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undermattsun-archive · 4 years

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tell me

(skate rat) miyas x fem!reader | w.c 1.6k

a/n: ok look i’m no brother fucker on main, but the lewding potential post-show me was too delicious, and if i’m not an opportunistic whore... so here it is the pt 2 y’all keep screaming about that i actually started writing no more than two hrs after posting show me bc i have no self control

another big thankies to @sugardaddykenma for giving this a read over big fat wet besitos for u

18+ university | please read ALL warnings

warnings: INCEST full on (i’m sorry god), dubcon/noncon elements, fingering, overstimulation, dumbification (lowkey), degradation, manipulation, a dash of gaslighting, a bit of humiliation, virginity loss (mentioned), crybaby!reader, little bit of mind break, reader is tired + slurs words a bit

just...them taking advantage of dumb reader

read show me first! (not necessary but appreciated + it would make more sense to do so) NOW with the third part make me !!

One hour, twenty-six minutes and who knows how many seconds have gone by since your brothers have decided to go into an entire good cop, bad cop tirade.

Their words barely making a dent in your mind as a soreness settles in your bones, the added discomfort of a mixture of sweat, saliva and cum drying on your skin with the debauched feeling of Kita’s cum dripping from your sore cunt keeping your mind thoroughly distracted.

“You’re never gonna see him again.” Atsumu-nii barks out.

“It’s better that way.” Osamu-nii adds gently.

“In fact he’s dead next time we see him.”

“Yeah, very much dead.”

“We told him to stay away from you, fuck.” Atsumu flops down beside you, Osamu follows sitting on your other side.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” You mumble, regretting your words the second you see the look in your brothers’ eyes.

“Not that big a deal?” Atsumu’s voice is no more than a low growl as he rises, eyes narrowing at the statement. “Kita’s a fucking bastard and you just let him between your legs like it was nothing. Are you stupid?”

Your eyes widen at the accusation as you scoot away from him, drawing your knees to your chest, letting your eyes fall to the rumpled blankets surrounding you.

“You let him cum inside you?” A gasp falls from your lips, embarrassment scorches through you as you realize the way your bare cunt is exposed by the way you’re sitting. You immediately shoot back, slamming into Osamu as you squeeze your legs shut, dread filling your lungs as Atsumu crawls forward.

“Our little sister really is dumb. Is that what you’ve been up to while you’re away?” He’s always been faster than you, proven by how his fingers are already around your wrist, yanking you towards him. You know that struggling is a moot point, he’s bigger and faster and so much stronger. But you can’t help but wiggle around, barely able to make him budge even a centimeter.

“No! That was my first...” you bite your tongue as Atsumu crosses his legs and seats you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest as he snakes an arm around your waist. He rests his chin atop your head, a thoughtful hum vibrating in his chest against you.

“Hear that Samu?” Atsumu squeezes you tightly as your eyes frantically dart around Osamu’s features, silently begging for him to free you from this situation.

“Yeah Tsumu, she really gave up her virginity to Kita.”

“Like an idiot.” They muse in unison.

“I- but-”

“But nothing. Now your nii-chan’s need to clean you up. Stupid little girl.” He mutters against your hair, smoothing his hands over your thighs, spreading them apart more and more. Stretching them until they’re caught by his knees, rendering you helplessly exposed.

“Umm.” Your legs twitch, the position all too embarrassing, the powerlessness of it parallel to when you were being held by Kita. Taboo, the position screams.

“It’s okay, dumb girls like you make mistakes all the time,” Osamu smiles gently, shifting over to lift the hem of your shirt, handing it to Atsumu keeping it pinned just above your belly button, “that’s why you have us.”

Confusion swirls as you watch your older brother's fingers disappear into his mouth, eyes watching as his tongue flicks over the digits, retracting them slowly.

“Ah! Wait!” You yelp out as he pushes his index and middle fingers past your puffy hole, a stinging pleasure making the taut muscles of your thighs twitch. Atsumu lets out another low laugh, steadying your legs, forcing you to keep still as Osamu continues to prod further. The blunt ends of his fingers pressing and dragging against the sore gummy walls.

“Too much, too much.” You gasp as Osamu’s fingers dig further into your cunt, shaking as you feel the tips of fingers brush against your cervix. Fat tears begin to roll down your face as you press harder back into Atsumu, as if you could find escape in the rigid planes of his body.

His fingers continue to twist and scour, the sensation is all too overwhelming, making your throat tighten as you make futile attempts at clamping your legs shut, only making Atsumu snicker above you. You watch with panting breaths as Osamu finally draws out his fingers, covered in the milky white slick, evidence of the sins you committed just a few hours before.

“What a sloppy cunt, you really let him make a whore of you huh?” Atsumu bites, the words cut into you, the betrayal in his voice making your throat tighten further. You can only manage to choke out a broken sob of a denial as Osamu brings his fingers against your lips.

“Say ‘ah’.” You shake your head frantically, face quickly being caught in Osamu’s other hand.

“Don’t be difficult, we’re helping you.” Disappointment, the disappointment crumbles what little fighting spirit you had in the first place, you can’t stop the tears from falling as you let Osamu slip slicked fingers into your mouth. Lazily you swirl your tongue around them, exhaustion starting to sweep over you.

“All good?” Atsumu asks as Osamu pulls his digits from your mouth, smiling proudly at you.

“Let me make sure.” He lowers himself more onto the bed, bringing him face to face to your dripping cunny, he plants a hand against the taut muscle of your thigh, staring so intently at your twitching hole. “So fuckin messy.” It’s the closest to warning you get as he pushes his fingers back in, the yelp you let out sounding pitiful even to you.

“We shouldn’t, d-do this.” You grip at Osamu’s arm, but it’s as if each tug you make has no effect. There isn’t a purpose to his motions, his fingers pumping in and out of you with reckless abandon, the wet, lewd sounds filling the room.

“‘M just helping you.” Osamu breathes out, hot breath fanning over your sensitive cunt. With each push of his fingers you feel as though your whole body has been thrown under an unwavering waterfall, every stroke of his fingers feeling like the ruthless waters beating down on you.

“Yeah, you’re the idiot who went and fucked Kita Shinsuke of all people.” Atsumu chides, running a hand across your belly, lips tickling the shell of your ear. He pulls one of your hands off of Osamu, intertwining your fingers, securing your hand against your heaving chest.

“M’Not an idiot.” Your panting whines swirling with the soft wet clicking made by his digits in your cunt punctuating your shame, your words weakly slurred together. “Samu-nii n-n’more.”

“Hm? What was that?” He teases his ring finger against your entrance, viciously scissoring his index and middle, making your body stiffen, the pain of overstimulation surging violently chased with flecks of pleasure.

“Pretty sure she said more Samu.” Atsumu goads, slipping his other hand underneath your shirt to massage your tender breasts, the endless waves of exhaustion leaving you unable to deny yourself melting in his hold.

“More it is.” Without the slightest of stutters in his motions he stuffs in his ring finger, forcing your back to arch at the sting, the throbbing of your cunny is gut wrenching but the delicious curl of Osamu’s fingers is undeniable.

“Shlow down.” Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, head lolling back, knocking into Atsumu’s chin as you stare down with blurry vision at Osamu’s fingers disappearing into your wet heat.

“Think our little dummy means speed up, right sis? You wouldn’t want Samu to miss any leftover cum from your little slut stunt.”

“I-I don’t?” You mumble, trying to crane your head to meet Atsumu’s gaze, the disconnect of his words is disorienting as you continue to slip into worn out haze.

“Of course not, that’s what we’ve been telling you.” He releases your hand in favor of sliding his hand up to grip at your jaw, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Hey Samu I think you can fit a fourth.”

“Yeah, me too.” Atsumu presses your head against his, leaving the two of you cheek to cheek as your eyes widen at the sight of your brother’s pinky swiping besides your entrance.

“Won’t fit.”

“It will.” Osamu looks up at you, the familiar lazy half smile almost comforting as he begins to work his fourth finger into your thoroughly abused cunt. A jolt of biting pain mottled with bliss erupts through you. The feeling of being utterly stuffed, pushed past whatever limits you had, leaving you unable to even focus your eyes or make sense of whatever Atsumu whispers against you.

The entirety of your body feels like an exposed nerve, as if you’ve been left out in the sun too long, simultaneously hyper aware and numb of all the little touches and strokes across your flesh. You can feel Osamu steadily pick up the pace with each thrust of his fingers, each stroke as if he’s trying to dig deeper, as if he’s trying to make your cunny memorize the shape of each finger.

“Tsu-tsumu-niii, I thiiink…” Whatever comment you had is lost in your throat, the tiniest caress of Osamu’s thumb against your clit has your mind going blank, the entirety of your body coiling tightly, a mangled whine preempting the feeling of yourself gushing around Osamu’s fingers. Your body spasms, held tightly in Atsumu’s arms as you squeal out at Osamu unwilling to relent his movements, continuing to piston his fingers with reckless abandon.

“Enough, Ssamu enough.” Your vision goes spotty, watching with jagged breaths as he gradually withdraws. You spiral into unconsciousness one last shiver wracking through you as you watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, licking a stripe up his coated fingers. A dastardly grin the last thing you see as you black out.

#this work contains INCEST + NONCON elements #DO NOT READ IF U R NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THIS #save us both the time and effort and block me if you hate this content #if u want it to a mutual block lemme know #now that i have posted this i'm actually gonna go pray the rosary #here's ur part 2 whores #miki writes #tw noncon #tw incest #tw dubcon #tw virginity #tw degradation #tw humiliation #tw gaslighting #tw manipulation #tw dumbification #tw mindbreak #tw overstimulation

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lacontroller1991 · 3 years

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Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!

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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is.

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks.

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table.

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned.

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.”

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens.

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.”

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings.

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row.

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare.

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat.

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure.

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour.

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue.

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague.

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea.

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened.

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

#JB #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #Jaebeom fanfiction #GOT7 Werewolf AU #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom x Reader #Jaebeom smut #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf AU #Werewolf!JB #Not by the Moon

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slafkovskys · 3 years

Text

and ain’t no where that i’d be / t. zegras

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from what’s my name? by rihanna feat. drake

warning! please be advised that there is mature content below the cut

you were sitting in your bed when you got the notification. on the upper right corner of your screen, the messages banner popped up and your eyes scan over the words:

i’m picking you up and we’re fucking in the back of my car

it was simple, straight to the point, seemingly leaving no room for an argument. it causes your stomach to twist and your heart rate to increase.

you inhale sharply and stare at the message until it disappears. you weren’t even sure that you blinked. in the few seconds after, your cursor taunts you where it blinks. for most of the day, you’d been working on your schoolwork in an attempt to get ahead, but now, after reading what he had sent, the only words that you could focus on were his.

you didn’t respond because you knew that he knew that you wouldn’t object. you just close your laptop and set it aside before getting out of your bed. you walk over to your drawer to fish out some clothes other than your pajamas. you knew that he didn’t care what you wore and you knew that it wouldn’t be on very long, but you still wanted to try and look half decent. you hadn’t seen him in almost a month and, to be fair, you thought that he was going to break on day three. sure there were pictures sent back and forth and a couple of sessions over the phone, but you knew that would only keep him at bay for so long.

you took a quick shower too, using the body wash you knew he loved. you ran your hands through your hair before you grabbed your clothes. you put on your undergarments (red, lacy, dainty, undeniably his favorite on you) before covering them with a sweater and some soft shorts.

and then you waited.

you knew that he lived twenty minutes away and he did have a tendency to speed at times, but you didn’t know when he planned on leaving. your mind, still reeling from his text, races as you stare out of your window, anxiously watching for his car.

it wouldn’t be the first time you two had done it, sneak out to screw around that is, but now, especially under the circumstances, it just felt a little more nerve-wracking. a little more dangerous. a little more exciting.

it was a few minutes later that your phone lit up with a second message from him. he was down the block and waiting. you took a deep breath before walking over to your window and pushing it open. you slipped out and left it open a crack so you would be able to get back in before maneuvering your way down onto the ground.

your parents wanted you to sneak out, you concluded the first time you had done it. they put you in the room with a tree just outside the window that made it easy to make a break for it. that’s how you would justify it to yourself every time.

you walk around the side of your house and make your way down the driveway and towards where trevor would be parked. you both knew it wouldn’t be very smart for him to pull into your driveway like he usually would. it was way after midnight and you technically weren’t supposed to be going anywhere. plus, your mom would have a fit if she knew what you were doing.

you walk a few houses down before you spot trevor’s car. you slip in the passenger’s side and lean over to press your lips to his. your hand rests on his cheek, touching the skin you hadn’t been able to touch in weeks.

the kiss was hungry, rushed. you were making up for the lost time. he pulls away first and grabs a piece of your hair, wrapping it around his finger as a lazy smile graces his lips, “i missed you.”

“i missed you too, trev,” you smile, pressing your lips to his once more before leaning back in your seat. after you pull your seatbelt across your body, his hand finds yours as he pulls away from the sidewalk.

while he drove, you took your time to analyze him. he hadn’t put much effort into his look either, but he looked good nonetheless. he was wearing a hoodie and sweats and even had his glasses on. the glasses alone were enough to make you clench your legs together (which he, of course, felt you do and chuckled in response) because he always looked so damn good in them.

“where are we going?” you ask as he slows to a flashing red light. he checks to make sure nothing is coming before pulling forward.

“the spot,” he answers simply, providing no further explanation. it wasn’t necessary, you knew exactly where he was talking about. in the place of a verbal answer, you squeeze his hand.

it took some time before you got there. trevor pulled his car off the road and took you where he always did. “the spot” was a long-abandoned, wooded area just outside of town. the grass was tall and easy to sneak off into. it was a popular place for parties and hooking up. you likely weren’t the first two to come out here since lockdown had started and you wouldn’t be the last, but thankfully tonight, you were the only.

he kills the engine and looks at you. instead of giving him time to say anything, you surge forward and press your lips to his. just like when you had gotten in his car, the kiss was hungry. full of want, full of need.

“baby, i need you to get in the backseat,” he mumbles against your lips and you comply with a giggle. when you slip between the seats, you notice he had already put the back row of seats down.

you wait for him to join you in the back before smirking as you straddle his hips, “came prepared, huh?”

“couldn’t wait. needed you as soon as possible so i figured that i would save myself some time,” he says, gripping onto your hips as you rock forward against the prominent tent in his pants. “you’re just a tease aren’t you?”

“do you want me to stop?” you raise an eyebrow as you slip your hands under his hoodie and up his chest. he makes a noise and puts his hand on the back of your neck to pull you down. “didn’t think so.”

“cocky,” he mumbles before pressing his lips to yours. you let him indulge himself for a minute before you pull back and start to trail wet kisses down his neck. you find a spot on his neck and bite down, sucking a bruise into the skin. he grunts and slips his hands fully underneath your shirt. his fingers quickly find the lace of your bralette and he groans, “oh my- lace? jesus fucking-”

“just for you,” you pull back and strip off your shirt, throwing it to the side. his eyes rake over your body, taking you in before he sits up. he pulls you impossibly closer, trailing kisses across your collarbone before moving down. he pushes your strap down and his mouth wraps around your nipple. “trev,” you gasp, gripping onto the back of his neck and rocking forward.

with his mouth still working on your chest, his hand slips up your thigh and under the waistband of your shorts. once again, he groans as he feels the lace of your underwear, but he doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand under them and rub over your clit.

he collects some of your arousal on his fingers before pushing them inside, prepping you. your hand grabs onto his wrist at the shock and he pulls back, looking at you with slight concern, “are you okay baby?”

“yeah, trev. i’m-” you try and get your words out, “i’m good. just kind of got used to mine. keep going please.”

“okay baby. just let me know if you need a break or want to stop okay,” he waits for your verbal confirmation before slipping his fingers back in and crooking them. you whine, burying your head in his neck. “that’s my girl. so responsive. did you miss my fingers?”

“yeah,” you mumble against his neck, mouthing at the skin. “mine aren’t the same, aren’t as long. don’t reach like yours.”

“i know. we won’t be doing that again. can’t let my girl go that long without me,” he assures, adding a third while his thumb works at your clit. “let’s get your shorts off, pretty girl. you think you’re ready?”

“can’t wait anymore. need you,” you respond, helping take your shorts and thong off. you go to unclip your bralette, but trevor stops you, asking you to leave it. you help him push his sweatpants down, giggling at his lack of boxers.

“as i said, needed you as soon as- fuck!” he cuts himself off with a groan as you wrap your hand around his member and start to go up and down. “condom’s- wallet.”

“classy,” you mumble as if you weren’t about to have sex in the middle of the night at a well-known hookup spot.

you find his wallet and pull out the condom. you rip it open and roll it down, hovering on top of him. you raise an eyebrow as his hands settle on your waist, “you good?”

“yeah, you?” he asks breathlessly. you nod and press your lips to his as you sink down, swallowing his moans. you sigh as he settles fully inside, thankful to finally be full. “baby, god, you’re so fucking gorgeous. love you so much.”

“how are you cum dumb if you haven’t even cum yet?” you tease against his lips, clenching around him.

he groans, “because i’ve been jacking off to pictures of your tits for about a month now. sue me.”

“and they say that chivalry is dead,” you sigh, raising up and planting your hands on his chest to help with leverage. you raise up and sink back down, finding your pace. trevor was always noisy in bed and this time was no different even though you weren’t actually in bed. you can’t help but chirp him, “what? does that feel good?”

he’s quick to snap open his eyes. he moves his hand from your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze. you gasp and clench around him. “what?” he teases, knowing damn well what he was doing, “does that feel good?”

“fucking- hate- you,” he thrusts between each of your words causing them to be broken and barely comprehensible. he chuckles and forces your head down to kiss him as he continues to meet your thrusts. you hook your fingers in his chain to pull him forward to meet you in the middle as your teeth clash against each other. your tongues quickly find each other and you let him win that battle. it wasn’t long before you knew that both of you were closing in on a release. “i’m-”

“i know baby, me too. together yeah?” he asks and you nod, keeping your foreheads pressed together. just as you suspected, it didn’t take long before you were reaching your highs. he emptied into the condom while you spilled around him with a moan. “so good, baby.” his lips press against your shoulder as you continue to rock forward to ride out your high, “you’re so fucking good baby.”

once you calm down, you finally press a soft kiss to his lips, “that was good, trev. thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me,” he chuckles, helping you off of his lap. he carefully pulls off the condom and ties it off, leaving it to be dealt with later as you both reach around the confined space, collecting your clothes “do you wanna-”

the sound of your phone ringing startles you both. you share a confused look before you reach into the front seat to grab it and answer, “hello?”

“y/n,” your sister’s voice is bored as she speaks, “this is just a courtesy call. mom knows and she’s looking for you.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey imagine #hockey smut #anaheim ducks #my work

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

Okay, I’m not sure if what I was trying to say in my last post was said very well.

I completely understand the tagging situation from the First Wave with the DC fans. That’s discourse that is mostly solved and we can’t do anything about those who are forever gonna be bitter or lazy. I’m not talking about that stuff.

The stuff I want to prevent/limit is the hate that comes after our fandom deliberately. And yes, I know I can’t stop it. None of us can stop bitter, antagonistic people from being bitter and antagonistic. None of us can stop people who just want to be angry.

I’m not talking about stopping them, though.

I’m talking about what we can do to protect ourselves as creators and consumers in this fandom. As people who love and appreciate what the creations and people in this fandom have to offer. In simplistic form, I’m saying we need to learn how to shield ourselves from bullies. And there are methods we can use to make ourselves less of a target to the people who go after us, and methods to cut their attacks off short. None of these methods are fool-proof, but they will work to filter out a good majority of the shit we would otherwise be showered by, like a big umbrella against Assholery. Sure, the wind might still blow some in our face and we might splash in a puddle or two by accident, but at least we aren’t soaked.

So let me list the various things that can help you shield yourself from hate/harassment/antis who might just be out to get you.

1) leave the fandom.

The most effective, but least attractive method possible. This is limited to being a last ditch effort, if things have just gotten too hard to handle. I’m covering it first though, because we have to acknowledge that it is a viable method. If you feel trapped, hated, bullied, I’m sure all of us in this fandom would prefer you take a break and leave us for a while in the sake of your own health and safety then stay where you are miserable. This is less of a problem for us though, because mostly this option is gonna be for fandoms where the discourse and attacks are internal. Maribat is largely a peaceful and supportive/healthy environment once you’re inside our little bubble, the main discourse comes from outside in. So let’s focus on the main point of this post— how to keep our bubble from popping.

2) Make it apparent right away that you are Unapologetic.

Whenever you post content or are approached by someone about the topic of your fandom, don’t you DARE ever apologize for liking what you like or posting unproblematic content. You need to make it clear right off the bat that you are not gonna be swayed, bullied, or shamed out of your fandom. Stand with pride and make it clear, but don’t be verbose about it. A simple “Don’t like, don’t read” is classic but sometimes if you’re posting/talking during a more confrontational period of the fandom, you need to up your game to reflect that. The funny thing is, people can easily be intimidated by swearing if it isn’t directed at them or clearly antagonistic. If you’re swearing in a joking, casual or even in a manner that shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously, people will usually avoid picking fights with you. For this, my favorite lines to use on my work include;

“Don’t like, I don’t fucking care. I fell down the rabbit hole.”

“Don’t bother reading if you’re not into this, this shit bitch-slapped me and dragged me along on it’s adventure.”

“I’m addicted to this fandom, don’t bother trying to save me. If it bothers you, I don’t give a fuck. Save yourselves.”

3) Don’t approach or interact

Unless someone comes at you first, never try to persuade someone away from hating us. That just makes you a target in an empty field, for the vultures to surround and gang up on. If someone approaches you with provocative but not overly insulting or intelligent language— I.e; trying to start a fight, vague insults not always relating to the fandom itself, trying to insult your character/judgement— do not respond. Delete the message, block the account, and surround yourself with fluffy good stuff to forget the wanna-be harasser. These people are often not brave enough to outright start a fight, and want you to get defensive first so they know the weak points in your armor to exploit. Defensive statements declare your own insecurities, don’t get defensive. It gives them a way to win without having to defend themselves or feel vulnerable— it’s like exploiting type differences in Pokémon. You wait for an unfamiliar Pokémon to expose it’s type, then snipe it with the moves it’s weak to. Then, you have a near sure-fire win even with under leveled Pokémon on your team.

Don’t be a proud Infernape that gets sniped by a weak-ass level 5 Piplup. We’re strong, don’t show them the chinks in our armor.

4) Have a support network. Even if they don’t know they are your support network.

The fandom as a whole serves this purpose, and this is mostly gonna be a tactic you use when the discourse is inside the fandom, but there can be uses for this in discourse from outside the fandom as well. If someone tries to act like they like your story/art “but...” they passive aggressively state things they “would prefer” or they try to make it sound like you made stupid mistakes (a tactic to make you insecure about yourself) instead of kindly pointing out errors or offering constructive criticism (ex: “you know you put your trigger list somewhere where it’s useless right? Love your story though.)—THESE ARE ALL PROVOCATIONS. They are trying to make you insecure so that you change things about yourself, your work, or jump through hoops to try to “make it up” to them when you did nothing wrong and there are no problems to fix. Do not fall for it! Instead, politely as possible, bring the issue into a public space where you feel safe/trust the people in that space to keep the bullshit from escalating. For me, I straight up explain my reasoning for the placement of my trigger list as if I’m advertising a particularly boring but important product that I’m selling, then offer places for them to bring the issue into a discussion with others. I send them to a discoed group or right here to my tumblr, and I immediately make the issue into a big discussion (do YOU think there is anything to change? Let’s ALL talk about it) so that I am no longer isolated and easy for them to harass. They might refuse to join the discussion and further try to pressure you, but do not cave. Merely say that a public discussion has been started, and if they are actually, legitimately concerned about the way you do things then they can debate it in a public setting. This way, you have back up. 9/10 people who try to target you this way will back off and never enter the conversation you started.

5) Do not fight back.

This sounds counterintuitive, but a lot of the time once discourse gets this bad, arguing/defending/ trying to prove your point only fuels their rage more. I have found that people hate very little in this world more than they hate being wrong. And people who hate being wrong will fight to the bitter death about their opinions, no matter how invalid or hurtful they are, in the favor of their blissful ignorance. Remove yourself from harmful discussions or those that seem to be going in circles as soon as possible, and try to surround yourself in your support group. Never let people make you feel stupid, your opinions illegitimate, or your likes/dislikes invalid or evil.

6) Try to learn how to recognize bullies in disguise

It’s too much for me to try to cover here, but you need to PLEASE look into how to spot gaslighting. Tactics of gaslighting are often used to attack others and try to make them feel like their own opinions are invalid or their mindset untrustworthy. People will often approach you in the guise of friendship/support/ “I am not into this, but...” and while this is not always a red flag, we have to keep our eyes open for any signs of this person or their approach being rooted in anything other than legitimate curiosity or kindness. Not all suggestions that say they are out of concern actually ARE. Keep an eye out for warning signs, and cut off interaction once things seem like they may lead to an argument or you being in a vulnerable position if you continue interacting.

(Brief mention of s**cide and threats in the section below)

7) If all else fails, BLOCK THEM.

No hesitation, we don’t need this shit. They make a second account? Block that too. Don’t respond, only take screenshots or reblog if it is directly harmful information that can/should be documented (words that encourage suicide, threats, insults that seem a little too specific for comfort) and give the evidence to someone you trust to look out for you. A therapist, a family member, or even the authorities if you deem that necessary. Just don’t handle it alone.

We are not responsible for other people’s actions, opinions, or anger. Take the steps to protect yourself instead of trying to reconcile. Sometimes, reconciliation isn’t an option. Both parties have to be willing to reconcile, and it is clear they have nothing in mind but hurting us. So raise your shields and protect yourself and your friends, we’re not gonna lose a war to petty jerks.

#tw: harassment #bully prevention #bullying prevention #steps to protect yourself #maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc

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wolveria · 4 years

Text

Feedback Loop

Pairing: Sixty x Reader

Summary: After breaking things off with Sixty, he shows up on your doorstep and reveals a side of himself that shakes you to your core.

Prompt: For @uh-kitty-got-wet ‘s birthday!! Happy birthday!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Explicit sexual content, Happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

AO3

(Screenshots from @vrtuellereality on IG)

You were working at your terminal, oblivious to the low, ever-present murmur of the bullpen when a shadow darkened your desk. Your head jerked up, and for a moment you thought it was him.

It wasn’t. It was only Connor, though the way he crookedly smiled at you was certainly different.

“Hey, Con,” you said, pulling your hands off the keyboard. “Something I can help you with?”

He sometimes went to you for questions about a case, or just to say hi and see how you were doing, but he seemed to have something different in mind.

“Not exactly.” He sat on the corner of your desk, a lot like how he did with Hank, but his expression was decidedly more mischievous. “I just wanted to tell you that you look nice today.”

“Nice?” You blinked like the bewildered creature you were.

“Very nice.”

His smile grew, and oh dear. Oh dear.

“Are you free this weekend?” He looked down at the hands clasped in his lap and paused, as if his confidence was flagging. “I mean… it’s been a while since we’ve socialized outside of work. Ever since…”

Ah, yes. Ever since The Incident everyone was too polite to talk about. You were grateful for that, because it wasn’t anyone’s business, and the sooner you moved on the better.

“Yeah, I know.” You smiled a little. “You’re right. I’ve missed you, Connor.”

