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wickedscribbles · 3 years

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Come What May, Chapter Four

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: brief description of panic attack -- there is a warning in the body of the chapter as well! Don’t worry.

Tags: main character has social anxiety, teaching a class with Obi-Wan, sexual tension, lightsaber fights, Obi-Wan continues with the cute pet names, some teacher/student fantasizing, Obi-Wan is still a massive tease, fucking in a supply closet

Word Count: 6.9 K

It's infuriating to know that Obi-Wan is back in the Temple, but that he's too busy to see you. Between Council meetings that drag for hours, more private gatherings with members of the Senate to discuss what the next move in the war should be, and allowing the poor man time to rest, Obi-Wan has been home for more than a week. You've barely caught more than a glimpse of him. Still, it's nice to have him present in your mind.

You know he's still in the Temple every day you wake up to a glowing good morning, love, his happiness to be near you radiating like sunshine even if you haven't had the time to see one another. It’s not safe to talk back and forth, but sometimes if one of you is particularly bored, you’ll trade a few sentences.

Master Yoda is on a roll today. Send help. Starting to think backwards I am.

Pity you I do.

Very funny, petal.

Then he’d be gone again, fading out before anyone got suspicious. The sudden absence hurts, but not as much as having him gone from the Temple entirely. At least here, you can feel him. You know he's safe.

In contrast to Obi-Wan's breakneck schedule, you've had almost nothing to do. It's full-on spring on Coruscant now, the warmth driving cold and flu season away. You have no colicky little ones in the creche to fuss over, no sick Padawans. The most you might see are some old Masters who need their aching bones tended to, or a quick training accident that needs mended. You haven't shipped out to a war-stricken planet in a while, either. It's strange to have downtime. Strange and frustrating, knowing Obi-Wan is nearby but still not close enough. Having a spare moment between all the illness and injuries is a good thing, and you're grateful. If only you weren't so restless.

-----

It’s rare -- almost impossible -- that you get to take the entire day off, but that’s exactly what you’ve been told to do. The medbay sits empty except for a couple of droids, instructed to deep clean while there are no patients. Even Master Allie appears to be taking it easy; her Force is calm as she bids you goodbye. She insists that if anyone turns up in need of healing, she and Barriss Offee would be on call to take care of it. You bow to her and leave, excited about what possibilities this could open up.

The first thing you do is check for Obi-Wan. Of course, he’s preoccupied. You duck out after feeling the level of concentration he’s exerting at something-or-other; it’s mixed with frustration and you don’t want to distract him. Like you, he’s getting more and more impatient with how busy the Council has kept him. You try not to let yourself be disappointed; it would be too lucky for both of you to be free at the same time, on the same day. All you can do is hope that you can find the time to be together before he has to leave again.

With your schedule more open than ever, you head to your favorite courtyard. The least you can do is soak up some Coruscanti sunshine. But only a quarter of an hour passes before you’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps on cobblestones, headed fast in your direction. Around the corner, scattering the kiros birds, comes a youngling you recognize. It's Gil Graven, a spitfire of a youngling you see in the medbay far more than others his age. He drives his minders crazy with his recklessness, but he’s a sweetheart. Even if you swear you have him admitted once a month for sprains and cuts.

Even now he trips and topples, would have earned the Halls of Healing their first visitor of the day, if you hadn't righted him with a quick pull of the Force.

"Easy, Gil. Where's the fire?" You smile, watching the kid tug his too-large tunic back onto his shoulder.

"Fire? There's no fire, miss. I was looking for you!"

His eyes go round with confusion, cheeks red from running. You forgot how literal younglings could be.

"I meant -- wait, looking for me? What's wrong? Who's hurt?"

Kriff. You should've known taking a day off would backfire. Something had happened in the fifteen minutes you’d had your butt parked in the grass. You get to your feet, gripping the pouch of emergency bacta on your belt.

"Oh! It's not a healer thing." Gil bounces in place, thinking. "But you're needed in the training halls! And they told me to find you quick!"

"Gil, calm down for a minute, okay?" The training halls? Why on Ryloth were you wanted there? "Who told you?"

He shrugs, unhelpful. “I dunno. I’ve never met ‘im before. But he told me to go get the Knight from the Healing Halls ‘cause no one’s been admitted today, and you’d be able to help him.”

You’re still not sure if this is a healer problem, or a matter of simple confusion. Gil’s got a touch of what healers like to call bouncy brain. Sweet as he is, he talks at lightspeed and can’t seem to concentrate if he isn’t moving. There’s a real possibility that he’s got something mixed up here. Still, it’s not as if you’re doing anything else. The Force must have decided that you need to keep busy.

You decide to see what he’s going on about. “Okay, Gil. Lead the way.”

-----

Lingering outside one of the larger training rooms is Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, who smiles when he spots Gil leading you over by the hand.

“There you are!” He crouches down to greet your youngling escort, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Gil, I am so glad you found our friend. You may go now.”

Gil bows to him, his Force blooming under the praise. “Yes, Master.” You both watch as he takes off the way he came, speeding back up to a run.

“No running!” You scold after him. He barely slows before he’s out of sight.

Master Ki-Adi-Mundi chuckles. “That one reminds me of our own Anakin Skywalker.”

You nod, seeing the resemblance. Anakin is five years your junior, but he was still notorious when you were Padawans. Always turning up where he shouldn’t have been, Obi-Wan always three steps behind. Nothing’s changed, Obi-Wan often tells you.

“Master,” you say, hearing the low buzz of voices coming from the room you’re standing in front of. “Gil said you needed me? Is someone injured?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh stars, no.” Master Ki-Adi shakes his head, looking sheepish. “But I was rather hoping you’d be able to help me with a little problem I’ve run into.”

“Of course.” Okay, now I'm suspicious.

Ki-Adi tugs the end of his beard. “My squadron is being called out to fight on very short notice, I’m afraid. I was meant to teach today’s lesson, and was lucky enough to find a substitute for myself on short notice. But my instruction partner is leaving as well, and I haven’t yet found them a suitable replacement.”

“O-oh,” you hear yourself squeak.

Karabast. He wants you to teach? Your stomach drops somewhere near your ankles. This is so far from what you were expecting when Gil led you here. You can’t do this. You can’t.

Ki-Adi must feel your panic, because he continues quickly. “Don’t fret, my dear! My substitute is a very capable instructor. Follow his lead, and everything will be fine.” He claps a hand on your shoulder, turning away.

“Thank you again -- and now I really must be off.” And with that, he’s gone, walking at a brisk pace down the corridor.

CW starts here!

You’re so anxious that you feel like you’re about to be sick. You’ve done many things on behalf of the Council, often without knowing what they even were, but this? You can’t do this. There’s too many people. You lean against the doorframe, struggling for breath.

What’s the matter? Obi-Wan’s concern comes rushing in, and you’re grateful you have him to latch onto, to focus on.

Someone's asked a favor of me -- and I don’t think I can do it. You’re gripping your saber hilt too tight, the metal biting into your hand.

Please try to calm down. Find somewhere to sit and meditate, collect yourself --

Your anxiety is affecting him, making his own thoughts race even if he doesn’t know the cause. This sometimes happens. You’ve jolted awake in the middle of the night more than once with nightmares that weren’t your own, or had thoughts that didn’t make sense ‘til you realized they weren’t yours.

I can’t.

Why not?

You don’t reply. You have to go in there. Master Ki-Adi said that he was already late. Remembering your breathing, you focus on a count of four in through your nose, then hold the breath for a count of seven. When you exhale, you count to eight. After repeating the exercise several times, you can think straight. It’s not the more in-depth meditation Obi-Wan would have preferred, but it helps. All you can do is hope that the instructor carries much of the class, as Master Ki-Adi said he would.

When it feels like you’ve released much of your fear and uncertainty to the Force, you open the door and step in.

CW ends here!

Immediately, twenty pairs of curious Padawan eyes move to follow you, and you cringe. They all sit cross-legged on the padded floor. Three of the walls are lined with mirrors, the better for students to see fighting forms and sparring matches from every angle. On a side wall, a flimsi depicting each form of saber combat stretches the length of the room, cut off only by the supply closet where training accessories are stored. You’ve been in this room and its adjacent siblings dozens of times. But all that isn’t as important to you as the instructor, who’s turned to see why the room’s gone quiet.

It’s Obi-Wan.

Standing bare-foot on one of room-length training mats, in the middle of handing out sparring sticks to the class, he freezes when you lock eyes.

Oh, he says, equal parts shock and happiness.

Yeah.

I say this with the greatest respect, darling -- why did Master Ki-Adi send you?

Because the Healing Halls are completely empty. Also to torture me. You grimace, joining him at the front of the room. He nods to you in greeting, as if you aren’t having a mental conversation.

“Knight Courtee. Glad to see you could join us.”

“I apologize, Master. It was short notice for me, as well.” You bow to him.

Is this what you were so worked up about? They’re only Padawans. They don’t bite -- much.

Once the group realizes that you’re the other instructor that Obi-Wan’s been waiting for, the chatter resumes. They stop ogling you. From the looks of the group, they’re all in the late teens, and bubbling over with energy. Right in the middle of Padawan and Knight, but with all the arrogance to think they’re already the latter. Away from their Masters in a group like this, they tend to get far rowdier than they would otherwise. Each has a lightsaber strapped to their belt.

“Run me through the lesson?” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Quiet!” Obi-Wan demands over his shoulder, and you jump. The loudest cluster of Padawans instantly falls silent behind you.

Sorry, he thinks at you. I’m starting to see why Ki-Adi jumped on the first ship leaving the system.

“Amina, lose the gum. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Yes, now. Navo, do I have to move you to the other side of the room? Don’t think I won’t.”

Mumbles of yes, Master, break out before he turns back to you, satisfied. You don’t smile but know he feels your amusement.

“We’ll be running through some more advanced katas,” Obi-Wan says. “Then we’ll break them into pairs and focus on the saber technique of each pair. At the end of the lesson, you and I will give a demonstration on a chosen form. Perhaps more than one, if the class requests it.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit, thinking back to your own group Padawan lessons. You’d dreaded the paired sparring sessions, having your own form broken down and scrutinized. In the end, though, it had improved your skills. Being able to do the same for this group would be an honor. This is a big piece of being a Jedi, after all; skills passed down from Master to Knight to Padawan.

“It isn’t. Just don’t let them smell your fear,” he grins. “Let’s get started.”

As noisy as the group is, you can tell they’re genuinely excited to be in a session led by Master Kenobi. And Obi-Wan really knows how to lead the room. While you stand stiffly off to the side, nodding whenever he finishes saying something and hoping you don’t look like an idiot, he uses the space. He explains the lesson to them as he explained it to you, then asks if anyone has any questions.

The girl who’d been caught with gum earlier, Amina, raises her hand. Her other hand is busy twirling her long Padawan braid, like she can’t help but fidget with it. “Um, Master Kenobi, why are we using sparring sticks? We’ve had lightsabers for a while now.”

A murmur of agreement washes through the crowd, and Obi-Wan smirks.

“Good question, Padawan. Everyone, close your eyes and reach through the Force. Do you feel how tumultuous the energy in this room is? How excitable? If any one of you lit your saber in this room, I fear someone would lose a limb. And that’s something that Knight Courtee can’t fix for you. So we play it safe.”

Another hand punctuates the air, from the very front of the crowd. This Padawan seems younger than the rest, with hair that sticks up everywhere and eyes focused only on Obi-Wan. He starts speaking before he can be called on.

“All due respect, Master,” he says, in a way that makes you think that he’s used to sharing unorthodox opinions. The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth quirks up as he fights a smile, and you feel him think of Anakin.

“Why are we here? We’re fighting a war. Many of us have already seen combat alongside our Masters.” He lowers his eyes to the mat, afraid he’s gone too far. When his fellow Padawans start nodding and whispering, he tugs on the end of his nerf-tail, as if unsure of what to do.

Obi-Wan takes a moment to consider this question, hand going to his beard as it often does when he’s thinking.

“I appreciate your honesty, Caleb. And you’re correct. It might seem...redundant to spend your time here when even now fellow Jedi are fighting real battles.”

He pauses, thinking of how to continue. The Padawans are hanging onto his every word, the room silent. “But that’s why it’s so important to refine your technique when we can spare the time, in a secure environment. It will make you stronger when you face a real opponent. It might even save your life. Does that make sense?”

Wow, you think to yourself. He’d handled that beautifully. Even though Caleb had spoken out of turn, Obi-Wan hadn’t belittled him or made the teen feel bad about what was an honest and important question. He’d taken the time to consider the Padawan’s feelings, and had given him an equally honest answer, not something to pacify him. It takes you back to your own Padawan training, when Obi-Wan had been your instructor.

“Yes, Master,” Caleb ducks his head, looking relieved. “thank you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes search the room. “Anything else?”

After a pause, another hand goes up, toward the back.

“Millu?” You love that he knows everyone by name. Some Padawans turn around to reveal a burly Mon Calamari boy.

“Yeah.” His bright yellow eyes dart over to you. “Uh, speaking of Knight Courtee. Why are you teaching us? I thought you were just, like, a healer.” There’s no real malice in his tone, more like an off-handed curiosity, but Obi-wan stiffens.

Luckily you think of something to say before he can open his mouth. It wouldn’t look good for him to get upset defending you.

“That’s an excellent question, Millu, thank you.” You shoot him a smile, and you swear his scales darken with a blush.

“Being a Jedi with healing abilities does not mean that you get to neglect other aspects of your training. On the contrary, your connection with the Force must be powerful at all times. Healing will swamp you physically and emotionally, so you must keep both body and mind strong to withstand it.”

Your smile widens. “Of course, if you’re asking if you can best me in a fight, we’ll see how you match up during paired spars. Sound good?”

Laughter breaks out, and Millu blushes even darker before muttering, “Sure,” and looking away. Even if it seemed like he was questioning your ability to teach them (as you yourself are), you’re grateful the interaction’s lightened the mood.

Nicely done, says Obi-Wan.

“Very good,” he says aloud, clapping his hands together. “Now if we’re done heckling Knight Courtee, let’s begin with some stretches, please.”

------

Obi-Wan was right, you think, walking around the room. This...isn’t bad at all. You walk from pair to pair, taking in the angle of their weapon, how they hold their bodies, making minor corrections and leaving comments as you go. They look up when you come by, eager to see what you’re going to say to them. It’s much easier to interact with the Padawans on this smaller scale, and you find yourself joking with them, smiling. After a while, they even start asking for you, looking to see if you can demonstrate a move or if they’re holding the training stick the correct way. They aren’t scary at all -- just excitable kids who want to learn.

I’m sorry, Obi-Wan was what?

Looking up, you see Obi-Wan grinning across the room, demonstrating his own correction. In the middle of all this excitable teen Force energy, it’s easy for you to have a conversation and go unnoticed.

You were right. I like this.

And you’re good at it; they adore you. You’re going to make a wonderful Master. He shows you a brief image of a happy Padawan trailing behind you, eager to follow wherever you lead. It’s the best feeling, love.

Unexpected emotion rises in your chest at his pure sincerity. He knows how insecure you are about the fact that you’ll soon have your own Padawan to look after, but he doesn’t have a single doubt that you can do it. For the first time, you let yourself think of the situation in a hopeful light. It was a path you never pictured for yourself, but one that you know you have to follow. Obi-Wan makes it look so easy. Anakin, and even Anakin’s Padawan Ahsoka, look at him like he hung the stars. Of course, so do you.

“Last twenty minutes!” Obi-Wan calls over the noise of sparring sticks clacking together. “Take a seat, class.”

The Padawans rush to do as they’re told, everyone clamoring for the best spot to view your spar with Master Kenobi. They go completely silent, waiting for you to join him. A hush even falls over the Force energy in the room, like they’re all holding their breath.

Obi-Wan sinks into a bow when you’re opposite him, one hand on his saber. When you glance down in confusion, he sends a wave of amusement.

I said I didn’t trust the Padawans, darling. Not you.

Not sure if that’s wise. You bow in return, unclipping your saber also. He ignites his blade, the blue glow casting light over all the reflections of the mirrors. Taking a deep breath, trusting the familiar feeling of your own weapon, you ignite your lightsaber. The bright green light shimmers over your hands, crackling with your energy.

You’re surprised at how nervous you are. It’s one thing to watch him from across the room, to be taught by him as a Padawan yourself, but to spar with Obi-Wan as an equal? He’s going to wipe the floor with you.

“What form does Knight Courtee use?” You hear somebody whisper.

“Form five -- she told me.”

“Oooh, really? That’ll be fun to see against Master Kenobi.”

“Shhh!”

Obi-Wan waits until the group is quiet again to ask if you’re ready to start. Your saber hums hot in your hand, a little less controlled than you’d like it.

“Ready as I can be, Master.”

“Then let’s begin.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he’s in your space, much closer than you want him with a lightsaber in hand. You strike out instinctively and he expected that, anticipated it. He was baiting you. Your blade bounces off of his far more harshly than you like, the zyoom echoing through the room. You take a step back, try to calculate an opening. He mirrors you, waiting to react. It takes you longer than it should to realize that he’s shielded the bond up tight, not giving anything away. The only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the crackling of the sabers, each one fueled by its master’s adrenaline.

He keeps his blade held at eye level, and you lunge in for a mid-range attack. Obi-Wan blocks but you keep it coming, getting back into the groove of Djem So after spending so long out of combat. It feels good to have the saber be a part of you, to have it grow lighter as it remembers your touch.

Strike, block, strike, block. You’re working at a breakneck rhythm trying to get through his defenses, but Obi-Wan won’t give an inch. Sweat pours down your temple but still you press, using the Force to try and search for a weak point but finding none. He’s too kriffing fast.

There’s a reason they call him Master of this form. It’s infuriating, the almost lazy way he flicks your lightsaber aside every time, using your energy against you. There’s not a hair out of place on him. Every time you lower your blade, wondering what to do, he simply resets, content to wait again. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows you’re getting tired.

The Padawans are anything but quiet now -- some shouting Get her, Master Kenobi! while others insist that you can hold your own. Your eyes flick over to them once. Some lean forward towards the fight as far as they dare, a few are even on their feet in support.

When Obi-Wan finally tips his saber in retaliation, you barely manage to block, caught off guard at the change from defense to offense. He strikes again, again, again -- each blow more brutal than the last, each one so close to your skin that you can feel his blue saber’s sizzling heat. He’s driving you back against the wall. Despite your best effort, you’re losing ground where you’d previously held it. When you feel your back slam against the wall he was driving you toward, you gasp and fumble a block -- your last move. The blade of Obi-Wan’s saber hovers near your throat, a win.

“And that’s your head,” he says easily. You lower your saber and extinguish the blade, holding your hands up in a show of defeat.

The room erupts.

“Master Kenobi, that was so wizard --”

“Knight Courtee was letting him have it! Did you see --?”

“I wish I could have recorded that for the holo!”

“Settle down,” Obi-Wan says, but he’s smiling. “I’m glad that you all have found this lesson so illuminating.” He bows to you, signalling the end of the match, and you follow suit.

“You’re dismissed,” he says to the room. The declaration is met with mixed reactions; half are glad to be free, half don’t want the lesson to be over yet.

“No need to hang around and help tidy this time. You were such a good group that Knight Courtee and I are glad to take care of it.” It’s traditional for students to stick around after the lesson is done and help roll up the training mats, collect the sparring sticks, and clean the room in any other way that needs it.

That statement really gets them out the door, though several of them whine about him being far cooler than their regular teacher and why can't he teach them all the time?

Once everyone’s filed out, Obi-Wan locks the door behind them. He turns to you with a long sigh, relieved that the loudness of all those teenagers in one place has dispersed.

“Well,” you say. “That’s not how I expected my morning to go.”

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan replies. “I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t see you at all in my time home, yet here we are.”

“Like the Force willed it.”

He beams at that, drawing you tight against him. “C’mere. My bright little instructor.”

You grumble, cheek pressed against his chest. “You flayed me within an inch of my life, Obi-Wan.”

All he does in response to your grumpiness is chuckle, placing warm kisses everywhere he can reach on your face. “Yes. I did.”

