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#HE DID ALL THE WRONG THINGS FOR THE RIGHT REASON
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"i dont hate this female character, i just have a nuanced take on her" and the nuanced take is comically stereotypical misogyny
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yjhzies · 2 days
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“Cheers to youth.” — YJH
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⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . comfort . angst
⋆ pairings : jeonghan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : reader being scolded by their boss, crying (there shouldn't be any more, lmk! <3) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · Always portrayed as "perfect" feels like a nightmare now. But with Jeonghan, everything will be fine.
⋆ - note : got scolded by the teacher for no valid reason and my inner writer came out ^^ (ty ig and welcome to depression era) | trying angst for the first time, I think I'm going insane :( stay safe jeonghannie 🌷
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"Love?" Your boyfriend's voice was soft, and everything you needed to hear after a disastrous day at work.
You gripped your phone tighter and gathered the courage to respond.
"Hm, hannie,"
"Are you almost off work? Do you want me to pick you up?"
"I'm almost done with work, it's okay, I'm fine." Your voice breaks with the words 'I'm fine', because you were clearly not. But, he didn't have to know.
You, who is known as the 'Perfect' one in your workplace, were feeling like a failure. Not that you liked the way people labelled you as 'perfect', but you did want to meet the expectations of your boss. You've always had this habit - feeling the need to meet people's expectations, afraid of disappointing others. This, something you have had since school days, was becoming a nightmare.
Your boss was rumoured to have had a break up; something that is completely none of your business - you knew. So when he lashed out at you, simply because of his gloomy mood, you were in disbelief.
"I heard you've been focusing on everything except for work? I remember the time you were considered as the perfect manager, but now? I doubt that. You've been lacking behind everything. From doing the files to arranging the meetings properly. If you keep doing this, I doubt you'll be here in my company for long."
Those words haunted your mind, and it kept repeating. For no reason. You knew you did nothing wrong, you knew you were not in the wrong here.
But words hurt so much.
Especially when you're trying your best.
Especially when you feel you've done enough, and you hear this.
"Are you sure?" Jeonghan asked, worried because you have had to stay at work for long, and it was unusual.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Silence soon followed, and you took a heavy breath to stop the tear threatening to roll down your cheeks.
"Are you really, baby?" He asked softly. As if he knew everything despite not knowing anything.
You didn't expect that question. All the tears you had held back finally escaped your glossy eyes, and you broke down. Right in the middle of a bus stand, but thankfully, no one was there.
"Baby?" Jeonghan felt a surge of panic wash over him. The sounds of your muffled sobs echoed in his ears through the phone.
The last thing Jeonghan wanted was you crying all alone.
You slowly lowered your hand, the phone in your hand dropping to the floor as you continued weeping. There was no one around to help you. To ask if you were okay.
"Please, baby," he softly pleaded. You were there alone. All by yourself. "Please answer me."
He grabbed his car keys, opened the location tracking app that you both agreed to use in emergencies and rushed out of his apartment. The drive was gonna take at least 20 minutes, but he couldn't care less.
All he knew right now was that he had to be by your side.
"I'll be there, don't worry, okay?" He tried to calm you down, despite panicking himself.
Everything faded into the background, as you finally let all the feelings burst out in the form of tears. All the taunting you had endured throughout the day was driving you insane.
It wasn't your fault. You did nothing.
You don't know when time passed by, and Jeonghan's car pulled up on the road - but you felt a hint of relief at the sight of him.
He got out of the car in a hurry, running up to the bus stop where you stood. Very slowly, you turn your gaze on him and he catches a glimpse of you - puffy eyed, cheeks red with warmth, tremors still coursing through your body, dried tears that were being replaced by fresh ones.
"Hannie..." You choked out, sobbing.
Without wasting a second, he threw his arms around your torso, engulfing you in a warm hug. He rested one of his hands on the back of your head, caressing it, as he wrapped his other arm around your waist protectively.
You've never felt so secure and safe in someone's embrace before.
You closed your eyes, placing your hands on either side of his shoulders, and began sobbing again. But this time, you knew Jeonghan was there to protect you.
"Shh, I'm here, it's all gonna be okay." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if those words were only meant to be heard by you. So soft, so loving, and it conveyed so many emotions to you.
He felt like home. Like the warm hug and kiss you crave after a long tiring day at work. Like the cold, but relaxing drop of rain on your skin.
"I'm- I'm sorry..."
"It's okay, don't be, please."
You're grateful. So grateful that you both don't have to know the reason to simply be by their side. The reason can be unknown, or known later, but what matters is that you're there for each other.
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– taglist : @gyubakeries @k1eev @haowrld @armycarat2612
[check out masterlist - pinned post to be added to the taglist!]
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writingmeraki · 1 day
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unsaid, unkept, ugly emotions [ i ]
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⤷ ( f1 scenarios ! )
❝ in which, the uglier side of feeling too much getting more messier than it already is for both parties involved.
(or in which for different reasons, it just seems you aren't meant to be.)
feat. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri. genre : angst, no comfort. ( for now ) warnings : cussing, messy, contemplation, arguments, miserable people, miscommunication, everyone gets hurt, a lot of unspoken feelings, like emphasis on that you may get annoyed.
pt 2 will include max, daniel, lewis and george !
[ w.c : 3.1k ]
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CHARLES LECLERC.
He was off limits.
From the moment you knew your best friend, Alisa, had a crush on him, he was not supposed to ever be in your radar of romantic boundaries as per the rules of being a best friend. 
Seeing her going crazy for a boy like him at first really made you question if there was something wrong with you because you just couldn’t quite see it.
Sure he quite literally looked like a prince and had a very fitting accent.
Sure he had adorable dimples that made him look less intimidating than you thought he initially was.
Eyes so green you think you could spot an entire forest in them and they twinkled ever so brightly when the sun hit them.
Sure he was also the frat president as well as the captain of the soccer team making you wonder how he was able to still balance getting great grades.
Well. There was a slight possibility you could see what others saw. 
Maybe even more when the time you tried to play wingman for Alisa at a party where you lost her because apparently she was looking for him but said guy turned up right beside you as you were contemplating on what would least likely not kill your liver if you had it resulting in having conversations about cars ( you don’t even know ) and him trying to convince (gaslight) you into Formula One being one of the greatest sports of all time. 
You didn’t get convinced but for the time it felt right to agree to what he said if it meant those adorable dimples would show up when you did. 
You were so screwed. 
Another thing Charles Leclerc had was a great memory, because he seemed to remember you when he saw you walking down the hallway with Alisa as he smiled so widely at you in greeting. 
“Haha yeah hey! um…This is Alisa by the way! Alisa, Charles.” You had to nudge her to snap out of her daze and she extended her hand in greeting as he politely shook her hand. 
“That reminds me, I forgot to ask you last night but uh can I have your-”
“Oh would you look at that! We’re getting late for class! I’m so sorry Charles, we’ll have to leave!” 
That moment you think you were so going to hell when you saw how quickly his smile fell and how his sparkly eyes dimmed down because it felt like you committed a sin then and there. You think you saved yourself from committing a sin but it didn’t feel less dreadful as you grabbed her hand and rushed as quickly as you could.
In the opposite direction of where your class was.
“WHAT WAS THAT-”
“Listen- when you were looking for him last night- I swear I don’t know how but he was right where I ended up sitting and he-well, we talked I suppose-?”
Her eyes widened at your words and you raised your hands in surrender, 
“I promise I didn’t even know when he showed up, I tried to message you and even find you but you seemed gone until the moment we were leaving.”
“Plus the reason I didn’t tell you last night was I was tired! I was here trying to play wingman while the person in love was seemingly gone-”
She sighed and nodded at you, “You don’t have to explain, I know he’s not your type, you made that clear a lot of times actually it’s kinda hilarious.” She giggled as she recalled the countless times you chastised her for daydreaming about him. But now, you couldn’t stop the stupid tinge of bitterness in your heart.
Right. Not my type. 
Suddenly her eyes widened as an idea struck her, “That’s it! He was gonna ask for your number right? You can try and set me up then!”
“I well- I don’t know-”
“Please! You know how I have been trying to get to know him even.”
You didn’t want to say it then but you thought about how trying meant actually doing something rather than just gazing from afar. At least become friends with him was the words you told her countless times but she paid no heed, retorting how it was not that easy.
But it was easy because what’s the worst that could happen? Him having a partner? So it wasn’t the end of the world, others existed! 
Too bad you were easy to persuade, questionably easy because all it took were her doe eyes pleading at you to agree.
“Fine- I’ll try- but no promises.”
As she hugged you and squealed words of gratefulness to you, you couldn’t quite put a finger on it then but, 
You didn’t understand why it felt a part of you couldn’t seem to share the same happiness, conceivably a lingering dread there that knew something was surely going to go wrong.
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CARLOS SAINZ.
Everytime Carlos Sainz had the ever so unfortunate ( according to him ) time to exist in the same room as you, it seemed like an impending doom for him. 
His heart felt weird, his stomach dropped, his throat parched.
He hated it. 
He was an individual who knew what they wanted in life. Never unsure nor second guessing, always able to classify their emotions in proper ways. Systematic is the right word. Able to know what exactly he wants to do in his career, how to behave with his friends, when to be serious and when to have ‘fun’. 
So what happens when you completely throw him off the rocks with your mere existence?
He hates you. That’s how he tags the emotions he feels when he sees you and what does hatred sprout? Indifference. 
Too many questions asked but it’s what Carlos declares. 
Though, he thinks the first mistake is to think he’d be able to avoid you considering the fact that you were his best friend/roommate’s good friend. Meaning you spent around twenty to twenty two hours at their place (Yes he counted) and he absolutely hated it.
He hated how your giggles would ring out in the entire apartment when Charles said a half-assed joke, it literally made his chest feel uneasy. He hated how your eyes would always twinkle when you would be talking to Charles, it made his stomach drop and sigh in disbelief. 
Was Charles that oblivious to how much you liked him?
Now this was a question that made Carlos almost throw up. Odd.
“You know if you don’t make a move, he won’t even know right? I know you think he’s one of the smartest but in the romance field, I think even fucking Max beats him at that!”
Or perhaps Carlos was just very oblivious to how much you liked him. 
You shook your head at Charles’ words as you both walked up to his apartment, the butterflies in your stomach already churning at the thought that Carlos was likely home. 
“And also it’s getting concerning how much time you spend in my apartment for the sake of him, like at this point just move in you creep—HEY!Ow!— that hurt you ass!”
“It’s not that easy,he’s – he’s Carlos–for God’s sake!”
“That’s exactly why it’s easy! It’s Carlos! Be direct with him. I’ve known him for years and trust me, he won’t know until you spit it out to him!”
Maybe…maybe he was right. Afterall he had been friends with Carlos before even knowing you.
“What if he doesn’t even feel the same–”
“Be serious. He literally looks like a lovesick fool when you’re over–”
“Maybe he’s just sick of me coming over.”
Charles stopped walking and you didn’t even realize until you were a few steps ahead. Pausing when you finally saw he wasn’t beside you.
His expression was like he was close to ripping out his hair from frustration while also being flabbergasted. It was kinda hilarious and you had to gulp to prevent laughing because you were sure he might just kill you.
“Okay! Okay, fine– I'll listen to you– maybe not confess today! But I'll ask if we can hangout or something,happy?”
“Very.” 
You rolled your eyes at his words as you both began climbing up the stairs, telling him to shush with his teasing as the tips of your ears began to feel warm and the blood rushed to your cheeks with every scenario you imagined.
Maybe if you thought that the upcoming scenario would ever occur. it would have hurt less. 
As you waited for him to pull out his keys, you could feel your nerves igniting through your skin and your stomach churning. But before he could insert the key, the door opened.
You wouldn’t have questioned anything, if it weren’t for the obvious messy hair, hickey marks trailing down her exposed neck and of course, the star of your daydreams right behind her, standing with a surprised face.
It was obvious what had occurred, the confirmation lying in the bruises on his neck. 
“Woah–uh.” Charles stuttered awkwardly, and you could feel his sympathy as he glanced at you. You couldn’t think of anything else other than how…right you were and how wrong Charles was.
You didn’t know who she was but it wasn’t her fault. Or anyone’s. Maybe yours. So as a weird tension simmered through the air, you looked away from them and just turned to Charles.
And for the first time in his life probably, he was lost. Carlos Sainz was lost because why did he just feel like he committed a crime when he wasn’t even yours anyways?
He hated the way you looked away, not missing the hurt that flashed across your eyes as you realized what he probably was doing. 
You didn’t even notice she’d already left, smiling at Carlos and signing him to call her back, again. Probably not the first time, you thought.
“Uh- I’ll go now, It’s getting late for me anyways,”
You really tried to stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat making you want to choke and die then and there. So you just looked at Charles, purposefully ignoring the way he looked at you in sympathy. 
His stare seemed to burn into your side profile. The words on the tip of his tongue, but what? It all felt like a lot but nothing at the same time. Carlos didn’t know what to say. 
Nodding goodbye to Charles and glancing at Carlos, offering a tight lipped smile as you waved, and then without saying anything you turned around. 
Charles frowned. His best friend couldn’t own up to his feelings for you and just when you were about to take a step forward, he somehow ended up fucking it up completely. 
What a mess. 
“Come on, we need to talk.”
Charles said seriously, putting an arm over Carlos’ shoulders, albeit a little forcefully which caused the other boy to almost stumble over. 
It seemed it was now up to him now to sort out this mess and hopefully it doesn’t get worse from here
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LANDO NORRIS.
Lando and you were fire and water. Milk and lemons. Politicians and caring for the country’s people- Okay too far perhaps and enough of these metaphors of incompatibility to get a point.
You were sworn enemies. Despised each other in the true forms of hate. You hated him so much for the emotions he rose in you that you couldn’t stand him ruining another poor innocent soul with his devious eyes and cunning smile.
Which was exactly what he was doing with the girl wrapped around his left arm, additionally whispering probably lame jokes that made her giggle as though they were the funniest thing on earth.
Lana Carter was her name, you knew her as a cheerleader due to seeing her during your games and also being somewhat acquainted because as a captain, it was apparently in your duty to know everyone, especially those involved in the sports sector of your university.
You wish you could cross off knowing Lando but alas, him being the captain of the basketball team and the apparent star as well didn’t help in your case. 
“I smell something burning and oh! Would you look at that! It’s an ugly green color too!” Alexa said as she smirked at you, pretending to take a sip of her drink when you directed your glare at her. 
“Fuck. You.” 
“You wish-”
“Oh! Hey cap!” A voice said before you could retort to Alexa you turned to see Oscar smiling at you in greeting. You knew him, of course you knew all of Lando’s little friend group. You frowned at him eyeing him in suspicion. He was Lando’s best friend after all.
“Why the frown?” Alexa snorted as he asked you,his attention going to your best friend before she pointed at him and it was as if he understood and nodded.
“Ohhh, I see what’s the matter now.”
“Someone’s” Coughing very fakely, he added, “Jealous.”
Shutting your eyes, you looked at him with a glare enough to make him shut up on his own but still you added,
“Say that again and I’ll-”
“Already giving death threats huh? Maybe you should really go check up on that stick up your ass.” Of fucking course, now is when he decided to show up.
As though his eyes had not been searching for you the moment he stepped in the party. As though he hadn’t noticed you the moment you did. As though it wasn’t just an elaborate plan to rile you up.
You looked at him and fuck. Fuck he made you so angry with how fucking good he looked despite the conditions of the party. His messy hair and bright eyes being lit up by the colourful lights and even though the lighting was horrible, he somehow looked…so fine and of course the darn smirk on his face. 
“Norris. How nice of you to show up! Just the person I was waiting for!” Your sarcasm could be sensed by those around, Alexa’s attempt at hiding her snort and Oscar’s brows raised not going unnoticed. They looked at each other briefly and a knowing look was exchanged.
Here we go again.
“Aw you were waiting for me darling? Hope I wasn’t too late, just got a little busy you see?”
“Clearly.” You said before thinking, the scowl on your face was visible and the smugness on his face only grew larger.
“Not fond of me with someone else?” You didn’t even notice how both Oscar and Alexa had left, seemingly only Lando and you, in the midst of drunk teenagers and perhaps lovesick ones, perhaps loners. 
He got closer, closer that made you clench your hands that hung on your sides, leaning down.
“Not fond of me with anyone but you?”
It was as though his voice put you in a trance, or maybe it was how his warm breath tickled your neck. And for the first time in a while you thought of what he said, deeper than you would have ever.
You weren’t sure if you liked the answer. Or what it exactly implied too.
“Stay in your limits Norris. Don’t fucking- don’t play this shit with me.” You pushed him away as harshly as you could, even if it felt like your hands burned when you thought of what you did. Purposefully ignoring the look in his eyes. Visible hurt and a frown on his face, you turned around, having enough.
“Don’t come after me. Stay with Lana or whoever, I don’t fucking care.” You don’t know why you said the last sentence. You also don’t want to know why it felt bitter saying it.
With that, you began to walk out, gulping the fresh air that was much needed after being in that suffocating place, suffocating feelings.
As you shut your eyes, you gulped thinking of what you were doing. Why were you so pissed off? 
And maybe you realized, you needed to check on the line that was drawn between Lando and you. Perhaps it’s become too blurry to distinguish it from hatred and love.
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OSCAR PIASTRI.
Oscar glowed like the moon solely rose up to soak in his light, like the stars twinkled off his radiance.
Maybe,you just got too close to the sun, enchanted with its brightness, to not realize just how much it could burn you.
He was your sun.
No actually the sun, stars, moon whatever celestial body existed perhaps dimmed down compared to him. 
You think it messed you up completely when you kissed him in that truth or dare game surrounded by your mutual friends. You think about the stolen kisses, never more, just kisses in between the times you’d pass by in the hallways, pulling him in a cramped space and leaving with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. 
Simply put, you were addicted to him. To the way he made you feel. To the way he made you tingle when he kissed you so gently. 
You didn’t want to address the elephant in the room. Or in this case, 
What were you two?
Lando asked when you were sitting down in the same circle, just like the first time you’d kissed each other, with the same people. 
You hesitated and then said, uncharacteristically enthusiasm lacing your voice,
“Friends of course! Don't be ridiculous Lan.”
