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chaedomi · 7 months

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AGRICHE TO PEDELIAN

SUMMARY . flowers don't attract butterflies alone. suddenly, others are gravitating to you, expanding your long list of obsessive admirers. pt. 1

CHARACTERS . THE BLUE PEDELIAN

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, kidnapping, mild injury, implied violence, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 2.4k+ / MASTERLIST.

HOW DID it end up like this? It all happened in the span of one night while you were asleep. And when you reopened your eyes, you quickly discovered that you were no longer inside your bedroom. You had time to explore every place in your manor, so when you couldn’t identify which part of the manor you were in, you began to panic and overthink.

Your distress got worse when a silver-haired female burst into the room and grabbed you into a hug as if there wasn’t some problem with this. At this point, you began to cry, fully convinced that you were kidnapped, pushing the woman away from you, and startling her. It was in chaos for a while, your screams mixing with your words as you wailed for your freedom. The woman tried to reassure you with sweet words, inclusive of the maids present who stepped in to assist by dangling pretty jewelry in front of your face to distract you.

Unfortunately, their efforts to appease you only increased your wails. When a masculine figure barged into the room this time, it was only then you stopped crying, in favor of blinking at him while the stray tears fell from the corner of your eyes. Staring at the male, you knew he looked familiar, your panicked mind just couldn’t identify who.

When he approached you with a gentle smile, patted your head, and began this monologue of ‘protecting’ you, you finally put the pieces together; this male was no other than the heir of The Blue Pedelian, CASSIS. Oh, boy…

In truth, your kidnapping was all ROXANA's fault, and she had no choice but to admit that. God forbid if her family found out that she was the whole reason for your disappearance, it would even make her kind-hearted mother hold some form of grudge against her and result in her execution. Luckily, no one was able to trace the doings back to her… except her red-eyed freak of an older brother.

Satisfying her curiosity was not worth it. As they say, it killed the cat. Now, she was stuck reaping the consequences of her stupidity; distraught over your disappearance, and additional work that could have been avoided, in her plan.

…If her life didn't depend on his, you bet she would have already retaliated without mercy. How foolish, she gave him an inch and he took a mile.

But, who is to blame other than herself? To explain, it was a fleeting thought that crossed her mind one morning to which she initially paid no mind… till it stubbornly stuck inside her brain. From what she remembered, in The Abysmal Flower, Sylvia displayed extreme and obsessive feelings toward you, despite being the enemy, willing to risk her safety to keep you by her side. Due to her intervention, however, Sylvia remained out of the picture. Still, she began to wonder.

If Sylvia wasn’t immune to your adorable charms, could it possibly be the same for Cassis? And thus, it marked the beginning of her little experiment. It came as no surprise to her that Cassis was on guard when she first introduced you to him. After all, almost every Agriche child was a demon spawn.

Regardless of the precautions Cassis took, his guard quickly crumbled once he was exposed to your innocence and purity, much to Roxana’s amusement. His hostile attitude quickly evaporated, he even held you on his lap (with Roxana’s permission), reciting stories that would intrigue a child your age. …She wished he was that cooperative with her as well.

She continued this pattern for a few weeks… every day, she would spare some time to take you to Cassis and observe how it played out in the distance. And each time, it never failed to entertain her. A righteous and kept man like him becomes nothing more than a slave for a child, an enemy’s child. She was long satisfied with her discovery, it’s just that Cassis was always in a better mood and more willing to listen after he spent his time with you.

But the day Cassis got too comfortable and had the guts to refer to you as one of his SIBLINGS, she realized, she may have spoiled him too much. She never had a problem when Sylvia referred to you as her ‘little sister.’ However, that was BEFORE she was thrown into the novel world. Now that she had the opportunity to experience your kindness herself, anyone who tried to make their claim on you outside the family is nothing LESS aggravating. And that was the end of your little visits.

That’s when it went downhill. Of course, Cassis was quick to pick up on your sudden absence throughout the days. He tried to ask, but once Roxana's tone progressively got more aggressive the longer he persisted, he finally got the hint. He wasn't seeing you again.

Roxana was grateful that Cassis had shut his mouth after a while. But, she found it odd how compliant he remained without your presence. More so, she hated the way he stared at her, a hidden intent she couldn't figure out in his eyes. It intensified when she gave him a map of the manor, a faint sighting of a smirk ghosting his lips. …Out of all people, Roxana would have never expected Cassis to kidnap someone. Trust no one, as they say. What an arse… Repaying her good deeds with this.

And so, the manor of The Black Agriche was thrown into a frenzy, having lost something very precious. Unless Roxana wanted to stir more trouble with hasty actions, she must sit quietly for now. …At the very least she didn’t need to worry about your safety. Unlike The Black Agriche, The Blue Pedelian will never torture their captives, let alone a young child like you…

Meanwhile, you were having your own crisis. This was a very drastic change. Although the violent nature of your family often terrifies you, you have grown used to it… kind of. Now, with the serene environment of The Blue Pedelians, you've grown antsy, anticipating some form of chaos to arise.

Ignoring how he took you without your agreement (no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions in a good light), you felt more comfortable being around CASSIS than the rest of the family. You weren’t sure if the times spent together back in your manor contributed to your lack of fear around him or relieved over the fact that your situation could have been very worse, and you didn’t care all that much. Cassis's attitude toward you didn’t change from when he was held prisoner, instead, his doting habits only increased now that his actions were not limited and monitored. He spoils you a lot, more than he spoils his younger sister. He will try his hardest to provide whatever you want, as long as it stays within the 'reasonable' range.

And by 'reasonable' he means, stop asking him to return you home. Suddenly, he understood Roxana's frustration. Is this what she felt when he continuously persisted? He doesn't get why you would want to return home out of all places; your family is vile.

It's not like you wanted to return, you had to. Although you wished to run away and never return, the odds were still not in your favor for you to make your escape plan. Something also told you that residing in The Blue Pedelian Manor was its own kind of hell…

The possible feud that can brew if your whereabouts were revealed made your skin crawl with fear. Knowing your value between the two families as well, you would be caught in the crossfire, and who knows what would happen to you then… You were trying to make things better for you, not destroy all your chances.

Cassis still didn't listen to your concerns (he never does), shutting down your complaints with a stern glare. …You just hope whatever war was to break out, it would happen later rather than sooner…

Just what was wrong with you? He’s trying his hardest to get you accustomed to your new surroundings, spoiling you with gifts, spending time with you along with his sister, anything to put you at ease. Yet, you just didn’t care! All you did was flush his efforts down the drain. He thought he was making progress with you, so he would never expected it, hell, even imagined it. But, when he caught you creeping around the exit gates, your freaked-out expression said it all. Now, here you were, leg chained to the bedpost back inside your prison-like bedroom. Seeing you chained up reminded him of himself, and it was interesting to see the roles switch to some extent. Truthfully, your tears pained him, but, he didn’t see the point in you crying. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he wished that you’d stop acting as if he was.

"Why can’t you understand that this is for your benefit?"

Oh? SYLVIA adores you? Why, that's no secret and is obvious to anyone who witnesses the interaction between you and her. Why wouldn't she love you!? You're everything she ever wanted in a younger sister… well, minus the looks, but, she can get past that!

MORE doting than Cassis, it's overbearing, honestly. Ever since your first encounter, you don't remember a time when you were left alone; it's always some lousy excuse to be around you. She hugs, kisses, cuddles, squishes, and any affectionate gesture she can think of, she does it to you. It was like she was trying to merge herself with you.

Honestly, her compassion spooked you. Her behavior reminded you a lot of your second stepmother, Maria. So, you weren't surprised when she had some hostile reaction whenever a maid would unintentionally interrupt your 'bonding' time. The sweeter they are, the more aggressive. Well, at least there weren't any dead bodies scattered on the ground…

Have you ever been so upset that you began to cry? Sylvia is a perfect demonstration of that. Perhaps you were right to compare her to Maria, the rage evident on her face was akin to the deadly glare your stepmother wore when she was furious. Flashbacks clouded your mind of how Maria snapped when a servant accidentally spilled milk on your gown. This situation was much different; a maid somehow cut your hand with the teacup. The one time Sylvia thought it was a good idea to let you get some fresh air outside your room, the fun atmosphere was ruined by something silly as this. It’s no surprise if your family lashed out, but to see a sophisticated woman such as Sylvia spew out words of profanity and behave so hostile was unexpected. At the very least, you appreciated she held back for your sake. With the way her hands shook with rage the longer she chewed out the maid, you had the impression Sylvia wanted to do much more than a stern talking to.

“There you are! I looked for you everywhere. I was beginning to worry that you’ve run away, but, you won’t do that to me, right?”

Your fear of RISCHEL was reasonable. Given his position inside his household, you two never met that often. However, the rare times you do meet, his piercing gaze never fails to make you shrink back on yourself. If you think about it, his hateful attitude made sense. You were one of the many offsprings of his biggest enemy, Lante, and said enemy kidnapped his son and tormented him mercilessly. Some of his son’s many torturers included Lante’s children, so you could just imagine the many scenarios that went through his mind. You don’t blame him if he was tempted to torment you, solely for Lante having a taste of his own medicine.

While Rischel’s expression came across as wanting to bury you six feet under, in truth, he was very much intrigued by your existence. It was confusing to see his son return with an unconscious child after escaping. And for a moment he feared that his son went mad when the child held in his arms was an Agriche and pleaded for your protection.

He was hesitant (for good reason) but ultimately agreed in the end. If his son saw something valuable in you, then there must be some worth in keeping you around. However, it didn’t mean he automatically trusted you. Without your knowledge, he monitored you, planting eyes everywhere. Any suspicious activity he was informed of would be enough validation for him to throw you out with no hesitation.

…So how exactly did his wariness morph into overwhelming softness toward you? (like father like son) The feeling just dawned upon him and he noticed it all: your mannerisms, your innocence, it slowly rubbed on him in a positive light. This was strange. He wonders if you had used a spell on him, no one should fall under anyone’s whims so suddenly as if you possessed this charm that melts even the hearts of the cold-blooded. But, oh, did the feeling around you feel so nice. And soon, he simply gave in to the desire to love you and protect you.

You realized how much more tolerable he became of your presence, to your relief. Even so, the feelings you saw on the outside couldn’t begin to compare to the rapidly developing obsessive feelings he harbored for you. And by the time you began to pick up on the dangerous signals, the damage was already done.

You were beyond speechless when you looked into the reflection of the mirror, staring at someone else entirely. Her hair was a shade of pure silver, and her eyes resembled the golden rays of the sun. As you reached your hand out to touch the glass, your body froze as reality sunk in. This was not another person, but rather you, with a new appearance and identity you were forced to carry. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at the faces of Rischel, Cassis, and Sylvia, hoping for all of this to be one big joke. But, the pleased glances they returned alerted you that this situation was far from a joke, and you had to accept your new fate.

“Sylvia was correct. This look suits you perfectly.”

You were stressed and rightfully so. How could all of this happen? And why did it have to be you? You were still young and didn’t deserve to deal with these problems. In such a short amount of time, along with new obsessors formed, you temporarily resigned to a new lifestyle, switching from agriche to pedelian.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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kaybreezy3000 · 4 months

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In The Flesh

Five Hargreeves / Reader Insert

Imagine that Five wasn't alone the entire time he was in the apocalypse...

-This is a special reader request for an extended scene from my Five Centric fanfic 'The Anti Hero's Pitfall of Arrogance.' Set during the apocalypse and Five is only 21.

-This request is a bit of a spoiler alert to the story that inspired it. It's written with a non-descript female character with no name, only referred to as she or her, so it's sort of a reader insert/you sort of vibe, or you can think of it as simply someone that Five loved. Think of it as you or someone else, either way, it's sad. 😭

Heed the warnings and click the link in the summary to read the full story if you want to get the full picture of what led up to this very sad moment for our favorite guy.

Warning: possible triggers, suicidal thoughts/behavior issues, alcohol abuse/excessive drinking, extreme grief/loss, graphic description of death/corpse, we get some Dolores in this, meant to be very sad, this fic this is based on is not all gloom and doom but it's clearly not all pretty either.

(5312 words)

In The Flesh

The funny thing about rock bottom is I’d thought I’d hit it many times before she saved me but really there is no depth far enough down to describe where I was after finding her body and where I would be for a very long time after that.

Like I’d done every day since I saw her favorite baseball cap bobbing on that partially submerged branch stuck out in the depths of the churning flood waters, I was out looking for her. On my endless searches, I would yell her name, over and over, till my voice was nothing more than a pained screech of air.

It was as I was scouring a new area that the water had receded that I went to shout her name again but stopped with only the first faint syllable.

The moment I saw her distinctly colorful sandal and what appeared to be the discolored fragments of flesh still clinging to the bones trapped in it, the wind shifted, and my nostrils were filled with a pungent, sickeningly sweet, earthy odor.

That is what the smell of death is like if a body has been exposed to the elements for ten days or more. The anatomy and physiology decomposition literature states, a body exposed to the elements begins to decompose within less than 1 hour postmortem. That rate is accelerated if the tissues are exposed to other factors such blunt force trauma or heat and moisture.

She had been exposed to all of it.

I could still hear the ominous sound of the huge trees snapping and boulders grinding over things in the swift current as I walked along the road, just hours after she’d gone, only then, I didn’t know she wasn’t coming back. I didn’t know what was being done to her.

Now her body was there, under the hardened soil, but her foot was the only part of her that was visible other than her twisted tangle of hair wrapped around a river beaten branch.

For the last week I’d been lying to myself, trying to hang on to the idea that she was still out there, that she was just too mad at me to come home. But really, in that time, she’d been first submerged in the torrents of flood water decimating that landscape, and then after, (not long based on the murky pool of muck and the very small cracks in the clay at my feet), she’d been there, encased in the ground.

I cried out her name.

I dropped the stick I’d been using to poke and prod the underbrush, my body instantly disappearing for a fraction of a second into the snapping vacuum of my portal. Stepping out of it a few yards away, I fell to my knees, my trembling hands not knowing what to do or what was safe to touch. I moved to her foot, then pulled back as the tiny black flies that were startled by my presence flew up in an angry swarm.

The temperature since the day she disappeared had been colder but that had done nothing to prevent her rapid decay.

Entomology and Body Decomp 101: A decomposing body will attract all manner of life forms within 24 after death. If allowed access, scavengers are ruthless in their pursuit of the flesh of the dead.

Having been well read prior to my time in the apocalypse and being well acquainted with death in the years before this, I was still not prepared for what I saw or had to go through over the next several hours it took to free her.

Her body was no longer her anymore, but I couldn't accept that. My mind told me she was under there and she was so scared.

Frantically, I started digging with my bare hands. No matter how careful I was clawing at the clay that had molded her in the ground, anytime my fingers came close to her, they crushed her slick, wet remnants of flesh, tearing it through.

At this point, she had surpassed the early stages of decomposition. Gone was the bloating. The gases and liquids had mostly expelled, and her skeleton was letting go of her skin, though in some areas it remained in denser sections that were identifiable but mostly because her clothes had embedded in her. Her jean shorts made clear where her abdomen was, what was left of her chest was now part of her t-shirt.

What I was seeing and touching and smelling made my stomach heave over and over but still I had to save her.

She had needed me, and I wasn’t there.

Stage 4 post-decay lacks some of the first levels of putridity, but even though I had seen hundreds of thousands of faces of death, seeing hers will always represent the loss of everything; even more so than the day I’d foolishly ran into the future, lost my family, and found I couldn’t get back.

“No, no, no,” I sobbed, my filthy, bloodied fingertips inching along her face, or what should have been her face. “I am so sorry… Please! No! God, please!”

The mouth I had cherished was gaping, her once perfect teeth were more exposed than they should have been due to the skin around them receding or simply just not being there at all.

Her eyes…

Where once someone had looked back at me with so much love and endless understanding, now there was horror, both mine and hers.

Sickness took me again.

Dizzy, I frantically scrambled back, away from where I had unearthed most of her, my stomach emptied, but nothing but acid spilled onto the scattering of broken foliage off to my side.

My ears were filled with the evil buzzing sound of insects that were warming themselves in the open area around us as the sun relentlessly beat down.

I couldn’t take it.

A feral sound of pure agony crawled out of my chest, getting eaten away by all the nothingness.

“Please, I am so sorry… Please forgive me, I never meant for…”

She wouldn’t except my words and I couldn’t blame her.

My broken cries were lost in my delirium. On hands and knees, I came back to her, lifting her to me even though I shouldn’t have.

The gruesome sound of parts of her stickily pulling free from the ground and the sight of the parts of her that remained in the soil were enough to fracture what was left of my sanity.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, we can go home now,” I shushed her, in my head believing I had the ability to soothe her pain.

She still said nothing, and I told myself it was because she was just too weak.

She just needed my help. She was just mad. She was just…

“You are safe now,” I said, my hand sinking into her, her spinal column hitting my palm not even enough to shock me back into reality.

After cradling her for far too long, I said, “I am not leaving you here.”

Lightly as possible, I let my shaking hand touch her hair, seeing but not acknowledging that it was starting to detach from her scalp. Without thinking, I forced the massive amounts of energy I needed for a jump, the blue power expanding from my hands, then around us.

I only took us across the drying riverbed, up the steep embankment and up the hill to where the road hadn’t been washed out, and that was far, but it was not even close to getting us back to our cabin. For that, I had planned to teleport again and again, as many times as it took but when my feet smacked the ground the force of it made the tendons holding her right thigh to her hip give way and the length of her leg landed at my feet.

“Fuck!” I screamed, slamming to my knees to grab her.

Like a madman, I could at least put together that she was falling apart and that this wasn’t going to work. Even jumping with her was too much. She was so fragile; she’d always said she wasn’t, but she was…

“I am so-ssss-sorry,” my voice cracked as I carefully laid her down again.

The sight of those tiny black bugs as they fought to get a piece of the woman I loved, caused me to feel the burn of violent anger and that almost brought me to my senses, but even that too, I washed away with another imaginary idea, that if I just covered her, somehow all the severed openings that were now more her than anything else, would be spared from further ruin.

In a frenzy, I stripped off my shirt, covering her with it the best I could. The moment I was able to get to my feet again, I swayed, the world spun, but when it came back into focus, I could see again like lightning struck my head, brightening the gray world around me, making the colors of her bright sandals and her hair and the tattered remains of her clothing stand out in stark contrast to the deep darkened purple of her rotting body.

My filthy hand came up, rubbing my face and my blurred eyes, then my fingers tore back as I painfully yanked at my hair.

I had done this to her.

Sniffling and on the verge of a full screaming fit of rage, I turned and started making my way up the road, a few steps away, my hands coming together, my fingers like claws, I tried to gather the light in my hands to blink again, but instead I was met with the impotence of the faintest swirls of azure static crackling to life then fizzling out.

Turning back to the motionless pile on the ground, I again assured her I’d be back. Then in a haze, like a zombie on empty, I mindlessly made my way back, my mud-covered boots trudging up the steep hill, my balance faltering over and over as I’d tripped over the uneven surface.

If you ask me what I was thinking during that walk, I couldn't tell you. All I knew was that I was empty and that a horrible numbness was taking hold.

Even still, I came back fast, like I’d promised. First, I placed her in a thick blanket, sure to get every bit that was her that was there, anything that wasn’t, I never found.

“There,” I breathed, positioning her leg that had been torn off at the hip in such a way that looked less painful. Then flapping away any visible bugs from her, I covered her completely. Knowing that she was in the later stages of decomposition but that it was far from over and she was seeping fluids, I lifted her, and laid the cocoon of wool on top of a tarp.

I could have carried her the whole way but not wanting to hurt her or break her apart more than she already was, I only carried her to the cart I’d brought back with me, then I carefully laid her in.

Though she didn’t answer no matter how much I wanted her to, I spoke to her the whole way as I tugged the wagon with her in it up the hill.

Getting back to our home, the mud encrusted wheels clattered to a stop in the yard right next to the chair I had been sitting in the day we had gotten into our fight. It was dead silent and getting so dark by that point that the stars were coming out but as if in a time loop in hell, I could still hear the cruel things I’d said to her on that sunny morning.

Looking down at the small mound of blanket with her in it, I said, “You have to forgive me. I don’t know what to do without you. I don’t want to live with-”

My heart was racing, I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt a new tightness where before, since the hours after she’d gone and not come back, I’d only felt the stabbing pain of regret and fear, now it was like an aching void as if there were an actual hole inside me.

I stood there blankly staring at the door, then back to her, my mind not working at all but somehow still functioning enough to make the start of a string of very bad decisions.

Taking her up in my arms, we went inside. “We’re back. You're not alone anymore. I never meant to leave you out there like that. I tried so hard to find you,” I said, smothering my words against her wrap. “It’s okay now…we are okay…”

I kicked the door closed then I moved straight for our bed, and I would have laid her down in it and climbed right in if not for the fact that Dolores was sitting in the chair next to it, staring at me looking horrified.