“It was embarrassing.”

“I couldn’t exactly go easy on you, could I?”

No, he couldn’t. Everyone knows the extent of Obi-Wan’s skill, and while you aren't untalented with a saber, winning or even overcoming him would be unlikely. You’d fought honestly, and so had he. Anything else would have invoked suspicion.

He takes your silence for the correct answer, then gently pries your cheek from his body.

“Would it help if you got kisses as a consolation prize?” He’s looking at you so fondly, like you’re his favorite thing in the galaxy. You nod, already leaning on your tiptoes to reach.

Obi-Wan hums against your lips, sinking against you like he’s been waiting for this -- because you both have. The kisses stay close-mouthed, but he’s pressing them onto you fast, his hands roaming you urgently. Your bond tells you that he wants to take his time with you, would have each moment stretch out for as long as possible, if he could. He wants to savor you. But arousal is winning out.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling back to brush his nose against yours. “Do you know how much restraint it took not to pin you against the wall and have you, at the end of our fight? To resist sending all the little Padawans away right then?”

You gasp, feeling heat stirring deep in your stomach. The honey-sweetness of his tone contrasts with his words, but he’s just getting started.

“There was such fire in your eyes when we sparred, kitten." Kitten. Yet another pet name to add to your already large collection. This one makes you blush, and you don't miss Obi-Wan's pleased grin. "I had to shut you out so that you wouldn’t get distracted by my, er, distraction.”

His distraction presses up against your leg now, thick and hot. Obi-Wan tugs the end of your braid hard, tilting your head back to expose your neck. You whimper against him, all but letting him hold you up at this point. He loves it -- going to work at once nipping and kissing everywhere he can get to. His breath is heavy on your skin as he ruts against your thigh, trying and failing to bite back his own ecstatic moans.

“We’re alone now,” you choke out, hardly aware enough to string the sentence together. “s-so you can -- do whatever you want with me.”

This makes him pause. “Is that so?” Obi-Wan’s tone is still so light, like you’re having a conversation about what they’re serving in the refectory today, not how badly you want him to fuck you.

“Yes,” you say, embarrassed at how desperate you sound, how easily you melt for him. You can see yourself over his shoulder in the mirrors, and you blush, burying your face.

He laughs a little at your reaction. “What if I want to take you into that supply closet and bend you over?” His hand roams down your body, landing on your crotch. Two fingers rub a strong circle through the material, and you lean into it. “What if I want to take you from behind, make up for all the time we haven’t been together?”

“I’d ask why -- aren’t we already there,” you huff, blinking up at him.

That’s all the answer he needs. In one motion, he grabs you round the middle and hauls you over his shoulder like a sack of meilooruns. Your breath whooshes out, surprise and a lack of air keeping you from forming a sentence as he marches you to the closet as promised. The ground bounces and sways in your vision as you’re jostled -- it’s a strange sensation, being carried. Thankfully, it only lasts a few seconds.

Obi-Wan opens the door and closes it just as quickly once you’re both inside, making you aware of how small, how dark, the space is. You find yourself deposited on the storage bin that the mats are kept in, your legs dangling high in the air. He leans in to kiss you, nothing but hot breath and hungry hands, and you fist your own in the front of his tunic. It spurs him on, and soon his tongue is pressing into your open mouth, exploring every corner.

You moan into him, your fingers going beyond clothes to scratch against his chest. Obi-Wan picks you up again and you lift your legs around his waist, rubbing tight against his cock. He bears your entire weight like it’s nothing, continuing to kiss you as if your legs are planted on the ground. Stars, the strength, the eagerness of him, is overwhelming. His arms are pillars, holding you steady, crossed firm around your back.

"I thought you said," you gasp out, shivering when his tongue flicks out to catch your earlobe, "something about -- bending me over --"

“So eager today,” he says, his voice a tantalizing purr.

“Can you blame me?” you blurt.

"And what does that mean, dearest?"

He already knows what you mean. It’s everywhere in your mind. You can’t hide how you feel when you’ve been this close to him for so long, forbidden to touch him, to even think about it until you’ve reached your breaking point.

Obi-Wan, hands behind his back, patiently watching the Padawans demonstrate their forms. Nodding and sometimes stepping in to correct, placing his hand casually on an arm or leg to shift the balance of their weight. Then the Padawan he’s correcting becomes you, and his touch is no longer innocent. The group is melting away, and his mouth is trailing down your neck, whispering things that have little to do with the kata you’re struggling through.

“Oh,” he chuckles. “I see.”

You bump your head into his shoulder, too embarrassed to answer. As if to reassure you, Obi-Wan sends you an image back.

Both of you in the same training room, but you stand among your fellow Padawans, now all Knights, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot. You don't look that much different from the way you do now, but for the traditional Padawan's hairstyle.

Though you're seeing things from his perspective, the mirrors give him away; Obi-Wan looks younger, too. There are no lines around his eyes here, he holds himself more loosely. Like there isn't a galaxy-wide war. And he's less certain as he flits from student to student, new at this.

"You were always a pleasure to speak to, you know," Obi-Wan tells you, low voice right in your ear. He knows that he's teasing you, knows exactly the effect it's having on your body. You squirm in his tight grip, unable to go anywhere to get away from the softness of his voice.

"Polite and passionate. Made your Master very proud. But…" he trails off, and you shiver, anticipating his next words.

"So anxious whenever you saw me, weren't you?" He muses, fingers flexing on the curve of your ass. "And now I finally understand why."

"Obi-Wan…" you protest, unsure of what you're going to say next but just knowing that you need the teasing to stop. Both mental and physical -- he's hard against your abdomen, almost painful with how tight you're wedged against him.

"Down, love," he says. With effort, you extract your legs from around his waist and plant your feet on the floor, with his hands to guide you. "Turn around."

For a moment, you get excited, thinking that he's done teasing you. Obi-Wan makes quick work of your belt, dropping it to the floor seconds before your pants and underwear. You step out of them, breathing heavily, feeling his chest against your back. There's a clink, and you realize that he's dropped his belt as well, one hand bracing on your shoulder as he fumbles out of his own bottoms.

There's nothing between you now. Obi-Wan's bare dick rubs against your tailbone, leaving a warm dribble of pre-come.

"Now bend forward for me, darling -- that's it --"

You lean on the storage bin, heart thumping a tattoo in your throat. Obi-Wan lines himself up behind you, breath ragged, and sinks inside you in one long push.

"Obi-Wan, oh," you cry out, not expecting how full you'd feel from this angle.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he says, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. His mind is a high buzz of pleasure, looking forward to taking you apart in this new, delicious way.

Then he moves. So, so deep and slow. You let out a broken whine, toes curling. He pauses, holds his breath. Then thrusts again, just as unhurried as the first time, and your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth material of the bin in front of you.

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Do you know, this reminds me of something.”

You groan, not out of pleasure, but because he’s stopped. How? Where and how did he find the restraint to torment you like this? You’re not sure which part of today’s interaction set him off, but you sorely wish that he’d get down to business and fuck you.

“What does it remind you of?” you ask tightly, figuring that playing along will get you where you want to be faster. As if rewarding you, Obi-Wan’s hands come around to find your breasts, teasing your nipples with the barest of touches. Gods if he doesn’t go faster --

He can hear your mind loud and clear, but says nothing, only sending a feeling of amusement back before answering your question.

"Watching you go through katas in this very room. Or, well, the room outside." Obi-Wan presses into your back, finally starting to push into you in a slow but satiating rhythm.

"Mmm," you manage, pressing your lips together hard to avoid reaching an inappropriate volume.

“Do you remember the criticism I had for you, little Padawan? You were so tense. Why was that?” All the while he’s languidly thrusting into you from behind. As if he expects you to form a coherent response.

“I l-liked you,” you stammer out, bracing yourself on the edge of the storage bin.

"Oh? Well, I liked you too. You were a wonderful student."

"That's not what I --" Thank the Maker that it's pitch black in this closet, because your face is burning.

"But for some reason," he continues, enjoying himself, "you always needed correction in solo practice. The other Masters told me, several times, that that was not an issue in their own lessons."

You can only whimper as he bears into you deeper. He knows exactly what he's doing to you. When you place a hand on your stomach, just above your belly button, you can feel him inside you.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Did you need my hands on your body, as desperately as you do now?"

"Yes, Master," you all but sob. "I need, I n-need --"

"Need me to fuck you?" Obi-Wan supplies, voice going rough and breathy. "Need me to wreck you, the way your mind is screaming for it?"

You slam the palm of your hand on the top of the bin, and it makes a hollow thud, sending pain shooting up your arm.

"Obi-Wan, yes! Please, please fuck me, I need it!" You're aware that your words border on incoherence, but not enough to care.

And he doesn't either.

Just as you've reached your limit, so does Obi-Wan. One of his hands grabs your wrist and pins it, hard, while the other squeezes your hip.

"Are you ready?" He pants in your ear, pausing only to nip at your shoulder blade. Already he's fucking you deeper, so good so thick inside you, that you're writhing under his every touch.

"Wanted to do this -- for s-so long --" Obi-Wan gasps out and so do you, the heat of orgasm reaching a crescendo in your thighs as you feel him come apart in your mind.

"Want to come so deep inside you, darling, oh please, please --"

You know that he's barely hanging on, waiting for your permission.

"Gods, Master, yes --" Like you could deny him this, when you want it so desperately too.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he rams into you, shoving you against the bin. It takes everything you have not to scream his name when you come, gripping his arm -- the only part of him you can reach from this angle.

Obi-Wan isn't far behind, moaning loud behind you as your orgasm makes your pussy clamp down even tighter on him.

"Yes, yes, oh my Gods --"

The bond flares up sudden and white-hot between you, carrying the sensation of Obi-Wan's pleasure just as it had that night on Odryn.

"Kriff," you say weakly, clutching his arm like it's the only thing connecting you to the planet.

Sweetheart, I'm there, I'm right there

I know, and I'm -- me too --

Again?

Yes

Oh fuck, fuck -- I'm coming, stars, I'm coming, oh --

You come a second time when Obi-Wan starts to spurt inside you, tears spilling from the intensity of it all. With him this tight against your body, you swear you can feel every hot spurt of come shoot up inside you. Obi-Wan's teeth are caught in the material of your tunic, muffling his shout. It feels like you stand there, taking his come for minutes, as he shudders against you.

When it's over you whimper, leaning against his chest on aftershock-weak legs. Slowly, as if his head is one step behind, Obi-Wan puts his arms around you.

"Stars above, Obi-Wan," you mutter, every coherent thought fucked out of your head. Your brain feels like static, but your body's floating. Pulling out and turning you gently to face him again, Obi-Wan plants a line of soft kisses from your forehead to your mouth. His release runs heavy down your thighs, but there's not much you can do about it here.

"Not tense now, are you?" he says, tracing slow, wet circles over your sensitive clit.

You laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm committed to a scene," Obi-Wan corrects, as if this was all an elaborate game.

You consider saying something along the lines of, I'm going to commit my boot to your rear end if you don't quit it, but think better of it.

Instead you re-dress, wincing at the mess you'll have to tolerate down your crotch and legs until you can get to the nearest fresher. This is the downfall of spontaneous sex. No easy cleanup.

"Next time, would you like to come with me?" Obi-Wan's asking. You snort, buckling your belt back into place.

"Pretty sure I just did. You didn't notice?"

He pauses, then opens the closet door, letting in a blinding slice of light. Though he's dressed, Obi-Wan looks disheveled and wide-eyed still in a way that you always adore.

"That's...no. That's not what I'm talking about, love," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I mean, the next time I have to leave. Come with me. I think we've both come to realize that being apart is painful. And that being together isn't just a physical concept anymore."

His voice has dropped to a near-whisper, but you're hanging on to every word. Though you'd never admit it aloud, this is exactly what you want. To follow him instead of lying awake every night, worrying he won't come back from the last distant system he's shipped away to. You want to be beside him, no matter how rough things are.

You are a Jedi, not a housewife. And frankly, being kept in the Temple while he's away risking his neck, the bond blocked for days or weeks at a time, is torture.

Obi-Wan listens to all this, your outpouring of emotion through the bond you never meant to forge with him. He shows his understanding, his respect, his compassion for you, in return.

"Okay. Okay," he says, more to himself than you. "I'll speak to the Council. Knowing them, it may take some time to get an answer, but --"

You cut him off with a kiss. It doesn't matter. As long as you're together.

#come what may ao3 #wickedscribbles #obi wan smut #ziva courtee #obi wan x you #obi-wan series #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x oc #obi-wan x oc

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heylabodega · 3 years

Note

just read some of your previous posts about dating, and I'm interested to hear your perspective: how do you reconcile daydreaming a future about a crush/upcoming date with trying to be detached enough to not care if it doesn't work out? finding that balance has basically paralyzed me into not dating for my entire life lol

Ha! ha! ha! I don’t know man! No but ok sorry. I really do feel this. I used to be SUCH a romantic daydreamer. The guy I loved lived across the country and I’d listen to that Vampire Weekend song “Campus” while I was lying on the quad between classes and picture him just...showing up? Or I’d listen to “Remedy” by Little Boots (all of my romantic daydreams had/ve very specific and slightly arbitrary soundtracks) and picture moving to New York and dancing to that song in a bar all...sexy I guess? and he’d...happen to also be at that bar? and notice I was beautiful and sexy and grown up? He’d be talking to his friends and then mid sentence notice me, dancing all...I guess I’m committed to ‘sexy’ now...across the room in my one shoulder bodycon dress from H&M and be like Benjamin Bratt in Miss Congeniality taking off his sunglasses like seeing me in a whole new light, beginning the inevitable dominoes to falling in love with me. More recently, a few years ago I decided the most charming thing about me was how good I was at making pancakes (that part might have been correct) and I needed the ingredients and wouldn’t it be so cute if my date went with me to buy them but I decided that pre-date and so halfway through the date when I was like “want to come to the grocery store with me?” he was like, “...ok?” and I was like not committed enough to this manic pixie pancake making girl I’d constructed to be able to hold it up alone and he was not cooperating and it was just awkward and I ended up rushing us out of the Key Foods on Myrtle and later on a second date ignored that same instinct and had bad sex with him.

What is my point? What is my point. I guess it is this: romanticize yourself. Daydream about what a fucking fantasy you are. If you decide *he* (or she or they) is--well, anything if you decide they’re anything before you meet them--you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Not because they’re bad but because you don’t know what they are. There are people I’ve known for 20 years and they’re still revealing new sides of themselves to me. If you decide who anyone is before you get to know them, it’s going to be frustrating for both of you. ExCEPT yourself. Decide who you are. I read something recently, I truly can’t remember where, where the advice asker was like ‘I don’t hate myself but I’ve realized I have trouble deciding who I am because I constantly want to remain open and pliable to whomever my next boyfriend or boss wants me to be’ and I was like hahaha oh no. So if you are anything like me, which we already know you are a little bit cause of the romantic daydreaming, please do consider who you are and obviously that’s fluid and nebulous extremely Angela Chase voice people always say you should be yourself like yourself is this definite thing like a toaster, but think about what you like about yourself or what you don’t like about yourself but you know is yourself and really lock that in.

Open yourself wide open to the possibility of being charmed, of finding someone interesting, of feeling affection. Before you get there, feel as dreamy as you can. Listen to your dreamy songs, put on your softest top, eat a snack. When you get there, ask questions. The more you know about someone, the easier it is to be fond of them. Open yourself to the possibility of being bummed out. What if you thought this was gonna be so fun and bubbly and they were boring? Ok. Huge bummer! But better than the alternative: that you thought all day how flat this was going to be. idk idk I’m sorry if this is wildly unhelpful. Be dreamy, be open to dreaminess, remember that other people are completely separate from you and as real to themselves as you are to yourself, love love love and leave when you’re bored.

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gazingupatthemoon · 3 years

Text

What Is Infinite (2/?)

Found here at ff.net or A03

Summary: It was meant to be just the two of them. But immorality comes with it's own surprises, and Aleksander must bow to the whims of his stubborn wife. Even if it means becoming a father.(Aleksander and Alina, after years and years, are the rulers of Ravka and have a son and daughter. Angst is sure to follow)

Rating: M

Notes: Because I am weak for stories of Alina getting pregnant and bolting afraid of Aleksander's response. But eventually she comes back, and everyone has to deal with being a big immortal and sometimes happy family.

*~*~~*~*~*~*

Mila twirls a lock of black her idly between her fingers, finding it more fascinating at the moment than the droning of her teacher.

Her brother, to be more specific.

Of course she loves Adrik, but she really does not love history lessons. She finds learning to use her powers much more engaging, as well as exercising her body and fighting skills. Maybe if Adirk focused more on Grisha history and not so much everything else, he’d hold her interest more. Papa had smiled at this particular complaint, showing in that non-verbal way of his he agreed, but then pointed out she was the Princess of Ravka, it was important for her to be educated as much as possible.

“Remember,” Adrik suddenly says a bit more loudly. Mila blinks her way back into the classroom, and sees that he is giving her that look. “Your paper is due next week. Please continue to work on it and not leave it to the last moment. Class dismissed.”

Everyone begins to leave, but Mila stays put, knowing Adrik was not dismissing her. She waves at her friends who hover at the doorway, and then with a sigh begins to gather her own books.

“Mila-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get a good sleep last night. That’s why I wasn’t focusing.” The lie comes easily, and without any prior preparation in her head.

Adrik crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re very good at lying, mladshaya sestra, but it’s pointless when it comes to our family.”

A very unfortunate truth. The Morozovas could charm the whole country into believing any falsehood, but when it came to each other it was blunt honesty or nothing. Mila huffs. “So, what? Am I in trouble?”

Adrik’s eyes narrow. “Maybe if this was the first time but you’re always giving the bare minimum amount of effort in this class. You don’t do the assignments, you openly mock the class in general.”

“It’s just boring history-”

“It’s important,” He interrupts. “If you ever want to rule on day you have to know our world’s story and learn from it. To not repeat mistakes of the past.”

A humorless laugh bursts from Mila’s lips. “That’s funny. You know I’m never going to sit on that throne.”

Adrik resists the urge to pinch his nose. At fourteen, Mila is the pure definition of a bratty teenager. Being a princess just adds to that attitude. She always did as she wished, and didn’t care who it offended. Even with their parents she was beginning to toe the line a bit too much. But with him, she had forgone all sense of discretion. They were at odds with each other way too much, not even over her studies. It could be about decorum at public events, the way she talked down to other people, or how she too liberally used her Summoning.

(Adrik is always aware of her Summoning. Always).

Even now he could see a faint shine on his sister’s fingers.

“Calm down,” He says with a tone that nearly mirrors their father. He looks pointedly at her hands.

But Mila is not to be perturbed. If anything, her hands grow even brighter at the command.

She may be a prodigy when it came to her Summoning, but Mila was still a child. And Adirk has both years and experience on her. His fingers do the quickest twitch before shadows swallow her hands and extinguish the light there with a meaningful show of force. He pushes down on them, to the point where Mila’s body even lurches forward.

“Adrik!” She gasps, both in surprise and indignation.

But he doesn’t show her any repentance. “Do not threaten me in that way. Ever.” Adirk isn’t like this. He knows he’s not. This cold, authoritative figure is his father, not him. But Mila isn’t giving him any choice. Part of him blames their parents. He’s seen them use their Summoning on each other an inappropriate amount of times, so something in Mila’s head must had deemed it acceptable to do herself. But Alina and Aleksander have a history that Mila isn’t exactly privy to yet, and a relationship that is a far cry from “healthy”.

Adrik wasn’t sure how to make her understand that yet, though.

Feeling his own anger begin to rise, Adrik turns his back to the fuming girl and takes in a shuddering breath. “Go on to your next class. We can talk about this later.”

What left there was to talk about, he isn’t sure. Mila was either going to try or she wasn’t. And he was sure this little battle of power between them would make her all the more difficult.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aleksander flicks through papers on the latest yields in the eastern fields when Alina enters their chambers.

Her face is tight, and her eyes looking at him in a way that already has a headache forming in under his temples.