You didn’t like that word, and it seemed he didn’t either as he looked away, gulping in distaste and a scoff on his face that was usually unnatural for the sunshine like a boy.
Seemingly going unnoticed by you but Lando who asked the question noticed and glanced back at you to see if you noticed. He sighed when he saw you not looking at Oscar but raised an eyebrow as he saw you in a dilemma. 
Right. Friends. Friends who kiss. But still friends…friends?
You tried convincing yourself the rest of that day that adding a label would ruin things. It always does. You should enjoy it while you can, right? It was all in fun?
So why did you feel terribly down when Oscar refused to talk to you for the rest of the day?
“Os?” You asked gently and he sighed exhaustingly as he looked at you,
“Please, please don’t…don’t call me that.”
The look of hurt on your face made him hate himself more because why would anyone like to hurt someone they loved?
Before you opened your mouth to speak, he continued,
“I don't think I can do this anymore, this…whatever this is. I am…sorry.”
And without a chance to ask more questions or give any answers, he turned around and walked away.
This was your fault. You hurt him because you couldn’t admit it to yourself that you…that you loved him. 
You loved him more than the universe, you loved him since the day you saw him. You were just scared you'll lose him like the way you lose all your loved ones. You were scared of risks. You were…a coward.
And now it seemed, it was too late to do anything about it.
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a/n : if you have read this before somewhere, it's my own work of svt ( 1 and 2 ) which i have re-written to fit these boys <3 i just thought they would also fit them too and well...let me know what you think ^^
the rest will be uploaded too because i think i will be writing a new one for the others as i don't know if they would fit into the written ones :") pls let me know what you thought of this!!! ( also i cannot make oscar evil or the heartbreaker i just cantt </3 and i know the irony of charles being a soccer captain and well how he plays lmfaoo i just let it be for shits and giggles <3)
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i am opening reqs for f1 and taglist for this so let me know if you want to be added cause I do have a lot more planned !
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | f1 masterlist ! | info !
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imthepunchlord · 2 days
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I think that the main problem with Marinette is that she always gets blamed for minor things, but her bigger mistakes are ignored.
She also gets blamed for things that aren't her fault. Like Reverser I blame Nathaniel and his extreme expectations, and Refleckdoll, it was Alya who was making things worse for Juleka while Marinette was trying to help. Gamer's another as she did play fair and square, and won fair and square.
But yeah, ML has an issue with priorities. With the mindset that ONLY Marinette can be at fault, which has her at fault for things that actually aren't her fault or are minor things when there are bigger faults with others; and that, for Marinette's actual faults and issues, they don't focus on the actual problems.
For one thing, Marinette is a perfectionist, in her work and responsibilities, and in how she helps people. This leads to her being meddling and controlling. With good intentions but she can take it far. She even has this idea that only she can be the solution, though more in an Atlas complex way than being egotistical.
Which I'll give the show this, by how it's set up, Adrien and Marinette kinda feed this bad aspect of their dynamic into each other. Adrien goofs around as a hero or doesn't take situations seriously with his flirting at bad times, so Marinette feels like she has to step up more as leader and responsible one, and Adrien doesn't get a chance to take things more seriously or be the leader as Marinette doesn't expect him to, which leads to his frustration of not being as valued as a partner like he wants and he acts out, and Marinette sees she can't rely on him as much and it just cycles.
I know the show sorta tries to address this with the insistence that Marinette can trust Alya and doesn't need to shoulder everything, which is great, if they didn't take it back right away validating Marinette in being right in not trusting Alya.
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Which man, that's one of Marinette's actual big issues, and you address it, and then take two steps back and reverse and vindicate the flawful mindset.
Another big issue is her over involving herself in this she doesn't or shouldn't get involved with, meddling included. She could do to ease back, let others solve their own problems. Like, Darkblade comes to mind (though there may be a better example). I do think it was a good episode, but you got Marinette admitting she's already busy, and doesn't want to be class rep, but steps up as no one else is. This is just an added responsibility she doesn't need but does so because she's involving herself in others problems.
This also leads into the other issue: Marinette's tendency to overpile onto her plate. They even focused on this in Gamer 2.0 but instead of doing a lesson of learning to ease up, take a break, and have fun (which Adrien could've been great for, heck, could've had them bond over a busy lifestyle); but nope, she passes Max off to her parents and continue being busy.
And of course, there's the big issue of her crush.
Like, they're 13-14 yos dealing with first crushes, they're going to be cringe and crazy as they don't know how to handle this, but they just take it way too far. And the extremes it's taken isn't even funny but concerning.
Marinette having his schedule.
The hoard of pictures.
Jealousy that spirals to extremes.
And having rose colored view of Adrien, to thinking he can never do wrong and feeling like she needs to protect and assist him, even at the risk of herself (Collector).
Part of the worst part about this is that this exists for the writers' amusement, taking it to unlikable extremes and not portrayed as really bad flaws that need to be addressed or have lessons about; which leads me to question what's the exaggeration and what can be more accurate/reasonable for the cringey, dramatic crush. Some of which could've been fine issues to fault her for and for her to get called out and learn from, but we don't get that, all we get is unpleasantness.
Oh! You could also cover Marinette's lack of prioritizing herself, and may not knowing how to take a break and have fun. Cause I don't know if this girl knows how to relax. And she definitely doesn't behave like a kid, but much older. Could even delve into the friendship problems she has not really connecting with her friends as well because she doesn't know how to be a kid, how to mess around and goof off.
Marinette has a good number of issues and flaws that can be addressed and worked with, but they pick the wrong ones to focus on.
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centrally-unplanned · 23 hours
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youtube
Academic History YouTuber Premodernist released video recently on "State Flag" discourse, and flag discourse more wildly, that I thought was pretty good! I agreed with 50% of it. For those who don't know, there is a longstanding movement in the vexillology community to push for more simplified flag designs, and they hate the state flags of the US as their antithesis; a movement that catapulted into the internet mainstream when YouTuber CGPGrey released a video riffing on that debate and grading all the state flag designs.
That video is great by the way (it's hilarious, CGP Grey is just very talented as a performer), and the biggest thing Premodernist is wrong about is that the state flags do suck. But what he gets right is that the so-called "principles" briefly referred to in the video are themselves pretty weak; some are fine but others do not hold up to much scrutiny. The state flags largely suck for the boring reason that they just suck; they are shitty designs and often repeat each other in a domain where "standing out" is the point. Like what the fuck Montana:
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This is something a 5th grader whips up in PowerPoint for a class presentation. Helvetica Bold?? "Mandated by law in 1985" yeah I didn't need Wikipedia tell me this decision dates to the 80's.
But that is boring and subjective, right? You can't just say they suck. So you had to make a theory about it - and I won't go into too much detail but it generally boils down to:
Make it simple, "something a child could draw"
Make it "distinct at a distance", since it is a flag you are supposed to see it at a distance
Three colors or fewer
No words on flags
Which I think you can get the philosophy for. These principles, which CGP Grey outlines, actually come from the work of Ted Kaye, who is a big figure in the aforementioned flag reform movement and the focus of most of the video. As part of the original CGP Grey video I just rolled with that, but I did remember him showing Utah's newly designed flag at the end which embodied these principles, and uh:
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This is kind of mid? Like it doesn't suck, but it looks like a corporate redesign of a hockey team logo or something. A bit of a red flag (hah) if your front-and-center case is weak.
Anyway this is what Premodernist digs into in the video. The stuff I agreed with the most are the parts where he just ???? at some of these rules. "No finicky bits", a "child must draw it", "distinct at a distance"? None of these actually track for say this one:
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A child drawing the US flag does not draw 50 stars and 13 stripes unless they are a budding librarian; you absolutely cannot tell if this flag has 50 stars on it from a distance, and that level of detail is clearly some kind of finicky. Of course your response is "okay sure but still, I can tell what the flag is from a distance, I can't count the 50 stars but I get the gist". But that is true for almost all flags!
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It's a fern and a peace pipe and a brown thing and the word "Oklahoma" below it, you absolutely, 100%, will be able to tell what this flag is at a distance. You don't need to count the leaves to get the general shape, and when you think about it, it is actually kind of silly anyone would claim otherwise. There just isn't any need to appreciate the tiny details on a flag to understand whose flag it is. (the only valid critique here is that everything should be bigger - too much dead space)
Not to mention the "see from a distance" thing even being a metric. That isn't how you encounter flags most often today? Maybe in the 19th century on a battlefield that was (and even then you had battle standards), but it isn't now. You see it in textbooks, on your computer screen, as an icon for a football game team, right next to you in a government office. Why privilege distance? You just made that up as a value. 99% of "flag consumption" is not seeing it at a distance.
The "only use ~3 colors thing" is the funniest, you can just argue this with...no? No you don't. You don't. What? No. You can...you can just use more colors? Here is an example from the "manual" Ted Kaye wrote on the subject:
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And the 5 bands on the chinese flag are fine! They are not "hard to look at" or whatever. Also, I am screenshotting a tiny corner of a youtube video, this image is like 240p, and I can tell its a dragon - and that isn't even the color point it is trying to make, dude just deviates off into another critique. Meanwhile the Amsterdam flag looks like a traffic warning sign. Chinese flag needs to not have the white stripe connect into the white seal background, that is an error, but otherwise I prefer it.
It is annoying how many of the state flags are a blue banners with a round seal in the middle. That does make them hard to distinguish from each other. But that isn't a problem with seal-on-blue, that is just a collective action problem! Flag-reform-favourite the tricolor can run into this too - here are the flags of the Netherlands and Luxembourg:
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Like one of your needs to go home and change, that is ridiculous. Though if you had a complex seal in the middle that might avoid this problem! Funny that.
Even the "no words on a flag" argument, which I am more sympathetic to, doesn't hold up too well because too often you find yourself going "unless it is good" which just isn't a rule. The Iranian flag is the stand-out he mentions:
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The middle crest is a stylized rendition of the name Allah, and the cursive lining on the tricolor bands are text as well - God Is Great, 22 times, marking the anniversary date of the Islamic Revolution. Stylistically beautiful, also words on a flag. The state flags just didn't try to do anything artistic.
I think the best point Premodernism mentions is a sort of stylistic unity Kaye & Co are pursuing above all else - everything sacrificed for corporate minimalism. Kaye's book will say it respects history and symbols should be meaningful, but then hates any symbols that require complexity. He singles out Turkmenistan as an ugly flag for example:
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And as I said I only 50% disagree sometimes, I do think there is a complexity limit, and this flag goes over it, that is too detailed. Though the main reason this flag is bad is the weird choice to not put the banner at the edge, and have the crescent just...float off center? If it was this:
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Two seconds in paint, already better, you can play with it. But anyway, you can say the symbols are too complex, but if you also say you care about historical meaning? Turkmenistan is a nation of traditional semi-nomadic tribes, who populated the Silk Road and made textiles as their ultimate expression of art. These carpet guls are traditional symbols used in those carpets that represent the five major tribes that compose the country. You can't just invent new symbols that have equal meaning to these, right? Like you can try if you want, sure, new symbols become meaningful all the time. But a rule that says "all art from before 1950 is tossed in the dumpster because it wouldn't pass muster as a Pepsi logo" is a weird rule to adopt if you say you value historical meaning. Turkmenistan does not have to look like France, and it is weird to want every national symbol to be aesthetically coherent to each other. Let 100 flags bloom! It is certainly "distinct at a distance" lol.
Anyway that is enough summarizing of a YouTube video - as I mentioned, he actually likes the state flags, I don't, I do think you have to balance a lot of this with just "general design principles". Never have your name on a flag in Helvetica Bold, amazing I had to write that one down for you. But a lot of these flag-specific rules derived from Kaye's work I often see bandied about are silly, and I was glad to see someone point that out.
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moonchildstyles · 5 hours
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y/n and harry broke up. he goes on a date, and y/n drives in the rain.
wordcount: 8.5k+
—————
(Y/N) knew it was hypocritical to be feeling jealous at the moment—pathetic, even. She was there that night, she knew she was the one that ended her relationship with Harry. He was single, and there was nothing wrong with him going out with another girl; he could take her to whatever restaurant he wanted, including the one that they had found together last month. 
It had only been a couple of weeks, though. And, he had been the one that wanted to try and work things out with her. Harry had been the one that was insistent that they could work through this—the miscommunications, the lack of time together, the passive aggressive arguments—, but now he was the one moving on nearly immediately. She wanted to cry that it wasn't fair, that he was supposed to still be torn up about it the same as she was. 
It wasn't as if she didn't love him anymore or was itching to get out and meet other people, she was just finding herself more unhappy than she was happy when she thought about him. He had told her that he loved her, that he wanted her—needed her—when she had sat him down, she thought neither of them would be moving on this quickly. 
But, it's fine. It's whatever. Good for him. 
Locking her phone, she placed it face down on her kitchen counter with a startling slam. She didn't double check to see if she had cracked her screen, instead stepping away from the device all together as if it wanted to sulk just as back as she. If her phone was a good friend, it would delete the Instagram app as soon as possible; there was no reason to see any more pictures of Harry and his new friend at dinner. 
Forcing her head to clear, (Y/N) padded through her apartment with the intention of cleaning up. The last weeks had left her with heartbreak brain, chores having been pushed to the wayside as she recovered. When was the last time she went grocery shopping? Had she really run out of tissues or did she have an extra stash in some closet she'd been too lazy to check? 
She shook her head, taking the pile of dirty socks to her washing machine while her mind raced with distractions. It was late, but she could go grocery shopping, at least to pick up a few essentials so she didn't order in again for the next couple of days. Seeing the world for another reason instead of work would be good for her, she thought. Even if the thought of putting on shoes that weren't slippers made her want to tear up. 
After starting up the washing machine, she trudged up the stairs towards her room. The cloudy night called for something warmer than the ratted t-shirt and frayed shorts she had on, leaving her to rifle through the collection of sweats she had tucked in her dresser. No matter the garment she pulled out of the drawer, didn't seem to be enough; not thick enough, soft enough, warm enough. Leaving the pieces in a mess in the drawer, she didn't let herself think before she was drifting to her closet where there was a too familiar hoodie hanging up. 
The smell wasn't quite as strong as it had been weeks ago, but there was still a faint scent of Harry's cologne embedded in the fibers. It was truly nothing more than a plain black hoodie, the material showing wear in the way the strings were tied into a bow at the neck with frays at the end, holes lining the sleeve hems, and a lipstick stain smeared on the back shoulder in a shade she had on her bathroom counter. Though it was his hoodie, she had stolen it enough times that it lived at her home with Harry taking it back every now and then, imprinting himself on it for her to revel in once he gave it back. 
Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she knew it was a bad idea. There was no reason for her to wear that hoodie. Really, it was surprising that he hadn't asked for it back yet—especially if he was going out with other girls. 
It would be crazy for her to wear it, right? It was not normal to be mourning a relationship she ended. That was not her hoodie.
She slipped it on, anyway. 
As much as (Y/N) was crazy, and hypocritical, and jealous, and insensitive—she missed him. 
This whole thing would be a lot easier if she wasn't still in love with him. If he had just broken her heart and ruined those feelings for him, she wouldn't be feeling insane as she pulled the sleeves over her hands and pretended as if she wasn't breathing in his scent. 
Going out didn't seem so bad when she had this on, though.
Collecting her bag and keys, she made a point to rush through the final steps of readying herself before she was going out the door. If she waited too long, she might end up crying in this hoodie instead. 
Outside, it was raining much harder than she had initially thought. Pulling up her hood, she attempted to protect her hair from the droplets though there were casualties that were immediately pasted to her face. By the time she made it to her car, the hoodie was beginning to grow heavy against her back, rain streaked down her bare legs (in the interest of getting out of the house, she didn't change from her shorts like she'd wanted), and her lashes made heavy with mist. 
Once safe inside her car, she pulled in a heavy breath. 
She could do this. While Harry was out at dinner on a date, she'd go pick up some spaghetti noodles and more cheese than she should eat in a week.
Because she wasn't upset. She wanted to be broken up. She's fine.
With a forceful turn of the key in the ignition, (Y/N) gladly focused on the mechanics of driving through the rain as opposed to everything else on her mind. The clean scent in the air filtered through the cab, comforting her more than she realized. 
No doubt, she could do this. 
Pulling onto the main road, she turned up her music to be heard over the sound of the rain beating against the windscreen. The pavement was slick, dyed a slate black with the help of the droplets, puddles growing in every small divot in the road. The streetlamp twinkled off of the gathered water, rippling with each added drop. Everything was just a bit bleary through the windshield, even with the reach of her wipers going in overtime to wipe away the streaks. 
While she was never a huge fan of driving in less than perfect conditions, especially at night, the scene out here tonight was a perfect match to the pit in her stomach. It made sense for the weather to act this way, she thought; she was too torn up for the world to be given a cloudless, warm night. 
The music playing sifted through a playlist she'd found the other day, her search having been nothing more than for "breakup music". While she didn't know every song, or if she was even allowed to be moping to the tunes considering she was the one that cut things off, the lyrics she could catch were felt in her chest with a weight on her lungs. The ones about the other party moving on before the singer was ready stung particularly sharp tonight.
Especially when an all too familiar song started up, a voice she'd heard thousands of times before pleading with his ex lover to keep from calling her new flame "baby". 
This song had come out long before (Y/N) had met Harry, written with another in mind, but she remembered listening to it back then. She remembered wondering just how heartbroken one would have to be to write stanzas just as these, how hurtful it would be to see your love finding someone else to take your place. 
(Y/N) automatically reached out to skip the song, not even knowing it was on the playlist despite it being an obvious pick, but her hand stopped short. 
It'd been weeks since she heard his voice, even longer since he sang around her. Even if this was through speakers, mastered and fit to music, it was something she'd been missing despite pretending she didn't. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, dropping her and back to the steering wheel as if she hadn't just submitted to self-torture. 
As the tune went on, (Y/N) no longer had to wonder what kind of heartbreak went into poetry like this. She was right where Harry used to be, wishing he would give her just a bit longer of pretending to be his baby before he chose another. 
