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raineeskiesabove · 3 years

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His Truth | Albedo x Sucrose HC & Oneshot (ish)

Using the hc that Albedo is a homunculus, but the nature of this creature ranges across works of fiction I’ve seen, so the rest is based on my own interpretations;;

These two may be brainy in their respective fields of study, but romance is an entirely new ballpark for both of them

They’re both complete dorks when it comes to “wooing” a special someone, and are too shy to admit their feelings. At least for Sucrose, anyway. Albedo’s feelings are a bit more complicated, as he questions whether or not his feelings are even real.

Albedo isn’t human. His feelings aren’t human. It wouldn’t be fair to let Sucrose grow so close to him. It would only be a matter of time before he would lose control, losing whatever “self” he had managed to develop over the years.

At first, Albedo treated Sucrose like everyone else- slightly distant, but with respect. However, over time, he grew fonder of the other alchemist, of her devotion to alchemy and her sweet personality. Over and over, he’d insist that she could drop the “Mister”, but she never seemed to listen. It was this pressure, of Sucrose respecting him so much, that made him all the more convinced that she shouldn’t grow close to him. The real him wasn’t who she thought he was.

“Sucrose, this is a busy time of research for the both of us. Please keep all conversations short and to the point,” he would begin to say, using a purposefully cold and icy tone.

“Y-yes of course, Mister Albedo!” Sucrose would always comply with his wishes, even if his words stung a little. But she had the tendency to ramble, and simply figured that perhaps he had grown tired of her constant questions, observations, and other such things.

For a while, Sucrose accepted Albedo’s new terms, only asking for his attention when she knew he had a job for her. No more questions about his work. No more asking for guidance. Perhaps, she thought, he was testing how well she could research on her own! She knew she was lying to herself, but Sucrose would do anything to reassure herself that Albedo didn’t truly dislike her.

One day, Sucrose left town alone to collect some samples out in the fields of Monstadt. She hadn’t told anyone where she had gone.

By this point, Albedo was mentally tearing himself apart from the inside out, realizing that he could not bear the burden to live like this. He knew that this hurt her. He could see it every time they passed in the hallway- instead of offering a shy wave, she simply looked away and continued walking. She never visited him in his lab anymore. She never asked questions, told him about the subjects she was most fond of.

But what was more concerning were the changes his body undergone since he had shut Sucrose out. At first it was barely noticeable: a hairline fracture, what seemingly appeared to be a crack, running down from the bottom point of the star on his neck. The crack led to nowhere, and didn’t chip upon his inspection, so he was forced to leave it be. As the days passed, more and more cracks began to appear, now stemming from all sides of the star marking. Soon, the cracks caused the outer layer of his skin to chip off, revealing an unnatural, gold interior beneath. These areas were extremely sensitive, like the star on his neck, making work very difficult to accomplish.

Albedo fell into a state of depression, now without care for whatever happened around him. He could barely sleep at night from how intense the markings felt, but resisted the urge to show anyone. Unlike himself, who eagerly devoured stories of the unknown, the other seeing him would frighten them.

He spent the following days mindlessly doodling Sucrose over and over again. He’d drawn her before, already memorizing each detail down to the strands of hair on her head. Thoughts of her ran through his mind almost obsessively, and he simply couldn’t understand why. He cannot love. It isn’t real. He is hardly real. He needed to let go of her, but any attempt to detach himself proved fruitless.

Only one event, after almost half of his skin had decayed, roused him from bed. A knock at his door.

“Albedo?” It was Jean. “Have you seen Sucrose? No one has seen her since yesterday, and we checked her lab. She isn’t anywhere in town, and I’m getting worried...”

Sucrose? But she never left the city unless it was to accompany him- oh.

He was such a fool.

Pulling up his hood, leaving his hair down, Albedo opened the door swiftly, saying nothing as he passed Jean in a hurry.

The only lead he had to go off of was her elemental traces, which were already fading due to it being a day since her disappearance. Not to mention that he had to move slowly, due to how sensitive every movement felt.

Half a day passed, and Albedo began to fear the worst when the trail led to the Thousand Winds Temple. So many, too many monsters dwelled within this area. It was much too dangerous for one to go alone, especially for Sucrose, who lacked a particularly reactionary element. And by now, a steady stream of rain had begun to fall around him.

Finally, he found her laying lifeless against the cold concrete, surrounded by a Ruin Guard that had seemingly lost interest in her.

If one emotion he never felt was love, the other was anger. Pure, white rage that blinded every other thought telling him to be rational. These feelings were simply overwhelming, his heart feeling like it would burst at any moment.

Defeating the Ruin Guard in a monstrous explosion of geo energy, he rushed to Sucrose’s side quickly, checking for a pulse.

Weak, but alive. Severely injured, but still breathing.

“Sucrose... Sucrose, can you hear me?” Even in a situation as dire as this, Albedo felt his voice come out calmly and even.

At first she thought that she was dreaming. She had convinced herself that she would die out here, that no one would come looking for her. Especially not the one sitting above her now. Her glasses had long been lost, but instantly she knew who it was. Even the act of breathing hurt, but the relief of seeing his face caused a smile to bloom on her lips, a laugh to escape her throat.

“Y-you came,” she whispered.

“Yes,” was all he could say before the tears escaped him, running down his face relentlessly, falling onto the girl below. His sobs were strangled and raw, echoing throughout the plaza they were in. A stream of “sorries” and “forgive mes” were mixed throughout his cries, Albedo’s chest heaving from the sudden burst of emotion. Never in his life had he cried. Never had he experienced the true feelings of sorrow and regret.

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, perplexed by the gold plating of it, but more concerned with the distress he was in. Never had she seen her cool and collected teacher so vulnerable.

To both of their surprises, her touch did not cause him to recoil, nor did it sting him. But rather, as she held her hand in place, the gold began to fade, again growing encased within his usual skin color.

He held her hand against his cheek tightly, now desperately holding onto it. He had almost lost her, but he wasn’t going to make the same mistake a second time. In terms of his condition, he didn’t understand why he had begun to decay, nor did he understand why she could repair it. But she simply could, and that was enough for him to accept that he needed her.

She insisted to now sit up, which he initially declined to endorse, but her insistence was enough to make him back down in his vulnerable state. Sitting in silence, she broke it with a nervous giggle, noting how both of them weren’t having a very good day.

Through his tears, Albedo couldn’t help but let a chuckle escape him, his forehead falling against hers. The movement caused Sucrose to freeze, shocked by his sudden and uncharacteristically bold move. In her trance, she barely noticed that he had guided her hand to the star on his neck, her touch causing a faint glow to emanate from the marking. Through his clothes, the two could see the rest of his gold spots lit up, the glow fading as her touch closed the openings.

“Mi- ah... A-Albedo, I don’t understand. Are you alright? The unusual markings on the surface of your body looked uncomfortable. Why... why was my touch so effective in counteracting them?”

“That is... beyond the realm of my understanding, Sucrose. But, I seek the truth of this world, do I not?”

She nodded, but secretly wondered what that had to do with her question.

“A long time ago, my master gave me one final task: discover the truth of this world. Days grew into months, months into years, and I never found an answer that I could accept. I grew worried that I would never be able to unravel the mystery presented by my master. Logically, this is likely an incorrect answer, but the truth of this world, my truth of this world... For now, I would like to define it as the love that I hold for you. It is... a bit of a foolish answer, isn’t it?”

“...no. No, not at all,” she whispered, closing her golden eyes. A small smile graced her lips, a gentle breath escaping her nose as her shoulders relaxed.

Perhaps it was only seconds, maybe hours, that they stayed rooted in this spot. But there was still one thing they both knew for certain, regardless of the passage of time around them. In the middle of this damp, abandoned site lost to time, Albedo and Sucrose shared their first kiss.

Eww the formatting HAHA;; Ma’am it is 130am wtf am I doing. I am so sorry if the writing and concepts make no sense lmao I fell down this rabbit hole and it became a pseudo oneshot that probably needs a lot of editing I’m too lazy to do rn. Til next time homies <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact albedo #genshin albedo #albedo #genshin impact sucrose #genshin sucrose #sucrose x albedo #sucrose #alberose #genshin alberose #albedo x sucrose #genshin impact oneshot #kreideprinz

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butterflies-dragons · 4 years

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Hey! I want to ask your opinion on Jon ygritte relationship and it's contrast with jonsa. I've seen jongritte wrt to jonerys but I want to know your opinions on jongritte wrt to jonsa as a foil n parallel.

Hello Anon,

Let’s talk about Ygritte then...

Ygritte:

Ygritte was a mixture of the Stark Sisters.

According to Jon: “she can kiss a man (Sansa’s romantic nature) or slit his throat (Arya’s killer abilities)”

“And maybe her eyes [...] but they were a pretty blue-grey color”. Blue (Sansa) & Grey (Arya).

Ygritte has skinny legs, was short for her age, and never brushed her hair, similar to Arya. But Ygritte was a redhead, described like ‘kissed by fire’, similar to the Tully auburn of Sansa’s hair that is also described by Arya like ‘fire’: “Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair.”

According to Jon, Ygritte is fierce, stubborn, and wild, similar to Arya with her touch of the wolf blood. But Ygritte also can sing like Sansa.

Ygritte is a spearwife, a fierce killer, a warrior woman, which reminds us of Arya’s Needle, her training to be a faceless man, and the list of people she wants to kill. But Ygritte also likes songs and stories and cries with sad and beautiful songs, like Sansa.

Who else was a mixture of the Stark Sisters? Lyanna Stark, Jon’s mother. But this is another subject.

Jon was not instantly attracted to Ygritte, but with time he started to have feeling for her, feelings that are linked with Ygritte’s similarities with Sansa:

The wildlings seemed to think Ygritte a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the free folk, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire, which was supposed to be lucky. Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte's hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons.

At a lord's court the girl would never have been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round peasant face, a pug nose, and slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart. Jon had noticed all that the first time he'd seen her, when his dirk had been at her throat. Lately, though, he was noticing some other things. When she grinned, the crooked teeth didn't seem to matter. And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, and lively as any eyes he knew. Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon II

Ygritte’s singing and the shades of her red hair near the flames. Jon is such a romantic.

Ygritte’s hair “by the cookfire [...] with the flames waking echoes in her red hair”, reminds me of this passage about Sansa’s hair:

“She had auburn hair, […] the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.”

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

And guess what turns Jon off about Ygritte? That she is a cold blood killer:

"I see no free folk. I see a crow and a crow wife."

"I'm no crow wife!" Ygritte snatched her knife from its sheath. Three quick strides, and she yanked the old man's head back by the hair and opened his throat from ear to ear. Even in death, the man did not cry out. "You know nothing, Jon Snow!" she shouted at him, and flung the bloody blade at his feet.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

"Who is Ygritte?" Donal Noye asked pointedly.

"A woman of the free folk." How could he explain Ygritte to them? [. . .] she's young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she . . ." She killed an old man for building a fire.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Ygritte was much in his thoughts as well. He remembered the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body . . . and the look on her face as she slit the old man's throat.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Very telling....

I usually call Ygritte, “Jon’s Joffrey”. Both Jon and Sansa accommodated Ygritte and Joffrey in their minds as a coping mechanism, because they both knew that their love interests liked killing too much, something that turn them off:

“Who is Ygritte?” Donal Noye asked pointedly.

“A woman of the free folk.” How could he explain Ygritte to them? She’s warm and smart and funny and she can kiss a man or slit his throat. “She’s with Styr, but she’s not … she’s young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she …” She killed an old man for building a fire. His tongue felt thick and clumsy. The milk of the poppy was clouding his wits. “I broke my vows with her. I never meant to, but …” It was wrong. Wrong to love her, wrong to leave her … “I wasn’t strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I …” His head felt as if it were packed with wet wool.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VI

Look how Jon is having a discussion with himself in his mind: Jon 1: Ygritte was warm, smart, funny, young, only a girl.... Jon 2: But she was a cold blood killer, man! She shot several arrows at us, she tried to kill us! And remember when she blackmailed us to have sex with her? WTF dude?

This is exactly what Sansa was doing here:

“I had a dream that Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart,” she said. It had been more of a wish, actually, but it sounded better to call it a dream. Everyone knew that dreams were prophetic. White harts were supposed to be very rare and magical, and in her heart she knew her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.

“A dream? Truly? Did Prince Joffrey just go up to it and touch it with his bare hand and do it no harm?”

“No,” Sansa said. “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm, but she knew Joffrey liked hunting, especially the killing part. Only animals, though. Sansa was certain her prince had no part in murdering Jory and those other poor men; that had been his wicked uncle, the Kingslayer. She knew her father was still angry about that, but it wasn’t fair to blame Joff. That would be like blaming her for something that Arya had done.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

After a time living in Kings Landing and knowing her betrothed a bit better, Sansa knew that Joffrey was not true knight material; deep down she knew about his killing/harming tendencies, yet she tried to accommodate Joff as someone that, at least, would never harm/kill innocent people.

As I said before, Jon started having feelings for Ygritte, but she couldn’t wait to have him. She blackmailed him to have sex, and Jon being the horny teenager that he was, at the prospect to be killed by the wildling versus having sex with a girl that he started to like, he chose the sex, of course. Such a strong basis for romance...

Women & Jon Snow:

How many times have we all heard that Jon loves warrior women and dislikes or even hates ladies? This is not true tho...

These wrong assumptions are based in Jon’s interactions with the following women:

Ygritte, a spearwife, a warrior woman, his first and only lover.

Arya, his favorite and beloved sister, Jon himself gave her a sword, Needle. Needle was named because of Sansa tho... Ygritte reminded Jon of Arya.

Val, “the wildling princess”. Jon considers Val very physically attractive, he decided that she was a “warrior princess”. But sorry, let me tell you that GRRM himself has said that Val is not a warrior woman.

Lady Alys Karstark, because she reminds Jon of Arya and she flirted with him. She remembered them dancing in the past and invited him to dance again during her wedding. Dancing is something very ladylike tho, just saying...

Arya

Back in 2016, a person asked GRRM about the possibility of a romance between Jon and Arya, pointing out the similarities between Ygritte and Arya, this is what he said:

“My con friend asked about the Jon/Arya relationship again and brought her (impressive) Game book that had all of her references marked out with little flags. She brought up the Ygritte connections to Arya that Jon saw in her. George did not directly answer yes or no if there would be anything romantic between the two.”

“George did say, despite what readers see as clues to a romantic relationship between Jon/Arya in the books themselves, he did not confirm this so easily but inferred that what Jon saw in Ygritte was a comfort level of femininity. <<< She and I obviously discussed these comments after the meeting and this was the general feeling.”

“My con friend was referring to George explaining Jon’s perception: GRRM replied, “You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.”

[Source 1] [Source 2] [Source 3]

So, as you can see, these links between Jon’s favorite sister and Jon’s first lover, according to the author himself, mean:

“Comfort level of femininity”,

“Jon is used to messy hair”

“Not reference for romance”.

Not reference for romance indeed...

Here you can read more about my opinion regarding the possibility of a romantic relationship between Jon and Arya: [x] [x] [x]

Val

Repeat after me: Val is not a warrior woman. Again: Val is not a warrior woman. One more time: Val is not a warrior woman. If you don’t believe me, then read this:

However, in my own defense, I should note that Dalla was not a “warrior woman” per se. She was from a warrior culture, yes; one that gave women the right, but not the obligation, to be fighters. Ygritte was a warrior woman, as was (most conspicuously) the fearsome Harma Dogshead. Dalla and Val were not.

[Source]

But you may say, ¿What about the “the warrior princess and the willowy creature that only brushes her hair” quote?

Well, as GRRM has stated many times, all his POVS are “Unreliable Narrators”. Being from a “warrior culture” doesn’t make you automatically a “warrior woman”. But here is Jon Snow “deciding” that Val was a “warrior princess”. Once again, the contrast, the dichotomy in one single person: ¿A warrior like Arya, a princess like Sansa? Not that Arya has ever fought in a war, but you get my point. And Sansa was created following the princess archetype.

I will show you one of my favorite Jon’s passages that will serve us to read “the warrior princess and the willowy creature that only brushes her hair” line with a better and more revealing light:

I call this passage the “Jon -It’s nothing special- Snow”. Or as we say in Spanish when we can’t get what we really want: “Al cabo que ni quería”, that can be translated as “I didn't even want it anyway”. Let’s see:

"Oh, I learn things everywhere I go." The little man gestured up at the Wall with a gnarled black walking stick. "As I was saying … why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?" He cocked his head and looked at Jon with his curious mismatched eyes. "You do want to know what's on the other side, don't you?"

"It's nothing special," Jon said. He wanted to ride with Benjen Stark on his rangings, deep into the mysteries of the haunted forest, wanted to fight Mance Rayder's wildlings and ward the realm against the Others, but it was better not to speak of the things you wanted. "The rangers say it's just woods and mountains and frozen lakes, with lots of snow and ice."

—A Game of Thrones - Jon III

I mean... COME ON! This is one of the most telling passages to know, to really know Jon’s true nature, and it’s very, very similar to the quote about “the warrior princess and the willowy creature that only brushes her hair”:

They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

“Some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.” Nah, it’s nothing special, I didn’t even want it anyway, not for me, no.

Do I have to say more???

Actually, yes, I have.

Jon Snow does really want a lady. Jon Snow does really want to be a knight and rescue a maiden. Jon Snow does really want a lady to love and be loved back by her. Here some evidence:

Jon Snow wished that his mother were a highborn lady: “Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.”

Jon Snow wanted to be a hero like the Prince Aemon Dragonknight. The same Prince Aemon that jousted in a tourney, won it, and crowned his sister and lady love “Queen of Love and Beauty”, something that is straight out from the courtly love book: “The Dragonknight once won a tourney as the Knight of Tears, so he could name his sister the queen of love and beauty in place of the king's mistress”.

Jon Snow tried to comfort Gilly with courtesy: "Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower." "That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name. He could not help the girl, but perhaps the courtesy would please her”.

Jon Snow put Ghost between Ygritte and him and remembers that knights put their swords between their ladies and themselves, something that is straight out from the courtly love book: “After that he had taken to using Ghost to keep her away. Old Nan used to tell stories about knights and their ladies who would sleep in a single bed with a blade between them for honor's sake, but he thought this must be the first time where a direwolf took the place of the sword”.

Jon Snow imagined romancing Ygritte as if she were a lady: “If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us”.

Jon Snow wished for a domestic life in Winterfell, with his wife and children: I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. [...] I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. [...] Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb. He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily”.

Jon is a romantic that called his mare “sweet lady”.

Jon Snow closer friends in the Night’s Watch are Samwell Tarly and satin, they are literally male!Sansas.

Jon remembers fondly Sansa’s more feminine and ladylike traits: her romantic nature, her courtesies, her singing.

It’s also worth to mention that, despite Val’s beauty and physical attractiveness, Jon Snow, once again, appreciates her being maternal and singing to Gilly’s son, but was turned off by Val saying she would kill Princess Shireen:

"I have heard you singing to him."

"I was singing to myself. Am I to blame if he listens?" A faint smile brushed her lips. "It makes him laugh. Oh, very well. He is a sweet little monster."

"Monster?"

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VIII

Once outside and well away from the queen's men, Val gave vent to her wroth. "You lied about her beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs. And the daughter … her face …"

"Greyscale."

"The grey death is what we call it."

"It is not always mortal in children."

"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago."

This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child."

"I pity both of them. The child is not clean."

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

Wait a minute! Val was “singing to herself” like Jon’s memory of Sansa “singing to herself” while brushing out Lady’s coat???

Where did Jon get this idea of “some willowy creature that only brushes her hair” from??? It could be from his half sister Sansa, a literal princess, now trapped in a tower, that always brushed her hair and even brushed out her direwolf’s fur???

“She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone” —Sansa

“Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone.” —Eddard

I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. —Catelyn

He thought [...] Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. —Jon

And I also suspect that when Jon said this about Val:

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.

They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

He was remembering another pretty girl, princess like, next to a direwolf, looking as though they belong together.

A young beautiful girl, that everyone considers a princess, next to a direwolf???

Val is a beautiful young woman, Sansa is a beautiful young maiden.

Val has long blonde hair the color of dark honey which she wears in a braid. Val actually take care of her hair, enough to braid it, like Sansa that always brushes it. And if you google “dark honey” hair color you will find a variety of reddish brown (auburn) and reddish blonde hair colors.

Val has high sharp cheekbones, like Sansa.

Val’s eyes are pale grey or blue. Again the grey/blue eyes pattern...

Val is slender with a full bosom, like Sansa.

So?

Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him. [...] It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself.

Think about it!

Alys

You may have heard about how Alys Karstark reminds Jon of Arya. She was the girl of Melissandre’s vision, right? No? Melissandre was wrong? Really?Anyway, this is another subject, for another time. The thing is that Jon was really hoping that the “Grey Girl” was Arya. He was desperate to have Arya safe and away from the Boltons. And once again, look at Alys Karstark’s description:

Alys is a tall, like Sansa, but skinny, like Arya.

Alys has brown hair, like Arya, but wears it into a braid, so she cares about her hair, like Sansa.

Alys has a long face, but blue-grey eyes. Blue like Sansa, and Grey like Arya. This pattern again? George, I need some explanations. What are you doing?

And also all these connections with Sansa:

Alys is a lady, a maiden, and she asked Jon his protection: “You are my only hope, Lord Snow. In your father's name, I beg you. Protect me”. She sounds like a willowy creature in need to be rescue by some knight, right?