“Yes, love?” He inquires, pausing his reading. She’d only get all the more angry if he gave her half of his attention.

“Your daughter,” Alina unhelpfully supplies.

His daughter, of course, whenever Mila did something troublesome. Which she seems to be doing at increasingly alarming rate now a days. Aleksander has to admit, he is finding himself at a loss of how to handle her. He’s never raised a child before, never expected to, so it’s a skill he never bothered giving any care to. Even the Grisha children in the Little Palace received minimal interaction with him, just the very in frequent visit during lessons or a Grisha empowered speech now and then. Any unruliness was dealt with by their instructors.

Aleksander could command soldiers, but his daughter was something else entirely.

“Alina, we’ve talked about this. I can’t keep her on a leash every day to keep her out of trouble.”

“It’s because you’re so hands off that she’s acting like this,” Alina argues. “She knows she can get away this nonsense.”

“Admitting you have no control over her, then?” Aleksander shoots back, knowing the comment to be wholly unhelpful.

Alina seethes but dutifully chooses to not go down that route with him. “She skipped her classes today to go into town with her friends.”

Aleksander pauses at that. Of course, Mila shouldn’t be skipping lessons, but to do that and make it worse by risking her safety in town? That was another level of idiotic and unacceptable.

And he most certainly has a headache now.

“I’ll talk to her.”

“It has to be more than that.”

“Then what do you suggest, Alina? Should we reconsider the leash idea? If you recall your first days here, I wasn’t too adept at keeping you under my thumb either.”

The admission just embroils the conversation. “Yes, how is it that you manipulating and lying to me didn’t work? Such a mystery after all these years.”

Aleksander flings the papers in his hand onto the table and falls back in his seat. “If you’re just here to argue with me, could we schedule it for another time where I can properly give you my attention?”

“I’m here to discuss our daughter who is going down a very reckless path.”

“She’s a child, a teenager, they all act out.”

“She is a Princess of Ravka and our daughter. She is not just any child.”

Alina has a point there, and Aleksander’s silence only verifies it.

“Adrik is concerned as well,” Alina continues, her voice going lower with the weight of the conversation. “He says things have grown tense between them.”

“Because Adrik is weary of her and she senses it,” Aleksander states. “You don’t do too well of hiding it from time to time, either.”

Alina balks at that. “I’m not weary of her…I’m concerned.”

“I’m sure there is little difference between the two in her eyes. Ever since that day, you’ve all treated her as if she could explode at any moment.”

“Your daughter did the Cut at five years old, Aleksander. She doesn’t even remember doing it. She doesn’t remember beheading someone.”

“Something you should be thankful for, then. Better she forgets then have to relive it in her mind for the years to come.”

She throws up her hands in exasperation. “This is never going to get easier if we’re not on the same page.”

“Perhaps you need to be more compromising,” Aleksander suggests with a shrug. “You got greedy raising Adrik all on your own, and now you have to deal with my say when it comes to Mila.”

“And what is your say, moi tsar? A talk every time she steps out of line? That’s your show of great parenting?”

Alina doesn’t wait for a response. She turns and stomps out of the room, her white hair the last thing he sees before the door slams shut. And Aleskander always thought Alina would be the only one that could ever be a true thorn in his side.

He had never hated his immortality so often since becoming a father.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The dinner table is understandably very quiet that night.

The royal family silently stews in their own frustrations, and let nothing but the scrapes of their utensil fill the void.

Adrik heard what Mila had done today, though it hadn’t been him to inform the Queen of her daughter’s disappearance. Adrik tried to never include his parents when it came to squabbles between he and his sister, but this situation had been unavoidable. Even if no one approached Alina with Mila’s offense, Adrik would have.

Now all there is to wait for is her punishment. By the looks on both their parents’ faces, Adrik knew it was going to be bad. But hopefully it would finally knock some sense into Mila, and stop her from continuing this stupidity.

“The trip is Os Kervo is set for next Thursday,” Aleskander announces as their plates begin to thin with food. “Construction on their new port finally ended and they’d be honored by the presence of the royal family to give their blessing to it. It’s been sometime since we have been there as well, they are due to be reminded what their rules look like.”

Alina dabs a napkin at the corner of her mouth. “We all will be going?”

“No,” Aleksander answer promptly. “Just Adrik and I.”

The first strike then.

Adrik glances at Mila to see the fork has paused midway to her mouth. Out of the whole family, Mila loves Os Kervo. She enjoys the sea, the ships, the bustling market, and the generally more pleasant weather it has compared to East Ravka. Whenever a trip was made there, Mila was always brought along. Always.

She lowers her fork slowly, then chances a look at her father.

The Darkling is already staring at her, waiting for some kind of response.

“Is that my punishment, then?” She asks after a beat. Her tone is low, but not as contrite as it should be.

“Punishment for what, moya doch?”

It seems Aleksander is in a mood tonight. He is going to make this difficult for Mila, and not just by simply taking a trip from her. Adrik glances to his mother but she sits there as stone cold as her husband.

Mila hesitates. “I’m sure you know what I did-”

“I asked you a question,” Aleksander interrupts.

Mila’s mouth snaps shut. She breathes in and out of her nose, willing herself to be calm. She could argue with Adrik all she wanted, even her mother to a certain degree, but she knew better then to test her father’s fury. “I didn’t go to my lessons.”

Aleksander continues to stare at her.

“And…I went to town.”

“And was this a smart decision for you to make?”

Saints, she hates when he talks down to her like this. She was young, but not a child, and obviously, she knew what she had done had been wrong. But what choice did she have? How would it have looked to her friends had she told them no, she couldn’t go because it would upset her parents. Obviously, it would upset anyone’s parents, she shouldn’t act special. There were enough jokes at Mila’s expense of being the Princess and gracious allowances she’s given.

Mila should just help this end as soon as possible and yet, as everyone starred at her, she felt the need to defend herself. “It was perfectly safe. We’re all Grisha. And…I’ve never gone to town with my friends! Whenever I leave this place its only with one of you. How do you think that looks?”

“If you think I’m interested in the opinion of your friends, you are sorely mistaken,” Aleksander warns. “There are rules for a reason, Mila. You’re not just any Grisha. You are the Princess and a Sun Summoner. There are bounties on your heard in every single country.”

“I don’t want to be treated differently-”

“But you are different,” Alina choose this moment to interject, her voice a shade lighter than her husband’s. Adrik knows why, though. After learning the truth of who he was, Alina had told him everything of her past. Of how alone and different she felt most her life, both as an orphan and then as the lone Sun Summoner. In this way, she offers her daughter some sympathy. But only in this way. “I understand your need to fit in, Mila, and in some instances, you will, but in others you will not. You cannot.”

The scrap of kindness falls on Mila’s deaf ears. “I should be able to make those decisions myself, not you all.”

“Perhaps if you didn’t act like a spoiled brat, we would consider that.”

Even Adrik flinches at Alesksander’s jab. He so infrequently scolds his daughter that when the occasion does arise, it’s uncomfortable to witness.

It hurts Mila deeper than she cares to admit hearing her father call her that. The rational thing to do would be to should shut up and apologize, before it got worse, but now not only is she hurt, but embarrassed. “You’d never let me do what I want no matter how I acted!” She exclaims hotly. “You control everyone and everything!”

“Mila,” Alina warns.

“You know he does! He even controls you! And you-you let him get away with it!”

Adrik notices the shadows of the room begin to blacken and crawl towards the ceiling. Even the floor begins to grow into a black pool. “That’s enough, Mila,” He hisses, and goes to reach for her hand now trembling with paleness as it grips the edge of the table.

But she’s too far gone now to be reined in. “I can take care of myself,” She continues. “Someone did grab me in town, you know! Right in the marketplace and tried to drag me into some alley. And I took care of it. I protected myself. I am capable-”

The room explodes with shadows. So many, so quickly, that it’s like a tornado that flings everything off the table and onto the floor. Glass shatters, food and liquid audibly splatter, and even the chairs squeak with movement. Adrik instinctively calls upon his own Summoning to ground himself down, and almost reaches out to do the same for Mila when a force stronger than his own blocks him.

Just as quickly as it begins, it ends. The storm of darkness recedes into nothingness, leaving in it’s a wake a destroyed dining room and a family cursed with too much power.

Mila looks irrevocably stricken, clinging to the arms of her chair with her eyes squeezed shut. Adrik isn’t sure what he looks like, surprised, maybe, that his father went so far but also a part of him knowing that of course Aleksander is capable of this. This and much, much worse.

Alina looks sadly at her daughter’s trembling form. She feels the heat of Aleksander’s rage next to her, knows that display of power he just showed may have been on the side of unnecessary, but she had wanted him to do more. She supposes at this point in life she should know Aleksander would appease her but only in his way.

But that right now is not important.

“What do you mean you handled it?” Alina asks very quietly.

Mila is still trembling but opens her eyes. Grey, like her father, but Alina has never seen such fear there. “W-What?”

“You heard your mother,” Aleksander snarls.

Mila flinches into her seat. “I-I Summoned and made him let me go.”

“How did you Summon?”

Mila looks between her parents, and then to Adrik as if he somehow could save her from the awful mess she has created. But now there is fear on his face as well. Not of what just happened. But of her.

But she can’t see the horrid memories replaying in his head. Of another time when a man grabbed Mila. Of when instinct, not rational, kicked in, and awful mistakes were made. Adrik failed his sister then, and he can’t help but feel he’s done the same now.

“I used the Cut.”

Again, there’s Dimitri’s body falling to the floor.

Again, there the unexpected show of light.

The suspended moment in time when it slid across the man’s neck, as smooth as water.

Alina wants to be as broken as Adirk in this moment, but she can’t. She has to be a mother now. She has to handle this. “Did you kill him, Mila?”

The younger girl looks confused at the question. Of what exactly, Alina is not sure. When she doesn’t answer right away, she practically feels Aleksander about to unleash another verbal lashing. “Mila, did you kill him?” Alina prompts again before he gets the chance to.

“I…I don’t know. I did it and ran.”

And yet again, Mila comes out the situation with little recognition of what’s she done.

Adrik wonders if a dead body will turn up soon from the streets of their kingdom.

Alina closes her eyes, as if that would make this all go away.

“You’re not to leave the castle,” Aleksander begins. No arguments. No explanations. The time has passed for that. “You will take your lessons privately here. You, who have been blessed with so much, to squander it so. You want to be in charge of your life and yet you use your power so carelessly and don’t even know if you killed a man or not. Is that what Ravka will say of their Princess? That she is a fool who murders without thought?”

She doesn’t even know, Adrik thinks miserably. She doesn’t even know she’s already become that.

“You will embarrass this family no more. If you step out of line one more time, I will ship you to the Winter Palace and leave you there till you learn your place. And do not that as an idle threat. Me not seeing your face for the next fifty years means as little to me as if it was a mere day.”

A tear leaks out of Mila’s eyes at his words. At the truth her father has revealed and struck at her like a slap in the face.

“Now get out.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Adrik fiddles with the pocket watch his father had gifted him for his 21st birthday. The first gift he ever received from the man. It wasn’t new, but instead an antique that had been owned by some old King of Ravka.

(Adrik has been simultaneously pleased and resentful that Aleksander somehow knew he’d prefer this piece of history than a fancy new one).

The carriage jolts as it passes over a bump, making Adrik start. He looks across him to see Aleksander starring at the window, hands folded neatly on his lap.

They’ve been riding for a couple hours now, heading to Os Kervo.

It’s been a week since that disaster of a dinner. A week of Mila being a ghost, only appearing for dinners which her mother would not relent on her being absent for. But she only spoke when asked a question, and kept her eyes on her plate or lap. Adrik had seen her more, as per her private lessons, and her mother had attempted some one-on-one conversations.

Aleksander hadn’t sought her out once.

“How is Mila doing?” He asks, as if sensing where his mind has wandered to.

“Fine,” Adrik answers honestly. It’s the only word to describe her really. Despite her silence, Mila hasn’t shown any concerning behavior. She’s paying attention to her lessons, which is an improvement, and hasn’t unleashed any of her usual attitude.

“Did you believe I was harsh on her?”

Adrik is surprised by the question. Their relationship has certainly improved over the years, but there were still some lines drawn in the sand between them. One being that his father never usually asked him his opinion on decisions he’s made. The Darkling was not one to be questioned, let alone invite criticism. No, if this ever happened, it was surely a test of some sort. This might very well be one, for all Adrik knew.

“I think something had to be done,” He answers carefully, wondering was going on in the King’s head. His gaze still remained pointed out the window.

“And what I did?”

Adrik has went over the dinner many times in his head this past week. What went wrong, where it could have been stopped. How out of control everything became with those choice words. It wasn’t so much the punishment Adrik disagreed with. Confined to the castle was the least that could have been done considering what Mila is guilty of. What he had only ever questioned was how it happened that night, the words and actions taken to come to that conclusion. And the way Aleksander had broken a part of Mila’s heart with his other very real threat.

He wonders if Alina said something to prompt this. He wonders if he should even continue it. But then he remembers his sister’s face, can’t help but feel-know-that Mila is not an evil being. She’s just a young girl, confused over who she is and her place in this world. “You forget we are not as old as you and Mama,” Adrik begins calmly. No need for Aleksander to misunderstand him when they were going on a trip alone together for the foreseeable future. “That we’re still….more human, than immortal. Mila deserved to be punished but for you to tell her not seeing her for fifty years means little to nothing to you and that you would actually send her away for that time, it was cruel.”

Aleksander processes this with silence. Then he angles his head towards his son, considering him.

“You grew up not knowing what you are. She did. She can’t be afforded the time or patience you were.”

“He’s usually always insufferably right,” Alina had told him once of his father. “But where he lacks is the humanity that tells him even though something is true, doesn’t not mean it is good.”

Adrik is a grown man now, not the child that had been both afraid and hateful of the man who gave him life. A part of him hesitates to be honest with him, old habits and all, but if Aleksander wanted his opinion then he would give it. “She is a fourteen-year-old girl whose father told her his love for her is conditional. There are other ways to teach her of immortality.”

Aleksander again grows quiet.

“And…” Adrik licks at his lips. “She grew up with your love, I did not. You hurt her in a way you couldn’t do to me. I was prepared for your coldness, she wasn’t.”

A shadow flickers in an on the floor between them. A shadow of a passing tree? A Summoned one?

“You believe my love for her is conditional?”

Adrik flexes his fingers. He really doesn’t want to engage in this line of questioning. He did not want to guess his father’s feelings, on whether they existed or were genuine. He didn’t want to examine his and Mila’s relationship when his own was so pitiful in comparison. Adrik believed for so long he didn’t need his father’s affection. But not that he’s had a taste for it, that unfair resentment the never seemed to shake towards Mila’s dug a little deeper.

Feeling again like the lonely teenage boy brought to the palace as a prince who did not have the king’s love, he answers noncommittally. “I don’t know. You certainly care for her.”

“It is hard, at my age, to truly love things. Knowing they will not last.”

“But she will,” Adrik points out.

“Perhaps I have to grow used to her, the way I did you.”

That shocks Adrik into silence. It’s not exactly a “I love you” but its damn well close in his opinion. Who knew if Aleksander would ever gift him with anything fonder. “And are you? Used to me?” He can’t help but ask. He needs to be sure. He would not get begrudgingly pleased over a game.

Though he doesn’t smile, Aleksander looks amused at the question. “As a horse is to a fly.”

Oh, well…

Was that a joke?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“He hates me,” Mila whispers into her pillow.

Alina hears her all the same and smooths her hair down her back. “He doesn’t.”

“You hate me,” She continues to mumble.

“I don’t.”

Mila lifts her head up a fraction, if only to look at her mother as if she had three heads. “How can you say that with what happened?”

“Mila, you made mistakes, some larger than others, and lashed out as us. It was not going to be a pleasant conversation no matter what happened.”

“He said he’d send me away.”

“I would never let him.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact he would do it if he could.”

Alina blew out a puff of exasperated air. Mila dropped her head back into the pillow, the child she truly was simmering to the surface. Alina tried to recall the time she had been her age. If she had ever been so…lost. But her past is now only made of landmark events in her life, with the little things in between lost to eternity. There was Mal, then the Light, and then Aleksander. So much Aleksander. She had been 17 when she first met him, three years older the Mila now. How mature she had thought she had been. How foolish.

“Your father is going to be the most difficult man you’ll ever meet in your life. He is far from perfect, none of us are. He does not react the way he should sometimes. I should know. He and on were not on the same page as we are now.”

Mila slightly shifts her head, and peeks up at her mother under a curtain of hair. “What do you mean?”

“He hurt me too,” Alina beings carefully. Very carefully. It was her decision to not tell Mila of she and Aleksander’s past till she was older and mature enough to try and understand all the complicated and dark parts of it. Alina only felt more confident in the decision considering Mila’s volatile nature as of late. Aleskadner didn’t seem to mind, not caring if Alina chose to even reveal it at all. “When I was younger, close to your age in fact, he hurt me very deeply, Mila.”

“But…” Mila presses up on her elbows, looking very confused. “Papa loves you more than anything.”

“He does,” Alina agrees, and reaches forward to swipe the hair from her face. “But he didn’t in the beginning. He didn’t for quite some time, actually. And I the same.”

Sometimes she still wonders. Sometimes.

Mila shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I promise, darling, I will tell you the whole story one day. But for now, just know, he may be old but that doesn’t make him always right. Immortality is a very hard burden to bear, especially when you’ve been alone for as long as your father has. It makes him forget how to treat others. Even those he loves.”

Alina can’t help but hope it is enough. What more can she say without explaining the rest of it? It would do no one any good, least of all Mila, to reveal Aleksander’s villainous past now. If anything, it might make this newly formed chasm between she and him worse.

“Mila,” Alina opts to change the course of the conversation before she can dwell on it any further. “What you did to that man, it can’t happen again.”

Her grey eyes blink widely at the switch of topic. “I-he was going to hurt me, Mama.”

“And you must of course defend yourself. But the Cut must be a last resort. It is a technique that’s too powerful, and only meant to kill. That is why our family are the only ones able to do it. There are other ways to protect yourself. Others ways to not kill.”

Mila slowly lowers herself back onto her stomach, but at least does not hide her face this time. “I didn’t mean to…kill him. I just-I got scared. I only ran because I was so afraid, Mama. I didn’t even go back to my friends. I came right back here. I promise.”

Oh, how differently the conversation could have gone the other day had Mila not been so full of pride and hurt. And how much of a relief it is to hear Mila’s pained confession. She’d been consumed all week with dark thoughts that Mila was becoming callous with her skills and drunk off the power of her immortality and Sun Summoning. That she was a child given gifts no child should know how to deal with at that age. But no, thank the Saints, Mila was just that. A child who got scared and made a mistake. And all those years ago with Dimitiri, it must have been a mistake. She had been too young, too innocent. She had been hurt and afraid then as well, and saw her brother attacked to top it off.

Mila is being ruled by her emotions and that, Alina can work with.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In truth, Aleksander didn’t quite like traveling far from home for such ridiculous frivolities as blessing a new port. Pompous, in his opinion. Unnecessary.

But people, bored with their short lives, needed such reprieves. To celebrate innate things as to fill their days with some reason to be happy. To drink, and dance, and enjoy what time they had left.

And the people do need to be reminded who is their ruler every now and then.

Another truth, Aleksander needed the space frim his wife and daughter. How odd, in this whole annoyingly unnecessary mess, Adrik would be his confidant. He’d been the only one not to resent him for his behavior at dinner or feel the need to give him the cold shoulder. Alina had wanted him to act, so he did. It was not his fault if she didn’t like how he did it.

Though Adrik had been honest that day in the carriage, he didn’t use his words like weapons. Not like he or Alina would. No, he had been patient and simply wanted Aleksander to just hear what he had to say. No ulterior motives or desire to harm. It was charming, in a way. He is an adult, technically, but still a child in Aleksander’s eyes. A child who still has delusions of being honest and good.

