright red, but he grinned up at her, clearly pleased with himself.

Cassian doubled over with laughter, clapping a hand on Alex’s back. “I like this kid! You’ve got style, Alex!”

But before Alex could bask in his moment of glory, Amren’s sharp voice cut through the room. “And what about me, little one? Aren’t you going to greet me?”

Alex froze, his eyes darting to the tiny but fierce figure of Amren. She was standing with her arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips as she eyed him expectantly.

Alex gulped, all his bravado suddenly vanishing. “Uh… h-hello, Lady Amren,” he stammered, taking a nervous step back.

Amren’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him. “Hmm. You’ll do.”

The room erupted into laughter again, and Alex, still blushing furiously, shot you a look that said, “Help me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re doing great, Alex.”

Azriel, who had been watching the exchange with a small smile, stepped forward, giving Alex a nod. “Don’t worry. Amren’s all bark and no bite. Mostly.”

Alex relaxed a little at that, though he still kept a wary eye on Amren, who had taken her seat and was now sipping from her glass with an amused look on her face.

Rhysand gestured to the seats around the large table. “Come, sit. Dinner’s ready, and we’ve got plenty to talk about.”

As you and Alex took your seats, you felt a sense of ease settle over you. The warmth of the room, the laughter, and the feeling of being among friends—it was all exactly what you needed after your time away. And as you caught Azriel’s eye from across the table, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation for what the rest of the evening might bring.

As everyone settled around the table, the warmth of the fire and the delicious aroma of the food made the room feel cozy and inviting. You could feel the tension from earlier dissipating as you found yourself surrounded by friends, their easy laughter and conversation helping you relax. Alex was seated next to you, his eyes wide with excitement as he took in the lively atmosphere.

Once everyone had their plates filled, Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on you with a curious smile. “So, Y/N, how was the Winter Court? I’m sure Kallias and Viviane were eager to see what you crafted for them.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your wine before answering. “It was cold, as expected, but beautiful. Kallias and Viviane were wonderful hosts, and they seemed very pleased with the glaive I made for Kallias. The Winter Court is breathtaking in its own way, with all the ice and snow—it’s like stepping into another world.”

Rhysand nodded thoughtfully. “I can imagine. The Winter Court has always had that otherworldly charm, though I’m sure it must have been a stark contrast to Velaris.”

“It was,” you agreed, smiling. “But it was a good trip, and I’m glad I went.”

Mor, who had been listening intently, leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You’ve traveled to so many courts, Y/N. I’ve always wanted to know—what was your favorite one to visit?”

You paused, thinking back to your many travels. “That’s a tough question. Each court has its own unique beauty and charm. But if I had to choose… I think the Dawn Court was my favorite. The way the sun rises there, casting everything in a golden light, it’s magical. And the architecture—delicate, intricate, almost ethereal. It was like walking through a dream.”

Mor sighed wistfully, clearly picturing it in her mind. “The Dawn Court is beautiful. I haven’t been there in ages. What about the Night Court? How does Velaris compare?”

You smiled softly, glancing around the room. “Velaris is home. No matter where I’ve been, I always find myself drawn back here. There’s something about the city—the warmth, the beauty, the people—that makes it special. It’s not just a place; it’s a feeling.”

Rhysand smiled at that, clearly pleased with your answer. “Well said. Velaris has that effect on all of us.”

Cassian, who had been busy demolishing his plate of food, leaned in with a grin. “Alright, we’ve heard about your favorite court. What about the one you liked the least?”

You didn’t hesitate. “The Spring Court.”

The table erupted in laughter, everyone instantly amused by your quick and blunt response. Even Rhysand, who often maintained a composed demeanor, chuckled.

Cassian grinned broadly, clearly enjoying the reaction. “The Spring Court? Why? Did you have some kind of swordsmanship beef with them?”

You shook your head, chuckling at his choice of words. “Not exactly swordsmanship beef… more like I have beef with the High Lord of the Spring Court himself.”

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, eager to hear more. Rhysand’s brow arched in curiosity. “Beef with Tamlin? Now, this I have to hear.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Let’s just say that Tamlin and I didn’t exactly see eye to eye. I was there to forge a ceremonial blade for one of his events. Everything was going well until he decided to lecture me on how to make it ‘more powerful.’”

Cassian snorted, already seeing where the story was going. “Tamlin, giving advice on blacksmithing? This I’ve got to hear.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Exactly. He had some… interesting ideas about how I should ‘channel the strength of the land’ into the blade. He went on and on about how it needed to be more ‘earthy’ and ‘connected to the spring’s essence.’ I tried to explain that I knew what I was doing, but he wouldn’t let up. Finally, I got fed up and told him that if he wanted an ‘earthy’ blade, he could make it himself.”

The table burst into laughter again, the image of you standing up to Tamlin clearly entertaining everyone.

Mor giggled, leaning closer. “Did he actually try to make the blade?”

You smirked. “He tried. And let’s just say that the results were… less than impressive. I may or may not have offered him some pointers in the end, which he didn’t appreciate.”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like Tamlin, alright. Always trying to meddle in things he doesn’t fully understand.”

Azriel, who had been quietly listening, allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. “I’m surprised he didn’t throw a tantrum.”

You shrugged, taking another sip of your wine. “Oh, he was close. But I think he knew better than to push me any further. After that, I decided it was best to finish the job and leave as quickly as possible.”

Cassian grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Y/N, the one person who managed to put Tamlin in his place.”

Everyone laughed and raised their glasses in agreement, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at being included in their camaraderie.

As the night wore on and the conversation continued to flow, you found yourself completely at ease, surrounded by the warmth and laughter of the Inner Circle. The food was delicious, the wine plentiful, and the stories shared around the table were as entertaining as they were revealing. It was in moments like these that you truly appreciated the bond that had formed between all of you—a sense of camaraderie that went beyond mere friendship.

After Cassian finished recounting a particularly wild adventure he’d had with Mor and Azriel during a mission in the Summer Court, Rhysand turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You’ve had your fair share of adventures too, Y/N. Surely you must have some good stories from your travels. Care to share one?”

You smiled, leaning back in your chair as you thought about the many escapades you’d experienced over the years. There were so many to choose from, but one in particular stood out—an adventure that was as ridiculous as it was memorable.

“Well,” you began, a playful grin spreading across your face, “there was that time when I was about 20 years old, and I almost ended up married to a complete stranger.”

The room went silent for a moment, and then everyone burst into laughter, clearly intrigued by the absurdity of the statement.

“Wait, what?” Cassian asked, his eyes wide with amusement. “You almost got married to a random guy? How in the Mother’s name did that happen?”