‘No, Five, don’t!’

Saying nothing, I spun around to instead place the bundle in my arms on the couch in front of the fireplace. It wasn’t lit and it needed to be. That’s what she and I did at night. That was our other special place.

Memories of sitting there together, her behind me, reaching around to place my fingers correctly to play the chords she was trying to teach me filled my head. I could almost trick myself into thinking I could hear her beautiful playing and that I could hear her laugh at me every time I’d try to get out of my lessons.

“This is okay. I’ll fix this. We are going to be okay,” I said, as I started to unwrap her.

Dolores panicked at the sight in front of us. ‘Five, no. She’s gone. This isn’t right. What are you doing?”

I stopped, leaving her under wraps but I ignored Dolores’ s warning and started to light the fire.

Again, Dolores asked, ‘Five, what are you doing? She is dead. You can’t do this to yourself.’

“She’s not dead!” I shrieked, my eyes filling with welling tears as I clenched my hands, my broken fingernails slicing half-moons into the flesh of my dirty palms.

‘I am sorry, Five, but she is. You knew that after she didn’t come back.”

My head turned back and forth as I shook away a flood of tears threatening to come out and drown me like the water had done to all that I loved. I pinched my eyes shut, a broken whimper squeaking out of my throat.

‘Look at yourself, Five… You are not okay. That is why she can’t stay here. I love her too, but she is gone.’

I opened my eyes and looked at myself. I had no shirt on, my body was covered in mud and death.

The smell of me…

The smell of her poor body…

‘You need to bury her. She wouldn’t want this.’

“No,” I whispered as my body trembled and I stared blankly at the floor. “No,” I said again, then screamed, “Stop!!!! Just stop! Don’t you fucking talk to me! I didn’t ask for your help! It didn’t ask for any of this!”

Refusing to look up and see the hurt on Dolores’s face, I looked to the motionless pile of fleece blanket.

“I am not putting you out there all alone again, sweetheart.”

With that affirmation, and me placing a kiss to her covered face, the night did not get better.

In the light of the fire, I sat there on the floor in front of the couch as close to her as I could be without touching her. I wanted to protect her. I needed to keep my promise that I wasn’t going to leave her.

So many times, she and I had discussed the possibility of me being able to jump back in time and the fact that doing so with her was going to make it all the harder for me to pull off. Even with the right math, and just me, the energy needed to do it was something I hadn’t figured out how to achieve. Even though she had said that me getting back was all that mattered, I refused to consider leaving without her.

I couldn’t leave her, not then and not now; that was what I kept telling myself.

Sometime late into the night, slumped against the plaid couch, my head resting near hers though she remained covered, my demented and wrong train of thoughts slipped away, and sleep took me but in it l found no solace.

~~~

As I came to in the early hours of the next morning with my body crumbled on the cold floor, I knew instantly that everything I wanted to believe was okay was not.

The dimly lit cabin smelled of death and I was graced with the buzzing sound of a half a dozen or more flies that had found their way in somehow in the tiniest of cracks.

The decay had been clinging to me since I found her, but I refused to acknowledge it even as the putrid odor only added to my ongoing nausea. I clumsily reached for the stale glass of water I’d left at some point on the end table. Drinking it burned my cracked lips and the taste of it felt laced with a bitter acid. I wanted to retch but managed to refrain.

Then, wanting to remain living in the land of make believe, I got up, went to our small kitchen area, and proceeded to grab several bottles of liquor.

Dropping down next to her again, I twisted a cap, sloshing the clear liquid as I tipped it back, dumping the alcohol down my raw throat.

It was awful but that was not the only time I’d drank to forget, or that I’d drank things that were questionable in their quality.

“Remember when we found that stash of cheap wine with the seals broken,” I quietly asked.

I took a long pull at the bottle, then another as I peered over my shoulder at her laying there on under her favorite blanket.

“Smarter than me as always, you refused to drink any of it, but not me… Stupid as always, I gave it a try and boy did I pay for it. You had to baby me for the entire next day. God, I am such a lightweight. I’d be dead if not for you.”

I laughed, the sound of it thick with irony.

“You were always so good to me…”

Eyeing the dried mud and smears of her flesh on my pants, my eyes blurred.

“I didn’t deserve you and you didn’t deserve this.”

I started to cry. Then I started to hyperventilate, my breaths coming too fast and my head spinning.

Shuddering, I drank more and more but I could never turn the image of my girl’s face staring back at me from that riverbed into the beautiful living version I wanted so badly to believe was still with me.

Hours later, I was disturbingly drunk.

One minute I was musing to myself about our better times, talking out loud like a maniac about something so wonderful, like one night that she and I were out scavenging too far to come back, and we’d camped out under the stars. I’d told her the names of all the constellations I knew and there were many. She’d quietly listened, cuddled up next to me, both of us just happy to be in love and together even if our world was a landscape of tragedy.

Together, we could have done anything. We were going to save the world.

Now she was gone.

I had nothing.

She’d been everything and now I had no one again.

With the room spinning, I abruptly got to my feet, stumbling towards the window above the sink basin. The flies zipped and buzzed in front of me, landing in the vomit I had left there after I’d finished the first bottle of liquor. Knowing that those same dirty insects were landing on my beautiful girl made me quake with not just sickness but unmeasurable self-hatred.

I was a fucking mess, and I wasn’t doing right by her.

Dolores was right.

Glancing back to where I had abandoned Dolores almost two days prior, the room tilted in my vision. I dizzily turned back, clutching the white cast iron basin.

The light outside was fading. I wanted to go along with it. I wanted all the horrible pain and debilitating heartache to stop.

Laying on the butcher block counter space where we prepared our meals, was a sharp kitchen blade. With where my head was at, seeing it, I immediately thought of my gun and other times of morbid desperation.

My tears burned down my cheeks.

I hated myself so much for what I had caused. If I had not yelled at her, and if I could only have seen through my arrogance and own my deficiencies, she would still be here. I didn’t and instead did what I’d always done and blamed anyone but myself for my problems.

I’d taken out everything on her, again…

If I’d only learned from my mistakes, things that weren’t okay never would have been said. She never would have felt the need to be away from me. She never would have gone for that walk, and if she had, I would have been by her side. If I had just agreed with her to go to the city to try something new, I may not have had the breakthrough we needed so badly but at least she’d be there.

Feeling on the verge of vomiting again, I wanted to disappear into an alcohol induced coma.

I pushed off the sink, staggering like a drunken idiot the whole way back to the dresser that was next to my side of the bed. In a blur, I saw Dolores sitting there on her chair, but she didn’t say anything. She looked every bit the inanimate object she was.

It was as if I’d killed her too.

I yanked the top drawer open, my hand tearing through the clothes to find the heavy black metal object that my fucked-up mind craved.

My fingers grazed the cold instrument of death. I could feel the barrel of the pistol sticking down my throat, the oiled slickness of it slipping past my parting lips.

Just the thought made me gag but with sick fascination, and I didn't’ stop thinking about it.

All it would take is one second and my finger on the trigger and no more guilt. My brain would be a splatter of nothing, painting the bedspread behind me. The place we’d slept and loved would be ruined just like we were.

Images of us, heated tangled flesh, together in those same blankets filled my mind.

To get away from the hurt that memory caused, I looked up, the weapon in my hand but my eyes aimed at the small dresser mirror. It was as if a stranger was looking back at me. My stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out of my mouth and my vision was closing in with blackness threatening to pull me under.

I was seeing things and hearing things.

The loud pop of the bullet; the sound of my body hitting the floor.

I saw bugs crawling out of the jagged rotting hole in my skull.

Then I saw her face, only not the destroyed one that was hidden under the blankets on the couch.

That was when I finally came back to myself.

“Don’t you fucking do it,” I furiously screamed at myself, throwing the gun back down in the drawer.

My ears were ringing from my own terrified voice reverberating in them, then a few seconds later, the silence of death and that room returned.

It was just me, the mannequin and the body.

Dolores was right, I needed to let her go.

I had to bury her.

~~~

Over the next several hours, through the task of digging a hole in the ground, I sobered up significantly. Having done that, I re-entered the dank, horrid smelling cabin, removing the small pile of remains that had been the love of my life.

I was still covered in layers of filth and knowing that even if Dolores wouldn’t speak to me, she’d loved her as much as me and she’d want to be there to say goodbye, I quickly washed myself outside under the spout attached to the spring fed line that was rigged to the house. Splashing my face with a mix of soap and water, I cleaned my battered hands, and my arms, and I removed my soiled pants, tossing them in the woods.

The water streaming down my body was ice cold and disgusting. My fleshly cleaned and very pale skin ran under my fingers, standing in stark contrast to the filth that I was and the sight of it only furthered the much-needed reality check I'd only recently found.

Once I’d made myself somewhat more presentable, I redressed, then silently approached Dolores.

My voice cracked from being burned by stomach acid so many times and by my screams and lack of simply drinking or eating appropriately for days, but I had the strength and weakness to ask her for something I didn't deserve.

“Please come with me…I don’t want to do this alone.”

When Dolores responded with her softly spoken words of devotion, ‘You are never alone, Five. You will always have me,’ I was nearly beside myself with emotion. I’d thought I’d lost her along with everything else.

“Oh, my God, thank you,” I sobbed as I lifted Dolores up and carried her outside into the yard.

We approached the hole I’d dug. It wasn’t that deep, and it wasn’t that big, but it didn’t need to be. It was in front of an ancient but long dead ash tree that she had once told me had to have been something truly beautiful at one point in time when it was alive.

It was just like her.

The burial was silent, save for the sound of the blade of my shovel slicing through the softened pile of dirt I had removed and then replaced.

The sky was getting dark, the woods full of shadows of monstrous things that looked like they could come out of the night and pull you away forever.

I sat, folded in on myself at the base of the old ash tree, the disturbed soil at my feet as I looked up to the highest branches of the barren tree. Its flesh had been taken. Remanence of its bark were scattered all around me. It would someday be nothing but dust.

We all would be, but it was not my time-yet.