Despite all that, what Adrik said did hold some weight. Mila didn’t understand yet the burden of who they were yet, and Aleksander…well, perhaps he didn’t know how to properly handle her. The whole mess was reminding him all too much of his past with Alina. How much he failed at trying to connect with her and make her see what their power and immorality meant. Like mother, like daughter indeed.

As the carriage made its way into the courtyard of the Grand Palace, Aleksander twirled around the gift in his hand. A wooden box, thin and long with a necklace of sea glass and pearls inside. It wasn’t a gift, as punished children should not receive gifts, but an olive branch. Not a frivolous purchase but an acquisition that had purpose behind it.

It took years for he and Alina to finally come to peace with each other. He wasn’t in the mindset to allow the same to happen between he and Mila.

Adrik hid a smile as he eyed the gift one last time before hopping out of the carriage. He extended many olive branches with his son this trip as well. Let him closer than Aleksander had originally planned, and gave him kernels of “fatherly” attention much more liberally than either of them were used to.

Perhaps he was feeling lonely without Alina. More disturbed than he’d admit over Mila. Maybe more accepting of the fact Adrik was his son every passing day.

Maybe he was just bored. Who truly knows.

Alina is pulling away from a hug with Adirk when he sees her. White hair long and braided, face still holding onto the youth and beauty well past her true age. She takes his breath away every time he sees her. Every damn time. It’s been almost two weeks, and their goodbye had been less than pleasant. But she turns to him without any ire in her gaze now, and actually smiles.

“My Queen,” He greets, stopping before her.

“My King,” She dutifully replies. They stare at each other, devouring the other’s images with roaming eyes.

Adrik scoffs at the not so subtle standoff, and makes his way into the castle.

Alina dips her head to his hands. “A present for me?”

“Sorry, love, no. But if you are in the mood for one, I’m sure I could find something for you in my luggage. I believe it’s being brought up to our rooms as we speak.”

“Hm,” Alina takes a calculated step forward, brushing a hand against the lapels of his kefta. “Perhaps I could be swayed to go and retrieve it with you. But should I be jealous?”

“Not at all,” he grins, dipping his head down. “But I believe I should take care of this first. Then I shall shower you with gifts all night.”

A smile breaks across her face and she kills the last bit of distance between them with a deep kiss. Aleksander groans against the plunge of Alina’s tongue, and resists slamming her against the side of the carriage and taking her right then and there.

He is very happy two weeks seems to be the time to quell his wife’s anger.

Alina is pulling away all too quickly, and takes swift step backwards as Aleksander reaches to pull her back. “Go attend to your business, my King. I’ll be waiting.”

“Perhaps you’ll actually be there when I come back this time.” A very old, and very bad joke.

Alina rolls her eyes and turns toward the doors. She pauses one last moment, though, and looks at him over her shoulder. “I know what it feels like to have to have a heart broken by you, Aleksander. Please take care with her.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aleksander give two quick raps to the door of Mila’s quarters.

He knows she will answer, not because she wants to but because duty demands it. He is her father and King, and no doors will ever remain shut to him.

But no, he had to banish such grandiose thoughts right now. He simply needed to be a father, intent on mending a break between he and his daughter. Simple enough.

The door creaked open and Mila peeked her head out, looking as if she had just woken up. Her eyes widen slightly seeing him, and she fumbles to open the door all the way while simultaneously straightening her back.

“I-uh, good morning,” She breathes, patting down her hair and drawing her robe tighter to herself. Perhaps not just waking up then, but getting ready for a bath. “I mean, welcome back.”

Aleksander nods his head in return. “May I come in?”

The request visibly rattles her, as her eyes widen and her teeth bite into her lower lip. She nods jerkily, regardless, and backs into her room. It’s immaculately kept, as usual, as opposed to her brother’s much messier quarters. It’s the reminiscent of the room Alina had first occupied in the Little Palace. Sophisticated furniture fit for a Queen and décor bathed in bright and soft colors. Her pale pink curtains are swaying softly in with the morning breeze, every window wide open to let in the sun.

Mila is attempting to be calm and collected, but her fingers keep fiddling with her robe’s belt and her body bouncing on the heels of her feet. Nervous compulsions that had plagued her when she had been younger. Not at fourteen. Not in front of her father.

And here she was.

Aleksander is leisurely walking around her room, as if he hadn’t been in it for some time. She supposes he hasn’t, even before he had stopped talking to her. During that whole…mess, she had become very private with her space and belongings, and more often than not locked her door then let it hang open.

When he stops to examine the belongings on her vanity, Mila can bear the silence no more. “Was it a good trip?” The question, riddled by her nerves, comes out as a squeak.

Aleksander absently picks up a hair brush. “It served its purpose.”

“Oh,” She doesn’t like this side of her father. Had seen it enough times aimed at member of court, a soldier, even the rare occasion of someone in her family (those interactions always ended bad). When he makes you feel so small, so off kilter, as he saunters around without a care in the world. Like he doesn’t care about you.

The thought makes Mila more sad than nervous now, and the conversation she had with her mother a couple days ago comes back to her. Alina assured her that Aleksander still loved her, that the fault with his emotions lied with him, not her, but it was still hard to believe. As a fourteen-year-old, she shouldn’t have to be the one that sort that out.

She didn’t want to. She just wanted her father to show her he loved her.

“Your lessons?” Aleksander turns toward her, and eyebrows raised.

Mila holds back a frown and even worse, a couple tears, and she looks over his shoulder to a picture of painted flowers, a rose bush with tangled vines crawling up a tree. “Going well. Attending them all and keeping up with my grades.”

He nods his head. “Good to hear.”

Mila keeps starring at the flowers, feeling her cheeks grow hotter and hotter. Oh Saints, she is going to cry. She is. She can’t stand this treatment anymore. Not this cruel casualness. The still ugly truth that he loved her so little that he would send her away.

Why was he here? What did he want? To further rub salt in the wound? She had purposefully not gone to greet him and Adirk upon their return because she figured Aleksander wouldn’t want to see her. He made that plainly clear the week before he left. Why was he torturing her so?

“Oh, moya solnishka,” Fingers tenderly swipe over her cheeks, now sticky with wetness. Mila bleaks blurrily against the tears to look up into her father’s suddenly very close face. His grey eyes are not cold, but soft, simmering with the affection he had always shown her. “No need to cry.”

“I’m sorry, Papa,” Mila sobs and jerks forward, burying her face in his chest. Keftas aren’t exactly known for their comfort, but it smells like her Papa, and it’s warm, so it’s perfect right now. She rubs against the material till it scratches her skin, but she doesn’t care, because Aleksander’s arms are enveloping her in a hug, and his chin comes to rest comfortably atop her head.

“Shh,” He continues to soothe over and over as she cries and cries. His hand beings to rub circles into her back, and for some reason that brings on a new wave of tears. She was wrong, he does care. Of course, he cares. He had been angry, is all, and so had she. They were going to be fine, they were going to be great, it was-oh! Suddenly, a ball of warmth so strong blossoms in her stomach, and unfurls with such a force it takes Mila’s breath away. She feels the heat coming out of every pour in her body, and pulls away enough to see she’s glowing, light pouring out from her skin and cascading the room in striking brightness.

It would blind any other normal human being, but the Darkling gazes at her without the slightest wince.

“There she is,” Aleksander murmurs with a smile. The first smile he’s graced her with one in so long.

Mila can’t help but smile back, feeling so…alive.

But then Aleksander pulls back and her light slowly dims till it is nothing but her bare skin again.

He reaches out to reveal a box in his hand, thin and wooden with simple decorations carved on it. “For you, love.”

Had he not just embraced her, or smiled at her, Mila would have assumed the offering was a trick. A test, of some sort, as her father was so often fond of doing. Starring at the box, Mila knows that if this isn’t just an innocent gesture, she was undoubtedly going to fail. Still, she reaches forward and takes it tentatively form her hands, then undoes the metal clasp with a delicate touch.

Inside is a beautiful necklace, a long, sparkling braided silver chain with pearls and pieces of sea glass interwoven throughout it. It shines at with her every movement and continues to glimmer even as she keeps it completely still. “It’s…beautiful,” Mila whispers, feeling a bit awed by it. She is the Princess of Ravka, she has seen and even worn the most glamorous and beautiful pieces of jewels the world could produce. But this, in her hands, seems the most precious of all. Because it is hers, and no one else’s, not an antique passed down by Queens before. And because her father had given it, had thought of her when he bought it, and delivered it with his own hands.

Another lone tear sneaks down her face.

With his long, elegant fingers, Aleksander plucks the necklace from its cerulean colored cushioning. “As you are, moya doch.” He steps behind her and with a gentle swipe of her hair, begins to clasp it around her neck.

Mila feels the whispers of that powerful light again, but it recedes when her father again steps away.

“I am sorry, Papa-”

“I know. We’ll talk of it no longer. Continue up with your studies here for the month, and then we can discuss you returning to classes.”

There is nothing to do but beam and nod her head enthusiastically in agreement.

“No more leaving the castle grounds, Mila. No more trouble or this rebellious nature anymore. You will act as you were born to be. Princess of Ravka and the daughter of the Shadow and Sun Summoner.”

Darkling and Sankta. Two equals, yet opposite. Constantly pulling towards each other and inevitable pushing away.

What inkling of normalcy did a product of that bond hope to have?

“Yes, Papa, I promise. I’ll be perfect.” Even as the word passes her lips, Alina’s own voice echo’s in her ears: “He is far from perfect, none of us are.” Perhaps she wasn’t, Mila mused, but she would try to be. She would spend the rest of her immortality trying. “And,” She continues, knowing it would be best to completely clear the air out now between them. “About that man. In the marketplace. I am sorry about it, Papa. Really I am. I was talking to Mama about it and…I know it was wrong. I do. I was afraid and didn’t react right. I will not use the Cut again, ever. I promise.”

Mila’s heart drops when Aleksander’s lip tug downward. But why? How had that been the wrong this to say? It had made her mother happy, it had even made her forgive her! Had she forgotten something? Not said sorry enough times?

“Do not make that promise, Mila,” Aleksander states with the finality of his station. “The Cut is our gift, and we do not hide our power from the world.”

“But…but Mama said-”

“Your mother,” He interjects smoothly, “Has some different ideas on the subject, I am aware. What you need to understand, is that your mother has always had a kind heart, and has always wanted to believe in the good in people. Most importantly, herself. And now, her children.”

Though she is following along, Mila can’t help but feel this conversation is too big for her understanding. That her father is trying to tell her something without actually saying. That it’s going against Alina had said, and is making her afraid.

Aleksander cups the bottom of Mila’s chin and angles it up to face him. “She wants many things, your mother. But remember Mila, the problem with wanting is that it makes us weak. And we are not weak, are we?”

Mila stares uncertainly into her father’s eyes, and answers as she knows she should, “No, we are not.”

“That man put his hands on you,” He continues, his gaze never wavering. “You do not apologize for defending yourself.”

But she had killed him, Mila wants to protest. Or at least, maybe she did. Either way, was that not a good thing? Alina had told her there are others way to protect herself. It didn’t have to be the Cut-

Aleksander tuts her chin. “What you need to learn, love, is patience. Precision. The control of your power and having it bend to you, not the other way around. That, we have all the time in the world to learn.”

Mila nods her head, willing to do anything her father wanted of her.

#darklina #the darkling #alina starkov #alarkling #grishaverse #shadow and bone #what is infinite

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nissakii · 3 years

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Scent. a Haikyu!! Fanfiction pt.33

[want to read all chapters right now? Our fanfictions get updated every monday on our blog, click here to continue reading!]

I knew the day would come.

I mean if we’re being honest here, I had been thinking of how this day would play out since the last time I was in this room.

Not once.

Not twice.

The thought process behind this entire ordeal had been more than extensive, and now that it was actually time for it to happen… I felt more than lost.

It wasn’t helpful that I felt extremely aware of myself and my body today, every single scent I exuded ranged from cold to excited and traveled all the way back to anxious. I wasn’t really good at detecting scents myself, but with Sugawara’s help and a little more mindfulness I could even check the burnt sugar scent wafting off of me.

There was another huge deal today.

I had been reminded of it since this morning every time I felt a tingling sensation on my back, where I could feel the constricting fabric of my bra cutting into me.

I may have blushed more than usual today, but I played it off well and no one suspected anything since the weather was scorching hot anyways.

Mikoto is blushing? Nothing new here!

Grumbling as I thought of who was responsible for me wearing such underwear today, I cursed Atsumu’s name in my head as I realised that more than just one person will see me like this today.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?

I kept my face as still as possible as the mental breakdown rained down on me and I shifted on the all too familiar stool wearing only a white blouse as I had already taken off my skirt.

Before this day could roll in, I had talked with Shiro and Asami about it who were both of almost no help in this situation.

“Oho! That’s sexy oh my god! I still don’t like anyone touching my cousin though”, Shiro had stated and Asami only grinned while looking at me.

“Make sure to tell them if you’re uncomfortable, and if anyone does I’ll gut them like a fish”, she squinted and pressed her lips into a weird smile, “and feel free to send pics”.

Both of them had endured a pillow to the face from me.

Entirely unhelpful.

And then came another person.

When Atsumu always approached me first I felt really happy, although his teasing nature was annoying it was refreshing to have a new acquaintance and it never got boring with him. Bokuto had told me that he was a little bummed out after the fumbled game against the sparrows, so I was glad I could help cheer him up.

It was still a bit weird that he suddenly came very close to me, but he never gave me the impression that he wanted anything more than a casual friendship, so I was happy to converse with him. No matter how nice that started off, I did feel he sometimes came a little too close, but it all came to a big conclusion when he found out about this dreaded day.

“Well, yer wearing a matching set right?”

“What?!”, I immediately took a step back and was left speechless to which he only chuckled.

“No offense, but I mean everyone’s gonna see ya anyways. So ya should make a good impression”.

So here I sat.

On a stool in the middle of students and a tutor would soon see more than they should, and me in a pink lace matching set.

It wasn’t even the fact that everyone could see me, I was aware that this class was very discreet and there were other girls who had to do the same, but it was the young man who was crouched right before me about to examine my whole body that made me break into a nervous sweat.

I took off my blouse and placed it on the table next to me and closed my eyes for a brief moment. The blood was rushing through my veins and pumping into my heart that thrummed so loudly in my ears I could barely hear anything. As I opened my eyes again, all I could see was the intense stare of two caramel coloured eyes ready to drill right into me.

Startled, I immediately looked down but as the tutor told him to start, I had to at least watch his hands slowly move towards me.

He was extremely close to me.

Even just crouching next to me left him huge around me, his chest almost touching my side as he held his hands out to start touching my neck.

My blush worsened, and I couldn’t help a tiny squeal as his calloused fingers brushed over my shoulders.

His hands didn’t retract at my reaction, but he reached for my eyes and leaned forwards a little to whisper something in my ears.

“I’ll be quick about it”

His voice was incredibly husky, and my face flushed even more as I nodded as his fingers trailed over my collarbones, which made me twitch.

“I didn’t press that hard?”, he questioned me and shook my head.

“Ah, I- I uh got injured there so it’s weird”, I stammered out.

Wow. Mikoto come on! Where is your pride?

Apparently, out of the damn window, because he placed his entire palm directly over my chest to continue the palpations and the scent of coffee flared up immediately, intermingling with mine.

His scent didn’t smell stressed though…

Oikawa had moved his hand away from my chest, but for a millisecond his fingers grazed over the lace on the top of the cup and I gasped.

His hand hovered over it, twitching once before he took a very long breath in and out.

“Can you move your arm a little?”, he asked with nothing more than a faint whisper and I complied quickly, the focus in his gaze resembling the one he held when he was taking notes or talking about important exercises in the lab.

It should’ve made me feel more comfortable, at least he’s not being a pervert, but the fact that he is so focused made me more aware that I was actually half-naked in front of him.

Goosebumps covered my entire body as he touched my solar plexus, which in turn made him clear his throat.

There was something so incredibly calm yet still nerve wracking about this.

To the average student watching, this was merely an omega who was a little anxious and an alpha who took his time, but nothing serious.

Me on the other hand, I could feel more than just a routine checkup.

His fingers all over my body. his body warmth radiating from him that I had already felt when I examined him, strands of his hair tickling me as he moved around me, the faint yet hoarse whisper of his voice as he alerted me or instructed me to move around.

It was all too much for my frail heart, I felt like I was about to faint.

When his fingers stopped touching me, a sigh of relief escaped me finally. As much as this situation seemed to stretch endlessly, my erratically beating heart slowed down a little. My eyes found the floor and stayed there as I waited for Misaki’s cue to stop.

“Alright then! That was very well done Oikawa”

Yes. Well done, now stop touching me!

“As we learned there are different tissues and textures to check in the human body right? We had mentioned lymph nodes last time, what else?”

Hurry up! Hurry up!

Another voice piped up, but I couldn’t see who it was as my eyes were still glued to my dangling feet.

“Fluid in the lungs and lumps that could indicate masses in the body?”

“Well done Yachi! So, since we are on the subject of lumps, Oikawa please continue”.

“Right”, he cleared his throat and as if it was all in slowmotion, his hands moved towards my belly.

Continue?

My heart resumed its previous unhealthy pace as I realised what was happening. In my panic, I looked to the side where Misaki focused thoroughly on Oikawa��s work and I caught the sight of my skirt neatly folded on the table.

Right, my skirt. I had to take it off.

How could I forget?!

Maybe it was due to my head getting all fuzzy because I had been touched all over, but how could I forget that he would do a *full* body exam?

My soul threatened to leave my body at once, while Oikawa had already crouched down completely, almost sitting on the floor as his head was level head with the stool I was sitting on. From this angle I could not see his face, especially as he looked down to my feet that still swayed in the air.

For a second, my breath caught in my throat.

Normally, the examination would just continue from the solar plexus to the abdomen and cross the pelvis before moving to the legs. The confusion of his approach made me calm down for a second as it didn’t feel too weird when his hands prodded at my calves.

“Is that okay?”, his voice was gentle but resonated deeply in his chest and I was sure only I could hear it as he spoke extremely softly.

He checked for my well being as if I was his patient right?

My throat constricted so I just nodded, hoping he would see my answer and not demanding a verbal one. He craned his neck back to look at me quickly and I nodded again, only for him to nod to himself and get back to work.

“Good”

My legs shook for a second and I bit down on my lip hard to not make any embarrassing noise. It didn’t matter if he started with my feet instead of my pelvis, for a second I was relieved by his approach but it didn’t matter.

A strange man is touching me at places I have never let anyone touch.

I didn’t mind physical contact at all. Actually, I often cling to people and hug them as well as they tend to gravitate towards ruffling my hair or pressing their leg against mine if they sat next to me. I was so used to having my cheeks squished that I barely felt the touch anymore, it’s nothing new to me.

But this?

I have never in my life felt something like this.

And of course it had to be Oikawa, I was sure that in his mind he felt the most smug for me behaving like this.

Time flew, and he traveled over my knees to my lower thighs and I had to admit to myself that at least he was very quick and considerate in how he touched me.

Of course Mikoto, this is a medical procedure. Although it feels weird and intimate and private, it’s something that doctors do daily.

It’s something he will do daily.

Instinctively, I pressed my legs together as I thought about that for a moment.

That feels weird.

“Mikoto?”

Hearing my name called from below me made me gasp in shock as I was dragged out of my thoughts to find myself staring at Oikawa who had a hand on my thighs that were fiercely pressed together.

“Can you open your legs please? I’ll be fast”

Please Lord. Take me to you now.

Maybe there would just suddenly be an alarm that the school is starting to burn down? Or Misaki would help me out of my misery because the period was over? Or what about a hole that could open up underneath me and just swallow me whole?

“Y-yes”, my voice was more than hoarse, it was basically the sound of a dog whistle as it came out of my throat. I clasped my hand over my mouth and felt a rush of cold fingers ghost over the top part of my thighs as I slowly opened them.

Mom, I am so sorry.

He was right though, before I could think too much about his finger touching dangerously close to my panties, he had already taken a step back and moved towards the table with my clothes to bring me my skirt.

Not uttering a word, I swiftly threw my blouse on and practically jumped inside my skirt to finally cover myself and rush to the chair that was empty next to the girl called Yachi.