Now it was Connor’s turn to fluster, his LED spinning yellow as a pink flush crept on his cheeks.

“I—yes.” He cleared his throat unnecessarily, and you half-expected him to reach up to adjust his tie. “I’ll come by your place at 8 o’clock this Friday. Is that all right?”

“Sounds perfect.” Your smile grew, and you patted his knee. “Can’t wait.”

Connor looked like he might short-circuit at the touch, but instead he peeled off your desk, gave you an awkward little smile, and hurried away at a stiff, nervous gait. You would have laughed, but that would have been unkind; Connor was doing his best, even if he was still a goofball.

You watched his retreat, and another pair of brown eyes caught your attention. They stared at you with a dark, heated intensity. You quickly turned away and returned to your work, face hot and heart thundering like a jackhammer. You couldn’t focus on your work after that, and it was just as well, because another shadow loomed over your desk. This one much more foreboding.

“What was that?” spoke a voice that sounded just like Connor’s with a tone that couldn’t have been more different.

You ignored it. Even though your heart raced and you felt like you were suffocating, you ignored it. It was the only way to make him go away. Go back to pretending you didn’t exist, something he’d become an expert in the last few weeks.

“Really?” the voice sneered. “You’re going to ignore me after so blatantly flirting with my brother—“

You jerked your chair around and glared up at the android ruining your day. Sixty leaned against your desk where Connor had been a few minutes earlier, arms crossed over his chest as he peered down his nose at you.

“That’s none of your business,” you snapped, hating how good his long legs looked, one crossed casually over the other. While Connor was still awkward in body language, Sixty had mastered it to an unfair degree. “And I wasn’t flirting.”

“Yes, you were.” He leaned forward, giving you a nice view of his throat with the top button undone. “You get this shy little smile on your face, pretending your bashful while your eyes wander to places they shouldn’t.”

You rose to your feet, turning away from him to grab your purse. You’d forgotten to take a lunch, and right now was as good a time as any. Anything to get away from the android’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Your jealousy is not my problem,” you said, but when you tried to walk past him, he blocked your path. Sixty glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and then he pushed into your space, trapping you there with his hands on either side of you against the desk.

“Jealousy? I’m simply stating the truth.” He was too close, his breath hot on your lips, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Or did you forget I know what you look like when you want to spread your legs?”

You shoved him, hard. Perhaps too hard. You didn’t mean for him to stumble back so he lost his balance and hit the ground on his ass. You didn’t even know it was possible to catch him off-guard like that, being the advanced prototype that he was.

But you had. And for a split second, his LED was solid red and his expression was hurt. It passed so quickly it could have been wishful thinking, but you didn’t wait around to find out. With every other officer in the bullpen staring after you, you quickly left the station, grimacing as you wiped at your stinging eyes.

You’d email Fowler later to let him know you weren’t feeling good and you’d be gone the rest of the day. And while you were at it, maybe you could file for a transfer.

***

The email to the captain wasn’t a total lie. You felt like absolute shit as you lay bundled up on your couch, wallowing in misery and instant noodles. It was snowing outside fairly heavily, and you didn’t plan on going anywhere. Maybe for a while. You had vacation days saved up, and it might be a good idea to disappear until you could show your face in the station. What a humiliating day.

Connor would miss you, and so would Hank, but that wasn’t a good enough reason to stick around when he was always there. You sensed his dark eyes following you, but whenever you turned to look, Sixty always had his attention elsewhere, pretending you didn’t exist.

It hurt so damn bad even though you were the one who left him. You’d been miserable, Sixty’s ego always coming before your relationship, and eventually you’d had enough. Human or android, you wouldn’t put up with that shit from anyone.

But a part of you had hoped, maybe, he would try to be better. Make an effort to get you back. Instead, he’d given you the cold shoulder and acted as if you were a stranger, only for you to swear he was watching your every move like a hawk. Today seemed to prove that theory, and it was driving you crazy. Something had to give, and you knew your sanity would break far sooner than Sixty’s love of control.

When the doorbell rang, you almost ignored it, but your phone informed you it was half past eight. Maybe it was Connor, a few days early but worried when he heard about your confrontation with his brother. You had little doubt it would be the gossip of the bullpen for hours.

That thought finally dragged you off the couch and to the front door, where you opened it and for a moment thought it was Connor.

But you knew them both well enough by now to recognize the subtle differences. His posture, while stiff and uneasy, was still fluid enough to tell you it was Sixty.

Still, his expression was definitely un-Sixty-like. Half-melted snowflakes darkened his hair, his skin glistened in the hallway lights, and the shoulders of his jacket were damp. He looked like he’d been out in the storm for a while, and since he was deviant, he was probably cold and uncomfortable.

“Before you slam the door in my face,” he began, tone weary, “there’s something I want to say.”

“What do you want?” You maintained your grip on the door, the urge to shut it in his face very strong.

He released a breath, gazed down at his shoes, and mumbled, “Can I come in?”

You stared at him for a good long moment, debated the pros and cons of letting Sixty back into your apartment.

Pros: maybe he actually had something worthwhile to say.

Cons: It was Sixty.

“Fine.” You opened the door wider, allowing him entrance. “But only for a few minutes.”

His brows lifted in surprise.

“A few minutes are all I need.” The words were arrogant but his tone wasn’t, and he almost seemed nervous as he slipped past you over the threshold. That was strange. Sixty always covered his self-doubts with displays of bravado. That was kind of his thing.

But his confidence still hadn’t returned after you shut the door and followed him to the living room. He just stood there, hands hovering as if he didn’t know what to do with them, until he finally shoved them in his pockets. Over the white dress shirt he always wore was a windbreaker you’d bought for him months ago. You’d been worried the freezing temperatures would harm his biocomponents, and he’d laughed off your concern. He’d still kept it though, and the navy fabric went very well with his tight, dark wash jeans.

It wasn’t fair.

You stood a short distance away, arms crossed over your stomach in a gesture that was more protective than it was defensive. Seeing him here, in your house, it brought back so many memories and emotions you’d managed to lock away since you kicked him out. Now it was threatening to spill out all over again, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. But you didn’t.

“Well?” you said, sharper than you meant to be. “What did you want to talk about?”

Sixty stared at the ceiling as if he’d find answers there. Or maybe he just didn’t want to look at you.

“I’m not… good at this,” he finally said. “I don’t know how to choose the right words and I’m pretty sure I’m going to make shit worse. But Hank said if I didn’t stop being a jackass and come talk to you—”

You blinked and walked around him to get a better look at his face.

“Hank? You’re here because Hank told you to?”

“No! I—“ He met your eye, his expression pinched and upset. His LED was bright yellow, but you didn’t need to see it to know he was struggling. “I’m here because I…”

He turned away from you but not fast enough for you to miss the flash of red.

“Six?” you asked, softer than the tone you’d used with him lately. “What’s going on?”

Moving toward him when he didn’t answer, your hand slightly trembled as you reached out and rested your fingers on his arm.

He whirled around, grabbed you by the shoulders, and pulled you hard against his chest. You gasped, startled and frozen, but Sixty only hugged you tight, burying his face against your hair.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he choked out. “I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. I’m sorry I sabotaged our relationship. And I’m sorry I made you so miserable that you had to leave.”

You didn’t move, couldn’t even breath as Sixty continued to tremble around you, holding on as if you were a lifeline. He’d never acted this way before, emotionally vulnerable and exposed. Almost… afraid? Where was the confident, arrogant android that had broken your heart?

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said so softly you could barely hear it. “I can’t lose you. I would rather feel nothing at all, go back to being a machine. I don’t want to be alive if this is what living feels like.”

“Six…”

That was all you said, your little nickname for him. Created at first to annoy and antagonize him, until it became a pet name, and then finally a term of endearment.

“I’m not saying this… to make you feel sorry for me.”

He didn’t need to breathe, but warm puffs of air tickled your throat. It was comforting and familiar.

“I’m not going to trick and manipulate you, even though that’s what I was designed to do. I just... had to see you one last time. Tell you it wasn’t your fault. And… apologize. For all the shit I did. I thought ignoring you would make it better. Make this-this feeling go away. It didn’t. I… fucked up.”

You slowly raised your arms and wrapped them around his waist, returning the hug, wanting to touch him, be close to him again despite the warning signs. Or maybe because of them. With Sixty, they came with the territory.

And the fact was, he was hurting. You were too. The way you’d been ignoring each other was pure misery, and you’d had no idea it had negatively affected him too.

You slowly pulled away, preparing yourself to tell him that while his apology was a big step in the right direction, it would take more than words to fix the damage he’d done.

But the words died in your throat. His eyes were large and glassy, brows turned up in worry or sadness, as if he was bracing himself for your rejection. It was unbelievably raw, and you’d had no idea Sixty could even make that expression.

Like a dam breaking behind flooding waters, you surged forward, capturing his lips with yours. He made a surprised sound, red cycling out of the corner of your vision before you closed your eyes. You fisted his jacket in your hands and pulled so he was flush against you.

Sixty was many things. Arrogant, haughty, with an ego the size of CyberLife Tower. But one thing he could never do was deny you, and with the hard bulge shoved against your hip, you knew he didn’t want to.

Sixty lifted you up, never breaking the kiss as he wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to your bedroom, somehow without looking where he was going. Probably used his goddamn X-ray scanners.

He followed you down onto the bed, barely letting you draw breath as he lifted off your shirt and fumbled at your pants. Your bra was already gone, having been removed in preparation for your night in, and he hungrily groaned as he kissed down your collarbone to your chest.

You ran your hands through his soft hair, ruining his immaculate style, but he didn’t even notice as he finally tugged off your pants. His hands were everywhere, running along your stomach, your hips, down your legs as he yanked them open and settled between them. He was still completely dressed and you were almost naked.

Fingers fumbling, you tugged down his jacket zipper and tried to pull it off his shoulders, but Sixty was making things difficult, slowly rolling his hips against yours, torturing you.

“Damnit, Sixty,” you cursed, gasping when he nipped at your shoulder. He dipped his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear and practically purred at what he found.

“This all for me, sweetheart?”

In lieu of responding, you moaned and thrust your pelvis against his hand, but he only chuckled and held your hip down with his other hand.

“Now, now.” He pulled his head up to smirk at you. The loose curl of hair hung across his forehead, giving him an especially devilish look. “I want to hear you say it.”

Sixty loved being in control. He got off on the sense of power, and you knew part of that had to do with the fact he’d had none at the beginning of his short life. No power, no control, no choice. Just a thing to be used and thrown away.

Well. You’d have to show him that sometimes, losing control and being under someone else’s power could be a thrilling thing.

You grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand out of your underwear, earning you a surprised, disappointed expression. You almost smiled, but that would have ruined the ruse.

Maintaining eye contact, you took his long fingers, glistening with your juices, and popped two of them into your mouth. You closed your eyes partway and groaned around his fingers, your tongue licking up your own slick from the sensitive pads of his digits.

Sixty’s pupils went fully blown, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, and when his LED shifted from yellow to red, your plan had worked. He rose off the mattress where he’d been kneeling and pulled off his jacket and shirt, giving you a full view of his pale, lightly muscled torso.

Next came off the shoes and jeans, yanked off clumsy in his haste, and you might have teased him if not for the large cock that sprang out of his pants, hard and flushed.

Sixty didn’t give you time to admire it; he grabbed you by the hips and dragged you to the edge of the bed. He tugged off your underwear, rubbed the head of his cock against your opening to make sure you were wet enough, and then pushed.

Giving you no time to prepare, you arched your back and struggled to breathe, fisting the sheets as he kept going. He was thick, and long, and the people who had designed him had apparently decided he needed to be well-endowed. Whatever the reason, you were sure enjoying the fruits of their labor.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Sixty.”

He didn’t laugh or even make a snide comment. You weren’t sure if he was even breathing, his brow creased in concentration as he gripped you tight, not stopping until he was fully embedded within your slick heat.

Only then were you able to fill your lungs, and then the next breath of air was cut off as he kissed you, hungrily and deep, his tongue plunging into your mouth as his cock twitched inside you. You moaned, digging your nails into his back, not afraid you would hurt him as you dug deep and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Normally, Sixty liked to draw out the foreplay, exploring all the ways he could take you apart. But not this time. It was like he couldn’t wait, too impatient and greedy as he began to move, hips jolting against yours as he set a hard pace.

You hadn’t been touched like this in weeks, not even by your own hand, and each thrust was a burst of sparks behind your eyelids. You broke the kiss and clung to him for dear life, whimpering when his lips attached to your neck, sucking mercilessly. You were going to have bruises all over you tomorrow for everyone to see, and you loved it. You wanted Sixty to make you his, to never leave you in a cold, empty bed ever again.

You groaned his name, tried to meet his hips as he set a brutal pace, but he had your thighs trapped open as he fucked you from the edge of the bed. You were getting close but you weren’t quite there yet; Sixty must have known, because he gripped your hips and pulled them up so he could thrust even deeper.

Tears pricked in your eyes as he hit your sensitive spot over and over, driving the pressure in your pelvis to new heights. You were babbling nonsense, a mixture of his name and pleas for him to never leave again. Sixty responded with promises that he wouldn’t while peppering desperate kisses all over your face and neck.

And then he said three words he’d never said before, low and throaty and right into your ear, and you came undone with tears running down your face and a cry on your lips. The pleasure was so intense you weren’t sure when you came down from it, only that he fucked you straight through your orgasm without stopping.

You squirmed and whimpered, oversensitive, and you moaned his name again and again, not sure what you were asking for. He snapped his hips forward and choked out a groan, burying his face into your neck as he throbbed deep inside you.

Floating blissfully, you sighed and petted his hair, pressing a kiss to his red LED and watching as it slowly downgraded to yellow and finally blue. Sixty turned his head away from you as he panted, his breath too uncomfortably hot for human skin as he attempted to cool his internal components.

Without a word he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth. He seemed almost shy as he cleaned you up, not speaking until he was done cleaning himself up as well.

“I suppose… I should go,” he said, avoiding your eye as he went to retrieve his pants. You stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“You’re staying right here.” You tugged him back toward the bed and pulled back the covers. He didn’t get inside, his frown unsure. “Please?”

He didn’t move, chewing the inside of his cheek, and when you feared he might actually leave Sixty slid under the covers and pulled you in close. You hummed contentedly as you leaned your cheek against his chest.

“Plus,” you said with a smirk, “we still need to talk.”

Sixty groaned.

“Ugh. Talking.”

“Yes, talking.” You poked his side. “Babbling while you dick me down, doesn’t count.”

“Sure it does. I meant everything I said during the dick-talk.”

You ignored his attempt at a joke and pulled back to look at him.

“Everything?”

Sixty looked away, pressing his lips together into a thin line, but the adorable blush on his cheeks was answer enough.

“You love me,” you said, grinning. Sixty tsked and refused to meet your eye. “You really, really love me.”

Grumbling, he turned his head into the pillow. You didn’t know his face could even turn that shade of red. You grinned and rained down kisses on his exposed neck, merciless in your revenge.

“Sixty’s in love,” you sang, your fingers finding the spot just beneath his thirium pump regulator where he was ticklish. “Sixty wants to kiss me.”

“Shut up, no I don’t.” The effect of his words were lost by the fact he whined them into the pillow, drawing his limbs up so you couldn’t reach his tickling spots.

“You love me and you want to kiss me.”

“I-no-“ His voice warbled, glitchy with embarrassment, and this time you did laugh.

You also decided to grant him a reprieve and stopped tickling him, instead flopping half on top of him, taking advantage of the fact he’d curled into a ball. You could definitely get used to a softer, bashful Sixty, a side of him no one else got to see.

“So…” He cleared his throat like the suddenly awkward android he was. “Are you still going to see Connor on Friday?”

You broke into a wide smile. Oh, this was too delicious.

“What do you mean?” you asked, drawing a circle on his chest, dangerously close to the tickling spot of his regulator. “Do you think something would happen if I did?”

He managed to keep his expression closed, but the blaring red ring was a dead giveaway. You smiled and kissed him on the cheek, laughing when he made a face.

“You really are jealous.”

“I’m not—“

“Yes, I’m going to hang out with Connor. Because he’s my friend and I adore him. But that’s all it is, Six. Connor is not your replacement.”

That was his exact fear, and you knew that, because you knew him as intimately as you knew yourself.

He took a slow, steadying breath, and his LED finally cooled to a slow blue. You buried your face in his neck, smiling at first, and then letting the full weight of everything settle on your shoulders.

“I really missed you,” you said, suddenly quite serious. “I want you to stay. Not just for tonight.”

Sixty slowly uncurled his arms and looked up at you out of the corner of his eye. Hopeful but with a hint of wariness. You understood he had abandonment issues. His baggage with Connor and Hank, the manipulation by Amanda. He was terrified of letting people get close, and he compensated by being an insufferable jerk.

It was moments like these that revealed it was all a set of armor, made to protect him from being hurt again. It was one of the things you had to show him about living: being hurt was inevitable, but so was being loved, if he was willing to let it happen.

“I missed you too,” he said softly. The crooked little smile he gave was charming but also fragile. “And… I want to come home.”

He lifted his arm so you could snuggle back against his chest, and you did, breathing in that faint, silicone scent you associated with androids. It was one that used to make you happy, and lately had just brought you pain. You didn’t want to feel like that ever again.

“It’s going to take work. Real work,” you said. “We can’t just fuck our way out of it.”

His lips formed into a grin against your temple.

“We could always try.”

“Sixty.”

“Fine. Talk first, fuck you into a crying mess after.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, trying to pass off the sudden warmth between your legs as mild annoyance. Sixty could read you even without a scanner, so there was little doubt he knew the effect he had on you.

“And no more getting jealous of Connor.”

He grumbled like a puppy having his favorite toy taken away.

“And,” you raised your voice to be heard over his pouting, “you move back in immediately.”

Sixty flipped you on to your back, hovering above you with a grin like a shark’s.

“I agree to your terms. Shall we seal the deal?”

You nodded, unsure how he planned to do that. You were not disappointed when he leaned down and pressed his lips warmly to yours, one hand on your cheek while the other crept down your hip. Sixty smirked against your mouth as he dragged the tip of his cock against your entrance.

The bastard was insatiable, but at the end of the day, he was no one’s bastard but yours.

#detroit become human #sixty x reader #sixty #rk800-60 #rk800-60 x reader #my fanfiction #my writing #sixty being soft #sixty has an emotion and handles it about as well as expected #connor tries his best #maybe next time concon #big shout out to vrtuelle for the amazing screenshots

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unexpected-nightview · 3 years

Text

Spoiler-ish (technically the screenwriter backtracking and trying to fix that clownery)

Okay just to keep track of everything : post by the screenwriter + pic with translation about said post + translated text (via google bc I don’t speak chinese...) + original text all under the cut.

1)Translation

"Hate Your Lord Is Not Like Jiang Lou Yue" Finale 37-1 At the entrance of Yuzhitang Jiang Yuelou stands on the opposite side of the street, going back and forth across the street The flow of people and the glass windows of Yu Zhitang, watching the glass After Chen Yuzhi, the corners of his mouth rose unconsciously. 37-2 Within days of Yu Zhitang Chen Yuzhi packed the things on the table, ready to hit kind. Chen Yuzhi noticed a scorching gaze, Lifting his gaze, it was Jiangyue Tower. Jiang Yuelou raised an eyebrow at him triumphantly and gave him one Bright laugh. Chen Yuzhi smiled back and took off the white The lab coat, walked towards the door. 37-3 Outside the entrance of Yuzhitang Chen Yuzhi locked the door, Jiang Yuelou crossed the street Come. Chen Yuzhi; Didn't you say that the police station was handed over in the morning? Do you have a lot of work and are you busy? Jiang Yuelou: No matter how busy you are, you have to eat. Besides, Today's special day, Lantern Festival, not with me Over? Chen Yuzhi turned around and smiled gently: OK, together Over. 37-4 Jingcheng Street Niwai Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi walked along the street, talking and laughing With. The people on both sides of the street, some are cooking, some Playing chess, some are drinking tea, and some are living and working in peace and contentment. Look like. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi comforted and looked at each other laugh. Jiang Yuelou: Our efforts were not in vain, they Finally can live a stable life. Chen Yuzhi: Yeah, finally, everything is worth it From time to time, someone greeted the two. Passerby: Doctor Chen! Passer-by: Section Chief Jiang! Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi nodded in response with a smile. Passers-by greeted warmly: Chief Jiang, come to the house for soup Round, we made it ourselves, don't dislike it. Jiang Yuelou laughed: No, we are also going to go back do. Chen Yuzhi was stunned, and after passers-by walked away, he asked: Are you planning to do it yourself? Jiang Yuelou; otherwise? Chen Yuzhi: I thought you meant to go to the house at the door Kunton stalls, her family will cook some glutinous rice balls every day Applicable. Jiangyuelou: Do it yourself, it has a special flavor. Smile of Chen Yuzhi: Okay, listen to you. The two talked and laughed and walked. Not far ahead, A man in a rickshaw driver's clothes raised his eyes slightly The line turned out to be Zhan Junbai who escaped from the dead. Zhan Junbai raised his gaze and looked at it with hatred. From a subjective perspective, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi are getting closer Up. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi didn't realize it was coming Danger, chatting. Jiang Yuelou: It’s been a long time since I rode a horse. This weekend, Go for horse racing? Chen Yuzhixiao: This time, I will definitely beat you. Jiang Yuelou is full of confidence: give it a try. While they were talking, the two had already arrived in front of Zhan Junbai. Zhan Junbai suddenly held a gun and shot at Jiangyuelou. He It is the one that was given to Yutangchun and then returned The gun in his own hand. Chen Yuzhi didn't hesitate to rush to block Jiangyue Tower In front of him, the bullet shot into Chen Yuzhi's heart. Jiangyuelou Want to block the future. Jiang Yuelou's unbelievable look, hold it fast with one hand Chen Yuzhi, who was about to fall, drew his spear without hesitation and charged Zhuan Junbai shot. The people scattered and fled. Zhan Junbai was shot, his body was shocked, crazy and terrifying Smiling and falling to the ground, he looked at Jiang Yuelou proudly. He felt no physical pain, he was immersed in revenge In pleasure. A string of beads on his hand broke and fell The ground, scattered around, that is Yutangchun's hand when he was alive Beaded. Zhan Jun white grinning smile: Jiang Yuelou, what I lost, you I can't get it either. He died, more painful than your death Right? Jiang Yuelou didn't care about Zhanjun Bai, nervously Pulling off Chen Yuzhi's jacket, he saw the bullet shooting through the inside The armor is almost penetrated, severely changed Fortunately, it did not hurt the body. Jiang Yuelou is anxious and worried: how are you, where did you hurt Is it there? Chen Yuzhi patted Jiang Yuelou's hand comfortably: I didn't thing. Jiang Yuelou annoyed Chen Yu's eyes: Both of us Go back and calculate! Zhan Junbai saw that Chen Yuzhi was not injured, and he was shocked. Unbelievable look; how is this possible?! Jiang Yuelou turned and walked towards Zhan Junbai, staring at him He: I've already gotten it right, you won't let it go, from I have been waiting since the day you fled, waiting for you come back. As Jiang Yuelou said, he opened his coat, and he did it too Protection: Zhan Junbai, I am different from you, you lose Go, I will never lose. Jiang Yuelou said, glanced at Chen Yuzhi, the two were right Depending on. Zhan Junbai was defeated and looked desperate. Jiang Yuelou raised his gun again, preparing to end Zhanjun White. Zhan Junbai moved his eyes from Jiangyue Tower to Chen Yuzhi, supporting With one last breath: Dr. Chen, can Can't help me Busy? Chen Yuzhi looked at him coldly: I won't help you intercede Yes, you deserve it. Zhan Junbai; it's not this busy...cough cough... Zhan Jun white mouth and more and more blood surges in the wound Out, dyed red beads scattered on the ground, like red beans. Zhan Junbai: Help me and him, be buried together... Chen Yuzhi's accident: You didn't sink him into the crab pond? Zhan Junbai smiled: I really sink him, how can I give up Got. If you don't say this, how can you hold the following people. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi looked at each other, Chen Yuzhibai Mixed feelings. Chen Yuzhi: Where is he buried? Zhan Junbai; Chengdong. Xinglinli. Chen Yuzhi remembered Yutangchun telling that he liked it before he was alive Xinglin in the east of the city, I want to survive the spring and be buried in Xinglin One scene. Zhan Junbai; help me, okay... Chen Yuzhi shook his head: He was tortured because of you during his lifetime. After death, I definitely don’t want to have anything with you Ge. The only pleading look in Zhan Junbai's life; please You... Dr. Chen, please... Chen Yuzhi did not hesitate, turned and walked towards Jiang Yue floor. Jiang Yuelou raised the muzzle and ended Zhan Junbai's Raw. The picture is getting darker. 37-5 Jiangyuelou's home at night The door opened, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi came in. Jiang Yuelou's complexion is not very good, he is angry, heavy Sitting on the sofa. Chen Yuzhi was a little guilty, took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves Zi: What about making glutinous rice balls? I'll prepare them. Jiang Yuelou stared at him, did not speak, his eyes followed Chen I walked around. Chen Yuzhi looked back: Don't do it now? Jiang Yuelou got up and strode towards Chen Yuzhi: What to do What do you do, settle the account! Chen Yuzhi: I was not injured... Jiang Yuelou is angry; this is a fluke, what if?! Me The armor is prepared for you to protect yourself, not for Let you save people! Chen Yuzhi: But that's you... Jiang Yuelou is fierce: No one can do it! Besides, I'm not without it, I need you to rush out to protect me Did you know that I was almost scared to death.. Chen Yuzhi: Sorry, I was in a hurry, I forgot Up. Jiang Yuelou was stunned: Did you forget about the armor? Chen Yuzhi: It was too late to think too much... Jiang Yuelou suddenly felt very heartfelt, touched and touched. Fear, his fierce face instantly softened, and he raised his hand Gave Chen Yuzhi a deep hug. Jiang Yuelou whispered: Yu Zhi, in my life, I don't Fortunately...but how lucky it is to meet you. Chen Yuzhi responded in a low voice: Me too, Yuelou. How lucky to meet you... For a moment, Jiang Yuelou let go and pushed Chen Yuzhi towards kitchen. Chen Yuzhi: What? Jiang Yuelou: Make glutinous rice balls! 37-6 black screen subtitles: one year later 37-7 A small courtyard in a countryside day (faint) inside/outside The dusk is groggy. With the door open, you can see that Chen Keying is holding a small Play freely in the hall. In the courtyard, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi are sitting on a stone table before. There are some dried herbs on the table, Chen Yuzhi Pulling herbs. Jiang Yuelou held a newspaper in her hand, Newspaper headlines, Jin Dacheng became director, Jing Chengtai level. Jiang Yuelou smiled, put down the newspaper, picked up the tea cup, Make tea comfortably. Jiang Yuelou took a sip of hot tea and looked at Chen Yu Zhi: Alright, it's been an afternoon, and tomorrow Chen Yuzhi laughs: a few days later is the rainy season, so you have to take advantage of the sky Okay, just dry it thoroughly. Jiang Yuelou handed a cup of hot tea: no hurry at this time and a half Engrave, take a sip of tea slowly. Chen Yuzhi raised his hand to indicate, his slender fingers were touched Herb sap stained with emerald color. Jiang Yuelou simply handed the cup over, Chen Yuzhi low Head, took a few sips of water with Jiang Yuelou's hand. Jiang Yuelou: I have found the location of the clinic, what do I need Please leave the list empty, let's go buy it together. Chen Yuzhi raised his head and looked at Jiang Yuelou, making a cunning point Laughter: Everything else is easy to say, there is only one thing, I'm afraid it is It's not easy to buy. Jiang Yuelou: What is it? Come and listen. Chen Yuzhi: The original Yuzhitang plaque is pretty good Yes, it's a pity that I forgot to bring it when I moved. Jiang Yuelou: This is easy to handle, I will solve it. Chen Yuzhi laughed: What, the engraver of Yuelou, once Is it ripe for the second time? Jiang Yuelou froze for a while, reacted, you all know Up? Chen Yuzhi: Yes. Jiang Yuelou: When did it happen? Smile of Chen Yu: Secret. Jiang Yuelou raised her eyebrows: Secret? Then don't blame me Up. Jiang Yuelou said, got up, went to the hut and dragged out A plaque, carefully wrapped in cloth, Jiangyue Tower Raise your hand, the cloth flutters, revealing Yu Zhitang below Plaque. Chen Yuzhi laughed blankly. Jiang Yuelou smiled proudly. In the distance, the setting sun, crimson and yellow cross Jiang Yuelou stared into the distance, feeling: Yu Zhi, the sun It's down. Chen Yuzhi raised his eyes and looked along the Jiangyue Tower Go, the dusk is bleak. Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yuzhi stared at each other, tacitly agreeing Laugh, all affectionate, all affection, everything is silent in. The silhouette in the sunset gradually merged. --End of the whole play- Extraordinary ending Green poplar smoke is light outside, red apricot branches spring Noisy. In the Xinglin in the east of the city, one is well repaired But there is no tomb with a stele. In front of the tombstone, put some fresh Bouquets and memorial supplies. The camera pulls up, from the feet up, Jiang Yuelou and Chen Yu 之入画. The two stood side by side in front of the tombstone, looking at jade Tang Chun's tomb is silently missed. Flashback, the scene before Zhan Junbai died. Chen Yuzhi: Where is he buried? Zhan Junbai; Chengdong. Xinglin Li.. Keke (kee Blood). I didn’t engrave the stele, in case someone knows the body Fortunately, he was troubled by me, and he couldn't be peaceful after death. The flashback is over. Chen Yuzhi: I did not agree to his request, if you You know Izumi, surely he is unwilling, right? No one answered, the wind blows the flowers. Jiang Yuelou comfortably embraced Chen Yuzhi and rubbed twice Lower the neck; if you really promise to help him be buried together, That's what insulted boss Yu. Now it's good Up. Jiang Yuelou said, let go of Chen Yuzhi, and looked back The cliff not far away. On the cliff, there is no one Lonely grave with lettering. Because of the terrain, the lone tomb can be In order to see the Xinglin and Yutangchun tombs under the mountain, and The lone tomb is always in the back of Yutangchun's tomb, no Will get a glimmer of light. Chen Yuzhi looked back, feeling complicated, sighing sound. Jiang Yuelou; gone, let's go home for the rest. The setting sun stained the branches and willows of Xinglin, Jiangyuelou, Chen Yu Zhi crosses the Xinglin side by side, and the rest of the discussion spreads from time to time Come. Chen Yuzhi: Yuelou, you said, people have an afterlife ? Jiang Yuelou took a deep look at Chen Yuzhi: I don't know Tao, but I hope there is. Chen Yuzhi laughed; even if he had, he drank Meng Po soup, Probably also met and did not know each other. Jiang Yuelou: Leave a secret sign, how about? If you meet again See, you won’t miss it. Chen Yuzhi ridiculed: Isn't that necessary for generations to come Met you guy? Jiang Yuelou jealous: Listening to these words, it seems not very willing? Chen Yuzhi: If it were you, I would be willing. Jiang Yuelou was deeply moved, and the two smiled at each other. The shadow disappeared in the depths of the apricot forest. The mountain scenery is steep, Zhan Junbai stands on the cliff, but He didn't feel cold, he was just cold in his heart. Zhan Junbai stared deeply at a touch of the apricot forest ahead Back, his eyes cleared and disappeared. Zhan Junbai murmured: Do you have an afterlife? The mountain wind blows and blows, as if it blows this sentence to the mountain In the ears of people. Yutangchun faces the apricot forest and back to the cliff. For some reason, weeping and whispering slightly; I don't know Tao. Zhan Junbai; They have an appointment in the next life... If, I We also have an afterlife, will everything be different? Yutangchun Yuguang glanced back slightly, his eyes earning Tangle and sigh; if there is an afterlife, I Hope, never meet you again. Jun Bai. I hope Hope, for generations to come, never see each other... From Huawei memo @ 直好好的