Alys remembered dancing with a sullen Jon Snow when she visited Winterfell in the past. Alys invited Jon Snow to dance again during her wedding.

Alys’ wedding happened in a very similar way to Sansa’s dream wedding: ”It was not supposed to be this way. She had dreamed of her wedding a thousand times, and always she had pictured how her betrothed would stand behind her tall and strong, sweep the cloak of his protection over her shoulders, and tenderly kiss her cheek as he leaned forward to fasten the clasp”. —A Storm of Swords - Sansa III & “The Magnar all but ripped the maiden’s cloak from Alys’s shoulders, but when he fastened her bride’s cloak about her he was almost tender. As he leaned down to kiss her cheek, their breath mingled”. —A Dance with Dragons - Jon X.

A northern maid and a wildling warrior, bound together by the Lord of Light. A northern maid like Sansa: “The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter”. A wildling warrior like Jon: “I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling.”

There is much more to say about Women & Jon Snow, but I will stop here. There are more topics to explore for this answer.

This is too long already, so I need to make a cut.

Parallels & Contrasts:

As I said this post is already too long, so I will summarize with the help of my friends. Let’s see:

Some great findings by my friend @shieldofrohan in this post: JON X SANSA BOOK HINTS- IN ORDER:

Sansa is the blue flower that bloomed from the North

Ygritte tells about the song of Bael the Bard and the Winterfell’s Rose in ACOK; Jon VI

In the story the blue roses of Winterfell just bloom and they represent a love between King Beyond the Wall and Winterfell’s maiden heir

Next chapter is Sansa (ACOK; Sansa IV) and she flowers for the first time, next chapter is Jon again. (Jon-Sansa-Jon)

Bael the Bard and Winterfell’s Blue Rose

He meets with Ygritte

So after the introduction of his future love interest comes a Sansa chapter.

She tells him the story of a song about the love between King Beyond the Wall and Winterfell’s maiden lady heir.

Jon-Ygritte meeting // Sandor-Sansa last scene

Jon meets with Ygritte in ACOK; Jon VI

Sansa sees Sandor for the last time in ACOK; Sansa VII

Jon has grey eyes // Sandor has grey eyes

Ygritte has red hair // Sansa has red hair

Jon // Sandor puts a knife to her throat

Ygritte tells him a song // Sansa sings for him

Jon-Ygritte last scene // Sandor-Sansa last scene

Sansa-Sandor last scene ACOK; Sansa VII // Jon-Ygritte last scene ASOS; Jon VII

Ygritte cups Jon’s cheek // Sansa cups Sandor’s cheek

Ygritte // Sandor says her/his catchphrase:

You know nothing, Jon Snow // Littlebird one last time and dies // leaves.

The men didn’t touch redhead girls but girls say they did

Jon didn’t touch Ygritte but Ygritte lies that he did and Sansa believes that Sandor kissed her in ACOK; Sansa VII. But he didn’t

Sansa remembers UNKISS after a Jon chapter.

Jon-Ygritte // Tyrion-Sansa

Jon beds Ygritte and it kind of means they are married in Wildlings’ sense. Because they believe in stealing + bedding = marriage philosphy.

Meanwhile Sansa really marries Tyrion.

Two hearts that beat as one. Mance Rayder’s mocking words rang bitter in his head. [ASOS; Jon III] The septon raised his crystal high, so the rainbow light fell down upon them. “Here in the sight of gods and men,” he said, “I do solemnly proclaim Tyrion of House Lannister and Sansa of House Stark to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them.” [ASOS; Sansa III]

Jon has sex with Ygritte because he needs to prove that he is loyal. But he feels guilty because he takes pleasure. So he stole her and bed her. They are basically married. He didn’t want to but he was forced to.

Sansa had to do it because she is surrounded by the enemy. And Tyrion believes he has to consummate the marriage because his father commanded him. He desires Sansa even though she is a child and he feels a slight shame because of it. But unlike Jon, Tyrion doesn’t bed Sansa.

Bed your sister

Ygritte asks some interesting questions… while someone was about to bed Jon’s sister. She punched him. “That’s vile. Would you bed your sister?” [ASOS; Jon III]

I didn’t steal you… I’m no thief

Ygritte says that Jon stole her like Bael the Bar and talks about the star called Thief. But Jon says he didn’t steal her.

In TWOW; Alayne I, Ser Roland also calls Sansa a thief for stealing his heart. But she says she is no thief.

Ygritte is a girl with Tully look with her red hair and blue-grey eyes whereas Ser Roland has Stark look with his brown hair and long face. Sansa even says he is horse faced, and Arya is called Horsaface too and she looks like Jon.

Ygritte // Sansa

Ygritte is a northern girl with Tully hair and she says she is a “half fish”

Sansa is a half Tully aka fish, redhead and northern… Ygritte punched his arm. “You know nothing, Jon Snow. I’m half a fish, I’ll have you know.” [ASOS; Jon V]

More from this post by my friend on reddit: Jon and Sansa's parallel journey/imagery/settings in Jon and Sansa CHAPTERS PLACED NEXT TO EACH OTHER

ACOK Chapters 51, 52 and 53 - Steal the girl Chapter 51 - Jon, Chapter 52 - Sansa and Chapter 53 - Jon

Jon meets Ygritte who bares her throat for him and Jon puts his Longsword at it, intending to kill her but frees her:

She pushed her hair aside to bare her neck, and knelt before him. “Strike hard and true, crow, or I’ll come back and haunt you.”

“Now,” he said, “before my wits return. Go.”

She went.

The Hound puts his longsword against Sansa's neck but also frees her:

He laid the edge of his longsword against her neck, just under her ear. Sansa could feel the sharpness of the steel.

Now fly away, little bird, I’m sick of you peeping at me.”

Wordless, she fled

Before this, Ygritte tells Jon the tale of Bael the bard and how he stole the "Fairest flower in Winterfell"

‘All I ask is a flower,’ Bael answered, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell.’”

Next, we have Sansa recieve her first moonblood described as having "Flowered"

You’ve had your first flowering, no more.

Chapter ends with Cersei asking Sansa if she wants to be loved and have it followed by a Jon chapter.

Do you want to be loved, Sansa?”

“Everyone wants to be loved.”

“I see flowering hasn’t made you any brighter,” said Cersei. "Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.”

Next chapter : Jon

ASOS Chapter 15, 16

These two chapters are a bit icky and deals with sexual maturity. Feels like a parallel journey.

The Jon chapter consists of Tormund talking about his sex life, Jon claiming he's too young for sex and Ygritte basically throwing herself at him.

The Sansa chapter consists of men staring at Sansa's body sexually, maids remarking about her matured bosom, Margaery playing kissing games with her cousins etc.

First love’s Resemblance:

And Sansa fell wildly in love with Ser Waymar, and Jon fell in love with a wildling girl kissed by fire:

Indeed, Sansa’s first crush was a brother of the Night’s Watch:

“Bronze Yohn knows me,” she reminded him. “He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black.” She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. “And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw … he saw Sansa Stark again at King’s Landing, during the Hand’s tourney.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

And Waymar Royce looked like a Stark. Waymar Royce was Jon’s lookalike. More about it here.

And Jon’s first love was Ygritte, a redhead, with blue-grey eyes, and to make the Tully look even more evident, Ygritte called herself half a fish:

“Ygritte punched his arm. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. I'm half a fish, I'll have you know.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

Sansa’s first crush having the Stark Look and Jon’s first lover having the Tully look, reminds me of Catelyn being first betrothed with Brandon Stark but marrying Eddard Stark instead. Brandon, died like Waymar. Ned said Jon’s is a younger version of himself. Ned never imagined marrying Catelyn, he had a young infatuation with Ashara Dayne, but he never acted on his feelings for her, and she died. Ned also killed Ashara’s brother Arthur.

Sansa fell wildly in love with Waymar, but she won’t marry him, he died. She will probably fall in love with Jon in a more mature and calmly way. Jon Snow, after a non-con beginning, ended loving Ygritte, not a lady, that offered him a “comfort level of femininity”, but he won’t marry her, she died. Jon will probably fell in love with Sansa, freely and willingly.

I think there is more to say and I could expand what was already said, but I think I covered the basics.

And to finish this post I will leave you with this picture. A friend helped me to colored the rose blue, the original was yellow. I call this picture: “Sansa with messy hair”. And I think this picture is the perfect way to end this long answer.

Good night.

#Sansa Stark #Jon Snow #Sansa x Jon #Jon x Sansa #jonsa #Ygritte #jon and ygritte #jon and arya #jon and val #jon and alys

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just-patchy · 3 years

Text

Twst OC: Dwynwen Philautia

Picrew used

@walpurga-nacht-academy

Name: Dwynwen Philautia

Nickname(s)/Alias(es): Dwyn

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

D.O.B.: 14th October

Horoscope: Libra

Homeland: Isle of Lamentation

ღWNA Fileღ

Dorm: Rosenhex

School Year: 2nd

Class: 2-B

Class No.: 17

Occupation: Student

Club: Literature

Best Subject: Language and Literature, Music

ღAppearanceღ

Height: 6’1”/185 cm (regular), 6’7”/201 cm (with heels)

Weight: 161 lbs

Hair Colour: Pastel pink

Eye Colour: Purple, black scleras

Jewellery/Others: Berets, flower crowns, face markings (3 diamonds below left eye), nails typically painted

ღPersonalityღ

Dwynwen is quite friendly and carefree. They may come off as a little eccentric, but they’re generally kind and caring. They are a hard worker and they’re very organised, with adorably decorated schedule books and sticky notes stuck to almost all of their school belongings. They’re a bit of a loner since they end up spending a lot of time with their little ghost and slime friends without noticing, but they’re easy to talk to, albeit they can be slightly too straightforward and honest at times when they want to.

Dwyn can be flirty at times, typically to get something out of people, though they usually mean well, such as encouraging people to work harder. While they’re more of a caregiver and dislike unnecessary fighting, Dwyn will not hesitate to retract their kindness to those they do not think deserve it. They will remain polite in public and may keep up an act of being seemingly fair, but they can be rather scathing and even cruel when pressed. Dwyn gives people the benefit of the doubt and second chances, so there is a risk of them being taken advantage of. However, they themselves don’t really seem to mind.

Favourite Food: Spicy mixed noodles

Least Favourite Food: Tapioca pearls

Dislikes: Lack of proper pacing

Hobby: Talking to their adorable ghosts and slimes!

Talent: Make up art

ღAbilityღ

Unique Magic: ???

ღTriviaღ

-Dominant Hand: Right

-CV: Satou Hinata (Akiyama Mizuki)*

-Mizuki was used as inspo for Dwyn since they looked alike to begin with when I was mindlessly making Dwyn (also bc i like proseka www)

-While they label their gender as female, they tend to use ‘they/them’ pronouns more than ‘she/her’ pronouns (mainly bc I didn’t really know what gender to settle on when I first made them and I got used to using they/them pronouns for them, both pronouns are fine! I’ve been bouncing back and forth between pronouns for Dwyn-)

-The ghosts and slimes are typically pink, but they’ve taken on a bit of a purple shade(?) since Dwyn joined Rosenhex

-They like anything cute, pretty, and generally aesthetically pleasing

-Dwyn’s hair is very long, reaching mid-calf when let down. They cut their hair on their own occasionally, but their hair grows quite fast

-They draw other people a lot! Usually they have a sketchbook per person aside from those they are unfamiliar with

*CV may change bc while I like the voice, I don’t think it suits Dwyn as well as I initially thought?

#twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #dwynwen philautia #mayhaps a lil mary(?) sue-ish bc personal preferences were included 🌚🌚

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stareyedplanet · 4 years

Text

Rivalry [p.p.]

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 3034

warnings: fluff, a failing grade

summary: a rivalry between you and peter parker unfolds when you receive your first failing grade.

note: this was originally an oc one shot for a challenge on instagram, so if you see any illusions to that, that is why. i went through and did my best to change everything over. i may also post the oc version. i tried to go through and get rid of any mentions of blushing and other descriptors, so hopefully this can be read as pretty gender neutral. if you find anything though, please pm me or send an ask!

——

MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL WAS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE PLACE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. Then again, no one really ever truly liked going to school, not when they could be home doing various activities that were much more interesting than hours filled with boring facts and equations. Sure you were really good at it, and practically coasted along the entire time, but that didn't mean you enjoyed it being upwards of nine hours of your day, the seven hour school day combined with at least two hours of studying and homework.

But the learning wasn't the only thing you disliked about school. Peter Parker was another mark for the minus side.

Most people didn't have rivals, but you did. And his name was Peter. From day one you had been the top two kids in the class with the highest GPA's in the school. You had every class together. Every. Single. One. Which meant every test you both took was a competition, each of you hoping to break that tie you had held for over a year and a half.

You hadn't always gone to Midtown. You was a transfer your Sophomore year, moving from Brooklyn to Queens. It had been hard at first, and you had felt like an outcast, even going to a school full of kids whose smarts rivaled your own. Well, one did. And he was absolutely infuriating in your eyes.

The bell rang, signaling the final warning for all students to get to class. You shot him a glare as you moved to sit at your desk, which of course was right next to his.

"Parker," you bit out as you dropped your bag beside your seat.

"Y/N." Peter greeted, though his tone was much more friendly than hers had been.

The truth was, Peter had few problems with you. He appreciated the academic challenge you offered him. You kept his mind sharper because you puyoud him to be better than he was. He needed someone like that to remind him to do well in school—to remind him that being Spider-Man wasn't his whole life.

"So, you ready for the test?" Peter asked conversationally, trying to make small talk with you.

"Of course I am." You said shortly, shooting him a look. You had studied for hours. Chemistry had never been your best subject, and therefore you always needed more focused study time on it.

You wouldn't admit it to anyone, especially not Peter, but you were nervous. This unit was especially hard for you, and you were worried that you hadn't studied enough. But you couldn't get a bad grade on this test. If you did it would push Peter into first place. You couldn't let that happen.

You took a deep breath as your teacher handed out your tests, placing the packet on the desk in front of you. But the second you looked at the first question, your mind went blank.

"You have an hour. No additional time will be given for this test." Your teacher explained quickly.

You took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm your racing heart. You could do this. You knew you had the information in your head. It was there somewhere.

The time clicked passed and you kept glancing at the clock, watching as the hand moved closer to the end of class. You were screwed. So screwed because you had eight out of forty questions answered with only twenty minutes left in class.

At one point Peter had glanced over at you and noticed your expression. You looked worried, something he had never seen on your face while you were taking a test. To him the test was a breeze, but he could tell you were struggling more than usual.

When class came to an end, you were hesitant to turn yours in. Your hand was shaking and you just knew you had failed. The last five minutes had been spent rushing through and circling random answers, hoping for the best, but even still you didn't get the last page done. Which meant you definitely had seven questions wrong. And based on the way the questions you had actually taken her time on were looking, you had a feeling you had failed the test. It was a feeling deep in your gut that you just couldn't shake and you despised it.

The two days between getting the test back and the day you took it were excruciatingly long. You were glad you had no tests in that time because you felt like you had lost your head. Nothing felt right anymore. School became harder and you found herself spacing out a lot more than usual. You knew it was because you had lost confidence in yourself, but you couldn't help it. Not until you got your test back.

Finally, it was grade day. you sat at your desk as Mr. Turner talked. He always waited until the end of the period to have the students pick up their grades. It kept them from interrupting as much with questions or some nonsense about disagreements with grades. If there was anything wrong it was much easier for them to talk to him about it after class, or even after school.

You startled when the bell rang through. you had spaced out yet again and become lost in your thoughts. With uncertainty, you approached Mr. Turner, waiting to be in the back of the line so no one else would hear or see your grade.

"Y/N, I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed with your test grade. You are one of my best students." Mr. Turner said with a sigh as he handed over your paper once you stood in front of him.

There was a big fat 'F' written at the top. You had gotten a score of sixteen. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the sight. You had never gotten such a terrible grade before.

"I know you have been struggling with this part of our class. So I will make you a deal. I want you to be tutored by Mr. Parker, and in exchange I will let you retake this test. I've already talked this over with him, and he said he had no problems tutoring a peer." Mr. Turner explained as he leaned against his desk.

"With Peter? Please Mr. Turner, anyone but him." you groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was admit to Peter that there was actually something he was better than you at.

"He had the highest score on this test. And you know Peter is very good at science. I want you to succeed. And being tutored by Peter is how you can do that. So do we have a deal, Y/N?" Mr. Turner asked pointedly.

You knew you had little choice if you wanted to retake the test. But of all people, of course it had to be Peter Parker. The one person you wished it wasn't.

"Yes. I guess so, Mr. Turner." you sighed eventually.

"Good. I suggest you talk to Mr. Parker. I'll let you retake the test Friday. That gives you two days to study." He said. He believed it was only fair. Typically he didn't allow retakes of his tests, but he hated to see a normally good student struggle so much.

"Okay. Thank you for giving me another chance." you told him. You were very appreciative. But you just did not want to be tutored by Peter. You knew he would probably hold it over her head for the rest of your high school careers.

You winded her way through the halls as you headed to her math class. You and Peter shared that class as well, except the difference was math was like breathing to you. It was something you didn't even have to think about to do. And that was exactly how you liked things.

It wasn't hard to spot the curly haired boy sitting at his desk. You had the momentary thought to just ignore him and study on your own, but you couldn't risk Peter reporting back and saying you had never studied together and ruin your chances of retaking your test. So you headed over to him, stopping in front of his desk.

"Mr. Turner said you would tutor me so I can retake our last test." you said, getting straight to business.

Peter lifted his head from where he had been laying it on the desk. He nodded as he looked at you with wide eyes. When Mr. Turner had said there was a student who he wanted the boy to tutor, he never in a million years imagined that you were the one who needed help. That, and he didn't think you would ever accept his help due to your feud.

"Uh, y–yeah." He stuttered, clearly surprised to see you. "I didn't think you'd be the one who needed tutoring."

"You gonna back out on me?" you asked. Maybe if he did you could convince Mr. Turner to let you be tutored by someone else.

"What? No! Of course not." Peter said quickly. He hadn't meant it to come off that way. He had only meant it had never crossed his mind that you were the one who needed help. Really his heart jumped at the idea of getting to spend time alone with the girl he had a hopeless crush on. "So... So when do you want to study?"

"Well, I have two days. So after school?" you asked, your books held tightly to your chest.

"Yeah. That works for me. Do you... Do you want to come over to my place?" Peter asked. "To study, I mean."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Sounds fine with me. I'll just text my parents and let them know. What's your address?" you asked, seeming very unbothered and bored.

"Oh... I figured we could just walk to my place together after school. It would be easier because I could show you how to get there and we wouldn't have to worry about you getting lost." Peter said quietly, dropping his gaze down. Did you really dislike him enough to not even want to walk with him after school?

You sighed, making a face at the idea. You could lie and say that you had to run by your place to grab something, but knowing Peter he would just offer to come with you there. And you really needed all the study time you could get, so you found yourself agreeing, albeit reluctantly.

"Fine. I guess I can just walk with you after school. How does five-thirty sound for pickup? My dad gets off work at five, so he should be able to come get me then." you explained quickly, glancing up at the clock that would cut your conversation short.

"Five-thirty sounds fine by me. I think we'll be home alone because my Aunt May has work too." Peter admitted, hoping that wouldn't freak you out or anything.

"Okay." you said before moving to your seat across the room, not seeing how deflated Peter got when the conversation ended so suddenly. You also didn't see Peter's continuous longing stares at you across the room. The boy resembled a puppy who was yearning for the attention of someone, only he only wanted the attention of the one who apparently wanted to be nothing more than his rival. Peter didn't even want to be your rival. He just wanted to be your friend, and he didn't understand why you both couldn't have a friendship, and a rivalry that pushed each other to be better. It had nothing to do with his hopeless crush on you. Nothing at all.

The hours seemed to tick by so slowly for him, and while normally he was focused on school being over so he could go one patrol, today he was just excited to get to spend time with the person of his dreams. Or, more accurately, the person who appeared in his dreams.

Finally that last bell of the day wrung, and not wanting to seem too desperate, Peter waited for you by the door of the classroom. The person in question eventually wandered over to him after saying goodbye to one of your friends. You had plenty of friends. So many that Peter was sure that you couldn't possibly actually be friends with them all. But you seemed to be. No matter who you were talking to, you knew their name in a heartbeat and was always referring back to previous conversations about what was happening in their lives.

"You ready to go, Parker?" you asked him with a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready. Are you?" Peter replied awkwardly. He had been fine all day, but suddenly he was realizing this was really happening.

"Yeah. Otherwise I wouldn't be standing in front of you." you pointed out with an eye roll.

Peter flushed and nodded. "Oh, yeah. Right. Of course." He stuttered, shaking his head at himself as they walked out of the building.

The entire walk was nothing but awkward, neither teenager really making a move to talk to the other. Peter was too socially awkward to easily make conversation with his crush, and you just had no desire to actually attempt to talk to Peter. It was already bad enough that Peter knew you had failed at something.

You walked from the school to the subway station where Peter pulled out his phone and shot a text to someone. Once that ride was over, you finished up your journey by walking to his apartment. You were both silent as Peter fumbled for his keys, save for the occasional quiet curse from the boy as he struggled.