“Wow Mikoto, you’re really b-brave!”, she mumbled and as I looked at her she was blushing so hard I was afraid her face would explode.

“Thanks”, I pushed out as I continued to bounce my leg hoping for Misak to just end this class without any more commentary.

I looked at the baby blue skirt covering my thighs.

Even with this on I felt naked.

The rest of the lesson luckily was just Misaki explaining more about the importance of self checking for lumps in your body, but I couldn’t quite focus anyway as much as I tried.

My eyes trailed around the room without really seeing anything until I heard the bell ring.

Salvation. Finally.

I stood up and started to move towards the exit of the auditorium, before anything else could happen, but before I could someone faintly touched my shoulder.

I turned around to look at Yachi smiling at me.

“So, how are you holding up?”, she anxiously smiled and somehow that comforted me. To talk to someone after all of this embarrassment felt a little relieving.

“I’m fine, a little nervous but fine, what about you?”, I asked her as we walked towards the exit.

“Well uh, uhm I’m good but that’s not what I meant”, she fumbled with her hair, “Uh I meant like what you’re going to do now?”

Huh? What does she mean?

“I’m sorry?”

At that moment, Oikawa walked past me and only kept his eyes on me for a moment before he looked at the door and squinted his eyes. I followed his gaze and found none other than Atsumu standing there with Asami both of their eyes comically enlarged as they looked at Oikawa and then me.

Huh?

Asami darted towards me in an instant holding my shoulders and seemingly taking a whiff of my scent. Her face changed immediately, and then she started rubbing her wrists all over my shoulders and neck which just reminded me of what happened only moments ago.

“Okay I get it you’re protective, now stop touching me you weirdo”, I laughed off my genuine discomfort as she looked at me with eyes that told more than words.

“Mikoto this is not safe”, she merely grumbled and looked back to Oikawa as they exchanged a knowing look.

“What?”

“You entirely smell like he owns you”.

Oh.

I looked up at Oikawa who only had a dark expression on his face, and then caught Atsumu who held the framing of the door as if his life depended on it.

OH.

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volleyball-dontknowher · 4 years

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congrats on 1.3k babie!!! you super deserve it!!! your writing is immaculate!!! can i request kenma + asking you out on a date and the actual date? hihi im just so whipped for this man <33 thanks babes!!!

AWWW YOU ARE SO SWEET!!! YOU ARE IMMACULATE!!!!! I went a little crazy with this one and wrote over 1.8k because I just needed this

Kenma + Asking you on a date + the date

He was so nervous, sweaty palms, shaky legs and butterflies flying around so rampant in his stomach that he felt like he might lose his lunch. Kenma had talked to you countless times before, you were friends on your switch’s and played games together all the time, but this, this was different. He couldn’t find it within him to even go up and say hi to you like normal, hell, it took Kuroo pushing him into the classroom as he walked by for him top even muster up the courage to do that. When you saw him you gave him that smile, that damn smile, the one that made his cheeks flush with a soft pink and his ears heat up as his heart began to race. He must have liked you for a long time because for as long as he can remember this was his reaction to seeing you, but he only realized recently and was embarrassed to say the least. He sat in his usual seat next to you, hands shaking and ready for the lecture to begin so he can get today over with, but it wasn’t that easy, you had already asked him questions about his new game and about his morning which he was forced to answer. Worst of all, you told him that you liked his new sweatshirt, and with this he couldn’t help but blush a deep red as he tried to stutter out some form of a thank you, which ended up being more of a little whisper because he didn’t trust his voice. Lucky for him the teacher walked in at that exact moment and he knew that he would have a couple of hours to think about exactly how he was going to do it. Kenma didn’t listen to a word the teacher said the entire class and you were busy taking notes and focusing on every word so you could teach him later. This was typical between you two and it was one of the many ways you found excuses to hangout with each other.

Kenma started off by thinking about asking you out then ended up worrying himself silly about what would happen if you said no, what if you laughed in his face, how could he handle that? What if you really don’t like him and it is all a joke? How can he know? Were the little brushes he thought was flirty just you being you? What if he gets friend zoned and you lose your friendship?

“HELLLO EARTH TO KENMA” you practically shouted as you waved your hand in his face. Shocked, he blinked a couple of times and came back around to see you leaning over his desk and upon further inspection he realized that the classroom was empty, he had really just missed the whole first half of the day. Kenma followed you to the cafeteria where he idly listened to you and Kuroo gossip about something in a magazine that was completely over his head. Sick of being swarmed with these negative thoughts, Kenma pulled out his switch and began playing a mindless game to get him through lunch. The bell rang and you were back to class quicker than had been expected. The afternoon lecture went just the same as the morning one, Kenma didn’t care to listen to the boring discussion on calculus and instead stared ‘out the window’ which really meant that he was looking at you and admiring everything he thought was pretty about you. He loved your hair, your smile, the little wrinkle between your eyebrows that only occurred when you were concentrated, how your laugh lit up the room and how everything you did filled him with more happiness than anything else. Kenma wanted to ask you out and just watching you that afternoon brought him the courage. After class he was again the last one up out of his seat as he collected his things and swung his back over his shoulder, you standing ready right behind him. He took a couple steps towards the door before stopping suddenly and turning to face you.

Not wanting to break his sudden burst of confidence Kenma looked you dead in the eyes, “Y/n, do you want to go on a date with me?” He quickly questioned, his eyes wide. You took a sharp inhale before looking at your feet, this had done it,he just ruined everything. Before you had the chance to answer Kenma had left the classroom and taken off down the hall. You didn’t know what to say or do and honestly you were left in complete shock that he had just said something like that and left. You went immediately to go find him, knowing exactly where he would be. Swinging the club room door open you were panting hard as you scanned the room for any sign of Kenma. Instead you were met with Kuroo’s confused look.

“K-kenma, where’s kenma?” You panted, completely out of breath from the unexpected run.

Kuroo looked around the room as if to signal that he wasn’t there and that you were possibly crazy.

“I need to tell him that I would love to go on a date with him,” you sighed, “he ran off before I got the chance, I was just surprised and it took me a second and now he thinks that I don’t like him and that’s not it Kuroo, I like him a lot and I want to go on a date with him so bad but I just ruined it,” you had no idea why you were telling Kuroo all of this but you had to get it off of your chest as you felt the tears brimming and your heart pounding.

“Y/n,” you heard weakly from behind you. Whipping around you saw Kenma and immediately burst into tears as you ran up to hug him. You wrapped your arms so tight around him that he was convinced that you were going to strangle him, but he said nothing and instead lifted his hands to wrap back around you, patting your back lightly.

“I heard it all,” he murmured into your ear, “let’s go out Friday after school, okay?” He said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. You couldn’t make yourself say anything in fear of choking up so you just nodded your head and pulled away from the hug, wiping your tears as you looked at him one more time. You gave him another quick hug before letting go and taking a few steps away from the club room, “Friday?” You asked.

“Friday.”

Friday came and you were as nervous as ever, you and Kenma were going to a little arcade cafe (they are super duper cute, they have one in my hometown) as your date. You were so nervous and you wanted to look your best so you rushed home after school and immediately took a shower and changed your outfit so that you could feel your best for your date. You had been on several dates before but this one made you the most nervous because it was with your long time crush, Kenma. You two got along in every way and had the best times together and you didn’t want this to make it awkward and ruin things. Lucky for you, Kenma was just as panicked as you were and spent his time before the date laying on Kuroo’s bed complaining about how he didn’t think he had anything nice enough and that he was going to make an ass of himself. Kuroo followed this with some...unhelpful advice that was really just how he picked up girls for hookups. So needless to say Kenma wasn’t going to follow any of his advice.

Kenma was so excited to go on the date that he showed up almost ten minutes early and was just waiting around to see you there, his heart fluttering. After a couple of minutes a deep panic set in, what if you didn’t show up? How could he ever show his face again, what would happen, and right as he began really panicking you showed up. You were smiling and somehow looked even more adorable than usual, Kenma was completely in awe and didn’t even respond to your “hello,” as you two entered. THe little cafe was absolutely adorable with a lot of little vintage game boxes and game themed little pastries. You played Kenma in several rounds of Pacman before going on to play pinball and Tetris. Most games ended in Kenma winning because he’d played them for hours before but whenever you would win he would always tell you that it was a good game and that he thought that it was broken (always in a joking way of course) and when you were done playing games (which was not for a long time, you both had a great time playing games with and against each other trying to see who could beat the other one and you even got him to do a round or two of Dance Dance revolution which he was absolutely horrible at) you ordered a strawberry shortcake, some chocolate cookies and a chocolate croissant to share as you sat at one of the little booths. You both shared the pastries and ended up talking for over an hour about your favorite games, movies, shows, best ways to spend a weekend, whether big or small dogs were better and if you thought that lasagna was actually as gross as the name sounds. You two made each other laugh more than ever and at one point you placed your hand down on the table and Kenma took the opportunity and held your hand from across the booth. It was super sweet and you both couldn’t help the pink flush that covered both of your faces. After your ‘official’ date the two of you went back to your house and played games and studied together for another several hours before he said goodbye and went back to his house. The whole day was absolutely adorable and talking with Kenma always felt like talking with someone you’d known your entire life and it was the best feeling in the world. Your relationship was so perfect, he was there when you needed him and you were always there when he needed you and you were both so sickeningly sweet. Lucky for you Kenma could never say no so if you wanted cheesy couples pics or to go shopping together all you had to do was ask and he was completely on board.

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mochuelovelli · 3 years

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Lilith for the character ask?

Oh boy, a controversial character! Gotta say, I stan James Charles /J

How do I feel about this character?:

On a real note, I do like Lilith as a character. When we first meet her, she's pompous and proud. Oozing with entitlement, she's easy to route against and you like to see her get worked up and "brought down" to Eda's level as the wild which so eloquently put it. Later on, but not too much later that it feels disingenuous, we really get to see her show that she cares for her sister. One might believe it is *Eda* being ridiculous, as far as the audience is aware, Lilith's offer holds little downsides. Eda would be cured and be afforded the luxuries of the upper class AND keep her magic. All she had to do was be the Emperor's soldier.

As to not get off track by talking about Eda, (im sure Lilith herself would loathe that lol) Lilith's reveal to have cursed her sister over a spot in the emperor's coven was...controversial to say the least. I don't think it's unpopular to voice that, yeah. It could've been communicated better to the audience since I saw plenty of commentators and regular fans themselves either thought Lilith cursing her sister was *needlessly* petty and not at all thought out (which yeah it kinda was).

From where I stand on that issue is, yeah, Lilith's whole reason to curse her sister could've been avoided by just talking to her sister and asking her to let her have this. BUT, I think a lot of people forget that the Emperor's coven would want to limit the number of powerful witches in their coven. Sure, Belos would want to be protected by a bunch of loyal soldiers, but he wouldn't want too much of the population to ever have a much power as him. So limiting the number of members in not just his coven but possible in the other major covens, would aid in controlling that population.

This might be pure hogwash but like, there are a ton of other "lesser" covens. So in my mind, it's more likely that the general population of witches gets sorted into one of the various miscellaneous. If you think limiting yourself to only practicing Illusion magic sucks, imagine only practicing whatever the fuck the "swag coven" does.

Lol gonna add a page break this shit is getting too long

Romantic Ships for this character?:

Hm, it's only s1 and we haven't seen her interact w/ many characters outside of her fam/Belos/actual children. I kinda jokingly ship here with Steve lol. Kikimora and her also have a funny dynamic but in all actuality, I don't ship her w/ anyone rn.

Non-Romantic Ships for this character?:

Her and Hooty lol. I mean Eda is an obvious answer but like, Hooty fucking with Lilith is too funny to not want to see. Her and King would be great too, probably get some good B plots out of it. It would be a good contrast since they both can be petty but in different ways and I think that would help flesh out their characters a bit more and maybe cause some introspection (at least on Lilith’s end lol)

Unpopular opinion about this character?:

Lol. I feel like she is such a divisive character in general that most opinions about her aren’t too out of the main stream. I guess a more meta take is that when she’s portrayed in fanworks, usually fanfic but not exclusively, very...one note lol. She’s usually a pretty flat, boring character in an attempt to highlight the contrast between her and Eda. She’s the straight-laced, “responsible” sibling who has a chip on her shoulder. In fanon, that equates to her characterization to either be like, completely and utterly apologetic to the point where it becomes unbelievable for any person to do. Her apologizing or making amends is usually quickly forgiven by Luz/and or Eda. Sure, Luz is very forgiving person naturally but like?? She’s wasn’t mad in canon too much about THEIR well being (almost getting impaled), she was specifically pissed about Lilith betraying Eda.

So, if Lilith is a big part of your story (and it’s working in the realm of canon), then this should be a problem which doesn’t get resolved by just ONE big action. I also feel like her being on better terms with Eda would come BEFORE Luz since Eda’s main gripe with her would be about her being annoyed by Lilith’s controlling nature and the fact that she didn’t trust her enough to talk about her feelings back when she was first cursed (also her using Luz against her but I feel like that would probably be a hurdle that wouldn’t really be over come until Lilith in turn would be willing to sacrifice herself for Luz while also making an effort to care for Luz as a person not just see her as a “pet”). Hhhh this section is so long and its kinda bleeding over in the next question so-

Something I wish will happen or would have wanted to happen in canon?:

yall if you are still reading I am so sorry sksk

I want Lilith in general, not to be forgiven by either Luz or Eda. Eda probably early on stating about how she is unsure if she could EVER forgive her sister for what she has done. BUT, critically, Eda would see that Lilith is trying and she is willing to work with her (with a unhelpful dose of teasing) because at the end of the day she still loves her sister. For the relationship they had before everything with south, for knowing her side of the story even though she believes it doesn’t justify her actions. She understands and sympathizes, she’s grown a bit softer thanks to Luz, which is very funny since I want Luz to be the one who is the hardest to convince Lilith actually had a change of heart but more on that later.

Before I move on to what I want her path towards forgiveness with Luz looks like, I want to bring up a parallel that I haven’t seen many people make. Fans always talk about the parallel between the Clawthornes and Luz/Amity, and rightly so because there is a lot to extrapolate there, but I think another interesting dynamic that might be interesting to see in s2 would be an episode that focuses on lost friendship/sisterhood with the Clawthornes and Amity and Willow. It’s kinda funny that Amity and Willow’s friendship was ruined because Willow was too “weak” while Eda was too “powerful”. In a potential episode, it can show the progression both Eda/Lilith and Willow/Amity are making in rekindling their relationship with each other. For Eda and Lilith this would be a lot more rough around the edges since it both be either the first or one of the first attempts at doing so while Willow/Amity would maybe be further along yet still have some major/minor hang ups with one another. With Willow/Amity, their relationship would either be rounding the bend of fully moving past the “idk how to feel about you stage” or it is stated outright that Willow forgives Amity, (and by forgive, I mean in the “we both know what you did, you’ve actually changed. we won’t have the same relationship that we once had but I’m okay with trying again”). In contrast, Lilith and Eda would reach a understanding and come up with some ground rules on how to handle each other (Eda’s main take away from this “episode” would be what I previously stated in the last question), ones that will be more like guidelines cuz its Eda lol. Also what separates the Clawthornes conflict from the Willow/Amity one (besides the obvious) is that the Clawthornes both know how the other works. Which buttons to push and all that so both of them are going to have to learn to resist doing that, at least a bit, in order to actually progress.

ANYWAYS, I also want Luz to be the one to regard Lilith the coldest. Luz refusing to let Lilith teach her anything despite probably having more practical/book smarts knowledge on magic theory than Eda because she doesn’t trust her. If they are gonna use that masked dude as a spy, I want Luz to assume Lilith is somehow a coconspirator. This plot thread doesn’t have to be going at 100% the whole time, (in fact I would want it to be a temp thing maybe lasting a couple eps at most or like, just something that is hinted at but not dived deeply until the second half of the season). Really, Lilith has a hard time because Luz straight up doesn’t give her the opportunity to really express her regret/remorse. Lilith probably won’t at first give her a ton of reasons to forgive her as she usually attempts at coming back at Luz’s snide remarks with her own quippy comebacks. Sksk a really angsty end to an attempt could include Lilith saying something to Luz after going on a small talk with her (where yeah Lilith has improved but still needs noticeable work) that she “reminds her a lot of Eda” and Luz bites back with something like “Oh yeah? You going to curse me too? You want another person you can force to do what YOU want?”.

Hell maybe “parental problems” could have Lilith poke at, either on purpose or accidentally, Luz’s feelings about going back to the human world and Camila. Lilith reminding her, maybe unknowingly, reminds her a lot of her mom and that causes her to blow up on her. Luz would hate that comparison, thinking about how similar her mom and Lilith are to one another. That because she still has such a strong dislike of Lilith, it bleeds over into how Luz views Camila and vice versa. In that, both Camila and Lilith value respect, an adherence to the rules, have a great sense of wisdom (arguably for Lilith lol /hj), and (eventually for Lilith once she gets to know Luz better) a genuine want for Luz to succeed and belief in her even though they are critical of her actions at times. Sure Eda reminds her of that more, motherly protective kind of love, in which she would do anything for her to be happy and healthy. Lilith can be the other side of that, the worry and slight doubt. That familiar way they each go about trying to understand and get close to Luz yet not quite getting it yet would still do whatever she’d ask for her sake. Luz at first would take Lilith being disappointed in her actions as an accomplishment. As they grow closer and the more Lilith reminds her of her mom, it becomes scary. The disappointment hurts and in an effort not to feel like that again and to not want to think about the comparison between Lilith and her mother she will snap back at her. Eventually Lilith would then have to change again and reassure her that she cares and by extent, her mother cares to. It is here Lilith is willing to let go of being so constantly controlling and learns to encourage first (or do some form of the compliment sandwich) and Luz comes to peace with her feelings about her mother and understands her position better. To be able to love herself even if she knows that she will always try to do her best.

oh my fucking god you made it im so sorry i guess i had a lot of thoughts. fffffff

#TOH #lilith clawthorne #the owl house #character ask meme #luz noceda #edalyn clawthorne #yall im so sorry #this is very fanficy an long rip #if you read all this you are a champ but also no i cant cover your insurance lol

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earthnashes · 4 years

Text

Hey ya’ll! For some reason I ended up thinkin’ a lot about past experiences in school and figured I’d write about a couple of ‘em. Since it might get long-ish I’ll put it all down underneath the cut, but in the meantime, unless you don’t mind me sharing my personal thoughts and stories at random here, I might make a separate blog for this stuff. We’ll see! o3o At any rate, those school stories!

I dunno if ya’ll know about this since I rarely ever mention it but I went to SCAD for college (Graduated like a year ago). And as much as I absolutely loved the majority of my time there, there were a couple of instances I don’t look back on fondly. :/

Aight so this first story was my first year in SCAD, and I was in my very first animation class. I fuckin’ loved this class, it was so much fun, we had to learn the old-fashioned way animations were made with flip-techniques and light tables and what have you. It was overall a good time. I met some good people there too, but I usually sat in the back corner and ended up talking with a group of folks the majority of the class. Keep in mind, we were allowed to have conversations while we worked.

I’ll admit I can get pretty loud; my voice just naturally carries and can raise in volume more than what’s normal, I guess. But at some point the professor decided the back corner was being too rowdy and instead of addressing everyone in that corner, she would specifically single me out. The first time or so I understood ‘cuz maybe I was being too loud and forgot to watch my voice, but the next couple days continued like that even when I wasn’t really talking and focusing more on working. It eventually lead to me just not talking all-together or keeping my answers short and low to avoid being singled out, but even then it still happened.

It eventually led to one day, before class starts and I hadn’t even set my stuff down that my teacher pulled me aside and asked if I could move to sit closer to her to “try something out”. She said it was to make sure I wasn’t “getting a rise out of my peers” or some shit like that, but I didn’t understand why she thought I was the source of it, but I complied anyway. Infuriated me and was so embarrassing to basically be made to sit in an isolated corner, so much so I remember calling my mom during class break in my car to avoid anyone seeing me upset.