You chuckled, shaking your head at the memory. “It was a classic case of ‘wrong place at the wrong time.’ I was traveling alone, exploring some of the lesser-known parts of Prythian, when I got hopelessly lost in a dense forest. I had no idea where I was, and night was falling fast. I must have wandered around for hours when I stumbled upon this small village that wasn’t on any map.”

Rhysand leaned forward, clearly entertained. “Go on.”

“So, I’m exhausted, hungry, and completely disoriented,” you continued, “and I’m thinking, ‘Great, I’ll just find a place to stay for the night and figure things out in the morning.’ Well, as soon as I entered the village, everyone started acting… strange. They were all really friendly—too friendly. The next thing I know, they’re ushering me into this big feast, feeding me, giving me wine, and treating me like some kind of honored guest.”

Mor giggled, already seeing where this was going. “Oh no… you didn’t realize what was happening, did you?”

You shook your head, laughing at your younger self. “Not a clue. I was just enjoying the hospitality and thinking how lucky I was to have found such a welcoming place. But then, out of nowhere, this guy—the village leader, I think—stands up and declares that I’ve been ‘chosen by the spirits’ to be his son’s bride.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Alex, who had been listening intently, nearly choked on his drink. “You’re kidding! They just decided you were getting married?”

“Just like that,” you confirmed, grinning. “And here I am, completely blindsided, trying to figure out how I went from being lost in the woods to being engaged to a stranger. The son wasn’t even that bad looking, but I wasn’t exactly in the market for a husband, especially not one chosen for me by ‘spirits’ I’d never met.”

Cassian was practically doubled over with laughter. “What did you do? Did you just go along with it?”

“Not exactly,” you said, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all. “I tried to explain that there had been a mistake, that I wasn’t interested in marriage, but they weren’t having it. They kept saying it was ‘fate’ and that the spirits had spoken. So, in a moment of desperation, I pretended to get really drunk—like, completely wasted—and started acting as obnoxious as possible. I figured if I made myself seem like a terrible bride, they’d reconsider.”

Azriel, who had been listening with a rare, amused smile, tilted his head. “Did it work?”

You nodded, grinning. “Oh, it worked. They were horrified. The groom’s father eventually took me aside and, very politely, told me that perhaps the spirits had made a mistake after all. They sent me on my way the next morning with enough food and supplies to last a month, just to make sure I didn’t come back.”

The room exploded into laughter, everyone clearly enjoying the image of you drunkenly sabotaging your own wedding.

As the laughter and lighthearted stories began to die down, the mood around the table shifted to something more contemplative. Plates were being cleared, and everyone was settling in with their drinks, the warm glow of the fire casting flickering shadows across the room. You could feel the shift in energy, and it wasn’t long before Amren, ever the perceptive one, spoke up.

“So, Y/N,” Amren began, her voice calm but with an edge of curiosity that immediately drew everyone’s attention. “You’ve shown us some impressive abilities lately, particularly that blue flame of yours. Care to share a bit more about where it comes from?”

The room went quiet, all eyes turning to you. You took a deep breath, knowing this moment would come eventually. It wasn’t that you wanted to keep secrets, but the nature of your power was complex and not something you often spoke about openly.

You met Amren’s gaze, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “The blue flame… it’s not something I was born with. It came to me when I was younger, during one of my travels. I made a… pact, of sorts, with a being that fell from the sky. It granted me certain abilities in exchange for something that I wasn’t entirely aware of at the time.”

Rhysand, ever the curious one, leaned forward slightly. “What kind of abilities?”

You nodded, knowing it was time to explain at least the basics. “The blue flame you’ve seen is primarily a healing power. It’s incredibly potent and can mend wounds that most healers would consider impossible. But it’s not just for healing; I can also wield it in combat. The flame can burn through almost anything, though it doesn’t behave like ordinary fire. It’s… selective, in a way. It burns only what I intend it to.”

Azriel’s gaze was steady, his interest clear. “And the other abilities?”

You hesitated for a moment, choosing your words carefully. “I have the ability to see cursed beings and objects, to sense the malevolence within them. It’s as if the curse leaves a mark, something visible only to me. I can cleanse those curses, though it requires a lot of energy and sometimes comes with a cost.”

Mor’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s… incredible, Y/N. Those aren’t just ordinary powers.”

You nodded, grateful for her understanding. “They’re not. And they’re not without their risks. Every time I use them, I feel the strain. It’s like the flame is both a gift and a burden.”

Amren studied you for a long moment, her gaze sharp as if she was trying to see beyond your words. “And this being you made a pact with… it left a mark on you, didn’t it? Something more than just the powers.”

Before you could answer, Alex, who had been quiet during most of the conversation, suddenly piped up, his voice filled with the innocence of youth but also a deep familiarity with your abilities. “Did they see you as a phoenix ?”

The room fell into a stunned silence, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You turned to Alex, your eyes wide in surprise, and saw the realization dawn on his face that he had said too much.

Alex’s eyes went wide with panic, and he quickly tried to backtrack, his words tumbling over each other. “I mean, not a real phoenix, of course! I just meant, like, you know… the fire and all that… it’s kinda like a phoenix, right? My mistake everyone.”

The entire table was now focused intently on you, the weight of Alex’s slip-up hanging in the air. Rhysand’s gaze was sharp, though not unkind, and you could tell he was processing this new piece of information. Azriel’s expression had turned thoughtful, and even Cassian, who was usually quick to joke, remained silent, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

You took a deep breath, realizing there was no point in denying it now. You turned back to the group, your voice steady but with a seriousness that hadn’t been there before. “The being that granted me these powers… it referred to me as a phoenix, yes. It’s not just because of the fire, but because of the nature of my abilities. The flame, the healing, the ability to rise from near-death… it’s all tied to that essence.”

Amren’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze almost piercing. “A phoenix is a creature of rebirth, of cycles. Does that mean…?”

You nodded slowly, understanding what she was hinting at. “It means that, in a sense, I’m not the one in control of my life, it’s length at least. The pact I made altered me in ways that I’m still trying to fully understand. The flame, the healing… they’re all manifestations of that change. But with that power comes a responsibility, and it’s not something I take lightly.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. “A phoenix… that’s a rare and powerful being. It’s no wonder your abilities are so unique.”

Alex, still looking a bit guilty for his slip-up, glanced around the table before looking up at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,… I didn’t mean to say too much.”

You smiled gently at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “It’s alright, Alex. They were going to find out eventually. Better now than later.”

Cassian, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke up, a small grin tugging at his lips. “So, let me get this straight—you’ve got the power of a phoenix, and you can heal, burn through anything, and spot curses? Remind me not to get on your bad side, Y/N.”

The tension in the room eased slightly at his words, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Cassian. You’re safe… for now.”