Finally the door was unlocked and you went inside, and you looked around in curiosity. You were getting to see how Peter lived. You couldn't help but be interested.

"So this is where you live, huh?" you asked as you looked around.

"Uh, yeah. We used to live in a bigger place, but then my Uncle Ben died and we couldn't afford it anymore." Peter explained quietly, his mood dropping at the mention of his Uncle Ben.

"Oh. I'm sorry." you said quietly. "So, uh, ready to get started?"

"Yeah. Let me just grab a snack. If you want to go settle in my room or something that's fine. All of my books are in there." He explained. "Unless you aren't comfortable with that. Then we can just sit on the couch." He said quickly.

You raised an eyebrow at how nervous he was before eventually shaking your head and moving towards the hallway, poking your head into the room that you could easily tell was his based on all the Star Wars stuff.

You took a seat on the floor and pulled your backpack off your back and set it in front of you, pulling out your Science supplies. You glanced up at Peter when he finally came into the room.

"I didn't know what you liked. So I got you a Capri-Sun and lots of different chips." Peter explained to you with a smile. His arms were full of different snack items. He wanted you to have the opportunity to pick for yourself.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that. Thanks, I guess." you said, feeling your cheeks get warm. Why was he being so considerate? It was weird. But it made your heart skip a beat.

Peter sat on the floor beside her, dropping the snacks everywhere. He pulled out his phone, frowning and huffing at it.

"What's wrong?" you decided to ask.

"Nothing. It's just—" he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I do this Stark Internship thing. And recently Mr. Stark hasn't needed my help. Which really sucks because I want to do more, you know? And I can't do that because no one ever replies to my texts so I never know what's going on until it is too late. And then I get behind on stuff and am not where I need to be when I need to be there. And it's really annoying because it wouldn't be hard to keep me updated. And it just really sucks because I want to do more and no one ever lets me, and I jus—"

Peter was cut off suddenly when you surged forward and pressed your lips to his. It was a short kiss, nothing more than a peck, but it was clear it had shocked both of you.

"Did you just kiss me?" Peter asked, his cheeks red and his eyes wide as he looked at her.

If he was surprised, you were absolutely floored by her actions. Her eyes were wide and you was frozen a bit away from him, resembling a deer in headlights.

"I–I think so." you said quietly after a large lapse of silence.

"Why?"

"I don't know." you replied, completely stumped on a good answer.

Peter looked at you strangely as you sat there on the floor, just staring at each other, both trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Peter had never expected for anyone to kiss him, and you had never expected to kiss Peter. But it had happened, and now you had to figure out what to do about it.

"That... That was a really nice way of shutting me up." Peter said, sure his entire face resembled a tomato. But it was comforting to see that you were flustered in your own way.

"Sorry. I don't know why I did that. I–I can leave if you want me to." you said quietly, finally dropping your gaze to the ground. You were mentally scolding yourself, worried you had just ruined your chances of getting to retake that test Friday.

"No!" Peter said quickly, wincing at how loud he was. "No, uh, do you, do you maybe wanna do it again?"

He was stumbling over his words as he looked at you, and Peter was prepared for your rejection. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he hoped maybe you liked the first one.

"S–Sure." you stuttered. "I think I'd like that."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x yn #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x yn #peter parker one shot

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adrenaline-roulette · 4 years

Text

I say no

Pairing: Josh Washington x Reader Summary: This takes place in the aftermath of the events of Hannah and Beth’s disappearance, and before the return to the mountain. I’ve been listening to, I say no from the Heather’s musical on repeat lately, and have basically created a multi chapter fic to go with it. I’m not sure how many chapters this will be in total, but this first chapter is mostly being used as set up, and introducing our lead! Warnings: Language Word Count: 2.5K+

Chapter One

Being the new kid in school is never an easy thing, starting part way through the term though? That only makes things worse. You want to say that it isn’t your fault that you had to change schools, truly you do. But unfortunately, that would just be a lie. There was no one else you could blame, not really. It was your choices which had lead you to being expelled, no one had forced you to do what you did, this was all on you. Starting part way through the term meant you hadn’t been given the chance to select your own classes, and instead, had been thrown into anything that had a free space. Which was how you had ended up here, sitting in a computer lab surrounded by media students, with you not knowing the first thing about film production.

The class consisted of roughly thirty students, all of whom had broken off into either partners or small groups, gossiping about what they had gotten up to during their mid-winter break. You sat alone, scribbling todays date at the top of your notebook, as you absently swivelled in your chair. Straining your ears, you tried your best to pick up on what some of the surrounding people were talking about, though you were only able to pick up bits and pieces. “Washington sisters…” “-Police didn’t find any trace.” “Think Josh will come back?” “Hannah and Mike got cosy….”

None of the names being thrown around meant anything to you, but clearly whatever had occurred was the talk of the school. You felt almost left out, a part of you wishing you had been here at least a few months longer, that way you may at least know the people who were being discussed. “That’s enough, settle down everyone!” A female voice calls from the front of the classroom, causing silence to fall over the entire class. “Welcome back class, I hope you all enjoyed your winter break….” As the woman, who you now assume to be the teacher continues with her welcome, you take the chance to look her over. Dark brunette hair had been sculpted into a high bun atop her head, the hairs having been pulled so tightly away from her face, she almost appeared bald at first glance. A bright smear of fuchsia coated her lips, and you have to give her credit for that, it was a bold colour choice for a woman bordering on sixty… She wore a knee length, blue 1950’s style skirt with pale pink roses dotted around the edge, completing the look with a white turtle neck sweater. All in all it was an, interesting outfit to say the least. “Now, we have a new student starting with us today, Y/N Y/L/N please make yourself known to the class.”

Fuck, you knew this part was coming, but that didn’t make you dread it any less. Fighting back the groan which danced on the tip of your tongue, you pushed yourself up from your chair, raising your hand partially. “Hi.”

“Hello Y/N, I’m Mrs Hill. Welcome to our school.” Your teachers smile is all teeth, and you respond with a soft head nod, not wanting to be stood any longer than necessary. Mrs Hill returns to the board at the front of the classroom, marking the end of her greeting towards you. A breath slips out as you collapse back in your chair, causing a few sets of eyes to turn your way.

You’re perhaps ten minutes through class and had already zoned out, doodling tiny patterns in the margin of your page, when the door swings open and a young man enters, his bag slung over his shoulder, and a look of unease gracing his features. “Ah, Josh. Thank you for joining us, please take a seat.”

The man, Josh, looks about ready to argue with Mrs Hill, but quickly loses all fight when he catches sight of the blonde man sitting one seat away from you. The blonde was shaking his head no, while mouthing something to Josh. You couldn’t make out what he was saying, but whatever it was, it was enough to get Josh to stalk across the class and take his seat. You had chosen to sit at the back of the class in the corner, while the blonde man had sat nearby, leaving one seat free between you. Josh rolls the spare seat away from the desk, dumping his bag and flopping down ungracefully. He turns in his seat, looking over his shoulder at you, and lifting one brow, before his attention is drawn back to Mrs Hill.

*****

Two weeks down, and god knows how many to go. You had successfully done the bare minimum in all of your classes so far, much to your teachers’ disapproval. The only class which you put any effort into was media, surprisingly. Whether that was because you actually enjoyed the subject, or because Josh and the blonde man who sat next to him, Chris, were both willing to help you out, and include you in their groups, was still up for debate. “Hey, hey Y/N, wait up!” A familiar voice calls to you from the opposite end of the corridor, you turn to see Chris bounding down towards you, the man reminding you of an over excited Labrador.

“Hey, what’s up Chris?” You smile, zipping your bag closed, after swapping your books from your previous class out for the books needed for the next.

“I wanted to see if you had anything planned for lunch today?”

You regard him with raised brows, thinking back to what you had packed for your lunch. “Um, nothing special. Just the usual ham and cheese sandwich….”

“What? Oh, no that’s not what I meant! I wanted to see if you’d like to have lunch with me and Josh, and the rest of the gang? If you don’t have other plans that is?”

“Oh, um yeah? Yeah, that sounds really nice thanks.” You grin, before following Chris down the corridor, where he leads you into an empty classroom. “Right, is this the part where you murder me?” You chuckle, though you quickly stop as you notice a look of hurt flash through his eyes.

Chris drags his fingers through his already messy hair, an uneasy smile forming over his lips. “Haha, no. Um this is one of the perks of being mates with the class president.” He shrugs, flicking the light switch on, and illuminating the room.

“The class president? That’s Mike yeah?” You ask, expecting Chris to answer, instead you’re met with an unfamiliar voice in response.

“At your service, and you are?” The man in question bows, extending a hand to you with a cocky grin.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You grin, fighting against the eyeroll which threatened to overcome you. It wouldn’t do to go rolling your eyes at the class president, that would be a great way to make him dislike you!

“So tell me Y/N, how is it you know who I am, yet I don’t know you?”

You shrug, resting your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. “The girl who showed me around on my first day pointed you out in the corridor. She said she would’ve introduced us, but didn’t want to interrupt your game of tonsil hockey.” Your lips quirk at the corner as you finish.

“This tour guide you had, was she about this tall, blonde hair, hazel eyes, and covered in paint splatters?” Chris laughs, his eyes now shining with mirth.

You nod, looking between the two men. “Sounds like something our Sammy would say. She’ll be along soon, and I’m sure Mike will want to have a couple of words with her about introducing him in such a way.”

As if on cue, the door swings open again, this time with Sam walking in, followed closely by Josh, then a blonde woman and brunette woman you didn’t recognise. “Y/N, hey it’s great to see you again!” Sam waves, as Josh makes his way over to you, leaning against a desk near you.

“You remember my name?” You blink in surprise at Sam, who simply grins in reply.

“Of course I remember your name, we don’t get many new students here.”

“Don’t bullshit Sam, we get plenty of new students here.” The brunette smirks, flipping her hair behind her ear as she sidles up to Mike.

The second blonde giggles, a tinkling sound which you imagine would get tiresome rather quickly. “It’s just not everyday we get a new student who burnt down their last school’s science labs….”

You bite your bottom lip, a frown creasing your features as you cast your gaze towards the ground. Slowly, you nod your head, blinking away the stinging tears which clawed at your eyes. “Right, thanks for that. This has been great guys, but I’ve got my own personal demons who can talk to me like this, I don’t think I need to hear it twice.” You mutter, pushing away from the desk and starting across the room.

“That’s great Jess, really, just perfect.” You hear Josh growl, and you notice the blonde shrink away under his harsh glare.

“Em, that wasn’t fair. And Jess, pull your fucking head in.” Chris grumbles.

You move towards the door pushing your way through, paying no attention to the two people you barge past who had been trying to enter the room. “Everything alright-” You don’t stick around to hear the rest of what the new voice had to say. You didn’t need this, all you had to do was get through the rest of this year, and then next year and finally you would be finished with school. Fuck friends, who even needs them anyways?

You storm into the bathroom, slamming the stall door closed behind you, and making sure to lock it, before sitting down on the toilet lid, doubling over and resting your forearms over your knees, then pressing your forehead against them. After a few minutes there’s a faint knock on the bathroom door, which you find odd, it was a public bathroom, why would anybody bother knocking? “Y/N, its me… Can I come in?” That was Sam, you would recognise her voice anywhere. You’re half tempted to tell her to bugger off, but she hadn’t done anything wrong, if anything she had been trying to keep the peace.

“Yeah.” You call back, the only response being that of the bathroom door creaking open. You can hear male voices just outside, but you pay them little mind, putting it down to students passing by as Sam entered.

The silence which fills the tiled room is tangible, and a part of you almost thinks Sam had never even bothered to come inside. “I’m sorry about Jess and Emily. They’re, well I don’t even know how to describe them really. Neither of them have a filter though, I guess that’s a start… They’re dealing with something at the moment, we all kinda are, but they don’t seem to know how to vice those feelings…. I don’t know if anything that I’m saying is making any sense. But just know that I’m sorry.”

You watch Sam’s feet pace back and forth in front of the stall door, occasionally pausing as if she were about to settle, then picking up their walk once again. Leaning forward, you unlock the door, allowing it to swing inwards. “I did it.”

Sam pauses, locking eyes with you and tilting her head to the side. “Did what?”

“I burnt down the science labs. Nearly got a teacher killed in the process….”

Sam nods, averting her eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah, I know. I was told before taking you around school, the admin staff wanted me to know that apparently you could be, how they said, unstable…”

Your head perks up at this, and you wipe away one of the few tears which had slipped free. “They said I was unstable?”

Sam nods once again, though this time remains silent. “I’m not though! It was something that happened, but I’m getting the help I need!”

“Hey, it’s okay! I never thought you were!” Sam moves into the stall, resting a hand over your shoulder rubbing her thumb in gentle circles there. “During winter break, we did something terrible… At least, I think we did. If anyone found out what we did, they would call me unstable too.”

“Wh-What did you do?” You stammer out, blinking up at the smiling woman. She looked far to innocent to have done anything worth being labelled unstable over.

Sam shakes her head no, the smile falling for a moment. “Not now, I’ll tell you some other time. For now, lets get you cleaned up, and ready for class.”

You take her outstretched hand, and feel yourself be pulled into a standing position, allowing Sam to lead you over to the sinks, where she wets some paper towel, and dabs it under your eyes, clearing them of your smudged makeup. “There we go, good as new!” She grins, balling up the paper and throwing it into the bin. “Ready to head back out?”

“No, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You shrug, following Sam to the door, her hand resting on the handle.

“I’ll talk to Jess and Emily, see if I can get them to apologise…”

“No, I don’t want a forced apology. I’d be happy with them to just not bring my past up again.”

“Easy done.” Sam pulls the door open, and you both march back into the world of school life, the corridors were beginning to fill with students once more, and you could only assume classes would be starting shortly. Chris and Josh had made themselves comfortable on the ground, backs pressed up against the wall as the spoke animatedly about something.

Josh is the first to see the both of and leaps to his feet, grinning mostly at you. “Hey, sorry about the girls back there… They can be a bit bitchy sometimes.” He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, back to the classroom you had all left.

“It’s fine, I know how girls can be sometimes.” You shrug, turning to smile softly at Sam, before returning you attention to Josh.

Sam watches Chris from the corner of her eye as he struggles to stand up, rolling her eyes as it takes him three attempts. “Come on you big oaf, we’ve gotta get to History.” She grins, taking a few steps backwards down the corridor.

Chris seems reluctant to leave, but does so anyways, passing you one final smile before leaving with Sam. “Right, class. That’s a thing isn’t it?”

Josh smirks, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and leading you through the mass of students. “Mhm, it is a thing. But no one said it was a mandatory thing…”

You turn your head to look up at Josh, who had his eyes locked dead a head, his sight set on the front doors. “Last I heard, school in fact was mandatory.”

“I’ve been given special privileges due to, external circumstances. We’ll just say I needed you for support?”

“Fine, where are we going then Josh?”

MASTERLIST

If you want to be added to my taglist so you’re notified when the next chapters come up, just let me know!

Chapter Two out now!

#josh Washington x reader #josh washington fanfic #josh washington #rami malek/ josh washington #rami malek fanfiction #josh washington x y/n #until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn fanfic

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fortitudina · 3 years

Text

DETAILED CHARACTER BIO QUESTIONS.

Name: Cillian Diarmuid Brockhurst ( Kye-Lan )

Nickname(s): Ci ( Kye ), Brocky, Snipes.

Name significance/meaning: Cillian ~ This name has several known meanings, including “war,” “strife,” and “bright-headed.” The word cille also means “associated with the church,” so the name is often associated with the word “church” or “monastery.”

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Birthday: 11th November

Deathday: ~

Star Sign/Astrology Sign/Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Location: Los Angeles

Birthplace: Los Angeles

Ethnicity: Irish-American

Nationality: American

Race: Caucasian

Physical Appearance: Clean cut and well presented average height male with brunette hair and blue eyes.

Skin Tone: Sandy-Tan ( https://www.schemecolor.com/skin-pastels.php )

Complexion: fair, smooth & soft.

Eye Color: Old World Blue ( x )

Natural Hair Color: Brunette

Height: 5’10” / 1.78m

Weight: 77kg / 169 lbs / 12st 12lbs

Body Type: Mesomorph

Build: Muscular / Athletic

Posture: Healthy [ x ]

Birthmarks: Strawberry mark on his right hip.

Scars: Gunshot scar on the right side of his chest & left side of the hip region of his abdomen. Stabbing scar to his abdomen and one on the back on the right hip area. One on the back of his neck.

Left Handed/Right Handed/Ambidextrous: Right handed

Age Character Appears to Others: 32

Dyed Hair Color: undyed

Usual Hairstyle: Short

Tattoos: Army tattoo on right bicep

Piercings: none

Makeup Style: ~

Clothing Style: Smart-casual

Clothing Size: Chest ~ 32inches / Waist ~ 26inches / Hips ~ 32inches

Shoe Style: Steel-toed boots, sneakers, oxfords.

Shoe Size: 10

Nail Appearance: short, well kept.

Eyebrow Shape: Straight ( x )

Features: Soft features overall; perfectly symmetrical

Face Shape: Oval

Facial Hair: Light stubble

Voice: Deep

Distinguishing Feature: Smile

Extrovert or Introvert: Ambivert

Personality Traits: Cheeky, Compassionate, Loyal

MBTI Personality: ESFJ-A

Optimist or Pessimist: Optimist

Temperament: Cheeky disposition

Mood: Cheerful

Attitude: Positive

Strengths: Caring, Kind, Giving

Flaws: Blunt, Hero Complex, Brash

Mannerisms: Smirking, quirking of eyebrow, cheeky grins

Habits: fiddling with pens or small objects

Morning Person or Night Owl: Morning person

Pet Peeves: idiots, bad lying, loud eaters, slow people ( walking etc )

Favorite Sin: Gluttony

Favorite Virtue: Patience

Weakness: Loved ones or friends & colleagues getting hurt / involved.

Strengths: Sharp-shooter, Skilled hand-to-hand combat.

Expressiveness: strong use of both facial expressions and hand movements.

Ruled by Heart or Mind: A little bit of both; more heart though.

Mindset: Positive

Philosophy: “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit”

Motivated by: Food, Justice, Happiness.

Everyday Speech: “The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it.”

Life Motto: “Don't count the days, make the days count.”

Energy Level: High

Memory Level: Eidetic (Photographic) Memory

Disabilities: none

Phobias: Incredibly small spaces.

Addictions: Does pizza and poptarts count?

General aptitude: Fluid Intelligence

Mental Strengths: Problem-Solving, Psychoanalysis,

Mental Weakness: Not a Genius

Physical Strengths: Physically fit, keen hand-eye coordination,

Physical Weakness: weakened cervical vertebrae from an old injury during a tour in Afghanistan

Past Illnesses: Chicken pox twice as a kid

Major Surgeries: Surgery to pin his cervical spine. Surgery to remove various bullets.

Accidents: Had several bumps and scrapes whilst at work.

Stability: Very Stable

Allergies: Pollen, Shellfish

Job Title: Detective

Company: LAPD

Career Type: Police

Education: High School, Military, Police Academy

College: ~

Work Ethic: Hard-working

Job History: Sniper in the Army, Beat Cop, Detective.

Income: $74,000 per anum

Political Party/Organizations: Doesn’t do politics

Volunteer Work: Helps at the Veteran’s housing association.

Dream job: Got it

What job would s/he do poorly at: Doctor

Career satisfaction: Love the job

Diet: Coffee and any food easy to grab on the go

Favorite Foods: Poptarts, Barbecue-based, Chicago stuffed crust pizza.

Favorite Drinks: Coffee, Beer, Cranberry juice.

Favorite Movie: Top Gun

Favorite Music: doesn’t really have a favourite

Favorite Book: doesn’t have time to read

Favorite Place: Does bed count?

Favorite activities: Running, Shooting, Cooking

Favorite time of day: Morning

What makes them happy? Catching the bad guys, seeing friends & family happy.

What makes them sad? Losing someone close to them.

Hobbies: Shooting, Running, Cooking, Singing

Interests: Films, Artwork

Favorite animal: Hyena

Loves to do: Wind people up and be cheeky

Hates to do: Paperwork

Inspired by: Former Army Colleagues

Raised by: (family) Mother and Father

Parent Status: Married ~ alive

Mother’s Name: Siobhan Marie Brockhurst

Mother’s Age: 63

Mother’s Background: Irish

Father’s Name: Patrick James Brockhurst

Father’s Age: 68

Father’s Background: American

Relationship with Mother: Close

Relationship with Father: Okay..

Parenting Type: Strict

Only Child? One of Three

First Born, Middle Child, or Youngest? Middle

# of Siblings: Second of three siblings

Relationship with Siblings: Close to brother; Distant with sister

Extended Family: ~

Family Relations: ~

How has family life shaped the character? Helped to both break him and make him who he is today

What they like most about their family: They will all get together for holidays and birthdays

What they dislike most about their family: The religious side

Children: Nil

Pets: Two Dogs

Best Friend(s): Doesn’t have one.

Worst Enemy: ~

Many acquaintances or few close friends? Few close friends

Sexual Preference: Any

Orientation: Pansexual

Relationship Status: Verse Dependent

Marital Status: Verse Dependent

First Love: Carlie Anne Vaugn

Current Love or Aspiring Love: Verse Dependent.

Notable Ex-Lovers: Azrael Mortem

Top 3 Loved Ones: ~

Top 3 Disliked Ones: ~

Who knows the character best? Eoghan, his brother or Lupita, his work partner.