Well lo-and-behold, a few days go by with me sitting in that little space and speaking to basically no one until class was over, and the corner carries on as loud and as rowdy as it had been without me. Professor can’t single me out this time, I’m not over there, so she addresses the entire corner. Eventually I’m allowed to sit wherever I want when she realizes, ya know, it isn’t me making all the noise or “getting a rise out of people”, but even after that she never singled anyone else out, or pulled anyone else aside. Didn’t even attempt to talk to the other people in the corner, just kinda. Left it at that?

Ever since that specific incident I kept to myself during class for the most part, but she had started calling specifically on me after that to share my thoughts to the class on whatever we were doing. Always said “I wanna hear what you think, Ashante’.” at some point during discussions. I don’t know why though, she hadn’t done anything like that before; maybe her strange way of apologizing or something. She eventually stopped, thank god, but it had bothered me for a while after, even after I passed the class.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another story in college that was sorta-kinda of the same vein happened I think still my first year at SCAD. This time it was in a different class, like a semester after the previous story, and it was a computer graphics class. I wasn’t very fond of this class but the teacher seemed okay, if a little boring.

Uhhhh but anyway. We had an animation assignment and the first step of it was for everyone to do a storyboard of what we wanted to animate. I loved this project, it was the only real enjoyable one of the class, so of course I finished my storyboard and all that good stuff. The entire class turns the assignment in and we have a critique, like not one person missed this assignment and we all went up and presented what we had and we discussed. Two facts I want ya’ll to keep in mind is 1. the assignment was required to be turned in digitally so we could present it via projector, and 2. the professor participated in the critique, so he saw that literally everyone in the class did the fucking assignment and turned it in ON TIME, I need to stress that.

So, a few days pass, we’re working on our animations, and our grades are up for us to see on the online board thing; can’t remember what it was called but you were able to check whenever you want to keep tabs on your grade. So, I sit down at my computer and check my grade before class starts. I had kept a consistent high-B in this class, so imagine my complete shock when that shit was at a fucking D. My grade dropped from being like a 89 to a 69 in one week, and the only assignment that was turned in that could have affected it at that point was the storyboard one. So I look at that grade. It’s a fucking 0. I got a 0 on it. There’s no explanation, just a blank 0 staring back at me and I’m deeply confused.

That’s when my friend next to me asks “hey uh, what’d you get for your storyboard??” I told her, and she tells me she got the exact same thing. The dude next to us overhead and was like “wait, you too??? My grade dropped so low, what gives?” We end up asking the entire class and EVERYONE. GOT. A. ZERO. On this assignment. Everyone. So, we’re flabbergasted and there’s almost visible question marks above our heads, then the professor waltz in. We’re all kinda clambering for an explanation but he’s like “hold on, I need to say a piece before we start class”. After he sits his shit down he goes on to say “how disappointed he was” at us for not turning in the previous assignment and talks about how he’s never experienced having to fail an entire class like that before over one assignment. And of course everyone’s like ????????? You were there?? We had a critique?? YOU WERE ABLE TO ACCESS THEM ON YOUR COMPUTER????

And then he basically says “well, computer’s are never wrong, and as far as I see no one turned it in, so I’m afraid everyone will have to get a 0. Do better next time.″

So, we’re furious, but there isn’t a lot we can do when he kinda refuses to hear us out and starts the class. So during break, I tell my friend that I’m gonna try and talk to the professor. A few others decide to join me and about 6 of us approach him about it. I distinctly remember my friend hiding behind me when we proposed the possibility that, ohhh I dunno, the drop-box system glitched or some shit. Keep in mind that DropBox, which was a shared stashing system the professors made students use to turn their work in, is notorious for losing files. Every other professor I’ve had up to that point has warned us about it, some even barely trusted it to the point of just recommending us turning our work in via email.

He, again, refuses to hear us out because he claims “the computer doesn’t spontaneously glitch like that” DESPITE EVERYTHING. We’re arguing for a little bit before he doesn’t wanna hear it anymore and we’re told to basically drop it, and the group disperses. I’m the last one to try my luck with it, and he says if you have such a problem with it, we can talk about it sometime this week during my office hours. So I tell him absolutely, i’m not about to take a zero when I know I turned that shit in.

The day comes and I get to his office, and it isn’t just him in the office but also the Dean of that specific department. It catches me off guard a little but still, I’m thinkin’ alright, well maybe if he won’t listen the department head will. But I barely get a chance to talk, because before I really say anything the professor basically goes “so I’ve had a discussion with our dean here, and we’re both in agreement with my decision, but in case it’ll help you feel better he wanted to tell you in person.”

And the dean proceeds to say, and I quote, “Computers are not living entities who decide to delete things or have tiny little evil viruses that magically wipe away data. They do not make mistakes like people do. If the computer says you didn’t turn your assignment in, then you didn’t, and I need you to let go of the idea that something went wrong here because it didn’t. Okay sweetie?”

It’s one of the few instances I distinctly remember being spoken down to like I was a fucking idiot. He had his head tilted down and his eyebrows raised and he was kinda standing over me like he was trying to talk down a child and I hated it. The professor was off to the side just kinda nodding his head and it felt really strange to be in the office at that point. I didn’t wanna be there anymore so, I said thank you for your time, and the head just kinda smirked at me and left. I think it kinda shook me cuz I remember trying not to shake too much. The professor pulled me aside before I could leave and was apologizing for getting his supervisor involved, and said he hoped it answered any issues I may have had about the assignment problem.

I told him it did, then said “If I won’t get help from either of you, I’ll just take it to the president of the school.”

He said something along the lines of “if it makes you feel better, then okay”, and I left feeling some type of way. I hated it.

Soooo I do, I send an email to the president explaining the situation about the whole class being failed on this specific assignment, we trying to reason with the professor, him not trying to do anything about it and how the dean was equally unhelpful, and I can’t remember exactly what I said in the email but it was basically me asking her what steps I should take in order to rectify the issue. She didn’t actually reply to me, but not even two days after I sent the email the professor pulls me aside and basically says that he “gave it more thought” and made a point to say that, while he still stood by what he said about computers not being capable of glitching the way it had, he’d “give the whole class the appropriate grades” we deserved since he finally acknowledges that we did have a critique he was fucking present for.

My overall grade jumped from a 69 to a 90-something after I was given my actual grade. Everyone else’s grades came back up too. I’m almost sure i’m the only one who pursued it since he seemed to be pulling only me aside, but it’s awful convenient he changed his tune right after I emailed the president of the school, so I think she must’ve talked to him and the Dean at the very least.

I really didn’t like that professor after that.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Sooooo yeah. A couple of stories from school that really stuck in my memory despite it being years ago. I have a couple more I might share, most of them silly and fun but a few not so fun, but we’ll see! Maybe after I start a journal blog for the sole purpose of reblogging stuff and talkin’ my thoughts. I dunno, though. o3o

BUT in the meantime, feel free to share your own college/school experiences! I’m always interested to hear about how ya’ll went about school. O:

#earthsong talks

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magpiemorality · 4 years

Note

Human au "That's a weird place to spend the day." Is Damian first day in the new school, he meets a lot of people. But one in particular had his attention, a weird boy that was eating all alone in lunch and niw, for some reason, was outside the school, inside of a dumpster.

Hell yeah high school AU! I had to use a bit of possibly non-US school detail here because google was being unhelpful. Forgive me! Also there was going to be an angsty twist to the ending BUT I forewent it in favour of fluff, because Remus deserves fluff too!

I’ve put them as being around 14/15 in this.

AO3

***

He notices him in third period. There’s a commotion in the hall while they’re working on their group introduction activity and someone goes racing past, cackling wildly. Down the hall a different teacher leans out to scold the culprit and Damian gets dragged back to his own class before he can eavesdrop further. He forgets all about the flash of floppy hair and bright teeth in the mayhem of the first day of a new school. At least it’s the first day of term- last time he switched schools he’d had to go in midway through October, so that had been hell…

Damian notices him again at lunch, without really realising it’s the same boy. He’s sitting by himself cramming food into his mouth at breakneck speed, unable to sit still for a single moment, but glued to his mobile as he watches what sounds like an action movie from the tinny explosions coming out of the speakers as Damian walks by. It’s such a unique impression that Damian actually smiles to himself. He would sit down and make friends- because in his experience the quirky kids are always more interesting than the normal ones- but he’d made a promise to himself to try and maintain some kind of facade of cool for as long as possible this time before tanking his reputation spectacularly like last time. So he sits with friendly Patton and meets his little squad instead. They’re pretty great, actually, and not remotely normal and boring it turns out, so there goes that plan.

Which means he has the go-ahead from himself to befriend the intriguing weird kid. Awesome.

The third time he notices him is after school ends for the day. And technically, Remus notices him first anyway.

Damian is waiting by the parking lot to be picked up, courtesy of an over-protective mother and a meek father who refuse to let him ride the bus. He’s listening to some musical or other, not really concentrating, when there’s an echoey voice from somewhere nearby.

“Beetlejuice deserved better, man, he was the coolest!” In addition to being echoey the voice is slightly hoarse and breaks twice during the sentence. It’s also familiar, and Damian quickly realises it matches the voice he’d heard following the cackling during third period, and stands up.

There’s no one around that he can see (and yes he looks up, he’s no idiot), but then there are fingers curling up and over the edge of the dumpster a few feet away and the mystery is solved.

Well not entirely, because there’s now the question of why the boy is in a dumpster.

“Why are you in a dumpster?” Damian asks as a head pops up to join the hands. The boy grins, shrugging a shoulder and hauling himself out nimbly. He brushes his clothes down and saunters over to join Damian, pointing at his phone as he declares,

“I like it too. The musical.”

“Okay, but why were-”

“It’s a life choice, dude, don’t get weird about it,” the boy shrugs again, stretching his arms up with a satisfied sigh. “I’m Remus. Who are you, Harvey Dent?” He holds his hand out and blinks big brown eyes at Damian, who is both oddly charmed and slightly offended. But he shakes the hand anyway.

Doesn’t stop him asking, “did you just call me two-face?” with his best ‘you’re in trouble’ lip-purse. Remus tilts his head slightly and his floppy hair flops with the motion. There’s a bleached streak at the front that Damian thinks is pretty cool. Maybe he’ll try bleaching his this year too.

“I mean, yeah. Looks like burn scars too, am I wrong?” Remus replies, not in the slightest bit fazed.

Damian laughs despite himself, holding out his phone. “No, you’re right. But I prefer Damian, if you’re gonna call me anything. Now add yourself into my phone, trash-kid. We’re gonna be friends.”

Remus’s delighted cackle is just as great as the first time Damian had heard it.

#ts remus #ts deceit #remus sanders #deceit sanders #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides aus #high school au #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #kid deceit #kid remus #writepie #prompt fill #ts patton #are there any tags I've missed??

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gretchensinister · 4 years

Note

for the meme: cavity, blacksand if nobody else asked already, and a favorite SU ship (jaspearl? jasprose?)

Cavity

· who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

Pitch is definitely the werewolf, and Tooth is the hunter, he’s also definitely someone she knew/knows as a human

· who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

I feel like Pitch is the mermaid and Tooth is the fisherman, because of Pitch’s obvious outsider qualities. But then again Tooth is also living on an isolated peninsula so…there’s a connection possible here. Perhaps Tooth is trying to hide her bird-person nature in this scenario

· who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Tooth is the witch and Pitch is the familiar—she summons an imp to take animal form and that works most of the time, though Pitch is a little more human when they’re alone, but it turns out…Pitch actually isn’t an imp, and has a much different true form. He was able to be summoned as an imp because he was being punished for being really bad at being an incubus. There’s a lot of yelling on everyone’s part when this is revealed (suddenly, and at a very awkward or inconvenient time)

· who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

Much like one of the blacksand versions, Tooth is the coffee addict that is like “caffeine is caffeine” and Pitch is like, “please. Please understand that this is an art. This bitter black liquid is art that I am making for you.”

· who’s the professor and who’s the TA

Skipping like before

· who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

Even ONLY as the movie-version, we-only-know-him-as-a-villain Pitch, he’s STILL got “Knight” stamped all over him, I feel. Pitch is the knight and Tooth is a queen. The plot is a bodyguard plot. Maybe the conflict is that Tooth has to pretend not to be in a relationship at all to retain her power? And the goal is to change that situation.

· who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

Tooth is the teacher and Pitch is the single parent, and I’m imagining some kind of gymnastics class and Seraphina is like the oddly tall one amid all the other children, who are the mini-fairy parallels (aside: there is a robin attacking my basement window right now; it’s been doing this for at least 2 hours already and I do NOT want this to be happening anymore. Your reflection ain’t gonna fuck your girl, bro! Even my cat got bored of watching this dumbass.)

· who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Tooth is the editor, I feel like we see that energy when she’s directing her fairies at the beginning of the movie. Pitch is a writer, horror, naturally, and very overdramatic also. Punching out one of his teeth does not happen in this human au, of course—but he does have to get rid of a section he likes.

Jaspearl

I thought about begging off on this one, like, blah blah blah so much has happened in canon since I really felt shippy, and of course it all has to be very much AU, and then I was like WAIT THAT’S THE POINT. Also, we are firmly in “my city now” territory.

· who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

Jasper’s the werewolf and Pearl is the hunter. Is that too typical? Oh well…

· who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Jasper is the mermaid because I think giant mermaids are awesome. Pearl is the fisherman and this is not something she EVER expected. Maybe Pink Diamond is somehow the ocean in this AU.

· who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Pearl is the witch and Jasper is the familiar, like a lioness or something. Actually rather unhelpful as a familiar. Not that Pearl needs help because she’s powerful on her own but it’s odd to everyone who doesn’t know (that Jasper’s under an enchantment and technically isn’t a familiar at all)

· who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

Jasper is the prickly barista and Pearl is the coffee addict who is a) way smoother than Jasper can really deal with and b) not put off by Jasper’s aloofness because, after all, she IS providing her with coffee.

· who’s the professor and who’s the TA

Skipping like before

· who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

Pearl is so much the knight that I have to keep her being a knight in this AU, which leads to Jasper as a princess, which is super interesting. I think in this AU Jasper would be the youngest princess of several, not really in line for the throne, and she and Pearl don’t really spend much time together until some disaster happens that makes them think that the kingdom has been destroyed, and they have to slowly get to know and understand each other as they look for the kid who’s supposed to restore it

· who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

Pearl is the single parent, and Jasper is the teacher. Obviously Steven is the kid in this AU. I think I’m not going to develop more details right now as Jasper teaching Steven in canon took a very dark turn! (Even if it did end up okay.)

· who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Pearl is the editor because it honestly seems like something she would LOVE doing, and also I find the idea of Jasper as a reclusive writer to be very entertaining and also maybe REALLY HELPFUL FOR HER? I think Jasper would write poetry and Pearl at first would resist the idea that Jasper is doing what she’s doing in her writing on purpose and in order to get anywhere they have to really work to understand each other, and acknowledge the very different connections they have with a famous writer (and her equally famous pseudonym) who is now dead. This has pretentious literary story written all over it. I’m into it.

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kafeuka · 4 years

Text

[1/1] the hopeless case of a romantic

█ Title: the hopeless case of a romantic █ Summary: It wasn’t how he imagined it would be, but that night, Jeongguk knew he would not have it any other way. █ Status: Completed █ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin This is written for JIKOOK WEEK DAY O1: Then and Now

Yoongi hyung often accused Jeongguk of being a hopeless romantic, as if having a big heart, a gentle soul and a love for love is a crime. He believed in soulmates; the idea of two people whose names and story were whispered amongst the stars never failed to warm his heart. This belief stemmed from his parents, the two human beings whom he loved most in the whole entire world.

He wanted someone who would look at him the way his father looked at his mother; as if she hung all the twinkling stars, shaped all the silver moons with her hands and paint the skies when the sun set. He wanted someone who would love him unconditionally, just like how his mother loved his father although she despised his smoking habit.

Despite their age, they were not shy in showing affection for the whole world to see. Jeongguk wondered how they were so comfortable with each other that whenever they were together, the rest of the world just seemed to melt away. As if the world was theirs, and the others were just living in it.

Because of this, Jeongguk was never really into a relationship. Not that he ever had one. Most of the times he would just admire someone from afar. He would rather not get involved at all.

Hoseok hyung suggested that he should go on blind dates. Initially, he agreed.

The first phase – adding them as a friend, sliding into the DMs – was great.

The next step – meeting and actually going out on a date – however, was terrible.

Gone the confident, charming boy from the DMs. Always replaced by the stuttering, sweating mess that was Jeon Jeongguk. It was awfully easy to compliment someone when you were staring at a screen, but when it comes to staring into their eyes, Jeongguk found himself shaking.

At the age of twenty, Jeon Jeongguk gave up in finding the One.

All of his crushes were out of his league and most of his admirers never called after the second date. He was not that desperate to send cute text messages to someone as he had this irrational fear of being a burden, but it would be great to have someone who would listen to him rant about how his day went.

As much as he hated to admit it, Yoongi hyung was not entirely wrong. He was not only a hopeless romantic, but he was hopeless and romantic.

ii.

When Jeongguk asked Yoongi hyung how he knew Seokjin hyung was his soulmate, he answered: “They say when you meet your soulmate, you just know it’s them.”

He hated how unhelpful those statement was, because that was not how he met his.

His parents’ love story was a typical love story. It was love at first sight – Jeongguk’s favourite. They met at a fair held at the amusement park. His father took the job of the ride operator for the summer, and as the stars had written it, he met her at the end of his shift. He always mentioned that she reminded him of a firework, beautiful and mesmerizing that his world stopped. She was queueing then, waiting for her turn and he saw a chance and took it.

While two of her friends were seated together, he stepped in and offered to sit next to her even though going to a someplace high was not something he considered an entertainment. Of course, his attempt caused an uproar, he received raucous boos from the other angry kids and a warning from the manager but it was worth it. He always had a small smile on his face whenever he got to this part of the story. They chatted as they waited and for the first time since he rode the rollercoaster, he was not the tiniest bit scared.

Jeongguk would never fail to let out an overly exaggerated groan, often expressing his displeasure by making faces along with a remark full of disgust, but he knew that he wanted, longed even, to feel that way too.

Meeting the One should be magical, like something that you would read in a fairy tale.

This was how Jeongguk truly believed would happen when he finally meets the one: it will be romantic, not too cringy and pukeworthy but just romantic enough to make his friends and his cousins to be envious of him. Time will stop when they lock eyes with each other, the angels will begin to sing while simultaneously play their harps to produce a mellifluous symphony of the century and petals would fall around them out of nowhere, just like the anime he watched last week.

That was not what happened.

It was not magical or dreamy or romantic.

He blamed all the Tony/Steve soulmate fanfictions he read at 3AM for implementing the idea of “love at first sight” and “instant connection between two lonely souls” inside his head.

In fact, Jeongguk met Park Jimin on a sunny Tuesday morning in the most Boring class in the history of Boring Classes. Jeongguk hated his guts at first. Whenever Jimin opened his mouth to speak, Jeongguk would find himself rolling his eyes and praying to God for an ice cream truck to drop on him. Being run over repeatedly by a lorry was less painful than having to sit in a two-hour class with Jimin.

However, there was also a saying that goes, ‘If you hate someone too much, you’ll end up loving them too much.’

That statement, however, was something he wished Yoongi hyung had told him instead.

iii.

They began to interact when they were allotted in the same group for their second assignment. Every second Jeongguk spent sitting at the same table with Jimin was agonising. Being in the same group at the same table meant that Jimin’s voice was now much clearer and he was now much closer.

Jimin’s face was pleasing to the eyes, he was soft and hard at the same time. He had gentle, dark and slightly slanted eyes yet his piercing gaze often made Jeongguk look away. His cheeks were round and squishy, they reminded Jeongguk of the mochi he always had after elementary school, however his jaw was as sharp as a knife. All in all, Jimin was not hideous at all, especially when he had his mouth shut. Unfortunately, Jimin had a lot he wanted to announce to the class so thanks to this irritating behaviour of his, it was not difficult to overlook his features.