Burying my head in my hands, I kept telling myself that.

~~~

In the days that came after that, it rained and rained. My mind tormented me constantly with the flawed idea that she was trapped out there in the crushing wet ground. One second, I’d be haunted by images of her so scared and trying to breath and break free as then dirty water filled her lungs, and then the next, I’d come back to the dimly lit room I was in; Dolores worriedly watching me as I slowly organized things and cleaned up my many messes.

We couldn't stay there, but I couldn't bring myself to leave either, not when everything I had that she'd ever touched was right there. All around me were parts of her life that she’d shared with me. I’d clung to every trinket; every item of fabric that bore her scent.

Lying in bed at night, I’d break down into sobbing fits of anguish with my face buried in her pillow. I could stay like that for hours on end, fading in and out, tricking my mind and heart into thinking I hadn't lost her and that she was right there in bed next to me. But it would never last because the damp coldness of the empty space around me that had once been warmed by everything that was her was an inescapable reminder that I had failed the woman I loved and who had saved me.

It was in a notion during one of these times of despair that I realized the only thing I could do to redeem what I had done was to fix this like I'd always promised her I would. Out there somewhere in time there was a place where the world was still alive, and she was in it and everyone I ever cared about was still flesh and blood and filled with life.

I had to get back.

The pain that happened here was real and always would be but somewhere out there, there was a chance of better things.

There was a chance of seeing her again.

That idea of saving her and my family was the only way, and it was my reason for breathing again.

Broken, but somehow still standing, my heart though not the same was still beating. The flesh covering my hand could still feel hers in it and it was while cherishing that feeling that I made the decision that it was time to go.

On our final day, I got up like every day since I’d put her in the ground under that tree. I came outside, picking up the wildflowers I had left for her the day before, then I went for a short walk, talking to her in my mind the entire time, making my usual promises while I worked through ideas and math and things that gave me hope. Then I’d come back, refill her favorite vase with new water and place the colorful blooms there above her.

Alone, the sun shone down on me, my shadow stretching across the earth above her, giving the illusion that we were laying there together.

“I love you,” I whispered, my eyes blinking back the enormous weight I felt from her loss and would always feel.

I liked to think I heard her say she loved me back, but I knew she didn’t; it was just a memory of her words tickling my ear as her lips gently kissed along my neck.

I shivered from head to toe as I felt the ghost of her touch but not in a bad way.

I smiled, sniffing like a baby as I rubbed my eyes.

Then, making one last promise I said, “You will be okay. I’ll fix this.”

Going back in the house, with Dolores watching all the while, obedient and loyal and loving with words of encouragement, I packed my final things.

I left our cabin spotless and set up as if we were coming back to it. It was as if I could see us in there again, spending our nights in front of that fireplace, laughing and endlessly teasing each other; our bed ready for us to lay down in and explore each other in new and exciting ways that only made our love stronger. I saw all that but in the back of my head I knew I was never going to come back to that place because it was gone, and if I did return, I may never leave her.

So, it was with that in mind, late in the morning, I loaded Dolores with our supplies, setting her next to the hard black guitar case that held her cherished Christmas present I'd given her and so many other things I couldn’t let go. I pulled a blanket around Dolores and the case, as if the instrument inside it had become something in a way of being the woman I’d lost, so much the way Dolores was a real thing that needed my care and love.

I walked to the old, grayed ash tree, its wind worn and smooth branches shone in the warm sun as I looked down at the ground where I’d left a piece of my heart. I could almost hear the sound of her playing my favorite sone and I knew that when I plucked those strings, a piece of my heart would break a little more with each strum, but I’d be back with her.

My lower lip trembled, and my nose burned with the same heat as my eyes.

“Until we meet again, my love…”

Thank you for your support , this special cover art was made just for this and for you.💞 @groovydazephantom

Master List Post for my Five Centric Stories and art

Link to my other Tumblr Five Centric posts

Link to visit me on A03

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thedivinershiddenarchive · 1 year

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I really liked the Isekaid!Tartaglia x Character!Fem!Reader you did.

I could see Kaeya doing the same to Character!Fem!Reader by using the information he gathered from the game to make the reader do what he says to gain the information he has.

cw. fem!reader, sagau?, switched roles (reader is the character, kaeya is the player), perverted!kaeya, blackmail, manipulation, bl0wj0bs, v4g1n4l s3x, one-sided h4t3 s3x, semi-public s3x, s3x tapes, implied s0mn0 at the end, some non-genuine insults towards kaeya sorry heh.., not beta-read or edited

a/n. sorry if this took long, i was procrastinating once again and was in the mix of completing this render in blender and speedrunning the events in genshin. my f2p self can't handle wasting some valuable primos.. other than that, i'm still unmotivated but i wanna get some fullfic requests done.

masterlist | tag system | 17- & MASC-ALIGNED PLEASE DNI! THIS IS ONLY FOR FEMALE AUDIENCES.

I can see him blackmailing you about telling the people of Monstadt about you being part of Khaenri'ah origin, how your plan was to destroy Monstadt and many more dark secrets you didn't want revealed. You didn't know who this bastard was and his intention nor how did he know your name and backstory.

He introduces himself as Kaeya and by the simple scroll of his 'gallery', you knew he was a weirdo. He had so many pictures of you in different positions and ugh, you didn't wanna know what that locked folder had at all even if he insisted that it wasn't bad. You can't trust him, especially after he threatened to tell your secrets to the whole of Monstadt. But oh wait, he won't reveal it if you do something for him.. You have a bad feeling about this.. This guy was extremely.. Unhinged and dirty. You wouldn't wanna know what he'd want you to do in exchange for his mouth to stay shut.

Still, you didn't want to end things off like that. What could wrong with trying to please this man? Everything but you need to endure it for your sake.

Goodness, your eye was going to get sore from the amount of flashing lights you're witnessing from that device called a phone. Seems like he wanted to savor the moment a bit seeing his 'waifu' in a position he never dreams her doing. It's like a one-in-a-trillion chance of having and he felt lucky having you like this.

Oh how it was hard to resist to fuck your throat right then and there but to be honest, what's stopping him?

Fuck, your voice was feeling hoarse everytime he thrusted into your tight throat and he wasn't stopping until he was satisfied. You were practically choking from the amount of cum inside of your mouth and his girthy length that was endlessly pounding your mouth. Even after that was finished, he wasn't satisfied, instead, he pulled out of you and forced you to swallow all of his seed before flipping you over and forcing you on all fours as he positions his cock inside of you once again.

You hated him, hated his fucking guts for being so disgusting and using you for his own advantage but you couldn't help but moan at how good it felt being railed to celestia by his dick pressing all those good spots. Kaeya's hand was gripping so hard on your hip while the other went to grip your chin and kiss you messily to keep your mouth shut from making too much noise that would alert anyone nearby. He knew the guards were nearby or maybe someone worse who would catch you in the act.

The two of you would lay down tiredly, well, mostly you. Kaeya was sitting up and taking pictures of your tired and messy form but you could care less right now, as long as your information didn't get leaked to the whole of Monstadt, you could rest but now wasn't the time. You wished to get up and change but you were way too fatigued from the endless rounds of him fucking you over and over again. This guy was really pent up but you kind of expected that seeing that he basically never touched a woman except his mother.

He was kind enough to dress you up and take you to your house. Of course, why would he leave his favorite girl out in the open, completely vulnerable? He wanted to spend more time to spend time with her in the first place but since she was being so good, he decided to let you rest.

But all of us know that he still had some pent up energy inside of him so what did he do? Pick his phone up again, connected his earphones to it and watched the lewd videos of you getting fucked by him. Your moans were making him hard again, your begging and cum-stained face had him unable to resist what he wanted to do with you.

Looking over your body that was sleeping soundly, he unbuckled his pants once again. Setting his phone down with the recording app still on for what he was about to do to you.

#notsodivininglover ; king’s pages #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader

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thrifty-swiftie · 5 months

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wonka gate: an examination of the parallels between wonka (2023) and sweeney todd (2007)

i saw wonka (2023) approximately 10 hours ago and since then i have been plauged by the film's nearly exact parallels to sweeney todd. over the past 10 hours, i have employed the help of my friend @orfisheus and we have successfully deconstructed every similarity between wonka and sweeney todd, though this post will specifically focus on the 2007 tim burton adaptation.

**SPOILER ALERT FOR BOTH FILMS. DO NOT READ AHEAD IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!**

the simplest place to start is to introduce whom each of the wonka characters is trying to replicate. in my opinion, the most recognizable of these characters are mrs. scrubbit, portrayed by olivia colman, and mr. bleacher, portrayed by tom davis. these two are obviously trying to replicate sweeney todd/benjamin barker and his counterpart mrs. lovett. these two are recognizable by name alone, with "scrubbit" sounding extremely similar to "lovett" and "bleacher" sounding similar to "barker." however, the personalities of scrubbit and bleacher are nearly exact replicas of lovett's and sweeney's personalities. both sets of characters run "shops" that aim to harm the people coming in. one character, lovett in sweeney todd and bleacher in wonka, lures their victims in while the other, sweeney and scrubbit, do the actual harming. even from a non-theatre fan standpoint, the similarities between these characters is undeniably recognizable.

now, you may be asking "if scrubbit and bleacher are meant to represent the main characters from the original source material, why aren't they the main characters of wonka?" to that, i propose that we look at wonka as if it's the story of sweeney todd told by another character: anthony. timothée chalamet's wonka is almost a 1:1 copy of sweeney todd's anthony. both characters are dreamers and see the world in the best light possible despite all of the tragedy surrounding them. if you choose to view wonka as a story told through an anthony-esque character's perspective, the fun, colorful atmosphere of wonka feels less out of place than it did upon my initial viewing of the film. in a society where law enforcement and religion is corrupted by corporate greed, willy wonka still chooses to see the good in the world and the people in it, hence the film's upbeat and colorful atmosphere.

no anthony can be complete without a johanna, which willy wonka finds in noodle, the film's female lead played by calah lane. noodle, a supposed orphan (although, like with sweeney's johanna, the viewer finds out the true parentage of noodle later in the film), was taken in by the film's antagonists and is literally caged in by said antagonist. this directly mirrors johanna being trapped by turpin, sweeney todd's antagonist.

though the characters do not take a romantic interest in each other (which, let's be real, would be illegal) wonka and noodle form the same kind of bond that anthony and johanna did in sweeney todd. wonka rescues noodle from her cages multiple times throughout the film, just like anthony freed johanna. the duos care more about the wellbeing of their partner rather than the rest of the world and at the end of both films, the two sets characters both have happy endings.

in terms of minor characters, i would consider wonka's trio of chocolateers to be an extension of judge turpin, while keegan michael key's police chief character takes on the role of beadle.

as for plot parallels, the two films share many similar vital plot points, including quite literally opening in the exact same way. tim burton's sweeney todd film begins with anthony singing on a boat, while paul king's wonka opens with willy wonka singing on a boat. both sing about similar topics too, with wonka singing "after seven years of life upon the ocean... the city i've pinned seven years of hopes on lies just over the horizon... i've got twelve silver sovereigns in my pocket and a hatful of dreams" and anthony singing "i've sailed the world, beheld it's wonders... but there's no place like london." right off the bat, the viewer is exposed to the dreamer's perspective before the rest of society is shown.

not long after, wonka is brought to the shop of mrs. scrubbit and bleacher, where bleacher then attempts to club wonka. this could potentially serve as a callback to sweeney and his razors.

we meet noodle right after this. although noodle is most definitely the johanna stand-in of wonka, an argument could also be made for her representation of sweeney todd's toby. in the 2007 film, mrs. lovett takes toby in both out of usefulness and emotional attachment and she puts him to work in her shop as an assistant. like toby, noodle is taken in by mrs. scrubbit and put to work. however, mrs. scrubbit feels no emotional attachment at all towards noodle, hence why her name is scrubbit, a pun regarding her profession, rather than lovett, a name that professes why the character takes toby in.

as the wonka film progresses, we see more and more parallels with burton's sweeney todd. firstly, bleacher lies about his identity for a large portion of the film, just like sweeney does, and in both films the audience is made aware of these lies before the other characters find out. another parallel can be drawn between sweeney and wonka as both characters go "underground" to escape arrest, although wonka literally uses the underground sewer system while sweeney conceals his identity from the people who used to know him as benjamin barker. additionally, both wonka and sweeney utilize their stores to evade police capture.

at the very end of the film, we see our last two similar plot points. first, noodle is reunited with her mother. johanna meets her own mother at the end of the film, but while noodle is able to obtain a happy ending and live the rest of her life with family, johanna doesn’t realize it’s her mother, and is unable to reach that same fulfillment. johanna’s ending is much more tragic than noodle’s, however wonka is a children's movie, so what can you really expect? finally, in the post credits scene, we see justice delved out to mrs. scrubbit and bleacher as they are arrested for their wrong doing, similar to how mrs. lovett and sweeney die at the end of their film. once again, they're not killing people in a children's film, so this is the best we can get in terms of a parallel ending.

after breaking these similarities down with @orfisheus, i am completely convinced that wonka is a cleverly concealed parody of sweeney todd, but in the end, the movie represents a genre that is critically underappreciated in today's society. musical theatre should not have to be concealed to be enjoyed by all and theatre should not be relegated to the stereotypical shakespeare dramas. at the end of the day, who can really say if wonka is secretly a replica of sweeney todd? all that truly matters is the knowledge that allows us to appreciate wonka's worth. more than just a children’s film, it builds off of the foundation of two great works to become something that both pays tribute to and evolves the stories of willy wonka and sweeney todd.

#wonka 2023 #wonka #sweeney todd #these are the same movie #you cannot convince me otherwise #wonka movie #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #johnny depp #theatre

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bitter69uk · 10 months

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“New York glitter-punk outfit The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black began life as a near-death experience. Shortly before forming the band in 1990, front woman Kembra Pfahler was strangled in a brutal mugging and almost died. While recovering, battered and zonked on painkillers, she watched the 1975 horror movie Trilogy of Terror on television. The film stars Karen Black, the quirky cross-eyed actress whose wildly erratic career encompasses everything from some of the key American films of the 1970s (Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, Nashville, Day of the Locust) to mainstream Hollywood schmaltz (Airport 1975) to obscure straight-to-VHS exploitation / horror dreck. In Trilogy's best-known segment, Black is stalked by and eventually possessed by a cursed malevolent Zuni fetish doll which has come to life. [SPOILER ALERT] It concludes with a final jolting image of the now-crazed and murderous, knife-wielding Black grinning blank-eyed and maniacal to the camera to reveal a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth identical to the Zuni doll’s … In her traumatized state, that savage and disturbing image -- combined with almost dying -- made a powerful impression on Pfahler. Inspired, she would blacken out her teeth, conceal her natural fine-featured beauty under cadaverous make-up and take to the stage clad in little more than a pair of thigh boots and a coat of body paint. Pfahler’s look can suggest a character from a John Waters film given an “ugly make-over”: think of Divine as the acid-scarred Dawn Davenport in Female Trouble (1974), an image which seems to anticipate TVHKB’s twisted glamour. Like Divine before her, Pfahler shaves off her eyebrows and shaves back her hairline to accommodate her extreme eye make-up. “I want to be both very beautiful and very repulsive,” Pfahler would explain to The Toronto Star in 1994.”

/ From my own blog post “The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black at Meltdown Festival 10 August 2012” /

Born on this day 62 years ago (4 August 1961): California girl-turned-NYC provocative performance artist, Cinema of Transgression actress and Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black voodoo-dolly singer Kembra Pfahler. Photo of Pfahler by me!

#voluptuous horror of karen black #lobotomy room #kembra pfahler #performance artist #punk #glitter punk #performance art #new york punk #trilogy of terror #karen black

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mariopokemonuniverse · 1 year

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Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit Manual

General Information

Evolution

Pawniard evolves into Bisharp at level 52; which evolves into Kingambit after defeating 3 other Bisharp leading groups of Pawniard (each holding a Leader's Crest), and then leveling up.

Pawniard Info

National Pokédex #: 624

Category: Sharp Blade Pokémon

Type: Dark/Steel

Height: 1'08", 0.5 m

Weight: 22.5 lbs., 10.2 kg

Abilities: Defiant, Inner Focus, Pressure (Hidden Ability)

Gender Ratio: 50% male , 50% female

Egg Groups: Human-Like

Temperament: Active, Agile, Alert, Attentive, Charming, Cheerful, Confident, Curious, Dignified, Diligent, Eager, Fearless, Independent, Intelligent, Keen, Loyal, Persistent, Patient, Proud, Responsive

Diet: Carnivore

Bisharp Info

National Pokédex #: 625

Category: Sword Blade Pokémon

Type: Dark/Steel

Height: 5'03", 1.6 m

Weight: 154.3 lbs., 70 kg

Abilities: Defiant, Inner Focus, Pressure (Hidden Ability)

Gender Ratio: 50% male, 50% female

Egg Groups: Human-Like

Temperament: Active, Agile, Alert, Attentive, Calm, Confident, Dominant, Dignified, Fearless, Independent, Intelligent, Keen, Loyal, Patient, Powerful, Protective, Proud, Quiet, Responsive, Serious

Diet: Carnivore

Kingambit Info

National Pokedex #: 983

Category: Big Blade Pokémon

Type: Dark/Steel

Height: 6'07", 2 m

Weight: 264.6 lbs., 120 kg

Abilities: Defiant, Supreme Overlord, Pressure (Hidden Ability)

Gender Ratio: 50% male, 50% female

Egg Groups: Human-Like

Temperament: Alert, Attentive, Calm, Confident, Dominant, Dignified, Fearless, Independent, Intelligent, Keen, Loyal, Patient, Powerful, Protective, Proud, Quiet, Refined, Responsive, Serious, Sturdy

Diet: Carnivore

Introduction

Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit are Dark/Steel type Pokémon that are quite rare, and sought after by seasoned Trainers looking for a challenge. They are prized for their unique typing, Attack stat, intelligence, property-guarding ability, and relative quietness. Like ninja warriors, Pawniard and Bisharp are extremely agile and athletic in the way they move, and blend in well with dark surroundings. Bisharp are also capable of jumping to extreme heights, possibly 30 feet. While Kingambit are significantly heavier and have lost the agility of their pre-evolutions, they are sturdier and more able to take hits, as well as deal slightly heavier damage.

As Pawniard, they are attentive and persistent Pokémon that are constantly looking for something to do. Even though they are completely subordinate to their much stronger evolved forms, they are still independent thinkers who test boundaries and try to get their way. Thus they are difficult to train and need a Trainer who can be a confident and consistent “pack leader”, much like a Bisharp or Kingambit. However, Pawniard still train themselves constantly and love being in Pokémon battles, as their ultimate goal is to evolve in order to reach adulthood.

After evolving into Bisharp, they develop a calmer and more stoic personality. They are also much more physically powerful. Bisharp is known as the “Meta Knight of Pokémon” due to its similarities to the iconic Kirby series character, in both its fighting prowess and behavior. They remain as independent thinkers that are not especially fond of having a boss, because they are naturally dominant over their pre-evolution, although their rare evolution Kingambit is dominant over them in turn. Bisharp are perfect as guard Pokémon, because they are naturally territorial, with great strength and weaponry that is enough to deter intruders. If they evolve once again into Kingambit, they trade their agility and fighting skill for increased bulk, making them more able to take hits, but only able to attack with brute force using the huge blade on their heads.

In medieval Europe, Pawniard and Bisharp were kept by high-class knights, and were even knighted themselves. Like many others, these Pokemon were active both on the battlefield and as guards that protected castles. There was even a Bisharp general that led an entire legion of Pawniard during the war in Kalos that took place 300 years ago. However, Pawniard and Bisharp were actually the Pokémon of choice for more sinister knights who painted their armor black, in order to keep their coat of arms hidden so that the lord they served could not be determined. This has only added to these Pokémon’s reputation as mysterious and formidable creatures, even though many have served as noble protectors. Any Bisharp that managed to evolve into Kingambit were only allowed to be owned by royalty, just like Aegislash.

Because Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit are listed as a potential danger to humans, they require an additional Pokémon license to legally own.

Pros and Cons of Bisharp

Pros

Has a very high Attack stat, and is good at getting critical hits

Has a high Defense stat

Excellent at guarding

Highly intelligent

Not clingy to people

Usually quiet

Resistant against 9 types (Dark, Steel, Ice, Grass, Normal, Flying, Dragon, Rock, Ghost), and immune to Psychic and Poison

Cons

Not a good fit for beginning Trainers

Takes a long time to evolve from Pawniard

May be highly destructive to property

Needs lots of exercise and enrichment

Headstrong personality, difficult to train

4x weakness against Fighting type, also weak against Ground and Fire

Learns no Special moves naturally, not a very diverse moveset

Pros and Cons of Kingambit

Pros

Has a very high Attack stat, and is good at getting critical hits

Has a very high Defense stat

Has a high HP stat

Its signature move Kowtow Cleave never misses

Excellent at guarding

Highly intelligent

Not clingy to people

Usually quiet

Resistant against 9 types (Dark, Steel, Ice, Grass, Normal, Flying, Dragon, Rock, Ghost), and immune to Psychic and Poison

Cons

Has a low Speed stat

Not a good fit for beginning Trainers

Is difficult to evolve from Bisharp

May be highly destructive to property

Needs lots of enrichment

Headstrong personality, difficult to train

4x weakness against Fighting type, also weak against Ground and Fire

Learns no Special moves naturally, not a very diverse moveset

Important Considerations for Owning Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit

Providing enough exercise and mental stimulation: Pawniard and Bisharp are incredibly intelligent Pokémon that need plenty of exercise and behavioral enrichment. While Kingambit doesn’t need much exercise, it still needs as much mental stimulation as its pre-evolutions.

Their strong temperament: Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit are not easily trained, and require an experienced Trainer who can take charge.

Late evolution: Pawniard does not evolve into Bisharp until level 52, and a Bisharp must defeat 3 wild Bisharp that lead groups of Pawniard and are holding a Leader's Crest to evolve into Kingambit.

Maintenance: Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit need stones to regularly keep their blades sharp.

Destructive behavior: Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit are likely to demolish home property and dig holes, especially if they are bored.

Care

Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit are somewhat high-maintenance Pokémon because they fastidiously look after the condition of their blades, and must have whetstones to sharpen them on. For safety reasons, simply allow the Pokémon to do this itself. You must also provide pieces of wood or other items for it to test the sharpness.

Most of Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit’s natural diet is meat. Their regular food should be supplemented with some fruits and vegetables, and raw meat such as Tauros or Unfezant meat at least a few times a week. Pawniard tend to eat a lot, due to them evolving at a late level and thus requiring lots of energy. Pawniard eats 1.5-2 pounds of food per day, Bisharp eats 5-6 pounds, and Kingambit eats 7-8 pounds.