Childhood: Cillian had a fairly stable upbringing; his parents in a strong marriage and with an older brother to help teach him the ropes, Cillian did well during his early school years and thrived in all of his subjects.

Adolescence: As he got to high school, he joined the football and soccer teams; being rather sporty as a child meant his fitness was impeccable. When he finished High school, instead of going to college, Cillian got in with the wrong crowd and ended up being arrested for Breaking and Entering and several counts of theft.

Young Adult: Went through Military training then, Cillian’s Regiment was sent to Afghanistan where they served three tours before he was shot in the Line of Duty after going through Hell being tortured with one of his comrades.

Adult: After being medically discharged from the army, Cillian took a year out for convalescence before joining LAPD. Given his history with the army, he soon shot up through the ranks until he became a Detective. He will also play the role of Police Sniper/marksman if they have to go into particularly tough situations that require an overwatch.

Moments/Experiences that shaped them: Getting into the wrong crowd after High school. Being sent into the Army. Being captured and tortured during his final tour in Afghanistan.

How have they changed as a person throughout their life? He has matured a considerable amount and become regimented and organised as an adult, with a respect for the law and bringing justice.

Major regrets: Getting involved with who he did as a teenager and ending up getting arrested.

Biggest life lessons learned: Don’t get arrested.

Religious Beliefs: Catholic

Upbringing: Strict & Religious

Core Values: Dependability, Consistency, Loyalty, Reliability, Integrity.

Morals: Always tell the truth, Treat others as you want to be treated, Be dependable, Be forgiving, Have integrity, Take responsibility for your actions, Have patience, Be loyal, Have respect for yourself and others

What does s/he believe is evil? The force in nature that governs and gives rise to wickedness and sin.

What does s/he believe is good? Morally excellent; virtuous; righteous; pious

Risks Worth Taking: Those that keep both the city and loved ones safe.

Important milestones: Making Lieutenant in the army. Reaching Detective in LAPD. NOT DYING whilst in both the Army or LAPD.

Achievements: The Purple Heart as a result of his capture & suffering endured during that time.

Failures: Getting Arrested as a teenager

Lifestyle: Busy

Character Traits: Hard-working, Brave, Compassionate, Honest, Successful, Fighter, Mischievous, Thoughtful, Sassy, Humorous, Helpful, Independent, Loyal, Courageous, Responsible.

Culture:

Main Goal: Have a long and happy life, full of hard work, fun and family.

Minor Goal: Drive the damn car at work.

Desire: There are several.

Biggest mistakes: Getting in with the wrong crowd.

Life lessons: Not everyone is going to like you.

Dream Life: The one I have now

Worst Nightmare: The Hell I endured whilst on my final tour.

Favorite Memories: Winding my brother up. Making Detective.

Least favorite memories: Getting Tortured

Things they want in life: Family. Love. Fun.

Things they don’t want in life: Suffering. Pain. Heartache.

What obstacles are currently in their way? Work.

Any secrets: Yes, but if you think he’s going to tell anyone, you’re idiotic.

Worldview: It’s just a little bit fucked.

Personal Hero: Former Sergeant Major.

Internal Conflict: Questioning if he’s good enough for his job at times.

External Conflict: Seeing the scars upon his body and being reminded of each event; wishing he could get rid of them all.

What others think of them: Fun and loveable; a genuine and caring guy.

What they think of themselves: an idiot; not good enough.

What they wish they could change: What they did in the past.

What they wish they could have: less strict father.

What gets them fired up: Liars. Suspects who think they’re clever.

Their definition of a good life: A steady job with a family and friends surrounding them.

Risks worth taking: Anything that keeps both family and friends safe.

Things they take for granted: Coffee. Beer. Time at times.

What inspires them: Seeing justice get served.

What they have doubts about: being good enough.

What makes them feel alive: The thrill of the chase.

What makes them want to do better: Any case they do not solve / Criminal that doesn’t get a guilty charge.

What do they want to be remembered for? Being a good and loyal man.

How will the character change? He might become a husband or a father? Perhaps even Lieutenant or Captain of LAPD some day.

#* CILLIAN { HEADCANON }

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cilliansaccent · 4 years

Text

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

Cillian will act very differently compared to the Cillian we know.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky, dirty, nasty and extremely TABOO!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 4,978

!!Warnings!!: Mention of sex before foreplay and whatnot at the end.

Chapter Name: My Pet

Brief Chapter Outline: Back to class, Tessa finds out that some of her classmates had attended the party Esther threw and some embarrassing videos. She is ready to knock some teeth out before it converts to murder when she hears two certain people together in a classroom after hours... Then it leads to her discovering something.

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Tessa knew she was screwed today. She would have to come to class and tell Cillian why she had not uploaded her assignment and she was so not looking forward to it. It was a fair chunk of her grade. She hoped the end of term assignment would boost her up, she was doing well in her other subjects for the course though.

"Why do you even bother putting make-up on?" Elijah asked, he was still naked in her bed and watched her.

"I need to look good. Happens when you are a female model." She smiled. She was seated at her table and applying lipstick on.

"I guess that's true." He laid back on his back, "Got work today. I should go home..." He trailed off.

"You can stay here as long as you want." She mused as she stood up and pulled off her dressing gown. She pulled on her thong and a simple black bodysuit, high waist black jeans and a delicate mesh sparkly top. She braided back her hair and tugged on a pair of white sneakers.

"Yeah I could but I need the money..." he let out a loud dramatic sigh.

"Aw, poor baby." She laughed as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over him, "Message me after you finish work?"

"I will. Want me to come over tonight?" He leaned up and kissed her chin gently.

"You can come over whenever you want." She played with a curl of his hair and smiled.

"Sweet. I'll make sure I climb up on the balcony and sneak through." He teased as he sat up and had a hand on her thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth.

"Such a romantic. But you might hurt yourself and I don't want that." She reached out and touched his shoulders and ran her hands down his arms.

"Yeah, I guess I can't do that then. I'll just give you a call after work and see where you are at." He nodded.

"Alright. I gotta go now. I'll see you later. Love you." She kissed his cheek, leaving red lipstick behind and headed out. She drove to her uni, parked and headed up. Her nerves kicked in and she started to stress, how the fuck was she going to do this? She knew Cillian was kind and caring but when it came to work not being handed in he was quite hard about it.

She slipped into class with everyone else and took her spot next to Julian who was grim looking.

"You good?" She asked her best friend. He had kept his messages short and brief these past few days.

"Yeah. Peachy." He said giving her a sidelong look before he resumed reading.

She nodded and kept quiet. People came in and some stopped by to tell her this:

"Hey, crazy party on Wednesday night. Thanks for the invite."

"Yo, can't believe you kicked us out! You are so fucking crazy girl!"

"Oh my god," Victoria smirked as she stood in front of her desk as the rest of the group headed to their table. "That sex party at your apartment was so good. I had such a pleasurable night. Your toys were such an abundance, you love a lot of anal though. And BDSM."

Cillian had just walked in and heard what Victoria said to Tessa and only cleared his throat. "Victoria please sit. Class will start." He said with a stern tone.

Victoria laughed and went to go sit as Tessa sat there red-faced. The whole class heard it. Julian let out a soft choke as he glanced at Tessa.

"Sex party?" He whispered.

"Not my idea nor did I approve of such shit. Esther's fault." Tessa muttered.

"Right. I have to show you something after this." He said.

Tessa only grew more stressed.

"I have already begun going through the assignments and luckily enough I've finished them. I must say I am very happy with the work you guys have produced. I'm not the one to have favourites but... I do love the details and the extensive research you all have done. Well-done." Cillian beamed from his desk. "But I do want to express my admiration to Sofia who has done an exceptional job on her report. I will send you all a copy of her work so you may have it as a reference for how you can sort out your reports or for any type of assignment that requires research and using examples and paraphrasing. I thank you all for a pleasant read." Everyone clapped for Sofia who was sticking her nose up and enjoying the attention greatly.

She gave Tessa a cold and sly smirk before her eyes returned to Cillian, all just sex and lust in her eyes.

Tessa wanted to gag and she sunk further into her chair, her heartfelt like shattering as she heard the praise Cillian gave to the stupid bitch. No way was his dislike for her had to have changed so fast, she knew he hated her and how she always came on to him so strongly even in front of everyone. It made her want to rip her eyes out.

Class continued on as per usual and she worked on her script with Julian. She learned that Julian's parents were in town and he wasn't in a good mood as they were the ones who kicked him out of their home when he came out. He was to attend his sister's graduation and had to deal a night worth of shit from his parents. Tessa offered him advice and a safe place in her apartment if he needed a friendly face. He accepted it.

When class was over and people milled around Cillian to received back their marks, Sofia waltzed over and giggled, "Happy I got a great grade? Cillian is so all over me about it. I kinda thought you would've beaten me but hey, look at that. The queen arises higher than her dirty servants." She laughed, "Also, Victoria had such a blast. The videos I've seen really makes me question whether you are a disgusting freak too. Never seen so much leather in once place and such exotic creepy looking toys. You are so fucked in the head." She whispered and left Tessa boiling in her own anger.

"Shit." Julian sat there and saw Tessa watch Sofia as if she was about to rip her head off.

"Videos?" Tessa looked at Julian.

"That is the thing I wanted to tell you about. It's all over Facebook and Instagram." He took out his phone and showed it to her especially one where Victoria and some random two girls and guys were showcasing Tessa's wardrobe and the various sex items she had. Her name wasn't mentioned but Tessa had keen-eyed friends who could pinpoint her clothing and her bedroom.

"I'm gonna fucking kill her." She knew there was no chance those videos would disappear. Forever online.

"What are you gonna do?" Julian asked as he packed up his stuff.

"Nothing. I can't do anything," She whispered as she looked up, Cillian was saying good-bye to the last few students.

"You sure? You could do something." Julian frowned.

"Yeah? Like what? There isn't anything I can do, Julian. What happened has happened." She said.

"What is going on?" Cillian had come over and heard the discussion.

"Nothing," Tessa said quickly as she shoved her stuff into her bag.

Julian pressed his lips together, "I guess I'll see you later." He said and left her alone.

"What videos, Tessa? I've been hearing whispering all class about some... Party you held." Cillian was expecting an answer and he would get one from her. He wasn't too happy with her.

"I held no such party. My roommate held one without my knowledge. House was trashed. I had to clean, throw things out and buy everything again." She pulled her bag on her shoulder. "Now I want to go. I have no time in telling you anything." She turned to go.

"Now, hold up, Tess. What is this aggression suddenly? Why are you acting like this?" Cillian grabbed her arm.

She snatched her arm back and glared at him, "Cause I'm an actor and I'll behave in whatever way I want." She bit back.

Cillian crossed his arms, "You are no such actor. You are behaving like a child and ignored my questions today."

"And Sofia is any fucking better than me?" Oh, God, she was fuming. How dare he call her a child?

"Sofia has become a very respectful girl these past few weeks with my help on aiding her. She's really outshone herself despite her many doubts." Cillian stood his ground. But he knew he wished it would've been the opposite and for Tessa to be the best than that... Skank.

Tessa scoffed and let out an emotionless laugh, "Wow... You... Wow. And I thought you were smarter than this, Cillian. Didn't think fake tits and botox pumped face was what you liked. Maybe I should do the same? Pump my lips till they're like balloons, my tits heavier than a fucking elephant and take out part of my spine so I can snap forward to expose my plastic ass? Is that what it takes you to get your attention?" Her words were spilling out without a filter and she had no way to stop them. She hated the fact that he took so much interest in Sofia and he had private lessons with her. Despite not wanting to talk to him about her life, she enjoyed his gentle spirit and kind eyes. Not once did Elijah came to mind when she had her thoughts on Cillian.

Cillian was shocked to hear those words from Tessa. He only kept his attention on Sofia because... Because he wanted to get Tessa out of his head. The beautiful girl before him enraptured him so fast all he could think was taking her over his desk. And the tight clothing she always wore... Fuck.

"No words, huh? Damn. Your standards are so low, Cillian. I don't want no more lessons with you, I don't need them." Tessa stepped back.

"We need to discuss your assignment you failed to upload. You will come to my office at four this afternoon." He pulled his brain in and go back to teacher mode.

"Yeah. Sure. Fine." She rolled her eyes and stalked out of the room, feeling so much anger she wanted to stab something. But instead, she went for the music room that the music club had owned for themselves. Anyone part of the club could come in here. She was glad no one was here and she pulled out the cello and lost herself into the music.

Cillian was heartbroken when she left. He had no explanation to her about why he took an interest in Sofia. He couldn't just tell her he wanted her in ways that could cost him his job... But fuck, he WAS doing Sofia... What made the difference? Oh, right, he fucked Sofia so he could rid the thoughts of wanting to fuck Tessa. Fuck. He needs to pull himself together and get his damn morals right. He had to end it with Sofia. No more of this stupid shit. Today he would do it when she would come to him.

It came to the end of the day and Tessa had to work herself up to walk towards the office building. She really did not want to talk to Cillian or be near him other than be in class and do her work. It was clear she failed and she didn't want to hear it again. She already got an email. She ran a hand over her throat, then down her shoulder, a thing she would do if she was nervous. She paced back and forth in the hallway.

"Just go. Listen. Agree or disagree on whatever shit he has to say." She muttered to herself, "Then leave. Easy." After a few more minutes of hyping herself up, she headed down the hall past many classrooms.

But there was a sound like a laugh or something spiked her interest. She paused and listened closely... Another sound, a female sigh followed by what was like a... Moan? But it was too soft to really pick out what it was so she slowly backtracked to a room. She stopped in front of a door and could hear the sound of shuffling clothes and another soft sound, definitely a moan. She wondered if it was just some students who wanted to have some risky sex. But no, the next words made her feel like someone shot her.

"Mm, Cillian..." The female voice was none other than Sofia.

Tessa was still as she listened further, she could hear the familiar sounds when someone was thrusting, the creak of the table, the soft grunts of a man, and the sounds of skin to skin. He was going at it and Sofia was clearly trying to hold back her moans. But some loud ones did escape.

But he couldn't... No way. No way would he let Sofia get into his pants. He hated her. Did he not? Jealously slammed into her before she could fight it back. She didn't believe Sofia would do this... She heard the pair get close to their peak and Cillian let out a soft grunt as he finished up.

"Oh... Wow... That was a good one. I like it when you take me hard. Treating me for how good I did today?" She purred.

Shuffling of clothing, "No. I was not. This will be the last time, Sofia. No more." Cillian said with a hard tone.

"Liar. You said that last time and we've fucked like ten times now. You will always come back to me, babe. You like these tits and my tight pussy. I didn't get that surgery for nothing." She huffed.

Tessa wanted to gag but she continued to listen.

"I'm being serious, Sofia. Enough of this. I don't want it anymore." Cillian came by the door and Tessa tensed but he walked away. "You need to stop."

Sofia laughed, "Yeah, yeah. Come on Cillian. I know you love it. Besides, how else will you get that other bitch out of your thoughts?"

Now Tessa was very curious.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Cillian hissed and it sounded like Sofia came close to him.

"It's so fucking obvious. You watch that little skank every time in class. You've moaned her damn name, 'Oh Tessa!' into my ear four times now. Even just then you did it." Sofia said with a low purr.

Tessa couldn't believe that no way would Cillian...

"It's a mistake. Just like we are." Cillian replied.

"Again. You lie. You want her so badly but she's got no balls to ask you for that. Only I do. I mean, I am a bit pissed you think about her instead of me, but at least I get to ride your cock. Also, you won't have her any time soon, she's got a boyfriend. So, you are stuck with me." She giggled. "So, same time tomorrow? I'll wear your favourite panties."

Tessa stepped back from the door and walked away hastily, not wanting to listen any further. Cillian wanted her? Then why was he with Sofia? Was it really true he liked his girls to be naughty? To have the balls to approach him? Sofia just said that. He was calling it quits with Sofia and Tessa hoped he would stick to his word... Maybe... Just maybe...

She shook her head. She was so not thinking right. To try and get Cillian's sole attention on her? It made her aroused. She had thoughts the moment she saw him and she had caught his gaze on her many times, saw the heat and passion. She figured his wanting for her was true. Leaning against the elevator wall she had to come to a conclusion. Should she risk it and make an attempt? Or should she just forget about it all and spend a happy life with Elijah who had shown so many good qualities towards her?

Tess waited in the foyer, standing beside the window and watched the grey sky. Cillian came up eventually and looked over, "Hey, Tess. Sorry for the delay."

She looked over but didn't reply and gave him a curt smile. He guided her to his office and she sat down as he closed the door. She crossed her leg and sat with her arms loosely crossed in her lap as she kept her eyes downward as he sat down with a soft grunt.

He let in a breath and a short sigh, "I'm glad you could come here, Tessa." He said, "I can see you don't want to do this but we must."

"Let's make it quick, hm? I have no time to sit here and be reminded of being a failure." She said as she looked up, keeping her face neutral. Though she could not get the images out of Sofia all over him.

Cillian eased back in his chair in a low slouch, one arm supporting his weight as the other flicked a pen between his fingers.

Fingers that would be inside Sofia.

Tessa only got angrier.

Cillian could see that emotion in her eyes. He wondered why was she so pent up. "Fine. Well, I can skip the whole you not posting your assignment. Can I ask why?"

"My laptop was destroyed from a sex party my roommate hosted." Tessa said without hesitation, "And before you say it, yes, I know. I'm the dumbass who didn't save a second copy or somewhere else."

Cillian was totally dumbfounded, the aggression was pouring through her words and the way she sat. But holy fuck that look on her face... He was turned on. He gritted his teeth and leaned forward, "What is wrong with you Tessa? And don't give me a bullshit response. I know something is up." He snapped back. If she wanted to be like this he would give it right back to her, fuck being her teacher now.

Tessa leaned forward too, all she could see were those lovely lips upon Sofia's, his hands roaming her body and drawing her closer, "Nothing is fucking wrong with me. I'm the most okay person on this planet. Now, tell me I've failed so I can go." She said.

"What is it with you and constantly wanting to be degraded like this?" Cillian asked, "Huh? I cannot fathom such a beautiful girl like you to be beaten down like this. You are not a failure, Tessa. I can help you with this, look I can make an exception and give you until the end of this week to do the assignment. I've spoken to the board and I truly believe you are capable of so much." His voice lowered and he was gentler on her now.

Tessa frowned and looked away, clenching and releasing her hands in her lap. Cillian knelt before her now, his expression placid, "I want to know what I did to make you act like this." Cillian slipped his hand in hers.

She bit her lip and pulled her hand back, "I thank you for giving me an extra week. I will make you proud." She stood suddenly and he stood too.

"You already do, Tess. With your weekly work and good attention during class and moderate activeness to class, the discussion is wonderful. I can't ask you to do anymore. So please, tell me what have I done? Did I do something?"

Tessa wanted to tell him how angry she was that he was doing Sofia as she glared at him, "Why do you care?" She asked instead.

"I care-" He was at a loss for words, "I-" His brows furrowed as he looked at her. "It's because-"

The words fell out of her before she could bite them back, "Because you're fucking someone else."

Cillian stepped back as if the words slapped him, "What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Whispers tell me." Of course, Sofia wasn't in all her classes but the other girls were and she had caught a whiff of it today. And the fact she saw it unfold before her in that classroom to told her as much.

He shook his head, "Rumours are dangerous Tess-"

"I saw it." She said with a dead look, her tone matching it.

"S-Saw it?" Cillian whispered, "You must be mistaken. I am not like that, Tessa."

"I like it when you take me hard," Tessa did her best impression of Sofia and Cillian seemed to lose colour to his face. "Didn't actually see it but I heard it. Walked by the classroom and heard it all." She held his gaze.

Cillian tried to recover and shot back, "And why do you care? Is this what you are mad about?"

She scrunched up her nose, "No, gross. Why would I be jealous of some fake bitch? At least I got some real shit and not some plastic crap shoved into my body." She rolled her eyes. "You do whoever you like, Cillian. You like em with some balls to them. Plastic ones, it seems." She picked up her bag, "Anyway. Not my problem." Hurt was coursing through her and all she wanted was him for herself. "I'll get the assignment done-" She was pinned against the wall beside the door and Cillian was extremely close to her face.

"It is your problem because you don't like who I fuck." He growled, his lips mere inches from hers.

"It is not, you dumbass. Why should I care? I don't own you." She bit back.

"It is. I know you want me. You think I'm blind to your gaze? I can see it right now you want me. I will admit I want you to, I don't want Sofia. I never did." His hands moved from her shoulders to her waist and he closed that gap between their bodies as their hips came together.

She felt a hard push against her crotch and bit back a moan, "Then why do you hurt me like this? Why must you fuck her?" She whispered as she gripped his arms.

"Because I-I wanted you so badly that I couldn't get you out of my head. All I could think is about you." He pressed his forehead to hers. Her heart fluttered at the words and the truth he spoke so clearly. "I used her to get you out of my head cause I did not wish to hurt you if things went wayward with us. But God... I'm an idiot. I should've... Approached you or said something. It might've ruined our relationship if you denied me but God... I should've taken that chance." He whispered intimately to her.