The group shared a light laugh, and though the mood had shifted to something more serious, there was still a sense of camaraderie. They now knew more about you—about the weight you carried and the powers you wielded—but they accepted it without judgment.

As the conversation gradually moved on to other topics, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The truth was out, at least partially, and while there was still much more to your story, you knew that you didn’t have to carry it all alone.  

As the evening wore on, the laughter and conversation gradually shifted to a more relaxed, mellow pace. The plates had been cleared away, and everyone had moved from the dining table to the plush couches that circled the warm fire. You found yourself sitting comfortably, a cup of tea in hand, with Alex nestled in your lap. His earlier excitement had finally worn off, and now he was sound asleep, his small body curled against you, breathing softly.

The atmosphere was cozy, with the soft glow of the fire casting a warm light over the room. The conversations had turned quieter, more reflective, as everyone settled into the comfort of the late hour. You listened to the gentle murmur of voices around you, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite the weighty discussion from earlier, there was a feeling of peace in the room, a shared understanding that brought you even closer to these people who had become your family.

Rhysand was seated nearby, sipping his tea with a serene expression, while Mor and Cassian exchanged stories, their voices low but filled with the familiar warmth of friendship. Amren, ever the enigma, sat quietly, her gaze occasionally drifting over to you with a thoughtful expression, though she said nothing more about your earlier revelations.

Azriel, who had taken a seat near the fireplace, watched you with a gentle intensity that made your heart flutter slightly. His eyes lingered on Alex, who was now completely lost to the world, his head resting comfortably against your shoulder. There was something in Azriel’s gaze that made you feel… protected, as if he were silently vowing to keep you and Alex safe.

As the night grew even later, the conversations began to dwindle, and you realized it was time to head home. Gently, you adjusted Alex in your lap, careful not to wake him as you prepared to stand.

“I think it’s time we head back,” you said softly, glancing around the room with a smile. “Thank you all for a wonderful evening.”

Rhysand nodded, a kind smile on his lips. “It was our pleasure, Y/N. I’m glad you could join us tonight.”

Mor leaned over to give you a quick hug, careful not to disturb Alex. “It was really nice meeting you Y/N, you need to come by more often. It’s more fun with you around.”

Cassian grinned, raising his teacup in a mock toast. “And bring more stories! I need more material to laugh about.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of their affection. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As you carefully stood, holding Alex securely in your arms, Azriel rose from his seat as well. He moved quietly, but his presence was immediately reassuring. “Let me walk you home,” he offered, his voice low and sincere.

You looked up at him, the offer surprising you only slightly, though it was a pleasant surprise. “Thank you, Azriel. I’d appreciate that.”

With a final round of goodbyes, you carefully made your way to the door, Azriel by your side. 

As you both stepped out into the cool night air, the city of Velaris lay in peaceful silence. The streets were bathed in the gentle glow of the moon, casting a soft light on the cobblestone paths. The quiet hum of the city at rest felt soothing, and for a moment, you simply walked in comfortable silence, the weight of Alex in your arms a gentle reminder of the long day.

Azriel walked beside you, his presence a steady, reassuring warmth in the cool night. His wings were tucked close to his back, and his steps were as quiet as a shadow’s. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you and Alex, a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter.

As you reached the quieter part of the city, where the streets were lined with blooming night-blooming flowers and the sounds of the Sidra river murmured in the distance, Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for sharing your story tonight, Y/N. I know it wasn’t easy, especially with everything you’ve been through.”

You turned to look at him, his profile illuminated by the soft moonlight. There was a depth in his eyes, a genuine concern that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t before. “Thank you for listening, Azriel,” you said, your voice just as soft. “It means a lot to me that you were all there, that you… understand.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering down to Alex, who was still peacefully asleep in your arms. “You’re not alone, Y/N. We’re here for you, whatever comes next. And you don’t have to carry this burden on your own.”

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that settled deep in your heart. The idea of not being alone, of having someone to share the burden with, was something you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully believe until now.

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I could rely on others. I’m used to handling things on my own. But tonight… tonight made me realize that maybe I don’t have to be so alone anymore.”

Azriel’s eyes met yours, and in the silence that followed, there was an unspoken understanding between you. A connection that went beyond words. He reached out slowly, his hand brushing against your arm, the touch gentle and tentative, as if he were afraid to break the moment.

“You don’t,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to be alone, Y/N. Not with us. Not with me.”

Your breath caught slightly at the tenderness in his voice, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, standing under the stars. There was something in his eyes—something warm, something that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he were trying to convey everything he felt in that single glance, everything he couldn’t put into words.

“Azriel…” you began, your voice soft, almost hesitant. But before you could continue, he stepped closer, his hand now fully resting on your arm, his touch both reassuring and electrifying.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion you could hear beneath it. “You’re not alone. And if you ever need anything—anything at all—I’ll be there. I promise you that.”

His words wrapped around you like a protective blanket, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely safe. Not just physically, but emotionally, as if you could let your guard down and not worry about the consequences.

“Thank you, Azriel,” you whispered, your voice catching slightly. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever had someone say that to me. Not like this.”

He gave you a small, almost shy smile, something that seemed so out of place for the stoic spymaster but at the same time, so perfectly him. “Then I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

You couldn’t help but return his smile, your heart swelling with an emotion you hadn’t expected to feel. “You’re making it very hard for me to stay independent, you know.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Maybe it’s time you let someone in. Maybe it’s time you let me in.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you were lost in the intensity of his gaze, in the promise of something more. Something that scared you and excited you all at once.

“I think… I think I could do that,” you said finally, your voice steady but laced with the vulnerability you were allowing yourself to feel.

Azriel’s hand slid down your arm to gently take your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You can count on that.”

Before you knew it, you had arrived at your door, the night seeming to have passed in the blink of an eye. You stopped in front of your home, reluctant to let the moment end.

Azriel looked down at Alex, who was still asleep in your arms, and then back at you. “Let me help you get him inside.”

You nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. Together, you carefully brought Alex into the house, Azriel holding the door open for you as you made your way to Alex's room. Once he was tucked in, you both returned to the front door, where the night air greeted you once more.

Standing in the doorway, you turned to Azriel, your heart full. “Thank you, Azriel. For everything.”

He gave you that soft, sincere smile again, his eyes lingering on yours. “Anytime, Y/N. I meant what I said. You’re not alone.”

Azriel stood there, his gaze steady and warm as he looked at you. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his features, highlighting the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from him. For a moment, the two of you stood in comfortable silence, the world around you fading into the background.

After a few beats, Azriel cleared his throat, his voice low but with a hint of something more, something almost… hopeful. “Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “What is it?”