Enrichment is an extremely critical part of owning Pawniard, Bisharp, and Kingambit as they need frequent stimulation. A favorite activity that Trainers do with these Pokémon is allow them to exercise their cutting abilities on newspapers or pieces of wood. This is similar to their natural behavior of cutting branches and weeds to test the sharpness of their blades. Another great activity to do with Bisharp or Kingambit is trimming trees and bushes as landscaping. Pawniard absolutely love taking time destroying cardboard boxes that are larger than they are, and those keep them occupied. During the process, they use their blades to cling to the box in the same fashion that they capture their more natural prey. It takes much less time for a Bisharp or Kingambit to demolish cardboard, but it still works.

Recall training is also an excellent form of enrichment for any Pokémon. Use a whistle or call the Pokémon’s name, and have treats or a toy ready so that the Pokémon is motivated to come to you. When using this for play, do it while hiding out of view of your Pokémon so that it has to find you, like hide-and-seek. Bisharp and Kingambit use a recall command with Pawniard in the wild, so this is much like a natural behavior.

Pokédex Entries

Pawniard

“Blades comprise this Pokémon's entire body. If battling dulls the blades, it sharpens them on stones by the river.”

“They fight at Bisharp’s command. They cling to their prey and inflict damage by sinking their blades into it.”

“Ignoring their injuries, groups attack by sinking the blades that cover their bodies into their prey.”

“After shredding its prey, it sharpens its blades on a stone by the river. Each Pawniard has its own favorite sharpening stone.”

“It follows Bisharp's orders to a tee when it attacks enemies. After slashing an opponent, Pawniard clangs both of its blades together.”

“It uses river stones to maintain the cutting edges of the blades covering its body. These sharpened blades allow it to bring down opponents.”

“A pack of these Pokémon forms to serve a Bisharp boss. Each Pawniard trains diligently, dreaming of one day taking the lead.”

“Pawniard will fearlessly challenge even powerful foes. In a pinch, it will cling to opponents and pierce them with the blades all over its body.”

“Any chips in its blades would prove fatal for it. After each battle, it diligently maintains its blades using its favorite sharpening stone.”

Bisharp

“It leads a group of Pawniard. It battles to become the boss, but will be driven from the group if it loses.”

“Bisharp pursues prey in the company of a large group of Pawniard. Then Bisharp finishes off the prey.”

“This pitiless Pokémon commands a group of Pawniard to hound prey into immobility. It then moves in to finish the prey off.”

“No matter how strong the Bisharp, it's said that if the blade on its head is chipped, it will retire from its position as the boss.”

“It leads a group of Pawniard. Bisharp doesn't even change its expression when it deals the finishing blow to an opponent.”

“It's accompanied by a large retinue of Pawniard. Bisharp keeps a keen eye on its minions, ensuring none of them even think of double-crossing it.”

“Violent conflicts erupt between Bisharp and Fraxure over places where sharpening stones can be found.”

“This Pokémon commands a group of several Pawniard. Groups that are defeated in territorial disputes are absorbed by the winning side.”

“Bisharp mercilessly cuts its opponents to pieces with the sharp blades covering its body. It will do anything to win.”

Kingambit

“Only a Bisharp that stands above all others in its vast army can evolve into Kingambit.”

“Though it commands a massive army in battle, it's not skilled at devising complex strategies. It just uses brute strength to keep pushing.”

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presleyhearted · 1 year

Text

Yours Truly - Chapter 1: Make a Wish

・❥・Pairing: Elvis Presley x original female character

・❥・Genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・Word Count: 4.1k

・❥・Summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ Ratings & Warnings: SFW. But a brief mention of a sexual topic (nothing extreme), curse words.

| chapter index | prologue | chapter 2

NOVA

When things appear to be blissful and tranquil, that can be snatched away from you in an instant.

"I knew I'd find you here," A confident statement followed by a sigh, not long after. The empty seat beside me creaks by the motion of being pulled back, as the person occupies it. I observe this in my peripheral vision, but my eyes are fixated on the pages and it's ink in front of me.

My unchanging position quickly goes noticed by the person beside me, as their hand appears right in front of me - right in the middle of the words that my eyes are drinking in.

"Luke!" I exclaimed, quickly turning my head towards him. My voice seemed to alert the librarian, as she shushes me very abruptly, a firm glare in her eyes. Both Luke and I mouth a 'sorry' before I turned to glare at Luke.

He threw his hands up in defence, a grin etched on his lips from the success of disrupting my concentration.

"I just had to," He shrugs, "your eyes were practically glued to that book."

"But rightfully so!" I flipped the book to show the front cover to him, pointing my finger at the title as if to say matter of fact.

Luke frowns, confusion wiped his features, "I don't get it."

"Hamlet. Shakespeare? For our assignment?"

He snaps his fingers as his mouth utters the realisation, "Oh!"

I nodded and shook my head, "Exactly."

"When's the deadline?" He inquiries, a slight panic in his tone - but not quite. Luke was always that person that did not have one single panicky bone in his body. Instead, calmness ran through his veins. Very laid back. Too much, I sometimes think.

"In three months."

"You are crazy, you do know that right?" Disbelief is written all over his features.

"Hmm. is that a rhetorical question?" I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

I do understand Luke's friendly concern over my perhaps 'extreme' attitude of studying. I start an assignment as soon as the professor announces it, never wasting any minute. It allows me the time to construct a first draft, then edit it, then write a second draft. The second draft I find is the midway of the getting that final draft perfect. Precisely on point.

"Anyways, " I begin, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

"Two things."

"Good or bad?" I tilt my head at him.

I met Luke two years ago at the very start of my life as a university student. It was orientation day, and it wasn't anything entirely unique - we were stood next to each other in the line to get our ID's. I made a comment about the scorching heat of the sun, and he turned around to inquire whether I needed to borrow any sunscreen. A very odd way to start a conversation. We later found out that we shared one class together, Creative Writing. From then on, we hung out and naturally formed a friendship. Although, we couldn't be more different in some cases.

This may be one of those cases.

He grinned playfully, "Depends on what your definition of those are."

"I know we never share the same definition of either of those." I squinted my eyes at him, smiling.

"Touché."

"I like him." Luke stated, all the humour from his face has vanished and in its place is a dawned realisation and an unmistakable fear. There is no exaggeration when I say that Luke and I are polar opposites. He always took the leap into the unknown, never over-analysing possible outcomes - he just goes for it. Never a silver of fear and panic in him.

So to see that very rare emotion clear in his face - I knew that my friend was in a delicate state.

"Who?" I asked. I already had a gut feeling on who he was referring to, but to hear it from himself would confirm this.

"Matt."

I felt my heart sink for him. Luke and Matt began a friends with benefits situation, no strings attached. In our generation, that type of arrangement was not uncommon - and yet, I still worried for my friend, as I recall when he brought it up to me a year ago. Luke may be a very laid back person, full of spontaneity and fun - but he is prone to being caught up in the web of infatuation, very quickly and deeply. On the other hand, I knew Matt. Not closely, but enough to be aware that he is not a relationship-type of guy. So, I warned Luke about this - warned him that the no strings attached situation has its risks. An emotional risks that has the possibility of ending unfavourably for him, so this confession from Luke spikes up that worry that I felt when he first told me about their arrangement.

"Oh, Luke," I reached my hand out to lightly touch his arm, not wanting to say anything much yet. I wanted to give him the time to process his thoughts and voice them out to me. I needed to listen first.

He shook his head, "F.uck, I know. I remember you warned me about this. It was going as it usually is, Nova. Then. . . I don't know, " His eyes drift away from mine, as if recalling certain moments.

Luke proceeded to tell me certain instances where Matt would cross the boundary of the 'no strings attached' situation. Simple, yet it's an intense touch of one's mind. Gestures and actions that two people in relationship would do, a romantic couple. He then continues on to tell me that he finally confessed his feelings to Matt, but has been successfully avoiding him ever since then.

"I feel like s.hit, Nova." He groans, "I unloaded all of that to him, and ran for it. But I just don't know what else to do. I told myself I'll never find myself in this situation, and yet here I am." He mumbles the last part of his sentence, head in his hands on top of the library desk.

"Hey," I shake his shoulder comfortingly, "there's absolutely nothing wrong with running away. You did the hardest part Luke, you've got to give yourself credit for that."

He sighs, "Credit for what?"

"Being damn brave enough to tell him about how you feel, am I right?"

A second of silence.

"Right. I've got to agree with the voice of reason, I guess." A smile slowly breaks out from him, attempting to lift himself up from despair.

"Which I am?" I gestured to myself, smiling.

"From day one. " He sits up, "I want to know what Matt says, but I also don't want to ever know. F.uck. Why is adulting like this? Ever since I started my twenties, life has been putting me on maximum level of danger-type of emotional rollercoasters. " Luke chuckles.

"Yeah, I get you. But we can only control what we can. No use trying to hold onto things that was never in our hands in the first place." I shrug.

"You know what? Instead of reading books, you should write your own. Like 'Nova's survival guide to life.' or some s.hit." Luke jokes, using his hands for dramatic effect.

I laugh and shake my head at his ridiculous idea.

"What? I will bet my left nipple that there will be hundreds lining up to grab a copy of that. You have always been the wise one out of us two."

I continue to shake my head and dramatically sigh, "I just like being prepared."

Luke snorts, "Uh-huh. But. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Your birthday is in less than twenty-four hours."

"I am aware of my own birthdate, Luke." I chuckled, but I know that he is indicating to something more with it.

"What I meant to say is that now you are turning twenty-one. . . maybe just be a little reckless. Don't think, just do." He shrugs.

I tilted my head forward and he laughs, "Nah, not anything f.ucked up!"

Luke looks around our surroundings, "Libraries and books and being five steps ahead is cool, but don't be too busy looking ahead to notice what's right there in the corner of your eye."

I'm quiet for a moment, but quickly respond to Luke with a smile, "You should write your own book, you know. Like a survival gui-"

"Oh, shut the f.uck up!" He laughs.

The remaining hours of me being twenty years old flashed by like a speed of light.

I am now stood in front of my full-length mirror in my bedroom, self-consciously turning from left to right and right to left - in attempts to be satisfied with how the birthday dress feels hugging my body. It was a dark purple mini dress that reached my mid-thigh, with long sleeves that covered my arms. I rarely wear dresses in all honestly, only in certain special occasions. There's that silver of self-confidence that beats against the currents in my subconscious mind, creating a friction on my mental image of myself.

After all, we are our own worst critic.

My usually straight dark hair was done in loose curls, and I finished my look with a necklace my mother gifted me in advance and the earrings that my grandmother passed down to me a while ago. I always went for the simple makeup, often worried that I'll end up going overboard and looking absolutely ridiculous. So, to ease my worries, Luke's sister came over earlier to fix my makeup into something fancier, but suitable for the occasion.

Before the conversation with Luke in the library yesterday, I already had preconceived thoughts on the matter about me trying to be 'a little reckless.' I have the habit of journalling quite often, a cathartic way to organise my thoughts and hopefully, makes some sense of it. Like I said before, we are our own worst critic. Although I am firm in my ways of being cautious and wise, the thought of being outside of those lines has crossed my mind more than once for a while now. As the weeks came closer and closer to my 21st birthday, that topic did spin in my head and cluttered the blank pages of my journal.

When you are a kid, you gaze up at grown-ups in awe and wonder and you can't help but be desperate to grow up. There's that rush and thrill in growing up and being as 'cool' as them. But as the years of your life slip past you and you become older and older as years go by - you shake your head at that naive mind of younger you. How could they possibly think that being an adult is full of pure happiness and magic?

And the crazy thing is, I did not realise how special it was to be a child - until childhood was over. Now that I am in my early twenties, the more frightening it is becoming that adulthood can be emotionally abusive and there is that worry of not quite being right. I can be rational, but also feel like an inner child still. A true tug of war where we never truly know who will win.

But I have concluded this - once you enter adulthood, it seems as though the years past by in a blink of an eye. And I do not want to find myself in a position in the future where I am attacked by this crushing regret that I did not experience life enough. So, I plan from now on, on my first day of being twenty-one years old - I will try my best to take a step outside my lines of logic. Be spontaneous.

But just like any habit, it is easier said than done.

I take a deep breathe in attempts to pause my thoughts and exit my bedroom door. I am quickly greeted by a chorus of 'Happy Birthday to you' by family and friends, quickly surrounding me. I smile gratefully, walking slowly towards the table.

"Make a wish, Nova." My mother says, a bight smile on her face as she shakes my shoulders encouragingly.

I close my eyes, blocking all the people around me and focus on one particular wish -

I wish to finally let myself live spontaneously. Nothing extreme. Just something to help me take that first step out. Whatever it is. Send it to me, please universe.

And with that, I open my eyes and blow out the numerous candles on the luscious red velvet cake. A pattern of applause erupts around me, and the loud music resumes with Luke being the main control of it.

A little later on, Luke approaches me with a grin on his face, "how does it feel being twenty plus one year added to your life?"

"Weird. But I've made a decision."

This captures Luke's attention, he looks at me curiously, "Oooooh, a decision on what exactly?"

"What we talked about in the library."

Luke's eyes widen in happy realisation.

"Yes, that. I. . .I need to be more out there. You are right." I smile at him.

Luke envelopes me in a tight hug, "I am so happy for you! This is revolutionary, Nova."

I chuckle at his enthusiasm, and I am about to respond to him when something catches the corner of my eye.

Some sort of glimmer of faint light that danced from outside the living room window. It was faint and vanished just as quickly as I noticed it. It made no sense since it was night time. It was not the type of light that came from a car's headlight, a streetlight, a flash from a phone - or whatever else. It was a light that had a glimmer to it, almost the type of glimmer you find in animated fairytale stories.

I blinked and the light was no longer there. Tiredness might just be creeping into me. It was already 11.30PM, as the clock hanging from the wall reads.

I broke away from the hug with Luke.

"Have you opened any of your presents yet?" He asked.

"Not yet."

"Ok, ok good. But we all know mine is the best." He flips his imaginary long hair in a dramatic motion and laughs.

"Of course." I roll my eyes playfully.

Luke picks up some of the opened birthday cards, "But you've opened some birthday cards I see. Did any cash fall from any of these cards?" He whispered in a conspirator way.

I chuckle and whisper back, "Yes."

"B.itch you better share. I am broke."

Before I could respond, Luke's curious tone stops me, "Oh, this one's different."

I looked down at the envelope he is holding. It was a red envelope, but the red was quite faded and It had a small rope that tied it together. I furrowed my eyebrows in curiosity, It felt out of place and it wasn't just because of its color. But there was something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"It's giving me vintage vibes." Luke says.

Precisely!

"I was just about to say that it looks out of place."

"Hmm, maybe from your grandmother?" Luke shrugs.

I shake my head, "I don't think so. I've already opened her birthday card for me."

Without a second of hesitation, I take the envelope from his hands and open it in almost a frenzy. A state of curiosity overpowered me, but then there was confusion. As I peeled open the envelope with my hands, I am met with a blank white greeting card - its front and its inside is blank. No text or illustrations at all. None.

"There's nothing." I state, flipping the card back and forth as if it will magically make a difference to its blankness.

"You've got to be kidding me," Luke says as I hand it over to him.

"I don't get it." I furrowed my eyebrows.

Luke walks over to the source of music and turns down the volume, "Hey everyone!" everyone in the room, which is roughly only about 20 people, turn to him and stop dancing - probably in hopes to receive an explanation on why the sudden pause on the music.

"Apologies for interrupting! I just want ask who out of you all has gifted the birthday girl this blank card in this vintage-looking envelope?" He yells, waving the teared envelope with the blank card in it.

Everyone exchanges quizzical looks and shaking of heads.

"No? No one? Okay then." Luke gets down from the chair, and resumes the volume of the music. He walks over to me and hands me the envelope with the card, "Either one of your cousins is playing a prank on you or no one really has a clue."

"Well, it would've been nice if there was at least one letter on here. Just anything really. But I doubt it's any of my cousins, they've all collectively just greeted me over the family group chat. " I chuckle.

"Oh well, after that shortly-lived adventure - I am starving. I think it's time we go get ourselves another slice of cake." He hooks our arms together and pulls me along with him towards the cake on the table.

"I agree." I grin.

Not long after, perhaps around midnight - my guests started to say their goodbyes and head home. The energy of the party has withered down, and myself included - needed to get some much needed sleep.

"I hope you've enjoyed your birthday, sweetheart." My Mother says, giving me a hug at the front door of my apartment.

"I have, Mom. Thank you so much."

"We'll text you once we get home, kiddo." Dad says, smiling at me as he gives me a hug.

"Okay. Love you both!"

Both give me wave before turning around and stepping out the front door. I shut the door and lock it, turning around myself and sighing in tiredness.

"I honestly have no idea how you manage to party throughout the week." I admit to Luke.

Luke and myself shared the apartment, so naturally he was already lying on the couch.

"Coffee, Nova. Coffee." He shortly replies.

"Seriously though. My energy is already drained and that wasn't even a crazy party."

Luke sits up and starts to clean up the table, I shortly join him but he promptly stops me from doing so.

"No way. You are the birthday girl, go get some rest. "

"Are you sure? I can help, it won't ta-"

"Dude, seriously. On the rare occasion that I do clean, which is right now, take advantage and just run." He shrugs.

I laugh because it is true, Luke was a rather messy person. He was not extremely messy. But let's just say he does get lazy when it comes to the action of cleaning his surroundings.

So, in this case, he does have a point.

"Okay, fine. Thanks, bestie." I give him a side hug and walk towards the stairs.

Once I reach my bedroom, I fight the urge to just plop down on the bed. I change into comfortable pyjamas, remove my makeup and place my jewellery on the dresser.

I yawn as my body finally greets the bed, I pull the duvet cover over myself. My gaze momentarily meet the journal on my nightstand, which reminds me of blank pages that I could fill to chronicle the events of today. But my fatigue is overpowering that action.

The blank pages make my mind revisit the same state in which the birthday card had, the one that was found in that vintage-looking red envelope. It was strange and made no sense at all. Surely, if it was a prank - then there would be some kind of joke written on the card. But there was nothing on there.

Nothing.

I feel the waves of fatigue slowly take control of my body, and I allow it. My body finally relaxes, as I am lulled into the hopes of a pleasant dream.

There is such serenity in the silence that greets you when you take a break from the world, and get that few moments of sleep. Some dreams I remember in vague details, others I do not remember at all - as if I did not dream at all and just slept in nothingness until the morning sun greets me.

My trail of thought is disrupted by the screeching sound of train tracks, I jolt awake with wide open eyes in panic. The sound is so vivid that It is possible that it is coming from just outside my apartment, which is impossible since I don't live anywhere near a train station.

It takes me a few seconds, but my eyes drink in my surroundings. To the right of me, a wide window that is speeding past the scenery of its exterior. My hands instinctively touch what is beside me - It seems that I am sat on a soft, blue plush wide seat. I already register my surroundings, but my brain cannot fathom the possibility of it.

I am on a train. A moving train that is going on to I don't know where. But the wooden furnishings of the train compartment make me believe that something is out of place. It all seems so new, but so old at the same time. Like an air clinging onto the past. But not quite.

"I found you. . . finally." A voice says, in a tone of sheer relief.

I freeze. My head turns to the source of the voice. The source being the man sat on the seat opposite to me in this train compartment. My eyes drink him in - a wave of thoughts crash through my mind.

His eyes are unmistakably beautiful. The color blue have never looked more ethereal, and the depth of his gaze made anyone maintaining eye contact with him re-adjust themselves. My throat felt dry all of a sudden. His strongly carved-out jawline was a perfect match for the deep cheekbones that adorned his face. A face that seems impossibly symmetrical - sculpted like the Greek gods one would hear about. His black hair felt into place deliciously against his tanned skin. His lips was curled into that infamous smirk to nicely add onto his overwhelmingly attractive aura.

It would be impossible to not know who I am facing.

"I. . .how? you?" Words fail me as I point at him.

He shakes his head, an amused chuckle escapes his mouth, "Hi, honey." He says, that deep southern drawl prominent in his tone.

I take a deep breath, "You're. . . him. Elvis Presley." I could not believe the words coming out of my mouth.

He nods, that smirk of his still very much there, "Yes. Yes I am. " He swiftly gets up, "Hold on."

He leaves the compartment and shortly returns with a glass of water, "Thought you might need it, darling."

He hands it to me and I gladly accept with a 'thank you', but my brain cannot comprehend the situation. While I'm drinking the water, I cannot keep my eyes off him - his aura was intensely surrounding me, but also the flood of questions that my brain begs to be answered.

His blue eyes never left mine, with the depth in his gaze - there was something else. There was a sense of disbelief I see in them, but pure joy mixed in too.

He leans in slightly and with a smile softly says, "I'm glad you're awake, Nova."

next chapter

#elvis x oc #elvis fanfic #elvis presley #elvis x original female character #original female character #fantasy #slow burn #angst #fluff #mystery #elvis fic #chapter 1

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thegirlwithataser · 1 year

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My Thoughts on Wednesday

I just finished Wednesday on Netflix and these are my thoughts.

First, I will say that I was very apprehensive going into this show. The Addams Family is a very well known and well defined story. The characters are extremely set in their personalities and based on the promotional materials for the show, I was concerned about the characterization of Wednesday in particular. Nevertheless, I decided to wait until I’d seen it to form a judgment on the characterization of any of the Addams characters.

My apprehension about the show also stems from the amount of queer-specific promotion that Netflix did prior to the shows release. They hosted a premier event titled ‘WednesGAY’ with RuPaul’s Drag Race alumni in attendance, heavily implying queer representation from the show without explicitly saying it. More than this, they tweeted about the relationship between Enid and Wednesday ambiguously, using phrases like “the opposites attract storyline we need” alongside pictures of Enid and Wednesday, again not explicitly saying that they are romantically linked, but clearly implying it. I’ve been burned before by promotion for a show being different from the actual media, so all of this made me want to tread lightly. Still, I chose to reserve my judgment until I had actually watched the show.

Well, I watched all eight episodes and it was certainly something.

The show has received a tidal wave of praise from everyday people on the internet. I’ve seen multiple people say that it’s the best show they’ve seen all year, heralding the creators as geniuses and begging Netflix for a second season. Now, I’m not here to judge other people’s enjoyment of the show. Art is subjective and if you enjoyed the series then good for you! If you hated it, that’s fine too! I’m not here to talk about whether the show was ‘good’ or ‘bad’. I want to talk about the content of the show itself.

I’m about to use a word that I very rarely use on the internet because it has been warped and bastardized and weaponized to a point where its original definition is nearly obsolete. Queerbait. I know, I know, I’m sorry. But I’m not just throwing it out there, hear me out on this one. Queerbait in its original definition is much more rare than people online would have you believe. Queerbaiting is not when a character is queercoded without actually ever being confirmed as queer, it is not a show using queer themes and subtext without having any actual queer representation. Queerbaiting is, in its simplest definition, when a creator or production company markets a media project as queer representation when it is, in fact, not queer representation. Take for example, a massive media corporation marketing a show all about people being othered by society with a massive queer event. Then to follow that by tweeting out purposefully ambiguously worded tweets about the two female leads of the show. The logical assumption to be made there is that this show has queer representation in it. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t.