She was feeling all sort of things, a slam of emotions rolling through her and she leaned forward and kissed him softly. She felt his hesitation and pulled back, looking at him. "I- Forgive me-"

His lips came crashing back down on hers and they kissed hard and desperate. It was messy as teeth and tongues clashed, her fingers diving into his hair as his arms locked around her body and there was no room between them. She felt her leg being lifted and held to his waist, and she felt his driving hips into hers and the promise of something that leads to no clothing. She let out a moan as his hand came up to fondle her breast as his head dipped to her neck again and his mouth leaving a trail of heated kisses to her flushed skin. He then pulled out that mesh top and pulled it over her head and threw it aside alongside his jumper. He watched how Tessa worked to undo his tie and then unbutton his shirt.

Yes, He thought. He would finally claim her, have her perfect body under his. He chuckled when she pushed open his shirt and leaned in kissing his neck and down to his chest, her fingers brushing along his slides to the belt buckle of his pants. He let out a soft moan when she gave his nipple a teasing suck and came back to his lips.

"Like that?" She murmured and kissed him.

"Mhm." He pushed her back against the wall and saw the excitement in her eyes. "You like to be dominated?"

"I do. I'm your little pet to play with." She licked her lips as he attacked her neck again and kissed down to the neckline of the bodysuit she wore.

"My pet." He murmured with a smirk, "I like that. And what name would you call me?" He pulled down the thin shoulder straps and the neckline under her perfect breasts. They were absolutely perfect, bigger than a handful. Much bigger. But at least they were real.

Tessa loved that heated gaze on her bare chest, and she arched her back for him to really show off her assets. "Like what you see, sir?" She bit her bottom lip feeling his hands rest on her waist and slowly move up to just under her arms and move across to cover her breasts. She let out a soft moan.

"I love it." He rasped, "Love these nipple piercings. What if I did this..." He grabbed one and tugged on it.

Tessa covered her mouth and let out a soft whimper, her hips snapping forward. "Ah!"

"Ah, sensitive. Perfect." He leaned in and began to suck on one, rolling it over his tongue and teeth as he let his hand slide down the flat surface of her stomach and force its way between her jeans and her body. He felt her soaking core and her body trembled-

"Mr Murphy! I need to have a chat with you about one of the assignments you have marked. It concerns me." A woman called from the door as she knocked.

Cillian let out a soft curse, "Uhm... Okay. Give me a moment. Just with a student." He called out as he pulled his hand out-

Tessa gripped it and pushed it back in, "Touch me. Just for a quick moment." She whispered and began to rock her hips, needing to cum so badly from all the touching and kissing he gave her.

"I can't- Oh god." He mouthed and had her back against the wall and fingered her clit fast, feeling her grip on his shoulders tightened.

"Mr Murphy, how long?" The woman seemed impatient.

"One minute! Please." He replied as he pushed two fingers into Tessa, now fingering her fast and hard as her body rocked and trembled, he could feel how tight her walls were. She was so close.

"I am on a tight schedule, Mr Murphy." The woman urged just as Tessa made an 'O' face and let out soft delicate whimpers against his shoulder as she released over his hand. He stayed like that for a moment before he had to pull away. He looked at his fingers and his cock hardened before his eyes widened... He had come as well with her. He felt the wetness at his jeans and they both glanced down.

Tessa giggled and took his hand, cleaning his fingers by sucking on them and used her tongue. She stepped back and fixed her bodysuit as he shrugged on his jumper as he had no time when the door opened.

He had just thrown his shirt over the table as he made his way back to the chair to sit when the door swung opened, the female teacher glanced at the pair, "Sorry to intrude so rudely but this is of concern."

Tessa smiled as she slung her bag over her back, clutching her coat with her sparkly shirt underneath it, "That is okay. We are done here for today." She said.

"No worries. I just want to remind you of uhm... Your lipstick is... All over the place." When the woman had her eyes on Tessa, Cillian had ducked his head behind the desk to clean off his lips with a handy wet wipe he had and his neck before he sat up.

"I got some wet wipes." He offered a packet to Tessa.

"Thanks." Tessa smiled and took one, meeting his eyes and gave him a wink and mouthed, 'This isn't over yet' before she wiped her lips carefully.

"Poor girl, you didn't offer her earlier?" The woman scoffed as Tessa left them, shutting the door behind her. Once she was in the elevator, out of the Uni and in her car she sat there for a good moment. Eyes shut and just... Coming down from all of that happened in the office of her damn drama teacher. Was this just another one of her hot dreams? She reached between her legs and pulled her hand out. Wet as fuck. Not dreaming. He had made her cum for real. She licked them clean as she pulled on her sparkly top and her coat as she was cold but still felt hot in certain areas.

Cillian made her cum.

For real.

He kissed her, touched her breasts, fingered her...

Holy fuck.

She felt her phone ring and she jumped from her occupied thoughts. It was Elijah when she picked up. Fuck. And yet... She felt no guilt as she organised a movie night for tonight at her place. No guilt when she promised him an exciting night. And definitely, no guilt when she met him, kissed him and let him fuck her body when they got bored with the movie they watched in her room.

What the fuck has she gotten herself into?

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #teacher x student #fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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tarysande · 5 years

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Hello, I love your lucifer thoughts, and if you want to write it I would love to now your thoughts on lucifer using names/nicknames

I’ve thought about this a lot. I even touched on my personal headcanon about it in the last chapter of Taking the Fall :)

Obviously, Lucifer uses nicknames or alternative names a lot. I think he says the word “Chloe” less than a dozen times across three seasons, while he uses “Detective” or “the Detective” hundreds. She’s even saved as “the Detective” in his phone.

So, let’s start at the beginning. (In the beginning...) The show has drawn from many sources to construct Lucifer Morningstar as we know him. Obviously, we’ve got the comics. Personally, I see a bit more of Neil Gaiman’s Lucifer than Mike Carey’s (and, to be completely honest, I feel like a bit of Gaiman’s Crowley may be mixed in there as well). In Carey’s comics, Lucifer is much more able to think in the Very Long Term, for example, and is essentially always acting on a Plan of his own (which creates a neat parallel between God and Lucifer, but I digress). Gaiman’s Lucifer is the one who is Done with Hell and basically hands over the keys; he’s also the one who cuts off his wings; he’s the one who speaks the great lines the show used to such effect--about not being responsible for humanity’s sins and disliking that he’s blamed for things he’s not responsible for. He’s also the one who retires to LA, starts a nightclub called Lux, and really has a thing for sunsets. Gaiman was also the one who established that Lucifer was once called Samael. Gaiman’s Lucifer is heavily influenced by Milton’s Paradise Lost iteration of Lucifer (he of “It’s better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven” fame; Milton’s Lucifer gets all the best lines). He’s not distinctly (or solely) comprised of Christian or Jewish mythologies, though both influence the character.

In his short story, “Murder Mysteries,” (which features the same Lucifer he incorporated into the Sandman comics) Gaiman establishes at length how angels are named. First, they include “el”, which means, “of God.” The other part of their name indicates their purpose. Samael, depending on the translation, can mean venom, poison, or blindness of God. I don’t know about you, but if my name was Poison, I’d probably feel like I got the short end of the naming stick. This is contrasted, of course, by the same angel carrying the name (or perhaps title), Lucifer. When Gaiman introduces him, it’s by another character saying, “He was the Creator's finest creation: the angel Samael, called Lucifer. It means ‘the bringer of light.’ Of all the angels he was the wisest, the most beautiful, the most powerful. Saving only his Creator, he is, perhaps, the most powerful being there is.”

When Lucifer Fell, he abandoned the name Samael. He rejected it. Poison or not, he was no longer “of God.” Whether out of spite or anger or truth, Lucifer rejects the name his Father gave him in favor of the title. He identifies himself as Bringer of Light; this is the name he chooses. In the show, we witness Lucifer’s reaction to Samael when Linda speaks it. It angers him. Upsets him. After all this time, he is not indifferent to it. And though he claims not to care about many things related to his past, the name is very obviously a match to very dry tinder.

Names, to Lucifer, mean something beyond just monikers to identify one individual instead of another. Names having power is pretty common in mythology. The show also indicates that angels, specifically, can be summoned by prayer--presumably invoking their names with intention; Lucifer summons both Amenadiel and Uriel this way. It’s unknown whether Lucifer can still be summoned (or hear) prayers. It’s also unknown whether that prayer would have to be directed at his of-God angel name; still, I think there are many reasons why Lucifer holds names at arm’s length.

Names are also intimate; knowing them and using them can indicate deeper relationships, connections. Even with all the growth we’ve seen in Lucifer, he is still leery (if not afraid, though he’d never put it that way) of intimacy, friendship, connection. Lucifer has, for almost the entirety of his existence, been alone. Even when he wasn’t physically alone, his relationships have been marked by power imbalances. In Heaven, he was “of God”--created for a purpose and pretty unrepentantly “part of God’s plan.” In Hell, he was Lord and Master; Maze is/was the closest thing he had to a friend, and we continue to see how unbalanced that relationship was. You can’t truly be friends with someone when you see them as an underling, an employee, as belonging to you in a manner that implies use.

This question of usefulness is a huge one, and probably deserving of its own meta, but since it also comes back to names, I’ll touch on it quickly: Again, from the beginning of his existence, Lucifer has existed to be of use--first, as God’s brightest angel; then, as Lord of Hell. This notion of usefulness as balance or quid pro quo is woven so intrinsically into Lucifer’s understanding of himself that it very nearly becomes his definition. Balance, justice, an eye for an eye--all of these things are irrevocably part of the fabric of Lucifer. When he desires something, he doesn’t just take; he trades. To be certain the trade is equal, he asks what the subject of his desire desires, essentially asking, “What can I give you that’s equal to what I wish to take from you?” It’s also the basis of his favors: “If I do this for you, you owe me in equal measure; this is non-negotiable.”

Because Samael was, in his mind, treated unfairly, Lucifer (light-bringer meaning both physical light and the light of truth) has unbreakable codes of fairness. They may not always look like a human understanding of fairness, but Lucifer’s internal morality (ironically) is pretty sacrosanct. Essentially, he may be judge and jury and punisher, but he does make sure the trial is fair. In Sandman, Hell builds itself around Lucifer. This may not be explicitly stated on the show, but the notion of hell-loops and guilt and punishment equaling the crime are all very Luciferian. Did Hell alter itself to suit his sense of justice? Or did Hell’s justice affect Lucifer? (Given that we do know at least a little about pre-Hell Samael/Lucifer, I think it’s more the former.)

So, nicknames. Lucifer uses positive nicknames and negative ones. The tone is important. Brother can be scornful, angry, frustrated, almost spiteful. And sometimes, especially as Lucifer and Amenadiel’s relationship changes over time, it can be genuine and even grateful. Brother/sister/Mum are actually really important, I think. These are family relationships that have been all but severed for an unfathomable amount of time, but Lucifer still uses them (and not always sarcastically or with derision). Tellingly, his family still uses brother/son with him, as well. Lucifer still wants connection, but he no longer trusts it; it can be taken from him. Using nicknames/epithets is a way to keep people at a distance--he makes them their job, their position (the Detective, obviously, but also Dr. Linda); in some cases, he keeps things formal (Ms. Lopez); in others, the nickname is openly scornful (Detective Douche; sneering Cain--the secret name; the murderer’s name--instead of using Pierce).

Lucifer diminutizes names when he’s lording over people or displaying superiority (Pierce becomes Piercy; Reece becomes Reecy. Reece actually has a bunch of nicknames, and you can always tell how Lucifer feels about the guy at any given moment based on how he refers to him). He calls criminals by their crimes (“Hello, murderer.”), relegating them to their crimes, their sins, their actions, and taking away the humanity of a name full-stop. Sometimes Lucifer’s nicknames are tools, sometimes they’re weapons; I think sometimes they’re even gifts, or at least an attempt to create a connection even though the most intimate or closest avenue (just using their name) is still too much for him (Dr. Linda is not the very formal Dr. Martin; Ms. Lopez is very occasionally ‘dear Ella’; he uses darling, love, lovely a lot--mostly positive, but again, tone is a factor. I’d hate to be on the wrong end of a scornful or hateful darling).

Also related to power/superiority is his insistence that people use his name--the name he chose, that he adopted. Ella swiftly changes Luce to Lucifer. Similarly, he is very open about the identity he adopted--the Devil. When things arise to question that identity or poke at it too hard, he becomes unsettled, even untethered. The wings/devil face of S3 was all about this notion of forced rather than chosen identity (at least as he saw it).

Though he is initially scornful, however, he does let his family use nicknames--again, I think that’s part of some long-buried part of him that wants to belong but just does not want to belong as Samael (that is, on his father’s terms). So, Amenadiel calls him Luci. Azrael calls him Lu. Neither gets the violent, visceral response of Linda’s Samael.

Obviously, a whole separate essay could be written on Lucifer’s use (and not use) of Chloe/the Detective. He uses her name when he’s at his most desperate and his happiest. He uses her name, in short, when he’s at his most vulnerable. Sometimes, he’s accepting of this vulnerability (when he’s praying to his father) and sometimes, I don’t think he realizes how vulnerable he is (when he’s just announced to Maze and Mum that he and Chloe are real). In essence, he treats her name as something near-holy, almost sacred. She holds power over him, whether he’s conscious of it or not; her immunity to his power is part of it--she is, in essence, unknowable because he cannot fall back on the familiar to understand her. His feelings for her, obviously, are another part of it; this is a very particular and uncomfortable kind of vulnerability that he both craves and is terrified of (caring about something that much means it can hurt you, and the last time he cared, he was hurt beyond all belief--and certainly, in his mind, in a manner committed the unforgivable crime of being unjust).

So, after all this discussion, I think the takeaway is that Lucifer uses nicknames as weapons to wield or consolidate power, shields to keep himself at a distance and defend himself from hurt, jokes to deflect, arrows to wound (and, ironically, usually those harsh nicknames are poison-tipped). And all of this is rooted in his own very complicated history with names--and with how names have been used to influence him or inflict pain, especially concerning power/powerlessness, control, and choice.

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer meta #lucifer thoughts #lucifer analysis #asks and answers #Anonymous #long text post #if brevity is the soul of wit i'm doomed #i could've gone on for fifty more pages

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terulakimban · 4 years

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Hi! So I saw your response on ask jumblr saying you were agnostic and everything and I found them super super interesting and was wondering if you could explain a bit more of how it’s been for you in a Jewish setting? Thank you 🌸💗🌸

Hi! So, for context, framework on what exactly I do believe (and what I don’t), because by some definitions, I’m an atheist, by others, I’m theistic, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m agnostic. I believe that there are rules and patterns inherent to reality; that there is order even within chaos; that human ignorance of those rules and patterns does not change their existence. I believe that to attempt to discern these patterns is, for lack of a better word, holy, that learning more about what the universe is and has and does and what we can make it do is inherently an approach to the divine. I believe that there is beauty in the world and that that beauty is subjective. When I say the blessings for a rainbow or a thunderstorm or for seeing the ocean, I say them in awe of what an amazing world we live in; our world is such a vast and strange and unfathomable place and it is only a tiny speck of nothing in the infinity of the universe and that I am so lucky to live in a time where people are beginning to head towards taking a leap to the next speck of dust. I believe that precision of mathematical patterns is beautiful, even when I don’t know the math causing the pattern. I believe that the chaos where there is an apparent lack of a pattern is beautiful because it reminds us of how much we’ve learned and how there is infinitely more still to learn. I believe that there are universal -or near-universal truths -but I also believe that those truths are more along the lines of “2+2=4″ than “God, created, in the beginning...” I do not believe in a personified creator who caused all of that. I do not believe in the Torah as divinely written or as a literal verbatim truth. I don’t know if I believe the Torah was divinely inspired or not or even what such inspiration -or an absence of it- would necessarily entail. I don’t believe there is a one true way. I don’t believe that justice or goodness or fairness are concepts that exist outside of the minds capable of conceptualizing them, but I do believe that they are important concepts -as is the variation people will necessarily have when trying to articulate exactly what those concepts are to them. I don’t believe in any form of afterlife. I also don’t disbelieve in any form of afterlife. I have one finite existence in which to live; I will focus whatever time I have on the practical effects I can have on the world around me and infinity, be it reward or punishment or neutrality or nothing at all, can take care of itself; I’ll have infinity to be concerned -or not -with that. In my experience, this isn’t particularly unusual in Jewish spaces. It does help that I have no issues addressing a communal conceptualization of what an infinite creator might entail, although admittedly, when praying communally, my approach tends to be either a focus on feeling what it is to be welcome and feel at home among people that has fuck-all to do with God in any way or along the lines of “start explaining unfairness and broken promises now”. As for practice... my mother grew up on the liberal end of the Orthodox movement and I grew up on the conservative end of the Conservative movement. Dad grew up on the liberal end of the Conservative side, but that was a fairly recent shift in his family; his parents grew up in traditional homes and have a frame of reference for it. And when it comes to practice, I tend to feel most comfortable in something relatively familiar, although I tend to go for more traditional practice as an individual and more liberal practice in a community. I like studying Talmud and the Tosafot. There is something incredibly comforting about seeing a verse and saying “hey, what the fuck is up with that” and then seeing that my people -my family -have been arguing that exact same question for thousands of years. I like keeping kosher. I’ve got OCD, and it serves as a wonderful externalization of the kind of rules I otherwise make for myself -except these rules come with built-in endpoints so I can’t get stuck in painful loops and there are people outside my brain who understand them. I’m not shomer shabbat at this point in my life for a number of reasons mostly outside my control, but I would like to go back to having a day dedicated to rest and mindfulness and not laboring, although my ideal level of shabbat observance is decidedly not “officially shomer”. I like looking at my parents’ ketubah -at the contract they signed before witnesses of the obligations to one another that they were choosing to take on and the consequences if they didn’t -and dreaming about someday having my own; about someday loving someone enough and having someone who loves me enough to say “yes, these are our oaths”. I like that I can walk into any synagogue anywhere in the world and have family and community and a frame of reference for what’s going on. I like that I was raised in between communities in such a way that I know the rules and how to pick up on them for communities I don’t know. I like singing together with people and that sense of the past and present connecting when the words are ancient and the tune is not. I love learning to leyn and comparative linguistics and looking at the words. I love working with kids and being able to say “this is your heritage, these words belong to you, but it’s your choice what you do with them, my job is just to make sure you know what the words mean.” I love (pre-pandemic, of course) the way my parents’ synagogue does a communal meal every week at the close of Shabbat -and then does a communal Talmud study and commentary -and I love being encouraged to raise my voice and ask questions and make comments and offer ideas. I love Havadalah and Kabbalat Shabbat and how we mark holidays and transitions in fire and how we use fire and stone to memorialize our dead. I love being able to say “here is my tradition, can you show me yours” to friends who aren’t Jewish and sharing food and songs and opening our homes to one another And there’s stuff I don’t like. I don’t like the way liberal communities tend to treat traditional practice as the exclusive provenance of Orthodoxy. I don’t like when I’m not counted in a minyan. I don’t like being seated across a mechitzah. I don’t like the way that, for all our communities are family, there’s often an element of hostility towards the other denominations. I’m not a fan of taharat mishpacha in its entirety -or tzniut, for that matter. I don’t like Ashkenormativity and the way we’re mostly letting what’s left of our older community languages die in favor of Hebrew. I don’t like when people insist that Halacha is inherently divine -and I don’t like when people insist that it should all be discarded. But all of that, all those things I dislike? None of those -or at least, none of the parts I specifically dislike about them -are, by my understanding, inherent to Judaism. Those are things inherent to people -and to communities. People like the dichotomy of “anyone more [thing] than me is a fanatic and anyone less [thing] than me doesn’t actually care about it”. Whenever there’s a community and an opportunity for some people to use it to reinforce a social dynamic that they see as favoring them, there will always be people who do so. There will always be people disagreeing on what they find empowering vs oppressive. There will always be a struggle between tradition for tradition’s sake and progress for progress’s sake. I have clarified that I’m agnostic to my parents. Dad’s response was “yeah, I guess a lot of people in your generation don’t really need God, do you...” (tone was sincere and contemplative; he’s genuinely interested in the millennial zeitgeist, and it’s led to multiple conversations about generational theology). Mom’s response was “🤷‍♀️ That’s between you and God, now did you want a roast for shabbos or not because I need to take it out to defrost” (she is not particularly interested in discussions of theology or philosophy with me, but we do talk about practice a lot).

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strandedhaze · 4 years

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ONE : MEET TYLER

FULL NAME: tyler alexander walford. PREFERRED NAME: tyler. NICKNAME(S): ty. DATE OF BIRTH: august 19th, 1998. GENDER: cis male. PREFERRED PRONOUNS: he/him/his. ORIENTATION: heterosexual. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single in main verse. RELIGION: christian. OCCUPATION: footballer, a left-back for lafc. CURRENT RESIDENCE: los angeles, california ; he resides in a house in hollywood hills.

TWO : TYLER’S BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: manchester, england. NATIONALITY: english. ETHNIC BACKGROUND: british. LINGUISTICS: english is his native language but he can also speak dutch and spanish fluently. EDUCATION: he graduated high-school. CRIMINAL RECORD: clean. BIRTH ORDER: second. FATHER: dave walford was born on december 26th, 1976 in manchester, england. he is a former professional sprinter and olympics athlete, who currently works with manchester united and who resides in manchester. MOTHER: suzanne marie walford (née dawson) was born on december 8th, 1977 in liverpool, england. she is an accountant and resides in manchester, england. SISTER(S): none. BROTHER(S): marcus john walford was born on january 4th, 1993 in manchester, england. he is tyler’s manager and resides in new york city, new york. OTHER RELEVANT FAMILY: lotte walford (née janssen), sister-in-law; solange walford, niece; benjamin walford and dev walford; nephews. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: tyler is single. CHILDREN: none so far. FRIENDS: tbd. EXES: roos dekker and stella jones. PETS: none so far.