She hadn't realized she was tearing up until her wipers were unable to keep her view from being blurry. The rain outside now paled in comparison to pools glimmering at her waterline. Her skin felt hot, resistant to the chill seeping through her vents. She didn't even make it through the full of the outro before she repeated the song once more, knowing it would only spur her tears on that much more. 
Before she knew it, her bottom lip was quivering before a broken sob puffed from her lips. She sniffled with tears racing down her cheeks, searing over her warmed skin. 
It wasn't her business, but did he share the same bite of sushi with this new girl that he'd also given to (Y/N) a month ago? Did he order the same bottle of rosé? Did he reach across the table to push her hair out of her face just as he did for (Y/N)? Was tonight going to be the first date they would relay to friends and family when asked how they had found someone so special? She had no right to ask any of these questions, but was Harry going to fall in love with this new girl? 
Did he think of (Y/N) at all tonight, like she was thinking of him? 
The idea of being on Harry's mind at all was enough to have her hands tensing around the wheel, but the thought of not crossing it at all had them shaking instead. Her eyes were flooded, hands wavering on the steering wheel, skin warm and nose wet. The rain beat down against the hood of her car with as much force as her heartbeat, riding the tempo as if she couldn't hear it well enough in her ears. 
She shouldn't've left the house tonight. It would be way easier to sob like this if she wasn't having to also keep track of the road in front of her and the slick pavement beginning to flood with more water than the drains lining the sidewalks could handle. At least she seemed to be the only one out on the road at the moment. 
Scrubbing her hand over her eyes, she attempted to clear them in hopes of regaining her focus. The song was over now and she planned on wiping that song and subsequent album from her vicinity as soon as she made it to the grocery store. 
By the time she blinked her eyes open, lashes sticking to one another under the weight of her tears, she was only a few hundred feet away from the vague outline of a stoplight. She hadn't even seen the light shift from green to yellow, let alone to the blazing red that shone overhead. 
Of course, now would be the time she saw one other person on the road, already creeping out into the intersection to use their own green light. 
In a knee-jerk reaction, (Y/N) stomped on her brakes. Her breath caught when she felt that tell-tale give under her tires, the feel of the back of her car shifting out of sync with the steering wheel. 
The broken rattling of her heart was replaced by the pounding of the beats against her ribs as she realized there was no way she was going to stop. She was currently gliding over the road, her tires unable to grip onto anything underneath them through the layer of rain on the pavement. All she could do was turn the steering wheel and hope that her car followed, hopefully missing the poor bystander who would learn that she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have been when coming to the intersection. 
Every thought in her head seemed to happen in slow motion, but the world around her raced by in a second. She could feel her mouth moving, her voice muttering curses that made no sense, but there wasn't a single sound she heard over her heartbeat. Beyond her windows, the rain blurred every moving shape, her foot still heavy on the brake despite it being a fruitless effort. 
Headlights shone against her face for a brief second before she cranked the wheel, spinning just in time as she hit the middle of the intersection. Her new bleary view showed off the vague outline of the pole of the stoplight for a brief moment before spinning out even further until she was facing the direction she'd come in, her car turning in a complete one-eighty in her lane until everything suddenly stopped with a metallic crunch. 
She heard the impact before she felt it. Her driver's side door whammed into the pole of the stoplight, denting through the layers of metal with the window cracking and breaking. Prisms of glass rained over her, grazing her face and tops of her thighs with prickling shards. Her dented door threaded to push in on her before stopping, leaving a pressure against the side of her body and a complicated way to get out of the vehicle once she found her head. Her dashboard was lit up with every caution insignia as if she had no idea of what had just happened. Through the broken window, rain began to stream in, seeping into the cuts on her face and legs. She shivered though she couldn't feel a single chill from the air, her body beginning to reel from the accident she had just found herself in. 
In the back of her mind, over the pelting rain and pounding heartbeat, she heard her breakup playlist filtering through the remaining speakers. 
A wretchedly familiar voice singing about fine lines and being alright. 
"Hon? Are you okay?" 
Turning to face the nice woman who'd come to check on her after witnessing her blunder, (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond. 
She burst into tears.
—————
Harry really needed to stop wearing this necklace. 
He'd known that for the last few weeks, and, yet, every time he'd thought to unclasp it and put it at the bottom of a jewelry box to never be seen again, he never had the strength to. Instead, he continued to wear it every day, absently playing with the single pearl sitting at the base of his throat. 
Natalie watched as he fiddled with the pendant, but he still couldn't get himself to stop his idle hands. 
He hadn't even wanted to be here tonight, anyway—he had to self-soothe somehow, even if that meant playing with the necklace his ex-girlfriend gifted to him. 
Natalie was nice enough, a friend of a friend of a friend who'd been around to some parties here and there, but she wasn't (Y/N). Harry had only agreed to come out tonight in hopes of giving him a reason to wash his hair and eat something that wasn't bread or coffee while sitting on the kitchen floor. Even with clean hair and an order of his favorite sushi cleared from his plate, he still felt slices of guilt; one for going out with someone while still being very hung up on his ex, and for going out at all with someone who wasn't (Y/N). 
Harry wasn't stupid, he'd caught the cell phones pointed in his direction when he and his date had been seated. If it wasn't up already, it was only a matter of time before those photos would be circulating on all of the socials and appearing on timelines. He could already picture the headlines for tomorrow morning, detailing the mystery woman on this dinner date while questions about his previous flame were posed. He just hoped (Y/N) would somehow be able to dodge these flecks of news—even for only a couple of days. 
Hopefully, he'd have a chance to talk to her before she knew. If she was open to hearing from him, he'd explain where he was coming from in even agreeing to this date, and maybe she'd take him back. If she knew he was still in love with her, willing to change his schedule, relearn how to communicate, start going to therapy weekly again, would it be enough to salvage their relationship? 
"But, what about you?" 
Being pulled from his head, Harry had to face Natalie with a blink of his eyes. She had been talking about a movie or something—or was it her last holiday?—, but he hadn't heard a single word. Another pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 
He thumbed over the pearl at his throat. "Um... I'm so sorry, wh—" 
Divine intervention came in the form of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He shot an apologetic smile at Natalie before slipping the device out of his pocket, eager to pick up for whoever was on the other side. 
Until he saw the contact name, anyway. 
(Y/N)'s mother. She was calling him. 
"Who is it?" Natalie asked, canting her head at Harry's startled expression. 
"Um... Jus'—uh—someone I haven't heard from in a while. I have to take this, 'm sorry." 
He didn't catch Natalie's reaction before he was rising from his seat and heading towards the front door with the phone pressed to his ear. Rain sprinkled over his head while thunder cracked in the distance. A darker storm was moving in. 
"Hello?" 
"Harry?! Harry, are you there?" 
"'M here, yeah. Is everything alright?" He'd never heard her voice in such a frantic state, especially not over the phone like this. Was she that upset over the breakup? 
"(Y/N)—It's (Y/N). She's been in an accident, and I—we—Her father and I, we're—She's alone. I-I know you two broke up, but she's in the hospital by herself and the nurse said she's not doing okay, she's—I don't know, I don't want her to be alone but I can't get on a flight until tomorrow morning and there's—" 
Frantic chattering continued on through the receiver, but there wasn't a single syllable that was able to breach his thoughts. 
(Y/N) was in the hospital. She'd been in an accident and was now at the hospital. Alone. She wasn't doing well while she was in the hospital after being in an accident, all alone. 
His stomach turned. 
"Wha—Where's the hospital? What hospital is it?" 
Was he having a heart attack? Every beat of the organ fluttered at the base of his throat, the chambers squeezed tight. 
He needed to find her. She couldn't be alone. She had to be okay and he needed to be there. 
Her mother shakily relayed the name of the hospital and room number, stumbling over the syllables until Harry had them seared into his memory.
"I-I'm so sorry to ask you, I know what—" 
"No, no," he shook off her words, "Th-Thank you for telling me. 'M going to her right now, I'll let you know how she's doing." 
Shaky goodbyes were shared with quiet sobs sounding on the end of the other line. Harry felt breathless as he stowed his phone away, hands shaking with fumbling fingers. His head was a mess. 
All he wanted to do was go—get in his car and go, be with (Y/N). But, there was Natalie sitting at their table, a dessert ordered to the table with their check of sushi and wine waiting with their server. There were people around them who would no doubt post about any kind of commotion he sounded tonight, perhaps even leak his location if hearing he was on the way to a hospital in the city. (He usually liked to see the best in others, but it'd happened before, these wild invasions of privacy). 
Despite every instinct pushing him towards the parking lot and abandoning the night, Harry forced himself to walk back into the restaurant. He held a thin grip on his control, but it was enough to get him back to his table with Natalie so he could quietly speak with her. 
"Is everything okay?" she asked before he'd even taken his seat. 
Swallowing, his throat bobbed as he shook his head. "No, actually. I—'m really sorry, Natalie, but I have to go. My, um, a friend of mine—they're in the hospital. I need to go." 
Natalie's features were marred with surprise, mouth dropped open with her lashes in a glimmering flutter up at him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. That's so scary. No worries, go ahead I'll take care of everything. Call me when you can, okay?" 
Meeting the blue shimmer of her gaze, Harry felt his features tighten. She was much too nice for him. 
He wasn't going to call. 
Harry didn't say anything before he was rushing out of sight, only stopping at the hostess station for a slick second to tell the staff to charge the card attached to the reservation. Natalie was open to order whatever she wanted for the rest of the night, but she wasn't paying for a single cent. This would be his apology for never calling. 
It was with shaky fingers that he typed in the name of the hospital (Y/N) was at—all alone—as soon as he was in his car. Though his heartbeat didn't settle much, his head felt a bit clearer knowing that with every mile he was cruising down the street, he was growing closer to (Y/N). His hands couldn't stay idle for very long, consistently reaching up to the necklace around his throat. 
(Y/N) was going to be alright, right? 
The question warmed the backs of his eyes, flushing his skin. As much as he wanted—needed—to be at her side, Harry realized he wasn't sure what he was walking into. Her mother had said she wasn't doing okay—whatever that meant. What kind of scene was he going to walk into? 
Stop lights and brake lights passing in a blur through the growing rain, Harry made it to the hospital in record time. The pavement was slick, reflecting the glow of the streetlamps and the many car lights bumbling through the carpark. He didn't think before he was pulling into the first spot he found, parking at a sloppy angle before he was rushing out. 
With the rain coming down, his hair fell across his forehead, slicking to his skin. The droplets acted as the tears he was unwilling to shed until he saw (Y/N) in person. 
He marched his way into reception, shoes squeaking over the linoleum. Behind the desk, a woman perked up, spotting him with bored eyes before she perked up with recognition he knew too well. 
"Hi, um, how can I help you?" she sputtered. 
Unable to muster a greeting smile, he kept his eyes low. "I—um—I need to see someone, please?" 
The rest of the checkin passed in a daze, Harry only barely able to keep himself from begging to see (Y/N). He relayed as much information as he could, showing any kind of identification needed. He was more than thankful to hear that her parents had approved his visit during their initial phone call, something he filed away for later so he could thank them when he had a clear mind. 
The best thing he heard, the one that stuck glaringly in his mind, was the fact that she wasn't housed anywhere to be treated for critical pain. She was being held somewhere safe and hopefully comfortable. 
Following the given directions, Harry felt like a ghost as he floated through the different doors and elevators. He moved restlessly while he dinged through the floors, feet shuffling while his eyes were trained on the rising numbers. 
Was this the slowest elevator on earth? Or were they always like this? 
Once set free on the correct floor, Harry floated through the halls, sweaty palms pressed into the pockets of his pants. All he could focus clearly on was the room numbers pinned beside the doors, the thumps of his heart bubbling in his ears. 
After going down what felt like endless miles of hallways, the correct room number finally appeared before him. The door was shut, the lights inside dim. His hand hesitated on the door handle.
He had been so consumed with making it to her, to make himself feel better with the sight of her, that he hadn't really considered if she would even want to see him. If she wasn't asleep at the moment, would she just kick him out? She had been the one to break up with him, anyway. 
Before he could doubt himself any more, he pushed through, keeping his steps light over the linoleum. 
Just as he thought, the room was quiet and dark, rain streaking down the window. There was a warm glow coming from the standing lamp at the corner of the room, machines beeping along with the television with a made-for-tv movie playing. A whiteboard marked with her name was pinned to the wall, filled with stats and jargon Harry didn't have the mind to decipher. 
Amongst it all, (Y/N) was laid in the hospital bed with the thin covers pulled to her middle. Her eyes were shuttered, showing off the bruising underneath alongside the myriad of cuts over her skin. As peaceful as she appeared, sleeping away under the crumpled sheets, Harry couldn't help the tears that touched his eyes. 
With the door closing behind him, he drew closer to her bed. It didn't take much examination to spot the tear tracks glimmering on her cheeks, the swollen puff of her lips. It was the same way she'd looked when she had told him she didn't want to be with him any longer. 
Harry wasn't sure what broke his heart more: the obvious evidence of weeping on her features, or the fact that her tears would have skated over every cut and scratch marring her cheeks? 
He shuffled over the floor. He wanted to be at her side, hold her hand and let her know she wasn't alone anymore, but he didn't want to wake her. There was a reason that she wasn't allowed to head home after being checked out by the hospital team, the more rest she received the better. 
Instead, he gingerly made his way to her bedside, taking a spot in the uncomfortable chair seemingly waiting for him in the lamplight. With the way she was laid up in the bed, he had an unobstructed view of her relaxed features, some of the more notable injuries on her face bandaged up while others were left treated with nothing more than a glistening salve. She didn't look particularly comfortable, especially knowing how she usually liked to curl up with her hands to her cheek and legs to her chest, but this was better than nothing. 
Better than being in a wrecked car somewhere. 
The thought was sobering, enough to have those tears he had been urging away to resurface on his waterline once more. 
She was here. (Y/N) was okay—hurt, but well enough to be left to sleep on her own. She was no longer alone. 
He hung his head in his hands. He didn't want to think about what kind of accident would have put her here, blood on her face with machines monitoring every vital in her body. 
With those tears in his eyes, peeking up at her between his lashes, she looked like a watercolor painting. The edges were blurred, leaving the general outline of the person that filled his dreams and became his muse for the better part of the last year and a half. 
He couldn't believe the last month of his life. He'd lost her. And for what? Because he didn't think it was important enough to send her a text when he was going to be out later than initially thought? Because it was easier to let his schedule happen to him, as opposed to shaping his life around making enough time to spend time with her? Because why would he talk to her, tell her where he was coming from, when he could be passive aggressive and sweep everything under the rug instead?
The beeping of the heart monitor was the pitched baseline that anchored him to the room. Every dotted sound kept him from being swept away in the rivers of tears dripping down his heated cheeks. 
He could have lost her today. In the worst case scenario of this day, he would have received a very different phone call. He wouldn't have had the chance to sit at her side right now. He wouldn't have seen these healing injuries on her, instead having only old photographs to remember what life looked like on her. 
As cracked as his heart was at the moment, he would take these cuts and scrapes, this uncomfortable chair, the stiff set of her bedding, over any other ending this night could have had. 
The rain pelted against the window as Harry fixed his gaze to the love of his life. 
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, if it had been nothing more than a few minutes or if it had been hours at her side, until there was the soft click of the doorknob twisting with the door pushed open. Entering was a nurse in soft purple scrubs, hair pulled back and a clipboard in her hands. She had her eyes trained down before looking up to catch Harry wiping his eyes and (Y/N) unstirring in her bed. 
"Oh, hello," she murmured, voice soft as they were both aware of the patient in bed, "I didn't know she was having any visitors tonight." 
A barely there smile curled Harry's cheeks, his skin smooth of dimples. "Yeah, got here as fast as I could. Have you been helping her?" 
The nurse shook her head, "A little, but she's been asleep for most of it. Poor thing cried herself into exhaustion, so I doubt she really remembers meeting me." 
Her statement had his bottom lip quivering. Harry had to remind himself to be grateful she was even here to cry. 
"She's doing alright, though?" 
With a quick glance at the clipboard, the nurse nodded her head. "Yeah, she's doing much better—now that she's calmed down a little. We've just gotta keep an eye on her for tonight. She got a good crack to her head, so I want to make sure she doesn't sleep for too long tonight." 
Harry gave her a nod, a moment from offering to wake (Y/N) for her before the nurse stepped forward. In gentle tones with a hand to her shoulder, she woke (Y/N). 
Unlike her, she had been sleeping rather lightly, jumping awake after only a single call of her name. (Y/N) fluttered her eyes open, lashes sticking together from the dried crust of her tears, enough so that she reached her scratched hands up to rub the mess away. 
"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, her voice in a croak as she got her bearings. 
"Hello," the nurse responded with a gentle smile, "Sorry to wake you, hon. I just wanted to check on you, then you're good to go to sleep, again." 
"Okay," (Y/N) breathed, struggling to sit up. 
Without thinking, Harry surged forward, helping her as much as he could. The second he put his hands on her, (Y/N) jumped, having not seen him prior.
It was clear she was more than surprised to see him with the way her eyes widened, blanching at the sight of him. 
"Harry?"
He offered a quiet, thin smile, sitting back in his spot once she was stable, sitting up for the nurse. "Hi." 
Before much else could be shared between them, the nurse began running her tests. Small talk was shared between the two, (Y/N) glancing more than once in Harry's direction. His hands were a fiddling mess in his lap, watching with rapt attention as every evaluation was run. 
"Everything's looking okay—what I expected we'd be seeing," the nurse mused, writing down her information on the clipboard in hand, "But, how are you feeling? Any extra pain, anything you want me to take a look at or mention to the doctor?" 
"I'm fine," (Y/N) smiled, the expression less than convincing, "Nothing hurts any more than earlier." 
"Okay, okay," the nurse nodded, "That's good, let me know if that changes. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, so get in your rest while you can." 
A pointed look was placed in Harry's direction at her last statement, a teasing curl to the corner of her lips. (Y/N) gave a sheepish nod. 
"Right, thank you." 
The nurse departed with a couple of well wishes and a reminder that she'd be back in a few hours. Once the door clicked behind her, a stiff silence settled between them. The only sound came in the form of the mechanical beeping of the machines around her and the ending of the television movie playing. 
(Y/N) had her eyes facing ahead, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Harry stared at her. 
"(Y/N)—" 
"You're here." 