He ignored the voice inside his head that screamed at him to ditch the class, but the rational part of his mind reminded him that he was a scholarship student. The last thing he wanted was to get kicked out just because he did not want to be in the same room as Jimin.

From the instructions, Jeongguk could already tell how much of a pain in the ass it would be. Decorating a booth? Creating an advertisement video? There was just too much work to be done in three months and there were only five heads in his group.

Naturally, Jimin was elected as the team leader because:

a) He was the teacher’s pet

b) Everyone in the group was utterly in love with him

Arguing about the team members position when you were going to be stuck with them for months was not something in Jeongguk’s list. He decided to went along with it, letting the protests vanish although they were already at the tip of his tongue and settled with an imaginary argument inside his head instead.

The first day was unbearable — Jeongguk had to lower his head once in a while to stop his eye from twitching in annoyance. Every single word Jimin uttered seemed to make his blood boil and head throb. He did not know it was possible for a person to be this insufferable. Jeongguk tried his hardest not to roll his eyes whenever the others were praising Jimin. His ideas were not exactly that brilliant, if Jeongguk were to be honest.

“Sorry, I was sort of rambling,” Jimin apologized with a small giggle.

Jeongguk managed to held back a groan. He knew damn well he was rambling and he apologized for it, but Jeongguk knew that he was not feeling sorry. Not even a little bit. Not when he had that proud smile on his face. God, Jeongguk would love to slap that smile from his face.

“Anybody had any better idea?” Jimin asked, looking at each and every one of them.

Pretending to be considerate? Man, this guy knew how to get on Jeongguk’s nerves.

He absolutely had no idea what came over him, maybe it was how the other team members were ready to lick the ground Jimin walked on, or maybe how irritating and high pitched Wonho’s giggles was, but Jeongguk opened his mouth up to speak, despite his brain being empty of ideas.

“Maybe, uh…”

All heads turned towards him, staring at him in anticipation. Somehow, instead of looking at anybody else, his eyes found Jimin’s. Jimin was beaming, dark eyes glistening as he slowly nodded to encourage Jeongguk. His gaze was different than the others, which was a good thing because it made him feel less nervous. Jimin’s smile stretched wider, and all of a sudden, the weight of the team’s collective gazes felt like it had been lifted from his shoulders.

Jeongguk brought his hand on top of the table, softly tapping his index finger as he straightened in his seat. With a newfound surge of confidence, he said, “Maybe, um… instead of making it only focusing on drawings or paintings, maybe we can… uh… consider every form of art for the website?”

“Huh… that’s not bad,” Chaeyoung murmured, before clicking her pen and started to write something on her notebook.

Jimin beamed, “I love the idea! That’s wonderful. This means that we are not only targeting painters, we are also attracting a large amount of audience who are—”

Jeongguk’s body went lax after his impromptu outburst (technically, it was not an outburst but he insisted that it was), he lain his back against the chair, wishing to become one with it. He felt thankful that nobody was criticizing his dumb idea. And never in a million years he wanted to admit it, but he felt glad that Jimin was encouraging him, instead of trying to shoot him down.

It was the first time he felt so welcomed.

iv.

Before the first week ended, they managed to lay everything down. When it comes to his leadership skills, Jimin was quite lenient in their task division. Jeongguk offered to work on the advertisement video, and as much as he would rather do it all alone, Jimin was determined that he needed help. As a method of group communication, Jimin created a group text for the five of them.

Jeongguk was hoping that it will be a quiet group, but it was especially alive at night and early in the morning. Jimin would never fail to send a message to greet them good morning and night, and sometimes he would send motivational messages for all of them. It took all Jeongguk’s willpower not to reply a ‘Shut The Fuck Up’ or leave the group, but he had to remind himself that he needed to be in good terms with everyone in the team.

Two weeks before the deadline, it was Jeongguk’s turn to play a huge role for their project. So far, he had only been helping with the report and booth decoration, which was not something major as everyone had taken part too. He announced in their group chat (which was probably his third time ever sending a message there) that he was going to start working on the video soon.

He completed the storyboard a few days earlier before sharing his vision to the group. He was ready to get attacked, to have Wonho judging him, to have Jimin being dissatisfied with his work, to Chaeyoung being disappointed and to have Mirae complain about how lacking it was. Unlike his expectation, they liked it. Jimin was the one who loved it the most, always complimenting how hardworking he was, and how he truly appreciated the effort Jeongguk made with the storyboard.

Instead of the usual ‘good luck Jeongguk!’ and ‘thanks for your hard work!’, Jeongguk received a private message from Jimin. They never texted privately before, and seeing Jimin’s name on a new chat caused him to raise an eyebrow. Was Jimin about to ask him to add last minute changes for the video?

With negative thoughts flooding his mind, he heaved a sigh before clicking it open.

✉ From: Jimin Hey! Just wondering if you are OK? If you need help, I’m here 😊

“Huh…” Jeongguk huffed, squinting his eyes in suspicion. His thumb hovered over the keyboard before typing an answer, only to backspace everything. It was rather curious how Jimin was checking up on him, as if he thought Jeongguk was unreliable.

Seokjin hyung often told him that he was always being sceptical for absolutely no reason at all, that he always thought of things negatively instead of positively. It was a trait he was not proud of, but he could not help it when Jimin suddenly text him privately out of nowhere.

After quite some time, he finally typed a reply.

✉ To: Jimin I’m fine. Thanks for your concern

Belatedly, he realised the text he sent seemed rude so he abruptly added a smiley face.

✉ From: Jimin Haha, alright then. Where will you be working on the video?

✉ To: Jimin I’ll be going to the art room to meet up with the art students. Then I’ll probably go to library to shoot some scenes

✉ From: Jimin Okay 😊

Jeongguk stared at the screen of his phone, waiting for ‘Jimin is typing…’ to appear. When it did not, he locked his phone and tossed it to his bed.

Of course, Jeongguk just had to be an idiot by telling Jimin his plan. The moment he entered the art room, Jimin was already there, talking with a few of the art students and laughing about something they said. Jeongguk nearly dropped his camera when he saw Jimin, not expecting the blonde to be there at all.

“Hey, Jeongguk!” Jimin called out, waving his hand at him.

Jeongguk awkwardly waved back, not liking the attention he was getting when everybody turned their heads towards him.

“So, where do you want me, mate?” Mingyu asked as he got off from the table.

“Preferably anywhere I can work comfortably. How about there?”

“So I just had to draw, is it?”

“Yeah. Just draw whatever you want, don’t pay attention to me. I want it to look candid,” Jeongguk informed before placing his backpack on top of the table.

While Mingyu was preparing his material, Jeongguk took out his tripod from his bag and began to assemble it together with his camera when Jimin approached him.

“Do you need any help?” Jimin asked, watching Jeongguk work with his camera.

“Nah.”

“Okay, I’ll just wait for you in case you need me.”

“You can go, you know. I can handle this.”

“I know,” Jimin grinned before shrugging, “Just in case.”

He doubted that he needed Jimin to be there, but before he could ask him to go again, he decided against it. Once Mingyu was ready, Jeongguk began recording. It was only a minute in when Jeongguk announced him to stop so he could check the video. The angle was perfect, Mingyu’s facial expression was good, however the lighting was unsatisfactory. Sure, it was not as terrible as the lighting in that one battle episode of Game of Thrones, but it would be difficult during the editing process later.

Jimin must have sensed that something was troubling him that the leader stood next to him, peered on the video and asked if something was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong except the lighting,” Jeongguk murmured, looking up the ceiling to find the lights were already switched on to his dismay.

The weather was not exactly helping either.

“I can help,” Jimin quipped enthusiastically before taking out his phone from his pocket and switch on the flashlight as he waved his phone around. “Let me know where you need me.”

The whole idea was absurd to Jeongguk, but it was worth a try. In less than half an hour, with Jimin’s help, he was done. The one who was super happy about it was Jimin, who could not stop gushing how amazing the video was and how professional Mingyu looked. Jeongguk grinned as he pressed fast forward, completely satisfied at how the video turned out.

He thanked Mingyu and the art students before packing his stuff to move to the library with Jimin following him. One thing Jeongguk noticed about Jimin was how he just had a lot of things to talk about, never running out of topic. It was irritating at first, but at times he spewed some facts that Jeongguk found to be interesting. Jeongguk let him talk, he watched as Jimin was speaking animatedly about the latest comic book he was reading.

Surprisingly, the day (and recording) went by smoothly. He even had a few videos he could use for fillers. The four hours he spent with Jimin was not horrible at all. If anything, it was quite… enjoyable.

He decided that Park Jimin was less annoying now.

He was not entirely certain when he began to feel completely comfortable around Jimin, but he knew it did not take long enough to warm up to him. Gradually, he stopped talking rather formally to Jimin and started to jest around, well aware of how much he actually enjoyed hearing the laughter coming out from Jimin.

In fact, everything seemed to go so smoothly that Jeongguk felt worried. They managed to complete everything before the deadline, they have submitted their work early and all they needed to do was now prepare for the upcoming exhibition. Finishing early meant that they have time for other assignments.

Even after they were done, Jimin still never failed to greet them mornings and nights, asking them how their assignments went. Honestly, it baffled the hell out of Jeongguk because he was so used to not keeping any contact with his previous group members. Once a project is complete, so did their team. They were only there to work, not to connect emotionally. The change was refreshing that the spam of text messages from the group did not bother him anymore. It actually made Jeongguk went from completely silent, to the one who sent memes as a response.

A part of him was embarrassed of having terrible thoughts regarding his groupmates because now he came to a realization that he actually enjoyed their presence.

More specifically Jimin’s.

After everything was done and they were reaching the end of semester, Jimin insisted on having a celebration. Truth be told, Jeongguk was not big on social gatherings but after weeks of being with Jimin, he knew he was unable to say no.

Jeongguk found himself counting days to the celebration, a bit surprised at himself for feeling excited rather than dreading it. They went to a restaurant at first for dinner, but ended up going to the nearest club after Chaeyoung suggested. He swallowed, praying to the heavens that majority of them would decline but he could not help but to cave in when he saw how enthusiastic Jimin was when Chaeyoung brought it up.

Even before entering, music was already spilling out to the street and it felt as if heartbeats were on the loud speakers. It was not as crowded as Jeongguk had imagine, but there were still a lot than he would have liked. Most of them went straight to the dance floor, laughing and grinding against each other under the acid green lights. Jimin, however, strutted to the bar. Jeongguk only followed, knowing well that he would not be able to dance if there wasn’t any alcohol in his system.

The music only seemed to get louder by the second, and by the time Jeongguk sat next to Jimin, the blonde already gulped down three shots.

“Wow.” Jeongguk had to leaned it slightly and yell. “Slow down, Jimin.”

Jimin’s pretty lips curved upwards as he shook his head. Jeongguk watched as he took out his wallet, yelled at the bartender for one Zombie. Jeongguk have only drank beers from the convenience stores and a few sips of martini, so when Jimin had his drink delivered, he was a little bit in awe. It was served in a tall glass, bright red in colour with a lot of ice. Jimin ditched the straw, sipping them in one go. Jeongguk could not help but to stare in amazement.

“Jimin,” he called out, but the music drowned his voice. He tried again, practically screaming this time. “Jimin!!”

“Yeah?” Jimin answered.

“Are you okay?”

He could not hear Jimin’s reply, but from his lips Jeongguk could tell he was saying, “Grand.”

Jeongguk began to worry then when Jimin reached out for his wallet again, but Jeongguk stopped him and ordered water instead. He paid for the overcharged water bottles and handed one to Jimin. Jimin refused, shaking his head and pushing the bottle away.

The next thing Jeongguk knew, Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise and he abruptly clamped his lips shut. Jeongguk raised a brow in confusion before Jimin stood up from the stool, nearly toppling it in the process, then proceeded to frantically turn his head in search of something.

“Jimin, are you—” He was not given the chance to continue his sentence because Jimin dashed as soon as his eyes lit up. Bewildered, Jeongguk followed from behind, not before grabbing both water bottles.

Jimin ran to the bathroom, nearly colliding with a man who just came out of it, and Jeongguk had to apologize on his behalf. After profusely repeating his apologies and bowing to show sincerity, Jeongguk entered the bathroom and was immediately greeted with the sounds of Jimin retching.

The bathroom was a lot quieter; the music was barely heard inside the pristine white walls. Jeongguk approached the stall with an open door to find Jimin was kneeling on the floor, head bowing near the toilet bowl.

“Oh, Jimin,” Jeongguk sighed before kneeling next to him, trying his best not to breathe through his nostrils.

He gently caressed Jimin’s back as Jimin heaved. Once Jimin was done, Jeongguk offered him water, which Jimin gladly took. Jimin flushed before leaning meekly against the partition, lips swollen, nose red and his eyes teary. Jeongguk offered a sympathetic smile as Jimin sniffed.

“Are you okay?”

Jimin took a sip instead of answering, his eyes avoiding Jeongguk.

Jeongguk let the question hang in the air, not wanting to force an answer out of Jimin.

Jimin had a distant look on his face, and Jeongguk understood that there was something that was troubling him.

After a while, Jimin finally spoke. “Not quite.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jimin bit his lower lip, eyes softening as he lowered his gaze. “Not really,” he answered.

“That’s okay. We can talk about something else then. Or do you prefer to just sit on the dirty floor?”

Jimin’s lips cracked a smile Jeongguk did not know he missed. How could he missed Jimin’s smile when he had seen them more than the hair on his head?

“Thank you, Jeongguk.”

“For...?”

“For being here,” Jimin smiled. Oh boy, Jeongguk thought. Oh boy. “It really means a lot to me.”

Jeongguk had seen countless of smiles on Jimin’s face before but this one was different. His eyes did not crinkle in the corners, but his gaze on Jeongguk was soft and endearing. His smile did not reach his ears, but he knew it was genuine.

At that moment, sitting on the dirty checkered floor of a club he could not even pronounce, he was certain that he found the One.

vi.

Symptoms of falling in love according to the first website Google provided:

1. You can’t stop staring at them: check ✔

Of course, he could not stop staring at Jimin. He would not want to miss those smiles, the way Jimin would pout his lips sometimes when he spoke, how Jimin’s brows furrowed when he was thinking and the way Jimin’s eyes formed crescents and body vibrating when he laughed.

2. You want them to be happy: check ✔

Of course, he wanted Jimin to be happy. Jimin deserved everything good in the universe. Hell, Jeongguk would have swam the entire ocean and walk through fire just to see Jimin smile.

3. You always think about them: check ✔

Of course, he always thought of Jimin. The first thing he thought of after waking up? Jimin. The last thing he thought of before going to sleep? Jimin. Be it day or night, it was always Jimin, Jimin and Jimin. He was now a permanent resident in Jeongguk’s mind.

4. You’re OK with the gross stuff: check ✔

Of course, wasn’t it obvious? He would have left Jimin all by himself that night in the bathroom, but instead, he chose to stay and sat with Jimin to ensure Jimin was okay.

5. You love their quirks: check ✔

Of course, he did. Jimin’s quirks were adorable and undeniably, made his heart skipped a beat. He initiated skinship a lot, which Jeongguk did not mind, but whenever he put his hand behind Jeongguk’s nape, his thumb would create patterns. This only made Jeongguk lean in closer, his body tingling with every gentle movement his thumb made. Even his need of constant praises was endearing that Jeongguk found himself spilling praises after praises just for Jimin.

No longer was Jeongguk annoyed with his boisterous – and wonderful, if Jeongguk might add – voice and his invasion of Jeongguk’s personal face.

(And that was because he craved listening to Jimin talk and touches.)

6. You find yourself always talking about them: check ✔

Of course, he would talk about Jimin, what else was there to talk about? He first noticed when Yoongi mentioned how Jeongguk could not stop prattling about Jimin this, Jimin that. It was not as if he could stop himself.

7. You reread their text message: check ✔

Of course, he would reread Jimin’s text messages. They were cute, always full of emojis and they instantly lifted Jeongguk’s mood even just a little. In fact, he had Jimin’s text pinned.

8. You lose track of time and no amount of time spent with them is ever enough: check ✔

Of course, he could not be bothered checking the time when he was with Jimin. Spending just a few minutes with Jimin was better than not seeing him at all but he found himself yearning to have Jimin’s presence when they were apart.

9. You’ll happily jump through hoops without even thinking about it to be with them: check ✔

Of course, he would do anything to spend time with Jimin. He went to the club for fuck’s sake. He drank the bitter ass coffee despite knowing how much he hated it because Jimin dared him to. He lied about passing through the Science building when he was actually waiting for Jimin’s class to be over.

In conclusion: of fucking course he was truly, utterly and madly in love with Jimin.

vii.

Jeongguk was aware that the pros of being in love with a friend outweigh the cons.

For starters, he saw Jimin almost every day and unlike his previous crushes, he actually interacted with Jimin properly. As his dumb ass only realised of the feelings he had for Jimin at the end of the semester, he had to rack his brains to find out reasons to hang out with Jimin. It was easier on his part, as Jimin was friendly, so most of the time it was Jimin who invited him out.

Besides, being friends meant he was able to hold Jimin’s hand without being suspicious. Jimin’s hands were soft and they fit perfectly with his. His fingers were delicate that Jeongguk was afraid he might break them if he held onto Jimin’s hand too tightly.

They became attached to the hip when they began texting nonstop every day and night. But midnights were probably Jeongguk’s favourite because there was just something about the quiet, knowing that there were more eyes closed than open, that they started to get to know each other on an entirely different level. Their usual banters and meme exchange would transition to their deep thoughts and stories. Midnight conversations seemed to hold more weight, and knowing that Jimin chose to stay up to talk to him made him want to steal all the stars and gifted them to Jimin.

Jeongguk was the type to let his phone battery died before charging, but that habit was soon replaced by charging the device while texting Jimin.

But the cons of being in love with your friend? They’re your friend.

Jeongguk had never fall for a friend before, but he knew it had to be one of the worst things to experience. He was plagued with worries and anxious thoughts, always wondering if he was being way too obvious or if he seemed uninterested. To say that he would not want Jimin as a boyfriend would probably the biggest lie he ever told himself and Yoongi hyung.

“You should tell Jimin.”

“Hyung!” Jeongguk whined, hand slapping Yoongi’s arm playfully. “You know I can’t.”

As much as he wanted to, he could not. It was risky and Jimin probably only regard him as a friend. The shittiest thing about crushing on Jimin was how it made Jeongguk kept on dancing between the lines of wanting the whole world to know his humongous love for Jimin and losing Jimin. There was no doubt that Jimin was now one of the important people in Jeongguk’s life, and he could not simply bear the thought of losing Jimin simply because he could not control his feelings.

“If there’s one thing I learnt, Jeongguk, is that you either tell Jimin how you feel and the worst case scenario is that you fucked up, maybe you’ll lose what you have with him now, but from the stories I’ve heard, Jimin’s nice and he might still want to be friends,” Yoongi said, his demeanour completely changed. Jeongguk only stared at Yoongi, mind conjuring up images of Jimin rejecting him and it made him shudder.

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi continued, “Or you can say nothing, and it’ll fuck you up instead. Not gonna fucking lie, eventually you’ll lose him too. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll end up avoiding him, which in turn, would hurt the both of you.”

Jeongguk gawked at him.

Yoongi hyung was right. And he would not give Yoongi hyung the satisfaction of him admitting that.

viii.

✉ From: Jimin remember that night when i hurled and you stayed by my side?

✉ To: Jimin how can i not the smell still lingered til this day :p

✉ From: Jimin fuck you ajsnsjs well i was going thru a ~difficult~ time sometimes i felt like out of place and that it’s my fault for the delay of testing the hosting but you guys were amazing, i am eternally grateful my other assignments were also a pain in the ass and i did not get along with my other teammates to add salt to the wound, i broke up with my boyfriend

✉ To: Jimin holy shit i have no idea & please jimin, it’s NOT ur fault. besides, we finished everything on time ur teammates is missing out & ur better off without ur boyfriend!!!! don’t be so hard on urself :(

✉ From: Jimin you make me tear up :”) thank you for staying by my side, jeongguk. i love you <3

ix.