=> so basically, the shooting happens but Yuzhi was wearing some sort of bulletproof vest and he didn’t get hurt. They hug and both go “so lucky to have met you”. All is well in the world, this is the canon ending and fuck the rest~

2)Original text (extracted from the pic)

《恨君不似江楼月》大结局 37-1余之堂门口日外江月楼站在街道对面,隔着街道来往的人流和余之堂的玻璃窗,注视着玻璃后的陈余之,嘴角不自觉上扬。 37-2 余之堂日内陈余之收拾着桌面的东西,准备打样。陈余之察觉到一股灼热的目光, 抬起视线看去,是江月楼。江月楼得意地冲他扬眉,赠予他一个明亮的笑。陈余之回以一笑,脫下白大褂,朝着门外走去。 37-3 余之堂门口日外陈余之锁门,江月楼穿过街道上来。陈余之;早上你不是说最近警署交接工作多,很忙吗? 江月楼:再忙,也得吃饭啊。再说, 今天特殊日子,元宵节,不跟我一起过? 陈余之转身,温和一笑:好,一起过。 37-4景城街道日外江月楼、陈余之沿着街道走着,说笑着。街道两边的百姓,有的在煮饭,有的在下棋,有的在喝茶,一副安居乐业的样子。江月楼、陈余之心中安慰,对视一笑。江月楼:我们的努力没有白费,他们终于能过上安稳的日子了。陈余之:是啊,总算,一切都值不时有人向两人打招呼。路人甲:陈医生! 路人乙:江科长! 江月楼、陈余之微笑点头回应。路人热情招呼:江科长,来家里吃汤圆啊,我们自己做的,别嫌弃。江月楼笑:不用了,我们也准备回去做。陈余之愕了下,待路人走开后,问: 你打算自己做啊? 江月楼;不然呢? 陈余之:我以为,你是说去门口那家锟饨摊吃,她家每到这天都会煮些汤圆应景。江月楼:自己做,别有风味。陈余之笑:好,听你的。两人说笑着,走着。前方不远处, 个穿着黄包车夫衣服的人微微抬起视线,竟然是死里逃生的展君白。展君白抬起视线,仇恨的目光看去, 主观视角,江月楼和陈余之越来越近了。江月楼和陈余之浑然不觉即将到来的危险,聊着。江月楼:好久没骑马了,这个周末, 赛马去? 陈余之笑:这次,一定赢你。江月楼自信满满:试试看。说话间,两人已经到了展君白面前, 展君白突然持枪,朝着江月楼开枪,他拿着的,是那把曾送给玉堂春后又回到自己手上的枪。陈余之毫不犹豫地扑过去挡在江月楼身前,子弹射进陈余之心口处。江月楼想要阻拦未来得及。江月楼不敢置信的神情,一手扶住快要倒下的陈余之,毫不犹豫地拔枪,冲着展君白开枪。百姓们四散而逃。展君白中弹,身子一震,疯狂恐怖地笑着倒地,他器张得意地看着江月楼, 身体的痛他毫无感觉,他沉浸在报复的快感中。他手上戴着的一串珠子断裂落地,四散开来,那是玉堂春生前不离手的串珠。展君白狞笑:江月楼,我失去的,你也得不到。他死了,比你死了,更痛吧? 江月楼顾不得搭理展君白,紧张地扯开陈余之外套,看到子弹射在内里穿着的护甲上,护甲几乎被穿透,严重变形,所幸没有伤及身体。江月楼着急担忧:你怎么样,伤到哪里没有? 陈余之宽慰地拍拍江月楼的手:我没事。江月楼气恼地陈余之一眼:咱俩的账回去算! 展君白看到陈余之并未受伤,楞住, 不可置信的神情;这怎么可能?! 江月楼转身走向展君白,死死盯着他:我早就算准了你不会善罢甘休,从你逃离的那天起,我一直在等着,等你回来。江月楼说着,撩开自己外套,他也做了防护:展君白,我跟你不一样,你失去的,我永远不会失去。江月楼说着,看了眼陈余之,两人对视。展君白一败涂地,绝望神情。江月楼再次抬起枪口,准备结束展君白。展君白视线从江月楼移向陈余之,撑着最后一口气:陈医生,能不能,帮我个忙? 陈余之冷眼看他:我不会帮你求情的,你这是罪有应得。展君白;不是这个忙...咳咳.... 展君白白嘴角和伤口越来越多的血涌出,染红了地上散落的珠子,宛如红豆。展君白:帮我和他,葬在一起... 陈余之意外:你没把他沉进蟹塘? 展君白笑了笑:真沉了他,我如何舍得。不这样说,又如何镇得住下面的人。江月楼、陈余之对视一眼,陈余之百感交集。陈余之:他葬在何处? 展君白;城东.杏林里。陈余之想起玉堂春生前诉说自己喜欢城东杏林,想要熬过春天,葬在杏林的一幕。展君白;帮我,行吗... 陈余之摇头:他生前因你受尽折磨, 死后,定然也不愿和你再有什么瓜葛。展君白一生唯一一次恳求的眼神;求你... 陈医生,求你.. 陈余之没有犹豫,转身走向江月楼。江月楼抬起枪口,结束了展君白的一生。画面渐黑。 37-5 江月楼的家夜内门开,江月楼、陈余之进门。江月楼面色不太好,生气中,重重地坐在沙发上。陈余之有些心虚,脱下外套,挽起袖子:做汤圆的东西呢?我去准备。江月楼盯着他,不说话,视线随着陈余之走动而动。陈余之回头:现在不做吗? 江月楼起身,大步走向陈余之:做什么做,算账! 陈余之:我没受伤... 江月楼气;这是侥幸,万一呢?!我给你准备护甲是让你自保的,不是为了让你救人的! 陈余之:可那是你... 江月楼凶巴巴:是谁都不行!再说, 我又不是没有,用得着你冲出来护我吗?你知不知道,我差点吓死.. 陈余之:对不起,一时情急,我忘了。江月楼愣住:你忘了护甲这回事? 陈余之:当时来不及想太多... 江月楼突然感到无比的窝心、感动和后怕,凶巴巴的脸瞬间软化下来,抬手给了陈余之一个深深的拥抱。江月楼低喃:余之,我这一生,很不幸...但又何其有幸,竟能遇见你。陈余之低声回应:我也一样,月楼。遇见你,何其有幸.. 片刻,江月楼松手,推着陈余之走向厨房。陈余之:嗯?干什么? 江月楼:做汤圆! 37-6黑屏字幕:一年后 37-7 某乡下小院日(昏)内/外暮色昏沉。屋门开着,可以看到,陈可盈抱着小自在厅内玩耍。院子里,江月楼和陈余之坐在石桌前。桌上摆着些晾晒的草药,陈余之正在翻拉草药。江月楼手上拿着报纸, 报纸头条,金大成开任署长,景城太平。江月楼笑了,放下报纸,拿起茶杯, 惬意泡茶。江月楼自顾自喝了一口热茶,看向陈余之:好了,侍弄一下午了,明日再陈余之笑:过几日是雨季,得趁着天好,晒干晒透才行。江月楼递上一杯热茶:不急这一时半刻,喝口茶缓缓。陈余之抬起手示意,他修长手指上沾染了翠色的药草汁液。江月楼干脆将杯子递过去,陈余之低头,就着江月楼的手喝了几口水。江月楼:诊所的位置找好了,需要什么物件你空了列一下,我们一起去买。陈余之抬头,看向江月楼,狡點一笑:别的都好说,只有一件东西,怕是不好买。江月楼:什么东西?你说来听听。陈余之:原来那块余之堂的牌匾挺好的,可惜,搬家的时候忘带了。江月楼:这个啊,好办,我来解决。陈余之笑:怎么,月楼的雕工,一回生二回熟了? 江月楼愣了下,反应过来,你都知道了? 陈余之:嗯。江月楼:什么时候的事儿? 陈余之笑:秘密。江月楼扬眉:秘密啊?那就别怪我了。江月楼说着,起身,去一旁小屋拖出一块牌匾,上面用布仔细包着,江月楼扬手,布飘扬开来,露出下面的余之堂匾额。陈余之哑然失笑。江月楼得意傲娇的笑。远处,夕阳西下,绯红色和黄色交江月楼凝望远处,感慨:余之,太阳落山了。陈余之抬起视线,顺着江月楼视线看去,暮色苍茫。江月楼、陈余之凝视彼此,默契一笑,一切深情,一切情意,尽在不言中。夕阳下的剪影,逐渐融合。 --全剧终一- 番外结尾绿杨烟外晓寒轻,红杏枝头春意闹。城东的杏林里,一座修葺的很好却没有刻碑的墓。墓碑前,放了些新鲜的花束和祭奠用品。镜头拉起,从脚往上,江月楼和陈余之入画。两人并肩站在墓碑前,望着玉堂春的坟墓,默默怀念。闪回,展君白死前一幕。陈余之:他葬在何处? 展君白;城东. 杏林里..咳咳(咳血).我没有刻碑,万一被人知晓了身份,他受我连累,死后亦不得安宁。闪回结束。陈余之:我没有答应他的要求,若你泉下有知,定然也是不愿的吧? 无人回答,风吹花落。江月楼宽慰地揽住陈余之,摩挲了两下脖颈;若你真答应帮他合葬在一起, 才是辱了玉老板。如今这样,已经很好了。江月楼说着,松开陈余之,回头看向不远处的悬崖。悬崖之上,一座亦没有刻字的孤坟。因为地势原因,孤坟处可以看得到山下的杏林和玉堂春坟墓,而孤坟则永远在玉堂春坟墓的背影里,不会得到一丝一毫的余光。陈余之回头望去,心情复杂,唱叹一声。江月楼;走了,余之,咱们回家。夕阳染红了杏林的枝柳,江月楼、陈余之并肩穿过杏林,讨论的余声时而传来。陈余之:月楼,你说,人有来生吗? 江月楼深深看了眼陈余之:我不知道,但我希望有。陈余之笑了;就算有,喝了孟婆汤, 大抵也是相逢不相识了。江月楼:留个暗号,如何?若再遇见,便不会错过了。陈余之调侃:那岂不是生生世世都要遇到你这家伙了? 江月楼醋意:这话听着,好像不怎么愿意? 陈余之:若是你的话,我是愿意的。江月楼深深感动,两人对视一笑,身影消失在杏林深处。山风料峭,展君白站在悬崖之上,却并不觉得冷,他只是心冷。展君白深深凝望着前面杏林里的一抹背影,眼神明了又灭。展君白喃喃:你说,人有来生吗? 山风吹啊吹,仿佛把这句话吹到了山下人的耳朵里。玉堂春面朝杏林,背向悬崖,眼中不知怎的,微微泛起泪光,轻喃;我不知道。展君白;他们约了来生... 如果,我们也有来生,一切,会不会不一样? 玉堂春余光微微往后看了眼,眼神挣扎纠结,一声叹息;如果真有来生,我希望,再也不要遇到你. 君白. 我希望,生生世世,不复相见... 来自华为备忘录 " @ 直好好的

#killer and healer #killer and healer spoilers #spoilers #quite frankly I'm just going to accept that as the new ending #I don't care of stupid it is #it's better than those awful 5 last minutes #if mangotv were clever enough #they would edit those 5m out #but I don't think they are going to do it soooooo #*shrugs*#I still love this drama so fuck it

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literaphobe · 4 years

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season three of she-ra rated by catradora content

the price of power: adora talks about how she thinks the others at the horde can change too and when u think about it in the “at this point in the story, she still hoped catra would change” way it’s like wow :’) we knew that but wow :’) it sucks tho that in this scenario she’s actually wondering specifically if shadow weaver can change, which :/ hm :/ bc shadow weaver sucks. adora really fucking called her out on her abuse tho which is so sexy, and yes that has nothing to do with catradora i just felt like i really wanted to mention it at least <3 shadow weaver is a loserrrr <3 but.... she does mention “catra betrayed me” which makes adora do her “oh, catra?👀” eyebrow raise. i swear she cannot keep a straight fucking face whenever someone mentions catra. it’s like. are you lgbt or something? :/ 2/10

huntara: no catra this episode, but adora’s reaction to huntara will forever go down as one of her stupidest gay moments. u think catra knew super huge buff ladies were adora’s type? how fucking funny would it be if catra thought she never stood a chance with adora not because of the internalized homophobia shadow weaver instilled in them but simply because she thought she was not tall and buff enough for adora’s taste. “adora doesn’t want me!!!!! not like i want her..... because i’m not swole😔” 0/10

once upon a time in the waste: very funny and sexy of catra 2 be like. hm. i was sent here to die. i have completely given up on my hopes and dreams. oh wait what did you say? she-ra?😏 and she was blonde?👀 she’s got a sword?😩 she was angry?😽 her name is adora?👅 and all of a sudden catra is like nope existential crisis over. i’m gay again. and also evil again. that mix culminates in her giving a sexy monologue. did you know that if you’re gay and evil you will give very sexy monologues? and also sword lesbians will fall in love with you despite your questionable morals? anyway, catra takes over the whole of the crimson waste. i won’t discuss how since technically it doesn’t involve catradora but it was really hot okay😔 also adora was being really hot and powerful and fearless (she did not even flinch as bats flew in her face. hello?) and Angery this ep but i will also not get into it😩 i will however remark upon how both catra and adora low key had meltdown monologues this ep, and it is :( but also hot and cool of them. now, i will move onto when they meet <3 catra starts slow clapping as her goons creep onto mara’s ship and poison dart the best friend squad. they only send three darts flying and the last one is blocked by huntara. we have to assume that catra only ordered her team to send three darts for huntara, bow, and glimmer, leaving adora for last because catra has to greet her with, and let’s say it all together—“hey, adora😼”. adora tries to make a run for her sword but catra uses her new sexy cool whip to take it away. “i think this might be the quickest i ever won a fight. always so dramatic with you, isn’t it, adora?” adora tells huntara to save bow and glimmer first, leaving adora as catra’s only prisoner. 👀👀👀👀 soon after, everyone is celebrating, and catra sits in the big chair on mara’s ship like it’s a throne, casually draped over with adora’s sword in her hand, the long blade just resting between her legs. and. hooooooooooooooo boooooooooooooiiiiii. let me just. let me just have a second over here okay folks? this is all very hard for my sexuality to take. i don’t think u all realize how hard it is to make these evaluations. every day i have a breakdown over how hot one of them is. it’s one thing to just watch the show but every time something gay happens (so like, every five seconds) i gotta pause it and take notes (by take notes i really mean start ranting about it like this) and then i gotta like rewind it and shit to double check and i have to force myself to just be repeatedly subjected to the gayness. starting to get a little homophobic tbh! okay back to the show. catra is so fucking sweet and makes everyone cheer scorpia on too. she breaks out into this beautiful giggle. oh my god her laugh. bitches falling for this catgirl left and right smh. catra grabs scorpia’s claw and drags her away from the party. we also find out this is when catra learns about what a party is. remember how adora didn’t know what a party was either? :( damn. they deserve to have absolute ragers ok. catra starts talking about how valued and cool she will be when they go back and show hordak the sword, etc, and scorpia is like. but what if we didn’t do that. what if we just stayed here and had a gay life. a good honest gay life filled with sick parties and gang leading. and catra is like oh right.... u have a point..... i do hate the horde...... wonder why that is.... and then scorpia makes a fatal mistake. she says “forget adora!” which is about the dumbest thing you can tell a self destructive catgirl who’s been in love with adora her whole life but also kinda resents her atm. and catra is like perhaps i don’t want to forget adora. did u consider that scorpia? did you not think about how i crave her lips upon my mouth every night? fuck u im gonna go uh... find adora n maybe tie her up even more idk >:( catra goes to “check on the prisoner”, according to her own words. what does that mean, catra. like what. ur gonna go see if adora wants some tea? something 2 eat?👅 someone to kiss? Fkskdjdjdj adora is obviously struggling against her restraints and trying to break free, and the second she sees her she goes “catra, you can’t do this! >:(“ and catra is like “well, hello to you, too.” because MANNERS, adora, like god damn it catra always puts in the tender loving care and effort to greet you and you can’t even say hello? :( catra dismisses the goon who was previously guarding adora, because when you.... talk to your..... best friend turned enemy who’s now your prisoner. ur gonna want some privacy ya know😌😩👀😔 anyway catra is like ok.... once again.... y can’t i do this. and adora is like more horde army might come in!!! which. adora baby i love you but maybe don’t make that the thesis statement of your sales pitch? to the person who was second in command at the horde?? not to nitpick but if i were u i would’ve just said “noooooo don’t open a portal that might destroy reality ur so sexy ahaha” OR “if u give me back my sword and decide NOT to rip apart the fabric of this dimension i’ll kiss you on the mouth❤️” i know that u think ur feelings are one sided and that catra isn’t in love with you and that you can’t seduce her to the bright side💔 but u actually could have 💔 fkdkdjdjdj moving on.... catra says “never a dull moment with you❤️” which is weirdly so romantic. like yeah they’re enemies but catra gets bored when adora isn’t around. life is always exciting when adora is there, in catra’s eyes :’( like damn bitch if you like her so much why don’t you just marry her haha. please? <3 adora continues to explain that we will ALL lose if hordak opens a portal, light hope and mara said that opening a portal will endanger everyone!! and catra says the funniest thing. “you’ll listen to anything weird old holograms tell you, won’t you? you should really try to get over that. :/“ LFKDKFKDKFKFKFJ GIRL YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING THIS FUNNY. but then adora says the wrong thing :( she brought up you know who and said “shadow weaver told me” and catra.... :( she’s like. how did. she tell you. and adora’s voice goes soft and it’s like “you didn’t know?” because from what she knows catra is allegedly the one who betrayed shadow weaver, not the other way around. and catra grabs adora by the collar and pulls her in and adora gets this gasp and. let me just scream for five minutes. okay. i’m back. so. catra pulls her in and she’s like HOW. and adora just very slowly and cautiously tells her the truth. that shadow weaver is in bright moon. and :( catra :( she lets go of adora and comes to this. very destructive realization that shadow weaver “left her” for adora and that all the pain she’s felt is all Because Of Adora. that, just by being adora, everything, all the happiness that catra could have had, has been taken away. which she is wrong about but that’s what she thinks :( and adora realizes that this is. not good. and she gently goes “catra?” because the look on her face must be worrying to adora, and catra starts to walk away and adora desperately calls out to her. “catra, please, you have to listen!” but...... it’s too late :( and catra is enveloped by the darkness. 9/10 for the collar grabbing shit and just the inherent gayness of their connection and interactions but also this is all so sad bros :( my bros are all devastated

moment of truth: catra walks back into the horde with her arm around adora’s shoulder. hm! Hm! HM! really doesn’t feel like she needs to do that! but she’s doing it anyway! later on, entrapta and adora are alone and talking. “catra would say anything to get whatever she wants.” true, but also not true, adora. she wants to be your gf, but has she said anything about it? no :/ that’s in like 2 seasons. and you were literally about to die so she low key had nothing to gain. so :/ think carefully next time. fjsjfjsjdjdjd entrapta pulls out the funniest cutest bar graphs of data, and there’s like four categories and for some reason catra has low scores for the first three but a really high score for the last one? i desperately want to know what that is. adora says “look, i understand. catra was my friend, too.” and she casts her eyes to the side when she says this. as if.... that statement is a lot more loaded than it seems. because yes catra was adora’s friend. but also wasn’t she, at the same time, so much more than that? yes <3 it was because they were best friends <3 gal pals <3 “but she makes bad decisions. this is one of them.” :( yeah i mean what am i supposed to do. disagree with that? it’s so wild to think about how even through all of this adora never hated catra. arguably, she never stopped loving her either. which. sigh😔 pour one out boys we are yearning tonight! entrapta leaves the room, asking adora if she’ll try to escape. and adora is like “no?👀” which is irrelevant but also really funny. another irrelevant thing i want to bring up is catra when she’s losing in a fight against shadow weaver. “so, what? you’re on the side of good now? you made me this way, and you get to be the good guy?” bro. fucking.... bro. catra’s lines istg.... also her being able to take on gang leaders and princesses and take those people down easily but to lose so quickly to shadow weaver... y’all know what that is right :( sigh. wait. i’m not done let’s sit very sadly on this next line for a bit. “do you know what happened to me after you escaped? do you even care?” i’m gonna cry okay. right. back to catradora. catra is. really unhinged and devastated and destructive right now :( and so she marches into entrapta’s lab and demands that they fire up the portal machine. entrapta says they can’t, because “adora was right” and immediately that sets catra off. she gives this barely restrained chuckle and is like “adora is right.....” and she’s just. having a full on breakdown. she’s just filled with so much anger and resentment.... i can’t even joke and call it a hate boner man, and that sucks because i would love to call it a hate boner :( “adora gets EVERYTHING she wants” no catra, you are wrong. she wants you. she does not have you. case closed. adora has literally only truly wanted one thing in her life, and she does not have it because you won’t give it to her 😔 in conclusion, adora p much never gets what she wants :( why don’t you go over and hug her and then maybe you’ll calm down. i know it’s more complicated than that but still😔 anyway, catra is very determined to not let adora win, so in order to beat adora, she decides they have to open the portal no matter what, because that’s the one thing adora seems to not want right now. some very not chill stuff happens, and catra runs into hordak’s lab and demands that he opens the portal. she lies to hordak and says “oh you can’t trust anyone, especially a PRINCESS” and she turns over to glare pointedly at adora. which is. SUCH a bitter ex thing to do. “they’ll just use you to get what they want” CATRA SHE LOVES YOU :( SHES IN LOVE WITH YOU SHE ONLY EVER WANTED TO BE WITH YOU :( and also she was raised to think she only had worth if she did what others expected of her and that everyone’s happiness and safety was somehow her responsibility. and that it would be better for her to die than for others to get hurt. she was never trying to use you :( you were the only thing that ever made her selfish :( bow, glimmer, and shadow weaver run in and fight with hordak and catra, and catra realizes she has to pull the lever now or it’ll be too late. adora desperately yells “catra, please, don’t!” and catra looks at her for a last time, evil smirking before she does it. roll credits. 8.5/10