I don’t blame people for thinking that Wednesday was going to have queer representation in it. Netflix marketed it in a way that made it seem like that would be the case. Furthermore, the show is about marginalized groups. Nevermore Academy is, in the show's own words, a place for outcasts, those that are different from the normal. They even separate the characters as ‘outcasts’ versus ‘normies’. The main conflict in the storyline is quite literally about hatred for those marginalized groups, the attacks are an obvious allegory for hate crimes. It absolutely makes sense that a show all about society’s outcasts would have queer characters in it. So my question is: Why doesn’t it?

Aside from the fact that the main conflict of the story applies very literally to the queer experience, the show actually takes it a step further. If it weren’t for the queer marketing of the show, I could write off the queer subtext without present queer representation as ignorance. What I can’t write off is the show’s usage of queer trauma in the form of an allegory for conversion therapy. In the episode where students’ families visit them at Nevermore, Enid, Wednesday’s werewolf roommate who is struggling with her werewolf identity, is visited by her mother, a werewolf who is incredibly disappointed in her daughter’s delay in “wolfing out”. As a ‘gift’, she gived Enid a bunch of brochures for ‘werewolf summer camp’, which Enid immediately calls out as being “werewolf conversion therapy”. This is not a subtle metaphor for the conversion therapy queer people have suffered in real life, this is a blatant reference to it. Enid quite literally calls it ‘conversion therapy’. The usage of something that causes very real queer trauma by a show that does nothing to actually further the representation and voice of the queer community is disgusting and honestly kind of ridiculous.

I will acknowledge that the show does technically have two queer characters, and I don’t write this to disregard their existence. One of the students at Nevermore, a friend of Wednesday’s named Eugene, has two queer mothers who visit him while he is in the hospital after being the victim of one of the attacks. That’s great, and a very cute addition to the show, the issue is that they don’t actually do anything in the show. They’re two characters that show up in only two scenes, with a small handful of lines, and absolutely no impact on the storyline. You could take them out of the show and absolutely nothing would change. This is not groundbreaking queer representation, and it’s incredibly disappointing that a show about those othered by society only prepresents queer people in two throwaway characters.

A queer character or even a few would have fit very well into this show and would not have required the storyline to change whatsoever. A queer character in the main cast of characters actually would have furthered the message of the impact of hate on those who exist outside the norm of society. It would have made the queer themes of Enid’s story in particular all the more powerful. A young girl who feels as though she doesn’t fit in with the rest of her family, like there’s something wrong with who she fundamentally is? That’s right out of the queer experience handbook. She even has a scene where her dad pulls her aside after her mom calls her a disappointment and tells her that he loves her no matter who she is. All of this is representative of the queer experience, so why are there no queer characters?

All this is to say that I’m incredibly disappointed. Netflix is a massive media corporation and The Addams Family is an incredibly well known brand. They didn’t have to market the show using queer imagery and allusions to queer representation in order to get viewers. It’s an Addams Family themed project from the mind of Tim Burton starring Jenna Ortega, it would have done well marketed for exactly what it is: a cute offshoot of the Addams Family brand set at a spooky boarding school for outcasts complete with a monster themed murder-mystery and a unique cast of magical characters. It even would have made sense for Netflix to market the show using the love triangle loosely based at the center of the plot between Wednesday, Tyler, and Xavier. Everyone knows viewers love a good love triangle. But that’s not what happened. Instead, Netflix took advantage of it’s extremely large queer viewerbase thanks to actual queer shows and marketed directly to them, knowing full well that what they were implying was not representative of the show itself.

Netflix gets accused of queerbaiting a lot, and for the most part, it’s often false. Wednesday, however, is unfortunately close to that baseline definition I mentioned earlier. It’s incredibly disappointing to see that even a show about the outcasts of society forget about the importance of queer people. Unless, of course, they can be used as marketing to boost numbers and make corporations money without actually doing anything to give a voice to that community.

If you would like to read more, Junkee released an excellent article on it.

https://junkee.com/netflix-wednesday-queerbaiting/345892

#wednesday #netflix #hannah goes on a rant #the addams family #wednesday addams #wednesday 2022 #lgbtq representation #queer discourse #i did not hate the show don’t come at me for that i thought it was fine #if it weren’t for the things mentioned here i probably would have liked it more

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tonkiprogram · 2 years

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The faceless double

#The faceless double full

#The faceless double Pc

This will be either in the form of direct download or PC key - depending on the store of your choice. Will I be able to download The Faceless Double game immediately?Īll shops featured on GG.deals will deliver your game immediately after the payment has been approved. If you notice any product assigned to incorrect region on GG.deals, contact us and we will correct the listing as soon as possible. Before you buy The Faceless Double, please check the store page for any information about activation restrictions in your region. However, some shops don’t share information regarding regional locks in their product feeds and that can lead to some very occasional mistakes. We always try to make sure that price displayed in our comparison is assigned to the correct regions. If the price is still too high, create a price alert and receive an email notification when The Faceless Double matches your budget! Does The Faceless Double cd key activate in my region? Check the price history of the game to determine how good the deal is in relation to historical low offers. All offers already include discounts from vouchers to save you time and money. GG.deals aggregates game keys from over 40 digital distribution stores so you can find the best deals on video games. When all is said and done, is a person really able to “become” anything at all? Is there “something” that you would like to become – even if it meant being cursed? The fact that Miwashiba’s previous game, LiEat, currently boasts over 100,000 downloads worldwide – with no signs of slowing down! – serves as further testament to this. Start up a game after being intrigued by Miwashiba’s cute characters and graphics, and by the end, you’re irretrievably hooked. The largest appeal of △○□× (Miwashiba)’s games would likely be the intricate stories and the miraculously immersive in-game worlds, painstakingly crafted from top to bottom. ・Bonus room (After clearing the game, you can experience a wealth of sub-stories and their respective elements) (Failure to avoid obstacles will cause damage to be incurred, and the game ends once your HP hits 0.) Take advantage of the various faces you’ve acquired to clear these events. There are also some parts of the story in which action game-like events containing puzzle-solving elements will occur. (Giving a wrong answer will cause damage to be incurred, and the game ends once your HP hits 0.) If you’re able to properly fulfill the inhabitants’ requests, you can acquire their respective faces as a reward. Throughout the story, the inhabitants of the strange lands you visit will ask you to solve various puzzles and answer riddles. The choices you make will directly affect the protagonists’ futures. Throughout the story, you will be prompted to make a wide variety of choices. on their adventure and help them to overcome the dangers and problems plaguing each land they visit! Simply put, this is an adventure game in which you advance through the story while solving various puzzles and riddles that pop up along the way.ĭouble and his crew will travel to a variety of strange lands on the quest to find God, and will have to take on the various challenges these lands currently face. The following items are currently being planned for inclusion in the game. Recognized by an extremely unique manner of speaking, that tiny little body moves in ways you’d never expect to be possible. Secretly following Lutchiana on his journey, he regularly sends reports back to Lutchiana’s father.Ī small “person”* whom Double and Cloena encounter while trying to leave the forest. While she comes off as somewhat cold, she also offers helpful advice to Double & co., who are undertaking their first adventure.Ī butler-cum-bodyguard employed by Lutchiana’s family. She stands out with her entire body glowing white. He offers help throughout Double’s journey to find God.Ī young female adventurer with robotic legs.

#The faceless double full

He embarks on a journey to seek out God in order to remove the curse that has been placed upon him.Īs long s he has a vessel, he can also turn into other people.Įnergetic and full of vigor, Cloena is a young boy who thinks of himself as Double’s little brother. His name can be changed.Ī young man who currently consists of only a soul. When Double awakened, he had lost his previous form.Ĭloena proposes to Double that they embark on a journey to seek out God, in order to remove the curse. The people of this world called the comet “God”. It is said that the comet will grant any wish – however, payment for a granted wish takes the form of a curse. In this world, there sometimes appears a comet that grants wishes.

#The faceless double

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atsukawolfcat · 2 years

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The Foolish Kind of Love

Notes: So I am feeling down right now cuz the past couple weeks I have not been able to do what I normally enjoy to do after work as I had mandatory overtime. Literally was in a cycle of wake up, eat, work, sleep and repeat. Makes it slightly worse that I work night shift, and everyone else in my life is the regular shift or school so can't hang out period or barely get an hour with buddies. So this is extremely self-indulgent angst for me, to get it out of my system, because I was thinking over the importer aus and how the reader outright hates Genshin characters afterwards, which is granted VERY fair and normal but.. I can't really see myself hating my favorite characters. Even with all the bad stuff, like yeah for sure its all dependant on a person and how they take a beating and how they would react but I would love them nonetheless. I started Genshin on a whim, cuz I thought the Traveller looked cool and would be neat to play. I had to drop it back after Klee's banner (can't remember when THAT was but I know that was the last banner cuz I got her and dipped) because of life becoming too busy to be paying attention to games so I stopped. I picked it back up just recently, and its become my comfort during these hard times. Anyway, I am babbling, on to story.

Warnings: Female reader, switch between 1st and 3rd POVs, mentions of torture, blood, death, angst/no comfort

Last you remember, you were just coming home from a long day and had just booted up Genshin Impact, a game you were insanely obsessed with to comfort you when you needed to unwind. After getting your daily commissions done and shut everything down as to not waste electricity (and ruin your poor PC), you climb into bed with your last thought being, 'Wouldn't it be amazing to meet everyone in Genshin Impact...' You fell asleep with a smile, expecting the next day to follow the routine as per usual. Instead, you awoke with a start, feeling someone kick your side full force with a gruff, "Wake up, you impostor!"

You gasped and clutched your side, trying to ease the pain. Looking up, you realized you were now face to face with an enraged Zhongli. Unbeknowst to you, while you were asleep, you descended to Teyvat with a meteor shower shining gold, and landed inbetween Mondstadt and Liyue. It alerted both cities, and both establishments had sent parties to investigate what had happened as they saw the most beautiful gold meteor land where you were. Of course, Mondstadt had sent Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, and Klee with Diona as support while Liyue's team was Zhongli, Xiao, Keqing, Ganyu with Qiqi as support. They had investigated the area of the meteor impact, and came across your sleeping form. The team from Mondstadt were able to recognize you as their puppet master, while only Qiqi was able to recognize you from Liyue.

Zhongli had gotten enraged at the sight of you, sleeping so peacefully with the face of his beloved Creator. He could sense you were a regular mortal, as could Xiao and Ganyu. Zhongli approached you, with fury in every step, and kicked your side. The others watched in silence, as they too did not wish to believe you were their Creator. You were too weak to be someone as wonderful as a powerful Creator god. Keqing walked up to Zhongli and placed a hand on his shoulder, to calm him down before he did something else out of character.

"Tie her up! We shall place her in a dungeon and interrogate her!"

Now here you lay, bruised black and purple, surprisingly with no blood or cuts. For 3 days they kept interrogating you, trying to find out what were your motives and how you made that meteor show. You tried to plead your case, heartbroken over the fact the characters you loved dearly were doing this to you, that you had no idea. They decided to finally end this "farce" and Zhongli contacted Raiden Shogun and let Kaeya contact Venti to proceed with an execution.

It took 3 more days to have everything ready, of course you tried everything to stop it to no avail. You pleaded with most of your main team, and hope blossomed in your heart when they agreed. Klee, Mona, Qiqi, Diona, and Diluc all agreed this was insane what they were doing, everyone was so out of character that it was baffling. They were the only exceptions so far, as they were the few with the friendship levels. You haven't met Venti nor Raiden, but they too were part of your main team and you hopes they would be able to stop this madness.

The day arrived, and your hope shattered at the sight of the 2 enraged Archons. Your hands were tied, and your rescue team was nowhere to be found. You chuckled, feeling the shock of it all start to wear off.

"Here, we have the most disgusting criminal, who dared to take after our beloved Creator!" You were getting all kinds of things thrown at you, and you could recognize most of the citizens. Previously kind faces were now scorns of disapproval. Your heart ached and yet.... you still felt it. You still loved these characters, after all that they have done. You laughed at yourself, mostly out of disbelief. 'Ahh, to be a fool so hopeless as I.'

Right as the execution began, you heard an explosion. Looking behind you, you noticed your team coming over to fight. They clashed with the Millelith and other Knights of Favonious, and the other characters joined the fray.

"Why?! Why are you defending that imposter??!" Zhongli swiped his spear at Diluc while he blocked.

"This is wrong! Can't you feel it? You are out of your minds right now, and I believe we need to talk it all over calmly!" Diluc let his Vision flare and flames erupted from his claymore. He swung at Zhongli, but was met with a Geo pillar.

"Klee! Do you understand what you are doing??!" Kaeya dodge out of the way of another explosion, as Klee held onto her Lost Winds book and got another attack ready.

"This is not right! Big sister hasn't done anything wrong!" Klee didn't want to seriously hurt Kaeya, and he could see that.

"They are a criminal Klee, there is no reason for you to worry about a sinner as them."

Suddenly, lightning and wind picked up. Everyone turned to see Venti and Raiden in front of you, staring at you in shock as they felt something familiar now that they were close to you. Rage flooded their system as they both turned to Zhongli.

"HOW DARE YOU LAY YOUR HANDS ON HER HOLINESS" Thunder boomed as lightning flashed behind them, eyes glowing with rage. They both readied their weapons and prepare to rush towards Zhongli. However, they felt someone push them, and their eyes widened at the realization it was you.

"Watch out!"

BOOM

Zhongli had his hand up towards the 2 Archons about to rush him and summoned 2 spears of stone to land on them. But instead of hitting his targets, they landed their hit elsewhere.

Right on your abdomen.

All fighting stopped, as everyone stared at you in shock and horror. You smiled gently and lovingly at everyone, golden blood rushing out of your wound and mouth. "Ah.. I am glad... no one is hurt.."

Your eyes looked around and met with everyone's eyes. You smiled even wider and closed your eyes, letting your starry tears fall.

"I... still love you after all."

You collapsed to the floor, with an anguished cry filling the air.

A/N: SO for clarification here, my main team atm is Klee/Mona/Raiden/Qiqi, with my second being Diluc/Venti/Raiden/Diona(or Qiqi, I built more for Qiqi since her healing work better for me). I wanted to include everyone I use, since depending on the domain or boss I switch around a lot, but that's too much work at 4:30AM. I hope you enjoyed and please don't hesitate to tell me what you thought. Might make part 2 on this one tbh, I feel so much better after writing this. So much so I might get the feeling for fluff/comfort as the next part but meh I tired so not today.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin sagau #genshin impact imposter au #genshin imposter au #GoldenBloodAu #StarryCreatorAU #brainrot #genshin venti #genshin diluc #WolfcatAngst #WolfcatStories #genshin zhongli #genshin qiqi #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin raiden

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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you get kidnapped by the fatui headcanons (diluc & kaeya)

prompt: Diluc and Kaeya headcanons for reader getting kidnapped by the Fatui before they have a chance to confess that they’re in love with her, as requested by @lohai-of-favonius word count: 2.1k (lol “headcanons”) characters featured: diluc, kaeya reader: gender-neutral/female/male (can be read any way, it’s in second-person pov) style: headcanons w/ angst then fluff warnings: possible spoilers for diluc & kaeya related info, light descriptions of injuries, kidnapping, light descriptions of violence

a/n: i made these into headcanons, i hope that’s okay! i was getting a little longwinded on the both of them and i feel like the scenarios would’ve turned into full length fics otherwise haha. i definitely need to learn to write less. i hope i interpreted the prompt well!

“I have a commission awaiting me,” You stated, refusing to make eye contact with the man in front of you as you absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt. “In Liyue. Looking for a missing person. Should be routine stuff, I’ll be back in a week, max.”

You glanced at the man in front of you. If you could notice the concern he wore on his expression, you failed to verbally acknowledge it and instead took one of their hands in yours, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. You don’t have to ring the alarm bells just yet!” You joked, plastering a small smile. As the man in front of you realized his expression was morphing into one of worry, he smoothed over his expression and composed himself.

He knew he couldn’t control your actions, nor had any room in stating which course of action you should take when it came to accepting your commissions. Missing person cases, while a valiant cause, often led to bad news. But, you were a hero at heart and here he stood, merely a friend of yours. Now wasn’t the time for a heartfelt confession of love that he desired to send your way. Doing so would only unfairly manipulate you into staying and he knew you were strong enough to make it back on your own.

But, a week later, as he awaited your arrival at the gates of Mondstadt, worry plagued the man who had fallen in love with your heroic, dutiful spirit over the last few months. As the hours ticked by, he realized he needed to have a new course of action...

KAEYA

Upon you going missing with little to no information, Kaeya would notify the Knights of Favonius, first and foremost. In fact, he speaks to Amber first, as he believes her to be trustworthy and her status as an Outrider makes her most likely to encounter you first.

However, despite his growing concern, he remains optimistic. You’re a strong fighter who has helped him clear countless hilichurl camps. He knows you can handle yourself well. You’re likely just taking longer than expected or picked up extra work in Liyue before returning.

A few days later, Fischl, one of the Adventurer’s Guild’s investigators, approaches him with information on your whereabouts. However, after lots of back and forth between the two, he finally understands (with the help of Oz’s translations) that you’ve been kidnapped by the Fatui.

Kaeya immediately panics, but manages to keep his cool, charming facade up until Fischl leaves his presence. Now left alone in his office in the Knights of Favonius headquarters, Kaeya paces around, trying to think of a plan.

Kaeya wants nothing more than to ride a horse straight into Liyue and search for you, taking down anyone that gets in his way. However, there’s one thing that limits him: Diplomacy.

Kaeya’s a part of the Mondstadtian government, meaning that any action he takes in Liyue directly reflects on the nation of Mondstadt as a whole. It wouldn’t look good to dirty his hands with Fatui blood in a land that isn’t his own. Not only would it be detrimental to his well-being, it would also put the freedom of Mondstadt at risk, which goes directly against the promise he made when being sworn in as a Knight.

Therefore, he has to use the next best thing: Connections. The Adventurer’s Guild has been extremely helpful on intel, he has friends in the Liyue Millileth, and he’s even willing to swallow his pride and reach out to Diluc if it means your safe return.

Diluc, despite his tense relationship with his brother, has always had a soft spot for your presence, so he’s more than willing to help by spreading word around the tavern.

As days go by, Kaeya gets antsy and right when he’s about to say fuck it and mess up the entirety of Sneznhayan-Liyuean-Mondstadtian geopolitical relations by murdering some Fatui to get you back, Amber bursts into his office and doubles over, trying to catch her breath after sprinting to the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

“We found her. With Barbara,” She manages to wheeze out. Without caring for the state of the Outrider’s lungs, Kaeya shoves past her and immediately sprints to the cathedral.

He rushes to the back where he’s met with your figure lying in a hospital bed. As he enters your room, your eyes flutter open to give him a bleary-eyed smile, despite all of your injuries.

He opts for sitting next to you and taking your uninjured hand in his, hesitant to move you a lot in fear that it would only hurt you. However, he wants nothing more than to wrap you in his embrace and never let you go. But instead, he simply brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles lightly, whispering a thank you to Barbatos for your safe return as his lips ghost along your skin.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes as Kaeya plays with your fingers, trying to think of the words to say. You, on the other hand, are content with sitting in silence, far too tired to explain everything that had happened to you over the course of your adventure.

“Who rescued you?” The first words out of Kaeya’s mouth are not a love confession, but rather embittered words, laced with jealousy. He wants nothing more than have to been the knight to bust down the door of wherever you were held captive and whisk you away to safety, solidifying the image of him in your eyes as a protector.

“I rescued myself,” You speak softly, a smirk spreading across your lips. “I beat up those Fatui jerks and escaped myself.”

Kaeya looks up from gazing absentmindedly at your hand and makes eye contact with you. Before he can stop it, a proud laugh escapes from his lips and you begin to laugh with him too. Despite all his worries, you had come back alive and in one piece, just scraped up. You didn’t need him to play protector -- you had yourself. He was just designed to be your cheerleader. As this thought settled into his head, his laughter subsided and a content smile graced his lips.

“I’m in love with you,” He confesses in the comfortable silence between the two of you. Kaeya was normally the type for bald-faced lies, but tonight, he felt as if he wanted nothing more than to peel back his layers of mystery and be honest with you.

You beam at him, rotating your hand in his grip and squeezing back. “I know. Aren’t you lucky that I feel the same way?”

DILUC

When you go missing, Diluc immediately expects foul play. He’s definitely more worrisome than Kaeya, but Diluc is more fearful of losing the one he loves. He’s experienced loss before and has built up walls around himself to avoid losing that again and, while Kaeya does the same, Diluc is far less charming and suave with his words.

Diluc has let you in as both a friend and has fallen in love with you. He doesn’t want to lose you before he can tell you how you’ve broken down his walls.

He trusts you to be able to take care of yourself, but even the mightiest of warriors can be kept off guard. Therefore, Diluc begins using his wealth to find information out about your location and what happened to you. While it might not result in the most reliable information, Diluc knows money can get people to talk more than anything.

Diluc quickly learns that the Fatui are holding you hostage and finds out where. The location is in Liyue, so Diluc does what Diluc does best: He sets out to rescue you himself.

He doesn’t take much with him besides a horse, his claymore, some food and medical supplies, and your weapon of choice. He doesn’t know what shape you’ll be in, but he knows that if you’re even remotely conscious, you’ll want to help him fight.

When he infiltrates where the Fatui are holding you, he’s filled with rage upon seeing your bruised and beaten form in the corner, chained to the wall, as if the Fatui had tried to get information out of you but failed.

Determined to rescue you safely, Diluc realizes that he’d have to fight the multiple Fatui that were now alert to his presence as well. The four Fatui members in the vicinity look like they had already had a rough time capturing you and are less than thrilled at the prospect of fighting Mondstadt’s Darknight Hero.

However, Diluc will be damned if he lets them run. He makes quick work of the Fatui members, thanks to your assistance in fighting as hard as you could before being captured.

Once the Fatui are defeated, Diluc immediately crouches by your figure, breaking the shackles holding you with his claymore.

“My hero,” You sigh in a dreamy voice as a mischievous grin forms on your face, causing Diluc to both sigh in exasperation and flush red at the same time. However, your voice becomes sincere as you utter your next words. “Thank you.”

“You would do the same for me,” Diluc responds, his words filled with truth. Diluc trusts you more than anyone else in Teyvat. He scoops you up bridal-style and carries you over to his horse. The two of you ride back to Dawn Winery in silence, with you sitting in front of him as he holds the reins. His arms around your waist prevent you from falling and the rhythmic motions of the horse lull you into sleep.