His throat bobbed as he heavily swallowed. "I am," he nodded, dropping his gaze to his picked cuticles in his lap, "Your mum called me." 
A furrow had her brow pinched. "Her and my dad are on vacation right now." 
Another nod, a strand of hair touching over his forehead. "They'll be back tomorrow morning, but she wanted someone to be with you tonight." 
Maybe it was the way her shoulders tensed, the glassy look that took over her gaze, or the pinch to her features, but something brittle settled in the air between them. Every breath felt delicate as he waited for any kind of response. 
"I'm sorry." 
It was his turn for his brows to knit together. "For what?" 
That fragile tension between them cracked. 
"You were on a date." 
Harry hung his head, lips thinning. He thought he would have more time to explain this. 
"'S not what it looks like, (Y/N)." 
She shook her head, voice quiet under her breath. "So it wasn't a date?" 
Sucking in a breath, his lungs squeezed. "I mean—It—Yes, it was a date, but—" 
The beeping of her heart monitor heightened, the pitch seemingly hitting higher than a moment before with the pace quickening. "So it is what it looks like." 
"(Y/N), 's more—there's more to it than that." 
(Y/N) only shrugged at his half-hearted response, her head hanging between her shoulders. 
Harry felt just as defeated as she looked now. This wasn't how he wanted to reunite with her, but he guessed beggars couldn't be choosers. This was the opportunity he had, and he wasn't going to turn it away. 
"What happened tonight?" he murmured, shifting the conversation away from his own blunders. Unfortunately, this avenue would be an easier section to stomach than anything she would want to know about his date. 
"I got into an accident." 
"I know," Harry gently prodded, "But, what happened? Y'usually only hit curbs, not anything else." 
His shoulders loosened when his teasing was enough to draw a huffed laugh from her, a slight smile softening her features. 
As much as they may have deteriorated recently, he did know her. He knew her better than he knew himself. 
"It was just raining really hard, and—I don't know—I wasn't able to stop like I thought. I slid and hit a pole, and... yeah." 
As much as he did like teasing her about her more precarious driving habits, he knew more than anything that she was cautious. It wasn't like her to settle into accidents like this—she rarely ever drove in weather like this anyway, let alone at night. 
"Y'never drive in the rain," he pressed, an unaired question bookending his words. 
"I know." 
Harry looked at her, waiting for more than those two syllables. It was fruitless, he knew. 
He hung his head, running an absent hand through his hair before his fingers found the pearl at his throat. Eyes on the floor between his feet, he couldn't look at her as he spoke once more. 
"(Y/N). What happened tonight?" This isn't like you. Why did this happen? 
The air in the room seemingly went still. 
When he chanced a look up once more, he saw her sitting in her hospital bed with sparkling tears in her eyes. His chest panged at the sight. He knotted his fingers tighter together, forcing himself to see from reaching out. 
"(Y/N)...," he started, voice decidedly more gentle than a moment before. 
She shook her head. "I didn't want to be home—and I was crying, and I wasn't paying attention and the rain was heavier than I thought—and just... Everything happened." 
What was worse? Hearing that she had cried more than once tonight, before she'd even got in her accident, or seeing her recount it with another set of tears racing down her cheeks? 
This time he couldn't help himself; Harry reached out to touch her wrist. Her skin was warm under the chill of goosebumps on her skin. While she didn't move to hold his hand like she used to, she didn't flinch away. That was enough, he thought. 
"Why were y'crying, lo—(Y/N)?" He internally cringed at his slip up. He had no place calling her anything but her name. "What happened?" 
Another shake of her head. "It's stupid," she sniffled, fluttering her eyes closed with the tears clinging to the tips of her lashes. 
"Not if it made y'so upset that y'ended up here tonight," he crooned, words a quiet lilt only for her to hear, "What happened?" 
"I—It's..." she cut herself off more than once, throat bobbing, "I don't... I was the one that broke up with you, I-I'm not supposed to be upset. It-It's not fair." 
Her voice was barely a whisper by the time she finished speaking. His hand on her wrist tightened, a snug warmth against her skin. He ran his thumb over the bone, pretending he didn't feel the cut just on the underside. 
He waited. 
Another made-for-tv movie started on her television. 
He waited. 
She took a deep breath. Her eyes still closed.
"You went on a date tonight." 
Harry's shoulders deflated. 
"(Y/N)—"
"No," she peeped, shaking her head with her arm stiffening under his hold, "No. You were on a date, and I'm crazy and I'm not supposed to be upset, but I couldn't handle it—I didn't want to be home alone an-anymore. I didn't think you'd be over it already since I'm not, but you-you can do whatever you want an-and I need to be okay with that. And, then you—your music, it started playing while I was driving and I-I—Harry, I couldn't stop crying and then I crashed." Her voice was clogged in her throat, muddy and thick. Her tone came in waves, ebbing and flowing until it gave out. "I'm sorry." 
There was no chance Harry had of keeping his own tears at bay as he listened. It was too much—all of it; hearing her beginning to sob over the thought of him being over their relationship, how just the sound of his voice over her speakers brought her to tears while driving, the fact that she'd seen photos of him out on a date had driven her from her home to get away from herself. 
He felt his skin flush, the warmth heading down his neck the same way his tears did. He sniffled his nose, his lips rolled between his teeth to keep himself from blurting out each thought he couldn't help but to have. 
He doubted telling her how much he loved her was going to be much help when she was so dedicated to the thought of him already finding someone new to replace her. 
"You—" he cut himself off when his voice came a croak, clearing his throat with his hand on her wrist. "Y'don't have to be sorry, (Y/N). You're not crazy, either—I don't know what I would do if I'd seen y'go out with someone else, either. Y—'M jus' sorry, I never—I didn't mean to—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured, shaking her head as she slid her arm out from under his hand, curling into herself while she refused to open her eyes. "It's not your fault—you—I ended our relationship, you can do whatever you want." A shuddering breath had her shoulders shaking, lungs rattling. "I-I'm sorry you're here instead of with her." 
Just short of climbing up on the bed beside her, Harry pulled his chair as close to her side as he could. There wasn't anything he could say—nothing that he could imagine would shift her mind on what she'd seen and decided was the truth. All he could do, even if it involved uncomfortable bending of his joints, was collect her into his arms and hold her. It was only then that the slow roll of her tears were let loose into full weeps, her face buried into his neck. 
She burrowed against him, sinking into him as if the last month hadn't occurred. His hands spanned over her form, familiar with every plane and curve. His fingers caught on the raised abrasions that could be felt through her thin gown, but Harry could only be grateful that those were the only evidence of her accident. The mechanical beeping of her pulse skittered high, enough so he worried that the nurse could be alerted of the disturbance. Nonetheless, he held her tighter. 
"There's nowhere else I want to be," he murmured into her hair, his voice watery like the tears running down his cheeks. 
Reaching towards him, (Y/N) wrapped her hands in the wool of his jacket, fingers clawing into the fabric in a tighter grip than he'd expected from her state. "E-Even tonight?" 
Her cry was thin and pathetic, causing Harry to pulse his arms around her once more. "Tonight—every night. As long as 'm with you." 
He could feel the flutter of her lashes as she cinched her eyes shut tighter. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again, just audible given how closely he had her wrapped around him, "Wh-What about her?" 
He shook his head against her hair, his nose skating over her crown. There would be a time to really unpack why he found himself at a candlelit table with Natalie, including everything that was going through his head every time she spoke to him, but that wasn't tonight. She needed him, and all of the reassurance he could give more than he needed to clear his conscience and monologue over his feelings. 
"She's not you and that's all that matters to me," he told her, sincerity dripping in his tone, "All I want is you." 
(Y/N) cried in a blubbering sob, "I didn't think you loved me anymore." 
Harry's own eyes had to be shuttered closed then, a fruitless attempt in hopes of stemming the tears falling out of his eyes and into (Y/N)'s hair. "I didn't think y'loved me anymore, darling." 
"I-I do, I do," she countered, shaking her head in his neck with her grip tightening on him, "We-We just never saw ea-each other anymore, and I-I thought you were mad at me all th-the time and I thought we'd be happier apart—b-but I was wrong and—" 
"It's okay, it's okay," he soothed her, starting a circuit of his palm over her back, "I-I understand. But now we know—you're all I want, an-and I'll do anything to make it work with you." 
"You're all I want," she whimpered, voice tight, "Don't leave me." 
While a part of him was soaring knowing that she was still in love with him, that this wasn't over the way he'd thought, he was still more than heartbroken to hear that she was so torn up and broken herself. She thought she had no choice but to end the relationship in hopes of making both of them happier elsewhere. He never imagined himself making someone he loved feel that way. 
"I won't." 
—————
Rubbing the lack of sleep out of his eye, Harry stood back as (Y/N) checked out of the hospital. Her mother was twined to her side with her father looking just as distraught, though he was better at giving his daughter space. They'd come straight here as soon as they landed only a couple of hours prior, walking in on Harry who had stayed far longer than the originally carved out visiting hours with (Y/N) still in his arms. 
Gratitude was exchanged between them—Harry for coming to (Y/N)'s side at a moment's notice, and her parents for telling him at all and letting him be there for her—with a thread of stiffness lingering afterwards. Harry couldn't blame them; the last they'd heard about him was the fact that he'd been dumped by their daughter along with all the reasons why. They didn't know what had come of the night before, yet, only seeing the aftermath of their tear puffed faces and his arms wrapped around her.
Truthfully, Harry wasn't even sure where he stood with (Y/N) at the moment. Promises uttered through sobs after a traumatic event wasn't something he was going to hold her to. Even if he wanted to believe she was still in love with him and wanted to be with him like she'd said last night. 
Armed with paperwork and parents at her side, (Y/N) nodded to the nurse at the checkout with a plastered smile. Though they were still clear on her skin, the cuts and scrapes she'd earned in her accident didn't look so bad when she smiled with light in the eyes. 
Though he was still a bit too far away, he could hear the mumblings of a quiet conversation happening between (Y/N) and her parents. He was sure she was going to go home with them, and sort out everything else that couldn't be helped with a night at the hospital, but he'd wait until he knew she was safe before he'd leave himself. 
He watched from the corner of his eye, giving them privacy, though he could see (Y/N) waving off her parents before stepping towards him. It was a lingering departure, her mother refusing to let go too readily, though she eventually resigned herself to head down the hallway towards the bank of elevators with her husband and her daughter's paperwork. 
(Y/N) took shy steps towards Harry, empty hands a fiddling mess. 
"You're still here," she said, voice quiet to match the waiting room. 
He shrugged, a small smile having curled the corner of his lips. Was he supposed to remind her that she had asked him to stay, or keep that ex-boyfriend barrier in place? (If it was even still standing, given the way she'd fallen asleep in his arms just hours before).
"You're doing alright?" he asked instead, scanning over the planes of her face as if he didn't have them memorized already. 
She nodded. "Just sore, but I think I'm just going to feel that way for a little while. My head's doing better, though—I still have a headache, but I don't think it's because of the accident." 
Though she ended with a laugh, Harry figured she wasn't sure what to make of last night anymore than he did. 
"'M happy you're alright," he told her, sincerity weaved through his words, "Are your mum and dad taking y'home?" 
"Yeah," she nodded, looking over her shoulder to the couple waiting at the elevators, "I think my mom wants me to stay at their house tonight, but we'll see." 
"Oh, y'don't want to spend hours watching soap opera reruns tonight?" Harry teased, a sly smile touching his lips. The curl only stretched when (Y/N) laughed. 
"Not particularly, but who knows," she said, sparing another glance over her shoulder to see the audience waiting on her, "Um, we talked a lot last night." 
"We did, yeah," he nodded, throat bobbing as swallowed, eyes dropping from her own, "But, we don't—'m not—If y'don't feel the same way as y'did last night, 'm not going to ma—" 
"I do," she cut him off, a bright chirp that matched the spark in Harry's chest. "I do feel the same, I mean. We should probably talk a little more, though, right?" 
A dimple dented Harry's cheek, suddenly feeling incredibly more alive than just a heartbeat before. "Probably." 
"Are you busy tomorrow? In the morning?" 
It didn't take a second thought before Harry was moving his schedule around to keep his morning stark open tomorrow. Those meetings could be moved—maybe even made into an email or a quick phone call. 
"Not for you." 
The blooming smile she gave him was reminiscent of the first time he pulled that flirtation on her. 
"Good," she quipped, "I'll call you tonight or something, then. Maybe we could get breakfast tomorrow?" 
"I'll be there," he cemented, "Jus' tell me when." 
The rewarding light in her eyes made it easy for Harry to forget the last month of his light (except for the night he'd just spent with her, of course). 
"I will," she told him, "Bye, Harry." 
Maybe it was the way she hesitantly stepped towards him, or the shy way she had her lips rolled between her teeth with a budding smile, or the memory of her warmth against his chest, but Harry didn't think before he was collecting her into his arms. (Y/N) melted into his chest on instinct, wrapping her arms around his middle. He could feel the mush of her cheek against the cuff of his shoulder. Despite the sterile scent of the hospital clinging to her, underneath it all was the familiar fragrance of her shampoo and sweet body lotion she somehow never ran out of. 
Drawing away first, (Y/N) only put enough space between them to get a look up at Harry. Though her eyes were bloodshot, bags darkening underneath, and the shadow of her tears lingering in the corners, he'd never seen anything more beautiful than (Y/N)'s eyes. 
"I'll see y'tomorrow." 
"See you tomorrow." 
Long after she untangled herself from his hold, Harry still felt (Y/N)'s warmth long enough to carry him home and keep him company until his phone rang a familiar tone later that night. 
—————
ahhhhhh I never write angst so I hope this turned out all right! thank you sm for reading, and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or anything at all send them in!
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yunwangja · 1 day
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undercurrents | signal no. 18
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"this was such a good idea,"
alisa sighs contentedly, setting down her fork with a satisfied smile. kuroo mirrors her expression, nodding in agreement, though his mind drifts elsewhere.
inside, a war is raging. everything about this feels wrong, but it's the right thing to do. at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
he tries to maintain his composure, to focus on the woman in front of him, but beneath the surface, he’s being torn apart. it’s maddening - the frustration, confusion, and anger building up inside. emotions he knows he shouldn’t be feeling, not now, not here.
kuroo was brought up to be a "good" guy. make the people around you comfortable, give them a hand when they need to, and help bring out the best in them. he lived his whole life being the reliable, friendly guy that is ready to give you a push whenever you need him.
in his mind, it means he can’t afford to be selfish. it’s simple: if it makes others happy, it should make him happy too. and when he wants something for himself? well, he should bury that desire, deny it for the greater good. because that's his "role".
that's how he mastered the art of masking his own feelings, hiding behind a smile, always keeping things light and fun. anything to avoid ruining the peace, to avoid letting people see how conflicted he truly is. if he messes up, in his eyes, he’ll have failed. the tetsuro kuroo everyone knows and relies on would be gone.
he knows kenma can see through it. kenma’s always been his voice of reason, telling him it’s okay to be honest, to not always put himself last. but it’s no use. kuroo can’t afford to believe that - not when the cost of expressing his true feelings seems so high.
so, he convinces himself that this is for the best, even though he knows deep down that if he could, he’d treat you so much better. he’d hold you close, knowing you belonged there. just seeing you smile could melt all his troubles away, and even the slightest brush of your hand would send his heart racing.
to him, you are everything. beautiful, kind, funny, and passionate. but it’s more than that. something about you makes him weak in a way no one else ever has. you make him want to be selfish, to want you all for himself, no matter the consequences.
he’ll do anything for you - even if it means forgetting you. because that’s what he thinks you want. you don’t need him complicating things with his feelings, not when you like someone else, even if you call it a harmless crush. it’s ruining whatever you already have. so, he’ll keep this up.
alisa and kuroo continued to talk, and he tried his best to get to know more about alisa, outside being his project partner and classmate. all he knew about her was that she had a little brother who was also into volleyball, which sparked most of their conversations before. besides, he needed to distract himself from thinking about you.
honestly, he feels bad. this date is probably something you both just wanted to try out, but he can't help but feel like he's forcing himself to be here when alisa is genuinely great.
as they finish their dessert and wrap up the conversation, kuroo can’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. he’s managed to put up the front, to act like everything’s fine. maybe if he does this enough, he’ll actually start to believe it. maybe, eventually, he’ll forget about you.
“i had a great time, alisa,” he says, turning to her with a small smile.
“this was a really nice date. i felt comfortable.” the lie slips out effortlessly, though he did genuinely enjoy getting to know her better.
alisa raises an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of amused confusion. “wait, what?” she lets out a small laugh, “a date?”
kuroo tilts his head slightly, caught off guard. “yeah?”
she shakes her head, still smiling. “this wasn’t a date, kuroo.”
for a second, the words don’t register. then, when they do, he feels his stomach drop. holy shit. embarrassment rushes over him as he quickly tries to backtrack.
“oh god,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’m sorry.”
alisa’s expression softens, and she waves it off casually. “no, no. did i lead you on? i didn’t mean to. i’m sorry if i made it seem that way.”
kuroo shakes his head quickly. “no, it’s not your fault. i just misunderstood. honestly, at first, i didn’t think of you like that, but when you asked me out for coffee, i thought - well, maybe.”
alisa nods slowly, her expression apologetic. “i’m still sorry, though. i guess i should’ve been clearer when i asked.”
he shrugs it off, offering a weak smile. “it’s fine. really. i hope this doesn’t make things awkward.”
alisa shakes her head this time, "don't worry, as long as we're on the same page. you're a great guy yourself, kuroo." she smiles at him.
he returns the smile, but inside, his mind is racing. despite the embarrassment, a strange relief settles over him, washing away the tension he’s been carrying all evening. it feels wrong to be this relieved, almost like he’s betraying the plan he’d set for himself, but the truth is undeniable.
why is he relieved? all of a sudden, although he feels emotionally tired from all the torture he gave himself throughout today, it's like his inner self was screaming, thank God.
a wave of emotions crashes over him, sudden and overwhelming, as if the universe is trying to tell him something. like, this was a sign.
he freezes, the thought hitting him hard. it's absurd, reckless even. after everything he’s put himself through today, after all the mental battles and efforts to push you away, this would undo it all. it goes against every rational argument he’s made for why he should forget you.
but the relief flooding his chest is undeniable, drowning out the logic he’s clung to. it’s like a voice, quiet at first but growing louder, insistent, cutting through his doubt until it’s the only thing he can hear:
he loves you, and it's you who he wants to be with.
without another thought, kuroo stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
“thank you, alisa. i’m sorry again. but i have to go.”