remember: oh, we’re really in it now huh :( we hear the last lines from catra and adora from the last episode, and i think this is a part of adora’s dream. she is woken up by catra gently saying her name <3 then by catra a little bit angrily saying her name fjsjdjdjd adora wakes up with a shock and catra is sitting on top of her. HHHHHH. okay. adora shoves catra off and catra is like ???? damn what usually u pull me closer and hug me when i wake u up😔😔 wtf. but catra grabs adora’s wrists to calm her down anyway and gives her this pretty reassuring look, and she jokes “heh, since when do you sleep in? u usually wake up early to flirt with me!” as we all know adora gets nightmares even from her days in the horde so catra just treats this as normal and tries to make adora feel better as usual. ground her and say lighthearted things to make adora remember that she is safe. i mean technically the universe is collapsing in on itself rn so making adora feel safe isn’t the Best thing to do but catra also thinks the fake reality IS reality atm so that’s not her fault <3 adora is confused about how she got “here” and catra finds this strange because adora is in her room! she has her own room now, because she’s force captain! which makes u wonder whether catra and adora would sleep in the same bed if adora was force captain. would catra creep in and sleep in her bed still? would they lock the door and cuddle? oh well! guess we’ll never know! they... are so soft here, just smiling at each other, catra worried about adora, adora smiling back and deciding to just dismiss what happened as a weird dream. “there was something i needed to fix...” “of course you dream about work. there’s nothing to fix adora. everything’s perfect.” hhhh i know everyone in the fake reality thinks Everything’s Perfect too but can we just be gay for a second and think about how a perfect life for catra is just... to be with adora. can we just chomp down on that meaty thought for a sec? :( ok anyway, catra puts her hand on adora’s shoulder and adora smiles and is like wow ur right :) this does feel pretty perfect i mean catra and i are in bed together what could be so wrong💞😜😘👅😎😩 catra pulls adora up to her feet and says “come on, get up” and adora is perfectly happy to just chase after catra. it’s so fucking unfortunate tho that she decides at the last second to pick her ugly ass jacket up. like baby, no. u look perfectly hot as is in that white top. but she needs the jacket to see her force captain badge so she can get Visions or whatever. like goddamn i know the world was collapsing in on itself but imagine if shadow weaver had never been like abusive and the horde was just some chill ass ugly hangout spot instead of a fascist regime. catra and adora really could’ve just been happy huh? :( anyway catra gets kinda annoyed that her gf is not chasing after her any more and instead putting on her ugly ass jacket and looking at it in the mirror. so she’s like “adora! :(“ and adora goes running. she always comes when catra calls for her😌😌😌😌 and then the opening credits play, giving me whiplash. wow that was such a gay fucking cold open. adora walks side by side with catra and is a little weirded out by all the people saluting her and shit. and she’s like lmao wtf what are they all looking at and catra is like u u beautiful idiot. ur hot, and also the invasion of thaymor that u led went perfectly❤️ ur the hero of the hour i’m so proud of you babe❤️ catra is just a proud happy gf who smiles so beautifully and adora is getting more Visions and Flashbacks. but catra is so hot when she’s proud of her that adora decides that she’s gonna be like YEAH OMG I DID THAT WAR CRIME RIGHTS <3 and salutes people like a fucking idiot. and catra does the whole flirty “oh please, you couldn’t have done it without me ;)” bit and wraps her gay arm around gay adora who looks like she’s in heaven, hilariously pushing adora down a bit because catra is SHORT FJSJDJDJD and adora is like “rightttt ;) what would i ever do without you ;)” and man to be a horde soldier witnessing their flirting. i would start yelling slurs at them immediately. adora elbows catra with her arm and they both laugh, but the force causes catra to bump into a horde soldier. and the soldier makes the fatal mistake of reacting normally and being like HEY WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING TWERP and catra is not amused. adora puts her hands on her hips, glaring at the soldier, and he immediately gets so fucking scared. and the soldier is like UHUHUH FORCE CAPTAIN I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE— I’M SO SORRY. didn’t know she was what? DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS WHAT???? gay????? banging this angry catgirl????? in the middle of flirting with her??????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN. what does it ALL mean?????? and adora is just like YEAH U BETTER BE >:( disMISSED >:( like fucking WHAT?????? yeah how dare u get mad at my gf for bumping into you. it is YOUR fault for existing while we were roughhousing as part of a very intricate ritual. u ruined the FLOW of our flirting u jackass. u fucking bitch. now we gotta start all over again :( and then like the soldier leaves while v terrified and keeps bowing at them and catra and adora just bursts out laughing at each other. they’re that lesbian couple who will bully u in school and feel zero remorse for it. that is so fucking sexy. i wish that were me. catra proceeds to make fun of the soldier she bumped into and didn’t even apologize to all “oh, force captain, don’t hurt me! UHAHASHUAH” and adora plays along with the re-enactment by posing and acting tough. catra really do be flexing her privilege as gf of everyone’s boss huh. she’s that secretary who WILL spit in your coffee and kick you in the shin all because the CEO is in love with her and they’re like slamming ass. catra is like. just straight up rubbing it in everyone’s faces that she’s untouchable because adora is in love with her. that’s just. that’s just greaaat. they both start laughing again at their own jokes. and yeah they’re both pretty funny people but like ok lesbians. have fun being happy or whatever. catra is like “too good” and adora is like hehehe baby!!!! where are we going again and catra is like to the locker room!! there’s something i wanna show you😘😘😘 because you know they’re in love. them just walking down a corridor together feels like a straight up date. adora thinks they’re taking The Long Way instead of this shortcut she knows with a side door but that door is gone and suddenly this throws Doubt again. and i guess that door got swallowed up by the reality-collapsing portal but damn adora :/ what’s wrong with taking the long way? :/ too good to spend some quality time w ur gf? :/ JFJSJDJ anyway catra is like what? no this way is the right way :) the scene can be read as cute gfs who argue about directions even tho it’s just a walk to the locker room ❤️ i wouldn’t say it’s the right way to read the scene bc the point is that parts of reality as adora knows it is disappearing but shhh. i am gay <3 catra immediately starts worrying about adora again and she’s like DO U HAVE A CONCUSSION :( and like grabs adora’s face which is so cute. she also accidentally shoves adora towards her chest so adora has No Choice but to stare :) good for you adora “i know you get hit on the head a lot” JFKSKDKSJDJD man but catra gf goals tho :( get u a girl who will check if u have a concussion because you get hit on the head a lot, most of it accidents 😩😩😩 “but i figured your dumb little hair poof would cushion the blow” HDHJSSHAHSHSHSH GET YOU A GIRLFRIEND WHO WILL LOVE YOU EVEN THO UR HAIR POOF IS DUMB😳😳😳 adora is a tiny bit >:( about being roasted for her hair choices and also a bit >:) because catra touched her and she’s like LMAOOO IM ALL CHILL M8 😩👌🏻💅🏻😎 “don’t make me kick your butt” as she shoves catra. wow adora! watch where you’re putting your hands! jk i know i know :) you simply have no choice because the only place to shove someone is to push their tiddies :) i understand and approve :) catra responds to adora’s threats with “pft ;) as if you could” which is just yet another invitation for them to “fight” :). u know how i feel about catradora and their roughhousing? it’s like. u know how people talk about men fighting each other as an excuse to touch? i feel like catradora said yeah that’s ours now. and they’re right. it’s theirs. they literally. they fucking giggle and shit as they start shoving and hitting each other all the way to the locker room. and lonnie is like SURPRISE and adora’s reaction is so funny she legit looks like she got mad p*ssy blocked and she’s like the FUCK. and catra isn’t as mad bc she kind of like planned this cute like i love you adora❤️ surprise party. because it’s a surprise party! for adora! adora is like damn whats this?? grey ration bar cake w my face drawn on it? also from the looks of the drawing i feel like catra definitely drew it. isn’t that so fucking cute. adora hugs lonnie (yay) and kyle (what the fuck gross???) and she’s like u guys 😩😩😩u got the gray kind.... that’s way better than the brown kind.... lonnie is like “hey, it was catra’s idea!” implying that catra definitely specifically told them to make the cake out of the gray ration bars, not the brown ones. and adora. let’s all take a deep breath. she goes. “oh yeah? ;)” in the most. insufferably flirty way ever. like in that Wow This Was All You Huh ;) way, with her stupid hands on her stupid hips giving catra this 😏😏😏😏😏😏 look. and catra is like ;) casually leaning against the wall, her arms all crossed. it is interesting to note that adora keeps putting her hands on her hips and catra keeps crossing her arms. i think that’s really cute. catra says “eh, whatever, don’t make a big deal about it” but it is a big deal catra. u don’t just plan cute surprise parties for anyone. and the fact that this is YOU we’re talking about? for catra planning a thoughtful surprise party catered to adora’s tastes all because she’s proud of her accomplishments..... is on par with proposing marriage. adora won’t let catra live this down tho. “wow, i can’t believe you like me ;) that is so embarrassing for you!” and she grabs catra for head scratches. catra giggles and pushes against adora saying “stop it😳😳(no don’t stop bro don’t stop😩😩) get off 🙄🙄 (wait actually don’t get off😩😩) this is not 😡 because i like you😳😳(it’s because i love you💞)” and she shoves adora off only to IMMEDIATELY pounce on adora, making adora laugh so fucking happily. kyle is secretly a lesbophobe tho so when he sees this gay display he’s like WUUUUOHOH I DROP CAKE :( and we get this VERY quick frame of catra and adora with their fingers interlocked before they pull apart at the crash and look at kyle. that is so fucking rude of u kyle. we could’ve gotten a few more seconds of catra and adora interlacing their fingers but NO. fuck u. thankfully, the euphoria of being gay is still burning strong for catra and adora, so they laugh happily instead of beating the shit out of kyle. how sweet <3 adora sees the word MARA in one of the cake pieces, and she’s very thrown off right before catra holds her shoulder and is like “hang on, you got something right... THERE!” and she like throws grey bar sludge into adora’s face ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 u know? how you pal around with your gals? adora rubs the grey cake stuff off her face, and then.... ugh i don’t even wanna say her name. we were all having such a good gay time :( [redacted] walks in and tells adora to get off the floor, and tells catra to get herself cleaned up. and [redacted] tells adora to come with her. adora gazes gayly upon catra’s face who gives her a reassuring smile that tells adora she’s okay, so adora runs along. catra looks lovingly at adora while she walks away. shadow weaver praises adora’s successful war crime and adora is like i couldn’t have done it without the others aka catra <3 and in this fake reality she succeeded in persuading shadow weaver to let catra come with her! adora goes to the force captain briefing and gets roasted by scorpia because scorpia is still like. jealous of adora because you know..... you know how you hate the person your crush is in love with? yeah <3 adora freaks out because the universe is falling apart and she keeps getting visions from her real life. and then catra appears, and all the weirdness stops for a moment. i think it is so interesting how the world starts falling apart faster when catra isn’t there, but when catra is there things in the fake reality start to look and feel a little more normal. it’s like.... catra and adora’s connection is so strong that when they’re together... they can stabilize the collapse of a reality. just for a little while. just to have a little more time together. their gay levels are THAT strong. they’re like level 5000 lesbians. and they just keep leveling up as the show goes on which is why by s5 they can defeat an intergalactic conquerer just by making out LMAOOOOO anyway. catra is very worried about her wife. she’s all “adora, what is wrong?” yeah she’s so worried she doesn’t even use a contraction. adora takes out the slip of paper and shows it to catra. “did you write this?????” and catra looks at it and is like “did i write a blank piece of paper? i’m gonna go with no.” which. KFKDKFKDKFKDKFFJ BROOOO WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY. it’s like not supposed to be funny because adora is having a meltdown but it’s so fucking funny i—moving on. adora starts properly freaking out and catra is like hey :( u ok omg :( calm down :( and she puts her hand on adora’s shoulder but adora swats it away like I CAN’T CALM DOWN :( and she starts rambling and referencing stuff that happened and this vision of catra betraying adora in promise shows up (i think it’s catra’s memory?????) and catra slaps adora. which. HEY :( but also it’s like very funny. and adora is like ow :( what was that? :( and catra is like sowwy!!!! :( u were freaking out!!!! and it was freaking me out!!!!! :( and adora is like well u didn’t have to Slap Me :(((((( and is like why would my evil catgirl gf do this. have i not loved her enough :( is this the thanks i get for loving her with my entire heart :( and catra grabs her arm and is like come on!!!! let’s get you outside!!!! you need some air :) and oh. oh man. oh to have my hand/arm lovingly held by a girl as she giggles and excitedly drags me somewhere. the fucking dream. adora protests against getting air which (??????) u don’t want air? but u need air? to breathe? i know adora is just trying to say she doesn’t need to like go to her and catra’s secret place at the highest edge of the horde but then oh guess what? she’s there with catra. and adora is like how did we get here.... and catra looks depressed because her gf is losing it and that’s so sad 😔 she’s like how did we get here? we climbed up :( like we always do :( or am i the only one who remembers that :( and adora is like idk what’s happening to me :( it’s like i’m losing my mind..... and catra is like you just need to relax <3 by hanging out with me <3 and adora is like ur probs right :( am fine :( everything fine :( and she gets this glimpse of catra and catra smiling evilly at her but catra gets up and is like huh! ofc im right! Everything’s Perfect! soon, the two of us are gonna be ruling etheria together, just like we always planned 😺😸😹😻😼😽😾🙀 and quietly, adora goes “is that what you really want? to rule the world?” and catra gets this UHHHHH look akin to when someone asks u “hey, do you like apples? or are you just gay for me?” and you gotta awkwardly answer “what.... nooooo..... i’m not gay i fucking love apples” and so catra gets the exact face that expresses this sentiment and she’s like “i mean, yeah, obviously. isn’t that what you want too?” and it’s like UGHHHH because clearly neither of them want to rule the world! ruling the world was just an excuse for catra to be with adora, and when adora inevitably says “hey maybe we shouldn’t rule the world” catra will take it to mean “i don’t want to be with you” instead of “ruling the world is bad” and it’s just. it really tears me the fuck up bros! when catra says don’t you want to rule the world too? she really means don’t you want to be with me? and it’s just. HHHHHHHHH. i can NOT. i have had it up to HERE. adora says “i don’t know (re ruling the world lmao i went on a tangent earlier)” and catra is like “don’t flake out on me now!” like ruling the world is meeting up for lunch and suddenly adora texted at 11:30 am that she’s not really feeling up to it today :/ “this is what we always wanted”, catra continues to say, and we all know that “this” is..... the freedom to be with each other, without everything else getting in the way. “everything will be perfect as long as we stay together”. and she is right about that. but also catra’s current definition of them “staying together” isn’t right. adora and catra were always supposed to meet halfway. they will both have to grow to do that. but let’s not get 2 deep😩 i am here to have meltdowns and make gay jokes only😌 and then adora says “what if we don’t stay together? what if it all goes wrong?” which is like. damn that’s the show right there KFKSJDJSJDJ and adora sees lightning again and she gets upset because why can’t catra see the reality-cracking lightning too!!!! why can’t catra see the light!!!!! why can’t she see that she should be doing good things and not evil things!!!!! why can’t she see that she should be coming with me, running away with me, being with me in a place that’s safe!!!!! and catra grabs her hand and is like “adora!!! stay with me, okay? :( you’re just seeing things. it’s all in your head” and it is all so terribly tragic and sad. ah, the age old argument. come with me, stay with me. i will be whispering this in decades’ time, spreading gay tales to my loved ones. after this, lonnie is calling for adora and catra. “thought we’d find you up there” FJSJDJSJDJD the way it’s just like an open secret that catra and adora are gay and have a gay hangout spot where they do gay things. incredible. adora finds out an entire week has passed all of a sudden and she grips her head in frustration and catra is like adora? :( and holds her in concern. and adora is like ranting about how there’s something wrong with space and time!! and catra is just freaked out and begging her to stop because adora please! please stop finding the destruction of reality weird and hold my hand! i haven’t been happy since the day you left! and.... hoo okay sadness. catra’s holding her arm and adora’s like we’re not supposed to be here!!! catra holds her upper arms and goes “adora, everything’s okay!” and adora snaps and tells her to stop saying that! because this isn’t right! because she will lose everything, including catra, if she does not fix this. “everyone keeps telling me everything is perfect but it’s not! everyone except... scorpia” so she runs away to find her and catra is like adora!!! adora, where are you going? please don’t go. don’t go where i can’t follow😔😔 but adora is gone. we get this whole thing with scorpia and adora and adora is straight up just so petty. about scorpia hating her. which mood because i want everyone to like me. all the time. but also adora in scorpia’s defense she has a crush on a certain catgirl who will Not Shut Up about you :/ adora gets flashbacks about catra and realizes that the girl she’s been inappropriately touching for the past.... day? is the one who did the thing that is destroying reality❤️ LMAOOOOO this would be like... hm actually not many situations available to describe this. except. have you been flirting with the thing that’s been trying to kill us? have you been in love with the thing that’s been trying to kill us? yeah stuff like that <3 “catra did this. she captured me, she took... the sword. she activated the portal!” LFKSKDKSKDKDK you know what? this would be 58384848484 times funnier if they had canonically banged during the fake reality before adora realized the world as they all knew it was about to end <3 and you know what? they did bone. but it was cut for time <3 KFKDKDKDK JKJK god i need to like shut up for once in my life. but if i did that, these evaluations which no one asked for would not exist❤️ adora loses scorpia and razz (temporarily) and lonnie and she finds catra again! even tho she now remembers that catra kidnapped her and took her sword and used it for the portal and activated her portal.... she immediately grabs catra and pulls her along with her. despite knowing all that..... for the moment she is acting on instinct and doesn’t care. she just wants to keep catra with her and keep catra safe because the portal is swallowing up so many people and she cannot lose catra. adora drags her to this weapons closet that closes behind them and catra, instead of kissing her in this enclosed space (WIMP), shakes her and is like hey! you’ve officially lost it, haven’t you? and adora is like listen, we have to go. now! scorpia, lonnie, kyle, rogelio, they’re all gone! but catra is like what are you talking about? who’s gone? and adora’s all they’re gone. there’s nothing left. and we’ll be next if we don’t get out of here right now. and she’s so firm about it putting her entire foot down because No. not catra. she Cannot lose her. but catra is so stuck in wanting some part of all this to be real that she’s arguing with adora that she’s not making sense and Everything Is Fine. and adora goes “don’t say it’s Perfect. i know it’s not perfect and so do you!” because... she just knows catra that well. and she knows catra is smart enough to see what’s going on if scorpia did that too. catra’s choosing to repress it all, but adora’s words snap catra into memory for a moment, and she remembers it, maybe even remembers it all, and i think.... it all just hurts too much and she’d rather not be in that reality so she acts like she doesn’t know a thing and tells adora she’s not going anywhere. frustrated because she can’t convince catra, adora picks up one of the stun barons and... tases catra KFKSKDKDKDKSKDK and i can’t help but think of when catra tased adora back in sword part 2 (1x02) and man that is not good but also so funny that they’ve both tased each other. there’s this desperation there in both instances that we should definitely not romanticize at all but they just. deep down they will just do close to anything to keep the other with them. and it is messed up! and i’m glad that a little ways down the road they unlearn this but also.... wow. adora catches catra tenderly in her arms as she slumps against her, literally fucking BRIDAL CARRYING catra out and running away from the crumbling horde. literally IMAGINE IF LIKE. catra did not wake up and fight with adora. imagine if catra had stayed passed out longer and adora had fixed the portal without anyone getting left behind. and catra was still unconscious and she like walks out of the portal back into where they all were with catra in her arms like that. just like hey i fixed the portal :) all of us nearly died and it was kind of partially this catgirl’s fault but i’m like low key desperately in love with her so can we keep her? lmao :-) anyway. adora steals a skiff again (lmao first ep throw back! remember their date) and flies her and catra out of the crumbling world. catra wakes up, watching adora’s determined face as she flies them out and catra’s like WAIT WTF DIDN’T U TASE ME and is like hypocritically fighting adora trying to grab the stun baton. bad idea! adora’s DRIVING you don’t attack the driver!! but catra does not often make good decisions </3 the skiff crashes and they both fall off. they get up, look at each other angrily and run after the stun baton. catra grabs it first but adora hits it out of her hand and grapples catra who continues to keep reaching for the weapon. “catra, you can’t. we need to get as far from the fright zone as possible or we’ll be completely erased along with everything else.” “you think you can convince me by kidnapping me?” well no but goddamn the world is COLLAPSING catra PLEASE :( also is the power of love not enough? catra she loves you she’s in love with you she would pull you from the depths of hell even if you threw everyone in there in the first place!!!!!! that’s how deep this runs because that’s not even a metaphor adora has identified you as the main party who brought upon this reality ripping portal and still!!! she wants you saved. is that not fucking hot? :/ is that not sexy enough for you? :/ KFKSKDKSKDK jkjk okay catra continues with “what is wrong with you?!” and throws adora over her shoulder. not to like. ruin a very heated and serious moment in the show. but catra throwing adora like it’s nothing is like... very strong..... and when you remember how adora likes strong girls........ KFKDKDKDKDKDKDJ adora b like ow that hurts 😔 u free next friday? 😳 catra goes up to the stun baton again and adora kicks it away. “i won’t leave you behind again.” “why can’t you just stay? we have everything we ever wanted.” BITCH THE WORLD IS COLLAPSING IN ON ITSELF. THERE’S A PORTAL EATING UP REALITY. STAY WHERE? “it’s not real, catra.” YES. save the world first, and then after this you can play rock paper scissors and the loser will go with the winner❤️ wouldn’t it be so funny if they did that. if they decided to leave it up to chance. if adora was like well the horde is evil but if you beat me in rock paper scissors i guess i will follow you wherever you go. and then they like fix the portal and everyone is like yay hey adora lets go back to bright moon! and she’s like yeah uh i gotta hash out this situation with my gf real quick uh just a little heads up i might be bringing the horde’s best strategist and leader over to our side OR i might be fighting for the bad people again :/ so wish me luck and everyone just had to stand there and watch as adora and catra held their hands out and went ROCK PAPER SCISSORS SHOOT anyway. “as much as i wish that things could be simple the way they used to be, there’s no going back.” and she holds catra gently and in many ways i think she’s sort of acknowledging that she really, really just wants that light hearted playful dynamic with catra back. they both just experienced it again. they both just threw themselves back into it again. and adora really wants to be happy with catra, she would stay with catra if she could, but she has overwhelming responsibilities and an overwhelming sense of responsibility that was instilled in her from a young age. and she thinks she shouldn’t get to choose her happiness, to put herself first. also like. THE HORDE IS EVIL DJSJDJSNDNSJS like. that’s a really important part too. it’s kind of hard for catra to distinguish that though because she’s had very. evil things done to her all her life. and she held on for so long because she thought adora would always be there with her but then adora walks away and makes it seem like. it could have been that easy. but it can’t have been that easy because if it was so easy why did catra have to suffer so much for? also adora didn’t run away to save catra. she had this destiny thrust upon her, and she chose to leave the horde before inviting catra along, which is not wrong of her at all, but it inevitably made catra feel like an afterthought. and now... things are kind of damaged. and catra just wants to run if adora won’t stay, so she shoves adora and takes off and adora lunges after her, tackling her, and adora decides to confront catra about the big elephant in the room, the thing she’s not said a thing about to catra until now when they’re fighting because she was so desperate to save catra before. “why did you do it?” “i don’t know what you’re talking about!” which is a lie but now that she really gets to see the consequences of her rage and anguish filled actions, i don’t think catra can properly explain it either. she was just so angry and she had built this narrative in her head that it was adora’s fault, and so she just wanted to do everything that adora didn’t want her to do. except u failed catra😔 adora wants you to love her and you do, you do love her😔 oopsie😔 you just don’t show it in healthy ways most of the time because your relationship is fraught with tragedy and abusive upbringings💔 adora gives up questioning catra for the moment because “there’s no time. we have to go.” catra grunts as adora’s childhood promise plays in her mind and it is overlaid with the adora of the present telling her “i promise, everything will be okay if we just stay together.” and goddamn adora really means it. she’s literally willing to patch everything up together even after everything if catra will just Decide right here, right now, to go with her. right then, the memory of adora first asking catra to come with her plays and adora is asking her, “help me fix this, please, this can’t be what you wanted” because adora knows! she knows how caught up catra was, in her pain and anger and desperation to win, to overcome all the times she lost growing up. she believed that catra, with her loving heart that saved adora everyday they knew each other growing up, could not have wanted to erase all of reality. to erase what they had. but just because adora knows that doesn’t mean catra does. all the rage and pain and resentment that led to her opening the portal, it is still there, and it is still affecting her judgement in a bad way, and by reminding her that she cannot just repress it all, that she cannot just play pretend with adora until their time is up,,,, this leads her to lash out again :( :( :( “don’t you get it? i am never going to go with you.” i wanna be like sad but also this bitch straight up LYING remember that other time she said “don’t you get it?” remember what came after that? so maybe catra in this moment is too angry and consumed by self hatred, too proud to admit she wants adora when she thinks adora doesn’t want her the way she wants her.... but “never”? lmaooooo ok :/ catra evil gay laughs and goes “you always have to go and ruin it, don’t you?” ruin what???? the illusion????? the pretenses you work so hard to keep to cover up how deep the feelings you both have run??? catra lunges for adora and fights with her, scratching and missing because adora is dodging and catra’s heart is too.... sigh..... she’s too fucking gay to really bring it ok? no matter how angry she is she still loves adora too much to give it her best. adora doesn’t fight back, mostly defending and pushing catra away. “catra, look what’s happening. you’re going to destroy everything!” catra stomped on her heart and she still wants to Convince her, which is really sad, for now, for both of them. and catra goes feral and is like “i don’t care! i won’t let you win. i’d rather see the whole world end than let that happen.” :( bro? this song is so sad. can we change it? sigh. catra is too far gone at the moment. everything, even the slightest concession to adora, even at the expense of existence, is like admitting defeat to catra. and when catra says she’d rather see the whole world end than let adora win, she’s also saying she’d let herself... die. and that is just so sad. bro who gave season three the right. like... i am so exhausted. i am just trying to call some bitches out for being gay, i did not sign up for all this pain. i am so exhausted. this episode is twenty odd minutes or so. you know how many hours i’ve spent writing this? it’s not anyone’s fault but mine for being extra, but man i am so tired. i love seeing catradora interact, but god, at what cost? the portal rips up the ground between them, and catra grabs at adora, clutching onto her badge. i cannot tell if she was just trying to take it off or she wanted to grab adora and pull her close too. “catra, no!” adora grabs catra’s wrist but the badge falls off and catra falls too. “catra!” catra is on some rock in the falling heap, and adora reaches for her but she’s too far away. still, she keeps her hand outstretched. but catra, who’s hanging on by a rock at this point, gives her this look of... almost helplessness. that then hardens into resentment and anger and she just. lets go. and adora, who has tears in her eyes, is just. she absolutely crumbles here. and she runs a good distance away and falls to her knees and just starts SOBBING. she is just crying so hard over losing catra AGAIN and it’s just. That’s Too Much, Man! thankfully, razz shows up and is like stop crying bitch u can still save her ❤️ so adora decides to stop crying for all time and gets to work❤️ 10/10 but also did i ask? :/ yes i did and i am in so much pain right now. my god what an episode