You awake in one of Dawn Winery’s beds with fresh bandages. At your bedside, fresh water and fruit had been placed for your consumption upon waking, but you’re not too concerned with either at the moment. You decide to eat some before going to find Diluc, realizing that he’d probably chew you out for not taking care of yourself if he found out.

As soon as you’re finished, you hobble out of bed, determined to find Diluc. You spot him on the balcony and as you creak open the door, Diluc whips his head around and frowns at you.

“You should be in bed,” He chastises, immediately rushing over to you. He notices the fact that you have to lean against the doorframe for support and sighs. “Why would you ever get out of bed with your injuries?”

You let out a small giggle. “I wanted to see my charming hero, who is just as excited to see me too,” You croon, enjoying the way the tips of his ears flush red at your teasing. You reach out your arms to him. “Carry me back?”

Diluc sighs and picks you up once again. “You have me wrapped around your finger,” He murmurs into your hair as he carries you back. You’ve latched onto him like a koala, with his hands supporting your thighs and your arms around his shoulders. You bury your face into his neck and sigh with content, causing him to flush an even deeper shade of red.

Despite his embarrassment about the current situation coloring his face, Diluc realizes that he doesn’t mind if everyone else in the winery sees him carrying you like this. It would showcase that you were clearly his.

As the two of you return to your room, Diluc gently lays you down on the bed and turns to leave, but you grab his wrist before he can make his escape. His face is still flushed a deep scarlet when he turns around to face you, causing you to let out another laugh.

As the morning sun filters in through the window, your eyes twinkle with delight as you stare up at Diluc, happy to be in his presence. Diluc looks down at you, entranced by how carefree you look, despite the hell of what you had just gone through. Despite all the bandages that cover your face, arms, legs, and torso, Diluc views you as a sculpture crafted with the finest materials by the gods themselves.

As he brushes the hair out of your face, Diluc realizes that he would rescue you a thousand times over if he could relive this moment of you being happy, without any of life’s typical worries etched into your face. That’s when he fully realizes how he feels about you, embracing the feelings he had long sought to push away.

“I’m in love with you,” He states, gently cupping your face in his hand. You reach up and cover his hand with yours, smiling softly at him.

“I’m in love with you too, Diluc,” You murmur as he closes the distance between the two of you and presses a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons #diluc #kaeya #genshin impact #*headcanons #*writing #*diluc #*kaeya

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chaedomi · 10 months

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THEIR DELICATE FLOWER

SUMMARY . flowers come in assorted colors and produce sweet nectar. as a result, flowers attract various kinds of butterflies, even the so-called deadly ones. pt. 2

CHARACTERS . THE BLACK AGRICHE (minus Fontaine)

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, violence, death, unhealthy relationships, everyone somehow finding a way to terrorize reader, the agriche family as a whole (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 5.8k+ / MASTERLIST.

YOUR MOTHER was already a laughing stock and a huge disgrace to The Black Agriche. Due to this, she was confined to her room, away from the disgusted eyes that followed her form with every step she took. Her reputation further decreased when word spread in the household that she gave birth to a baby girl… a sickly one at that. Was she trying to ruin the image The Black Agriche carefully built for years!?

When LANTE found out, he was beyond livid. The disdain he held for your mother was very evident as the slightest hint of her has him in a sour mood and heads rolling. Still, he gave her a chance to redeem herself; birth a worthy child was all he commanded. However, the ending result only proved that she was indeed a useless woman.

Nobody could have stopped him from what he did next, not even the wails and desperate pleas of his other wife that knelt helplessly on the ground. Unleashing his bloodlust, your mother was brutally killed. The only ones spared were his other wife and you, as he deemed it foolish to judge you as a newborn. Perhaps your state was only temporary and as you grew older, you would impress him.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Although you weren’t sick, you grew to be a rather fragile individual. The littlest pressure has you crumpling in pain, wheezing breathlessly. A disappointment, really. Nevertheless, he kept giving you another chance to prove yourself. When you fail, he gives another and another, and another, and another-

It was then he realized how lenient he has been with you out of all people. Why he hasn’t diced you into a pile of meat as he claimed each time was beyond him. Every time you made a fault, he found himself scrambling for a reason to excuse your deplorable actions. It was unlikely of him and bothered him to a large extent.

Having enough of the confusing emotions you struck within him, an order was sent out, requesting your presence. Understandably, you were petrified as it was not common for the Head of The Agriche Family to express interest in seeing anyone out of the blue. And with an amused smirk, he watched as you nervously eat the desserts brought by the servants before dismissing you from his private room.

He continued doing this, either inviting you to the room or seeking you outside, the extreme feelings he experienced deepening with every interaction he held with you. Eventually, it escalated to a point where he didn’t want you to leave his side. He soon concluded that he will never understand what aspect of yours drew this uncharacteristic side out of him. And oddly enough… he was at peace with it. Maybe your mother was capable of doing good. Hmm…

Effortlessly, the killer of your mother lifted you from your seat. A touch meant to be comforting caused shockwaves of discomfort and fear to travel up your spine. His expression was unreadable, scrutinizing gaze never leaving your form. Eyes resembling the crimson red of blood, the picture was forever burned into your memory.

“...How strange.”

Unsurprisingly to most, SIERRA was the best friend of your mother. Looking past the horrible rumors that lingered inside the household about your mother, she decided to befriend her. And boy, was she relieved, discovering that your mother was nothing like the rumors had stated, no, your mother was just a sweet, harmless woman. The moments spent were very wholesome and a change of pace from the insanity that lingered in the household.

Though… everything went crashing down when your mother became pregnant with you. Don’t misunderstand Sierra… she was overjoyed over the announcement of you. What frightened her so much was that your mother fell terribly ill and without much reason. When your mother expressed her concerns about your health, Sierra also felt dread, wanting nothing horrible to happen to you. While it’s not related to health, Sierra knew what it’s like to be worried about your child’s well-being; she knew it all too well. Bless her kind-hearted soul, she hoped your mother would never experience the pain she was put through.

But, it appeared as though her prayers and hopes were all for naught as you were born sickly and frail. And aware of the monstrosity that will arise afterward, her heart shattered into a million pieces. Still, her knowledge of this evil pattern will never emotionally nor mentally prepare her for the disastrous event. Oh, she hated how powerless she was. Her screams, wails, and pleas were futile, having to witness the execution of her beloved friend at the hands of her husband. Why must the people she loves suffer so much?

She was left alone in the room, sobbing into her palm. Had it not been for the soft wails of your newborn self, she would have remained there on the ground, allowing the coolness of the tiles to seep onto her skin as she wept to her heart’s content. Frantically leaping to her feet and momentarily pushing her grief aside, she scooped your bundled self in her arms, listening to you calm down as a woeful frown etched itself onto her lips. Blinking away the stray tears in the corner of her eyes, she hugged you closer to her chest, rocking you slowly. She might as well enjoy what was left of her beloved friend.

History surely had its cruel way of repeating itself. As you aged, you developed a lovely personality; innocent and pure, contrasting the sadistic and aggressive personas the rest of your family members owned. Why it destroyed her the way it did was because your traits were on par with her deceased son, Ashil. Just what did she do to relive such a nightmare?

By some miracle, Lante seemed to favor you tremendously. The stress that was lifted from her shoulders was refreshing. …It was especially difficult to ignore how extremely clingy Sierra was toward you. Every hour of the day, every second, Sierra insisted to be by your side, never allowing you a moment of isolation. Even so, her clinginess will never compare to how overprotective she was. God forbid if you got injured in her sight, or somehow managed to sneak away from her watchful eyes for too long. She will fall into hysterics, holding onto the little thread of sanity she possessed as she smothers you with overbearing attention.

You almost screamed in terror at the figure looming above you. Thankfully, your brain reacted quicker as you identified the figure as your stepmother. What mostly unnerved you was not the fact that she most likely might have been watching you sleep, but how… lifeless she looked. You didn’t know she was able to make such a face. Quietly, you called out to her which successfully snapped her out of her trance. Wordlessly, the woman sunk to her knees and wrapped her arms around your small body, stuffing her face in your torso. Regardless of your utter confusion as to why she visited you in the dead of night, you returned the gesture, spurring her to tears. Doesn’t look like she’ll be leaving anytime soon…

“...It could have been you as well…”

When Sierra says she’s going to stay with you, she means that she is staying with you. She does a good job of it as well, much to your dismay. But her whimpers every time you tried to run away always filled you with guilt, grounding you next to her. And thus, due to Sierra’s stubbornness to leave you alone, this is how MARIA met you.

It was a bright and sunny day, the flowers were in season, and birds were chirping merrily… it was the perfect condition to host a tea party! What better way to relax under this glorious weather than to enjoy tea and desserts with her favorite guests? So excitedly, Maria sent invitations.

Sierra was one of the last few to arrive. When Maria went to greet her, what she wasn’t expecting was two instead of one. Honestly speaking… Maria did not care for both you and your mother. Yes, she has heard of the gossip of your mother circulating among the Agriche Wives, and yes, she has heard the talk of your birth. But for someone who has never seen you or your mother before, there was only so much fuel she could add to the fire.

Her eyebrows were raised as Sierra timidly states that she brought someone along. Since Sierra was mostly alone, it was a surprise to her. Though all questions died down in her throat when she caught a glimpse of you.

The umbrella that was tightly grasped in her hand fell to the ground, her jaw slackening as she stared at you with blown eyes. …Was it even possible to be more beautiful than Sierra and her daughter combined!? You were just as pretty as a flower!

Not much explanation was needed, she immediately fell head over heels for you. Forget the fact you came uninvited, come relax and have some tea! Squealing with a skip in her step, she snatched you from Sierra's side, ushering you to a comfortable seat where she and all the ladies present fussed over you. …You left with a stomach bursting from sweets that day…

Unfortunately, gaining Maria's affection means you're subjected to her bizarre actions. If you had Sierra visiting your room in the dead of night, you had Maria visiting your room at the crack of dawn. You've woken up to her beaming face far too many times to count…

Braiding your hair, dressing up, and playing pretend are Maria's favorite activities with you and they always end with her pinching your cheeks and kissing them before she leaves. She really wanted to lock you up for herself, a cute little doll all for her to admire, pamper and cherish.

Maria was very cheerful and a bit eccentric, so you mostly felt at peace in her presence. …But that all changed when you stayed at a party longer than you should have. What you saw was like a wake-up call for you, unless they were Sierra, no matter how sweet they make themselves appear, they were still an Agriche, dehumanized, and evil.

You suddenly felt the dessert you ate creep up your throat as you stared at the servant's corpse... what was left of it, at least. The spoon you used to eat the treat slipped from your fingers, falling onto the table with a loud rattle. Your second stepmother, the murderer, was unbothered by it all, a devilish smile occupying her doll-like features, calming dishing out orders for the servant’s body to be fed to the beastly creatures that resided inside the mansion. At the sight of you, her sadistic smile morphed into one filled with pure adoration. She made her way to you giddily and squeezed you into a hug, uncaring of the evidence of her killing smearing all over your body. Frozen, you just stood there as she lovingly pressed a sweet kiss on your cheek.

"My! Aren't you such a Cutie Pie!"

The first time she saw you, she only gave you a glance… before she almost stumbled over as she did a double take. Once she regained her composure, in quick, long strides, ROXANA closed the distance between you both, firmly placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. You flinched, nearly shooting off the ground. The hallways were pretty much empty, so where the hell did she randomly emerge from?

Her stare intimidated you as her eyes were practically glaring holes into your body. It remained that way for a while, her hand on your shoulder as she stared, you, too scared out of your mind to even breathe properly. Soon, her hard stare turned soft, her reddened lips curling into her iconic smile.

Do you know how long she has waited to see you? The answer, she’s been waiting for years. The Abysmal Flower is a book that was offered to her by a school friend in her previous life… to which she initially detested reading because of the triggering contents the novel entailed… but she got past that. Because of all the dark themes, your character was an abnormality in the novel so to speak, especially when you were a member of The Black Agriche. The Black Agriche was known for its criminal activities… Fraud, Theft, Drugs & Poison, and most importantly murder, taking away lives without batting an eyelid.

You didn't belong with that, choosing peace as a method rather than violence. You were just a poor unfortunate soul inside a den filled with savages. It was a custom tradition in the household to eliminate those who stood outside their reputation as it displayed signs of weakness. But you remained unharmed by their gruesome acts. You see, the book portrayed you as possessing this indescribable charm where people feel more inclined to protect you than to harm you. Clearly, The Black Agriche was under this so-called charm of yours. It also extended to the novel’s heroine, Sylvia, who despite hating The Black Agriche, fell in love with you because of your angelic nature, viewing you as a younger sibling. Sadly, blinded by her rage and sorrow over the news of her brother’s killing, she wiped you out with the rest… falling into deeper despair after realizing she destroyed you as well.

Admittingly, Roxana held a grudge over Sylvia and the authors for that stunt. You were her favorite character by far and had so much potential. So even though the alarms blared loudly as her mind registered that she reincarnated as an Agriche and the trials that come along with the name, she was buzzing from glee now that she had a chance to see you… years after.

But after that ‘incident’ and the daily nuisances, she ought to handle for survival, the thought of you slowly slipped from her mind… until now. While no one will stupidly lay a finger on you inside the household, the same cannot be said for some outside the household. The Black Agriche has made quite the amount of enemies, after all. You being the favored one, including your predicament will make you a big target of these enemies. Thus, Roxana does her best to add extra security to your life.

Whenever she gets the chance, she will constantly check on you. If not, she will simply send one of her butterflies to always be updated about your whereabouts. Don’t you see? Whatever she does, it’s done in your favor… So, please enlighten her as to why you appear to be so antsy around her. She hasn’t done anything wrong, has she? She didn’t know you had a dramatic side… but, oh well, that’s endearing too.

She was nice to you, very very nice. For some reason though, it scared you more than it flattered you. You were unsure of why, but your instincts always screamed at you to avoid the blonde. She hasn’t done anything for you to fear her, only spoiling you with exquisite gifts and jewelry. But after what happened with your second stepmother… you didn’t want to take chances. A gloved thumb distracted you from your thoughts, gently caressing your cheek. Lifting your gaze, you peered into reddened hues, an emotion you were unable to decipher swirling in them. She smiled at you fondly, cooing even. Placing your hands on your lap, you smiled back, ignoring the nauseating churn in your stomach.

“Did I perhaps do something wrong? No? Then you don’t mind staying longer with your Big Sister, right~?”

Roxana’s extreme adoration for you had JEREMY torn between anxiety and anger. It’s already bad enough that he had to share his sister’s attention with the god-forsaken Blue Pedelian but now a whiny baby has come to steal the remainder of his spotlight!? He’s NOT happy. I mean, he was there longer than both you AND him. Though, it seems that his sister favors you more than the horny dog… Not that it makes it any better. It’s still annoying.

Jeremy has mentioned this several times to his sister, mostly about you. It was obvious he was jealous, but his complaints stemmed deeper than jealousy, it was fear that his sister will leave him if she attaches herself to others. Growing up in a loveless household was beyond excruciating and his sister, being the first one to treat him like a human and not a weapon, he continuously yearned for her affection. He didn’t want to return to what it was before, and if denying his sister interactions with others stopped that, he’s all in for it. Reassuring words from his sister, however, washed away the little panic inside him.

Still, it lingered on his mind, you. His sister doesn’t mention anyone just like that; if she does, it certainly isn’t to that extent. She’s always smiling, her eyes glitter in excitement, and she rambles on and on, very unusual for her. At least you make her happy… Nevermind. He’s still bitter about the whole thing.

In time, he finally asks his sister if he can meet the person that caught her eye. It could be anyone, considering the ungodly amount of siblings he had and since she was heading to where you were located, he might as well tag along too. His sister’s hesitation didn’t escape his eye, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Looks like you held more value to her than he first presumed…

After contemplating her answer for a while, she gave in, beckoning him closer with a finger. As they walked together, she told him you were the shy type, and it's highly advised that he doesn't do something to overwhelm you. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not… but he felt as though there was a subtle threat underlying her words… Soon enough, they arrived at your bedroom doors.

What did you look like? What kind of person truly are you? His sister paints you a good light, going so far saying you were an angel descended from the heavens. But what if there was a dark side you skillfully concealed? That you were just another savage under the disguise of an innocent? It’s not like he doubted his sister’s judgment… just simply concerned for her well-being.

Well, he'll be damned. And slightly ashamed too. Look at you… you were so frail… and gentle too. The way you touched Roxana and spoke with her, (god, your VOICE!) was so soft, musical, and pleasing to the ears. He kind of flinched when the conversation held between you and his sister switched to him, his sister gesturing to him with a hand. His heart warmed, seeing how your big-doe eyes looked at him, the beautiful hue of them twinkling with curiosity.

Most recoil from his touch but, you reached out to him, interlacing your tiny fingers with his. He noticed how your hand trembled, looks like Roxana was correct, you were the shy type. Even so, you overcame your anxiety to greet him! Him! The final blow was the sweet giggle that escaped your lips, swinging your hand in his. Forget Angel, you were Heaven Sent.

It was very silly how easily he fell under your control, but can you blame him? When was the last time someone treated him with genuine kindness and affection other than his sister? He visited you a lot after that, to your surprise. You thought it was a one-time thing, but here he is, bringing spoils and stuffed animals every day. At that point, you had to ask for another room to store your gifts from him… Jokes and banter are common between you two, him doing most of the interaction, pinching your cheeks, and tickling your sides. Jeremy… turns out to be more childish than you, who is a child, and that said something. It amazed you when he’s on the verge of falling onto the ground and crying out whenever you declined his time with you.

Then there were instances that he was similar to a cat, cute and loving to the people he cherishes, pissy and hostile to others when they come near his cherished. What you hated about him was his ugly jealousy streak and the damage he brings with it. It can annoying when someone you like doesn’t spend much time with you as you’d like, but was it really worth bashing their head into the floor?

You walked hand-in-hand with your brother who hummed merrily. As for you, you were in a state of shock, silent as your mind tried to process what had happened prior earlier. Why did he… kill the servant? They were being nice to you were they not? It was just a lovely fresh-picked flower they wanted to gift out of the goodness of their heart. To you, you thought it was the prettiest one you’ve ever seen so far, the vibrant color palette reminding you of yourself. Mesmerized you were very close to taking the pretty thing, your chubby hands reaching to clasp at the plant. In the BLINK of an eye, the servant was no longer in their spot, the flower soaking in a puddle of blood on the ground, and your hands outstretched. The liquid was also splattered on your face, little droplets spluttered on your dress. In front of you was your brother, an enraged face overtaking his features. And underneath his boot was… the servant that offered the flower to you. What just happened…? Shrugging off how your irises dilated as he came closer, he knelt to the ground, scooping the flower from its puddle. And with a beaming smile, he patted your head, giving the bloodied flower to you instead.

“They’re out of their fuckin’ minds if they think I’d allow them to taint you.”

After your encounter with Roxana, she basically took over the role of bodyguard away from Sierra. Then you appreciated Sierra more, for mingling in Roxana’s presence had you stiffer than a board. The evening was a stormy one, the raindrops harshly beating against the roof, the low rumbles of thunder, and the faint flashes of lightning. For some odd reason, Roxana wanted to take a walk with you in this weather. You didn’t want to, but one word of hers led to another, and now you’re here. Too bad you were too scared to speak up.

Suddenly, she told you she had to run a small errand. It won’t take long, she insisted, and just like that, you were left “unsupervised” in the middle of the hallway. When you wanted to be left alone, you didn’t mean it like this. The hallways were eerily vacant and your room was nowhere nearby. The setting didn’t ease your growing anxiety; it was straight out of a horror novel where anything was capable of jumping you at any given moment. So… imagine how your soul left your body when you glanced over your shoulder, only to make eye contact with a face.

Gasping loudly, you spun around and stumbled backward, your small hands clutching at your clothes. Hair dark as the night sky, eyes red as blood… How did your father manage to silence his footsteps…? And most importantly, what could he possibly want from you…? The deep frown he wore is a bad sign… Did you finally manage to push your father over the edge!?

The distant sound of heels hastily clacking against the floor trickled into your ears. Shortly after Roxana came into view, panting heavily as she shot a firey glare at the figure in front of you followed by a trail of threats. How did she have the courage to do that!? Did she not fear your father’s wrath? More so, why was he not responding? And who is this DION!? Too confused to study your fear of your sister when she lifted you into her arms, you wrapped your arms around her neck staring at a smirk creeping on who you assumed to be your father’s face.

The days continued smoothly (as the routine with Lante, Sierra, Maria, Roxana, and Jeremy occurred too often to be considered strange) and you lived your life as best as possible. But that was just the calm before the storm…

Jumping from your seat, the porcelain cup slipped from your hands, shattering on the ground and spilling the milk. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your skin grew ice cold. Maria, Sierra, and the women present at the tea party also freaked out, the former rushing to both of your sides as they attempted to soothe your panicking self.

But that was a mistake for as soon as Maria touched you, you broke down into a fit of tears. They were confused, you were fine seconds ago! Was it perhaps the milk you drank with your biscuits that caused this!? Well, that certainly wouldn't slip by!

However, was that the answer to your panic? No. Someone was… watching you. It wasn't a normal glance… but rather one that instilled apprehensiveness in the hearts of numerous, and unfortunately, it was geared toward you. Left, right, and back, you frantically looked around, trying to identify who it was the person that had you so distraught. But, you couldn't, which made you cry harder and flail your arms about.

You knew the situation was very bad that the noise caught the attention of Lante, summoning him inside the greenhouse where the tea party was hosted. He was disgruntled, unsure of what to do. He didn't train himself to be a proper parent, so how should he know how to tame a crying child no less?

The best option he thought of was to carry you to your bed quarters and your stepmothers quickly complied, Maria whispering sweet nothings into your ears as she carried you, and Sierra lurking not too far behind.

There was some fun in isolation, you thought, as you found solace in the confinement of your room. Whenever you tried to stay outside in the company of others, so did the feeling of being watched return, the dread worsening the smaller the crowd gets. The feeling always disappeared when you were alone in your room, or by yourself… hold on, did you just hear your bedroom door lock?