Azriel shifted slightly, his wings rustling as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? Just the two of us.”

The question caught you off guard, but in the best possible way. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your heart skipping a beat at the unexpected invitation. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him, trying to gauge if he was serious.

“Dinner?” you asked, a playful lilt in your voice. “Is this an official mission, or are you asking me on a real date?”

Azriel’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “No missions, no work. Just a real date, if you’re interested.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks, the thought of spending a quiet evening alone with Azriel sending a thrill of excitement through you. “I’d love that, Azriel. Dinner sounds perfect.”

The smile on his face widened just a fraction, but the emotion in his eyes spoke volumes. “Great. I’ll pick you up at sunset.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and warmth. “I’m looking forward to it.”

There was a pause, the air between you charged with something unspoken, something that didn’t need words to be understood. Finally, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—a gesture so tender, it nearly took your breath away.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

“Goodnight, Azriel,” you whispered back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

As he stepped back and began to turn away, you watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips. And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between you—that perhaps, in the quiet of the night, a new chapter had begun.

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[strawberri-yan]

Jing Yuan baby trapping trailblazer!reader, coercing them into giving up the trailbazing lifestyle, and the treating them like the finest treasure in all the Luofu!!!

He’s become too enamored of you with 0 intentions of letting you go. You are the only one good thing in his life and he believes he deserves to be selfish too for once. But when he heard the news you were to depart soon, it was as if his entire world was shattered. Reality had hit him hard when he had remembered that you were a Nameless! Your sole purpose was to travel to distant planets light years away. Therefore, the general decides to take matters into his own hands. Spiking your drink in a night of alcohol induced passion in your little get togethers. It was a one night stand that both of you promised to not let anyone else know, especially the Express crew.

As the days pass nearing your time at the Luofu, you notice the abnormal changes in your body in which you soon find out that you had fallen pregnant. The moment you shared the news with Jing Yuan in his private office, the atmosphere shifted as you were met with Jing Yuan’s enthusiasm and joy. Strong arms encircled around you, a warm and possessive embrace that seemed to promise protection and desire all at once before you feel yourself lifted in the air and twirled by the ecstatic general.

Jing Yuan voices how excited he is and couldn’t wait for his little one. Telling him how you and your child will be treated like treasures of the Loufu. He continues on adding that the two of you will wed right away so that the child could have proper parents. Yet you are very hesitant over the new drastic changes and his antics. A domestic, pampered lifestyle just wasn’t for you. You spoke your concerns with the general, negotiating that perhaps you could leave the child with Jing Yuan so that you may continue your trailblazing duties. You had expected the general to become upset yet surprisingly, he was calm and understanding which reassured you.

How wrong you were.

Later, you had found out that the express crew were getting detained over false accusations from the Loufu, their supposed crime was punishable for a lifetime of years in prison. Putting two and two together, you suspect that the general might have something to do with this. So you march towards his studies and demanded an answer.

"Jing Yuan, I demand to know the truth behind these accusations against my crew," your voice held a steely resolve. "You’ve done something, I know you have. All of this points right back to you.”

"(Y/N)," Jing Yuan's voice was velvety smooth, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance that contrasted the gravity of the accusation. "It seems you always had a way of seeing through the surface, don’t you? I'll admit, I've always admired your perceptive nature."

He leaned back in his seat, his golden eyes never leaving your face.

"You're right," he continued, his smile widening. "I did play a role in their detainment. But understand, (Y/N), I did it for you. To ensure your undivided attention and presence here. I see a future where you and our child are forever bound to the Loufu."

Jing Yuan's words were a careful dance, a balance of reason and manipulation. He spoke as if he had already woven a web that would secure you in his grasp.

“What..? “ you were speechless, not wanting to believe that your dear friend and ally would go to such lengths to get you to forcibly stay on the Luofu with him to raise a child you never wanted. “You endangered the life of my crewmates just because you wanted me to stay and play house wife with you?”

The general’s expression remained eerily serene despite the accusations hurled his way. His carefree smile persisted, a facade that concealed the complex tangle of emotions within him. "My dear, you are what simplify matters," Jing Yuan's voice was almost soothing, his words calculated to both placate and disarm. "I assure you, the lives of your crewmates were never in real jeopardy. I merely orchestrated a scenario to ensure our paths remained intertwined."

He gets up from his seat, taking a step forward you which causes you to take one back.

"I did it for us," he continued, his tone taking on a persuasive note. "To create a future where you and our child would be united under the banner of Loufu. A future where we could be together, as a family." Suddenly, your back presses against the cool surface of the wall. The General's cages you in as his freightening height looms over you, staring down like an eager predator. Jing Yuan's breath brushed against your ear as he leaned closer, his gaze unwavering. The General's hands moved with a deliberate slowness, tracing a path along your sides, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. His lips hovered dangerously close to your ear, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "After all, you have always been mine, even before you realized it."

[dragon-ascent]

You see Liyue's god, Morax, on the street and you lose your mind.

★彡takes place centuries ago, when Rex Lapis was said to be close with his people, Rukkhadevata still existed, etc.

In Teyvat, where gods and monsters roam the land, it is only natural that stories of the divine weave their way into daily life. As a child, you'd been accustomed to poring over books and pictures of the gods of other nations. Like Baal with her elegant, thundering might that could cleave whole islands in half in one stroke, and the playful Barbatos, who could blow away even the tallest mountains with a single gust of wind. They were all so charming, so ethereal, so complex. Your own god was no less impressive - the beautiful and divine Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, whose blessings of wisdom gave rise to your thriving nation.

The god that fascinated you the most, however, was Morax - or Rex Lapis, as the people of his nation so reverently called him.

In all the stories you'd read and the plays you'd seen, Rex Lapis was depicted as a fierce warrior god who could overcome any adversity thrown his way. He'd minted Mora from his own divine body, altered the landscape of Liyue during major battles, and bestowed blessings of illumination upon his adepti companions.

Most importantly, he is handsome.

Yes, it's a little silly to swoon over a religious deity, but...look at him. Every story you've read depicted him in the same way, be it in Inazuman manga or Sumerian amar chitra katha: long dark hair that was securely fastened by a gilded pin; toned arms that shimmered with hues of black and gold; and glimmering amber eyes set upon a face that seemed to be chiseled by Celestia itself.

Honestly, Rex Lapis is the main reason you're interested in pursuing higher studies in Liyue rather than in Sumeru, much to your parents' disdain. Why go to Liyue when Sumeru has a perfectly reputable Akademiya with well-established Darshans? But they know they cannot stop you: when your reverence for Rex Lapis has far transcended your devotion to Rukkhadevata almost since the moment you were born, why shouldn't you gain the opportunity to get closer to the god you love most?