the portal: it’s so fucking refreshing not seeing catradora for a bit <3 i spent hours watching remember ok. here i am now starting the last ep at least a full week later because of how much it was. sometimes this show is too gay <3 i love it tho! i do <3 it’s just hard having to pause and replay every five seconds and write an essay about the tiniest thing <3 and i know what you’re thinking <3 no one asked me to do this <3 no one asked me to be so extra <3 and yet <3 anyway, more than half of the ep passes with adora losing bow and glimmer in the end, but as she’s crying on her knees again she lifts her head up and corrupted!catra touches her forehead with one finger. oh <3 that’s gay <3 anyway, catra’s here because she died but she’s got like nine lives so she’s back now and infected by the collapsing portal. oh great! we get what is probably the most cursed ḩ̵͕̺̯͚̞͈̰̤͎̥̗̳͂̽̃̄͌̎̅̈́̏̎͘͝͝ẻ̷͇͚͈̤̪̖̜̥̥̱̼̅̒͌͗͝y̴̥̺̓͌͊͌̊͒͌̏̔̕͝ ̶̧̟̤̠̯̱̳͕̙̯̔ͅá̶̤͉͕̱̰̮̺̮̝̗̱̲͓̺̯̒͐͐d̵̨̟̖̦̈̑̄̌̍̆̀̾̊̑̽͗͝͠ȏ̷̧̢̨̞̮͇̟̘̘̠̼̊͆̐̉̉̀̌̿̚ͅŗ̴̢̬͚͉̦̘̪̜̥̑̔̈́̀̒͂͗͜͠ͅą̸̡̡͕͈͚͕̼͔̳͔̖̙̯̱̓͗̊́. the look on adora’s face when she’s greeted with this is very interesting. she gives catra this little once over. on one hand, catra isn’t gone like adora thought when she had lost her into the collapsing portal, but also something about this catra definitely doesn’t look right. catra then proceeds to slam adora into another dimension. flat against the bar table in the crimson waste... and ngl it looks like. catra slammed her on the table for :/ stuff :/ that’s like :/ you know :/ banging :/ and adora even looks around for a moment because catra isn’t there and adora’s thinking damn where u at catra? :/ so you didn’t slam me against this table for... no? :( we aren’t gonna slam ass? :( but then surprise surprise! catra straddles her at the last moment! adora gasps and catra is like oh... where are your friends? in that unsettling corrupted tone. notice how adora has been silent this entire time. so horny you couldn’t speak bitch? :/ sadly, catra lunges for adora and adora realizes that catra is still evil and that she isn’t going to kiss her gently on the lips after all 😔 adora grabs catra by the arm and pulls her close. she puts her other hand on catra’s shoulder. adora baby.... you don’t need to touch her with both hands. are you that gay? yes. why am i even asking that question. “catra, stop. you have to–“ catra pushes her face aside. “it’s always the same with you, adora. i have to do this, oh we have to do that!” and then they’re like gay struggling against each other? and catra pulls adora up and holds her tight against her, adora’s arm bent over catra’s shoulder to keep her there. then with her other arm she wraps her elbow around adora’s other arm to further restrain her? and then she puts her face right against adora’s cheek. i don’t know how to explain this. it’s just. homoerotic. damn the gays fight like this? catra then tosses adora aside and they land somewhere else. catra says like things to adora that are about her insecurities and stuff. but i’m not gonna get into those <3 isn’t that so sexy of me? instead i will say this. catra kind of like fights one sidedly with adora a lot in this segment where they go through various locations we’ve seen in the show, and she like talks a lot of shit. but let’s focus on how adora’s feeling <3 she goes through it like this. 1) not horny anymore! i’m scared/insecure/angry with catra now 2) catra throws adora into the big chair on mara’s ship and catra slams her hand against it next to adora’s face like how someone might do before you kiss them in movies 3) horny again 4) catra doesn’t say sorry for the mean things corrupted her said and she didn’t kiss her gently on the lips so adora gets her shit together and realizes all the things evil corrupted catra is saying is not her fault! she pushes catra away and is like “i didn’t make you pull the switch. i didn’t make you do anything! i didn’t break the world, but i am gonna fix it. and you? you made your choice. now live with it!” and in between all that she fights back against catra and at the end she does you know that punch we all know about. but after the punch she calms down from that emotional breakthrough high and gets this :( face. at the end of the day... no matter how far gone catra went, no matter how right she was in setting those boundaries and making it clear catra has to be responsible for her actions, adora cares. adora loves her, it’s the one thing she can’t help. and to see catra sink so deep into the darkness... it hurts her. adora watches catra disintegrate when they fall into the wormhole thing that the portal caused, and she has this like. >:( :( look because adora’s planning to fix everything anyway, the upsetting thing here for her is that she failed to make catra see sense. catra’s likely going back to the horde when all of this is over and there’s nothing adora can do about it. and at the moment i don’t think adora wants to try anymore after failing so many times... which is good for her! but also they are both going to be so sad after this </3 after the whole angella scene (miss that milf) adora gets the sword back and becomes she ra again. we go back to the scene in the horde and catra clutches the side of her face, so we know that was her but it also wasn’t Her, you know? like part of her face got corrupted by the portal and she just had to make sure she was real and whole again. adora comes back as she-ra and destroys the portal, prompting catra to escape. but she looks back at the last moment, looks back angrily, and adora gives her an equally hard stare. she’s done with catra, for the moment, and catra realizes this, and it kind of hits her that this adora is different now. and for a moment she is sad and afraid, but she pulls it together to make a mean face again, before running away. 9/10

#text #she ra #catradora #spop #this is so long i hate myself #please like this and find it funny #also feel free to discuss any of the concepts or scenarios or things or whatever i brought up in here #we are on catradora s3 evaluation lockdown!#also yes i started using emojis here which i did not use for s1 and s2 #have fun reading!#please rb this

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closer-stars · 4 years

Text

By Your Side - San

Member: San Requested: Yes @hoe9for9kpop Genre: Fluff Word count: 5k+ Content: Jealousy. Don’t forget to communicate ! San needs reassurance. Bit of angst. Wholesome stuff. Note: this took... forever. I tried. I went through a bit of a writer’s block somewhere but I got through it. I hope it’s okay?

The male looks up from his computer upon hearing a few knocks against the door. “San-ah! Is it okay if one of my friends stays at our place for a week?” You ask simply. Your boyfriend looks at the phone in your hand then at your features.

“Yeah, that’s fine. What’s going on, babe?” He asks before you return your attention to the phone.

“My friend needs a place to stay for some business thing but his company won’t cover his living expenses.” You return with a frown. He doesn’t say anything else but a nod, quickly returning to his game, yelling at Yunho to save him. He did make a mental note to ask you more about this after, right now he had to make sure he and Yunho last through the entire round.

“Hey, babe. Who’s this friend of yours?” He asks casually over dinner. He doubts his memory sometimes, there were times where he doesn’t remember things especially when explained to him while he was tired. He notices how your eyes brighten up and how happy you look as you explain that they were an old friend since high school. Both of you kept in touch even if he moved elsewhere before the start of university. While you were in the middle of telling him stories, his phone rings. He gives you an apologetic look, seeing that it’s from the company. His schedules can start at the weirdest times sometimes. You don’t mind though, it’s part of his work.

While you were cleaning up the dishes, he immediately returns to you after the call. “Are you sure we can still let my friend stay? I don’t want it to go in between your work.” You say as you put the plates in the cabinets. You were already devising a plan for your friend in case you had to retract your offer. He helps clean up the counters as he laughs softly at your concern. “Baby, don’t worry. Your friend can still stay with us. My manager just had to remind me of my early schedule tomorrow. We can still pick up your friend from the airport three days from now, right?” He says, making it a point to show that he was paying attention to what you’ve been talking about.

You couldn’t help but flash a smile of gratitude at him, and press a kiss on his dimpled cheek.

“Love you, babe.”

The following days moved by a lot faster than you expected and maybe it was because you were just excited to see your friend again. While San was at the company for preparations for their upcoming promotions, you stayed at home cleaning the place up along with the room your friend will be staying in for the next few days. Once you are satisfied with how your place looks, you immediately get yourself changed to get ready to go to airport. San messaged you a few minutes ago that he was near and once he freshens up, both of you could head to the airport to pick your friend up.

The trip to the airport was a little endearing in his eyes. Your knee was shaking as you looked at the road in front of you. “Babe, we’ll get there in time.” San reminds you in between giggles. You look at him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry..” You mumble, embarrassed. He shakes his head, assuring you that there was nothing to be sorry about. He leans over to press a peck on your lips. “Anything for you.”

Both of you arrive at the airport with a few minutes to spare before your friend comes out. They’ve already told you what they were wearing and you to them, even telling them you brought your boyfriend with you. You lean your forearms against the railing, your eyes trained on your phone screen or on the door, trying your best to not look like you were about to vault through the door.

“What are they wearing, babe?”

You open your phone again. “Black jeans, red coat, white shirt and his luggage’s navy.”

San looks at you with a bemused look. “Are you sure that’s not Mingi?”

“If it was, I would’ve just booked an AirBnB for him.” You joke in return. Just then, the doors slide open to let those who had arrived to head out after claiming their luggage. Both of you shift your attention to the people trickling out, looking for anyone who would match the description.

“There!” You exclaim, waving at a male. San looks at the direction your eyes were set on. He didn’t know your close friend was another man-- well he never did ask, nor did you ever tell him. Oops. His chest tightens slightly at the fact you were so elated to see them again. He didn’t like this feeling either, internally fighting it out as you welcome your friend warmly. ‘He’s just a friend. I’m still the boyfriend.’ He reminds himself over and over as he slowly trails behind you.

“Hwamin! This is San, my boyfriend. San, Hwamin.” You introduce them to each other, hoping that things go well with the two for the week. Polite bows were exchanged, along with other niceties. San doesn’t want to show his discomfort still, and tries to swallow his insecurities for the moment as he offers to take Hwamin’s luggage from him as they head to their car.

“Thanks, San.” Hwamin says, a little relieved to have the tension in his arms be lifted after the hours of being in a plane and dragging his luggage. The trip back to the apartment was the same, you and Hwamin exchanging stories as you fill each other up on what the other has missed. San was on the wheel and for once he was thankful he was in charge of driving, just so he could avoid being part of the conversation. San kind of wishes he could get home quicker without risking a ticket, the sooner they get home, the sooner he can escape the conversation and his thoughts.

They arrive at their apartment in one piece. “The traffic here hasn’t changed. It’s still better than America’s.” Hwamin says with a tired laugh. The two boys lift the luggage into the place, both of them huffing at the amount of effort they had to exert.

“Just what did you pack…” San mutters in disbelief. There was no way a luggage that was roughly the same size as his usual luggage, could be heavier than what he carries in his months long tours.

“Some snacks that they like, and for you. Also heard you were into plush dolls, so..” explained the other as he pushes the luggage into the living room for him to unpack what he can use for the night.

“Hwamin, you can fix your things later. Aren’t you tired?” You ask as you bring the two men some food to snack on. It was already too late for any restaurant to be open unless they wanted to drink then that’s another topic. Just as he managed to grab his clothes for the night and the following day, he manages to toss a small packet of your favorite chips. It was a gift from the higher beings that you had quick reflexes to catch the packet mid-air.

“Don’t think I forgot, kid. To answer your question, I am but still riding that freedom out of a plane y’know?” was his return as he downs his water. San on the other hand, had front row seats to how the two of you talk. Is this how his friends felt when he and you would be that sickeningly sweet couple or worse? San manages to finish his glass of water before rising from his seat. He makes it a point to press a kiss on your forehead before bidding the both of you a good night.

“I’ll see you two in the morning.” were his only words the entire night before he retreats to his room. Hwamin and you look at him slip away, one out of curiosity, the other out of concern.

“Is he okay?” Hwamin asks.

“He has a long day tomorrow..” You trail off. It was true but you don’t sound that convincing even to yourself. You shake your head and get up as well. “Come on, I’ll show you your room and where the bathroom is.” After having done as you said, you retreated into your shared room with San for the next few days.

You peek into the room and already find him in bed. A sigh slips through your lips, quietly getting your sleep wear and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up after a long day. You then quietly slip into bed next to him, your arm lightly resting on his waist.

What you didn’t know was that San was still awake the entire time. Instead of sleeping, he was on his phone while you were still talking to Hwamin, hiding his phone when you entered the room and doing the same when you slipped into bed. He hated how his emotions were slowly making him act out. He didn’t like how you looked so concerned over him when he hushed up as you and Hwamin conversed. He didn’t want to let you know how shitty his emotions were either. How many talks have the both of you exchanged in the past about his insecurities and jealousy? Even before being a couple, the both of you have talked about his jealousy streak and until now, it still affects him.

If he was still going to be this jealous and insecure over your relationship, did he even deserve you at all?

San woke up to his phone alarm buzzing. 5AM. He had to get ready for his schedules today. He looks to his side to see you, still peacefully asleep. If he was jealous last night of how you and Hwamin clicked so naturally, he’s jealous now of how you’re able to get a few more hours of sleep. He lets his lips graze against your temple, letting your arms now wrap around the seal plush toy a fan gave him. When he rises from your bed, you shuffle and whine slightly, slipping in and out of consciousness. San quickly hushes you, “Go back to sleep, babe.”. He quietly gets ready for his day, putting everything he needs for the day in his backpack. Just as he steps out of his room, he’s greeted by Hwamin fixing his luggage. “Oh-- hey, morning.” He greets, awkwardly.

Hwamin looks up, smiling brightly at the male. Damn, how was it possible for anyone to be this smiley at this hour? He takes it as an effect of jetlag. “Morning, San! You’re up early too.” He says as he puts his things aside. Hwamin’s amber eyes finally take notice of San’s outfit. “Ah, right, they told me you were gonna have a long day today. Good luck with work!” San finds himself feeling awkward with such an open personality at this hour, rubbing the back of his neck. He bows to the male and makes his way to the door.

“Oh yeah, they won’t be up until around three hours later. So if you’re hungry, be our guest and cook something if you need.” He calls out from the door, quietly slipping out. It’s only when the manager picks him up that he lets out the groan he’s been aching to let out. The manager hands him his breakfast for the day, letting the male rant what has happened in the past few hours.

“San, if you don’t want to deal with him, just sleep at the dorm with the boys for the entire week.” The manager had a point. You wouldn’t have to deal with his jealousy fueled antics. Yet, he also knew that you’d want to have him and Hwamin interact.

Taking the easy way out just wasn’t him.

He shakes his head as he starts to eat. “Hyung, I promised them I’d be with them this entire week because of their friend. Going back on my word isn’t me-like right?” That made the manager snort in agreement, remembering the days of trainee San making promises and actually keeping them no matter how crazy they were.

“Okay but if anything happens, your room with Yunho is still there.”

You wake up to an empty bed and a seal plushie smiling up at you. 8:30AM. You push yourself up and look at your phone.

[ Sannie ] Don’t forget to eat breakfast! I’ll be home late today :(

You send him a heart sticker as you start your day. You worked as an editor and writer for an online magazine so you were blessed to be able to work from home but for today, you had to give Hwamin a ride to his meeting. Maybe you could work on your articles there.

You quickly get ready for the day but are slowed down by the smell of… were those pancakes? You peek out, already in your outdoor clothes. Hwamin was setting down a small stack of pancakes for the both of you in the living room. “Morning sleepyhead.” He teases, gesturing at you to take a seat.

“Since when did you know how to cook?!” You ask incredulously. The pancakes were topped with some fruits you still had in the refrigerator. “Since I started living with my girlfriend-- well fiance” He notes, casually. “Oh yeah, I didn’t make coffee for you since I don’t even know if you’re drinking coffee now also.. How do you even make your coffee machine work?”

You stop him quickly, putting a strawberry tipped fork at his face. “You’re what!?” Good morning to you indeed. “Also, yes I drink coffee! I’ll teach you the coffee machine later.”

He laughs. Clearly nothing has changed. He brings out his phone to show you the lucky girl. “Met her in one of my business classes. Dude, if I could just introduce the two of you..” He says with such a dreamy sigh.

“You are telling me all of this later. Right now, we have pancakes to eat and an hour drive to your meeting.” You say with more energy than a cup of cold brew could give you.

You spend the next few hours working on articles, making sure all of these were already good enough to be sent to the layout team. A few tables over, Hwamin was discussing deals with other heavy names in the industry. You decide to shoot San a message in the midst of your break.

[ To: Sannie ] Make sure you get something to eat eventually!

A quick glance at the time. He was going to perform in a few minutes so you decide to look for a live stream. You managed to find one just in time to see them step on stage and be in position. It didn’t take much of a brain to know that ATEEZ was a force to be reckoned with. You’ve watched San become who he is, through the ups and downs, and though you weren’t a performer, your eyes have become accustomed to understand the tricks and trades of their art.

This time, your eyes catch sight of how San performs a little harder than usual. While to fans, this might look like he was embodying the entire piece, and to a degree that’s true. To you, you knew just how hard San can go when his performance is fueled by something personal. Today was one of those days and you were a little worried if something had happened prior. Despite that, you had to give the boys credit where it was due.

[ To: Sannie ] you guys did well today! I’m so proud of you, babe. ^^

You tell Hwamin that you’ll be in the coffee shop next to this restaurant to continue with your work before scurrying away to not disrupt the meeting any longer.

San on the other hand was breathing harder than usual, hunched over as he tries to get air into his aching lungs. Who knew performing such a strong song would aid in him dealing with his own personal issues. He’s winded from performing so hard while they still had another performance to go to that day. Performing with an unfocused mind was dangerous, he of all people knows this. They can’t risk another injury: Jongho was still recovering from his leg injury and Seonghwa could barely sit comfortably from his hip injury. If he were to get injured, it was going to be a bigger issue and a longer delay for their next album.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jongho calls to him.

The fox-like male shakes his thoughts away as he detaches the in ears and mic from his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He rasps out before taking small sips of water. The youngest doesn’t take his word for it but drops it. They had to get ready to bounce to their next schedule. Their staff has already packed everything up for them so all they had to do was get their personal belongings then bounce. San follows the rest of the members as he reads through your texts and it just makes his chest hurt more than it already does.

Your words were genuine but why doesn’t he feel them to be so?

The ride to the next schedule was quiet, everyone catching up on sleep after waking up so early for those five to eight minutes on stage. “Hyung, what time will our schedule end?” San mumbles to Seonghwa, his head resting against the window. The eldest looks over at the burdened male. From one look, Seonghwa already knew what was in his mind.

“Probably 2 AM.. and San?”

“Yeah?”

“Same problem?”

That made him sigh in exhaustion. Besides you, Seonghwa was one of the most observant to the mood shifts among the members. Seonghwa didn’t need him to expound. He just needed to let San know that the members are there for them and that you weren’t going anywhere. As much as this guy was particular with how he speaks to people around him, he could be careless when it came to himself.

“San, you really need to talk to them soon.”

San knew what he meant by that. The last time he kept it to himself was horrific for everyone but right now, he just didn’t have the heart to do it. Not when Hwamin was going to be at home whenever he was too. He just nods at Seonghwa’s words but his thoughts swam with insecurities and constant comparisons he put himself against your best friend. He closes his eyes, trying to get some shut eye before they’ll be back on their feet for who knows how long. He falls asleep eventually but still his mind was clouded with thoughts and questions, all of which are baseless.

He knows this but he feels powerless to it.

Hongjoong wakes them up when they arrive at their last schedule for the day. He had to admit that having grown so much in a span of two years had its cons. One of them was having to perform in three different points of an entire concert. Being the opening, the middle and closing was to a degree a good thing but when you’re riddled by insecurities and less sleep. It’s just a bad combination for him.

San finally arrives home and all the lights are closed to which he assumes that you and Hwamin are sleeping. It’s only when he enters when he notices the stray light that’s still on in the kitchen. He sees you. He sees you still on your laptop working-- or at least it looks like you’re still working. Without another word, he finds himself nuzzling against your neck, arms wrapped around your torso.

“Welcome home, babe.” You murmur. Just as you were about to rise and get him some food, he tightens his hold around you. “Baby, it’s late.. You need to eat.” A gentle chide that had him whining against your neck but relenting to your concern. A quick peck to the top of his head was his reward for listening then he slips onto the chair next to yours. He doesn’t mean to but he catches sight of what’s on your laptop screen. Short clips of his performances today, along with what fans have been talking about.

“You watched this performance too?” San asks, raising his eyes to your figure. Though he couldn’t see you nod. You do.

“How can I not?” You say in return as you make sure the portions were enough for him. “I always watch your performances, babe. No matter how late or early they are.” There it was again. That pang in his chest that tells him you deserve so much better. So much better than a man who comes home and leaves home at odd times, who leaves home for months on end. He swallows all of it with the food you’ve made for him. He wants to cry but he’s too tired.

“How was your day?” He asks after a few spoonfuls. Your voice lulls him to peace. You tell him about your day, joking about becoming Hwamin’s chaperone in his stay here. Even if your voice brings him to peace, his thoughts bring him chaos. Where your voice ends, the comparisons begin. How would it be if he did a “normal” job? Would things be better? Would he have even met you?

Once he is finished with his late dinner (or was it an early breakfast), he waits for you. You raise the question of what his schedule will be for tomorrow. “Thankfully it’s not as killer as today’s but I still have a photoshoot for tomorrow and an interview.” He says through an exhausted chuckle. You look at him properly after washing the dishes. He looked so worn out. He hasn’t even removed his makeup.

“Let’s wash you up and get you ready for bed, babe. It’s been a long day. I’ll wake you up for your schedule tomorrow okay?”

He’ll take what he can get to put these demons away from his head.

He wakes up to you gently shaking him awake. “Rise and shine, baby. I made you some waffles.” That was enough to get him to sit up. The bedhead makes you chuckle. “Go get freshened up. Your breakfast’s ready.” You say as you pat his hips before leaving the room. He rubs his eyes, and finds his hands free of any makeup residue. Did you help clean him up? The man looks at his phone. 10 AM. His photoshoot and interview were at 2 PM. Enough time for him to wake up and be a proper human being before facing society. He pushes himself out of bed, staggering to the bathroom to wake up.

By the time he comes out of his room in a fresh set of clothes, he’s greeted by the scent of waffles and coffee. “Where’s Hwamin?” He asks, feeling a little odd even in his own space to the absence of your best friend.

You slide his share towards him. “His business partners picked him up, earlier today. I think they’re meeting other potential brand partners?” You return with a shrug of your shoulders, business was never your forte after all.

He nods, a part of him a little relieved to at least have the morning with you to himself. As he slowly eats, he finds his mind going back to these inner demons.

10:45 AM.

“Babe?”

“Yes?”

“Can we talk…?”

It’s crazy how three words can make your heart skip a beat. While the other three words makes either of you feel lighter, these three make you feel heavy. Your eyes tear away from your laptop screen, wondering what has been in his head. The look on his face made it easy to know that this was going to be one of those talks. You put your laptop aside and face him properly.

“What’s been going on, babe?”

He picks at his food almost pitifully. The look on your face hurts him more than usual because he knows he’s at fault for putting such a look on your face. “I just…” he starts but he’s unable to find the words to properly articulate his turmoil. “It’s so stupid.” he continues out of frustration.

“It’s not stupid, San. If it affects you this much then it’s something important.”

His features morph into something like a plea. A plea to help him straighten his thoughts out, to save him from these demons that continue to fuel his insecurities. “Insecurities…” he trails off again, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “It’s just, I have this small fear that you’d eventually leave me. I haven’t even known Hwamin properly but seeing how you two are gave me the idea that you deserve someone better. Someone who doesn’t come home or leave at the weirdest times. Someone who can stay with you through anything. His work’s more stable than mine too if you think about it.” The longer he goes on, the more his words sound convoluted and all you can do as he lets this out is to hold his hand. You listen carefully, letting him know that you’re paying attention to every single word. It’s when he starts to look like he’s about to cry that you sit next to him and have him wet your skin with his tears of frustration and exhaustion. The build up of stress from his work and the sudden presence of your friend and his insecurities had climaxed into this melt down.

You let him cry quietly, his hands clinging to your shirt as if it were his life line. It takes a while before his breathing evens out and that’s when you peek at his features, wiping away the wet trail of tears on his cheeks. “Babe..” You start and you tip his chin to have him look at you in the eye. “Again and again. I will always be here to fight your demons away. I’m not going anywhere without you. You’re the only one I want and this life I have with you is miles better than a life with anyone else.” You say. Your lips press light kisses against his eyelids, the tip of his nose, his chin then his lips. “Hwamin is simply my best friend. Nothing more. Even if your work brings you to the otherside of the world, I will gladly follow if you ask. Even if I tell you to not question how you deserve me or what not, I’ll be here to remind you every single time. It’s because I love you.”

He smiles. Smiles wide enough for his dimples to show and while it doesn’t make his eyes turn into small crescents, it’s wide enough to speak of relief. He presses his lips against yours again. “I love you so much.” He declares quietly, his forehead leaning against yours and you can’t help but giggle.

“I love you too, babe. Now go eat! You still got a schedule later!” You tease him as you decide to feed this baby of yours before shooing him off to get ready.

The next few days go by without a hitch. Hwamin’s meetings were already done and he was already flying back in two days. He and Hwamin have become friends as if they’ve been friends longer than you have with Hwamin. He found his insecurities to be a little childish considering him and Hwamin were now bonding over video games. Especially after knowing that he was already engaged to his long time girlfriend. If bonding can be considered as both of them trying to beat the other in a classic game of Tekken. You had left them alone for the rest of the day as you had to go on errands for your work.

San starts to squeak in panic as he tries to avoid the final blow from Hwamin but all his efforts go down the drain as Hwamin takes the winning hit.

“Rematch!!”

“Nah, I won fair and square San.”

As they look through another arena, their conversation turns back to Hwamin. It felt all the more childish when he realized this guy was already engaged. “You’re getting married when?” San asks as he tries to choose a better fighter this time.

“Next year but right now, we’re both focusing on our work.” He explains as tries to avoid the rapid kicks and tosses San tries to land on him. The two bounce from topics of relationships, you, health and work, almost acting like siblings.

By the time you entered the room, they were still at it. Only now they were trying their own skills at playing dirty in a racing game. You couldn’t believe it really but you were happy. Two of your favorite boys in your life, being in good terms with each other to the point they were fighting it out through a video game.

It was San who notices your presence first. “Hey babe!” He says almost in a hurry to try and beat Hwamin’s player. You watch the TV as the boys start to try and distract each other in order to win. San eventually wins with a few seconds on his side, causing Hwamin to groan in defeat. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a punk phase back in grade school?”

You stare at Hwamin and he looks away as if he hadn’t heard anything. “Give me the other controller. I’m making sure I beat both of you in this.”

The three of you were at the airport. This time to drop off Hwamin. You had to fight the tears from spilling. It was a good week you had to admit despite the rough start, for it to end so quickly had admittedly made you a little emotional. No wonder you and San were an item. Hwamin pats San’s back. “Make sure to take care of them okay?” San nods with a determined grin.

“Congrats on your engagement too. Can’t wait to see the both of you make it official.”

Hwamin then gives you an almost bone crushing hug. “Beat his ass in Tekken for me.” He jokes. You roll your eyes at him and give him a playful jab at his abdomen. “On a more serious note, thank you really. You’ve grown well. I better see you in my wedding.” He says as he walks backwards, waving at the both of you. The both of you wave at him until he becomes a small speck.

The two of you return to your car and San couldn’t help but steal a quick peck on your cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing. I’m just thankful for having you by my side.”

“Always.”

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez san #my writings

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swampofiniquity · 4 years

Text

Warning Signs (Leon Kennedy x Reader

Part Two of Point / Counterpoint

Rated: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2,088

Cross-posted from AO3

Summary: Leon calls you for a favor and your night devolves from there.

Part One

You hated driving through D.C.

It was always a nightmare of clueless tourists, reckless locals that had lost their regard for personal safety, and insane taxi driver’s that you swore must have all been taught by the same drunk asshole of a driver’s ed instructor. The lights never went your way, half the time a block or whole street would be closed for a parade or movie shoot or some other inconvenience. A couple of years of living in the city had taught you two things.

One - America needed to invest more in public transportation. And two - never try to drive anywhere in rush hour traffic.

The last of which meant Leon Kennedy owed you big time.

If any other human being had asked you to pick them up between the hours three and seven pm, you’d have laughed and given them directions to the nearest Metro station. People who you would otherwise not think twice about taking a bullet for either needed to wait until a more reasonable traffic hour, or find alternate transportation. But Leon was different.