This man was not your father. It made sense now why your sister treated him with disrespect. If he was not your father, could he possibly be one of your siblings? Though he looks like him, a carbon copy you think, he was sure far worse than your father in personality. Dull, apathetic, and very sadistic. He had no regard for life either as he shamelessly killed the maid assigned to you in front of your eyes. Even when the blood splattered on his face, he showed no emotion, maintaining eye contact with you. Could he be the one that was watching you all this time? Why did he wait to approach you when you were alone? Have you upset him in some way? Was he going to slaughter you next? All these questions ran through your head, unknowingly letting the tears gathered in your eyes run down your cheeks. This caught his attention, the smirk you remembered him having on your first encounter spreading on his lips. Kneeling in front of your bed, uncaring of how you trembled in his company, he reached out a hand, rubbing his finger tenderly against your cheek. It was sick how he found satisfaction that he evoked such a reaction from you. A teardrop fell onto his finger and he brought it to his lips, tasting it. What was meant to be salty, the flavor burst with sweetness in his mouth.

“I wonder what other reactions I can get from you.”

Weak… Fragile… Gentle… Pure… Innocent… How are you surviving in this god-forsaken household? It’s even more amusing to witness the same man, her father, protect what he firmly strived to kill. And that’s how GRISELDA formed a great interest in you, the youngest of The Black Agriche. She remembers clearly, a conversation she held with one of her younger half-sisters years ago, the person responsible for knocking her out of her top three rankings. Smiling happily with her fingers interlaced underneath her chin, she promised to show her something that will greatly humor her.

You may not have been the ‘thing’ her sister was referring to, nevertheless, it was not an unwelcomed one. Ah, she wonders, how long has it been since she has had that spark of interest? The day her sibling died in front of her eyes, feelings such as love became foreign to her. But, you? You restored these lost feelings of hers from first sight. She was stupefied when it happened, her body overflowing with spontaneous bursts of energy.

Truth be told, she had an eye on you for the longest while now, aching to meet you in person at least once. But, curse her hectic schedule to hell, leaving her no choice but to satisfy her curiosity about you from the little stories told by her other half-siblings. For the first time, she had felt a sense of ugly envy… Will they know of it though? No.

Fate was cruel to her, she thinks. First, to take away her sibling she loved, and second, to present, oh, such an ethereal gift, just to keep it away from her arm's length having to watch down on you from the villa’s balcony, scurrying about with her other siblings. For now, she’ll keep it that way, looking at you with a sober expression from afar, but still offering you exquisite gifts to make you aware of her existence.

It was another gift that seemed to spawn alive onto your dressing table, probably from your anonymous gift-giver. You had asked your siblings, including your stepmother who would occasionally step inside if they were the ones responsible, to which they all responded with a ‘no.’ You wondered if it were a servant that did it, but after what transpired with the previous one, you doubted anyone outside your family will be willing to take such a risk. This time, the gift was sitting in a glass vase, filled with water. In the vase were the flowers you adored with the lovely aroma. Happily, you whiffed the scent. Picking up the note that came with the gift, it read, ‘These flowers reminded me of you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do… Sincerely, Griselda.’

“Don’t die on me, Little Sister. I won’t allow it~”

You were very confused to see a red-headed girl on her hands and knees, panting heavily for air. She was shaken too, a sickly color to her pale skin and the cold sweat that ran down the exposed parts of her body. But as you caught the dim red glow in the corner of your eye, as well as the faint sound of wings flapping, you were able to put two-and-two together; the girl was most likely tormented by Roxana’s infamous killer butterflies.

You pitied her, knowing what those butterflies were capable of, one almost biting your finger clean off your hand in one instance. But, that was just a sole butterfly you dealt with, she must have encountered several. And from one victim to another, you approached her shaking form in the hopes of comforting her.

Though… it seems she didn’t appreciate the sentiment… the fiery stare she gave you in response shut you up quickly and almost made you lose your bowels right there. Screaming insults and curses, she sprang to her feet and shoved past you, storming off to where she wanted to go. You just stood there in your spot, wide-eyed with your hands on your chest. Well, that’s what you get for roping yourself into situations that didn’t concern you…

From her outburst, you didn’t anticipate seeing her again, nor do you think she would want to see you. So her interrupting the tea party with yourself in the garden the next day startled you. Overcoming your shock, you smiled at her and invited her to join you and enjoy a couple of biscuits. She stuck her nose into the air and gawked at you as though you’d grown two heads… but still agreed. You did most of the talking, shortly learning her name, CHARLOTTE, and her exchanging haughty remarks here and then. It was a decent event…

If only you knew what exactly your brief display of kindness unconsciously resigned yourself to. Charlotte… was awfully demanding. After the tea party, Charlotte appeared by you very frequently, ordering that you drop whatever it was you were doing, and spend time with her. It could be one of the most important things you had to handle and she would not care. You could be with one of your siblings and she would not care. You could be sick and worn out, she will NOT care. If she wants to be with you, it will be now, no time for discussion. Just TRY to say no, it won’t do you any good. You said yes a lot, mostly because of your fear of what she will do if you deprive her of what she desired. She already made you petrified with a glare, how much worse will it be once she reaches her limit and lashes out? You have no ability to defend yourself when the time comes, so why should you cause trouble? Give in and avoid the unnecessary problem.

She was shaking with fury, hands angrily pulling at her puffy pigtails. How dare they…? HOW DARE THEY!? Are they stupid!? What do you mean you can’t spend time with her!? YOU BOTH ALWAYS SPEND TIME TOGETHER AT THIS TIME! WHY was she and him getting in her way of being with YOU!? They have to be stupid! While she went through an internal crisis, you clutched at your clothes, tears pricking at your eyes. Her green eyes were practically glowing with wrath from the hatred she harbored for your older sister and brother! She was also on the verge of snapping, that you can tell. She was losing all of her morality the longer they denied her what she wanted. You would have excused yourself long ago, but when she’s like this, that’s not the ideal option, for she may do something regrettable to you. Stepping behind your sister, your ears twitched at the sound of a whip cracking, inclusive of a butterflies’ wings, indicating the start of a full-on brawl.

“GO AWAY! Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something!?”

And finally… YOU! How do you feel about your family's attention to you? You never saw how other families interact with their kin… but you knew that what your family was doing was wrong. It was dangerous and obsessive. Would you tell them that? No. Unless you wish to suffer a fate worse than death by confronting them, you will keep your silence until all the odds are in your favor.

They were the butterflies, your mannerisms and kindness as the sweet nectar and color that attracted them, and you, their delicate flower.

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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Hi. You made a post a couple of days ago about how queer historical fiction doesnt need to be defined only by homophobia. Can you expand on that a bit maybe? Because it seems interesting and important, but I'm a little confused as to whether that is responsible to the past and showing how things have changed over time. Anyway this probably isn't very clear, but I hope its not insulting. Have a good day :)

Hiya. I assume you're referring to this post, yes? I think the main parameters of my argument were set out pretty clearly there, but sure, I'm happy to expand on it. Because I'm a little curious as to why you think that writing a queer narrative (especially a queer fictional narrative) that doesn't make much reference to or even incorporate explicit homophobia is (implicitly) not being "responsible to the past." I've certainly made several posts on this topic before, but as ever, my thoughts and research materials change over time. So, okay.

(Note: I am a professional historian with a PhD, a book contract for an academic monograph on medieval/early modern queer history, and soon-to-be-several peer-reviewed publications on medieval queer history. In other words, I'm not just talking out of my ass here.)

As I noted in that post, first of all, the growing emphasis on "accuracy" in historical fiction and historically based media is... a mixed bag. Not least because it only seems to be applied in the Game of Thrones fashion, where the only "accurate" history is that which is misogynistic, bloody, filthy, rampantly intolerant of competing beliefs, and has no room for women, people of color, sexual minorities, or anyone else who has become subject to hot-button social discourse today. (I wrote a critical post awhile ago about the Netflix show Cursed, ripping into it for even trying to pretend that a show based on the Arthurian legends was "historically accurate" and for doing so in the most simplistic and reductive way possible.) This says far more about our own ideas of the past, rather than what it was actually like, but oh boy will you get pushback if you try to question that basic premise. As other people have noted, you can mix up the archaeological/social/linguistic/cultural/material stuff all you like, but the instant you challenge the ingrained social ideas about The Bad Medieval Era, cue the screaming.

I've been a longtime ASOIAF fan, but I do genuinely deplore the effect that it (and the show, which was by far the worst offender) has had on popular culture and widespread perceptions of medieval history. When it comes to queer history specifically, we actually do not know that much, either positive or negative, about how ordinary medieval people regarded these individuals, proto-communities, and practices. Where we do have evidence that isn't just clerical moralists fulminating against sodomy (and trying to extrapolate a society-wide attitude toward homosexuality from those sources is exactly like reading extreme right-wing anti-gay preachers today and basing your conclusions about queer life in 2021 only on those), it is genuinely mixed and contradictory. See this discussion post I likewise wrote a while ago. Queerness, queer behavior, queer-behaving individuals have always existed in history, and labeling them "queer" is only an analytical conceit that represents their strangeness to us here in the 21st century, when these categories of exclusion and difference have been stringently constructed and applied, in a way that is very far from what supposedly "always" existed in the past.

Basically, we need to get rid of the idea that there was only one empirical and factual past, and that historians are "rewriting" or "changing" or "misrepresenting" it when they produce narratives that challenge hegemonic perspectives. This is why producing good historical analysis is a skill that takes genuine training (and why it's so undervalued in a late-capitalist society that would prefer you did anything but reflect on the past). As I also said in the post to which you refer, "homophobia" as a structural conceit can't exist prior to its invention as an analytical term, if we're treating queerness as some kind of modern aberration that can't be reliably talked about until "homosexual" gained currency in the late 19th century. If there's no pre-19th century "homosexuality," then ipso facto, there can be no pre-19th-century "homophobia" either. Which one is it? Spoiler alert: there are still both things, because people are people, but just as the behavior itself is complicated in the premodern past, so too is the reaction to it, and it is certainly not automatic rejection at all times.

Hence when it comes to fiction, queer authors have no responsibility (and in my case, certainly no desire) to uncritically replicate (demonstrably false!) narratives insisting that we were always miserable, oppressed, ostracised, murdered, or simply forgotten about in the premodern world. Queer characters, especially historical queer characters, do not have to constantly function as a political mouthpiece for us to claim that things are so much better today (true in some cases, not at all in the others) and that modernity "automatically" evolved to a more "enlightened" stance (definitely not true). As we have seen with the recent resurgence of fascism, authoritarianism, nationalism, and xenophobia around the world, along with the desperate battle by the right wing to re-litigate abortion, gay rights, etc., social attitudes do not form in a vacuum and do not just automatically become more progressive. They move backward, forward, and side to side, depending on the needs of the societies that produce them, and periods of instability, violence, sickness, and poverty lead to more regressive and hardline attitudes, as people act out of fear and insularity. It is a bad human habit that we have not been able to break over thousands of years, but "[social] things in the past were Bad but now have become Good" just... isn't true.

After all, nobody feels the need to constantly add subtextual disclaimers or "don't worry, I personally don't support this attitude/action" implied authorial notes in modern romances, despite the cornucopia of social problems we have today, and despite the complicated attitude of the modern world toward LGBTQ people. If an author's only reason for including "period typical homophobia" (and as we've discussed, there's no such thing before the 19th century) is that they think it should be there, that is an attitude that needs to be challenged and examined more closely. We are not obliged to only produce works that represent a downtrodden past, even if the end message is triumphal. It's the same way we got so tired of rape scenes being used to make a female character "stronger." Just because those things existed (and do exist!), doesn't mean you have to submit every single character to those humiliations in some twisted name of accuracy.

Yes, as I have always said, prejudices have existed throughout history, sometimes violently so. But that is not the whole story, and writing things that center only on the imagined or perceived oppression is not, at this point, accurate OR helpful. Once again, I note that this is specifically talking about fiction. If real-life queer people are writing about their own experiences, which are oftentimes complex, that's not a question of "representation," it's a question of factual memoir and personal history. You can't attack someone for being "problematic" when they are writing about their own lived experience, which is something a younger generation of queer people doesn't really seem to get. They also often don't realise how drastically things have changed even in my own lifetime, per the tags on my reblog about Brokeback Mountain, and especially in media/TV.

However, if you are writing fiction about queer people, especially pre-20th century queer people, and you feel like you have to make them miserable just to be "responsible to the past," I would kindly suggest that is not actually true at all, and feeds into a dangerous narrative that suggests everything "back then" was bad and now it's fine. There are more stories to tell than just suffering, queer characters do not have to exist solely as a corollary for (inaccurate) political/social commentary on the premodern past, and they can and should be depicted as living their lives relatively how they wanted to, despite the expected difficulties and roadblocks. That is just as accurate, if sometimes not more so, than "they suffered, the end," and it's something that we all need to be more willing to embrace.

#history #medieval history #queer history #meta #long post #anonymous #ask

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realcube · 3 years

Text

sleepy haikyuu headcanons 💤

pairings: nishinoya x reader, tendō x reader, kageyama x reader

tw// swearing, violence(?), she//her reader, angst, overthinking, fluff

Yū Nishinoya

midnight pillow fights with Noya 💓

i could leave at that but i shall elaborate

whenever you sleepover at his house (or vice versa), every time y’all say that you are gonna pull an all-nighter and have chaotic fun

but it never works because being chaotic requires a lot of energy, so you both end up falling asleep at like 2AM-ish 🥱

the closest that y’all have gotten to an all-nighter is 5AM

anyway, it’s not a tradition - more like something that just ends up happening every time Noya is over, perhaps a curse lol

but at some time of night, you’ll say something to irk Noya and he’ll throw/hit you with a pillow

not to intentionally start shit but just as playful ‘shut up’ sorta thing

but something about the sharp impact of the pillow just pisses you off and you instinctively launch a pillow right back at him and it’s always a bit harder than you meant for it to be

thus, a pillow fight ensues

Noya had always envisioned a pillow fight with a female as a playful, sensual experience

but there was absolutely nothing playful or sensual about the way you powerbombed him and then proceeded to suffocate him with your pillow

you would both be feistily beating each other with the pillow, the room filling with your battle cries and screams ╰（‵□′）╯

and this would only end once both of your harsh, quick hits turned sloppy and tired

eventually, you’d both just drop unconscious during the fight and wake up in the weirdest positions

Satori Tendō

he is the self-certified ‘worst cuddler’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

not only is he extremely sensitive to temperature, he’s also filled with too much energy to just stay in the same position with you for god knows how long

it’s not that he didn’t like to cuddle, though. 🥺 i mean, nothing made him feel more safe than you in his arms but he was just unable to stop himself from getting restless when he did it for too long

but there were some nights that he wasn’t as fidgety, though

most of the time, it was after a big volleyball game or a hard day at practise and he was absolutely exhausted (_　_)。゜zｚＺ

he’d literally just detours to your house to catch up like he usually does but his demeanour clearly isn’t the same when he’s worn out so you invite him in for a few minutes and he’d gladly (and gratefully) accepts

he’d just flop down on the couch beside you, his arms just automatically finding your waist and thoughtlessly pulling you against his chest as he laid back, staring at the ceiling

he found himself muttering random things about his day when you asked him, but nothing he said seemed to be in chronological order - unless he brushed his teeth during volleyball practise, which - now that you think about it - doesn’t sound too out of character for him.

his hand found it’s way into your hair and started caressing your scalp, slowly drifting off as the little tune you hummed into his shoulder sent relaxing vibration throughout his body (￣o￣) . z Z

and this wasn’t a one-time thing either, whenever he comes to your house drained from practise, a similar chain of events always end up happening

the only difference being that sometimes it was in your bed rather than on the couch

Tobio Kageyama

i feel like bb has nightmares, like frequently 🥺

i mean, if i was him i’d have nightmares too; he has so much important shit riding on his performance - it’s a miracle that this man can even sleep with how much stress he must be under

like, he’s kinda failing school/ he doesn’t have the best grades and if he doesn’t do well on tests then his opportunity to go to camps and train volleyball could be taken

speaking of volleyball, he probably is so stressed from being a part of a team and having people rely on him - not the mention that he clearly isn’t very good at processing his feelings considering that he expresses most negative emotion he feels towards Hinata in the form of anger

then there is the pressure of keeping his relationships and not naturally distancing himself from the people he loves

like you, for example

he goes to bed with all these horrible thoughts in his head and whenever he tries to think positive, it always backfires

he’ll be like ‘i’m the worst person to be around, it’s clear nobody likes me.’

then he kinda shakes it off like, ‘wait, no. don’t think that. i know that (Y/N) loves me and i love her back.’

but his mind never leaves him alone, ‘am i even sure she loves me? i mean, i act so stand-offish towards her - yeah, she probably barely tolerates me. and she was talking about hinata’s spike yesterday, she’s probably going to dump me for him.’

it was a heart-wrenching thought but what could kageyama do?

for now, he’d just lie down beside you on your bed as you scrolled away on your phone, completely unaware that he just mentally rehearsed how he was going to react when you broke up with him

“goodnight, kags. love you.” you hummed, turning around to place a kiss on his cheeks like you always do when he sleeps over

kageyama nodded, trying to act cool and collected despite the fact he was internally nervous as hell, “night, (y/n).” he paused, trying his best to lift the corners of his lips into a kind - rather than intimidating - smile, “love you too.”

‘look, i called her by her first name - i’m so romantic.’ that was probably the nicest thing he’s thought to himself all day

with that, you both try to get some rest

aaaannnndddddd cue the part when he wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering slightly as he looks over to you with wide eyes to reassure himself that your not gone

his heavy breathing alerts you that he is awake so you pry one eye open to look at him, “not again, tobio.” you said wearily, forcing yourself to sit up and attempt to wrap him in a hug but he just jerked away from your touch

you sighed, “what happened?”

kageyama blinked rapidly, darting his gaze around the room before it finally landed back on you

“i- the walls- and you were almost d-” he began coughing, resulting in you immediately reaching over to your nightstand and handing him the bottle of water you had lying there

he took a few gulps before letting out a refreshed ‘ah’, his stare glued to your lips the whole time

eventually, he was able to grumble “it was nothing.” (⊙_⊙;)

upon hearing his evidently fake answer, you shoved out your bottom lip and whined, “shut up, tobio. i was obviously something; why won’t you tell me?”

“because it was nothing.” he said without missing a beat, then he proceeded to lay down so he could fall back asleep - as if this time it’d go better for him

“Kageyama!” you barked, resulting his eyes jolting back open, “You always have nightmares at my house; I’m starting to wonder if you’re scared of me or something.”

kageyama shook his head before nonchalantly responding, “it’s the cherry blossom air freshener - maybe use vanilla or something next time.” he joked, unable to resist a smile as you playfully punched his shoulder.

you sighed, clearly not going to get an answer out of like every other time you’ve tired, so you just decided to try fall back asleep and try reclaim the little bit of sanity you had left

“(y/n).” kageyama grumbled, wanting to make it seem like he was half-asleep but he was far from it as he pulse was still going crazy as that nightmare shook his to the core. “are you going to dump me? because if you are, now would be a good time.”

he spoke, praying to every deity he could think of that you wouldn’t say yes - but if you did, now would be a good time as he could storm out and since it was dark outside, the streets would be deserted meaning that nobody would be there to witness the tears streaming down his cheeks as he sprinted through the night

you rolled your eyes, “is that what this is about?” you didn’t mean for it to come off so harsh as you actually felt a great amount of sympathy for kageyama but just unable to express it in the way you desired

“stop crying.” you hissed, making kageyama quirk an eyebrow.

“I’m not crying-” he replied until suddenly, he realised that your comment was directed at yourself as you hastily buried your head into his chest and he felt something soak through the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m not going to break up with you kageyama, you stupid moron idiot!” you snapped against his shirt.

don’t ask why that nickname made kageyama’s heart flutter

“get those crazy ideas out of your head or i’ll have to take them out for you 🔪--” you could barely even finish your sentence before both you and kageyama burst out laughing

it was probably just the ambience of being cozy under a blanket with each other in a freezing cold room that reeked of cherry blossom but some how you both some how fell even harder for one another

although what you said wasn’t the most moving or motivating, your intention was clear and from then on, kageyama was a lot more upfront with you💕

he’d tell you if he ever felt uncomfortable or if he was ever worried and you’d either make him feel better or make him laugh and then insist that he goes to talk to suga or daichi

also after that night, (and once you ditched the air freshener and started burning vanilla essence) he only had ‘sweet dreams’ whenever he stayed over at yours

(or at least that is what he said whenever you asked him. in reality, his dreams were about volleyball and tsukishima chasing him through the mall on a velociraptor but whatever, it was a step up from the nightmares anyway. 🏃‍♂️ 🦖 )

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jooheonspinky · 3 years

Text

Catching Your Attention

──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────

Characters: Jimin x Female Reader

Gente: Smut

Word count: 5.5k

Synopsis: You see Jimin in a skirt for the first time and are surprised at your body’s reaction.

Warnings: Jimin in a skirt...'nough said...

──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────

Stepping into the club, you are bombarded by the EDM beats bursting through the multiple speakers displayed around the room. Smoke from a fog machine envelopes you, twisting in undulating tendrils that whisp around you. Your hands run over the smoothness of your outfit and you wonder self-consciously if you really do look ok.

The black super short high waist paper bag shorts are cinched with a bow just off center. You glance down at the ample amount of cleavage presented by your olive green halter top. Was it too much, you fret. You hadn’t been out in so long and had wanted to feel sexy in hopes of lifting your mood, but now all you felt was self-conscious.

“There you are!”

You’re startled out of your thoughts, a yelp swallowed up by the extremely loud music as a hand draws you in for a hug. The familiar scent of perfume alerts you to who it is before you can even look.

“Jesus, Mimi!” You clutch at your chest. “You scared me.”

“Awe, poor baby,” she giggles in amusement, tugging you forward. “Come on. We’re over here.”

You allow her to guide you along, elbows locked as you make your way to a standing table near the bar. You recognize everyone. Namjoon, with his indigo hair parted down the middle and a white button up shirt open and tucked into a pair of black leather pants, offers a dimpled smile before leaning in to drop a swift kiss to your cheek in greeting. Then there is Yoongi, Mimi’s boyfriend. He holds up his hands giving small waves and smiles. You wave back with a smile of your own. Their friends Jungkook, Taehyung, Jin and Jimin stand beside them. Going down the line you give them each a quick hug. Jimin beams a smile at you, his eyes disappearing with the sincerity of the gesture. He was always so soft spoken and a bit shy. He laughed a lot, falling out of chairs quite often, something you found quite endearing. He was beautiful and handsome at the same time. Someone you hadn’t even tried talking too much to because you felt he was way out of your league.