So the day you get the acceptance letter from your dream academy in Liyue Harbor, it's a most joyous occasion indeed. After much jumping and screaming and cheering, you lay out your plan for when you first get to Liyue to settle into your dorm for the academic year:

Step 1: Find Rex Lapis.

Step 2: Woo him and become his consort...or something.

A masterfully-crafted plan, is it not?

---x---

It's not a far journey from Sumeru; the two are neighboring countries after all, and it takes about a day and a half by cart to get to the harbor. That's where Rex Lapis is most active, so you should certainly be able to catch a glimpse of him at least once during your fortnight here, yes?

Throughout almost the entire journey, your nose is buried in stories of Rex Lapis mingling with his people. Oftentimes this is done while he is incognito, his golden eyes the only thing giving away his identity.

Yes, that's another thing about him that wildly interests you - out of all the archons, he's one of the closest to his people. That's the whole basis for your master plan, no? It wouldn't work if he were to be cooped up in Taishan Mansion like he was originally supposed to be.

The scenery shifts from thick forests to vast valleys, and before you know it you've crossed the Sumeru-Liyue border. The landscape shifts to warmer colours, the ever-present green now blending with hues of red and gold. Mountains dot the horizon, and your heart pounds with excitement at the thought of Rex Lapis having formed them all himself. And, the moment you see a Statue of the Seven come into view and it's Rex Lapis instead of Rukkhadevata, you find yourself squealing for the carriage to be stopped for a moment.

Hurrying out and almost tripping over yourself with giddiness, you make your way over to the statue. "Oh my gosh!" You can hardly believe it yourself, but his stone likeness sits upon a throne, his face shrouded by a hood as he gazes contemplatively at a cube in his hand. With the way he's sitting...surely you can nestle yourself on his lap!

The carriage's coachman pulls you back before you can climb up the statue and incur your first penalty in Liyue.

---x---

Fortune is on your side for the most part, for your dorm is located in the perfect spot near your academy-to-be, and you get a lovely seaside view from your window. The rent came cheap as well, and you had a smooth and seamless moving-in experience.

The area where fortune is not on your side, however, is in the fact that you've been here for a week and haven't seen neither hide nor hair of the Geo archon. You'd been traipsing around the harbor all week to the point that you could probably point out all the landmarks like a local, but there was no sign of a certain golden-eyed man at all. (You knew this because you'd made sure to look into everyone's eyes - not long enough to be creepy but just long enough to get some confused looks.)

One consolation was the fact that the people of Liyue loved talking about their experiences with their god: how he had once used a spoon from this place to try food from that stall, how he had written a poem for this store and had personally named that restaurant...his presence was interwoven with the stories of this city and could certainly not be de-threaded from them.

So where on earth was he now?

Your question is answered when you're out buying potatoes at the market ("Rex Lapis himself had suggested this place sell potatoes!"), when the vendor nearly knocks your bag over as he bows deeply to the tall man who has appeared beside you. "Rex Lapis, it is an honor and a pleasure to see you back here again!"

You nearly drop those damn potatoes.

"Ah, think nothing of it, my friend. The vegetable arrangements you craft out of food waste are simply a delight to behold - and economical, as well. One might even say that..." As his rich, deep baritone engulfs your ears, you finally muster the courage to look up at him. The moment you do, your jaw practically drops to the pavement.

The manga and amar chitra katha weren't lying. If anything, they weren't even doing justice to his appearance.

Beautiful amber eyes set upon a chiseled face that exuded equal parts royalty and congeniality; long, silky dark hair held together by a lustrous gold pin; and through his archon robes you could make out the shape of his toned and muscular body.

"Ohmagaissreallyyouohgaohwhadahek..."

You hadn't realised you'd just babbled something until the god stops mid-conversation and turns to look at you curiously.

"Pardon me, little one, I didn't quite catch that."

Your legs feel like they're made of water; yet somehow you don't fall to the ground. He's looking at you, oh gods he's looking at you. "Uhhhhhh," is all you can utter.

He offers you a warm smile that could put even the morning sun to shame. If your voice worked, you would scream "I'm in love with you" at him. "Yours is a face I have not seen around here before. A visitor to my land, I assume?"

The only thing you can do right now is nod meekly. The god's eyes twinkle.

"Well, I do hope you enjoy your stay here. Liyue has much to offer, regardless of what it is you may be looking for." You nod dumbly yet again as he finishes his conversation with the vendor and, with a nod to you, Rex Lapis begins to stroll down the street.

Clearly his presence is not an infrequent occurrence, for everyone who passes by him merely greets him with mild nervousness and reverence, as opposed to hurling themselves at his feet and wailing words of praise at him.

Finally, your legs start working again. Before you know it, you find yourself running towards him. Rex Lapis, sensing your footsteps, turns to look at you.

You pause, catching your breath. Your heart is hammering away in your chest, and it's not because of the running. "I...have something I want to say to you...m-my lord!"

"Yes?" He eyes you curiously, head slightly cocked.

You bite your lip, your mind reeling. So many things to say, so little brain juice in you... "I - I think you're very handsome!"

Saying this, you run off, leaving the god to stand there and process what had just transpired. Classy.

[thesecretsofthedivine]

Pick a Pile Reading | Details About Your Future Spouse ⚖️💝

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*Disclaimer: This is a collective reading — take what resonates and leave the rest. If this resonates with you, please show support by reposting (with credit), tipping, or booking with me! :)

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PILE 1 COLLECTIVE

[ old money ] [ athlete/athletic build ] [ family-oriented, especially with their mother ] [ fluffy, curly hair ] [ brown hair ] [ looks good in/often wears the color blue ] [ will enjoy making pinky promises or playing with your hands ] [ tall for their gender ] [ mediterranean or european background, possible greek or british ] [ charming ] [ talkative ] [ golden retriever ] [ PDA ] [ almost always wears sneakers/tennis shoes ] [ gets along well with your friends & feminine energies ] [ conventionally attractive ] [ notting hill movie ] [ spontaneous first meets, maybe during a trip abroad/after moving to a new place ] [ gemini, sagittarius, capricorn, leo placements ] [ is very knowledgeable about culture, wines, fine dining, etiquette, etc. ] [ woodsy scents/would love to drink alcohol by a fireplace somewhere cozy, especially scotch or something old school ]