While technically your superior at the DSO, he was also your best friend and a man that so rarely asked for help that his phone call asking you to come pick him up from the White House was practically the equivalent of spotting a unicorn running through the National Mall.

He had just gotten back from nearly two weeks of grueling back-to-back international peace summits with the president and apparently the pair had decided to celebrate their success by cracking open a bottle of executive bourbon. Now Leon needed someone with a high enough security clearance to come pick his exhausted, drunk ass up and take it the fuck home. You had the lucky distinction of being the first person he called.

And yeah, you kinda also owed him for watching your cat last time you had an out of country assignment. So, you hopped in the car, fully prepared to curse and rage your way through an infuriating hour or so of whiteknuckle fun.

Mercifully, Leon was waiting for you outside when you finally made it through the security gate. He was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses you had never seen before, despite the sun having gone down at least an hour ago, and was leaning crookedly up against a wall like he was fighting gravity on a sinking ship. It was somehow both alarming and utterly hilarious. You couldn’t remember the last time you'd ever seen him so out of sorts and had to fight the urge to document the moment for posterity. Or blackmail.

You rolled the window down as you pulled up beside him. "Hey sailor," you sang, as he struggled to push himself upright. "Need a ride?"

"Why am I already regretting this?" Leon grumbled, his scratchy voice about a whole octave lower than normal. Despite clearly being wasted he managed to shove himself and his duffel bag into your car without incident.

"Oh please, you missed me and you know it." You flashed him a cheeky grin, that he subtly returned.

"That’s presumptuous." He fumbled with the seat-belt for a moment before finally managing to get the latch to click.

You leaned across the console and pinched the meat of his arm through his jacket in retaliation, before pulling him into the closest approximation of a hug you could manage with the seat-belt pulling you back. It had been more than a month since you'd been this close to the man and seeing him again, alive and whole, made your chest clench unexpectedly.

Leon hummed and returned the embrace, burying his face in your hair. He was so warm, but a shiver still went up your spine as you felt his breath on your neck. "Good to see you too, gorgeous."

It was something he had always called you, a leftover from the early days of your relationship when Leon tried relentlessly and futilely to seduce you into bed with him. Something you had heard more than enough times to render it practically meaningless. And normally, it wouldn't affect you in the slightest, but the fact that you were in his arms and could feel his words as clearly as you could hear them, made the pet name seem so much more intimate.

You cleared your throat and pulled back, praying you didn't come off as awkward as you suddenly felt. "Yeah, well uh good… let's get you home then."

_________________________________________________________

A dark, humid night had long since set in by the time you pulled up to Leon’s building just outside of the main metropolitan area and only about a ten minute walk from your own apartment. After a very graceful and coordinated trek up the three flights of stairs to his door, you used your key and let yourself in, stepping aside for Leon and his duffel bag to slink past.

“You want me to order you some food or something? That new pizza place down the street finally opened up while you were gone.” You flipped on his living room light just in time to see Leon go limp and flop face down on his couch.

He let out a dramatic groan and went still.

“You dead?” You asked, fighting back a smile. He hadn’t even bothered to kick his boots off, opting instead to rest them on a throw pillow like an animal. “After all that effort to pick you up across town and bring you back here...”

“Mmmmphm,” he grumbled into the cushion before turning his head so you could actually understand him. “Yeah, very dead, sorry.”

“What am I going to tell your boyfriend, the president?” You bent down and removed his shoes, tossing them vaguely towards the door before lifting his legs and taking a seat beneath them.

There was a lot of very dignified flailing and wriggling as Leon turned himself over onto his back to level a glare up at you. “Not boyfriends.”

This was one of the reasons why you loved drunk Leon. Normally, he’d barely acknowledge your stupid jokes and attempts at teasing, but give the man a few too many drinks and he became the perfect target for a little friendly ribbing. You couldn’t help yourself. “You’re right, I forgot he’s married. So that’d make you his side piece.”

A pillow grazed the top of your head as it soared past you. “Rude.”

“Sorry, work wife?”

Another pillow, this one aimed a little better, hit you in the shoulder and bounced off onto the floor. You laughed. “Hey, just because he is never going to leave her for you doesn’t mean you can just throw things at me!”

“I’m out of pillows anyway,” Leon responded. Then he raised one of the socked feet on your lap up, nearly touching your nose. You squealed and grabbed his ankle, trying to save your face, but despite your efforts you still caught a whiff of the not-so-pleasant aroma of a foot that had spent most of the day stuck in a boot during international travel.

“That is so gross.” You glared at his smirking face.

While you were distracted, Leon snuck his other foot up and managed to gently caress your cheek. Squealing again, you jerked away. “Oh I’m going to make you for real dead, Kennedy!”

He laughed as you slipped out from under his legs and snatched one the pillows he had thrown at you off the floor. You stood over him, just out of his reach. “Apologize,” you demanded, pillow raised threateningly.

“Ha, you first.” Leon sat up, folding his arms across his chest.

You cocked your arm back and brought the pillow down hard, aiming to hit him in the stomach, but even drunk Leon was too fast. He caught the pillow and jerked it back, bringing you toppling down onto his lap. At the last second, you managed to brace your hand on the back of the couch to avoid knocking foreheads.

“Careful now.” Two strong hands latched onto your hips to still your squirming as you tried to right yourself. “Watch your knees down there.”

Your skin felt flushed as you caught his meaning. “Sorry,” you muttered, feeling embarrassed around him in a way you hadn’t in years. You gingerly adjusted your knees that were dangerously close to his crotch and moved so they were on either side of his thighs.

And boy was that position just so much worse. You resisted the urge to hide your hot face in his neck. Your brain was working overtime, rationalizing that the only reason you were this affected by straddling your best friend had to be the current dry spell plaguing your love life. That was the only plausible explanation for the sudden awareness of all the places Leon’s body was in contact with your own.

“That’s better,” he said quietly, warm hands still firm on your hips.

The air suddenly felt heavy, thick like you were trapped under a woolen blanket in the summertime. You could practically hear the alarm bells going off. This was dangerous territory.

Fighting back panic, you lifted your head up to face him, fully intending to crack another stupid joke or make fun of him, anything to ease the tension that had fallen. But the look in his eyes made the words stick to your tongue like a carpet tack.

Leon slowly gathered a lock of your hair that had fallen into your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand lingered on your neck. “Hey there.”

“Hi” you breathed, heart beating double time in your chest. You were frozen, completely unable to move even if you had wanted to.

“You’re so soft,” Leon’s voice rumbled out, as he ever so gently ran his hand across your neck and under your chin, the calluses on his fingers catching on your skin like fine grain sandpaper. Goosebumps erupted at his touch and you bit back a contented sigh.

“T-thanks,” you muttered, closing your eyes and tilting your head back as you let him explore your skin. It felt so good being touched so tenderly, so affectionately, that it didn’t matter who was behind it.

A gentle yet firm hand on the back of your neck brought you closer, the fingers tightening as Leon pressed his lips against yours. You shuddered, your body wound so tightly that you were afraid you’d snap at any moment. This was a bad idea for more reasons than you could count, but you were finding it impossible to care in the moment.

It wasn’t until the kiss deepened, when you parted your lips and tasted the bourbon on Leon’s tongue that you came to your senses. He was drunk and you were sober. What the hell was wrong with you?

You scrambled off his lap, feeling your stomach churn with shame and embarrassment. “Oh god.”

Your sudden movement must have jolted Leon back to some semblance of normal as well because he cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “I’m a drunken asshole. I am so sorry. ”

“No, I shouldn’t have-”

“But it was clearly my-”

You both started and trailed off, stewing for a long moment in your collective chagrin. Neither of you had a protocol for accidentally making out with your best friend. The only sound in the room was the distant droning of cicadas in the humid night outside before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Um maybe we forget this happened?” Your voice sounded so small to your own ears.

Leon perked up. “Yes, good. Nothing to talk about because it never happened.”

You nodded enthusiastically, trying not to let how quickly he latched onto the idea sting. You recommended it for fuck’s sake. “Exactly.”

Leon let out a huge breath and slumped back into the couch. “I either need another drink or to sleep for ten years. Or both.”

“Well, best of luck with that. I’m going to head out.” You made a show of patting your pockets for your car keys, still feeling horribly awkward.

Leon frowned, but otherwise didn’t move from his prone position. “Okay. Wanna catch lunch tomorrow?” He asked, finishing the question around a yawn.

“Yeah, call me.” Normally you would have hugged him or kissed his cheek, but the thought of getting in his personal space again made your skin feel too tight, so you settled on a halfhearted wave. “Goodnight, Leon.”

“Night gorgeous.”

You spent the whole ride home fighting the stupid grin that kept trying to creep onto your face.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil fanfic

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missingartist · 4 years

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The Witcher’s Mate- Chapter 20

In his 350 years, he had thought he had seen it all. Vesemir the unofficial head Witcher had spent years traipsing up, and down the country, he knew every path and detail of any town worth knowing to a Witcher. However, in his lifetime he did not foresee having to deal with a Witcher’s mate. Barmin, his master had glossed over it in training, dismissing the idea of it being any use. In his training, he and other fledgeling Witchers had become intrigued with the concept, but the master had been dismissive enough to toss them a copy of The Witcher- A History. With a whole chapter dedicated to the Witcher’s Mate. Being privileged enough to witness the building of the Witcher home he knew every book placed in the library and this battered copy preserved the only mentions of soulbonds in the entire Witcher section of the library. Barmin had mentioned that it was a Witcher’s Curse to be bound to another who would wither and die or who would face dying of a broken heart as the life of a Witcher was a dangerous one before placing the book back on the shelf where it gathered dust for the past 300 years. Till now that was.

Making his way up the gritty staircase, books wedged underneath his arms, he let the soft glow of the candlestick light his way from the archive and through the winding halls. Mermaid literature held little room in the main library; Witchers had no dealing with Merfolk for 400 years, he himself only met two. The first was a stunning female, long green hair and pale olive skin, a tail of metallic blue scales, pulling the fresh Witcher from a stormy sea when drowners pinned him down in the murky depth. She had all the makings of the predator, savage and vicious yet in the cave which she dragged him, she had all the tenderness of a maiden. She was inquisitive and powerful, and to the newly made Witcher, she was direct in her wants, spending the night and day making very extensive use of his body. A smile stretched across his feature, and he remembers the dalliance of his youth. The other had been a Trition, the male of the species, while not a beautiful as the female he had been majestic in his airs. He had been just as predatory as the female but seemed to lack in power of the female, it did not have the sharp barbs of teeth, or the ability to walk on earth demanded help to free a water sprite from a tree curse. If indeed the Adva girl was a mermaid it would cause a lot of difficulties. Mermaids where predators plain and simple, with very complex social structures and even more complicated mating rituals, one that they kept closely guarded. This was going to be near impossible. Witcher bonding was going to be difficult enough to get their heads around it didn’t really need the extra stress of figuring how a mermaid bonded. He envisaged many nights slaving over a manuscript.

The library fire is dying. The low flame dominated the dwindling wood giving the room a soft light. He had, on being regaled with all the details excused himself to the archives, Barmin having moved all the Merfolk down there to add a room to the main collection. It had taken the best part of the afternoon to weedle through the mass of papers and books that had chaotically thrown into to achieve with no accord. Dropping the various scrolls and manuscripts, he settled himself into his leather-bound seat and placed the candlestick back in its holder—the soft flare of flame illuminating a slim figure perched on the window ledge.

‘Dove, I thought you would be in bed.’

‘Not sleepy…been an eventful day.’ Ciri rolled her shoulder, standing.

Moving from her perch, she fed the fire three thick blocks of wood, watching as the room was lit up with the roaring orange flame. The food she had gathered of dried meat, cheese and wine still sat untouched, Jaskier had tried to tempt Adva with the cheese and wine to no avail. Picking up the jug, she poured two generous helpings into the spare goblets and sat opposite the master Witcher.

‘I don’t think I would be able to sleep if I had seen Geralt finally put it to Yennefer. I would have properly celebrated so hard I would be drunk for a fortnight.’ The older man laughed picking up his goblet and throw back his contents, red droplets staining his white beard pink. ‘It would be Geralt that got mixed up with a soulmate who had to be a mermaid. He can’t live simply, even as…Has someone fixed the wall.’ Vesemir gawped at the wall by the window. The peeling stone wall had been replastered and the drafted that has previously whistled through the library on a cold night was no more. He had meant to repair it for the last fortnight, but the north-west staircase was in need of refurbishing, the barn needed to be mended, three chimneys needed sweeping and renovating and the long list of other restorations.

‘Adva and she reputtied the windows.’ the answer was tense and dry as she brought her cup to her lips and took a sip of the strong liquid.

‘She’s been her ten hours, and she replastered a wall and fixed a window? At least Geralt has the brains to pick a useful mate; I wonder if she does roofing.’ Vesemir gruffed, filling his goblet and downing it once again.

Ciri could feel annoyance rise within her, Vesemir was always dismissive and so distant from his emotions he couldn’t understand her concern. Since arriving, Adva had used the plaster in the hallway, despite their protest she spent most of the day fixing the wall and cleaning, Jaskier had tried to pull her away, but she looked near tears and battered their concerns away. Both Jaskier and Ciri sank back and watched Adva flit around the room, dusting, mopping and polishing. Ciri had never seen the library look so clean. In the space of ten hours, she had fixed the library and cleaned three full rooms before her eyelids began to droop, and Jaskier scooped her away before she could protest and tucked her tightly into a bed in one of the many rooms while Ciri searched through many garments that had cluttered up closets and chests from long forgot herbalists and Witchers that had come and gone to replace her outfit.

‘Vesemir! I am worried about Adva; a person doesn't start repairing buildings when they learn that they are a Mermaid and a Soulmate.’

‘And you know the extensive guide on how someone needs to react when they discover they are a Mermaid or a soulmate, was hardly worth me spending all day in the archives with such an expert already here.’ Vesemire scoffed, his eyes glancing against the bundle he had gathered with some concern. The few books that he found would have little in them to help with their… unique situation.

‘That not what I meant.’ the young woman sulked, pushing her bottom lip out as far as it could go.

‘Do you remember when you discovered your bloodline? It took us three weeks to stop you hacking the dummy to bits. People cope with things differently. If I had to meet Yennefer again, I probably devote myself to fixing the whole castle. You care a lot about Adva, don’t ya? Empathy is the downfall of a Witcher.’ Vesemire scolded. He didn’t know how many time he had tried to drum that into her and Geralt.

‘I…I do I see a lot of myself in her. Alone and confused, betrayed and powerful but scared about it.’ Ciri sighed.

It hurt to admit; it was traumatic. The early years of her life had been so lovely, but the last decade, wave after wave of people had tried to claim her for themselves. Kings seeking power, Witches seeking power, Cults seeking power. They were all the same, trying to imprisoner, impregnate or kill her. It left her feeling insecure and uncertain; she had been betrayed so many time she had lost count. That unlimited power made her a target for every crazed group that emerged from the shadows, but it also made her scared, the power within her had a fine line between chaos and control, and with that enormous pressure to remain in control. Her deepest fear was herself, and what she could do or become, she sensed that same fear in Adva.

‘You have only just met her, don’t get too attached. Yennefer will find a way to get rid of her if not that she’ll turn into a she-daemon knowing Geralt's taste in women.’ Vesemir scoffed dryly.

Geralt was the son he had never had, but his taste in a woman was shocking, there had been that redhead succubus who tried to eat him. The doomed princess in the tower, Renfri. Three herbalists, Triss and Yennefer. He should just stick to a whore like everyone else, it would save a lot of time and effort, and the damage Kaer Morhan would be minimal, the amount of time Yennefer had destroyed something because of a petty argument was unbelievable. Ciri stood abruptly and started to pace.

‘Dove, what troubles you?’

‘I…Yennefer has been….I dunno. She has been difficult…’

‘Yennefer difficult? Never?’ The laughedffff trickled from the witcher lips.

‘Before they…parted. Yennefer did something….horrid and tried to get Geralt to finish it… he refused, and Yennefer was vicious, and then the spell broke and….’

‘Went batshit?’

‘Batshit is an understatement…. I thought Geralt was wrong… that he should have but I dunno; I was so angry I was blinded.’ Ciri winced at her confession.

For the most part, she never admitted when she was wrong; she was too stubborn for that; her pride would not allow her the humiliation of accepting it. But there were times, time like these when things became a cluster fuck that she could admit it. Her love for her mother figure, her nurturer and teacher had blinded her to the sheer despicable nature of Yennefer plan, so much so it had made her hate Geralt. But with every passing day, she realised how stupid she had been. Looking back made her wince with shame as she recalled all the unpleasant thoughts that went through her mind and the things she said. Ciri felt ashamed of herself, more so now she was in the Witcher’s Fortress where the memories of their relationship[ resurfaced, all the times Geralt had protected her from the violent tongue lashing of Vesemir for wondering off and training on her own. The times when he gave her a silent hug because he knew what she needed.

‘Don’t blame yourself, Yennefer has a knack for playing on one's emotions.’ The master witcher soothed in his gruff voice.

Looking up, she felt herself smiling. For all his stubborn grumpiness Vesemir was the kindly grandfather figure she needed. The bias spectator, guiding her through Geralt and Yennefer many, many arguments with a scoff and an eye roll.

‘I worry about what she will do to Adva. She already seems resigned to being cast aside, and Yennefer will play on that.’

The confession was not something she needed to say out loud; all of them were worried about what Yennefer would do; even Adva could sense it. Yennefer was capable of being truly malicious especial again those who had wronged her,

‘Maybe that is for the best. A Witcher’s life is one fought with danger having a soul mate would be even more so.’

‘You should have seen the way Geralt was with her Vesemir. The way he looked at her was…’ Ciri paused for a moment in thought ‘it was worshipping…I don’t even know how to describe it and when she flinched away from him, I thought he could break down. When she went through the portal, I thought he was going to roar in after her. I love Yennefer, I always will, nothing and no one will change that, but at the minute I don’t even what to be near her.’

A dull pain began to throb in the corner of his left eye; there was not enough ale and wine in the whole of the castle to get him through the next couple of weeks. Damn Geralt. First, he had brought Yennefer, who destroyed every room she stayed in and threw furniture carved by their Witcher founders out the window. The elder had lost count of how many times in the past decade, Geralt had found himself at the end of a difficult situation. And this situation was the worse; soulmates were messy, and for Witcher, mates were rare and unpredictable. Geralt would be a muscle-bound mess of raging hormones, worse than when he first mutated and with Yennefer roaming around, lurking in every corner, he could feel the annoyance and irritation begin to build.

‘It will work out, for better or worse. But from what I know about soul bond, they are very powerful, and it would take more then Yennefer to do that….besides if she is that good at repairs, we need to keep her around.’

If he survived this, it would be a miracle.

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Kaer Mohen was beyond anything that she had ever believed. Nestled in the middle of a vast valley, built into a mighty mountain, the almighty structure was awe-inspiring. Surrounded in greenery and limpid pools as far as the eyes could see, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. Inside did not disappoint; it was elegant, chequered marble flooring, latticed woodwork, majestically carved furniture, and rugs that while worn and dusty were exquisite. However, it was sure that the castle had seen better days, gaping holes in the roof leaked into the rooms letting in the local wildlife. Plaster was coming off the wall in large chunks, and a sharp draft came whistling through the castle. Still, it the most amazing place that she had ever seen. The library included. The vast collection of books held in sturdy mahogany shelved held behind thick sheets of glass, it was an extensive collection, most in languish she had never seen before, and the desire to pull each one out and read was overwhelming. The library seemed sadly empty just one large table and one comfy chair perched in the middle, books and quills surrounding the work area.

Vesemir seemed to be making the most of her, giving her a list of chores in the morning and then after their midday meal they would group together and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in the library. In all honestly, that was fine with her, she didn’t want to think about soulbond or Geralt. A sickness bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Waking up in the bed in a musty room brought back that only the day before she woke in the warmth of the Witcher. At least the chore distracted her from the churn of emotion that built inside of her and the anxiety that came with letting her mind wander.

‘How can you read this.’ Ciri slipped down next to the women who was engrossed in a book that contained mostly scribbled lines and dots. Just looking at the page was enough to give the former princess a headache.

‘Lunch’ Vesemir called slamming what could only be loosely described as a strew on the table. Four clay bowl slide into the various place, as they stared down at the brown slop. ‘That is my famous stew.’

The elder Witcher glared at the bard who grimaced at the pot in front of him. The mixture was brown and gritty, whatever meat was unrecognisable, the smell of a mixture of fermented broth and fried meat, it was not unpleasant, but it was not particularly appetising especially with strange unknown bits floating on the top. Jaskier twisted his face in disgust as he poked at it with his wooden spoon.

‘Famous because it kills anyone who eats it?’ Jaskier question letting the food slide off his spoon with a spatter.

Vesemir stared daggers at the bard as he is inhaling another spoonful of stew, most of it coating his beard.

‘Don’t you have any more books on Merfolk Vesemir?’ Ciri asked, leafing through the pile of red books scattered over the bench.

‘Mermaid isn’t the sort of thing Witchers deal with.’

‘But aren’t they supernatural creature.’ Jaskier retorted his right eyebrow inching up his forehead.

‘Aye, bard they are but never given us cause. Merfolk sticks to deep water and out the way of humans and creature alike. Humans have tried to wage war on them in the early days, but it futile. You aren’t ever gonna win against a creature that can sink whole fleets of ships in one go.’ Another heaping spoonful of stew smeared across his mouth. ‘Time from the time they appear near land but never bother anyone; it does not like they would abandon one of their pod on land…especially a child. I will have enough look in the archive but the literature of the Merfolk in rare. Not many have ever got close enough. I know a while back Geralt helped some duke marry Sh'eenaz, a mermaid, but she became sad, and the couple went back to the sea kingdom.’

‘So we have no idea about anything.’ Ciri spoke, slowly eyes resting on the deflated other woman.

‘You are more than welcome to search down in the archive, but most merfolk literature is hoarded by private collectors.’

‘So we don’t know anything.’ Ciri bite out and throw a thick book across the room, pages fluttering across the marble floor.

Jaskier reached a hand across and took Adva’s giving her a reassuring squeeze. The brown-haired woman closed the book, shoulder sagging.

‘Adva If you promise to cook from now on I will go in the archives myself and battle the army of spiders in search of anything else.’

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Vesemir brought down the axe forcefully as he broke down the log and tossed it into the giant pile of firewood. From his place on the verge, he watched Adva.

Though, not the most skilful and hone in her technique Adva was accomplished. For a simple kitchen, she had a strong stance which made it hard for Ciri to break through her defence. There was no obvious contest between the two, Ciri was the more skilled and her magic more adaptive, there had been several points in which his young ward had the upper hand, but Adva managed to put on the defence, which she played well. The master Witcher didn’t see that predatory creature that he had met in his experience, just a determined young woman, strong and sweet. He found it hard to believe that she could be a mermaid. Her ability with water being the only real characteristic that they shared. There was no killer insisted, no savage passion within her, no flailing tail or hissing fangs, just a scared little girl that he now had to keep safe.

Slamming the axe down Vesemir took himself to the side to watch the pair closely. Ciri seemed to tire of being pushed back, stepped up her attack by using her blink power, teleporting her way around her. The gruff Witcher couldn’t help but smile, the little girl who would sneak off to practice on her own was no a skilled warrior. Adva’s movement became panicked and jilted as she dodged the attack, frustration ebbing in her every movement. Collecting his roofing tools, he made his way across the stall and once against back to the field to collect the ladder. This time Ciri seemed to be on the back foot. Adva’s attacks were precise and direct, one after the other. A water blast threw the young Witcher off her footing, causing her to stumble back, and whip of water then appeared out of nowhere lashing itself across her side and wrapped itself around her wrist slamming her into the dirt.

Vesemir stilled, his body is tensed his eye trained on the pair, grabbing for the axe he embedded in the tree stump. He saw it, the killer instancing, the way her eyes shone that little bit brighter. Ciri recovered well, shifting her body to the left in a blur of blue light escape the confines of the water vines before rolling up on her feet and brushing the dust off.

Adva blinked, several times swallowing heavily as she took a step back as she felt the adrenaline still racing through her vein.

‘Good attack. Never really seen anything like that.’ Ciri smiled, standing to her full height. ‘Next time I won't go so easy on you. I better go see how Jaskier is doing. The spiders have properly cornered him in archives. We will pick this up again tomorrow…but you are going down’ Ciri smirked, nodding at Vesesir before ascending the step of the balcony.

‘I see Ciri found you some clothing, more practical for doing maintenance. You can help me patch up the roof, get the tar and meet m by the ladder.’

Looking down, she pulled at the outfit she had been given from a large box of items left by the various people that passed through. The bottoms were a pair of duelling trousers made from a shammy leather material, making them soft and stretchy, that held her tight across the arse and allowed for free movement. They were at least 50 years old but kept pristine by the mothballs packed in the trunk of clothing. The deep red material suited her and at least didn’t show the dirt from the unkept castle. The top was an oversized tunic that fell to mid-thigh; it was thick enough to keep the chill that had started to cling in the air. A cracked old belt clinched tightly around her waist to keep the oversized garments from slipping off her body completely.

Pushing her way up the steep bank to the courtyard, Adva pulled the bubbling tar from its fire. The courtyard held the shed and the stables it was up at the top of a sharp incline; it leads all the way round to the training grounds which Ciri had been handing her ass to her for the best part of the day, a sense of pride swelled within her as she laid the foul-smelling tar into a bucket. She had managed to keep upright and had a few good hits, she was improving, and her powers had developed in the passing weeks with Triss. Training with Ciri proved that.

When the bucket was full, tentatively she pulled it up the ladder on top of what she thought was a storage shed beside the kitchen. Vesemir was already hard at work, hammering in think sleet slate into the missing patches. Wordlessly, the master witcher tossed her a tarring brush, a thin stick with a rag attached to it and nodded toward the slates. Between the old tiles was a thick layer of tar, filling any minute gaps in which the water to seep through and flood the room beneath. Adva swilled the brush into the thick liquid and plastered around the edges of the shingles.

The height was not her favourite, the mere thought of going any higher made her head spin. They worked in silence for the best part of an hour, as soon as he finished one, she would swoop in and slather the thick goop on the slabs. It was clear to see where Geralt got his mannerisms, the way they both puckered their brow when they were concentrating. The way their eyes shifted as they worked, head shifting at every noise. These features were not different that Geralt could not pass for his son, but Adva had made a deep study of Geralt, his features where sharper, more defined. Both men had strong physic, after years of training and monster hunting, but Geralt's frame seemed bulkier, shoulders broader and arms solid with muscle.

A deep wave of shame consumed her. She had promised herself she wouldn’t think of him, but he crept into her mind. A melancholy fell over her, it was a numbness, at gnawed at her core.

‘Next is the west staircase, I will teach you how to tack and shave down the boards.’ Vesemir grunted as he threw the hammer into the dirt as he made his way down the ladder. Holding out his hand to help Adva down, grabbing the bucket and brush and tossing it to the side.

Adva nodded, thankful for something to do.

‘Never thought a little girl would be much good a roofing you are a strange little thing.’

Adva laughed awkwardly, wiping her hands on her piny. ‘You know what brothel is like, all hand on deck. I cooked, cleaned, mediated, fix roofs, walls, beds.’

‘Not much of a life for a little girl.’ Vesemir stared down at her; it was an uncomfortable gaze, that pierced through her.