THREE : GET UP CLOSE & PERSONAL

HEIGHT: 5′11″ ( 181 cm ). WEIGHT: his weight oscillates between 160 lbs ( 72.5 kg ) 165 lbs ( 75 kg ). BODY TYPE AND BUILD: he used to be rather lean, almost lanky in a way, but in the transition between nyfc and lafc, tyler managed to put on some weight and build up his body through workout + diet. so whereas he’s naturally slim, he now has more of an athletic build with muscular arms and an overall toned body. EYE COLOR: deep brown. EYESIGHT: he has perfect eyesight. HAIR COLOR: brown. HAIR STYLE: he doesn’t bother much with his hair style, in all fairness. the most he does is get a trim here and there, and sometimes if he’s feeling do a fade-cut, maybe go for a shorter length than regular but even so, he always sticks to wearing his hair as it naturally is. DOMINANT HAND: right. NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: his smile is undoubtedly his most notable feature, his full, often described as pouty, lips probably a close second. other than that, his overall physique. ever since he’s managed to build up his body, it has clearly become a subject of attention. SCARS AND MARKS: it comes with the career and the job. he has scars from surgery but also from training and official games, as well as the occasional every day life ones. same goes for marks. even so, there’s nothing particularly noticeable. TATTOOS: none so far. PIERCINGS: none. VOICECLAIM: trent alexander-arnold. ACCENT AND INTENSITY: despite having lived four years in amsterdam, and having gone from seattle to new york to los angeles, his accent remains the same. you can tell every time he goes home, as he returns with an even more intense scouse accent. yes, he is from manchester so the most natural thing would be for him to pick up the mancunian accent, however given his mother (and respective family) was the one who was around the most when he was growing up, tyler has picked up her accent. it’s the same for his brother. ALLERGIES: dairy and mushrooms. PHOBIAS AND FEARS: he’s not claustrophobic but he gets a little paranoid when in very tight and very small spaces. MENTAL ILLNESSES: none so far. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES: none so far. SCENT THEY WEAR: neroli portofino by tom ford all year round, probably his fave scent. for nights out, sauvage by dior and on special occasions, bleu de chanel. he does the occasional mix, acqua di gio by giorgio armani always being the base and then something different to change it up. ALCOHOL USE: socially, he does. SMOKING: he doesn’t smoke. OTHER NARCOTICS USE: no. INDULGENT FOOD: rarely. he’s not one to indulge in food, truly, he prefers sticking to a healthy relationship with it and opting for foods he knows his body will be happy with, so to say. SPLURGE SPENDING: he can go a little bit crazy with his nephews but otherwise, he’s a responsible spender. he knows his limits and what he can and can’t spend. not to mention he’s the son of an accountant, so he’s been raised to be very mindful and responsible about his money and assets. GAMBLING: no. ADDICTIONS AND VICES: none.

FOUR : DIG DEEPER

CAN THEY DRIVE? yes. CAN THEY COOK AND BAKE? yes and no. CAN THEY CHANGE A FLAT TIRE? yes. CAN THEY TIE A TIE? yes. CAN THEY SWIM? yes. CAN THEY RIDE A BICYCLE? yes. CAN THEY JUMP START A CAR? no. CAN THEY BRAID HAIR? yes. CAN THEY PICK A LOCK? yes. EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED? extroverted. DISORGANIZED OR ORGANIZED? a healthy in-between. CLOSE OR OPEN MINDED? open minded. CALM OR ANXIOUS? calm. PATIENT OR IMPATIENT? patient. OUTSPOKEN OR RESERVED? outspoken all through and through. LEADER OR FOLLOWER? leader. OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC? he’s a realist, you won’t find him sugarcoating anything and you won’t find him downputting herself either. TRADITIONAL OR MODERN? modern. HARD-WORKING OR LAZY? hard-working. CULTURED OR UNCULTURED? cultured. LOYAL OR DISLOYAL? loyal. FAITHFUL OR UNFAITHFUL? faithful. NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD? early bird. HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER? heavy sleeper. COFFEE OR TEA? coffee. DAY OR NIGHT? night. TAKING BATHS OR SHOWERS? showers. COCA COLA OR PEPSI? coca cola, if he has to choose. CATS OR DOGS? dogs. NETFLIX OR CINEMA? (home) cinema. SHOWS OR MOVIES? movies. LAPTOP OR GAMING CONSOLE? gaming console. HEALTHY OR JUNK FOOD? healthy. ICE CREAM OR FROZEN YOGURT? ice cream. PIZZA OR HAMBURGER? pizza. LOLLIPOPS OR GUMMY WORMS? neither, he doesn’t like sweets. BEACH OR POOL? beach. SNOWBALLS FIGHTING OR ICESKATING? snowballs fighting. LITERATURE OR SCIENCE? literature. HISTORY OR ART? art. CHOCOLATE BARS OR COTTON CANDY? same as above, neither. XBOX OR PLAYSTATION? playstation. FACE-TO-FACE OR PHONE INTERACTIONS? face-to-face interactions. DRAMA OR SCI-FI? sci-fi. HORROR OR COMEDY? both.

FIVE : TYLER’S LIKES & DISLIKES

FAVORITE ACTIVITY: training and playing football FAVORITE ANIMAL: puma. FAVORITE BOOK: he doesn’t have one so far. FAVORITE QUOTE: ❝ i’ve failed over and over again in my life. and that’s why i succeed. ❞ — michael jordan. FAVORITE COLOR(S): red. FAVORITE DESIGNER: he has a couple he enjoys, none that he favors personally though. FAVORITE CUISINE: he likes mediterranean cuisine a little bit more than others but he’s a person of experiences and who enjoys tasting and playing so there isn’t an exact fave. FAVORITE DISH(ES): he really likes shepherd’s pie and sunday roasts, not even because of the dishes itself but because they remind him of home, and he also really enjoys mediterranean bowls and seafood paella. FAVORITE DRINK: he likes a good gin, on the rare, mostly during off-season. FAVORITE FLOWER(S): black orchids. FAVORITE GEM: ruby. FAVORITE HOLIDAY: christmas. FAVORITE MOVIE: ali, probably is one of his all time faves. he really likes documentaries too, especially surrounding stuff he loves, his favorites as of now might as well be what’s my name - muhammad ali (he’s a major fan) and make us dream. FAVORITE MUSIC GENRE: hip hop and r&b. FAVORITE SONG(S): mile high by james black ft. travis scott. GO TO KARAOKE SONG: HYFR by drake ft lil wayne. FAVORITE SCENT(S): fresh coffee, the scent of freshly baked, straight out the oven cakes, musk. FAVORITE TELEVISION SHOW(S): he has a hard time keeping up with shows, truth be told. FAVORITE SPORTS: football and basketball, though he’s a massive sports fan in general. SPORTS TEAM THEY SUPPORT: liverpool fc (though he keeps that one dear to his heart and not many know about it — his dad included), la lakers though there are a few basketball teams he appreciates. FAVORITE EMOJI: 🙄 — maybe? FAVORITE WEATHER: he's an england boy so naturally, he’s a big fan of the opposite weather he grew up in. he’s also a summer baby so sunshine and warm days all through and through. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR: summer. FAVORITE PLACE(S): rhodes, greece — ever since he turned ten, his parents made it a point to go there every year as a family and though the tradition fell through when marcus married and tyler moved to america, it’s still a place of fond memories and where ty really feels at peace and at ease. SUPERPOWER THEY WISH THEY HAD: invisibility. VACATION DESTINATION: there’s a few places he enjoys, he REALLY loves anything more on the calmer, beachier side.

#° ❁. — tyler ╱ defined. ❜

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iisabclla-blog · 5 years

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queen isabella maria of france ! ﹙ a bed untouched and blankets on the windowseat, immaculate hair and porcelain skin, what have i done, what have i done? an untouched plate and an empty wine glass, books piled up on an unused bedside table, a plate of cherries, if only i had died too a worn bible with a small length of ribbon sewn into the cover, candles burned to quick, crescent-moon shaped cuts on the inside of a soft palm, black kirtle, black shawl, everything black ﹚

hi all !! sorry this is so loooong, i’m big into character development so once i got started i couldn’t stop ! i’m enna, i’m 21 and from pst. my pronouns are she/her !!

i have discord, so hmu if you want to contact me there, and if i’m online, i’m always available thru ims !! i’ve played isabella before a few times and she’s the angry-sad love of my life so i’m thrilled to bring her here !!

feel free to like this to plot. there are connection ideas at the bottom so please take a look and see if anything fits your muse and it might help us brainstorm something fun!

ⅰ. — statistics & appearance.

𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 — isabella maria

𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎 — queen of france

𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 — trastámara of spain

𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 — bella, but only by her favorite lady’s maid and closest friend

𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 — devoted to god

𝚊𝚐𝚎 / 𝚍𝚘𝚋 — twenty seven, born 23rd may

𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 — spanish

𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 — bisexual ; she’s aware of and has acted on her attraction to women in the past. although it is, naturally, a secret, she is not ashamed of her love for other women.

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 — female

𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜 — she/her

𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 — 5′4

𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚘𝚗 — her skin is soft, warm and blemish-free, a necessity in her station. she likes to keep her skin clean of any marks and pale, like a doll. she augments the warmth and softness of her features with sharp, simple jewelry & wardrobe choices, although notably she does not display her wealth through jewelry, and instead chooses simple and elegant designs over heavy and ornate

𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 — she’s small and well-built, not skinny, but soft and with a certain amount of roundness to her. she has the typical feminine shape and a bit around her tummy, thighs, and arms

𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 — her voice is lovely and her accent is chocolatey, carefully schooled to be soft and convincing; when she’s angry, her voice becomes much louder and less delicate, slipping further into her accent

𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜 — she carries herself like her station, with an air of superiority: her chin is always held high and her neck long, her whole posture ramrod straight; she rarely smiles without coaxing these days, but when she does it’s usually warm and surprised, like she’s forgotten that she knows how to do that

ⅱ. — personality.

tw / miscarriage, depression, mentions of suicide

𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍 — as a young girl, isabella was a more naive and patient thing. her family ties were strong, and her loyalty to her father & later her brothers was as unwavering as the moon’s rise and fall. she was raised a perfect princess ; educated, crisp, pious and penitent, faithful to the last and hopeful for the future.

𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 — after having lost all of her children thus far, isabella’s disposition has hardened, and her love and loyalty has started to chip away. she still acts a quiet, faithful and penitent wife, sewing her husband’s shirts and spending an hour or two in the chapel a day. beneath it all, however, is a boiling rage, born of shame, injustice and sadness that she cannot tame.

𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 — were she a more modern woman, she would hunt for sport and retire to a country house. the business of being queen sits heavily on her shoulders. suffering from depression and often times a passive narrative that her life has been wasted and will continue to be wasted, isabella is about as unhappy as any queen has a right to be. she bears it quietly and acts the part of pretty, perfect wife, although nearing closer and closer to her limit.

𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 — although she was perhaps spoiled and too young when crowned, isabella has become known as a thoughtful, keen-witted and fair queen. remarkably thoughtful, every action and position she takes is well-informed and thought through; she is known for heeding evidence and admitting when she’s wrong. her favorite subjects to learn about are history and economy, and as such she’s done good things for trade and public infrastructure, making her relatively popular with the smaller towns and common people benefiting from her strategic work. she has come to love france, although she does not love governing, and consider its people hers.

𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏 — although a haughty and strict mistress, isabella finds herself more and more drawn to common folk. it seems the servants are the only folk that show her empathy within the french borders.

𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢 — depending on the person, isabella ranges from curtly polite to quietly warm ; she does not particularly enjoy french court, but she’s always polite and graceful. there can be no rest for her; although her home and a country she’s deeply proud of, france feels not unlike a claw trap closed tight around her ankle.

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜 — choleric, intelligent, bold, vindictive, poised, restless, fierce

𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚗 — she no longer believes in god. her prayer is show, her piety is act, and if she did believe, the things she’d pray for would be any manner of blasphemy, treason and regicide.

ⅲ. — brief backstory.

— will be updated and changed with plotting and development; relationships with family and french royalty are purposefully left vague until plotted — tw / miscarriage, depression, mentions of suicide

born the middle princess and good for little but bargaining, isabella was spoiled and coddled by her governess from a young age. education, hope and foolish naïveté let her believe the future was wide and wild, that her betrothal was a thing she could become accustomed to, that her father could do no wrong, and that her brothers were blessed by the sun itself. she was looking forward to a life atop a throne with an endless library, travelling and dancing.. and children. happiness. old age and grandeur.

married life quickly disabused her of these childish notions. though she is its queen, she often feels trapped and cornered by france, by her marriage and her duty, willing her body through hatred and shame to do its damn job and provide one squealing shouting babe so she could point to it and say see, i am worth something, i am a princess of spain and i cannot be made less than i am — but an heir never came, and happiness never followed, and the years have made a bitter, hollow woman of one that was once bright and playful.

though miserable and often times wishing for a grave alongside her buried children, she forces herself to persevere through spite alone; she can think of many worthy things to fall to, but a failed marriage and shame are not worthy things to die over. instead she cultivates the anger over the sadness and tries as hard as she can to put herself back together in the wake of her collection of small tragedies.

her only solace is the repeated hope that one day she will be allowed a child she can keep and hold, the stories and poetry she finds among the pages and pages of the french library, and the art and music that calls france home as much as she has to. she keeps tokens of her lost children, even ones she knew for weeks alone. a small ribbon on her bible for the babe she birthed, and river stones for the ones she did not.

ⅳ. — connection ideas.

platonic —

closest friend, confidant ( future or current )

unlikely friendship ( preferably someone with an opposite personality )

earned trust & loyalty ( put some of that endless loyalty and hero worship she’s capable of to good use )

casual friendships, gossip partners, reading circle

political allies, spanish courtiers who she’s remained friends with, a younger noble/royal she’s vaguely maternal towards

negative —

hatred at first sight ( we all love drama )

enemy of france or spain, enemy of her brother or husband,

someone who’s been cruel to her ( french people who have been cruel to her )

someone who dislikes her backbone, rivals

almost lover turned sour

romantic —

formative young adult love ( can be m/f/nb, royalty or no, idc i just like angst )

forbidden temptation ( can be one-sided )

previous betrothals pre-marraige ( can ofc be negative and/or platonic )

an ex lady’s maid she was lowkey in love with

an ill-advised comfort hookup that she’s now avoiding

#thrones.intro #ⅲ. 𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖆 ♖﹙development.﹚#yikes this is.........long . i'll be around a lil longer if u wanna catch my discord and plot w me !

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unimpressedperson · 5 years

Text

akai-ito

(Found this cute picture in @btsreactionmemes. Thank you for posting it, sweetheart)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: None, I guess.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x @agustdlovcult, Min Yoongi x Reader

Word Counting: 7.8k

Synopsis: Jade always obsessed over stability, wondering about how her best friend, Jung Hoseok, could live wildly and moving from place to place, relationship to relationship constantly. Once the only thing she most valued was taken away, drinking a little seemed fair. Her choice made a new connection, an akai-ito. Yoongi and Jade had one thing in common uniting them.

A/N: Hey Jeeeeeeeeed! What's up? After weeks of waiting I finished it! Hope you enjoy it. The character itself isn’t a reflection of your personality, ‘cuz you are one of the best creatures I have ever met. It has a total of 7.824 words, but comparing to what you deserve, it’s nothing. Hey Jadie, I love you and hope you are feeling alright :) Sorry for the bad grammar, hope you enjoy it x

- x - x - x - x -

Jade was pissed off. Everything around couldn’t seem or sound more annoying, from footsteps, pigeons walking on the sidewalks (c’mon birds, what were your wings made for?), even the slightest signal of loud breathing could trigger the woman into punching someone. She marched across the streets, arms tight in front of her chest, pressing the thin white sweater firm against body. Her steps were noisy, white sneakers hitting the asfalt harshly and expressing how angry Jade was.

Her morning began normal. Alarm rang 7 a.m, waking Jade up to another day of working, seeing the same faces all over again, talking about repetitive subjects, as if her life was nothing but a clockwork, repeating day after day the same boring routine established by human biological needs supplied by money, which buys foods, snacks and pays for Netflix. Well, it also reimburse bills, rent and gas, but it’s always implicit anyways.

Usually, living the weekly cycle wouldn’t bother her. As long as that routine left her free from getting in debt, then no changes were necessary. Jade had been living like that for over five years now, why to change? Take the risk of becoming unhappy and indebted. Goosebumps would run up her spine whenever imagining such possibility.

Feeling safe and sound, Jade enjoyed that sensation. Whenever she drove her car, arrived at home and had dinner peacefully, any doubts or thoughts of quitting her 9 to 5 job would vanish. Pasta tastes better than starving. However, not everyone she knew lived like that, Hoseok was, quoting Jade’s own words, completely out of his mind, moving and crashing into a different home every month, coaching dance in several academies, but never establishing in one for longer than five groups of 30 days. His routine was so unsure and unpredictable.

Of course, Hoseok always had something new to tell. Everytime their group of mutual friends decided to reunite in a bar, the currently redheaded man would entertain everyone with a story about how he spent three nights sleeping on a janitor’s room, or how he convinced someone met on Tinder to let him live for a whole month into his house. The man had no boundaries or roots, anyone related to Hoseok would admire it, except for Jade. She always listened and judged his choices as something out of reality.

She never felt surprised by his wild, borderline insane, tales. They met young and even back in then, Hoseok was a gypsy and lived happily by not settling. Basically, according to Jung Hoseok himself, after watching his parents divorcing and having two different homes, not digging roots and always gaining for a period of time somewhere new to name as home, felt like relieve. Jade always offered to pay him some psychiatrist appointments, because not a single thing from his discourse sounded sane for her.

Who the heck would possibly feel constantly happy, mainly not knowing if there would be a roof above his head next morning? Her thoughts on Hoseok were so low, that after hearing he bragging about fucking with a girl only to sleep at her place, Jade lowered even more the standards for him.

However, that morning something happened, a situation which her mechanic had guaranteed wouldn’t happen so soon: the car broke. Something about a fan inside engines. She couldn’t rationalize what was happening with the automobile, not whilst trying to run and get a bus to downtown. By the way, not knowing the schedule to public transportation can kill any tight routine, and Jade found it out quite late, literally, her shift began at 9 a.m and by 8h45 a.m she was not even close to get there.

Working as a hospital receptionist, punctualism was a must, which was Jade’s forte. She hardly arrived late for any occasion, missing a day of work? Not even in her wildest dreams. Mainly in an important day, like when the boss scheduled to pay a visit and check if his investments were in good (read responsible) hands.

What were the odds? Murphy’s Laws are a bitch. Jade hated with all heart The Chaos Theory, mainly watching years of good work ruining in front of her eyes, as 9h45 approached and she was still seating still on one of the subway’s benches. Her receptionist co-worker texting and asking where the fuck she was, quit reading them after replying three and feeling desperation racing the heart, making it pound against her ribcage.

Every functioning speaker inside the wagon announced an emergency stop, ‘cuz apparently someone decided that rush hour was an appropriate moment to jump in the rail tracks. 10h12 a.m and the subway began moving again. Jade melting on her seat.

In the moment she arrived in her station, Jade jumped off the wagon and ran with every remained trace of oxygen. Driving a car, and counting on the traffic jam, she would have had arrived in 45 minutes, even with accidents and SNOW she never took over 2 hours to get at the hospital.

After sitting on her desk and gaining a very intimidating stare from the co-worker, Jade began turning the computer on and answering calls. She wanted to act as nothing odd have had happened, working hard to compensate the delay. Typing faster than ever, scheduling examinations and MRIs, some x-rays, also paying attention everyone arriving and asking for directions. Her determination was admirable, but things never were purely good, not in such a shitty day.

Between schedules and calls, Jade took a look on the Excel spreadsheet and the agenda she noticed a BIG FAT mistake. When arrived and desperately began working, she forgot to check which day was marked on the page she began typing the examinations and appointments, after two hours nonstop Jade realized that everything were written and scheduled for the day before. Conclusion: all the work worthed nothing and she spent her shift fixing everything.

The boss was nowhere near happy with all delay and asked Jade’s manager about her performance. It was no secret that Mindy disliked Jade, but no one would ever imagine the woman lying by criticizing nonexistent flaws, such as constant lateness and rudeness against patients, and about incompetence. Well, he took her dirty words for granted and didn’t even bother in asking for more than one opinion.

To put it shortly: Jade was no longer a St.Bartholomew's employee.

Jade left the building feeling anger consuming every pore and cell inside her body. Five years, not five months. FIVE FUCKING YEARS living, breathing, eating and existing around working for St.Bartholomew and suddenly a shitty day was enough to be kicked out, as if every extra shift and hard working, good execution and quick learning meant nothing.

Ok, maybe she wasn’t the best co-worker. Possibly a bit rude sometimes. Hardly joined everyone in get-togethers or lunches. Never contributed in paying birthday cakes (or joined the choir when Happy Birthday began), but at least Jade always replied the “good morning”, “good afternoon” and “good night” proffered to her. So what she barely answered texts? Or befriended almost no one, except for the security guard, from there? Not everyone is a social butterfly such as Hoseok, she had close friends and were glad with them.