PILE 2 COLLECTIVE

[ enjoys orchestra/classical/instrumental music ] [ creatively gifted, especially in singing or photography ] [ likes to stay organized/clean ] [ gift giving as a love language ] [ nicknames that make you feel like royalty, “princess/prince” or “god/goddess” ] [ playful teasing ] [ fire sign, scorpio, aquarius, libra, cancer placements ] [ enjoys writing & keeping a journal ] [ homebody but somebody with status/notoriety & success ] [ using you as their muse on social media/in careers ] [ dyed hair for people attracted to feminines, especially pink ] [ manic pixie dream girl complex ] [ “you’re different than the rest” ] [ opposite aesthetic as you ] [ the great gatsby movie, especially jay & daisy’s attraction ] [ an old soul ] [ cynical and reserved humor ] [ light hair for people attracted to masculines, especially dirty/honey blonde ] [ somebody that i used to know — gotye ] [ a person you share a past/past life with ] [ the letters a, e, r, t, i, l, and n ]

PILE 3 COLLECTIVE

[ spiritually gifted/self-aware ] [ 9h, 12h, 1h, 3h, 5h placements or synastry ] [ optimistic ] [ teaches you how to connect to nature ] [ sent to you by your guides/ancestors ] [ in touch with their feminine side ] [ empress in tarot energy ] [ roots for the underdog ] [ enjoys investments & humanitarian work ] [ well-spoken ] [ amicable ] [ compatible political affiliations, but they may expand your understanding of the world ] [ wears jewelry ] [ would love to get matching tattoos or wear matching clothes with you ] [ manifestation/spell work is a factor in this romance/one of their hobbies ] [ wants to build a home out of you ] [ provider ] [ sensual ] [ connected to their inner child & may like to watch disney/nostalgic movies, especially frozen ] [ a huge cuddler ] [ winter birthday for some ]

PILE 4 COLLECTIVE

[ flexible or enjoys dancing ] [ aesthetic hands ] [ a lover of the arts ] [ soft or quiet voice ] [ socially anxious ] [ remembers the small details about you ] [ impresses your family/mother upon first meet ] [ has a cat or younger sibling for some ] [ lets you paint their nails or practice makeup on them ] [ short hair, may sometimes get perms or curling techniques ] [ thin frame ] [ infp/infj/intj/intp/etc type of personality ] [ indie or soft pop music lover, especially clairo ] [ soft kisses ] [ prone to blushing or avoiding eye contact ] [ pale skin ] [ talks about you to their best friends ] [ karaoke/comedy clubs ] [ graham crackers ] [ strong perfume, especially floral/rose ] [ height difference/size kink ]

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Moonlight Sunrise (Part 1)

Minatozaki Sana x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, non-idol

TYPE: Short fic Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Slowly making your way down the dusty, unfamiliar roads, you passed several guards waving large indigo-purple flags.

“Only two more days before the labyrinth opens!” they yelled, “Find the Luminite Stone and save the princess from the labyrinth!”

Several men, presumably the best knights and warriors of their kingdoms, crowded around the guards, sizing each other up and boasting about their wins.

As you passed by the crowd, you quickly pulled down your hood, trying to avoid any suspicion. There was a low possibility that anyone recognized you, as you were more of an assassin, always with your face covered. However, you were worried that others from the same profession might be present as well.

It was almost time for the annual labyrinth challenge, where warriors and knights from all over the world traveled to the Minatozaki kingdom, one of the most powerful kingdoms existing, to save the princess and win her hand in marriage. The only child of King Minatozaki had been cursed by one of the eastern witches after they were accidentally omitted from the baby’s birth celebration. It was rumored that she had one of the most angelic faces to grace the earth, but right after her 17th birthday, she disappeared from public view altogether.

A labyrinth of a thousand acres suddenly appeared at the borders of the kingdom, shrouded by dark clouds and vine-covered walls thousands of meters high. In the core of the labyrinth was the Luminite stone, a stone that grants the beholder any wish, and the princess’s soul was also bound to the stone. The princess was said to only be seen in the labyrinth, forever lost in the dark.

King Minatozaki loved his daughter dearly. Although he was reluctant to marry her off to just anyone, he knew that he himself couldn’t manage to retrieve the stone with his daughter's soul from the labyrinth. He wanted his daughter free from the grasp of the labyrinth, so the only way to do so was to hold a competition every year when the gates to the labyrinth opened.

Anyone who managed to make it out alive with the stone would be able to have their wish granted, but at the same time, as they now had the stone, they would be in control of Princess Sana, and the entire kingdom would be inherited. This prompted countless greedy men to try, hoping to have their deepest desires fulfilled and to possess the most beautiful human to grace the earth. However, not once had anyone made it out alive from the past ten competitions, all disappearing mysteriously.

You couldn’t care less about owning an entire nation, let alone marrying a random princess that you had never seen. You were there for the one wish that would be granted by the Luminite Stone. You had someone to save, and that brought you out from the private, invisible life as an assassin.

.

.

.

.

The sun was setting as you finally reached the golden gates of the castle. Its towering walls, adorned with intricate carvings and banners bearing the kingdom's crest, loomed majestically against the dusky sky. Each night leading up to the competition for the week, the King hosted lavish banquets within the castle's celestial halls.

These gatherings weren't just about food; they were a spectacle, ensuring the competitors were not only well-fed but also immersed in the grandeur of the kingdom. Newcomers were welcomed with open arms, and given the chance to register, mingle, and familiarize themselves with the labyrinth's complexities before the daunting challenge ahead. After all, this was probably the last time they would ever have something to eat before they met their end in the labyrinth.

The banquet hall buzzed with hundreds of men, their voices echoing off the walls. You spotted a few familiar faces from your past travels but made a beeline for the reception, preferring not to draw attention. After all, the labyrinth held not only unknown monsters but human threats as well.

“Name?” the page asked without looking up, his tired face buried in countless scrolls of paper.

“Hwang Y/N,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably and pulling your hood even higher over your face.

The page paused, his hands trembling slightly as he looked up at you. His eyes widened in shock, and he pushed his glasses closer to his eyes, clearing his throat.

“Hwang Y/N? The NightWalker?”

You nodded, expressionless, as the man cowered in fear.

“I-I didn’t expect you to participate in these events.”

“Is that a problem?”

“N-no… of course not. I guess even assassins have an eye for beauty,” he nervously laughed, expecting you to agree.

You narrowed your eyes at his comment, disbelieving how even those who worked for the princess treated her as an object.

“You should keep your mouth shut before I cut off your tongue,” you whispered in his ear, watching with satisfaction as he fumbled with his pen.

Before you could do anything else, a warm arm wrapped around your shoulders. Instinctively, you reached for your small knife, but the intruder's hand firmly grasped yours, firm yet unthreatening.

“Now now, Hwang. That’s not how you greet an old friend, is it?”

You turned to see Momo, one of your close colleagues before she became head of security for the Minatozaki Kingdom.