Best keep him in the friend zone was your thinking when it came to someone as gorgeous as him. There was no way a guy who looked like he did would ever be attracted to you, therefore why waste your time on what essentially would be heartbreak in the end? It was your same mindset for the rest of the guys as well. It was better to just think of them as friends.

But tonight…

His hair was dyed a deep red tone, trimmed short and parted off center. It was gelled back, bangs swept over with a few strands falling across his forehead, the tips barely brushing the top of his left eyebrow. Your gaze skims down, past the slope of his nose and the plush of his lips, further down to take in his outfit.

He was wearing a white t-shirt with some sort of print on the front you could not clearly make out in the dimness, but the various rips in the shirt exposed flashes of his skin beneath that peeked through every time the club lights swam across his form. Your eyes widen as they move past the hem of his shirt, caught off guard by the site of his lower half.

A skirt hung from his hips.

The black and red plaid asymmetrical skirt fell a few inches above his knees. The lack of luminosity only accentuated the rock hard muscles that were housed beneath the exposed tanned skin of his thighs. He wore it well, your heart rate quickening at the sight of it all. You try to swallow past the dryness that suddenly plagued your mouth. When your eyes finally reach his boot-covered feet, they bounce back up, suddenly realizing you had literally been gawking at him for a bit too long. It’s not that you had never seen a guy in a skirt before. It’s just that you had never seen him in a skirt and, lord have mercy on your soul, but it was the most erotic thing you had ever seen!

Your gazes meet, and you are grateful for the near darkness, as the knowing smirk on his face has your cheeks flushing in a fit of rouge.

“Hello, Y/N,” he drawls, a slight pout to his lips.

His silvery voice pulls a shiver from you, goosebumps spreading across your arms. You were surprised at the reaction your body and mind were having all because he was fitted out in a skirt. The assertiveness in his features, something you didn’t usually see on him, also added to the allurness. Within moments you felt the walls you had set in place begin to crack and crumble.

“I need a drink,” you think to yourself, as you wipe your clammy hands up and down the sides of your shorts.

“I have one for you,” Mimi pipes up from beside you.

You turn to her, mortified, “Shit, did I say that out loud?” She only replies with a laugh as she leans over the table to grab at a cup. Returning your attention to the person who had you all sorts of frazzled, you offer an apologetic smile. “Hey, Jimin.”

Your best friend places some sort of fruity drink in your hand and then pulls you towards the center of the room. You give Jimin a quick wave of your fingers as you allow Mimi to drag you along.

“Let’s go see Hoseok,” she tosses over her shoulder with a wink.

Pushing the image of Jimin from your mind, you take a long drag of the alcohol laced beverage and feel yourself slowly relax as the two of you locate Hoseok on the dance floor dancing with someone who looked vaguely familiar. He nods your way when he catches sight of you, but does not break away from the young woman he was dancing with. You didn’t blame him though. She was beautiful and was leaving nothing to the imagination as to what she wanted from him as they moved to the music.

You dance with Mimi, the strong alcohol in your drink already starting to make you feel warm. After a few songs pass, you realize your cup is empty and toss it in a nearby trash can. By now, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jin have converged on the dancefloor. Yoongi and Mimi have drifted off to dance together and you take that opportunity to get another drink. Before you can take two steps, you find yourself sandwiched between Namjoon and Jungkook.

“Wanna dance with us?” Namjoon asks.

You look from one to the other and nod. Namjoon’s tall lean body presses against you from behind. His hands searching where to respectfully rest on you makes you smile at his sweet gentlemanly nature. They come to land loosely on your hips. Jungkook wedges himself between your thighs and you let one of your own hands perch on his shoulder. Your need for a drink is now forgotten. You smile, enjoying the attention, feeling yourself relax even more as another two songs pass.

“My turn,” a baritone voice interjects.

You look up to see Taehyung’s boxy smile. Namjoon had already been pulled away to dance by someone else. Jungkook looks at you with an arch of his eyebrow and you shrug.

“Up to you,” you grin, reveling in the attention.

“Need a drink anyway,” he smiles and leaves you with Tae.

“I’m glad you finally came out tonight,” Taehyung says into your ear as he draws in close to you.

“Yeah. Me, too,” you laugh as the two of you begin to dance.

And you find that you are. You smile over at Mimi, grateful that she had finally convinced you to go out. Work had become a bit overwhelming the last month, leaving you mentally exhausted. When the weekend rolled around all you wanted to do was sleep. Mimi kept insisting that a night out would be just what you needed to relieve some of the pent up stress. Now that you were here dancing with friends and with no expectations for how the night would end, you could feel the pressures from work ebbing away.

As your eyes move away from your friend, they lock on Jimin as if he were a magnet you were inadvertently attracted to. He must have come over with Tae. He was moving his hips to the beat, the skirt shifting across his strong thighs with every movement he made. It was as if the garment was enchanted. You were fascinated by the way it slid higher up his flesh or back down, a teasing dance you were finding you could not turn away from.

“You good?” Taehyung’s voice seems to break the spell Jimin was casting over you. “You look thirsty.”

Were you ever!

“I need another drink,” you admit sheepishly, embarrassed to have been caught ogling Jimin.

“I’ll get it,” he hollers with a conspiratorial wink, but you shake your head and make your way out of the cluster of sweaty bodies.

Away from Jimin’s beguiling form.

Reaching the bar, you order the same drink you’d had before. Feeling someone shimmy into the space beside you, you look over to hear them order a beer and two shots of Soju. Jimin grins at you and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach at the simple gesture.

“Hey, want to take a shot with me?” he shouts over the music.

“Yeah, sure,” you affirm with a nervous laugh.

The bartender slides your drink over along with the shots and beer. You go to pay, but Jimin stops you.

“I got it. Don’t worry,” he says with a wink and pays for the drinks. Handing a shot over to you, he taps his against yours, saying, “Bottoms up!”

You feel yourself clench around nothing as the words stir up a very inappropriate image of him commanding the same thing in a bedroom setting.

“Fuck,” you whisper, trying to gather your wits and wayward libido.

What the hell was wrong with you?

“You ok?” Jimin asks, bringing himself closer to you.

Too close.

“What? Oh, y-yes,” you stammer with an anxious giggle. The scent of his cologne mixed with his essence wafts your way, and you resist the urge to inhale deeply of it. “I’m just peachy. Down the hatch it goes.”

You drink down the shot, the smooth heat of the fruity soju warming a path down your throat. It was peach flavored. Of course. Feeling yourself begin to overheat, you snatch up your drink, the icy concoction helping only slightly to cool you down some.

“You’ve danced with just about everyone, but me,” Jimin points out, pulling you from your thoughts.

You stare back at him from over your cup, unsure of what to say. Had he been watching you out there all this time?

Swallowing, you nod, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Can I have the next one, then?”

Oh God, your brain shrieks.

“Definitely,” you hear yourself answer, the reply automatic. Too late to take that back, you know he’s heard you. You drink deeply from your cup and Jimin raises an amused eyebrow at you. Trying to play it off, you nonchalantly say, “Uh, didn’t want to hold anything once we are out there.”

“Good idea.”

With that, the two of you swiftly drink your beverages. Leaving the cups on the counter of the bar, he takes your hand in his and escorts you through the crowd of people. Your legs feel a bit like jelly and you’re unsure if it’s from downing your drink a bit too quickly or from Jimin’s hand being in yours. Rejoining the group, he gives you a twirl, draping your arm over his neck when you face him. You can’t help but smile, the gesture shy as he pulls you close, both hands at your waist.

You can feel the thick muscles of his thigh between your legs and you can’t seem to focus much. His body is like fluid as he sways and rolls his hips into you. You’re grateful for the loud music as a content sigh escapes your lips.

If dancing with him feels like this…

You don’t let yourself finish the thought. That would be for later…when you were in your room alone. You would allow the memories of tonight to come to the forefront. Allow your hands to help you find release from the coil that was growing tighter and tighter with every movement of his body against yours.

But not here. Here you would push the titillating feelings away. You would think of...of moldy cheese and rotten meat. Of anything that would keep your mind from straying to sensual thoughts of you with Jimin. Of thoughts that your alcohol stained mind would try to fulfill like dragging the man out of the club and straight to your home to ravish as you saw fit.

And it worked. The thoughts of nasty things replaced your thoughts of Jimin’s body, and soon you felt comfortable in his arms as song after song played. You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Mimi pulled up beside you, letting you know that the club would soon close and everyone wanted to beat the rush of patrons leaving.

You didn’t want the night to end. Sure you may have pushed any inappropriate thoughts of Jimin out of your mind, but that didn’t mean you wanted to leave the warmth his closeness gave. The rest of the group had all begun to make their way to the exit. You and Jimin follow, the palm of his hand gentle and so casually pressing against your lower back as he leads you outside.

It is almost three in the morning. The night was rather balmy even with the sun having long since set. The tepid soft breeze brought no relief from the warmth that engulfed you all.

“Should we go get some brekky?” Jungkook’s eyes light up at the thought of food.

Yoongi hugs Mimi from behind, his chin resting comfortably on her shoulder as he says, “We’re gonna pass.”

Mimi’s small smile makes Jungkook scowl.

Scrunching his nose, he turns to the rest of the group. “Anyone want to go with us?”

Hoseok has an arm around the shoulders of the young woman he’d been dancing with earlier. He looks over at her and she nods.

“We’ll go,” he pipes up, pulling a grin from Jungkook.

“Me, too,” Taehyung raises a hand.

“Alright,” Jungkook beams. “That fills my car.”

Namjoon yawns, stretching as he says, “I’m exhausted. I just want to go home and pass out in my bed.”

“Same,” Jin pouts. “But in my bed.”

“I’ll take you big babies home,” Jimin laughs.

To you, Mimi asks, “Want us to drop you off?”

You had taken an Uber to the club and was ok with getting one to go home, but before you can say a thing, Jimin intercedes.

“I can take you.”

Well...shit.

“Uhm,” you look between Jimin and Mimi. Mimi gives you a subtle tilt of her chin. Keeping your face neutral, you say, “You two can go ahead and go. I’ll go with Jimin.”

“It’s settled then,” Yoongi straightens. “Remember to text the group chat once everyone’s home safe.”

“Alright, gramps,” Jungkook teases, earning a scowl and playful punch from Yoongi.

Your group laughing, you start walking to the parking garage.

──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────

“Can I walk you to your door?” Jimin asks, putting the car in park.

He had long since dropped off Namjoon and then Jin, leaving you alone with him. He made small talk with you as he played slow R&B quietly in the background. He did his best to make you feel comfortable even as you fidgeted with your fingers during the ride.

You feel light headed with the implication of what him walking you to your door could possibly, maybe lead to and find you have to clear your throat a little to reply.

“Yes. If you want to.”

With a nod he turns off the engine and you both exit the vehicle. Stepping up beside you, he follows you to your door. The scent of him is intoxicating, your mind abuzz at his proximity to you.

Stopping at your apartment door, you turn to thank him and find yourself bumping into his chest instead. Reflexively his hands shoot out to grab your upper arms before you can stumble back.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say shakily.

For a split second, you merely stare at each other. A culmination of the alcohol as well as the sexual tension that had been building and building the entire night threatens to spill forth and it’s as if this sudden contact of skin on skin is the last bit needed to push it over. His eyes darken and you can feel your pulse thumping in your throat as he licks his lips and brings them down slowly towards your mouth, giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.

But you didn’t want to stop him.

His lips meet yours and they are velvety smooth as they brush against yours. The kiss is slow, as if he was still trying to make sure you were ok with what was happening. You lean into him, wanting to feel more of him on you. His hands come to rest at your hips, squeezing at the flesh there, holding you in place.

You pull your lips from his, whispering in his ear, “Want to take this inside?”

Who were you, soliciting him like this?

You are too caught up with the sensations he was making you feel to really care about how desperate for him you sounded. He gives you a nod. Punching the door code in, you pull it open and usher him in. Flicking a switch on, the small hallway lights up. You take off your shoes and Jimin does the same. The light illuminates the path as you make your way deeper into the apartment.

“Want anything to drink?” you ask as you near the kitchen.

“No,” he shakes his head as he strolls up to you, his hands returning to your hips.

From behind you, he grinds his pelvis into your ass and you can’t help but gasp. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin there. Bringing your hands down to cover his, you roll your hips back into him, feeling his member already growing hard beneath his skirt.

Fuck, it had been a long time, too long, since you’d been with anyone. You could feel yourself losing control wanting to throw him down on your bed to fuck him then and there, forgetting any of the foreplay. Turning in his arms, you tug him towards you, walking backwards in the direction of your bedroom. He laughs at your enthusiasm and the sound activates the butterflies in your belly.

Flicking on your sea salt lamp, an amber glow fills your room and you suddenly come to your senses. You were about to have sex. You were about to have sex with someone you never even entertained the idea that you would ever have sex with. How did you all get here anyway?

Right. The skirt.

“What?” Jimin asks, his smile a little uncertain. You shake your head, trying to clear it. “We can stop if you want.”

Stop? No. Heavens no. You were not going to stop this. You shake your head even as you think it, but he looks unconvinced. You bring his head down for a kiss, hoping to push away any of his doubts.

“I’m ok,” you whisper.

“Ok,” he smiles, caressing your cheek.

Taking that moment, you pull back to take off your top. Dropping it to the ground, you untie your shorts, Jimin’s hungry eyes watching your hips as you wiggle out of the shorts. Straightening, you find Jimin has taken off his shirt, leaving a very toned torso out on display for your eyes to devour. Eyes widening, you try and think back if you had ever heard him mention having gotten a tattoo. On the side of his ribs in thick black capital letters is the word “NEVERMIND”. It looks so good against the tone of his skin and it’s enough to momentarily distract you.

“Wait,” you put a hand up as Jimin makes to unzip his skirt. Tearing your eyes from the tattoo, you meet his gaze. He cocks a questioning brow at you.

Pink blooming in your cheeks, you hesitantly stammer, “D-don’t take it off.”

A surprised, yet pleased smile spreads across his alluring lips.

“You want me to leave this on?” You nod, swallowing thickly. He chuckles, “I would have never pegged you for a guy in skirts kink.”

“Me neither,” you whisper, unconsciously licking your lips.

He is a sight to see with his toned arms and smooth chest. He shimmies out of his underwear, leaving them on the floor. His six pack ripples beneath his skin with every movement he makes as he draws closer to you. The legs that are visible beneath the piece of clothing speak of strength, agility, and the entirety of his form is almost too much for you to look at for too long. He was just THAT beautiful…handsome from head to toe.

Your pulse is a thunderous cacophony in your ears, your tongue like cotton in your mouth at the mere thought of the desire this man had sparked in you just with kisses. What more could he elicit from you with what was hidden beneath the plaid material that hung so casually from his tight waist?

His hands are warm against your bare skin as he slides into your embrace. The skirt brushes against your thighs causing goosebumps to sprinkle across your flesh. You can’t help but shiver, your skin buzzing with anticipation. Your fingers are itching to slip beneath that skirt, to trace over every inch of him.

Never had you imagined you would be turned on by a piece of clothing. It was exciting, though you were still quite shocked by it, if you were being honest.

His mouth fervently moves against yours as he walks you back towards your bed dragging you out of your thoughts. You giggle when the back of your legs hit the mattress. You make your way to the center of the bed and Jimin wastes no time to crawl towards you. Your breath hitches as the skirt clings to the slope of his ass. His palm glides up the inside of your leg and your body stiffens the closer he draws to your center.

Your panties were already sticky with want.

Your eyes tear away from his backside to his face just in time to see him smirk and lick his lips as his fingers graze over your wet spot. You feel your face grow warm again.

“You’re cute when you do that,” he chuckles as he tugs at your underwear.

You lift your hips to help him as you whisper a breathless, “What?”

The garment disappears behind him and he settles between your legs.

“It’s cute when you blush,” he murmurs before dragging his tongue up your slit.

“Oh, shit,” you curse, as your hands fist the sheets.

You fight the urge to close your eyes, wanting to watch his every move. Hiked up on your elbows you stare down as his hands grasp onto your inner thighs, opening your legs wider and giving him full access to you. Inhaling sharply, your hips jut forward when his mouth connects with your nether lips. At first he sucks slowly on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You bite down on your lip as you watch him hungrily. He begins to alternate between tugging gently at your clit with his lips then twirling his tongue around it. You could no longer keep quiet, the sensations were deliciously licking up your body and spilling out in moans from your lips.

You feel his finger circle languidly around your entrance. You try to arch your hips up, to help guide his finger inside you, but his free hand is still holding you down firmly, preventing you from moving much. You whine in protest.

“What’s the matter,” he grins up at you, giving you a moment to catch your breath. “You want this?”

You feel his finger slowly make its way inside you and you let out a long sigh of relief. It felt good, but not enough.

“M-more, please,” you beg.

Jimin obliges, introducing a second digit. Your entrance begins to stretch to accommodate the additional finger and it feels so good. Even though he is taking a leisurely pace in and out of you, you can feel your body tightening as the sensations build. Jimin returns his mouth to your clit, sucking, licking, and flicking his tongue on the sensitive area, all the while his fingers continue to draw in and out of you. It’s too much all at once and you drop down onto your back, eyes closing and hips undulating of their own accord. At this rate, he would have you shattering into a million pieces in just a few more moments, and you didn’t want that. Not yet, anyway. When you reached your high, you wanted it to be with him inside you.

“Stop! Stop!” you pant, tugging yourself from his hold.

Startled, Jimin looks up at you, wide eyed.

“Are you ok?” his eyes skim over you even as he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

Chest heaving, you open your mouth to speak and are momentarily stupified by how deliciously hot he looks with his lips parted and glistening with your juices, his face slightly flushed and his pupils blown out. He had been enjoying what he had been doing to you and for the briefest of moments you are tempted to let him continue.

Shaking your head, you assure him with a smile, “I’m fine. I’m more than fine, actually.” You swipe a shaky hand across your forehead. “I just....,” glancing away, you cringe at the desperation you feel. “I just need to feel you inside me.”

You hear him chuckle, the sound filled with relief. Hovering over your body, Jimin kisses his way up your abdomen. His hand coasts up your ribs, stopping to massage one of your still covered breasts. He slowly brings down the shoulder strap of your bra, his fingers ghosting over your flesh. Goosebumps spread across your arms and you shiver. Exposing one of your mounds, he covers the pebbled nipple with his lips and sucks gently. Your core contracts as you remember his lips doing the same between your legs just minutes before.

You wanted him so badly.

Letting your hands slip into his hair, you scrape your nails along his scalp. He hums deep in his throat and the sound is beautiful to your ears. You want to hear more.

“Jimin, please,” you implore.

Releasing your nipple, he resumes a trail of kisses up your chest and neck, until he reaches your mouth. The way his lips move against yours is positively sinful. Your back arches, molding yourself to him.

“What do you want?” he purrs into your mouth and you groan.

Rather than reply, you let your hand glide down his side and in between your bodies. He shifts his hips up a bit and you maneuver your way under his skirt until you find his hard cock beneath. Wrapping your fingers around the shaft, Jimin hisses into your mouth. You can’t help but bite at his bottom lip as you bring the tip of him to your swollen clit. The satin-like surface glides smoothly over the slick nub and you are both moaning and sighing quietly into each other.

You had never imagined Jimin kissing you, much less a scenario where you and Jimin would actually fuck. But here you are, and he felt amazing.

No longer able to take the torture, you guide him down to your opening. You groan as he stretches you so sweetly. Even with his previous ministrations, he is still a snug fit. You can feel Jimin trembling as he fights to control his hips as he slowly draws deeper into you until he bottoms out. His head falls back, eyes closed and lips slightly parted and you think to yourself that this is probably one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen in your life.

Jimin’s lips recapture yours as he begins to move languidly, his hips rolling into you and making you writhe beneath him. He feels so good inside you. You can feel the bunched up skirt pressing against your lower belly with every undulation and an idea crosses through your lust filled mind.

Breaking from the kiss, you whisper, “Let me ride you.”

“Fuck,” Jimin groans and you feel his dick kick inside you as his hips stutter to a stop.

In one swift movement, he flips you both over and you can’t help but giggle at his eagerness. Splayed across his chest, you give him a quick peck on the lips before sitting up. Reaching behind you, you grasp onto his very stiff cock, slick with both of your juices, and stroke him a few times before you raise yourself up and scoot back. Jimin’s hands come to rest at your hips, helping you stay up as you align him with your entrance.

Eyes heavy-lidded, he watches you slowly descend around his cock. Your chest thrust forward as your back arches and it’s then that you realize you still have your bra on. Your hips leisurely rock against him as you maneuver the release of your bra. Your breasts are finally bared to Jimin and his hands instantly reach up to palm them. He squeezes and pinches at your nipples as you roll your hips into him.

The room fills with your moans and his soft pants and intermittent words of praise.

“You feel amazing,” he sighs. “You ride me so good.”

The way the words just spill from his throat as he bites his lips, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure you are bringing him, has your walls clamping tightly around him. You can feel the warmth tightening in your lower belly. Looking for that release, you scrunch his skirt into your fist and begin to move faster, using the material as leverage. Jimin’s own hips begin to buck up into you. His hands come down to dig into your waist to help lift you and bring you slamming down onto his cock over and over again.

“Oh God!” you hear yourself say from far away as you feel the tip of him hit you in the right spot.

Your pulse is beating way too fast, a roaring rush in your ears blocking everything else out as you try to keep up with his rapid pace. You are so close to falling over the edge. You tighten your grip on the skirt, bringing you down harder and feel yourself burst with your release.

“Fuck! Jimin, fuck!” you say over and over as your walls contract and shudder with the force of your climax.

Your body feels like lead and you are so thankful when shortly after you feel Jimin’s hips nearly lock in place as he reaches his own release. He shoots hot streaks of cum inside you, his dick throbbing and pulsing as he spills into you with a loud moan.

Exhausted, you collapse onto the bed beside him. His hand reaches over to stroke your back almost as if he’s reluctant to lose the skin to skin connection.

“That was so good,” he smiles, looking every bit as drained as you felt.

Laughing, you say, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

He protests, but when you get up, he follows you to the bathroom and you both wash up.

“So, can I take this off now?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

You have the nerve to blush and give him a shy nod. He takes off the skirt before you two return to the bed. You snuggle into his chest and sigh blissfully when his arms encircle you.

“This is nice,” you murmur half asleep.

“It is.” He kisses the top of your head. “Remind me why we’ve never done this before?”

You shrug, “I didn’t think you thought of me as anything other than a friend.”

“Really?” Jimin asks, as he pulls back to look at your face. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, but you never seemed interested, so…”

Your mouth falls open in surprise. “Seriously?”

“If I would have known wearing a skirt was going to get your attention, I would have worn one a long time ago,” he smirks.

“Jimin!” you blush.

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Moodboard made by me.

Quote is lyrics from Filter by Jimin

Image credits:

Woman

Bedroom

Jimin Skirt

Jimin Face

Jimin Hands

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