Also, you don’t get a prize or ‘Best Co-worker Award’, but working hard would always turn into remunerated vacations. Who would even think that treating people with indifference can actually hurt them? What is she now? Dr.Phill? Oprah?

While furiously wandering around the avenue, Jade figured that a huge glass of Martini would help. No! Not a Martini, but a whole bottle of wine and Cup Noodles, watching thoroughly some high-quality Netflix content. Maybe inviting friends over? No, not friends, she wanted distance from humankind for a few hours.

- x - x - x - x -

Jade was walking to Walmart, when someone began calling her name. She searched for whoever that was (possibly wishing to punch that person), but got startled in the moment Shmailah appeared from inside the shoes store beside her, carrying a huge bag. They hugged and the conversation started, whilst looking for a bar or pub.

– What a shitty day, Jadie. - Shims said caressing her friend’s back, watching her swallow in one long sip a cup of vodka. - Let me pay your drink, you deserve some comfort now.

– I still have money, Shims. - Jade said and grinned, even wishing to sink down in a whole gallon of hard liquor. - But if you really want to pay me something, then next month you can take charge of a few bills.

– Don’t be silly, you’ll find another job like that. - The girl with dark hair and shiny eyes said, snapping fingers and smiling, sipping on her chocolate milkshake right after.

The music playing around them was calming, rhythm soothing and healing, if the words sang repeatedly weren’t so painful and sad, then the ambience would feel even romantic. Whoever were the responsible could fucking drown with Jade and her good mood, since she was feeling like a whole dumpster and the voice’s owner was probably someone quite sensitive.

– I’m going to punch that man singing. He is making me feel sad and lonely. - Jade said and took a short sip on the vodka. - Somehow his voice is making me want to start dating someone, only to break up and say those words along. Music is powerful, dude.

– He is also quite cute. - Shims uttered looking in the small and darkened stage, glaring at a small, skinny, black-haired, korean guy with noticeable cute cheeks, playing his guitar and singing with soul and body. - Ugh, whoever cheated on him probably didn’t see it coming. What a sad song.

– We are so much better. - The small korean guy sang, a deep voice astounding those who paid attention. - When we are, not together.

Jade looked back, trying not to fall from the chair and stared at where Shims was also looking. Indeed, he was cute, talented and kind of hot… Wait a second, Shmaillah never said anything about him being hot. Maybe Jade was already lightheaded, so brand new unannounced information popped up inside her head like internet pop-ups, or Youtube advertisements.

Employed Jade would never drink at 5 p.m and think dirty stuff about someone unknown at 6 p.m. What a turn of events in less than 24 hours, huh?

– Shims, can you please help me go there and give him money? - Jade asked raising one eyebrow. - I want so bad to give him something, and I think money wouldn’t be considered harassment.

– Jadie, we can totally go there, but please stop drinking, it’s your second cup and you’re already planning to get laid with someone you know nothing about. - The dark-haired woman said seriously and smiled, not leaving traces of tension. - Two more cups and you’ll be starting to consider raising kids with him.

– Our children would look great, ok? - Jade said laughing and finishing her second cup of vodka, still staring at the singer.

They kept on talking, well, Shims started commenting on something about Hoseok. Apparently the redheaded man is now dating some guy he met during one his classes in an University (Jade didn’t even knew Hoseok graduated in something other than High School). Someone named Taemin and also a great dancer. Jade moved her glare from “The Singer” only to login in Facebook and find Hobi’s new boyfriend.

It’s not like Jade was surprised Hoseok was dating. They met during High School, and beside all differences, their friendship lasted long and remained even after so many years. Not surprisingly, the group began growing considerably with Hobi inviting Taehyung, who brought his love interest together, Shims, which introduced them to Taylor, Zariah, Robin, DiLayla, Bárbara and Emerson, she who had been dating Kim Namjoon, a friend of Seokjin, Jungkook and Jimin, whose great humour ended up mingling well and becoming part of the pack.

Whoever decided to understand their group of friends from an outsider perspective, would probably go nuts, because not even them understood. Also, their relationship was complicated, basically, everyone at some point kissed everyone, except for the long lasting couple Emerson and Namjoon. The greatest bacchanal began when Taehyung and Shims broke up for the first time and he made a move towards Di, they kissed, but never ignited a make-out session. Shims would never be left behind and called Jin, who was fighting with Zariah (his significant other, and possibly the closest person).

Shortening a long and rather intrincated story: Jin is now engaged to DiLayla, Jimin and Robin got surprisingly closer, Shims and Taehyung are still together, Namjoon and Emerson is the unproblematic couple, Zariah is dating someone called Bang Chan (she never formally introduced him, so he is not officially part of The Chaos Club), Taylor even denying is totally dating Jungkook, and Bárbara is with someone called Lisa, an actress who spends more time in Korea than in New York. Jade had a short affair with Jimin, but the man liked Binnie way too much. She also dated for a long time someone called Calum, and after the breakup decided to focus on her career.

While Shims kept on discussing the probabilities of Hoseok remaining into that relationship for longer than two months, Jade was far and deep inside her own mind, tangling herself between thoughts and drunk fantasies, “The Singer” somehow appeared as well, his voice working as the narrator for whatever she was thinking.

– It’s been so long every since I felt something other than indignation towards Hoseok. - Jade pronounced out loud, with a bass voice, imitating “The Singer”.

– What? - Shims questioned chuckling.

– Sorry, I was thinking out loud… With another voice in my head. - Jade explained and brushed off. - But I'm serious, I broke up with Calum four years ago and every since then I never felt another warm sensation other than tears, whilst watching some emotional crap on Netflix. I went to dates with some dudes, but things never… You know, never made my heart beat faster and all that romantic and lovey dovey stuff.

– Complicated. - Shims furrowed her eyebrows, raising them in an arc seconds later. - The Singer stopped singing and is taking a break. It's now or never. - She pushed Jade's chair and watched the woman trying to let her long dark-blonde hair down.

– I don't know what to say. Should I buy him a drink? - Jade questioned worried sick and smoothing out her clothes, and obviously trying to procrastinate. She just got fired and felt touched by a sad song, it’s not like Jade actually wanted to go on a date, maybe get laid, but not while feeling emotionally wrecked and confused.

Fuck. Jade wanted to chicken out, but something on Shims eyes seemed very intimidating and without realizing, her legs began working on their own, guiding a half-drunk woman in The Singer’s direction.

There he was. Standing beside the stage with a glass of wine on one hand and checking his cellphone. His black hair fell like a sheer, soft-looking curtain on his forehead covering a bit of his small and dark eyes. A big black shirt with long-sleeves folded to the elbows, jeans painted the same colour, with trenched knees, and a dirty pair of Vans. Ok, the man seemed even hotter staring him closer. Jade wanted to run and have four more drinks before going home, but before she could escape, he looked up and saw a woman looking at him, without blinking.

– Can I help you? - He asked with a voice as soft as his hair, no trace of accent found.

– Hmm, Jade. - The woman said, trying desperately to find coherent words, but only facing a HUGE URGE to use her long hair like a cocoon, hiding and only leaving when butterfly wings grew on her back. - I mean, my name is Jade.

– Nice to meet you, Jade. - The man said and binned his cellphone in one of the back pockets. - My name is Min Yoongi. Can I help you with something? Like teaching you how to blink.

– What? - Jade raised her eyebrows and blinked a few times before smiling and slowly remembering how to act like a proper adult, not a drunk grown up, which was her actual situation. - Sorry about that. You’re a really good singer. Is that song yours?

Min Yoongi smiled, a gummy and cute smile. He sat down on the stage and patted the wood beside, inviting a very flustered Jade to join him. That simple action made the blood before accumulated on her body flow straight to her cheeks, warming the whole face. Nevetheless, she took the place beside the skinny man.

– Thank you. And no, the songs I chose for today aren’t mine. - Yoongi proffered, looking at Jade. - They are from a korean band called NELL. I do compose, though.

– You are hot and talented, of course you also compose. - Jade almost bit her tongue after letting those words accidentally escape. - Sorry. I’m visibly punchy and pissed off at the St.Bartholomew’s Hospital.

– Thank you and I’m sorry, I guess. - Yoongi said, not knowing exactly what to say, but feeling his cheeks getting warmer. - Well, I only have to sing for more ten minutes and then I’m free. Do you want to talk about it, whilst drinking a soda? I ain’t gonna pay you more alcohol, or you’d become a walking fire hazard.

– Deal. - She said and stood up, shaking hands with Yoongi and walking in the bar’s direction, flustered and internally panicking, leaving a smiley man behind.

Jade made her best to sit beside Shims and not fall. Yoongi was clearly staring, so slumping to the ground would be rather embarrassing. She stayed silent, ‘til listening to his voice singing again, then turned to her friend and began speaking.

– I was about to ask if you wanted me to help you getting home safe and sound, but now I’ll just casually leave. - Shims chuckled and touched her shoulder. - I ain’t gonna third wheel your first date in ages.

– Shims! I’m not in condition of dealing with such a cute and hot guy! - Jade was still tipsy and holding the tears. - My plan before meeting you was to buy a ton of Cup Noodles and wine, so I could mildew alone at home. You can’t leave me with him! I strongly doubt someone would ever feel attracted to a grown ass woman whining and sobbing.

– See, Jade, I will stand up, pay my bar tab and leave. - The dark-haired woman said while petting her friend’s arm. - You can do whatever seems right. If running for your life sounds better than speaking to someone so talented and sweet, then go for it.

– Thank you. That’s exactly what I’ll do. - Jade told and stood up after grabbing a twenty dollar bill and some dimes inside her pocket, throwing everything on the counter, trying to leave without stumbling and falling, being followed by a giggly Shims.

- x - x - x - x -

Unsurprisingly, in the moment Jade arrived at home with four chicken-flavoured Cup Noodles and box of wine, she immediately felt regret for leaving the bar. Placing all the food on the kitchen table, she dragger herself to one sofa, laying heavily there.

– What the fuck? - Jade questioned staring at the ceiling. - Why such a shitty day? What the actual fuck, God? Not a single good thing happened to me! I know I’m not the most interesting human being walking on earth, but I certainly don’t deserve to be punished twice in a single day. - She turned to one side, looking at the TV and seeing her reflection there, shrunk in a fetal position. - Great, now I’m speaking to myself. Unemployed and crazy. Even worse. Unemployed, crazy and definitely not getting some.

Weary of staring at her own misery reflected on the turned off TV, Jade decided to stick to the original plan: eat Cup Noodles, drink wine and watch as many cliche, lameass rom coms as she could find on Netflix.

It’s The Notebook night, bitch.

…

– WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN, MR.DARCY? - Jade yelled at the TV, accidentally dropping one of the chopsticks, a bunch of used and new tissues around her tiny figure in comparison to the huge sofa. - Elizabeth loves you! True love is a total lie.

She was sobbing in a pool of self-pity and tears, some of them drying on her cheeks, some just bathing her old pajama t-shirt (a very ancient Bananas in Pajamas one). Totally fed after consecutively gulping down two Cup Noodles and three glasses full of wine, considering the idea of ordering some pizza and a male stripper.

– Goddamn Lord. That Yoongi guy ruined me. - Jade thought out loud, after picturing herself calling somewhere with strippers. - Before listening to his depressive songs and staring at his cute eyes and cheeks, I was satisfied with my nonexistent romantic life, now I’m considering the idea of nurturing a very dirty business. What the fuck? Why am I talking to myself again? Gosh, I better stop drinking. - She placed her glass on the coffee table, but not before chugging the wine.

Jade knew that “The Self-care night” was pure bullshit. She wished to avoid at every cost thinking about her day. Rationalizing all the occurred would make her feel desperate and sad, a bit anxious as well.

Stability. That’s exactly what Jade looked for her whole life. A settle down lifestyle, without worrying about money or having a roof above her head.

After leaving her parents home and going to college, she defined as a goal to live comfortably somewhere secure, with a good job and being able to eat, sleep, spend a bit more without losing her mind over lack of money. Stability, she found it and established in a small apartment, working everyday and slowly acquiring more and more stuff.

Most people considered her lifestyle a bit boring. Not even a single worry. Nothing different happening. No adventures. The friends admired her strength and how hard Jade worked, but would never trade some of their “easy struggles” for her settled living. It was incredibly predictable and perfect. Completely opposite to what Hoseok lived by. The young man took YOLO way too seriously and constantly found himself drowning in debts, but somehow also always gained money paying everything and going back to exploring what life had to give.

Totally opposites. Two different polarities from a same magnet. Although, in such a complicated situation Hoseok was always the first person Jade thought about calling. They knew each other for long enough to trust and deal with their differences as well as with similarities.

After the end scenes of Pride and Prejudice, Jade grabbed her cellphone and still sobbing dialed Hoseok’s number, hoping he could answer the call and chat a little bit.

– Hey, Jeed. - Hoseok picked up and said happily, as always. A loud music playing around him. - What’s up? Everything is smooth and soothe?

– Hey Hobi. - Jade tried to speak without crying, but thinking about the current situation made a sobbing mess of her. - Everything is shitty. So shitty. Oh Hobi, my life is ruining like Constantinople!

– Calm down, my friend. - He asked, voice soft and sweet as a sunny day of summer. Loud music still could be heard, slightly fading as Hoseok walked far from where he originally was. - Tell me what happened, don’t spare details, you know I love them.

– Aren’t you busy? I can hear a loud EDM music. Are you working on any dance academy? Or worse, were you busy WITH Taemin? - Jade questioned feeling a bit of guilt filling her guts.

– Don’t worry, Jeed. I’m in a party, some friend of mine took a job as DJ and invited me to prestige his work. Nothing new, I attend to gigs like that almost everyday. - Hoseok uttered, still using his sunny sounding voice. - Now tell me, what happened?

– If you insist… - She sighed and poured some more wine, ignoring her own promise of stop drinking. - I was fired from my job on that hospital, St.Bartholomew. But before being dismissed, my day began shitty when the car broke and I took public transportation. Traffic jam, accident in an avenue, someone tossed itself on the rails making me two hours late. I fucked up some Excel sheets and scheduled appointments, my boss was there checking if everything worked alright and Mindy, the nurse and manager I commented with you that hated me, she lied and it made me get fired. Unemployed and sad. That’s how I am.

– But I feel that something else happened after being fired. Did someone hurt you? - Hoseok asked. Now Jade could no longer hear the EDM song playing as a background sound.

– Well… I met someone at a bar with Shims. - Jade felt her cheeks getting warm only by thinking about Yoongi’s voice. - I bumped on her and we decided to have some drinks to seize my pain. After two vodkas, I decided to chat with the cute guy singing there, and fuck, he was hot and invited me to drink some soda, ‘cuz he wouldn’t pay me more alcohol or, in his own words, I’d become a fire hazard. He got back on stage to finish his presentation and I ran away from that bar, even after accepting his drink offer.

– So now you’re feeling lonely and guilty? - The redheaded man questioned, she could picture him raising one eyebrow in disapproval. It made Jade grin and stop crying.

– Basically.

– Did you even ask the man’s name? Or you just said something incredibly smart, flirted a little and then made him fall for your beauty? - Again the disapproval voice, she could picture one of his eyebrows almost touching the hairline.

– I did ask, you moron. Stop assuming I was that drunk. - She cooed and looked at the wine inside her glass. - Min Yoongi.

– Ooooh! You flirted with Min Yoongi? And he didn’t turn you out? Lucky girl. - Hoseok’s sunny voice made a comeback, changing back to disapproval seconds later. - Bad news, now he probably hates you.

– I know, I would hate myself too. - Jade murmured, feeling sad again. - I wish I could talk to him again and explain everything, maybe justify all the mess.

Hoseok told Jade that he would turn off the phone, but was going to call her in a few minutes. Giggling, the redheaded demanded her to not pass out or go to sleep, receiving a very ugly word in response.

Before getting to actually know Hoseok and Jade, people would always assume they were a couple. A common mistake, considering how close and for how long they would’ve been annoying and supporting each other. Everytime one had a problem, the other would automatically try its best to solve or at least help. Monetarily (as Jade assisted Hobi so many times) or emotionally (as they used to lend a hand more often than both would ever admit).

Nevertheless, their relationship never crossed the thin line between everlasting friendship and romantic bond. What they had was so rare and unique, that even after bringing so many new friends to their “pack”, some sharing more similarities with both, Hoseok and Jade only fully trusted each other.

Despite everything mentioning, affirming and proving how strong their bond is, Hoseok and Jade indeed had REAL and SERIOUS fights. Once the argument made them stop talking to each other for almost a whole year, when they detached everything they could possibly keep in common (even mutual friendships, that’s when most couples formed actually).

During that period of time where Jade and Hobi were separated, Taylor mentioned something about ‘akai-ito’, a serie she watched with Jimin and found very intriguing. Basically, akai-ito is a thin red yarn connecting every human being, uniting mainly soulmates. Everyone shared an ‘akai-ito’ sometimes with more than one person ‘cuz it worked both with friends and romantic bond.

Apparently, the red wire connecting Hoseok and Jade never allowed them to detach forever. After one full year not even glancing in the other’s direction, he had serious problems with a girlfriend and needed somewhere to stay, specifically a place where Ellie wouldn’t even imagine where. Watching her friend desperate and begging for forgiveness, Jade felt the heart melt a little and things got back on track.

While Jade choose what she wanted to watch next (something between 17 Again and Marley & Me), Hoseok called back.

– Why did you turn off the call? - Jade inquired still tracking something good to watch on Netflix.

– Well, you want to apologize and ask for Yoongi hyung’s forgiveness, right? - Hobi said and before she could even think about replying, he continued gladly. - Well, it’s your lucky day. Guess who is the DJ friend I mentioned previously?

–You’ve got to be kidding me! - She dropped the remote control and stared blankly at one white wall. - Is it a prank? I’m sad, Hoseok. It’s not cool to play with someone’s sadness.

– Hi Jade. - A cold well known voice said on the other end. - It’s Min Yoongi, or the guy you dumped earlier.

In that moment Jade froze, not knowing what to say. When she began venting about Yoongi with Hoseok a few minutes earlier, Jade was still beginning to think about what could be said as an apology. Whilst holding her phone and trying not to cry again, the woman risked to gather some coherent words again.

– Min Yoongi. I’m surprised to hear your voice. - She pronounced and regretted immediately, aware that her words and tone sounded as if he were the guilt one. - I’m sorry, I sounded cocky and I’m actually so insecure about that call, because as you may know, or not since Hoseok is a complete scumbag, I wasn’t expecting to put together so soon a whole apology for what I did earlier. Like, I never intended to accept and dump you, I didn’t even know you earlier and I was sad, recently unemployed, a bit horny and tipsy. So yeah, Hoseok isn’t the only scumbag, I’m the whole trash can. Sorry. I’m really sorry and I drank half a box of wine and my mind is blurry, but I’m sorry for sure. Hope you can forgive me, or at least consider the idea before dumping it like I did with your soda invitation. Right now I’m a fire hazar…

– Ok, can you please let me talk? - Yoongi demanded, still sounding cold, or it could be only Jade’s insecurity, since she heard his talking voice for five minutes and couldn’t possibly know how to differ happy from bored Min Yoongi. - Hoseok may be a scumbag sometimes, and he slapped me for saying that, but yeah he is also a very cool guy, which used his friendship with me to explain your situation. See, I’m still feeling my ego ache a little, but considering everything you went through earlier, then I can forgive you, under one condition...

– That’s alright. I’ll never call Hoseok a scumbag again. - She declared and then realized Yoongi didn’t finish to say what he wanted. - It’s your condition, right? Not calling Hoseok a scumbag again.

– No, it’s not. Two conditions now, nothing related to Hoseok, though. - Yoongi’s voice sounded less irritated. - One, you have to make me a proper dinner invitation, and two, don’t interrupt me while I speak. It’s annoying.

– Oh, ok. Shall I get your phone number so the dinner details can be discussed with more compromise? - Jade asked in a flirty tone.

– Not a problem, I’ll send you my phone number through Hobi’s phone. - Yoongi stated with also a flirty voice. - Thank you for the apology. Bye, Jade.

Yoongi turned off the call and a few minutes later a message made her mobile ring. Hoseok sent a phone number. Jade took no time in saving and texting him something cool:

‘Hey bro. Sup? What will it be? McDonald’s or Burger King?’

‘It’s not proper. Or an invitation. Try again, Jade’

- x - x - x - x -

– It's dumb! - Jade said and grabbed Yoongi's fist, trying to open it. - You can't and won't put an olive inside your nose! Not under my watch.

– Come on, Jade! Hoseok once tried to put a dollar dime in there and surprisingly it fitted. An olive is easy and greased. - Yoongi chuckled, closing his fist even harder and watching the woman beginning to scratch every piece of skin exposed. - He was high, but who cares? HE INSERTED A COIN IN HIS NOSE.

– Stop yelling. - She felt her cheeks getting warm with everyone around them staring. Maybe having a “casual date” somewhere fancy wasn't a good idea. - I know Hoseok did it. When we were in high school someone doubted he could make a condom pass from his nose to his mouth. He almost choked on the latex but won a bet. You really shouldn't base on Hobi’s personal experiences to define what you can or cannot do. Mainly when it comes to inserting stuff in any body cavity.