“Hirai,” you sighed, pulling her into a hug.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger. It’s been, what, three years since I last heard from you?”

“Five,” you grinned, feeling more at ease with Momo by your side.

“Yes! Exactly! Ever since you took down the Kim Clan, you just disappeared,” she sighed dramatically, leading you toward a table filled with exotic cuisines. She grabbed a bottle of champagne, taking a sip before passing it to you.

“The hero of the century, gone without a sound, forever remaining a mystery. Face unseen, name forever known. Until now,” she said as if narrating a fairy tale. “She shows the world her face, to save the damsel in distress.”

You rolled your eyes and took a swig of champagne. “I’m not here for the princess or power.”

“Whichever reason you are here for, I won’t pry. I’ll just be cheering you on from the sidelines.” Momo smirked, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. Her respect for your privacy was always something you loved about her.

“Anyway, I have to get back to my duties. Let’s catch up tomorrow before the challenge.” She says loudly, before whispering in your ear, “take the door on the left, and go down two flights of stairs. You’ll find the backdoor to the garden.”

As if nothing happened, she straightened up and breezed away toward a small crowd that was about to break into a fight.

You watched Momo easily tackle a barbaric man down to the floor, without drawing her sword. The crowd of onlookers quickly dispersed as Momo stood up with one of her feet on the man’s stomach, looking challenging for anyone daring to cause more trouble in her land. She caught your eye and grinned, giving you a goofy thumbs-up before changing back to her serious face.

You chuckled, grabbing an apple and the champagne, before slipping to the darker corners of the kingdom undetected. Momo working here was a blessing in disguise, she gave you the chance to get to investigate the labyrinth before the challenge.

.

.

.

.

As you navigated down a murky corridor, the air thick with the scent of age and dampness, you descended what felt like more than two flights of stairs, each step creaking under your weight. At last, you stumbled upon a wooden door, its frame nearly crumbling with decay from years of neglect and exposure to the elements.

Pushing it open with a groan, you were surprised to find yourself greeted by a scene of unexpected beauty. The garden beyond was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting ethereal shadows upon the grounds. Dewdrops reflected the moonlight like diamonds on the grass, their gentle shimmering a stark contrast to the dark, cloudy skies looming over the labyrinth just meters away.

The metal walls that surrounded the garden appeared rusted and weather-beaten, their once sturdy facade now worn and rusted. You couldn't help but wonder if they were enough to keep people out, let alone the rumored monsters said to lurk within the labyrinth's depths.

Taking another swig of your champagne, you wandered around the walls, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the still night air. Peering into the swirling mist, you strained your ears and thought you heard faint roars emanating from within. Yet, in the eerie silence of the garden, you couldn't be certain if they were real or merely figments of your imagination, born from the ominous atmosphere that surrounded you.

"Guess I won’t be getting anything out of this tonight," you thought, sighing as you took a seat on one of the forlorn benches near the metal bars.

Taking an apple out of your coat pocket, you polished it on your sleeve. Just as you were about to bite into it, an eerily soft voice echoed from the shadows looming over the corner.

"Can I have some?" A hooded figure emerged, causing you to leap to your feet.

Despite your assassin training, you hadn’t heard her approach.

The figure slowly removed her hood, revealing long, almost white blonde hair that seemed to reflect the moonlight. She was around the same age as you, her face perfectly sculpted but haunted, with dark circles under her eyes.

“I mean no harm,” she raised her ghostly pale arms in surrender.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion but nodded nonetheless, despite the blood in your body pumping in a fight. It was obvious that this being was not entirely human, but you were in no condition to fight a monstrous being before the competition. The stone was what was important, so you were willing to do anything to avoid conflicts before the challenge.

The girl walked slowly towards you, her posture and grace as if she came from royalty, and sat down on the bench. She looked up at your standing figure expectantly, giving you a soft smile as you finally sat down.

You reached into your coat to pull out a small knife, and the girl immediately flinched. But you simply used the knife to peel the apple, before slicing a piece and putting it onto her hand.

“Thanks,” she muttered, before nibbling on the piece of apple.

You took a good look at the girl. She was thin, too thin, as if she would be blown away by the wind.

“You can call me Luna,” she said finally, still nibbling on the small piece of apple.

You gave a small chuckle at the irony of her name. She did indeed look like the moon goddess herself.

“What’s so funny?”

You shrugged, continuing to slice more pieces of apples for the girl. You saw her glaring at you from the corner of your eye, letting out huffs of frustration when you never said anything.

“Normally when someone introduces themselves to you, you do the same in return,” she said annoyed. Her annoyance made her seem human, and this eased your nerves a bit.

“I’m Hwang Y/N,” your lips twitched, trying not to smile at the way Luna chewed on the apple angrily.

“I like your name,” she said grudgingly, reaching over to grab your champagne without asking.

“What about it?” It wasn’t often that someone didn’t flinch when they heard your name.

“Hwang,” Luna explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, before chugging down half the bottle of champagne.

“It means bright, right? Like the sunrise.”

“Yeah, and?” you asked, reaching over to grab the champagne from her hands. “Stop stealing my shit.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the sun,” she muttered. “Wish I could see the sunrise.”

“Why can’t you?” you asked, turning around to look at her.

Luna ignored your question, instead turning her body towards you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” she raised her big eyes to look at you, her eyes suddenly glowing a faint crimson in the honey-brown hues.

She was definitely not fully human.

You shivered slightly, both in fear and something else, attraction. No, it must be because you felt sorry for her. The poor girl seemed to not have access to much food.

“Thought I could get some clues here before the challenge,” you said honestly.

“Are you looking to win the princess over, too?” she asked with a hint of bitterness in her tone. “To control her as if she was a puppet?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

You hesitated, knowing it wasn’t smart to share anything with strangers, you knew that. But there was something about this girl that you couldn’t seem to put a finger on, it was as if her aura could power all your feelings. You couldn’t do anything but tell her the truth. It was as if she casted a spell on you, her glowing eyes controlling every move.

“I need that stone. I need to get that wish so that I can save my sister.”

Luna’s eyes softened slightly, the glowing red fading and turning back to the original brown color. You felt your body instantly relax.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s sick. She’s been sick for a few months and there’s nothing the doctors can do. Time is running out so I have to hurry.”

The image of your little sister lying in bed, her once lively face now sunken and yellow, her eyes devoid of their usual spark, sends a shiver down your spine. The very thought grips your heart. It was her condition that drove you to show your true identity and take part in this dumb challenge, revealing yourself to the public eye, and relinquishing your assassin status. Now that everyone knew what you looked like, it was inevitable that a bounty would be put on your head.

“I’m sorry,” Luna said, her voice gentle.

Her hand raised slightly as if she wanted to hold yours in comfort but thought better of it.