The master witcher looked at her, his medallion didn’t vibrate, but there was a warmth to it, just enough to heat the skin beneath the wolfs head. He wasn’t sure that she was a Mermaid, but there was something. Something strange. Something different that he could put his finger on. But now she looked like a scared little girl, a girl being dragged from one bad situation to the next. Tough and hard-working but most of all, frighten of that power within her. It bubbled under the surface, threatening to rear its head.

‘Last time I check I was a woman…well, Mermaid.’ Adva shot him a steely determined look. He wasn’t sure what she was determined about, but it made him give out a snort, it reminded him of Ciri when she first stumbled into his home.

‘Well, Mermaid…we better get back. I think Jaskier is dying for more of my cooking.’ The older man gave her a small smile as he guided them through the courtyard.

For once, he was as near as excited as a Witcher could be to see Yennefer again, as he could tell that sweet little maid was going to give her a run for her money. A deep smirk set into his features, if he had anything to do with it, Yennefer would definitely have a run for her money.

This was supposed to be out last weekend, but drama has got real. I work in a school, and it’s a mess. I have been trying to sort out all my evidence for a qualification I have been doing, which is draining, and family are having health issues. But I am happy to announce that smut is insight. I have been planning out future chapters, and they are looking good.

For those of you who are confused about Adva’s coping strategy, I sort of based it on me. When I get stressed or anxious I turn into a clean freak. Recently, I got so stressed I actually put up several shelves, despite not having anything to put on them. I thought it would make her a little more realist.

I am also having flashes of inspiration for a GeraltxOCxEskel story if anyone is interested. I love Eskel he is like a giant cuddly teddy bear! It properly won't be out till I finish The Witchers Mate, but I am also playing with a squeal which is just a series of one-shots.

Please let me know what you think!

@threepupsinapuddle @broco8 @introvertedmouse @luxyash @vikingsbifrost @pastelblogsposts @wastingmypotential @whitespring21 @ayamenimthiriel @wonderlandfandomkingdom @shesthelastjedi @fandom-lover-4 @sageandberries-png

#geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #Geralt #geralt imagine #the witcher #netflix the witcher #witcher netflix #geralt x oc #geralt x smut

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asterekmess · 4 years

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I've started reading Sterek fic again after years away from fandom (purely because of your posts btw) and there is an alarming number of Stiles being pushed/kicked out of the pack and treated horribly but he still goes out of his way to help and forgives all with random Sterek thrown in at the end. I did not miss that nonsense at all. Why is that so popular?

That’s very sweet of you, and I’m happy that you’ve found a love of fic again!

So, this trope. I...I love this trope. A lot of fans do, obviously.

I’mma put this under a read more, just because I tend to ramble.

First off, I’m sure you’ve noticed that there’s a lot of...side-splitting within the sterek fandom? At least, for those of us who aren’t fans of Scott. You see a lot of “Hale Pack” versus “McCall Pack” stuff. A lot of that comes about because people don’t like that Derek lost his Alpha status (I definitely don’t like it) but also because Derek never actually joins Scott’s pack. He is always on the fringes, whether because he gets put there or because he puts himself there. It’s not hard to separate him from Scott’s group, because he was never a part of it to begin with.

For Sterek shippers, we usually want Stiles to be in Derek’s pack (some people who don’t mind Scott, or even like him, also like to make Stiles a sort of bridge between the two packs? Belonging to both and neither at the same time?) but that is kind of difficult to make when it’s so much more specific in canon about Stiles being in Scott’s pack.

I’ve seen lots of people argue that Scott never had an actual ‘pack’, just a group of friends, or that Lydia and Stiles were never part of his pack, and I don’t know enough meta to say whether that’s right or not.

I do know that throughout the show, Stiles (whether we like it or not) considers Scott his best friend. Many fans of Derek can’t reconcile Derek and Scott ever being close friends because of their history together, and that creates a sort of break. How can Stiles be friends with someone his partner hates, and how can he date someone his best friend hates?

So, writers do their best to separate Stiles from Scott’s pack within their fic. Sometimes it involves the rest of the pack also dispersing and Scott getting left alone, and sometimes the rest of the pack sticks with Scott and Stiles and Derek go off to be their own pack.

When it comes to Stiles getting ‘kicked out’ of the pack, I think it’s important to note that part of that is just the hurt/comfort of it all. How many of us have been cut out of friend groups, or family groups, and had to make our own way and wished there was someone on the outside who would take us in? So, we write that happening, giving Stiles that dream we wish for by having Derek help get Stiles back on his feet, or support him so thoroughly that he never hits the ground in the first place.

Another part has to do with how much more difficult and convoluted it can be to write him peacefully leaving Scott’s pack (since we’ve already established that in these situations, Stiles staying in Scott’s pack is a no-go). There’s so much more to explain when he’s still buddies with everyone and just...leaves anyway? Of course, it can be (and has been) done, but a lot of writers don’t want to put in the extra effort (I am one of them, tbqh).

Another part has surely come about from that scene in the rain. For a lot of Stiles fans, this was the absolute breaking point. Stiles had been kicked out of the pack (I haven’t seen the actual episode myself, so I try v hard not to bring it up in meta, bc I don’t know what the fuck I’m on about) and it became a catalyst for a lot of fics that show Stiles getting shoved away, put on the edges so much like Derek had been, and the two of them finding each other instead.

Now, on to the point of your message. The cases where the trope ends with Stiles forgiving Scott and whoever else was involved in him getting removed from the pack. Obviously, this would be a case by case basis. Every writer has their own reasons and we can only speculate most of the time about why they wrote something a specific way.

Some people like Scott, and want to see him grow. So they use the fic to work out their frustrations with his and Stiles’ uneven friendship, and end it with some forgiveness and leave the characters with the chance to grow back into better friends. Some people like those around Scott and don’t want to have to leave them out of the rest of the story just because they’re part of Scott’s pack and Stiles has left. So, even if they don’t particularly want Scott to be Stiles’ Alpha, they still want Stiles to be able to be close to and interact with Scott’s pack, which requires a bit of forgiveness. Another option, is related to how people perceive Stiles himself. We all project on Stiles’ character a lot, I think. Whether it’s projecting our own personality or just the personality we wish we had, we all do it, so we’ve all got very different perceptions of Stiles’ personality and behaviors.

Some see Stiles as ruthless, take-no-shit badass who will destroy you if you piss him off. The kind of genius who would hack into the local police department and screw with your permanent record. Most of the time, those ‘kinds’ of Stiles’ don’t do any forgiving, and usually they get some kind of revenge. Some see him as a really sensitive, broken, love-starved guy who just wants some fucking friends, damn it. Who would give anything for them and is always willing to help others, even strangers, because being helpful is just so integral to his character. Those ‘kinds’ of Stiles’ usually go running back into the fight to save people who’ve screwed him over, they forgive and they forget because they don’t know how to do anything else. Some people (myself included) see Stiles as a very broken and insecure guy. Not insecure about his body (though, yeah, I’ve written some stuff where he is) or about his own intelligence, but insecure about his relationships with other people. Also, as someone very loyal, to the point of immorality. They see Stiles as a guy with a select group of people that he actually gives a fuck about, and for those people? He is ride-or-die, with you to the end of the line, step into gasoline for you loyal. In those cases, Stiles often forgives people because he can’t bear the thought of not having this person in his life anymore, he isn’t capable of letting go, even if it’s for good reason. He helps them because they’ve been burned into his heart and he cannot watch them hurt or suffer. They are family, and he will burn the world down for them, even if he also kind of hates them?

So, there’s lots of reasons that he would do that, but I understand how frustrating it can be to see it over and over again, especially when you’re really displeased with certain characters (ethan or aiden or scott or peter, etc). The best I can suggest is to block certain tags. Using Scott as an example, rather than searching only for “Scott is a bad friend” or “Scott is a bad Alpha” fics, which would massively cut down on the available fics for you, while also missing ones that may have that content without it being tagged, instead try blocking the opposite tag, so that at least you won’t be getting the fics that have “Scott is a good friend” or “Scott is a good alpha” as a main point of the fic. Again, this will definitely miss some, and you’ll still end up with untagged instances of it, but it will definitely cut down on it. Took me ages to actually think to do it, but I’ve been much happier reading fics since then.

#personal #go for it #anti-scott mccall #no idea what else to tag this with #fic talk #??#Anonymous

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kuroppiii · 4 years

Note

how middle blockers and setters would be if you played minecraft with them !

creeper? aww man ᵕ̈ haikyuu ( setters + middle blockers ) x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : everyone loves minecraft , ⋮⋮ but everyone has a different way they ⋮⋮ play it !

📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛 ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛 ♡ # 3.9𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ this is c*te . i got a bit carried away with it so it took a while , sorry about that ! thanks for the dream machine request again ~ ”

، ミドルブ ✧ ロッカー 🌱 𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿 ...

︴𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗔 𝗞𝗘𝗜 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

you had to convince him to sit down and play with you

he never got the hype

but he’s a sucker for you so he said he’ll only try it “for a few minutes”

you two ended up playing for 4 hours

you had to explain a lot of things to him

guess who fought off the mobs when night fell? hint: it was you.

he probably accidentally hit you a lot when trying to play

wants to start a new world whenever he dies

when you finally manage to establish a base, you literally sigh because it took soooo long

tsuki basically turned vanilla minecraft into educational edition

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

"if you build eight units that way, and I build six units that way— ”

“units??? tsuki you can just call them blocks.”

“yeah, yeah whatever,” tsukishima waved you off from where he sat at his bedroom desk.

so you two went through with tsukishima’s plan and finally, you had a shelter. you let out a breath of relief and allowed yourself to fall back onto his bed before gluing your eyes back to your phone screen. you placed down some torches, a crafting table, a furnace, some chests–the base essentials. when it came to the beds (you had both of your beds because you didn’t trust tsukishima’s in his inventory since he died so much), you placed them right next to each other.

you laughed to yourself at your witty sense of humor. tsukishima suspiciously side-glanced at you and you put your phone down temporarily to touch your two pointer fingers together.

“what if we keep our minecraft beds next to each other? ah hah hah, jkjk... unless?”

tsukishima just gave you a look, definitely a judging look, “what are you doing?”

dejected, you immediately sighed and dropped your hands, sulking that he didn’t get your reference as you picked your phone back up, “you’ll get it soon enough.”

“okay...?”

you both put your characters to sleep, with you still being giddy in your head that your minecraft beds were still next to each other.

“ugh, finally. i think I'm done for today, too,” says tsukishima. he sets down his phone and stretches.

“do you want to play again tomorrow?” you quickly ask.

“tomorrow? again?”

“well, yes... please?”

‘curse you and your cute pouty face,’ he thinks to himself as you try to persuade him with your bottom lip jutted out.

“... fine, but change the setting so that those blocky enemies stop bothering us.”

︴𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗬𝗢 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

will gladly play minecraft with you!

he’s definitely played with tanaka and noya before, so you’re all set to start playing the rest of the day away!

his inventory end up so messy it takes a moment to find whatever he’s looking for

like, have you ever seen that one meme of that horrendous hotbar? yeah that kind of vibe

sometimes he forgets to make his character eat something until he’s literally losing HP

“wait what? what’s hitting me? y/n is that you? there’s no enemies around...”

“what’s your hunger bar at?”

“... oh, hehe”

other than that, you work together as a great team

he’s not that bad at combat, he’ll make sure yall have enough food and resources...

mining though,,,, yeah good luck

the ambience sounds scare him sometimes

you know, the sounds that go ‘eeEEEOUUH’

if he hears any rattling of bones, undead groans, or hisses of a green ticking bomb ready to go off rIGHT AROUND THE CORNER—

he’s running to find wherever your character is right away to feel safer

but after all the effort, you two get so excited about finding diamonds! omg the cutest bonding moment ever

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

“maybe we’re not deep enough,” you sigh.

“but there’s lava? aren’t diamonds usually near lava?” hinata sighs back.

the search for diamods is nearing a real-world hour yet both of you are still empty-handed. you branch off to a little molten orange puddle and start mining around its perimeter. alas, still nothi—

“Y/N! COME HERE COME HERE I THINK I FOUND ONE!” hinata yells and your character immediately darts to find his.

you move the screen’s line of vision and then you see it: that gorgeous diamond blue, with hinata’s character jumping for joy beside it.

finding diamonds in this game never gets old.

“AHHH!! SHOYO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? MINE IT!” you yell back. the smiles on your faces grow bigger and bigger for every blue gem hinata manages to get from the small bunch of blocks in the cave wall.

“eight! i got eight!” he announces.

you clutch your phone in your hands, satisfaction running through your veins, “that’s enough for a sword for the both of us! and a pickaxe!”

the both of you put down your phones for a moment to give each other a high five. it was a solid high five, too— you two were feeling ecstatic!

“do you think there’s more around here?” you ask. your voice resonated pure delight and excitement and hinata’s response reciprocated nothing but.

“maybe! let’s go find out!”

︴𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗕𝗔 𝗟𝗘𝗩 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

he’s played a couple of times, but the times he played his “friends” just griefed his world to death

can we get an F in the chat

but lev trusts you, and he finds minecraft genuinely entertaining besides the fact, so yes, he will play with you

he makes you stop and look at how pretty minecraft’s sunsets and sunrises and basically the whole environment is

you two name all of your animals

“who should i shear? willy or maria?”

“greggory hasn’t been sheared for a few days, maybe he feels left out :(((”

“you’re right maybe he does :(((”

he’ll laugh like so much when you two get out of a fight with a skeleton so the arrows all over you are sticking out and “they make you look like a porcupine!!”

frames all “firsts” i.e. first notch apple, first diamond, first emerald, first enderpearl rest in peace all the cows that get killed to make those item frames

wasn’t really aware of the nether or the end so he’s very excited to make it there with you!

very helpful 2nd player and you two get there in no time!

but whenever you get there, the atmospheres of the nether and the end catch him off guard since the overworld is so like.... chill

then it’s like you get there, and a ghast is over here like ‘scrREEEEEEEEE’

you both know you’ve got each other’s backs though!

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

you two stare at the activated end portal in front of you, lava bubling beneath it, equipped to the brim. you always wondered why that lava was there.

“okay, ready?” you ask lev. you look up and he gives you a determined nod.

“let’s go wreck that ender dragon!”

and with that, you two jump in and your screens say the terrain is being loaded. then there you are, in the end—a snotty beige island of rock in the middle of a purple void.

“cool, huh?” you ask lev, but his eyes are only wide and focused on the screen. it was a whole new world to him. literally.

you go through the normal end procedure, finding your way to where all the enderman are walking around. it takes a little while but soon you’re surrounded in a crowd of the lanky mobs.

“THERE’S SO MANY OF THEM?” screams lev, who has only seen a few in the course you two have been playing that night.

“because this is their home, lev—”

“WHY ARE THEY ALL SO TALL,” he shrieks.

you can’t help but snicker, “now you know what it feels like hanging around you—”

suddenly, you hear the roar.

︴𝗞𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗧𝗘𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗢 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

kenma first got him to play minecraft yeaaaars ago, no surprise there

when he plays now, he’s usually on servers a lot

if you ask to play minecraft with him he’d probably suggest going onto a server like hypixel or the hive first and foremost

if you also like playing on servers, you’ll soon find out he’s a pvp king ahh scary

i’ll be damned if he doesn’t have those og minecraft pro gamer boy skins– you know the ones, you know what i’m talking about, i know you do

but, if you just want to make a world with him, first he’ll be so soft inside thinking about you two having a minecraft world all of your own

second, he’ll yell “OF COURSE Y/N!”

he tries really hard to tame cats if you ever come by them and gets super happy when he succeeds

he probably will tame a horse and dog too tho but that’s not relevant at the moment–

prefers strip mining than going through cave systems

calls gold “butter” he was a skydoesminecraft fan i’m convinced he was

ends up finding emerald before diamonds and you both get completely perplexed on how or why

hates silverfish with every fiber of his being

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

“GODDAMMIT!” kuro yells as silverfish slithered and spread out from the stone black he had just broken.

“what? what happened?” you ask him, your eyes not leaving your screen. you run your character through the winding stronghold you two have stumbled upon in the last hour of strip mining.

and then you see them: silverfish.

“AH!” you yelp as before you know it, the little things are going after you, too.

you and kuro start aggressively tapping your screens trying to get rid of the small pests on-screen, annoyingly hissing and wiggling around. there was much at stake, since your spawn point was god knows how far and kuroo had some precious diamonds and emeralds in his inventory. you were sure you wouldn’t be able to save it all either, having some pretty good loot already filling up your own inventory.

with only a few hearts left each, all the silverfish manage to be killed, rising up into the air as puffs of pixelated smoke.

“that was,” you sigh with a low laugh, “thrilling.”

“why are those things even in the game? all they’re good at is being annoying anyway,” kuro shakes his head grumbles while healing up his HP. you’re pretty sure he doesn’t realize it, but he’s cutely pouting as he makes his character drink a potion of healing. he’s acting like a little kid.

“okay, mister. after you’re done with your little hissy fit, let’s head back up to the surface!”

︴𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗜 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

will he play minecraft with you?

is that even a question? YES

warning though, he isn’t against griefing

but he likes you, so you get a pass

but don’t be suprised if you find the gate to your sheep pen “accidentally” left open, or your crops “happen to” get trampled over

he doesn’t spare you his little troublemaking antics

but you like him, so he gets a pass

ok but his favorite wood is aca— sorry, acaci— guys i can’t even say it—

his favorite wood is ac*cia because “y/n, it matches my hair!”

i mean the man’s not wrong there, but still,

“no”

he prefers having donkeys as his steed instead of horses

he builds little novelties and small machines around your base, like cobblestone generators

or a minecart with a sheep in it that goes around a neverending track next to the nether portal

but the details aren’t all that important to discuss, right?

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

“tendo, why is there a horse bouncing up and down from that fence post in the air?” you ask. your character is standing still in front of the contraption, just looking up at the... thing. just, staring.

shortly, satori has his character join you and he stifles a little laugh, finding what he made a few minutes ago as funny as when he left it.

“oh, y’know. because it’s forever just bouncing around there like that,” he shrugs.

“did you seriously have us get a lead for that?”

“of course i did.”

“did you really have to put it there?”

“yeah—”

“OVER A LAKE?”

، セッ ✧ ター 🌱 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 ...

︴𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗔 𝗞𝗢𝗦𝗛𝗜 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

he hasn’t been able to play minecraft for a while, so he gladly installs it on his phone to play with you.

doesn’t like using violence that much, even if for mobs and bosses

with this mindset, it means he always goes mining immediately in a new world so he can find iron for shears.

he doesn’t want to kill any sheep to make you two beds in order to sleep through the mob-filled night.

the base he ends up building for the two of you is cute and has literal 8-bit cottage core vibes with the all game’s flowers planted around the place

he thinks the flowers that have come with the newer updates are fascinating and on top of that, spawn was in the middle of a flower forest

he got caught off guard by the bees though

“they put in bees but there still isn’t a cave update?”

makes a farm so you two don’t have to kill animals for food

if you get a brewing stand, he is full-on the potion and builder type player

replants the crops he harvests from villager farms if you happen to cross by one earlier on in-game

if it comes down to it, he will not hesitate fighting off the mobs for you

also will not hesitate to drop some food for you if you forgot to bring enough

very chill minecraft session, arguably one of the best kinds of minecraft sessions!

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

you two are comfortably lounging on the couch opposite of each other. you can barely sit still from the excitement of getting to play the best game ever your favorite game with sugawara.

“y/n, i’ve played a few times, but i’m far from what’s probably considered ‘good’,” sugawara admitted as you loaded up the world.

“suga, minecraft with you will be fine whether we’re playing like pros or beginners!” you reassure him.

“i guess,” he replies with a shy smile, “you might have to teach me the ropes of the newer things, though.”

“of course i will!” you almost shout back, very determined to have good-hearted fun with suga with nothing but good vibes.

the world finally generates on your screen and you’re in the middle of a bunch of flowers. you could never deny that although it was just pixels, it was truly so very pretty. besides that, your eyes were locked onto your phone, anticipating sugawara arrival. you’re pleased to see his character pop into the environment.

“okay! let’s get some wood, then we can start mining!” you say, uncontrollably smiling up at sugawara. he smiles back and soon you two fall into a comfortable silence as you gather resources.

after a few minutes, you see his character run up to yours. confused, you stop moving your character but then a flower of the valley is dropped in between your characters. you can’t help but ‘awwwe’ out loud and sugawara lightly laughs because of that,

“i don’t remember these being in the game, but i thought you’d like it. it’s pretty, like you..”

“AWWWWWWEEE”

︴𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗬𝗔𝗠𝗔 𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗢 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

he doesn’t play many video games, but he knows how much you love this block game so he complies if you ask him nicely

it takes a bit for you to teach him what he needs to know, but soon you find it’s really fun playing with kageyama!

he does get pretty mad when he dies though........ ok but it’s funny

enderman and baby zombies make him angry as fuck

accidentally hits pigmen in the nether but still tries to fend them off

he inevitably fails and gets mad

it’s still funny

has one of those houses where you can see the different layers of just the crap blocks he didn’t need anymore that he used to build it

always wants to tame a dog as soon as possible when you told him he was able to do that

likes mining the most, but sometimes you two get lost

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

it’s been about half an hour when you and kageyama find yourselves lost in a minecraft cave. the torches you two had been placing weren’t doing you any favors, as none of them signalled any kind of distinct path back up to the overworld.

“maybe this way?” you suggest for the upteenth time.

kageyama shook his head, his expression blatantly frustrated, “let’s just dig up. we’re never going to find are way out like this.”

“but kageyama, ‘don’t dig straight up or down’! that’s literally one of the most important rules in minecraft, we went over this!” you whined to try and stop him. you had the urge to just punch his character.

“that’s a stupid rule then, because how else are we going to get out of here?” kageyama just shoots back at you. you really wanted to act on that urge now. curse his stubbornness.

as you predicted, those ended up being his famous last words, because after breaking a few blocks above him kageyama was greeted by the molten orange glow of pixelated lava.

“shitshitshitshitshitshit—” kageyama panicked as the slowly cascaded down.

you watched in twisted satisfaction as his character ran around trying to distinguish the fire that spread on him. eventually, you took out the water bucket saved in your inventory and put him out.

“the rules aren’t so stupid now, are they.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THERE WAS GOING TO BE LAVA RIGHT THERE?”

︴𝗞𝗢𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗘 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗠𝗔 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

when you asked him if he wanted to spend the afternoon playing minecraft, he may not have looked like it when he calmly said “sure,” but he was happy as hell!

he finds diamonds effortlessly and concerningly quickly when you start up a world, he even has the coordinates for finding diamonds memorized

also has the most efficient way to reach the ender dragon memorized

you find out he’s a good builder too

he even kind of gets redstone, which is impressive in itself

while chatting a bit as you’re absentmindedly mining for resources, you find out he had all the guide books ugh yes gotta love our gamer boyfriend

on servers, mc hunger games made him nervous :((((

bedwars tho? AHAHAH WATCH OUT he does the thing where he builds from really up high then drops a bunch of tnt on you then drops down to destroy your bed sly mf

hints at wanting to play a build battle game with you in the future

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

“kenma! look at the greenhouse i made! we can grow crops and stuff now,” you tug a little at his shirt sleeve to get his attention. he hums and briefly side-glances at your phone before having his character move so he can see it on his screen for himself.

you look back at your own screen and his character is circling the small structure filled with crops and flowers. you hope he likes it. he built a great base for you two so fast, before the sun even went down in-game, and seemingly with such ease. it was the least you could do to repay him, albeit your skills definitely aren’t as honed as his.

“it looks good, y/n,” he says after a moment that felt like forever. you let out a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding. he continues crafting tools and armor inside your main base while you sit there next to him for a second, giddy from just that small compliment.

“really?” you ask, a big smile on your face. it ended up being more of a hypothetical question since he didn’t respond, focused on making his supplies. but you could see the small smile on his face.

“... maybe we can compare our building skills sometime,” kenma suddenly adds.

you gasp, “kENMA DO YOU MEAN,,, A BUILD BATTLE?!”

kenma lightly laughs, the sound making your heart do somersaults, “yeah, that.”

︴𝗞𝗘𝗜𝗝𝗜 𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

goes on servers the most out of anyone here, bokuto’s most likely to blame

good at pvp and detroying them beds in bedwats and all that

but personal worlds? baby needs a little help

you had to reassure him bees and fish were peaceful

mans was literally spinning around in a boat for a solid five minutes because he didn’t know how to control it

absolutely despises the drowned but i mean who doesn’t

“where did that one even come from?? we’re in the middle of a fucking pond????”

he’s enamoured by your building skills

“i can... build a wall.. around our base? will that help?”

of course it will sweetie

his favorite wood probably ends up being dark oak

oh, and he didn’t know hitting an iron golem makes them mad

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

“PFFFT,” you were dying. no, not as in your HP was running low, you were just laughing at akaashi.

“Y/N? AREN’T YOU GOING TO HELP ME?” akaashi shouted as his character sprinted across the grassy plain. the iron golem ‘clunk, clunk, clunk’-ed with its big arms waving about as it chased after akaashi’s poor character.

“and what? put myself in danger? no! that thing will beat me to a pulp and i can not afford that!” you argue. akaashi can only let out a distressed whine in protest as he tries to swim across a river to escape the golem.

“haha! can’t catch me now... oh shit-”

the iron golem swims across.

︴𝗢𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° ︴

he’s only ever played it when the other team members invite beg him to play in their minecraft world

so you’re just lucky he has a soft spot for you so he agreed to play it with you

was definitely self conscious about his minecraft abilities

you tell him it’s fine but soon you learn he has some... quirks.

likes gold armor bc it’s gold

will enchant everything to make up for the fact it’s not diamond

HE KIDNAPS VILLAGERS THERE I SAID IT

when he first heard of herobrine he legit got scared and the other boys definitely clowned him for it

his favorite music disc is strad and you have to try and get it for him because he doesn’t know how to get the discs by himself

builds a giant pillar to mark where your base is

enough of a fool to spawn the wither right near the base

⇩ ⇩ ⇩

“TORU OH MY GOD I TOLD YOU NOT TO SPAWN IT YET”

“I DIDN’T KNOW IT EXPLODES EVERYTHING”

what did tooru just get you into?

you moved your character outside of the base to see the big bad wither flying overhead. the three-headed enemy begins to launch its explosove heads at everything in its path. items flew out of chests, small dirt and wood blocks lay helplessly on the ground, and both you and tooru are yelling from excitement, hysteria, and fear all mixed into one.

ah, the gifts minecraft brings to everyday life.

you end up luring it away to the nearby forest, but you realize quickly that you are way under-equipped for this boss battle. you and tooru both try your best, but you expectedly end up staring at red phone screens sporting a passive ‘you died’.

silence.

“are you mad at me, y/n?” toru asks and you can hear the guilt in his voice. you feel like throwing a nearby pillow at him, yet that tone he speaks in absolutely shoots through your little heart like a minecraft skeleton’s arrow.

you take a deep breath, “no, i’m not mad at you toru. we can always try again another time. but please listen to me next time.”

“i will! you call the shots for now on, as long as it keeps us from dying!” he laughed, and you couldn’t help but join him after the hectic experience you two just shared.