– That phrase wasn't well planned. - Yoongi chuckled and when it clicked, Jade felt her face getting even warmer. - You convinced me of not testing my nostril flexibility. Shall we order? Or shall we pay for the breadsticks we consumed and go grab something at In ‘N’ Out?

– Honestly? I’m still unemployed and there are no job offers in sight, so In ‘N’ Out seems financially better for me. - Jade cooed staring at the menu. - The cheapest dinner course here can pay two combos in any fast food place.

Leaving the restaurant, Yoongi and Jade felt light. Mood couldn't be better, without tension or alcohol involved their conversation. It was endearing and scary. They had a great and, if I may say, cliche connection. Completing each other’s phrases and blushing whenever their looks crossed, fingers “accidentally” brushing. The woman felt like everything was a romcom, and couldn’t be more gleeful.

Before meeting and having that great date, they texted each other for two days straight, trying to relocate Yoongi’s scheduled gigs and work in a music studio (apparently, he not only composes, but also produces, sing and can rap. What a package, Ma’am). After a lot of talking, he decided to leave the studio earlier and spend a whole night beside her.

Going out with someone she actually enjoyed the company felt weird. Jade decided to focus on a successful career and comfortable life rather than romance, so after breaking up with her boyfriend no one else really appealed. A couple of one night stands, but nothing serious or swore to last.

Therefore, Yoongi appeared.

Jade was far from being in love with Min Yoongi, but would never deny that his texts were funny, and himself was a delight to speak. Somehow his sarcastic nature and cute face completed a perfect combo, and the woman could spend hours staring at how Yoongi’s cheeks seemed always filled with marshmellows, or how some words were pronounced with a pout on lips. The gummy smile, that memorable gummy smile.

…

They ordered some burgers and fries from In ‘N’ Out, deciding to eat somewhere else. Yoongi invited Jade to his place, so the dinner could happen for free on his roof, under stars and moon.

Yoongi’s appartement was small and cozy, with blueish LED lights against dark blue walls, making the room seen smaller, and a huge black leather sofa. Whilst grabbing some blankets and pillows to cover the floor, he mentioned that his favourite thing about there was actually the soundsystem and soundproof walls, which were the first two things installed when he finally got enough money.

– I was 24 and Lenny Kravitz paid for one of my compositions. - Yoongi bragged and opened the stairs door, guiding Jade up to the last floor. - Of course only Lenny’s wage didn’t pay it all alone. I saved every sight of money I could and, it’s a secret, skipped several meals, only to eat less. Now I can totally live off what I receive from the studio, but singing in pubs and bars is fun.

– Inspiring. I would never give up the opportunity of having a definitive work, even with my family, to live such a crazy dream in a whole another country. - Jade said, trying to breathe calmly after climbing four sets of stairs. - You left Korea, knowing a bit of english and basically made your life here? Without any help? Inspiring, truly inspiring.

– I won’t play humble. It was hard and lonely, until I met Jung Hoseok. We shared the rent several times. - Yoongi smiled and finally opened the rooftop door.

The rooftop wasn’t incredible. It had some plants and flowers being cultivated here and there, old and rusty benches, but in the middle of everything could be seem a small clean space.

– I guessed you wouldn’t actually want to have dinner somewhere fancy, so I paid Mr.Edwards, better known as my Landlord, to clean a small piece of the rooftop. - Yoongi murmured, hiding his cheeks and embarrassment. - Hoseok said I was crazy, that you would never accept to leave Olive Garden to eat some takeout here. According, and I quote his words, you are way too dependent of comfort and boring adult conventions to live such a childish experience.

– Can I call him scumbag? - Jade questioned feeling flustered and gaining a gummy, also flustered, smile from Yoongi.

Hoseok wasn’t completely wrong, though. Jade hated to leave the comfort of a restaurant and, of course, would never imagine herself eating junk food on a rooftop full of barely recognizable plants. She valued the stability and predictability from certain situations, mainly over scenarios where something could go deadly wrong.

What were the odds, though? She was unemployed and if ever allowed herself to have complete meals in expensive places, would run out of money shortly after. The idea of being so unstable freaked Jade out, but as the tough woman she became, admitting wasn’t even an option.

Years working and leaving night outs early, all with the finality of being a good employee. Her happy and borderline boring life depended on that job. Losing it resulted in anxiety attacks for two nights in a row and liters of tears, desperate sobs and a feeling of failure, deep down.

Jade became her work.

Focusing on Jade’s expression, Yoongi captured a feeling of emptiness. As if her happiness was only a momentum situation, not constant. Every time the woman lost herself in a sorrow brain and waves of thoughts, the beautiful eyes got opaque and sad, shortly after brushing it off and desperately trying to hide how far she actually looked. I mean, a body was definitely sitting beside Min Yoongi, but the mind would go and come back, an ocean-like motion.

– How don't you get motion sick? - Yoongi questioned, still staring at Jade. He took a bite from his burger and chewed, focusing on the city lights.

– What do you mean? - Jade answered with another question, dipping a fry on a small puddle of ketchup.

– Your mind. It seems so work like a sea. - He replied and turned to look at her. - I can see by looking into your eyes. You think about what's bragging in waves, focusing on that sorrow subject and distracting, going back and then letting go again. Waves. I'd totally feel nauseous.

– Well, I do get nauseated sometimes. Whenever the waves become tsunamis, my stomach flips. - The woman answered and took a sip from the soda.

– You are thinking about your old job aren't you? - He cocked his head to the side.

– I don't know. I don't feel comfortable about venting. - Jade couldn't look straight at Yoongi, flustered with the idea of telling him what passes through her mind. - But you seem like someone reliable. See, I always loved feeling secure and stable. The stability of having a job, a tight routine and security of earning enough to pay all my bills loosely, nothing ever felt better. My parents always had problems with money and a house, so leaving their wings and spreading my own, being able to construct a boring yet safe life became my main goal.

“I am independent by nature, safety doesn't mean having someone to stand by me, but owning a whole fucking place to warm me up during cold winters. A house, or apartment, with walls and somewhere to cook. I felt complete. Now everything is confusing. I don't know if I'll be able to pay my rent in two months. Instability is a nightmare.”

Yoongi wasn't sure about what to do. Should he hug? Tap her shoulder? Caress her back? Kiss Jade? Suck her sadness out by the tongue? Oh, it's taking a whole different turn, which he never intended in taking.

In fact, Yoongi felt a sort of attraction towards Jade. Who wouldn't feel? A great, independent, smart, attractive and funny woman, in her own way, also unique and deeply interesting. Her passion was admirable, reminded Yoongi of himself.

When they first met, at the bar, Yoongi thought she was beautiful, even a bit punchy, and honestly wanted to pay her something to drink (even considering the idea of buying stuff in trade of physical contact was narrow, edging old-minded). He felt offended when Jade left, literally running away.

He felt surprised when Hoseok appeared with his phone in hands and babbling about a friend, specifically a girl who dumped him in a bar and was now regretting it. At first Yoongi wanted to ignore Jade, but her day seemed to end pretty shitty. Why not to give another shot?

Gladly he did.

– I'm afraid of compromise. - Yoongi murmured, trying to make Jade listen, but not wanting it at the same time.

– Well, it's not something bad. - Jade slide her hand closer to his on the blanket, slightly touching pinkies. - I don't have problems with compromise, as long as they don't disturb my routine.

– You don't get it. I like going out with people, but engaging in a romantic relationship frightens me up. - He still murmured, but now a little louder. - Making a relationship work isn't a piece of cake. Not for me. I understand when you say your priority is working and becoming stable. I think exactly the same. Ugh, it's so lonely to live like I do, but producing songs have always been my dream...

Jade got courage and ran her fingers along Yoongi’s, intertwining them. Both blushed and grinned. Slowly, and unsure, the man turned around and bent a little, brushing his soft lips against Jade's cheek. She made the same movements, but intentionally kissing him. A small and shy peck.

Like magic working through their veins, Yoongi rested his hand on Jade's cheek, deepening the kiss. In a slow pace, they putted the food away and laid down, trading smooches and pecks, with no intention of going further. His body on top of hers, under moonlight and stars.

They stayed there, in a comfortable silence for a long time. Watching the moon and trying to forget problems and outside world.

- x - x - x - x -

Three months later, Yoongi and Jade were still seeing each other quite often. Suiting his frighten of compromise, they never meant to label what kind of bond were shared.

Yoongi helped Jade to improve her resume, with some editing and a bit more of detail, no one could possibly deny a job. One month after their “unofficial date”, she was hired by a newspaper as a receptionist and occasional movie critic (She sent her opinion and whenever it sounded coherent, they published and paid an extra).

Her obsession with stability and security remained, but now sharing worries and struggles with someone special.

Hoseok proudly took credit for reuniting them after the bar fiasco. Shims disagreed saying their akai-ito tied in the moment she and Jade entered that bar and coincidentally where Yoongi was singing.

The Chaos Club decided to reunite somewhere fun (or the bar Yoongi and Jade first met), have a few drinks and talk about life, listen to some new stories from Hoseok, and turn Yoongi officially a new member of their pack.

Taylor held hands right with Jungkook, Robin and Jimin were indeed together, Emerson and Namjoon kept their title as Unproblematic Couple, Zariah and Bang Chan had bickerings but remained as a couple, Jin and Di were still engaged, but now planning their wedding party and preparing to invite their best men and maid of honour. Bárbara was glad, almost morphing into Lisa through a hug. Shims and Taehyung were throwing bread crumbs on each other, but occasionally stopping to say something sweet, teasing and starting all over again. Hoseok was surprisingly quiet, whispering things on Taemin’s ear.

The loud speaking and confusion stopped when Jade and Yoongi appeared, getting in the bar holding hands and laughing at something she said. His work finished an hour earlier, but he showed at her job and made company until she could leave as well.

In the moment the couple settled down and ordered some drinks, Hoseok showed up with a closed umbrella.

– Can I start the acceptance ceremony? We have to celebrate their unlabeled relationship! - Jung Hoseok pronounced and stared at his friends, and boyfriend (already accepted as a Chaos Club member), Taemin.

– Just go, Jung. - Yoongi said, rolling his eyes.

– You cannot tell me what or not to do, yet, Min. - Hoseok mocked and raising an eyebrow in fake disapproval.

– Then I can. Just go, Jung. - Jade told harshly, but smiled innocently right after.

– Now that an official Chaos Club said it, I can start. - He cleared his throat and began talking. - Today, my fellows and lover, we are willing and ready to accept a new member to our family, our club, our escape of human average intelligence and cheap humour, The Chaos Club. Here we have Min Yoongi, Jade's partner in crime, and a friend of mine. Do anyone have any problems or anything to add? Is anyone against his addition to our deary club of friends? - Not a single word, everybody just smiled at how theatrical Hoseok seemed holding the umbrella like a sword. - Since not a soul disagreed with my words, I proclaim Min Yoongi as a member from The Chaos Club. - He touched both Yoongi’s shoulders with the umbrella. - Now everybody drink a shot of tequila in honour of this historical moment. Cheers!

Everybody took in one sip the previously poured tequila. Jade and Yoongi smiled widely and kissed, getting their crowd to applause their action.

Jade and Yoongi were now officially together.

- x - x - x - x -

P:S I love you x

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junkyardlynx · 5 years

Text

Pt. 11

Nothing worked. The world happens, the world changes, the world, it is written here, in the next line, is only its own membrane—

Enlightenment. Vijay Seshadri.

---

Thomas scratched his cheek meekly, regarding the problem of the stranger he’d brought home as he stood in the kitchen, waiting for some water to boil. He had no parents to speak of and the uncle that was supposed to be his “guardian” simply left him money for food each month. There wouldn’t be any teen movie hijinks of hiding someone in his room only for his kind-but-suspicious mother to “accidentally” make too much dinner or anything like that.

Rummaging around in the cupboards for a couple of tea bags, Thomas sighed. Why was he doing this? Obviously Jeal was being attacked and Sarisa defended him. The lady with the sword and mask was some kind of crazy ninja assassin. A crazy ninja assassin sitting on his couch. Was it because Jeal was rich? Like, he didn’t seem rich, but his crazy-weird dad owned a couple local businesses and they had that huge house. By all means, Thomas should be taking the side of his close friends.

But, ah. It was obvious.

Sarisa had used some kind of...magic.

Not some Harry Potter wand waving stuff with dementors and the like. Like. Final Fantasy magic. With the elements and the -ga suffixes and the mana cost and the really overpowered party member who learned all the good spells and had the best materia.

Thomas was unable to be considered a thoughtful boy and that was because he simply couldn’t let the sheer wonder at such an event go. He had to know, and if he knew his friends (which it felt like he didn’t, really) he knew they wouldn’t tell him. They always “protected” him. They’d lie and call him crazy and make him doubt his own eyes until he buried the subject himself. They’d done it before. For his sake, they said.

Truthfully?

He felt a little betrayed.

Jeal moved with supernatural grace and speed, stepping between every slash that girl had levied at him like it was boring. Every time Thomas replayed that scene in his head, it was more and more apparent that Jeal was simply playing with her. His friend’s red eyes, which seemed like a curious touch of albinism, now seemed preternatural and overly cruel. He was more a sculpture of ice than a person.

Shaking his head and sighing again, Thomas poured the boiling water over two bags of blueberry chamomile in two matching mugs, both reading “World’s Coolest Kid.” He thought it was funny. Steeping them for a practiced three-and-a-half minutes, he then discarded the bags in the trash and brought the tea out to the living room.

He sat one down in front of his guest, who regarded him with one cursory glance before picking it up. She seemed to use it as more of a hand-warmer than anything else as it was still far too hot to drink comfortably.

“How’s the jaw?”

She winced at his words, rubbing it with her right hand. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily) it had merely been dislocated and Thomas had been able to snap it back into place for her.

“Fine. And your hand?”

He gave it an exaggerated shake. She’d bitten into it when he was performing what one might call “amateur non-invasive surgery.”

“Probably broken, I’ll chop it off later.”

She didn’t really smile, but her eyes seemed to lighten up.

“So uh, what’s your name?”

“Fujiwara. Yours?”

“Damn, you really get to the point. Not one wasted word. Uh, I’m Thomas. Nice to fix your face and also meet you.”

“Pleasured.”

He noted that for whatever else, she didn’t seem to actively dislike him. The thought was strangely comforting. Fujiwara was probably her family name or whatever.

“So uh, Fujiwara. Can you tell me why you were trying to fillet that weirdo alive?”

“You know who he is.”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Of course she knows I know him if she’s hunting him, Thomas thought. It’d be stranger if she didn’t.

“I agreed to this because you do not know what he is. I would ask that you dispense with falsehoods.”

“Uh, fair enough. So why were you trying to kill Jeal?”

“He’s a demon.”

In spite of himself, Thomas laughed. He laughed so hard that tea splashed out of his mug, landing with a wet little splat on the coffee table. He apologized quickly.

“Sorry. Uh. I’ve known him since we were like, four feet tall. Jeal’s not a demon.”

“You think demons cannot simply be born like any other creature? What do you know of demons? What do you know of Sarisa? What do you know of Jeal? Of magic? What do you know of any of this?”

Her words were cold, but not cruel. Fujiwara seemed to be genuinely inquiring as to what Thomas knew.

“I mean, I’m sure you know I’m gonna say magic isn’t real outside of games and books. Jeal and Sarisa are weird, but they’re not like, demons. Where’s the horns and flames and stuff? Or where’s the like, overwhelming sex appeal? Neither of ‘em have it for me, man.”

“I only said Jeal was a demon, but your outlook is fair. They’ve lied to you and done the utmost to keep you from finding out the truth. I suppose it is a sort of mercy. After all, magic has a tendency to destroy the lives of whatever it touches.”

It sounded to Thomas like she was speaking from experience. He went to apologize again before swallowing his words with a swig of tea from his mug. Empty platitudes never served anyone well.

“Jeal Culaine is a demon, born to a family of mages from his father’s side while his mother is a youkai - a yuki-onna, to be precise. In the past, we pursued his mother as a matter of honor, but now our sole concern is Jeal’s existence. He should not be.”

“Well, right away I can tell you that you’ve got the wrong guy. Jeal’s last name isn’t Culaine, it’s Innhamlet.”

She looked terribly sad for a moment.

“Have you ever heard of the scion of a wealthy family attending a public school under an alternative name? This is a...similar case.”

Thomas set the mug down before he could drop it, masking his frustration and surprise remarkably well. He scratched behind his ear - all of his scratches were something of a nervous habit - and then spoke.

“So you’re telling me his last name is Culaine and he’s half-Japanese? Jesus, how many lies can one dude tell? That’s one hell of a backstory. What’s next, you’re gonna tell me that he’s like, some sleeping demon lord and he’s gonna nuke the entire earth? That’s a little too Marty Stu for me, Fuji.”

“You may not enjoy how close to the mark you are. I spoke of Jeal being a demon; this is both figurative and literal. In the figurative sense, he is simply too powerful to be left alone. His heritage gives him strange powers and draws strange things to him. His natural talent is also...quite terrifying.”

“So he’s really strong? But Jeal’s really kind. I don’t see how that’s a problem. He usually just does his own thing, and the only time I’ve ever seen him act out was to help, like...people like me. Mostly me, actually. Pretty much just me.”

“We have observed as much. Were this and this alone, we would simply be content to leave him be. The heart of the matter comes from the literal sense of the word demon.”

“I know enough about folklore to know that youkai are kinda demons or whatever, is that what you mean? Like, he’s a halfsies on his mom’s side, he should be pretty normal. A little cold, haha, but y’know. Normal.”

“Your poor humor aside, that is both what I mean and not entirely what I mean. As he is the offspring of a youkai, his mana - think of it as life essence - is heavily intoxicating to the inhuman. This, coupled with the sorcerer’s blood from his father, has attracted the attention of what you might equate to, ah, the devil.”

“Oh, okay. I see. So you’re fucking with me.”

“I am not. Do you know how many bled against Emirus to find information on this vessel?”

“Jeal’s dad? He’s way nice, too. I find this all really hard to actually beli-”

Fujiwara had begun to levitate off of the couch, still sipping her tea. Thomas realized that an innumerable amount of eyes stared back at him, peering from every exposed piece of Fujiwara’s skin. She levied her multitudinous stare at him.

“Okay. I get your point. Magic’s probably real. I still don’t really believe any of this, but go on.”

His words seemed more like a prayer to himself rather than a real denial. All the pieces were coming together, all the strange things he chose (or was told) to ignore. All the doubts he had, all the vague feelings. Every inconsistency lining up with a lie revealed by this stranger from a strange land.

“His name is Soritoroth. All of the classic Abrahamic demons draw their origins back to him, along with a few others that are somewhat more difficult to categorize. A detailed history would be a waste of time, but suffice it to say he is a calamitous event unto himself.”

“And what, he wants to wear Jeal like some kind of humansona?”

“Why do you insist on using words that both vex and amuse me? But yes. Jeal’s body and power are acting as a beacon for Soritoroth, though he can make use of any vessel that has bathed in the proper pow...ah, this is....”

Thomas found her two dark eyes on him, regarding him with a stark and clinical look. The rest had vanished. He wasn’t sure if they were an illusion or simply a part of her. He wasn’t very interested in finding out for sure.

“Uh?”

“It’s nothing. I was going to tell you that you seem to be a viable candidate due to your prolonged exposure to Jeal, but I’m sure your own latent magical prowess is far too lacking. As we thought, there appears to be the one vessel. That makes my mission all the more pressing.”

Fujiwara stood up, checking her body with a few pats. She pulled the mask out of her robe, channeling a bit of her strange power into it. It seemed to ripple, restoring the lost material, once again reflecting the face of a terrifying oni. She gave Thomas a short bow.

“The tea was...delicious. Thank you. I appreciate your help. If I may offer a word of warning?”

“Uh, shoot.”

“Do not act differently around those two. They are uncannily attentive. Though I know quite little about Sarisa, her own lineage is storied and the both of them are, frankly, absurd; both seek out trouble and revel in it.”

“And you’re gonna try and murder him again, knowing that?”

“I suppose. It is all I can do.”

“How about...”

His voice trailed off. This was betrayal most supreme. He’d have to change his name to Thomas Judas after this. But he felt that this was the only way to really save his friends.

“How about you let me help?”

“Excuse me?”

“I love those guys. There’s got to be another way. Just let me be your inside man and I’ll do what I can, you know? There’s always another way that doesn’t involve Jeal mopping the floor with you again.”

“You are...not entirely incorrect.”

“So it’s a deal?”

Fujiwara considered Thomas for a long moment, arms crossed over her chest. Eyes simultaneously like honeyed amber and black mud regarded him, dissected him a thousand ways, looked into what he was. At least, that’s how it felt to Thomas. He felt very small under her stare.

“If you continue to serve tea of this quality and allow me to reside here as I plan, then I suppose it is.”

Thomas thrust his hand out and Fujiwara took it, thin and pale lips finally curling into a real smile. She was terse at first, but she had gradually opened up over the course of their questionable conversation. It felt like all disjointed pieces were coming together now. He could begin to see the big picture - where his friends would go when they gave vague excuses, what they were doing, who they really were. In the end, it didn’t matter to him. They were the people he loved, and he was going to protect them this time. He’d help them like they always helped him. He’d save Jeal from both this assassin and whatever was coming for him. Things felt good. Things finally made sense.

Of course, their hard times had just begun.

#writing #my writing #the deeper wound #magic #modern fantasy

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