Jimin had a boyfriend before, which was not surprising really, because who would not want to date Jimin? But hearing it from Jimin himself, Jeongguk could not help but felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. Sure, they were no longer together, but Jeongguk would still like to know who was the bastard who dared to hurt Jimin.

After tossing and turning for weeks, Jeongguk decided that he would confess once and for all.

They did not share any classes on the following semester, but they would still make time for each other. Spending more time with Jimin was both a blessing and a curse, it was as though he owned the world and yet his heart just kept on growing and growing in his chest, threatening to spill all his love for Jimin in the form of kisses and ‘I love you’s.

Most of the fanfictions he read had amazing yet unrealistic (for him to execute, yeah) confession scenes. There was one of Tony and Steve arguing and Tony ended it by accidentally saying that he loved Steve. It was cute, but Jeongguk and Jimin were not exactly enemies to lovers.

(Except that, in Jeongguk’s head, they kind of were. Although, the hatred was only one-sided.)

But Jeongguk knew for sure that he would not want to let Jimin know through text. There were a lot of memorable texts in their chat, and he would not want to feel upset when he scrolled through them in the future to find the texts of Jimin rejecting him amidst of it.

“You’re an idiot,” Yoongi voiced out as he stirred his ramen with the wooden chopsticks.

Offended, Jeongguk scoffed as he crossed his arms, glaring at Yoongi from where he was sitting. Yoongi ignored the daggers Jeongguk was throwing, instead he slurped the noodles.

“You’re the idiot,” Jeongguk countered childishly.

Yoongi licked his lips before he avowed, “You’re thinking too much. It should feel natural. You have to mean it, show him that you are serious.”

“You mean like… take him out on a fancy dinner or?”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. You can just text him right now, say that you wanna be more than friends, and that’s it.”

“Huh. How did you confess to Seokjin hyung then?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I didn’t. He did.”

When it happened, Jeongguk was not planning on it at all. They were having their usual midnight conversations again, and when the conversation seemed to shift into something less serious, Jeongguk had the urge to tell Jimin how much he meant to Jeongguk. He was driven to do so when Jimin ended his text with his usual ‘i love you <3’ that Jeongguk knew it was just a habit of his.

Gathering his courage, he asked:

✉ To: Jimin hey jimin can i call you?

Barely five seconds passed and yet Jeongguk was already sweating buckets. He was convinced that Jimin would not want to, maybe he had a feeling that this was about to happen and Jimin chose to turn off his phone. He saw the speech bubble, indicating that Jimin was typing, and he did not give Jimin the chance to send his text because he abruptly pressed on the green button.

It only took him one ring for Jimin to answer. As soon as he heard Jimin’s raspy, “Hello,” from the other line, his brain chose to empty all his thoughts. His mouth was drying, desperately trying to find the right words so he would not sound like a creep.

“I love you,” he blurted out.

Jimin let out a giggle before answering, “I love you too.”

“No, no, I mean,” he licked his lips, gripping on his phone even tighter. “I love you like I love love you. I love you as in I would drive you to the moon. I love you as in I wanna hold your hand and never let it go. I love you as in I would bring you breakfast in bed, if you’d let me. I love you as in—” he took a deep breath, internally wincing at how his voice was so shaky, courtesy of his heart hammering wildly against his chest, “— I only watched Frozen despite hating it because it was with you, and that is better than not spending a few minutes without you.”

“Oh.”

Jeongguk could not tell what Jimin was feeling from the tone of his voice.

Disappointed? Congratulations, Jeon Jeongguk, you just ruined a friendship that could’ve lasted a lifetime.

Angry? Jeon Jeongguk, you dumbass, why the fuck do you have to go and develop feelings?

Jeongguk wanted to throw his phone to the nearest wall, the silence from the other line was suffocating him. He was certain that he had just ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him. This was what he got for listening to Yoongi hyung again. Confess, he said. It won’t be that bad, he said.

“Jeongguk, I—”

I’m sorry. I can’t. We’re just friends.

Jeongguk screwed his eyes shut, biting his lower lips. He waited for the rejection to hit him like a punch. It was inevitable after all.

“— I’m glad. I’m glad you feel the same way.”

“Eh?” Jeongguk blinked, straightening his back. Were his ears defying him?

He heard Jimin huffed a weak laugh. “I love you too, love as in when I close my eyes, all I see is you.”

“Oh.” Warmth and embarrassment flooded through Jeongguk at once. He cleared his throat. “Well, okay, then. I’m gonna hang up.”

“Wait! You’re gonna hang up on me? After I confess my love for you?”

He could see Jimin slyly grinning now, probably enjoying the situation more than he should. Jeongguk chortled, “What else do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know…” Jimin sighed, but he was unmistakably smiling. “Maybe you can ask me out?”

“Hm,” Jeongguk pretended to ponder, his heart swelling. His hands were shaking and the drowsiness he felt earlier subsided, swapped by the sudden surge of happiness he felt in his veins. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Jimin giggled again, causing Jeongguk to bit his lower lip to tamper the smile that was threatening to take over.

“I’ll be waiting then.”

That night, Jeongguk did not sleep at all. How could he, when reality was finally better than his dreams?

xi.

“When did you know?” Jimin asked. He scooted closer to Jeongguk, resting his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

Jeongguk hummed, wrapping an arm around Jimin. “Know what?”

“Know that you’re in love with me,” Jimin whispered, sounding bashful as he nuzzled his nose against the crook of Jeongguk’s neck.

“Oh, that,” Jeongguk murmured. He twisted his lips to the side, slightly ashamed and reluctant to tell Jimin. “That night at the club.”

“Yuck!” Jimin giggled, reeling his head back in surprise before playfully hitting Jeongguk’s chest. “That night? I was on my worst, oh my god. I was puking, for God’s sake!”

Jeongguk laughed, shaking his head in embarrassment. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I had some feelings way before that but that night, I just knew, you know.”

Jimin scoffed. “Out of all times and places…”

“What about you?” Jeongguk asked, turning towards his boyfriend. “When did you know?”

“Did you know why I broke up with my ex back then?”

Jeongguk grimaced, he was not fond of Jimin’s exes. Up until now, he still had no idea who it was.

“Because, well, this is embarrassing. I had a crush on you. Initially, I thought it was dumb of me to throw away a relationship over something that was not certain. But that night, when you chose to comfort me and stayed by me, even when I was at my worst, that’s when I knew that I…” Jimin shifted his gaze elsewhere, pretending to be interested at the bowl on the coffee table. He reached out, grabbing the bowl and picked on the popcorns.

“Holy shit… at the same time? Really?”

Jimin shrugged, holding the bowl closer to him before he lifted Jeongguk’s arm to rest against his shoulders.

“You know,” Jeongguk mumbled before planting a kiss on the back of Jimin’s head. “We don’t have to watch this. I know you don’t like The Walking Dead.”

“’Course I don’t,” Jimin replied, munching on a popcorn. “But I’d watch this with you. I mean, it’s better than not spending a minute with you.”

“God, I hate you.”

Jeongguk knew Jimin would never miss the opportunity to make fun of Jeongguk’s confession, and although it was humiliating, a part of him was glad that Jimin did.

xii.

This was how Jeon Jeongguk’s wedding vow went:

“Jimin, I used to believe that I would hear bells when I first met my soulmate. Instead, all I heard was your deafening laughter in class, which now I have come to love. You are the kindest person I’ve ever met, you are gentle in everything you do and I think that’s the most beautiful thing a person can be.

Thank you for staying with me, for being by my side. Thank you for bringing sunshine and colours to my life, for always believing in me, for never giving up on me even after I accidentally ruined the ikea shelf. Thank you for giving me the best version of myself.

I promise to make you laugh when you’re taking yourself too seriously, to care for you and to have Disney marathon without skipping Frozen with you. I promise to love you unconditionally. You are the sunlight that rose again in my life, reincarnation of my childhood dreams, my soulmate.”

#jikook #kookmin #jikook fanfic #kookmin fanfic #kfk: oneshot

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lotusillustration · 5 years

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i know there’s a hnk tarot deck which i own and ADORE but here’s my take

I tried to keep this based off the rider-waite deck, but I’ve used some interpretations from my personal favourite deck too.

mobile users: I’m so fucking sorry

0. The Fool - Phosphophyllite Upright, The Fool represents new beginnings and innocence. It’s numbered 0 as it’s the beginning of the journey through the Arcana. The Fool encourages a free spirit and diving into the unknown. Reversed, The Fool represents being unprepared, taking too many risks. “What am I getting myself into?” could be an interpretation if you draw this card, and that you should reign back the once carefree energy.

I. The Magician - Euclase Upright, The Magician represents power and resourcefulness. To draw this card may mean that your current plans are in order, and ready to be acted upon. It represents clarity and focus. Reversed, The Magician means you may be unsure how to act upon a situation. To draw it may mean the universe wants to to reign back, and you’re out of touch with yourself.

II. The High Priestess - Lapis Lazuli The High Priestess signifies one’s subconcious mind, which constrasts The Magician’s focus on the concious mind. She represents that the world is not all it seems, and can be a fascination with higher powers, and unseen events. She essentially represents enlightenment and psychic insights.Reversed, she represents withdrawal and silence. She can represent manipulation, secrecy and hidden agendas - even when that knowledge should be shared.

III. The Empress - Red Beryl The Empress is a difficult card to explain to non-tarot users, as the “base” for her is femininity. In this sense, femininity is not being a feminine person, but rather represents traits such as creativity and connecting with your senses. The Empress sees beauty in all things. Reversed, The Empress may show you’re throwing yourself into your work too much. You may be neglecting your own needs. Red Beryl is the only gem who creates clothing for the gems - that’s their only purpose in life. Rx, The Empress suggests you take time for self love, enjoying beauty for oneself rather than the world around you.

IV. The Emporer - Kongo The Emporer is the perfect card to describe Kongo-sensei. In a literal sense, The Emporer represents a father figure. The Emporer is a strong, powerful man, who status and respect come naturally to him. He also represents a social system, a strict way of living, and order. He also signifies knowledge and expertise. I don’t to go too far past these literal meanings of The Emporer, since he already reflects Kongo perfectly. Reversed, however, he can represent a system that has too many strict rules. To pull The Emporer rx, you may be struggling with a person in power over you, you could be struggling where you’re the person in power and don’t know how to act. It could mean unhealthy and unequal relationships that, over time, become toxic.

V. The Hierophant - Yellow Diamond Upright, The Hierophant could show that oneself is seen as a mentor, the one who people look to for adivce, for teachings. He represents someone with strict family traditions, who will pass these traditions down generation to generation. The reversed Hierophant is a card that isn’t nessicarily bad, like many other rx cards. It may show you that you need to assess your own wants and needs, to teach yourself before others. It encourages one to really think about the world they live in, and challenge the status quo if deemed appropriate.

VI. The Lovers - Rutile Upright, The Lovers represent passion and how one chooses to interact with those around them. While it can represent a close one-on-one relationship, it can represent relationships in general. To go deeper, The Lovers represent one's personal values, and carrying out tasks that are most important, and making difficult descisions. To draw The Lovers, it is a sign that one should focus on self love first. Reversed is where this gets juicy. Reversed, the Lovers represents an imbalance in relationships, communication is difficult and ones values may change or no longer match. To pull The Lovers rx, you may be facing a difficult choice, perhaps with no perfect outcome. One may be having severe inner conflicts, unsure of current values, and disharmony within oneself. Interestingly, The Lovers rx are encouraged to seek out The Hierophant's advice.

VII. The Chariot - Cairngorm Upright, The Chariot shows determination and willpower, potentially for a specific project. Once one decides on their project, they will try, to no end, to complete it. Ignore those trying to block you, move forward. In an incredibly literal sense, The Chariot can represent moving from one place to another Inversed, however, The Chariot is a warning to stop. Your plan is failing, you may have lost motivation. You're focused too much on yourself, and ignoring your Higher Self and what the Universe wants for you. You may find yourself controlled by another person, or controlled by your own thoughts in a negative way.

VIII. Strength - Diamond & Bortz Strength is often depicted with an image of a ferocious lion, being tamed by a gentle woman (in my deck, it depicts the constellation Leo). Upright, Strength represents raw power, internally (this contrasts to the external powers of The Chariot). To draw Strengh, it shows that you have a lot of raw energy and, well, strength, However, you need to control, or “tame” this raw energy, which is why I’ve included Dia. Strength reversed may better depict Dia, to draw it means you’re full of self doubt, unsure of your power and overall lacking in self confidence. As a side note, Strength rx can also depict explosive anger.

IX. - The Hermit - Cinnabar I'll start with the inverse Hermit for this one. Inverse, The Hermit represents taking too much time to yourself, hiding away, and ignoring the Higher Self. In a relationship sense, one might be withdrawing aggressively, despite the reaching out of another. Upright, The Hermit is representative of a more healthy self reflection - stepping back from "real life" to focus on yourself for a little. Upright, The Hermit appears at a pivotal point in one's life, an important changing point. At this point, one may need to stop withdrawing in order for personal growth. Priorities and understanding of the Higher Self may be deeply improved, and one may move away from an unhelpful society.

X. The Wheel of Fortune - Ventricosus The main reason I selected an Admirabilis for the Wheel of Fortune is that this card can represent the fleetingness of life. Upright, the Wheel of Fortune represents rapid change and the cycle of life. The Admirabilis are the only species in the series with a “regular” lifespan, and their society behaves as such. The Wheel of Fortune can also relate to karma and lovingness. For the Gems and Lunarians - the world is not in a state of constant change, while the Admirabilis live and die. To draw the Wheel of Fortune, one may have a difficult choice on their plate and urgency to change. The Wheel of Fortune urges one to believe in the Universe’s plan, and may represent critical turning points in life. To draw the Wheel of Fortune reversed asks you to step back from taking matters you shouldn’t into your own hands, and can flip the balance of your Higher Self. In order for good karma to come back to you, you must accept responsibilty for your wrongdoings.

XI. Justice - Jade Justice, of course, represents justice. Digging deeper, though, it represents one's alignment with the Higher Self and how one interacts with others. Justice tried to keep others in order, possibly even trying to distract from the negative in the world. Justice is a search for the truth, despite adversity. Reversed, Justice can reflect your inner self, and not believing in a choice you've made, or been forced to make. One may be at conflict with themself due to actions they've taken, or even unwilling to take accountability for the poor choices one has made. Justice rx can also represent a severe inner critic, or, again, facing a descision with no truly "good" outcome.

XII. The Hanged Man - Benito The Hanged Man represents taking a break, a step back to assess your situation. Thing is: these pauses may be voluntary or involuntary. The Universe may be at play, allowing you time to take a break, reassess yourself and your life. He can also represent feeling "stuck" with oneself. Reversed, The Hanged Man can show a resistance to change, filling your life with distraction, ignoring the real issues. Inversely, The Hanged Man rx could mean your life is already on pause, and has been for a long time. One could be frustrated by this, wanting to live again. Benito feels “boring” or “normal”, but this is one of the most positive traits a gem can have.

XIII. Death - Morganite & Goshenite (both old and new) Death upright can mean sudden, unexpected change, and as a whole the card represents death, rebirth, transformation and transition. The deaths of the original Morga and Goshe were sudden, unexpected - but needed. To throw in a headcanon, I believe they chose to die together - opening death with open arms - which is a very literal interpretation of the card. The birth of new Morga and Goshe also came as a shock, restarting the cycle of the beryl-class gems. Inversed, Death represents a need for change, a need for a restart and a need for deeply meaningful change. To draw Death rx, the card offers one a chance to restart, be reborn, on their own terms. The card can often also mean one is going through a massive personal transformation, and often requires a follow up card to be drawn for context.

XIV. Temperance - Red Diamond To draw Temperance (upright) enourages one to bring more balance to your life, and take the middle road. Red Diamond was the first Gem, the one who started it all, and the one who gave Kongo a new purpose in “life”. Temperance is all about changing, combining and mixing one’s life - Kongo and Red had to mix their traits to create a space for themselves and the future Gems to live. Temperance inverse isn’t quite the opposite, and rather signifies the end of a time period - to keep the balance in order, To draw Temperance rx one should evaluate themself and the life they’ve lived, and try to restore the balance. Perhaps, Red Diamond’s death was all part of the balance.

XV. The Devil - Aechmea I did initially want to not be generic and not assign The Devil to Aechmea, but it really fits him more than anyone. The Devil is deeply representitive of the Shadow Self, and could certainly be related to the cardinal sins. To draw The Devil it may represent that you’re controlled by your impulses; greed, lust, etc. It represents addiction and obsession, as well as close personal bonds that are still in the “honeymoon phase” To draw The Devil reversed, it urges you to let go of unhealthy obsessions, addictions, and sins in order to reach the Higher Self. Obviously, this can be taken quite literally for Aechmea.

XVI. The Tower - Alexandrite The Tower is representative of change and disaster. In most cards, it’s depicted as a tower - a stable structure - built on the top of a small clifface, indicating that it’s fall is near. One bolt of lightning hits the tower, and it falls. The Tower is another card that represents change, however it’s change is one of chaos and violence. You might pull The Tower if you’re experiencing trauma or massive, chaotic change. The best way to cope with The Tower’s symbolism is simply to let it fall, so you can rebuild and start anew. To pull The Tower inverse, the chaotic energy is caused by an internal trigger, rather than external. You may also be resisting change, which makes the inevitable change even worse.

XVII. The Star - Ghost Quartz Again, I’ll start with the reversed meaning. The Star reversed is a symbol of loss of hope, overwhelmingness and may test your faith in the Universe. It represents one who was once full of hope, and had it all crashing down upon you. Upright, The Star follows The Tower, and is the glimmer of hope in the aftermath. The Star upright symbolises coming to terms with yourself and the future. The main symbol of The Star is hope, and rediscovering your sense of meaning (such as Ghost gaining more purpose upon being paired with Phos) XVIII. The Moon - Zircon The Moon represents fear and illusion, which I think fits Zircon well, being tossed around between partners and feeling inadequete. Fears from the past become projected into the future, and descision making becomes hard. The Moon should ask for advice from The Empress, as they may be losing touch with their “femininity”. Interestingly, The Moon is often depicted with two towers in the image, still coping from the stress of The Tower. Reversed, The Moon often means these insecurities are beginning to fade, and one is able to put their fears aside. One may also be recieving messages from the Universe, but unable to quite comprehend them. XIX. The Sun - Watermelon Tourmaline The upright and reversed meanings of The Sun are quite similar. Upright, it is indicative of success and happiness, while inverse it can indicate one’s inner child. We know that Melon is a younger Gem, and with recent parts of the manga we can see how their “inner child” has been warped and manipulated. The Sun can represent a longing for an easier time, a time in one’s life where they felt more carefree and happy.

XX. Judgement - Diamond, Yellow Diamond, Alexandrite, Amethyst 84, New Goshenite (think I got them all - the Gems currently on the moon) Judgement can definitely tell a bit of a story about the Gems on the moon. Upright, the card is indicative of new hopes and life-changing descisions. To draw Judgement upright, a pivotal life event could be on the horizon. Reversed Judgement, however, indicates self doubt, fear, and regrets. When one pulls judgement, they may be ignoring a descision that needs to be made. Getting too comfortable in putting off the descision can become dangerous. (side note: I just noticed some lotus root symbolism in my personal card)

XXI. The World - Phosphophyllite, Euclase I didn’t particularly want to reuse characters so much, but these two fit in for The World perfectly. For Phos, the story started with them, and should end with them. For Euclase - the figure depicted in The Magician is the same as the figure depicted in The World, The Magician has reached their enlightenment. To draw The World, upright, is to show that one’s journey is near completion. Euclase is the last character Gem to be worried about Phos, to even remember them. For Phos, their determination to finish what they started may be nearing it’s end. Reversed, The World is about seeking closure. Perhaps one is seeking out shortcuts rather than completing the task. It represents nearing closure, but some sort of barrier being in the way.

anyway thanks 4 coming 2 my ted talk if u actually read it

#mine #this is probably gibberish

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