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"i want you, y/n."
his words echo in the quiet room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare, frozen in place. the intensity in kuroo’s eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the surprise or the weight of his confession that makes your heart race.
kuroo lets out a shaky breath, his voice raw. “i know you like tooru. and i know you’ve explained to me how you feel about him, how it’s always been. but even knowing all of that, i couldn’t stop wanting you.”
his gaze drops to the floor, as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “i kept telling myself that i didn’t have the right. that i shouldn’t want you. but no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t help it. i just do.”
there’s a vulnerability in his tone that you’ve never heard before. kuroo, who’s always so composed, so confident, now stands in front of you, his emotions laid bare.
“i don’t know if you’ll hate me for this or if this will ruin everything between us, but i... i can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”
his fists clench slightly at his sides, his voice almost breaking. “i’m tired of pretending i’m okay with it. tired of forcing a smile when all i want is something i convinced myself i couldn’t have.”
he steps closer to you, his eyes lifting to meet yours again, filled with something that leaves you breathless.
“from the day i saw you smile... i wanted you. even if that smile wasn’t for me.”
the room feels smaller, the air heavier, as you try to process everything he’s saying. a part of you wants to speak, to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you find yourself moving without thinking - your arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.
kuroo stiffens for just a second, caught off guard by your hug. he doesn’t know what this meant, but in the midst of his confusion, his arms come around you slowly, holding you close, his fingers curling gently into the fabric of your shirt.
maybe she just missed me, he thinks. or maybe you felt touched by his confession. he tries to make sense of it by thinking that you were too happy to see him that you just weren’t able to control it. he’s been avoiding you lately, after all.
you glance over his shoulder, and there were your friends, peeking around the corner, smirking like they’ve been waiting for this moment all along. you pull back slightly from kuroo, cheeks burning, and clear your throat.
“come on,” you whisper, guiding him toward your room to escape their prying eyes. once inside, you close the door behind you, trying to ignore the heat that’s rising to your face.
the two of you sit on the edge of your bed, but there’s still a careful distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you know how to cross just yet.
kuroo breaks the silence first, his voice hesitant. “so...”
you glance at him, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. you know you need to say something, but finding the right words feels impossible. after a moment, you take a deep breath and decide to start with the truth.
“you know about my last relationship, right?”
he nods silently, his eyes softening as he waits for you to continue.
“well… it scarred me. i decided after that… i didn’t want to fall in love again. i didn’t think i could be a good girlfriend, so i chose to just admire from afar instead.” you pause.
as you start to explain, kuroo starts to decipher what you’re trying to say. immediately, he thinks this would end up in a rejection. why would you say these things to him anyway?
despite this, he wants to listen to what you have to say. it’s not like he’s expecting you to like him back. you feel his gaze on you, unwavering, and it makes it both easier and harder to keep going.
“i told myself i didn’t deserve anyone. even more guys that i thought was out of my league. that was the case too when i liked tooru. it was safe... i knew nothing would come of it - the reason why i used to say i just wanted to be an ‘observer’.”
kuroo stays quiet, letting your words sink in. there’s no judgment in his eyes, just understanding.
“i did my best to run away from romantic feelings,” you admit quietly. “because i didn’t think i deserve to be in love anyway.”
there’s a pause, a heavy silence that settles between you. then kuroo speaks, his voice gentle but firm. “we both know that’s not true.”
“is it, though?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
kuroo shifts closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “do you really think i would’ve fallen in love with you if that was true?”
the question takes you by surprise, and you don’t know how to respond. “i... i don’t know,” you stammer, unsure.
he shakes his head slightly, his expression softening. “you didn’t need to be my girlfriend for me to see that you’re more than capable of being loved. you didn’t have to prove anything to me. i’ve always seen it. you’re perfect the way you are, y/n.”
his voice drops lower, filled with emotion, looking down. “i would’ve done anything just to call you mine.”
his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. you can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the truth behind every word he’s just said.
“kuroo,” you begin, your voice shaky. “i don’t like tooru anymore. i haven’t for a while now.”
his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face. “but... i thought you guys were getting closer?”
you nod, a small, rueful smile on your lips. “we were, but only as friends, nothing more.”
kuroo’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. tooru had been trying to push him toward you this whole time.
“kuroo,” you say again, gently pulling him out of his thoughts.
“yeah?” he replies, his voice a little unsteady.
“i know you just said you’re in love with me... but do you think i can?”
he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “can you what?”
you hesitate for a moment, feeling your heart pound in your chest.
“can i fall in love with you too?”
kuroo’s eyes widen in shock, his body going rigid as he processes your words. for a moment, he’s completely still, his mouth opening slightly as if he’s searching for the right response. the room feels charged with the weight of your confession.
you watch as he takes a moment to absorb what you’ve just said. when he finally speaks, his voice is a whisper, filled with disbelief. “w-what?”
you give him a small, rueful smile, and continue, “you know, getting closer to tooru was because of you. he was also helping me figure things out.”
kuroo’s eyes widen further, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “because of me?”
you nod, your gaze steady. “yeah,"
the pieces start to fall into place for kuroo, and you can see the understanding dawn in his eyes. he takes a deep breath, his expression a mix of relief and intense emotion.
and then, in a swift, almost desperate movement, he reaches for you, pulling you close. his lips find yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away, the kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.
his hands frame your face gently, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you can feel the tension melt away, replaced by something warm and undeniable.
when you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. kuroo lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.
“of course,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.
“please do.”
and then, without missing a beat, he kisses you again.
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notes
kuroo borrowed yn's phone and tweeted (and not because i didnt realize the plot hole immediately)
yn and kuroo sitting in a tree : D
this ends undercurrents OMGG UGHHKFSDHFKSDFS
i hope this was a good ending !!!!!
dw because a special chapter is coming !!! bc ik i'll miss this plus i want u guys to see sum yn and kuroo moments as a couple because WHY NOT
i'll properly conclude everything there !!
so technically its not officially done???
taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin @mochroialainn @avis-writeshq @sorrynotsorrh @walllflowerrrsss @viva-vxgue @chifuzzy @mikaela26sstuff
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enha-roza · 3 days
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ENHYPEN JEALOUS MOMENTS
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wc : 3k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・
Heeseung : 
It was the Golden Disk Awards where the Enhypen members were walking around the stage with the other artists at the end of the show when Roza and Keeho almost bumped into each other. Immediately Heeseung's eyes were glued to the pair as they started up a convo. Keeho being Roza’s ex was already one reason Heeseung hated the idea of them talking but a second reason came when he watched as Keeho sild his hands around Roza waist as they hugged goodbye before walking their separate ways. 
Heeseung knew he had no right to be jealous but he couldn't help it. Roza, oblivious to Heeseungs Mood, cheerfully joined him by his side. “That felt a little awkward” She giggled as Heeseung brushed her off, joining Jake's side in front of him. Roza, confused as to why he did this, quickly joined his side again. “Is something wrong?”. “Nope…” Heeseung deadpanned as if the problem was obvious. “You're acting weird…”. “I wonder why!” Heeseung rebuttals as he walks further ahead not wanting to deal with this on stage. Jake, who had witnessed both Roza and Keeho talking as well as Heeseung's reaction, immediately knew what was up. “Hey, don't worry i'll talk to him” Roza thanked thim before joining Sunoo and Sooyoung as they waved at the fans.
“Dude, no way you are jealous that Roza talked to Keeho-”. “It's not about that!” Heeseung cut him off. “It's… it’s the way he touched her… makes me feel uneasy!”. He said as Jake listened. “They can talk for all I care but he acts like her boyfriend when he's not. He doesn't need to touch her like that”. “You Touch her like that and you're not her boyfriend…” Jake teased as Heeseung glared at him. “That's different”. “Not really. I mean you literally would kiss her if given the chance”. “That's not the point!”. “But you're not denying it!” Jake smirked as he winked at him before leaving a very flustered Heeseung behind. 
Later when Roza was sitting at her desk writing some lyrics, she heard a knock on her door. “Come in!” Heeseung's head poked through her door before asking if he could talk with her. “Yea what's up?”. “I wanted to talk about earlier…” Heeseung said, pulling her to sit on her bed with him. “I saw you talking to Keeho, got a little angry and took it out on you which i shouldn't have”. “That's what you were mad about?” Roza said, finally understanding what upset Heeseung. “Yeah I don't know… i think it was the way he touched you… twisted something inside me” 
Roza giggled as she understood that Heeseung was jealous of Keeho. “You're jealous!”. “What! No, I'm not jealous”. “You so are! You're jealous I was talking to my ex boyfriend and he gave me a hug!”. Feeling heat rise to his face, Heeseung just sat unable to deny his jealousy. “Okay maybe just a little… but still he doesn't need to put his hands all over you”. “Why? Because that's something only you can do?”. “Yes- I mean no but just not him. Next thing you know he's gonna kiss you or something” he blabbered as he got more and more defensive. 
“And why would you care… not like we're gonna kiss” Roza whispered as a smirk slowly appeared on her face making Heeseung suspicious. “Why are you smirking…”. “A little birdie told me you would kiss me given the chance…” Heeseung immediately knew Jake had told Roza about their conversation earlier. “That's not what I meant!”. “So you don't wanna kiss me?” Roza giggled as Heeseung started back tracking. “Not that I wouldn't, I just don't wanna make you uncomfortable and we're members, wouldn't that make things wei-” Heeseung was cut off as Roza planted a kiss on his cheek before giggling and walking out leaving Heeseung sat on her bed flustered, once again. 
Jay : 
Jay was the least likely to get jealous out of the enhypen members, so when he gets jealous it's pretty easy for him to calm down. The members day had started with some practice before some schedules. One of those schedules being the HYBE Caterer Games. The day was going well and the members were having a fun time with the other idols. 
It was the section where the idols had to bring someone who fit the question of the piece of paper they got. It was Roza’s turn when she got a paper which said ‘someone who plays guitar’. Roza panicking, looked around before running up to TXT’s table asking if any of them played guitar, when Beomgyu said he did she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him with her. Jay overhearing this felt a small pang in his chest. He plays guitar. Roza knows this very well. He often played guitar for her and sometimes she would sing as lays her head on his shoulder. 
As time came for Roza to prove her answer was good enough, the staff pulled out a guitar and told Beomgyu to play something. “If I play something you can sing!” Beomgyu said as Roza nodded, liking his idea. “Do you know ‘Wi ing Wi ing by Hyukoh’?”. “Yes, I love that song!” Beomgyu started to strum the intro before Roza started to sing along. The fellow idols clapped as the duo finished their mini performance. Jay watched wishing she had picked him.
When Roza joined the enhypen members after, Jay leaned over to ask her a question that was on his mind. “Why didn't you pick me for that question?”. “Oh my god, I completely blanked. Of course you play guitar! I knew I knew someone…”. Roza placed her arm on his shoulder trying to reassure him. “I swear if I hadn't panicked I would have picked you. I'm so sorry!”. Jay now feeling bad, quickly smiled seeing her clearly feeling bad herself. “Hey, it's okay! I'm just playing with you”. Roza, feeling better, laid her head on Jay. “I promise I will never sing as another man plays guitar again!”. “Only if it's me?”. “Only you!” Jay laughed at her dramatic Antics. 
Jake : 
One thing Jake and Roza had in common was they both spoke english. They almost exclusively spoke in english when it was just them two. So imagine Jake when Roza said in a live that ‘Felix was someone she loved talking to because they both spoke English’. It should have not rubbed Jake the way it did but he felt a little jealous at that statement.  He felt like whenever he spoke English with Roza, it felt like he could tell her anything, it was just them in their own little world. 
It also didn't help that Felix also was a close friend of Jake himself, being a fellow Australian. He knew Felix well and knew he was super kind and charming something Jake didn't think he would get jealous of. This came full force when both groups were promoting at the same time and they gonna film some tiktoks together. Felix and Roza paired up to do some together. Standing behind the camera Jake watched as the two interacted and spoke between themselves. 
Watching as the two conversed in English, laughed at each other's jokes, soon followed by a hug as the two parted ways. Jake felt a little childish being jealous of his two close friends getting along. “Felix is such a sweetheart!” Roza said, sitting down next to Jake in their waiting room. “Yeah, he’s genuinely one of the kindest people I know,” Jake said, almost zoning out. “Hey, you okay?”. “Hmm, yeah yeah, I'm good”. “What's with that face then”. “It's nothing… just missed talking to you” Roza clearly didn't believe him as the duo had spent all day talking to each other.
“Tell me the truth or I won't talk to you for the rest of the day”. “No, you're gonna laugh at me!”. “Why? What happened!” Jake, suddenly feeling shy at his jealousy, tried to avoid the question. “Jake… you know you can tell me anything”. “I don't know… watching you and Felix talk to each other made me feel a little jealous…”. “Really?”. “Yeah, I guess” he giggled as he avoided eye contact. “Well I hope you know you're still my favorite Australian!”. “Good! I better be. I'm the only Australian you should be looking at!” he said playfully. “Not even Chris Hemsworth!”. “Not even him!”. The pair laughed as they further talked between them, again in their own little world.  
Sunghoon : 
Sunghoon was a very jealous man. So adding Roza to the mix, someone who sunghoon was possessive over made his jealousy 10 times more heightened. While the members were at a fansign, Sunghoon noticed a male fan further down in line talking to one of the other members. This stood out to him as enhypen had an overwhelming amount of female fans. When time came for him to talk to this fan he unconsciously found himself asking pointed questions trying to find out more about the fan. “Who's your bias?”. “Roza definitely! She's very pretty and super talented!” Sunghoon nodded in agreement as they continued to chat.
After the male fan talked with Jake and Niki, he sat in front of Roza ready to talk to his bias. Sunghoon suddenly felt himself feeling very jealous. He knew they had male fans, how could they not. Both Roza and Sooyoung were gorgeous and talented, it was a given. But that didn't stop his jealousy for Roza anytime she interacted with a male fan. Without realizing he had been staring at the two as they laughed until a fan had sat themselves in front of him. By the time he had finished talking the male fan had moved on from Roza and had joined the others back in the audience. 
After all the fans had passed it was time for them to wear and show off the gifts the fans had given them. “Roza, can you pose for me please?” the male fan's voice called out, catching the attention of Sunghoon. Roza, who had now been decorated with a cute headband placed on her head by another fan and given a flounder the fish plushie, posed for the camera. “You're so pretty!”. “Thank you!!” Roza replied to him after he snapped multiple photos of her.
Sunghoon, feeling the urge to show Roza off as his, placed a leather jacket over her shoulders to match the one he had on. “Were a couple” he said out loud as fans giggled at the cute reaction. “Don't think I haven't seen you eyeing me and that male fan all day” Roza whispered as Sunghoon slid his arm over her shoulder posing for other fans. “I have no idea what you're talking about?” he whispered back, trying to gaslight her. “Okay sure… you definitely aren't jealous” she teased. Sunghoon just smiled before going to find more couple items for them to try. 
Sunoo : 
Sunoo and Roza quickly became close very quickly during I-Land. One of the things they bonded over being skincare. Every night the duo would sit in front of the mirrors and take off their makeup and do some quick skincare. Connection was a big thing with Sunoo, he enjoyed being in the presence of others and building unique bonds with them. Skincare was that bond with Roza. 
So understandably Sunoo felt a little upset when Roza skipped out on doing skincare with him to do skincare with the other female I-Landers. This was a special thing the two did, it had become routine. “Wait, did you already do your skincare?” Sunoo asked, looking at her fresh face. “Oh yeah, just quickly did it with the other trainees while the bathroom was free. “Oh okay…” Sunoo said walking off before he could show how upset he really was. Roza noticed his odd reaction and decided to follow after him. 
“What are you doing?”. “Just waiting around…i feel bad doing my skincare without you”. “Don't feel bad! One time won't hurt”. “Doesn't matter. Felt a little weird not doing my skincare with you anyway, so this will make up for it!”. Sunoo smiled as she hung around until he was done and both headed to bed for some well deserved rest. 
Sooyoung : 
Sooyoung and Roza were inseparable that's for sure. They shared secrets, dreams to achieve everything as idols, and a room filled with laughter. Often spending time in between their busy schedules to just be in each other's presence. Shortly after debut Roza made many friends with other idols. Sooyoung felt a twinge of unease each time she saw Roza’s glowing smile as she talked with Winter backstage or the cute post she made with Ryujin. Sooyoung watched from a distance, her heart heavy with jealousy. She missed her soulmate. 
One afternoon, while sitting in their shared room, she noticed Roza dressed up ready to leave. “Are you going somewhere?”. “Oh yeah, I'm going to hang out with Winter. We're gonna go to this new cat cafe!” Sooyoung nodded as she left the room. Sooyoung wanted to reach out. Saying she wanted to tag along but didn't want to bother them, despite her wanting to spend time with her Unnie. That feeling didn't go away though, soon Sooyoung found herself pacing in their room, wrestling with her feelings. Did she push Roza away? Summoning her courage, she texted Roza “wanna do something when you're done with winter? I miss you.”
To Sooyoung’s surprise, Roza replied almost immediately “Of course! Wanna go to a record store? Can get some of those Olivia Rodrigo albums you wanted!”. "Sounds good, I'll meet you later!”. After meeting up and shopping around they sat together on a swing, the sun filtering through the leaves of the tree leaves as the park slowly emptied out. Sooyoung took a deep breath. “I’ve missed you, Roza. I feel like we don’t spend time together anymore… I know that sounds kinda weird since we share a room.” Sooyoung said shyly, not sure how to approach this topic. Roza looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. “I had no idea you felt that way! I thought you were busy with your own stuff.”