︴𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 :: 𝗛𝗜𝗧𝗦 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗗 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗨𝗣 ︴

tsukishima , hinata , sugawara , kenma , akaashi

︴𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 :: 𝗛𝗜𝗧𝗦 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗨𝗣 ⁽ᵉᵘᵉᵍʰ⁾ ︴

lev , kuro , satori , kageyama

︴𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 :: 𝘽𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝙀𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙋 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈 𝙄– ︴

TORU WHY

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ikesenhell · 4 years

Text

Heatwave

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine on my page under the Masterlist. NOTES: Thank you so much to the wonderful folks who came out and hung out with me as I wrote my first Ikesen piece since ‘American Dream’ in ages. I’d been batting around this idea at the lovely @a-shout-to-the-void and finally buckled down and did it. TW: torture, abuse mentions and descriptions, blood, painful injuries. A lot of descriptions and references to Ieyasu’s childhood with the Imagawa Don’t worry, no one dies. It also somehow has a good ending? Idk man. Also, hello to my first piece with Yoshimoto in it whatupppppp

----

It was three months after the second disappearance of the Takeda, and the main hall was deathly quiet. All were assembled--Nobunaga lording on his dias, his allies gathered close--and no one spoke.

Ieyasu wished someone would.

“He wasn’t difficult to bring in at all,” Mitsuhide commented, as if it were the weather. Clouds from the shoreline--perhaps it will rain.

(Funny, they could use some of that. The summer was stifling and showed no signs of abating, even as the seasons turned. The crops weren’t going as well as expected, and Azuchi was a cooker. They’d slitted the screens open, but even then, Ieyasu could see sweat beading on Hideyoshi’s forehead. Even Mitsuhide, usually pristine and inhuman, sported small pools of darkened silk in the underlayers that peeked through.)

Masamune almost smiled. “Do you really think he was stupid enough to come here on purpose? He’s got guts.”

Nobunaga’s perceptive red eyes flickered in Ieyasu’s direction.

“Perhaps.” Mitsuhide allowed a smile.

“Probably to try his hand at Nobunaga.” But even Hideyoshi seemed unconvinced. “Maybe the last ditch effort of the Takeda before we destroy them.”

Ieyasu hated that he glanced at Mitsunari, looking for something in the way of understanding, anything he hadn’t guessed at already. Even if that stupid puzzled expression was there, it was something. No luck. Mitsunari had the hard, calculating stare of a man who already knew the score.

Damn it all to hell.

“He no doubt knows where Shingen and his ilk have scattered to. Until we have found them, they remain a threat.” With a subtle nod of an imperious head (the fine sheen of sweat glittered on his neck), he motioned to Mitsuhide. “Do what you must.”

“With all due respect, my lord,” the other man noted, “I believe there is someone else here who might be better suited to… gathering the information you require from our latest guest.”

His hands were cold. His hands were cold and they were all looking at him. Ieyasu balled his fingers into fists and willed them to stop trembling.

(Was he angry? Furious. Incensed. They needed rain in Mikawa and the crops were a concern and in the vacuum that the Takeda left there were a thousand bureaucratic things to consider and he was never not angry, only three steps away from it where he could look at it from what he liked to think was a cool remove when it was really like a fiery tornado. They’d taken so much from him and here he was again, to take more with a smile, and he couldn’t do a damn thing without destroying it anyway.)

Nobunaga just stared at him. “Well?”

And he was the best man for the job.

Ieyasu nodded, his face as porcelain-still as he could force. “Of course.”

---

The first time he met Imagawa Yoshimoto, he only said one word.

Ieyasu was only a child, still in the hands of his enemies. He had bruised banding around his legs from switches and cut knees, hair that went every which way and eyes that still welled traitorously with tears when struck. Illusions of fair treatment were gone. All he had was will and a directive: this is what you can do for Mikawa. If being beaten saved Mikawa, that was his responsibility.

Wasn’t it?

There was a banquet and the Imagawa wanted to show him off like a prize pet. Ieyasu was quiet, not stupid.He smiled politely and remembered all of the tiny details of court manners, the little things that would help him (Mikawa) survive. They’d put him into a finer haori than the one they usually allowed and seated him where all the other nobles could spy on the little waif from a nothing place.

Yoshimoto, he later learned, was the beanpole teen sitting perfectly only a few spaces away from him. Dark hair, a charming smile, pretty eyes. Ieyasu hated them all on reflex. Whoever he was--that didn't matter. Ieyasu smiled with thanks to one of his benefactors and imagined stabbing him between the eyes.

How would he do it first? Who would go? It made sense to start with the Imagawa head--of course, that was only the correct order of things--but he could also trap them all in the hall and set it ablaze, let them scrabble over each other like rats. He could pick off their families one by one. He could--

Someone set a sake cup heavily in front of him, only half-poured. Ieyasu blinked rapid-fire up at the teen smiling down at him.

“Smile,” he instructed, fluttering a fan entirely-too-close to both of them. And then he rushed away.

Ieyasu glanced down at the cup on his table and realized two things: one, he’d allowed his polite facade to slip. He could feel the stormcloud in the grit of his teeth. Two, the Imagawa teenager had blocked him from view with the fan--and probably spared him a beating.

Only later did he learn his name.

---

The dungeon stairs were slick. Every once in a while, someone came and cleaned the mold and mildew from the flagstones, but that was a lost cause. It seemed like the only moisture in Azuchi had escaped to its basements. Wet-blanket heat settled foul in the belly of Mitsuhide’s workspace, the little light lancing from narrow windows illuminating hazy curls of breath-sucking humidity. Ieyasu disguised his disgust at the foul smells the way he knew best--frowning.

Their prisoner was moved to the very last cell, the ‘interrogation room’. Mitsuhide’s gentle words didn't disguise its purpose. It was an execution chamber and torture cell. Ieyasu never went in to discover its secrets. What he did was in the open, precisely where everyone could see it.

(Because if you were going to hurt someone, you did it openly, he’d decided. Cowards hid abuse. If you raised the sword, you showed the sunlight its deadly glint and let heaven know your intent. Violence couldn’t be wrapped in a silken kimono and paraded before leering eyes--)

The door was shut. Ieyasu didn't waste the time to reflect on it. No interior monologue did him good here. Shunting thoughts and the heavy latch to the side, he stepped in.

Their prisoner was kneeling. Mitsuhide prepped well. His knees were tied to those uneven slats the other man so preferred, jagged, uneven boards guaranteed to end with shattered shin bones if left long enough. He’d been stripped of his fine armor and things, reduced to a (still beautiful, dark grey and blue silk) final layer of kimono. Unkempt, shiny dark hair spilled loose on his shoulders. As Ieyasu stepped inside, those gold eyes met his.

Yoshimoto had the audacity to smile.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he said, light as a feather, his voice already hoarse. Like commenting on the weather. Awfully hot, isn’t it? It should have rained by now. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

All the anger he kept so tightly coiled unfurled, the head of it raring like a threatened snake, and Ieyasu bared his fangs, too. “You should have. Why did you come?”

It was a stupid question. They both knew that. Yoshimoto just smiled that serene, sad, painter’s smile. Maybe, Ieyasu thought, if he had half of Yoshimoto’s artistic eye (the way he’d never had Mitsunari’s reflex genius or Masamune’s slick tongue or Nobunaga’s command or--), he could take the scene before him and transform it into a painting. The light cast over his prisoner’s back in sharp relief, all of the folds of silk and linen and hair akin to one of those Portuguese paintings they tried so hard to pawn off on them.

“Are you going to answer?” Ieyasu demanded. Cold, cold, cold. His hands were cold.

Yoshimoto dipped his head silently. “You know why I came, and you know why I won’t leave.”

Ieyasu sucked in his breath--like that would crush the flames of anger twisting, tornadoing in him. It burned in his throat. First, he’d get Yoshimoto off those planks. Those would come later.

---

When he emerged several hours later--without anything to show for his efforts, just blazing fury and frustration renewed and a respect that clawed at his spine--Ieyasu blinked in surprise at the Chatelaine standing just outside the stairwell. He almost missed her. The sun was gone by now, the moon rising in its inconstant arc over Azuchi’s peaks, long lines of moonlight as gentle as the flickering torch light below was ominous.

Of course she was there. Of course.

“How is he?” She asked, and Ieyasu wanted to scream.

“How do you think?” He snapped. “Go inside.”

She didn't move. Instead, she produced a cold cup for him, shoving it into his hands.

“What’s this for?”

“It was hot today. You must be thirsty.”

He stared at the cup in his hands, the silvery liquid inside glowing like moonbeams. “How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

What did that mean? How long had she waited here in the fading dusk, listening to the muffled sounds below, with a cup for him? Was it even for him? How could she give him this when only moments before, he’d washed away the blood of her--her--

Gods, he still couldn’t say it to himself.

“Who told you?” He finally asked, his voice sharp.

She folded her hands over her skirts instead of answering. “Is he alive?”

Of course this was about Yoshimoto. Of course this was. Even the cup was in the interest of getting information. Icy, crawling hatred slithered down the small of his back like sweat. Unceremoniously, Ieyasu dumped the contents of the cup on the ground.

“Ieyasu--!”

He contemplated breaking it. But that wasn’t fair to her. None of this was. None of this was fair to her, just like none of it was fair to him. So instead he shoved the little mug back into her hands and stalked inside, as if moving fast enough would leave all of that behind.

---

For the rest of his captivity, Yoshimoto was less a person and more a concept. Ieyasu saw him sometimes, fleeting glimpses of a young man blooming handsome. What kind of a life did he lead, Ieyasu wondered? It must be the opposite of his plight. No doubt he had enough to eat. No doubt he had clothes that fit, people that cared whether he lived or died, someone to spare a smile at him. No doubt he could sleep at night without a burning hate clawing up his throat and threatening to choke him.

It was hot that summer--sweltering, relentless. Ieyasu’s room had no screens to the courtyard and so he tossed and turned fitfully at night, too uncomfortable to sleep. Sometimes he dreamed of Mikawa and home, home with the people who relied on him to be strong, people who allowed him to step down from his endless responsibility of strength for a day and be a young man again.

They exchanged words only briefly once more, before Ieyasu went home and returned again and razed them, burned their houses the way he’d always dreamed, released all the untamed hatred raring in his heart and finally did for Mikawa what his endless abuse at the Imagawa had never done. They passed in the hallways and Yoshimoto stopped him, a small retinue at his side.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he said lightly. Yoshimoto said his name like a name, not a curse, not a burden on a household already determined to hate him. “How are you today?”

What could he say? A thousand callous things spiraled through his mind, each one more vile than the other, until he couldn’t think of a single nice word. He simply shut his mouth and nodded slowly, safely, feeling thick and stupid. ��It has been quite hot lately.”

Those gold eyes stared right through him. And at long last, Yoshimoto nodded. “It certainly has. I hope it rains soon. May you have an excellent day.”

When he returned to his room that night, there was a small, beautiful fan sitting in a neat package before his door. Ieyasu let the slow, languid sound of its fluttering lull him to sleep, its cool breeze the first reprieve in months.

---

He didn't think about Imagawa Yoshimoto for a long while after, not even when he served as Imagawa's puppet ruler. That chapter of his life was behind him. Ieyasu had exacted his revenge on Imagawa. That was over.

It was, at least, until the Chatelaine.

---

“Why are you here?” He demanded.

She was waiting for him again in front of the dungeon steps, a small package wrapped in her hands. Her kimono was a soft blue with little white details, modest and cute and practical and perfect. She worked so hard. Everyone knew that. He knew that.

“You didn't have anything to eat this morning,” she answered. The sun wasn’t yet at its peak, but already he could see the waves of heat rolling across the fields behind her, the bronzed backs of villagers in its orange glow. “You almost never miss breakfast.”

“Almost,” he pushed, as if that word made all the difference. Damnit. Damn it all to hell. This was why he had to hate people like her and Mitsunari (and Yoshimoto). The second you saw anything different in them, they pried you open like oystermen searching for pearls and only recoiled in disappointment when they discovered nothing but sand and salt. “You know that this won’t bribe me, right?”

Her cheeks flared white-hot. Good. Hate me. Hate me like I have to hate everyone else who wronged me.

“You do know I like you, right?” She snapped. “I’m your friend. I’m not doing anything to bribe you.”

“Yeah?” Ieyasu sneered, too angry and confused and bitter to stop himself, “Just like you like Imagawa Yoshimoto? Should I expect a love letter--”

She flung the package into his hands (he caught it, barely) and marched away, her shoulders knit tight together.

It still smelled of bean paste when he arrived in the last room of the dungeon, Yoshimoto already prepared and silent for the day. He looked well, for a man who now sported a bruised eye, crusted lip, and a slightly jagged shoulder.

“Good morning, Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he announced, hoarse but polite.

Ieyasu unwrapped the breakfast and examined its contents. There was a little more than usual.

“Your woman,” he announced, (and why was it so hard to sound angry and impassive, why did he want to sound sad?) “Apparently gave me extra food under the impression I might give you some.”

No doubt the prisoner was starving. He’d barely had enough to eat to sustain himself, let alone under the pressure of the torture. But Yoshimoto straightened.

“Is she well?”

No mention of the food. No weakness. Just that endless reservoir of hope that Ieyasu resented, resented because he couldn’t find it anywhere inside himself. Didn't he deserve that kind of serenity?

Silence. Ieyasu considered his words. Yoshimoto, no doubt, was wondering what had become of her, if Nobunaga had exacted on her the same fate that awaited him. The uncertainty was doubtless crushing. A thousand lies presented themselves.

“Yes,” he finally allowed. “She’s fine.”

Yoshimoto smiled. Even through the bloodstained teeth and greasy hair and bruising and marks running roughshod over his arms where everyone could see, he still glowed. “Good.”

---

Ieyasu still dreamed about being with the Imagawa.

Usually it was just the shape of things. The oppressive hot of his bedroom, the rolling waves of contracting pain in his muscles, the crushing emptiness of a room with no sunlight.

Sometimes Ieyasu considered them a mercy. It wasn’t the same as the real thing. He didn't have dreams about how the men decided to test how far his stone expression went, applying hotter and hotter blades to his skin to see if he’d cry. They finally applied a white-hot wakizashi to the tender flesh of his thigh and he screamed so loud he couldn’t talk clearly for a week.

Where was Yoshimoto during all this, he wondered now? There was no way he couldn’t have known. He had a reputation as a lush, but Ieyasu also knew from first-hand battle experience that more lay beneath that pretty exterior. He was like his Takeda cousin: he knew how to play a good game. Had he known just the hint of Ieyasu’s abuse, or had he understood the full spectrum of it? Surely the men of court talked. No doubt they made it a game.

Yoshimoto had to know.

She was surprised when he confronted her in the courtyard. She was hanging up some silks she’d washed, their bright colors like cavalry banners. Her stone-face was good, too, but not as good as his. He could see the thin lines of worry and sleepless nights stretched in the fine skin under her eyes.

“Why him?” Ieyasu demanded.

The chatelaine blinked at him, registering his question. No immediate answer. That was wise. “Why do you want to know?”

“Do you know what the Imagawa are like?” He hissed. “Do you know what they did? Do you have any idea?”

(It was hot out, so hot that he could see the wet silks drying already. No breeze lifted them. They hung like corpses strung out as an example. The remains of the burns on his thighs and arms, even now, stung superheated. The prickle of sweat against them was agonizing and he’d learned to live with it.)

Slowly, she dipped a hand into the cold water of her wash bucket and took his fingers in hers. Sweet relief! Ieyasu tried not to unbend under her gentle touch, the kindness, tried to convince himself that this was for someone else’s benefit and not his. History said otherwise. Long before she’d met Yoshimoto, she’d been like this.

“No,” she said at last. “I don’t know much about who they were to you, just the vague details you’ve shared.”

“Then why him?” Ieyasu groped for his real question. It was that simple, wasn’t it? Yoshimoto wasn’t just on the wrong side. He was on the worst side. Even Uesugi Kenshin was better than an Imagawa.

“Well…” She dipped her hand back in the bucket, splashed more water on his arms. It clung to the silk of his sleeves and cooled the worst of his burns. “There’s a lot to like about him.”

Of course there was. Yoshimoto was intelligent and clever. He had excellent taste and was handsome and diplomatic, even if he had a reputation as a useless leader and a lush. He’d never been anything but kind, and Ieyasu hated that.

---

Yoshimoto hit the floor with a thud and a yelp, but an unsatisfying one. Ieyasu prowled around him.

“You know what Nobunaga wants.” The sun shot unrelenting into their chamber, superheating everything. Ieyasu was sweating like a madman and refused to cede even a single article of clothing. He would not reveal the testament of his failures hidden underneath. “Just give me where Shingen went.”

The other man laughed miserably and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Ieyasu kicked him back over.

“He would have told you,” Ieyasu snarled. “That was your plan. Your plan was to come here, get her, go back into hiding with her and the rest of the Takeda. Wasn’t it?”

For once, Yoshimoto sighed and shut his eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Giving us his whereabouts--”

“Ieyasu,” Yoshimoto interrupted wearily (and he still said his name like a name, goddamnit, not a curse or a burden or an evil thing, even after all of this), “She hates war. Why would I bring her straight into one?”

Outside, heat thunder rolled. No break in the heat yet. Its siren song drove the farmers and townspeople mad with hope. Hideyoshi had looked out sagely that morning and declared that it wouldn’t rain--not today--but it might later that week. They usually trusted him with that kind of thing. Right now, Ieyasu wished that it would come pouring down and drown them both.

“That has no relevance to where Takeda Shingen is,” Ieyasu finally responded.

“I don’t know where Shingen is.” Yoshimoto laid his head on the cool flagstones, eyes still shut, blood flecked over his hair and the filthy silk of the kimono he’d worn the first day. “He wouldn’t have told me.”

Cold, cold, cold hands. “So you’ve said. You’ve said that at least a dozen times.”

A pause. Yoshimoto’s chest heaved a slow, jagged tempo. “He wouldn’t tell me because of her. Because of us.”

Ieyasu wanted to scream again. He could feel it bubbling in his throat, like the ghost of that white-hot blade pressed to his skin.

They were too nice too nice too nice, they both knew what he was doing to him and still she washed his hand and still he said his name like a friend and still there was no damn rain and still she didn't hate him he didn't hate him why couldn’t they just hate him

“Why?” He finally managed, his voice a twisted blade that tore at him the whole way out. “Don’t you hate me?”

Yoshimoto opened his eyes, still gold and pale against the gray walls, still handsome and bright and sharp.

“You’re doing what you have to do,” he managed at last. “And I’m certain you hate me. I probably deserve it.”

Burning burning burning cold hands. The sweat seared him. “Did you know? Did you know the whole time I was there, and did you ignore it?”

At last, they were down to the crux of the whole thing. Yoshimoto wriggled like he meant to sit up (as if they were peers in this moment, just sitting and listening to a friend share their worries) and when his body failed him, he slumped over as best he could, eyes locked and gaze unwavering.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he said, “You do know I was thirteen?”

That wasn’t an answer.

“I knew there was something wrong,” he answered at last. All the words sounded labored. “The details, I never knew. Just the hot room and that you looked ready to kill half of us if given the chance from time to time. I never would’ve known anything specific unless it came from you.”

(He was angry. So, so, so angry. A free-wheeling, blistering summer, crop-killing, volcanic kind of anger that threatened to overflow and kill everything in its wake.)

Ieyasu curled his fingers so tight that his knuckles creaked. Yoshimoto slumped his head back to the floor, shut his eyes and took another labored breath. All of his bruises were out in the open, where everyone could see them. There were no hidden marks, nothing easily covered in the painted facade of a silk--like desecrating a pretty vase, Ieyasu thought.

“Did you know that your uncle--I think it was your uncle--burned me?” He announced. “My arms, my legs. He held a knife over a fire and waited until it glowed, then tried to see if I would scream. He only stopped when I finally did. I’ve still got the scars.”

Yoshimoto’s eyes were open again. There was no stone face--just a well of confusion and relentless sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Ieyasu instantly wanted him to take it back. “That should never have happened.”

Outside, the thunder rumbled again. They’d both been kids, once. Kids who barely knew each other, who lived in the same place and entirely different worlds and never once knew what lay beyond their circle. There was a faint scar just above Yoshimoto’s collarbone. Ieyasu wondered what it was from.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ieyasu said. “You couldn’t have stopped it anyway.”

---

No one was completely sure when she and Yoshimoto met, though Ieyasu suspected that the Takeda had spies in Azuchi for a long time before the battle. It was likely in their own marketplace. They had fine fabrics and he knew that Yoshimoto, otherwise an unremarkable daimyo, wouldn’t have stood out. He’d noticed her disappearing off to the stalls for supplies more frequently, but her business was also thriving. Everyone wanted her wares.

Mitsuhide found the letters first.

The only thing that saved her from Nobunaga was that she’d revealed nothing treasonous. It was love, plain and simple. His fine calligraphy lay neatly on thin mulberry paper (an artistic touch and beautiful in its own right), every character reserved entirely to her wellbeing and their budding affections. No mention of armies or war. No hatred, no grandstanding. Just love--love, plain and simple and innocent and complicated and all-encompassing and blinding.

But all that meant was she was safe.

And the match made sense, as much as Ieyasu couldn’t stand to admit it. They were both art lovers, convinced of its importance as much as warfare, certain that without it, what kind of a world existed to fight for at all? They used entire leaves of paper discussing dyeing techniques and exchanging book recommendations and talking about their homelands.

(And honestly, Ieyasu hadn’t needed the letters to cement what he already knew. She’d spied Yoshimoto on the battlefield and he saw her whole body light up, eyes blazing with the kind of need he’d never seen in her before. He already knew then. He’d just hoped he was wrong.)

Nobunaga wouldn’t let some traitor daimyo run off with his lucky charm. Not in a thousand years.

Ieyasu rapped on her door late that night, and she opened the screen, bleary eyed from fatigue. She’d barely slept in a week. The red rim of her eyes betrayed every tear she couldn’t shed in front of them.

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled.

“Where are we going?”

“Shut up.”

The silly woman somehow still trusted him. Ieyasu dragged her quietly down the stairs, past the main hall, through the courtyard and out the front door. She wasn’t dressed to be in public and still didn't question him. Without ceremony, he reached the dungeon door and yanked it open, its hinges silvery in the moonlight and depths impenetrable.

She stared at him. “What are we--”

“I said shut up.”

One step at a time, he lead her into the darkness. The stairs were almost dry, the unnatural heatwave baking it clean. Still he was cautious. They reached the bottom and he fetched a lit torch, motioning at the guard on duty to leave without a word, and fetched the key ring. “Lift your skirts and follow me.”

Yoshimoto was back in his holding cell. He was still holding his left shoulder slightly jagged, his breathing shallow but even, his split lip now clear and the grime of his face washed clean. Apparently he’d used his drinking water to do that. He peered intently around the corner at Ieyasu. “Tokugawa--”

Then he saw her, and he fell completely silent.

“Here.” Ieyasu fumbled with the keys (he’d never had to unlock the cell doors) and finally found the right one. “You don’t have long.”

Yoshimoto struggled to rise and failed to get up. He didn't need to. The second Ieyasu cracked the door, she flung herself inside and her arms around him, their bodies bound so tight together that he wondered if they’d ever been separate at all. Her voice cracked, slurred something in her native tongue, the beginnings of a sob rolling through her back.

“Shh.” He lifted his arms with effort, wound his fingers in her hair, kissed her forehead, her head, her eyes, clutched her to him. “Hush, darling. Hush. It’s okay.”

It isn’t, Ieyasu thought. It really isn’t. But they just sat there in silence together, her tears muffled into his chest and his body emanating love like sunlight. And he wondered (as he’d wondered a million things about Imagawa Yoshimoto lately) how a man who’d barely been able to get up this afternoon could summon the strength to smile and hold her so tight.

---

“He doesn’t know anything.”

Nobunaga and Hideyoshi cocked the opposite brow at the same time, which might’ve been comical were it not so deadly serious.

“Is that so?” Nobunaga remarked. It was the tone of voice that let him know this was not a question.

“Shingen didn't divulge where he was going to Imagawa expressly because he knew about the attachment to the chatelaine.” Ieyasu inhaled. “So when he left, he was effectively spurring Imagawa to leave the fight too.”

Mitsunari frowned. “That is a valuable ally to excise for sentimental reasons.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “Practically cutthroat of you, Mitsunari. Color me surprised. As it so happens, I’ve obtained similar intelligence.”

Hideyoshi’s surprise translated loud and clear. “Really?”

“So it would seem. The thorn in our side still has a few petals remaining.”

Nobunaga’s gaze fell back down on Ieyasu, searching him. He’d grown used to most of those inscrutable expressions: contemplative, frustrated, puzzled. Now it was just the brotherly stare he got after some of his worst days on the battlefield.

“How is our prisoner?” He asked.

“Yes indeed,” Mitsuhide purred. “Is he still alive?”

“He’s alive.” Ieyasu paused. “He’s… relatively okay.”

The Devil King’s eyes never wavered. “And what would you recommend we do with him?”

---

Yoshimoto was allowed medical attention and to rest for one week, the meagre possessions he came with restored to him. Even with the fresh scar on his lip and a slight catch in his shoulder (Ieyasu was relatively certain it would smooth out over time), he was still regal and handsome. The cold grey of dawn greeted them with a blinding lightning bolt and a torrential downpour. It soaked through the cracked earth and ran muddy and wild over the fields.

Ieyasu affixed the last of Yoshimoto’s things to the saddlebag himself. “That’s everything.”

Imagawa Yoshimoto smiled at him, despite everything. “I appreciate that.”

The chatelaine lingered in the stable. She’d snuck out to see him off, despite all of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi’s disapproval. Her eyes were puffy with new, unshed tears. “You’re just going to put him out in the rainstorm?”

He glanced out the stable door. It came down in thick, obscuring sheets. “Yep.”

“Come now.” Yoshimoto gathered her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be just fine, love--”

Ieyasu snorted. “Of course you two will.”

The lovebirds started. He relished the look of surprise.

“What does that mean?” She said.

“You idiot, the rain will keep anyone from seeing that you’re gone for at least twenty minutes.” Ieyasu checked it again. “No one on lookout will be able to tell the difference between one rider and two. If you time it right, you can clear the Azuchi fields by the time it lifts. Yes, you’ll get soaked--”

“--It’s perfect cover.” Yoshimoto finished, breathless.

“Ieyasu.” She dashed to his side, catching his hands in hers. They were so warm that it melted through her fingertips and into his--a comfortable, gentle heat. “Ieyasu.”

“Go.” He pointed at the saddlebags. “I smuggled in some of your things. Your weird bag, sewing stuff, some goods. Mitsunari helped me grab extras. No one questions if he takes things. Now get out of here before anyone realizes you’re gone.”

The chatelaine smiled at him--a blazing, beautiful smile--and leaned in and kissed his cheek hard. “Thank you.”

He was going to miss her.

“Go,” he repeated instead. “Go now.”

Yoshimoto and him helped her into the saddle first. Afterwards, Yoshimoto mounted up behind her, wrapping his cloak and body around her as best he could. “Thank you, Tokugawa.”

“If you don’t do right by her,” Ieyasu warned, “I’ll definitely kill you next time.”

“I take that under advisement. Thank you.”

A jerk of the reins and a kick, and they bolted out of the stables and into the pouring rain. Within seconds their figures swam into a vague blur, melding together in the shifting faraway. Only moments later--gone.

Ieyasu stood there alone in the silence, his hands warm, his thoughts swirling like lazy koi in a fishbowl, aimless and unbothered. Without thinking, he stepped outside and stretched out his arms, letting the cold droplets run down his sleeves and cling to his skin.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen fanfic #heatwave #my writing #angst tw #torture tw #tw: torture #tw: violence #tw: blood

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