You shook your head and looked down at your knees. You couldn’t let anyone sense your weakness.

You heard Luna get up from you, this time finally being able to hear her movements.

“I hope you win, Y/N,” she said, her voice soothing, passing warmth throughout your body, instantly making you feel better.

She put a small black object in your lap, a compass.

You looked up and found her walking backward towards the metal walls, a smile playing on her lips. She looked younger when she smiled, innocent even.

"Take the path on the far right, then follow my compass," she instructed, her voice echoing faintly as she effortlessly passed through the metal bars and vanished into the dark mist.

"I'll lead you the way."

You shivered, utterly enchanted and spooked by that humanlike being.

After a moment, you finally shifted your attention to the compass in your hands. It was an exquisite piece, adorned with golden rings and silver arrows.

You flipped to the back of the compass, and there, engraved in elegant wording:

Minatozaki Sana

Next chapter

Been wanting to get this out to you guys for a while now! It's quite different from what I usually write, so let me know if you want to see more of this.

[artdolliewishes]

Something I’ve seen a few times before is the idea that, to contrast the NRC crew, the students of RSA have nice facades but are secretly condescending, arrogant, rude, etc. The reasoning for this is pretty solid: the students at NRC are villains with secret good sides, so the students of RSA should be heroes with secret bad sides.

But the problem with this - at least in my humble opinion - is that it’s just wrong in a major way.

There’s no doubt that the NRC students, especially the Dorm Leaders, are complex characters. They’re people who have been greatly hurt in some fundamental way and have thus developed a hardened exterior, shunning away that softer part of themself.

And after their respective chapters, each character is allowed to become better, make better choices, do nicer things, and just improve as people in general.

But let’s not kid ourselves, these characters are still fucking assholes.

When we finished Chapter 2, Leona rude and lazy nature didn’t instantly melt away to reveal that he was a sweetheart this entire time, he was still rude and lazy even if he was slowly improving. And the same goes for Azul’s scheming nature and Riddle’s strictness, etc; they aren’t as one dimensional as their facade would suggest, but it’s not like their bad attitude is skin deep.

So, why can’t the RSA students be genuinely kind if the NRC students are genuinely mean?

But on the other hand, it also doesn’t make sense for them to be one dimensional, non complex heroes who’ve never don’t anything wrong in their life. So I have a solution.

If the NRC students are arrogant little dickheads who have been hurt in the past in a way that shaped them into what they are now, then maybe the RSA students are genuinely kind people who have been crushed by the weight of expectations and the pressure to be “perfect.”

They can’t be rude, or selfish, or mean, or anything that would paint them as being less than the golden child the world expects them to be. They are good people at heart, but they’ve suppressed their “bad” side like how the NRC gang has suppressed their good side.

Anyways, these are just my thoughts.

[spoiledmilks]

“He noticed something as he walked through the complex of chaos…”

GLITCHED OUT explained in detail (finally)

After the events of fnaf 6 william found himself in a different place..almost different world

A vengeful spirit with the nickname Golden Freddy has made a complex of chaos and eternal suffering made of his own nightmares

It was a complicated place full of different areas, each one looking very similiar to different locations that were close to william

Each area has its own set of animatronics that are powered by remnant by goldie to attack and kill william over and over

William’s plan is to destroy all of them and get out of this nightmare complex using the remnant

Except for one that is

Rockstar foxy was made with more care, a bit more of remnant, unlike the other animatronics he’s able to respawn, he was made specifically by goldie to annoy william and to stop him in whatever he’s doing

Foxy tho is like an oblivious naive child that knows only joy and is way too innocent and pure for this world

William has tried many many times to destroy foxy but he always came back (doesnt that ring a bell)

William is convinced that foxy knows all about him but foxy is convinced that will is just some poor unfortunate soul and is doing his best to help him out

After a while william actually lets foxy hang around

Now about the glitchiness

Each time he dies he glitches/respawns back at his safepoint, the office

He has died so many times it has affected his appearence

With more remnant he collects he’s more able to sorta “control” the glitchiness

At some point he might be able to glitch out! ;)

[silken-moonlight]

Older Alpha and Human Waitress / Moodboard and playlist

Desmond Lyall

We already had an introductory post for Desmond; however, I wanted to write a little more about him. Desmond's family had been...tense. His father was a man of sternness and coldness; weakness was not tolerated in his house. In the werewolf community, this is viewed as toxic Alpha family behavior. His mother was no different. With both his parents alphas and raised with the same mindset, it had been a difficult environment to grow up in. Desmond was the golden child; he was expected to be perfect. He managed to become a somewhat good person still. His younger brother, William, was not as fortunate. He suffered under the reign of his parents. Back then, Desmond had viewed him as weak. Like his parents, he was disappointed in his brother and his rebellious behavior.

Nowadays, Desmond has matured as a person. Being the Alpha of his pack has made him view things differently. Many challenges and changes have occurred for him over the years. He has come to put his own needs behind everyone else's. He occasionally takes time for himself, but that has become rare. He overworks himself to the point that his beta, Isaac, is concerned about his physical and mental health. He has changed, becoming awfully similar to his father, and he hates that but cannot help it. He is complex and has so many layers that somebody would need to free him. He himself would never find peace on his own; somebody has to guide him.

His greatest and deepest desire is to feel cared for. He wants to be weak, even if he could never admit that. He yearns for something, something that is just his own. He yearns for love and warmth, gentle touches and silly moments. These songs shall display him a little better

The reader/ you

Disclaimer: This is how I imagined the reader. How you imagine them or if you imagine yourself is your Business. This is just 'my' view, please don't see this as Set thing how you should imagine the reader/you.

A little background for the reader: She still lives with her parents, who are both chronically ill. Her parents need her in their lives, and the reader loves her parents; however, their care and constant needs can be suffocating. Sometimes she feels like there is no way out, and she feels guilty for thinking this, since she would do anything for her family. She has lost many friends over this, and the friends that have stayed use her as a free therapist. She has sometimes lost her sense of self, and a deep exhaustion has settled into her. While she always tries to be happy and carefree, sometimes her exhaustion and sadness peak through. She loves to care for others, but it will be her eventual end if no one begins to take care of her.

She is happiest outdoors with her dogs, loving nature and books. She goes skinny-dipping in any river or pond she finds, unafraid of any animals and wanting to befriend every animal in her path. A wild child, as her parents call her, she is difficult to catch. A soul pure and good, her energy is addictive, but many drain her energy.

A/N: This was a lot of fun to do. I love making stuff like this. I hope you liked it too! I thought at first to make a pintrest Board and Spotify playlist. Though I find this solutiin a bit better. How did you like it?