Sooyoung nodded, feeling vulnerable. “I’ve been a bit jealous. I love your new friends, but I miss our time together.” Roza’s expression softened. “I totally get it. We've been caught up in everything, but you’re still my soulmate. I don’t want to lose that.” Relief washed over Sooyoung. “Me too. Let’s find a way to balance it all.” The girls smiled at each other, a renewed bond forming in the space between them. They made plans to hang out regularly, including their own cat cafe dates and some other hangouts with both girls' idol friends. 
Jungwon : 
Even though Jungwon was one of the youngest members of enhypen, he took his role of leader seriously. He often found himself looking out for Roza. she was a member who always looked out for him so he always tried to do the same back. One of the many things Jungwon liked to do was let Roza rest on his shoulder as she slept between schedules. Jungwon was doing exactly that when the manager came up to him telling him he had a tiktok to film with a fellow idol. 
After filming, Jungwon was ready to go back to his sleepy Noona. But Jungwon was a little disappointed when he walked back into the waiting room to find Roza’s head resting on Heeseungs shoulder. Sitting down next to them before moving Roza’s head so it would rest back on his shoulder, not Heeseung. “What are you doing?” Heeseung asked, confused. “It will be more comfortable for her like this” He replied making up a reason for her to rest on him instead. 
Soon Jake walked up to them filming for the behind the scenes. “And here we have Roza and Jungwon,” He whispered, zooming the camera in on Roza resting on Jungwon’s shoulder. Jungwon put his finger to his lips, “be quiet, our beauty is sleeping,” Camera now focusing on her sleeping face. “Leave us alone,” Jungwon jokingly said, hoping for some alone time. “Okay, okay!” Jake giggled as he moved to filming Sunghoon. His Noona quietly resting on his shoulder made him smile. 
Niki : 
Niki considered himself Roza’s baby. Her only baby. Even though he pretended to hate when his members babied him, he always felt cared for when they did. Especially when Roza babied him. Small things she did for him, making sure he's eaten, Buying him anything he wanted and many more. So imagine Niki’s reaction when he found out Roza had another baby or so he thought. 
Soul was someone Roza grew close to when she had dated Keeho as he was also half Japanese and half Korean, like Roza herself. It all started when he noticed a contact in her phone named ‘mini me’. Trying to sneakily look over her shoulder as she sent a cute message sending soul a supportive message wishing him luck for their upcoming comeback. 
“Who’s that?” Niki whispered. “Oh, it's soul from P1Harmony, he's also born in 2005”. Niki just nodded, feeling a small churn in his heart. “Are you guys close?”. “Yea, He reminds me of you, he's also a talented dancer!” Roza said cheerfully. “You guys could be friends!”. “But I'm still your baby, right?” Roza realized why Niki was acting so weird. “Of course you are!” she said, sliding her hand into his hair to play with it as he laid on her shoulder. “You're my only baby! Soul’s like a little brother to me”. “Promise?”. “Promise!”. The two wrapped their pinkies together as Niki snuggled into his Noona, happy to be her only Baby.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・
a/n : tried writing a decent amount for each member! hope yall enjoy xoxo
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djarins-cyare · 2 days
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WIP Wednesday
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Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.
Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...
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***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***
“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”
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Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚
@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges
@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf
@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym
@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4
@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr
@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie
@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense
@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours
@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini
@toomanytookas @vikingqueen28 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams
@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches
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dindjarindiaries · 2 days
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The End of Love
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summary: After losing Hunter to both his inhibitor chip and the Empire on Bracca, you and the squad stop at nothing to bring the real him back.
pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader
tags: angst, panic attack, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence, mind control, hurt/comfort
rating: T
word count: 9.780k
main masterlist • hunter masterlist
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His golden brown eyes had never looked so empty, nor so haunted. You stood and stared at him, breathless and frozen in place. He could snap out of it. He had to.
Rex had to be wrong. He had to be.
But then Hunter raised his blaster at you. You could only shake your head at him. Any of the protests you wanted to make were lodged in your throat.
You were wrong, because Rex had to be right. There was no way that Hunter, your Hunter, would ever point his blaster at you.
You couldn’t muster the strength to grab your own weapon, even though you were the last one standing between Hunter and Omega. She had at least listened to your instructions to flee and hide, but you didn’t know how much more time you could buy her. You couldn’t fight him. You wouldn’t.
Hunter’s blaster shook in his grasp. You weren’t sure why, but it devastated you all the same. You held your hands up in surrender, your own body trembling as you swallowed past the lump in your throat. You could only manage a whisper. That was still enough for Hunter and his enhanced senses to hear.
“Please.”
But you had already lost him. He pulled the trigger, you ducked down to try to avoid the shot…
And you sat up in your makeshift bed, gasping for air.
Your hand flew to your shoulder. It was no longer bandaged, thanks to the bacta treatments, but the texture of the forming scar could still be felt underneath your fingertips. You closed your eyes and attempted to catch your breath, but you were failing.
Because this wasn’t just a nightmare you experienced while you slept. This was a nightmare you were forced to live every single day.
“Sunny?”
Omega sounded as if she was underwater as her tired voice spoke to you. She was blurred by the tears trapped within your vision. You tried to reach out for her to assure her that you were okay, but the motion was scrambled in your own panic and devastation. Omega held your hand and wrapped the other around your arm.
Omega’s voice rose to a volume loud enough for the others to hear her. “Echo, help!” You pressed the heel of your free hand to one of your eyes as your body started to rack with frantic sobs. “It’s Sunny!”
It only took a few more desperate breaths for Echo to show up. Then there was a hand running soothing circles over your back, and a calming voice attempting to ground you back to your cruel reality. “Okay, Sunny. Tell me five things you can see.”
You worked your throat to speak around the pitiful sobs that tore through it. “Hunter…”
“Not inside your head.” Echo gave your back a gentle pat. “Out here. Open your eyes and tell me what you see.”
You obeyed, fighting the panic that seized your very heart as you did so. “I see Omega.” The young girl smiled at you, a gesture that was obvious even through the blurriness of your tears. “The weapons station. Hyperspace.” You looked down. “The blanket.” You wanted to cry for a completely different reason when you spotted the fifth thing sitting right in your lap, no doubt the work of Omega. “And… Lula.”
“Good.” Echo nodded in your periphery. “Now give me four things you can touch.”
You gave Omega’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Omega.” Your free hand lowered to your lap, just as your gaze had. “The blanket. Lula.” You searched for something else nearby, but came up empty—until Echo offered you his hand. “You.”
“That’s it.” Echo’s smile was evident in his voice. “You’re making great progress. You know what’s next.”
You nodded, because this exact process had become routine in the weeks after Bracca. “I can hear your voice, the hyperspace vibrations, and…” you strained for one more, “Wrecker’s snoring.”
Omega giggled. That at least got you to crack a smile.
Echo also chuckled. “What else?”
“I smell leather and a bunch of other confusing, gross smells that this squad can’t get rid of for some reason.”
That got even heartier laughter out of both Echo and Omega. “Damn right, Sunny.” He patted your back again. “One more.”
You glanced at your nearby canteen. “I could taste water if I drank from that.”
Echo bobbed his head. “Sure, I’ll take it.”
With your vision now clear and your chest rising and falling in normal breaths, you looked between Echo and Omega, who were equal parts relieved and sympathetic. You hung your head in defeat as you exhaled a heavy breath. “Thank you both. Again.”
“You don’t have to thank us.” Omega sounded just like Hunter as she offered reassurance. She squeezed your hand. “We’ll always help you.”
You lifted your head back up and caught Echo gesturing with his head towards Omega. “What she said.”
You shook your head, the weight on your shoulders causing them to deflate. Your eyes fell closed and your voice grew smaller. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.”
“It won’t be much longer at all.” Your eyes shot open at Echo’s words. He awaited your stare with a small smile. “We found him.”
You blinked at him, your jaw dropping in pure disbelief. You had lost count of the amount of days it had been ever since Bracca, but each one had felt like a lifetime in its own right. You had been so ready to give up completely. “Really?”
“Really?” Omega repeated your word with more enthusiasm.
Echo nodded. “Really.”
His confirmation opened up an endless stream of words and wonders from within you. “Where is he? Has he gone far? Is he alone?”
Echo set his hand over yours again. “He’s on Kaller.” Your eyes widened at that. “He must be looking for the Padawan he saved back when we first got the order.” Echo exhaled and looked away from your gaze. “Tech said Crosshair’s not with him.”
Your lips tightened at that. You had all been hoping that you could get them together and bring them both home.
“Where’s Crosshair?” Omega sounded hopeful, clearly still elated by the idea of Hunter being found. You had certainly been taking Hunter’s absence the hardest, but Omega was just behind you in that regard.
“We’re still not sure. Because he’s been placed in high command, he’s harder to track.”
You let go of Omega’s and Echo’s hands and held Lula instead, hugging the tooka doll closer to your chest. “Are we heading there now?”
Echo nodded again. “We are.”
You frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve woken me up.”
Echo softened and tilted his head at you. “Because, Sunny, you need all the rest you can get right now.”
You handed Lula off to Omega and prepared to stand. “Well, now I’m awake.” You stretched. “Let’s start planning.”
Echo sighed, though the fond smile on his lips proved it was far from being one of annoyance. “Yeah, we had a feeling you’d say that.” He started to stand with you and turned his head over his shoulder. “Tech, time to wake up Wrecker.”
“Affirmative.” Tech sounded just as alert as Echo was. You huffed to yourself; they had clearly been spending their watch shift locating Hunter, and then starting a plan. You might have had the most special connection to Hunter, but you were far from the only person who wanted him back, desperately.
Not just wanted, though. Needed.
“I’m coming to help, too.” Omega’s mind was made up, and the chin she lifted at both you and Echo proved it. The two of you shared a look before you both nodded at her.
You, Echo, and Omega all headed to the hold, where Tech and a half-awake Wrecker were awaiting you. Tech and Wrecker remained seated where they were, while Echo stood by Tech’s chair and Omega leaned against Wrecker’s. You paced the floor, your arms crossed and your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek.
“Our current inference is that Hunter has been assigned a miniscule squad.” Tech wasted no time getting right to it. “Despite this, it would be wisest to prepare for more numbers.”
“Exactly.” Echo was just as focused as you were, now. “Especially if we think they’re looking for a Jedi.”
“I will land the ship just outside the perimeter of the clearing where we last fought on Kaller.” Tech typed on his datapad, no doubt making note of the plans as a backup—or for his own research. “I advise splitting into teams.”
“I agree.” Echo nodded in Wrecker and Omega’s direction. “Tech, Wrecker, and Omega, you should all stick together and act as a distraction. We need to keep Omega away from Hunter for now. Sunny…” he paused and let his gaze flicker over to you, “we’ll go after him.”
You froze in place, the image of Hunter standing across from you on Bracca yet again haunting your mind. You were torn; you wanted nothing more than to see him again, even if he was still trying to kill or capture you, but you couldn’t forget the hesitation you had the last time you were forced to face him.
Ultimately, you let out a soft, defeated sigh. “I’m not sure if I can, Echo.”
Echo’s brow furrowed in determination. “If any of us can get through to him, it’s you.” Echo offered you a nod. “You can do this.”
Your haunted mind replayed that moment on Bracca, but this time, it focused in on Hunter’s shaking blaster. You couldn’t help but think, or maybe hope, that the trembling was indicative of him trying to fight the chip. If it was, then it proved Echo’s words to be true. You could have a chance of getting through to him.
And that was a chance you had no choice but to take.
You steadied yourself with another breath before you nodded. “Okay.” You resumed your pacing, even as you continued. “So, let’s say you and I succeed, Echo, and we get Hunter. What next? Do we go back to Bracca?”
Tech lifted a finger. “It is either the Jedi cruiser on Bracca or Kamino.” He adjusted his goggles as his brow rose. “Though Kamino is not much of an option, given our present… unfavorability with the Empire and the regs.”
“It has to be Bracca.” Echo was set on it. “We just have to make sure he stays unconscious until then.”
You tightened your jaw and gripped your upper arms tighter. The thought of keeping Hunter unconscious, no matter his current state of mind, was unsettling. You didn’t want him hurt.
That was what had made this situation so difficult for you in the first place. You knew Hunter, and you knew how he would feel the second he realized what had happened and what he, or at least his body, had done.
That was going to hurt him more than any physical wound ever could.
You stopped your pacing and faced the group. “That’s it, then?”
Echo and Tech shared a look before nodding. Echo provided the verbal confirmation. “That’s it.”
“Wait.” Wrecker’s voice betrayed his confusion, as did the furrow between his brows. “Who’s going to get Hunter?”
Tech frowned. “Echo and Sunny. We have already reviewed this.” He huffed and looked back at his datapad. “Perhaps if you paid attention.”
“I’m still wakin’ up!” Wrecker stretched out his arms. “It could be the middle of the night for all we know.”
Tech tilted his head. “On which planet, exactly?”
Echo sighed. “That’s enough of that.” He leveled both Tech and Wrecker with stern looks before walking over to you. He set his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We need to get ready. We should be dropping out of hyperspace soon.”
You lifted your brow. “We were that close?”
The corner of Echo’s mouth rose in a smile. “We were.”
You let out another steady exhale as the shock of all these quick developments began to sink in. Echo, recognizing this, took a step back as you gestured with your head towards the weapons station. “I’m gonna take some time to prepare.”
Echo nodded in understanding. “Take as long as you need, Sunny.”
You offered him a small smile of your own before you headed back towards your makeshift bed. Once you got there, you reached forward to pull the blanket off the item you kept hidden in the corner, close to the place where you rested your head every night to sleep.
It was Hunter’s helmet, the only piece of himself he had left behind on Bracca.
You held it between your hands and set it on your lap, with your legs crossed and folded underneath you. The empty visor stared back at you, familiar and comforting enough to make the corners of your lips twitch upwards. You lifted the helmet as you lowered your forehead, allowing the two to meet as your eyes fluttered closed.
You had found him, and you weren’t going to leave without him. You weren’t sure whether it was the stars, the Force, or the gods responsible for this chance, but you didn’t hesitate to thank them all. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“Are you nervous?”
Omega’s voice made you jump as you opened your eyes and lowered Hunter’s helmet back to your lap. She wore a sheepish smile as she sat across from you.
“I think we’ll get him this time.” Omega’s innocent eyes bore into yours, as if she was silently begging you for reassurance. “Do you?”
You had always vowed to be nothing but honest with Omega, mostly because she could sense a lie better than anyone else you had ever known, and you were able to do the same now. “I do.”
You handed Hunter’s helmet to her. Omega took it, her gaze giving it a once-over as her chest inflated with a soft inhale. She then hugged the helmet against herself, closing her eyes just as you had before. “I can’t wait for him to be home.”
You maneuvered yourself to Omega’s side and set your hand upon her back. “Me too.” She leaned into you, and you rested your head against hers. “And he may not be thinking about it yet because of that chip, but I’m sure he can’t wait to be back, either.”
Omega reopened her eyes and looked up at you. “Are you gonna tell him?”
You blinked at her. “Tell him what?” Your chest flared with panic at her knowing more than you wanted her to.
Instead, Omega’s gaze gestured to your shoulder. “About your scar.”
You twisted your lips. “I have a feeling he’ll already know.”
Omega’s expression fell. “You mean… you think Hunter will remember everything he’s doing?”
You gave her a solemn look. “Do you remember when Rex told us about the chips at Cid’s?” You paused, giving Omega time to recall the memory. Once she nodded, you went on. “He said it wasn’t something that could be controlled. He would’ve only known that if he experienced it for himself, and remembered it all.”
Omega’s sweet eyes searched yours before she lowered her focus to the helmet in her lap. She hugged it just a bit tighter and let out a worried sigh. “He’ll be so upset.”
You offered her an encouraging smile. “But at least he’ll have us.” Omega’s gaze flickered back up to yours. “We can help him through it.”
Omega returned your smile and nodded once more to agree with you. She rested her head against you again, and you assumed the same position as before. The two of you sat together with Hunter’s helmet in peaceful silence until the Marauder jolted out of hyperspace.
Echo poked his head inside Omega’s makeshift room. “We’re here.”
Your stomach fluttered with a confusing mixture of anxiety and excitement as you acknowledged him with a nod. You focused back on Omega as you held her face between your hands. “Ready?”
Omega set her jaw as her kind gaze hardened with determination. You started to smile at the traces of Hunter you saw within her. “Ready.”
Your smile widened before you bent down to give her forehead a kiss. You then eased Hunter’s helmet from her lap and put it back in its spot, though it would hopefully soon return to its proper place. Omega led the way back to the hold and the cockpit, where the rest of the squad had already gathered.
You braced your hands upon the back of Echo’s chair as you watched the atmosphere of Kaller grow closer. Everyone was holding a collective breath at the anticipation of the battle to come. There was an unspoken yet universally understood and agreed upon truth; you weren’t leaving without Hunter.
Even if that meant you didn’t leave at all.
Wrecker was the one who broke the tense silence. “Hunter’s done a lot for us.” He looked around the squad, his expression more serious than you had ever seen it. “The least we can do for him now is bring him home and save him from that chip.”
Everyone else started to nod in agreement. You, on the other hand, walked away from your place at Echo’s chair and gave Wrecker an embrace you both needed. He held you there for a few long moments, his gloved hand patting your back every once in a while. When you pulled away from each other, Wrecker set his hands on your shoulders and smiled.
He repeated Echo’s words from before. “You can do this, Sunny.”
You returned his smile and straightened your shoulders. “Thanks, Wrecker.”
You all took your seats as Tech lowered the Marauder to Kaller’s surface. Your heart leapt into your throat when you flew over an Imperial shuttle. You had half a mind to tell Tech to destroy it for fear of Hunter getting away again, but you bit your tongue. Hunter would know you were here, no doubt, but he wouldn’t run with a whole squad backing him up this time.
Once the ship was grounded and powered down, the squad rose to their feet. You triple checked all of your gear as the boys did the same. Omega had her bow and her comm, and she stuck close to Wrecker and Tech. Echo glanced at you before he spoke to the group.
“They already know we’re here.” Echo slid his helmet on as he continued. “We’ll stick together until Hunter leads them to us. That’s when we’ll split up. We’ll want to draw as many of their forces away from Hunter as possible.”
You steadied yourself with deep breaths as you nodded at him. Now that you were here, it was beginning to feel more real—and your nervousness was growing. The mere idea of facing Hunter and his activated chip again made your stomach tie into sickening knots.
Echo held up his blaster and gestured with his helmet to the open hatch. “Let’s head out.”
Echo continued to lead the way, weaving the group around the snow-covered trees until you reached the clearing from that fateful day when the war ended. You froze there for a moment, recalling the pure horror in Hunter’s voice when he realized what was happening. If only he knew then what was happening now, that the Empire had dragged him into it.
You swallowed hard and pushed on.
You descended the downward slope on the other side of the clearing and entered the density of the surrounding wood again. It was a lot harder to know when to stop without Hunter on your side. He certainly would’ve been able to hear them and sense their location by now.
Echo held up his scomp, a substitution for a fist. The squad stopped, and you began to look around your surroundings in a careful circle—but you didn’t see anyone. Your heart was racing inside your tightened chest, and each fogged-up breath you took sounded louder and louder in your roaring ears.
“So, you decided to come to me first.”
Hunter.
Your knees nearly gave out at the sound of his voice. It was even lower than usual, evidence of the way the chip was corrupting him. All of your heads snapped towards the source of the sound, and you watched as he emerged from the trees.
Hunter had painted his armor entirely black, and he had been issued a helmet with a green visor, just like Crosshair’s. Those were the only noticeable differences, until he paused and lifted the helmet from his head.
Your heart pounded even more violently against your chest as you caught sight of him. He had exchanged his red bandana for a simple black that matched the rest of his armor, and rather than letting his hair flow behind him, he had tied it back, aside from the usual small pieces that framed his face. The most notable difference, however, was still his dark gaze.
It was completely empty, and it was just as haunting as you had remembered it to be—especially once it locked with your own.
“We’re here for you,” Wrecker corrected him. “We’re gonna bring you home, Sarge.”
Hunter’s gaze flickered over to Wrecker as he huffed, his jaw circling and his brow furrowing. “I don’t think so.”
He lifted his free hand and waved two fingers, drawing his Imperial forces out of the shadows. Thankfully, as you observed them all, you realized Tech’s initial thoughts were true; he only had a smaller squad with him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Hunter set his helmet back over his head. “Not this time.”
Echo held his blaster tighter. “Yeah, and neither are you.”
Hunter’s fingers fluttered at his side before he gave the command. “Fire!”
You saw what he was reaching for. You leapt forward to lower Echo’s hand, causing it to just narrowly avoid being hit with the blade Hunter had thrown to disarm him. Meanwhile, as the blaster fire started to rain down upon you, Wrecker and Tech focused on shielding Omega and leading more of Hunter’s forces away. You took Echo and hid behind the cover of a tree.
After checking that your blaster was set to stun, you leaned out and fired in Hunter’s direction. He ducked behind a nearby tree, hiding from your shots. You took the opportunity to hop over to the trunk beside Echo’s, letting each of you have your own space.
“Go after them,” you heard Hunter instruct his troopers. He gestured with his helmet in Wrecker, Tech, and Omega’s direction. “The rest of you are with me. We’re going after those two.”
Echo tilted his helmet at you. “Told you, Sunny.” He chuckled and lifted his blaster. “Even with the chip, he can’t resist you.”
You rolled your eyes, and despite the severity of the moment and the anxious trembling that threatened to overtake your entire body, the corners of your lips turned up in an amused smile. “Let’s make sure we get him far away from the others.”
Echo nodded to agree with you. This time, you led the way, diving between the trees to avoid any of the blaster fire that was aimed in your direction. Echo was just behind you the entire time, and every once in a while, he shot off some stuns of his own.
You went far enough for the sounds of Wrecker, Tech, and Omega’s pursuers to disappear. Only at that point did you speak up to Echo through your panting breaths. “What now?”
Echo got a few more shots off before answering. “I have a theory to test.” He caught up to your side and nodded. “I’m gonna split off and see if he sends them after me.”
Your eyes widened. “You think Hunter will go after me alone?”
“Like I said.” Echo dodged a blaster bolt and hid behind a tree trunk. “I’m testing a theory!” He tapped his helmet. “We’ll comm if it doesn’t work!”
You inhaled before ultimately nodding at him. Echo patted you on the shoulder before he split off to the right, drawing their fire as he wove through the trees. You continued to the left and tried not to worry about him, or yourself. There was a high possibility that one of you could end up being the focus of all their firepower.
But deep down, you knew Echo was right, because you had seen it somehow inside Hunter’s empty gaze. There was a part of him that couldn’t keep himself from focusing on, and ultimately pursuing, you—and you could only hope it was the good part of him.
You heard the crunch of a branch from close behind you, and you didn’t have a chance to turn your head over your shoulder to see who it was. The same blade from before was whizzing through the air, thrown at just the right angle to catch the material of your shirt and pin you to the nearest tree trunk. Only one person could have an aim that precise.
You holstered your blaster to focus on pulling yourself free from the blade. Hunter was closing the distance quickly, and you weren’t waiting around to find out what he would do next. You cried out with effort as you managed to tear the blade from the bark. Instantly, you threw it back in his direction, missing on purpose so that it solely served as a distraction. It hit the bark of the tree across from you, and Hunter pulled it free without missing a beat as he barreled towards you.
You stumbled back and grabbed your blaster, holding it with both hands as you prepared to pull the trigger and stun him. Hunter stepped close enough to knock the weapon from your hands, though your sidestep kept him from getting any other hits in. You blocked each one of his blows, suddenly grateful for the long, grueling training sessions that he would do with you back during the war. You refused to go on offense, instead doing whatever you could to keep him from hurting you—for his own sake.
But being forced backwards wasn’t a stable way to fight. You soon tripped over a fallen branch, and that gave Hunter a window to kick your middle. You lost your breath the moment your back connected with a tree trunk, and in a flash, Hunter was upon you. His blade was at your throat, and his knee was pressed between your legs, keeping you in place.
Your eyes went wide, especially as Hunter took the liberty of removing his own helmet with his free hand. Your chest rose and fell in quick breaths, but all you could focus on was him. There had to be a piece of him left in his gaze, but all you could see was darkness, the same darkness that had been plaguing your nightmares ever since Bracca.
He shouldn’t have been hesitating to slit your throat, yet he was. The edge of his blade was kissing your skin, flirting with the very real possibility of swift death, but he wouldn’t make that final move.
The real him was still in there.
“Hunter.” Your voice was softer and calmer than you expected it to be, nothing more than an intimate whisper of his name. His brow was still furrowed, but you could see a muscle in his jaw flex. You swallowed hard, feeling the blade bob on your throat, and went on. “H.”
Hunter blinked at you. His brow softened for a split second, but then the knit returned with even more ferocity than before. “Don’t call me that.” His voice was a sneer. “Traitor.”
You remained soft, even if every single survival instinct inside you was screaming to tense up and fight for your life. “Come home, H.” You repeated the only thing you could say to him on Bracca. “Please.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes, but you couldn’t be fooled. The blade had started to tremble slightly against your skin, and just as Echo had worked on his theory before, you started to work on your own.
“I’m sorry.” You let the genuine, raw truths spill from your tongue as you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have waited until now to say this, because you deserved to hear this truth from me a long time ago.”
Hunter growled and tightened his grasp on the hilt of his blade. “Don’t.”
You ignored him. “I love you.” Your vision started to go blurry as tears pooled at your waterline. Your lips were trembling just as much as Hunter’s blade was. “I’ve loved you for a long time, but I wasn’t brave enough to say it. Not until I had to face a reality where I had lost you.”
Hunter blinked, his brow relaxing again as he absorbed your words. The shaking of the blade worsened, but he still didn’t lower it. Even your blurry vision could still make out the small, golden flecks that began to faintly illuminate his gaze. A piece of him was here with you now, and he was fighting to be here.
“I love you, H.” You dared to lift a hand to his tattooed cheek, your thumb tracing the outline of it as you did so. Your voice lowered back to a hushed whisper. “Let me bring you home. Please.”
Hunter’s gaze searched yours. Most of it was still dark, but that growing light was unmistakable, as was the trembling weapon against your throat—and the tear that fell from his eye. You caught it on your thumb.
He needed one last push to give himself completely over to you, if only for a moment, and you were going to take your opportunity to provide it.
Your free hand caught his wrist and moved it just enough to let you lean forward, sealing your lips over his. The hand on his cheek snaked back to the nape of his neck, securing him in place against you. Hunter hesitated to respond, but the moment your fingertips threaded into the hair that was secured at the back of his head, he gave in.
The blade fell from his hand and clattered to the ground as he instead focused on holding you against him. You were hit with a confusing mixture of emotions, with relief and pure love reigning above all the others, but there was also a strong trace of guilt—because as much as you wanted this, you couldn’t forget the reason why you were doing it.
And as you pushed your tongue through his parted lips, you drew his blaster from his holster, switching it stun and pulling the trigger against his armored chest.
Hunter froze, the shock of the stun running through him. You didn’t break away from him just yet, instead continuing to hold the back of his neck as you whispered your apology against his lips. “I’m sorry.”
When his knees gave out, you went with him, supporting him the best you could to ease his descent to the ground. It was only then, when you had his head cradled in your lap, that you realized how damp your cheeks had become from your own tears.
Your actions were numb as you kept one hand on his face and used the other to lift your comlink to your lips. “I got him.” Your voice shook, though you tried to project as much strength into it as you could muster. “I’m gonna need some help to—.”
“I’m on my way.” It was Wrecker who answered with protective decisiveness. The words brought a small smile back to your lips.
“So am I.” Echo sounded slightly out of breath, no doubt preoccupied with eliminating the threats that had trailed him. “I’ll be there in a minute or two.”
“Omega and I are en route to the ship,” Tech added. “I will bring it closer to facilitate a more expedient exit.”
You listened to their voices as you hung your comlink back on your belt and reached for your blaster in the snow. You then disarmed Hunter of his weapons and kept them tucked into other places on your belt. Keeping your blaster drawn, you held it at the ready, though it was trembling in your hand similarly to the way it had trembled in his on Bracca.
But this time, he wasn’t getting away. He was finally coming home.
Still, your shoulders weighed heavy with guilt at the things you had to do to him, and the fact he could potentially see your love confession as nothing more than a calculated tactic to get through to him. Nothing would devastate you more than him doubting the truth, especially when you had meant every single word of it.
You continued to repeat an apology to him as your free hand cupped the side of his face. Your gaze ran along the lines of his relaxed expression until they led you back to his hair. You took a deep breath and reached back to free it from its restraint, marking the first official step in bringing back the man who was trapped within his own, traitorous body.
You were so focused on Hunter that you didn’t even hear Echo’s approach. He was suddenly kneeling on Hunter’s other side, his blaster holstered and his hands lifting his helmet from his head. He wore the same expression that he did when he helped you through your nightmare-induced panic attacks.
“You did it, Sunny.” Echo’s voice was softer than you had ever heard it, and he reached forward to rest his hand over the one that was clutching your blaster. He lowered the weapon for you and nodded. “Just like I said.” The corner of his mouth rose in an amused grin. “I knew my theory would work.”
You huffed and raised an eyebrow. “You sound like Tech.”
Echo chuckled and shrugged. “Yeah, this entire squad’s starting to rub off on me, I guess.” He put his helmet back on as you holstered your weapon. “Let’s try to get him up.”
You nodded and reached for Hunter’s arm, waiting until Echo was ready to hoist him up. You set his arm over your shoulders and pushed up until you and Echo were back on your feet. Hunter’s limp head hung between you, and his boots dragged over the snow as you and Echo headed back to the clearing. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from externally reacting to the sight of Hunter like this, but even that couldn’t prevent Echo from knowing you as any good family member would.
“He’ll be thanking you for this once the chip’s out.” Echo’s visor glanced in your direction. “You know that, right?”
You closed your eyes and exhaled a steady breath. “It’s more than stunning him and dragging him around, Echo. It’s…” You paused, uncertain if you could even bring your fears to words.
“And like I said, he’ll thank you for it.” Echo remained firm in his reassurance. “Whatever it is that broke through to him.”
Your shoulders fell in defeat, but before Echo could question you about it, Wrecker burst through the trees. “There… you… are!” He was out of breath as he reached forward to take his brother’s limp body from you and Echo. “You guys… went far.”
You chuckled. “Yeah, that was the idea.” You smiled as Wrecker tossed Hunter over his shoulder, and once he was settled, you hugged Wrecker on his open side. “Thank you for coming.”
Wrecker held your shoulder with his free hand and echoed Omega’s words from earlier that morning. “You don’t have to thank me.” He secured his hold on Hunter and nodded. “Now let’s bring ‘im home.”
You grinned wider at that. The more members of the squad that you saw, the better you began to feel about it all. Your guilt still loomed like a shadow over your mind and your heart, but this family was a light that began to illuminate your darkest corners.
Echo and Wrecker stood close to both sides of you, keeping you in the warmth of their realms as the three of you made your way back to the clearing. The Marauder was waiting there for you, just as Tech had promised. Omega was waiting on the steps that had been lowered from the hatch, and as soon as the three of you stepped out of the surrounding wood, she gasped and ran forward.
“You did it!” Omega was smiling as she closed the distance to your group. You fully expected her to go to Wrecker and Hunter first, but instead, she went right up to you. Omega threw her arms around you and let the side of her face smush against your middle. “I knew you could do it, Sunny.”
You were too choked up to respond with your words, so you settled for holding her back just as tightly. Her pure love was a healing balm for your very soul. You hoped she knew that—and somehow, you knew that she did.
“Let’s keep celebrating inside the ship.” Echo was gentle with his directive as Omega stepped away from you. “We should get going so we can make it before he wakes up.” Echo nodded towards Hunter on Wrecker’s shoulder.
Your gaze fell to your feet. You didn’t like remembering that it was you who had put him in such a state.
Omega held your hand, drawing your attention back to her. Her eyes were wide with a sympathy that was genuine rather than pitiful. She kept her hand in yours the entire way back to the ship, only letting go once you were settling yourself next to where Wrecker had eased Hunter down onto the floor of the ship.
Hunter’s upper half rested upon the interior hull, his head and shoulders slouching under the weight of his unconsciousness. Either Wrecker or Echo had already taken care of restraining his wrists, in the event that he woke up and tried to fight. You steadied yourself with a breath and closed your eyes as you exhaled. It would all be over soon.
When you reopened your eyes, you caught Echo’s gaze from across the ship. Wrecker had taken Omega to the cockpit to witness the takeoff back to Bracca. Echo made his approach and knelt down in front of you and Hunter.
“If he wakes up,” you warned him in a low yet honest voice, “I won’t be able to do it again, Echo.”
“I understand.” Echo set a hand on your shoulder. “And you won’t have to.” He gestured back to the chairs behind him. “We’ll be right here, ready to do it for you.”
You smiled in the best show of gratitude you could muster. Echo squeezed your shoulder before he stood back up and returned to his chair. As soon as the hull at your back began to hum with the familiar sensation of hyperspace, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega were all joining you, too. Omega sat at Hunter’s other side, her head resting against his arm, while Wrecker and Tech stayed at the ready by Echo.
After a drawn-out stretch of silence, with tension thick enough to have been cut by your blade if you tried, Tech dared to speak—which hardly surprised anyone. “I must ask, Sunny.” He adjusted his goggles before going on. “How exactly did you succeed in… apprehending him?”
Wrecker swatted Tech’s shoulder hard enough to make him grunt in both surprise and pain. “You actually don’t have to ask that!”
“On the contrary,” Tech narrowed his eyes as his hand rubbed his sore shoulder, “this could be vital information should we run into another individual whose inhibitor chip is active.” He inhaled a gentle breath before going on. “Such as Crosshair.”
You ran your thumb over your forehead and sighed. “What I did won’t work on Crosshair.” You gained the faith to look up, just to see the entire squad staring back at you. Even Omega had lifted her head from Hunter’s arm. You steadied your shoulders and returned their eager gazes. “It won’t work on anyone.”
Tech raised an eyebrow. “Well, clearly…” He gestured towards Hunter.
You mumbled, “Anyone except Hunter.”
The ship fell silent before Tech yet again spoke up. “Ah.” His furrowed brow relaxed as his gaze cut away from you. “I see.”
Wrecker gave Tech’s shoulder another nudge. “I told ya’ you didn’t have to ask.”
“All that matters is that Sunny did it.” Echo finally entered the conversation with a voice of reason. “The next thing we have to focus on is getting to Bracca and removing Hunter’s chip.” Echo’s gaze caught yours. “Not the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ behind what’s already been done.”
Your lips stretched up in a small smile as you mouthed a silent Thank you to him. While you usually wouldn’t mind Tech pressing for information, this situation was more delicate than any other. You were having a hard enough time coming to terms with what you had to do to get through to Hunter.
Even if it had worked.
Echo kept Tech and Wrecker busy by discussing plans for getting to the Jedi cruiser on Bracca as fast as possible. You should have been participating in the discussion yourself, but you instead took the opportunity to wallow in your own self-pity, and to come up with things you would say if Hunter woke and immediately questioned everything you had said to him.
It was in the midst of this that you hear Omega’s hushed voice from Hunter’s other side. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about it.”
Your eyes widened as your head slowly turned in her direction. Omega’s brown gaze was piercing, but not in an uncomfortable way, as it flickered over your own expression. Even at her young age, she exuded a wisdom and a peace that was difficult to bring to words.
“He would have done the same to bring you back.” Omega nodded and gestured to the rest of the squad. “We all would.”
You let out a breathy chuckle and shook your head. “I’m not sure about that.”
Omega began to wear an amused smile. “You mean the kissing, and the ‘I love—.’”
“Shhh!” You held a finger to your lips and cut your gaze at the boys. They were still talking amongst themselves, completely unaware about whatever you and Omega were discussing. You narrowed your eyes at Omega. “How did you know that?”
Omega giggled and shrugged. “I guessed.” She snapped her fingers and pointed them at you like a blaster. “And I was right.”
You returned her smile, but only for a moment. It faded as your worries, and the overall heavy weight of the entire situation, settled over you once again. You closed your eyes and let out a long exhale. “It worked, Omega, but if I’m being honest?” You reopened your eyes to look at her. “I don’t know if I should’ve done it.”
Omega’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
You couldn’t meet her gaze as you instead studied the lines of Hunter’s face beside your own. He could always calm you down, even if he wasn’t awake to do it. “Because I don’t want him to think I didn’t mean it.”
Omega blinked once, then twice. She reached her hand over Hunter to quietly ask for yours. You accepted her small hand in your grasp, which left your entwined hands on Hunter’s armored thigh. Her stare never left yours as she went on. “Did you say it with your brain, Sunny,” she tapped the side of her head with her free hand, “or your heart?” She lowered her palm against her chest.
You took a gentle breath before answering. “My heart.”
Omega offered a small smile and a quick squeeze of her hand. “Then he’ll know the truth.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think he already knew.”
You narrowed your eyes at her again. “Why would you think that?”
Omega gave you a knowing look. “Everybody knows, Sunny.” She looked at the boys again, and your gaze followed hers. Their heads all whipped in different directions, as if they had just barely avoided being caught staring directly at you.
You huffed and shook your head. “Yeah, I guess it’s hard to hide feelings around here.”
“The mission was to bring him back, Sunny.” Omega’s voice was nothing but warmth as she went on. “And you did.” Her eyes welled with sudden emotion, but using her strength that had always amazed you, she kept it held back. “Thank you.”
You immediately softened, the strain of her voice pulling you full-force out of your self-pity as you instead opened yourself up to her. Omega stood just enough to move from Hunter’s side to yours, her arms wrapping tight around you. You held her back and leaned your head against hers, your eyes closing as you recognized this exact scene.
It was the perfect reversal of your journey to Kaller.
You and Omega stayed like that until the Marauder exited hyperspace. You were immediately shot with a new wave of adrenaline at the thought of having Hunter back so soon. Though he had physically been here, you all were painfully aware that it wasn't really him, not until that chip was out of his head. You were going to do everything you could to make sure that happened.
Once Tech had landed the ship as close to the Jedi cruiser as he could, you all geared up again and prepared for the trek. Wrecker yet again took care of Hunter, who was somehow still unconscious, as the rest of you led the way and made the path as easy for him as possible. An unsettling wave of déjà vu settled inside you, but you tapped into your buzzing adrenaline instead.
Tech stared at his datapad as he led the group inside the Jedi cruiser. Thankfully, you had already learned all its traps the last time, and Tech had—of course—made note of them. Since the others had still taken the time to remove their chips the last time you were here, Tech was also familiar with the process, too. Everything would be expedited.
Which meant you would be facing Hunter again, your Hunter, before you could really begin to process it. That excited you and scared you more than you thought possible.
As you arrived at the infirmary and Tech began to dial up the machine again, you began to run at least a thousand possibilities about what would happen the moment he woke in his right mind again. Rather than dwelling on yourself as you had for the majority of the trip here, you focused on Hunter alone. You had to have a plan for how you would help him through his own guilt of what he had done, because it would indubiously be there.
Wrecker set Hunter down and prepared him to be operated on. You steadied yourself with a breath and made your way over to his side. Gently, you lifted a hand to his bandana and slid it off, making room for the machine to do its work. As you brought your hand back towards yourself, you let your fingertips linger on the warmth of his skin along his defined and tattooed cheekbone.
After this moment, you would no longer have to see him as a stranger. Hopefully.
You held onto the bandana and looked at Tech, who was clearly waiting on you. You nodded. “Go ahead.”
Tech returned your nod and lowered his gaze to the controls. His fingers flew across them before the machine whirred to life and eased Hunter inside. You watched, your gaze glued to the sight, until Hunter’s body stopped again.
Tech spoke into the tense silence. “The process should only require a few standard minutes.” It was no doubt his attempt at reassurance, due to the fact you had all seen before how long this process took. “Though I am uncertain how long it will be before he wakes.”
Echo, who had his arms crossed Tech’s side, was the next to speak up. “Well, we’re not going anywhere until he does.”
You nodded before glancing over your shoulder at Wrecker and Omega. He had his hands on Omega’s shoulders as she stood in front of him and stared endlessly in Hunter’s direction.
You looked around and found one of the chairs you all had utilized the last time you were here, and you pulled it right up to Hunter’s side. Looking at Omega once again, you tapped the back of the chair, inviting her to sit in it. She smiled and stepped forward, letting Wrecker’s hands fall from her shoulders as she hopped onto it.
It was exactly where she had been for the others’ chip removals, and you wanted this one to feel just as normal for her—even if it was anything but.
Meanwhile, you and Wrecker both walked back towards Tech and Echo. Everyone remained quiet with anticipation, though the unspoken sentiment of hope shined brighter than the light that poured from the working machine. Hunter’s absence had been difficult on all of you, and at last, that trying time was coming to an end. In the waiting, all you could do was fumble with the material of his bandana in your hand.
Your heart leapt into your throat the moment the machine finished. Hunter’s body slowly slid back to where it had started, his expression displaying a different kind of serene than it had before, though that may have just been you fooling yourself. You stepped forward to slip his bandana back on, minding the bandage that had already attached itself to the side of his head. You knew he would want it back on when he woke.
But before you could even finish pulling your hands away, one of your wrists was suddenly grasped by a delicate touch. You let out a soft gasp and could only stand there, blinking in surprise with your jaw dropped, as Hunter’s dark eyes fluttered open.
Only they weren’t dark anymore. They were a sweet, golden brown again, sparkling more and more the longer he looked upon you.
Omega’s gasp at your side was much louder than yours had been. It drew you and Hunter apart as you both looked over at her, seeing the uncontainable joy and relief written all over her smiling face. “Hunter?” Her utterance of his name was strained with the same emotions you had seen on her expression.
Hunter chuckled, the sound breathy as he pushed himself to sit up. “Hey, kid.”
Omega couldn’t contain herself, and you couldn’t blame her. She all but leapt from the chair into his arms, holding onto him even more tightly than she had held you before. Hunter grunted in surprise, but the sound morphed into sweet laughter as he held her back. You pressed a hand against your warm chest and tried to take it all in.
The relief. The admiration. The overwhelming love…
Your eyes were watering before you could help it. All your fears from before returned and created a confusing mixture with the overjoyed emotions that had already been devouring you whole. You were drowning in a sea of dark devastation and breathless relief; he was right here, finally back to his true self, but you weren’t sure what he would think about how it had happened.
You stepped back, making room for Hunter to approach his brothers once he was done with Omega. But when Hunter patted her back to gently ease her away from him, he only had eyes for you, and they met your gaze with a stare so powerful that you truly did lose whatever air was left inside your lungs.
Hunter stood and closed the distance over to you. You were ready to fall into his arms the moment he opened them up to you, his gloved hand holding the back of your head and inviting you to bury yourself into him. You obliged, your soft cries muffled by his armor. He was holding you in a way he never had, certainly not in front of anyone else.
He waited, his other hand running over your back in soothing strokes, until you had mostly composed yourself. Only then did he ease his hand off your head and encourage you to look at him. 
You both said the same thing at the same time. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter furrowed his brow, his brown gaze studying yours as he lifted a hand to your cheek. “What are you apologizing for?”
You sniffed, your gaze falling to his chestplate as you gently pressed your hands upon it. Your voice was quiet and uncharacteristically timid as you spoke. “I shouldn’t have waited until then to say what I said.”
Hunter’s expression flashed with understanding, but you were surprised to see the corners of his mouth rising in a small smile. “You’re right.” His words made your heart drop until he caught it, using the same gentleness as the grasp he had taken on your chin to tilt your head back up at him. “You shouldn’t have had to wait, because I should have said it a long time ago.”
You blinked at him, your disbelief overwhelming every rational part of your mind. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
Hunter’s grin only widened as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. “We are.” He brought himself closer, the closest he had ever come to you with the others around, and whispered the words upon your lips. “I love you, too.”
Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t much, not with everyone’s attention on you, but it was just enough to prove that his words were anything but a simple reassurance to put you at ease. It was the wholehearted truth, one that was so easy to believe with him showing it to you by finally loving you out loud in the open for those he cared the most about to witness.
And your heart was a melted puddle in his hands, ready for him to do whatever he wished with it—because you knew it would be safe there.
When he pulled away, your gazes lingered the way you wished your lips could, the corners of your stinging mouth finally lifting the same way his had.
Unsurprisingly, it was Tech who broke the silence. “So that is the reason why your method would solely work on Hunter.”
You burst out into laughter, which only intensified as Hunter leveled his brother with a quizzical look. He wasn’t able to question it before Wrecker finally gave up on his restraint and practically barreled over to Hunter. “Welcome home, Sarge!” He cheered the words as he hugged Hunter tight enough to make him audibly gasp for air.
Hunter’s voice was a wheeze that he could only get out once Wrecker had set him down. “It’s good to be back.”
He maintained a warm smile as Echo and Tech approached him with warm handshakes and pats on the shoulder. Hunter’s expression, however, started to fall as his gaze did the very same.
“I’m sorry about everything that happened, and that you had to come after me like that.” His stare returned to you. “It was impossible to control, as much as I tried.”
Your hand mindlessly brushed over the scarred part of your shoulder. “We know.”
But that mindless action had accidentally drawn Hunter’s attention straight to the healed wound. He frowned as he walked back over to you, his gloved hand covering yours as he looked upon the scar. You couldn’t have written mortification more clearly over his face even if the word itself replaced the skull that was tattooed there.
“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft as you gently turned his cheek and set his stare back on your own. “Like you said, you couldn’t control it. I know that.” You nodded at the rest of the squad. “We all do.”
Hunter’s jaw circled. “Still.” His voice was much lower than before. You softened even more as you ran your thumb over his cheek. He took a deep breath and nodded at you. “I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”
You smiled at him. “You never even hurt me the first time.” Your gaze flickered over to the bandage that hid underneath his bandana. “That wasn’t you. I saw the blaster shaking. I know you were trying to fight it the best you could.”
Hunter closed his eyes in defeat, a heavy exhale falling from his lips. You leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek, which encouraged him to look up at you again. “I couldn’t fight it.” His face morphed into determination as he went on. “And I’m far from the only one who was affected by it.”
Hunter stepped back from you, inviting a patient Omega to his side as he did so. She was eager to take her place there, her arms wrapping around his waist as he set a gloved hand on her back. The sight alone warmed your body like the sunlight.
“Tech, I assume you’ve already found the most optimal route back here?”
Tech nodded. “That is precisely how I got us here this time around.”
Hunter returned his nod and set his shoulders. “Good, because we’re not done with this place yet.” He spoke with a decisiveness that made it clear he wouldn’t ever be moving on the matter. “It’s time to bring Crosshair home.”
You beamed at him, as did the rest of the squad. If you could find and bring back Hunter, then it was possible to do the same for Crosshair, too, no matter how long it had been. Hunter’s gaze found yours as he offered you a warm, loving smile that you had no choice but to return.
This time, you wouldn’t be doing it without him. He was back, as sure of himself as ever, and he wasn’t backing down on anything anymore—not on finding Crosshair, and certainly not on the way you two felt about each other. Those days of dancing around each other were over.
This nightmare would be hard to forget, but maybe it really did have a bright side after all, because it had set you inside a dream you never thought possible.
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main masterlist • hunter masterlist
hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020
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365granitegirlx · 3 days
Text
♡⟡˙⋆It takes us a little higher⋆˙⟡♡
Summary: You've never been fond of your roommate Vessel, but a mortifying shared experience brings you closer than you ever thought possible.
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a/n: MDNI - smut under the cut. Alternate, affectionate title is "Close the Fucking Door. Holy Shit."
roommate!vessel x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, some angst, porn with plot, accidental voyeurism, laundry day tension, vessel's favorite color seems to be emerald, reader and vessel are mean to each other, very brief slut shaming (the word "whore" is used twice derogatorily), “you’re the closest and hottest thing right now” type shit, rough sex but it’s comfort sex
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No, roommates don’t have to be friends. There is no bylaw saying if you share a dwelling and the bills therein you have to be the best of friends with your housemate…but if there was, you and Vessel would be faced with a hefty fine. Where you saw the opportunity to be lighthearted, he would claim you never took anything seriously; yet when he attempted to be playful with you, you accused him of mocking you. Is this brownstone in town worth the strife? Actually, yes. Everyone has their own comfortable spaces, it’s close to everyone’s workplace, the rent is reasonable. And yet. This afternoon you’re in the little laundry room sorting things to go into the washer when you hear the heaviest sigh. “Just going to start laundry, then? No worries if anyone else needs it.” Oh, he’s grumpy today.
Vessel has his barely filled laundry basket in his long arms and impatiently drums his fingers on it. 
“Doesn’t seem like you were going to ask me. Now does it?” You nod at his laundry basket as he stammers a bit. “Just put it in with mine.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Vessel, seriously,” you snap, “you have barely anything in there. We’d be wasting water if I didn’t…”
“This is how I always do my laundry! Saying I’m the reason the water bill i–”
“JUST… put your laundry in the washer. Jesus.”
Vessel huffs and drops his laundry in like you said (or as you demanded as he would have put it). You two can hardly look at each other. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as you thank him. He shows his gratitude by switching the laundry and then sorting it once it’s dry. He does this in the living room with an inconsequential movie on. You join him for what you call “a folding paaarrttyyyyy.” This actually gets a little laugh from him. Humorless laugh, but it’s a sign of life. 
It had been a month or so of just existing in the same space since an “incident” had occurred. Neither of you brought it up but it lingered heavily between you.
𓍯𓂃
The morning of the incident you two had a civil, even thoughtful, conversation. You told Ves you’d be out that evening, maybe even all night. This delighted him. He could do some audio mixing without fear of interruption. Spread out in the living room. Oh the possibilities! He even asked who the guy was. Anything to encourage you to leave him alone for the night. Get you talking and excited about whoever the hell this poor man is so that maybe you’d get yourself all giddy and blushy and convince yourself to stay out all night. You deserve it…no wait…no. Vessel deserved it. He had to keep reminding himself he didn’t actually care. 
Except he did. The evening was actually boring. You’d only been gone an hour, and he was already thinking about going to bed. He idly wondered what you and the guy were doing. That emerald green dress you had on made it seem like you were dead set on seducing on him. The way it hugged your hips and didn’t even graze your knees. How your sheer black stockings made your legs glimmer just a bit. Vessel came to the conclusion that you actually could seduce this man without even trying…you’d just have to show up. Fuck. These weird, clouded, thoughts that flirted with being both positive and lustful rubbed Vessel the wrong way. That’s his roommate he’s thinking about. Maybe he’s just lonely.
Yes, that’s it. He’s desperate. And that feeling churns and grows to the point where he can’t ignore it anymore. He’s home alone, after all. Why not make a little “to do” about it? He dimmed his lights and slipped out of his clothes, splaying out on his bed with a little bottle of lube close by. This was something he missed. Indulging in a little fantasy and playing with himself, all while not having to wonder if someone would hear him or walk in or just make some goddamn annoying noise that would distract him. All he could hear was his ragged, raspy breaths and soft moans…and the slick pornographic sounds of his fist pumping his cock. God it was so nice to just edge a little…he really did deserve this. He tries to think of something to calm him down and dull the feeling. Your most recent argument about where the reusable grocery bags were was very helpful in this instance…except for when he remembered your little dress. How soft you looked piled in the satin. What kind of panties did you have on under that? No panty line was visible so maybe…no don’t go there. But he has to. He has to imagine what it would be like to let his fingers trail up your inner thigh to then lift your dress and see those fucking tights hugging your plush ass and maybe even how your soft thighs would expand as you sit back on your heels, your pretty eyes gazing up at him…
“Oh…fuck!”
But it wasn’t Vessel exclaiming. Why were you home? “CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR. HOLY SHIT.”
You had scurried into your room. Your cheeks hurt from your nervous grin and the blush dusting your cheeks; you feel like a little girl running from her crush. But this wasn’t innocent. You had just watched your roommate cum. The little whimpers and groans piqued your attention the second you entered the hall. You actually thought he had been crying but…good god. If there had been tears, they’d have been ones of ecstasy. The look on his face…you’ll never forget that. The way his jaw fell and his eyebrows knitted together…how his bobbing throat signaled yet another desperate moan. You had left your date way early for…reasons you’d rather not think about at the moment. You had a new problem. The image of arrogant, quiet Vessel truly enjoying himself…looking absolutely delicious…vulnerable…that wasn't leaving your mind anytime soon. And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his abs flexed as he came…what would they feel like under your hand if you were riding him? Or against your own soft tummy while you’re on your back? Or even against your back as he spooned and fucked you while whispering filth in your ear. You stared up at the ceiling by the low light of your bedside lamp after taking care of yourself. The thrill from your momentary distraction from your bad date turns into guilt and settles in your tummy where your arousal once was.
Your mind won’t shut up. Berating you for being such a perv. And that’s when you hear Ves. Pacing. He does that sometimes. Of all the sounds you hear from sharing a wall with him, that’s the sound you’ve come to anticipate the most. How his mind reels at night. You start to ruminate, imagining that he regrets this. But it seems you finally have something in common tonight. You’re embarrassed. You’re awake. And you’re alone. Instead of nodding off, you take a chance. You reach up and knock softly on your shared wall. Just a little, “I’m right  there with you.” And as you drift off to sleep you hear two soft, timid knocks above your head.
𓍯𓂃
With the laundry folded in complete and utter silence, you sigh heavily and take your folded laundry into your room. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you grin at the text…completely ignoring the visitor in your doorway. You don’t even look up but you speak. “I’m going out tonight.”
“Oh? Uhm. Cool.” Vessel tries to act as if he isn’t the one encroaching on your space. Too aloof to care. He certainly wasn’t feeling touch and attention starved. Not at all. That had nothing to do with why he was standing in your doorway, watching you poke at your phone. “Another date?”
“Yep. Been too long since the last one.”
Ves looks at you thoughtfully and weighs his options. Does he risk perhaps having to talk about the “close the fucking door. Holy shit” incident? Or does he continue to push you away? Continue to make you the villain in his inner monologue? He takes a deep breath, holds it, and bites the bullet. “Why did you come home so early that night?”
A long sigh escapes you. “I…got to the restaurant and, well, basically he told me I looked easy and that he liked that. So the whole evening was just…” you pause and look away. 
“He didn’t try to…like…”
“No.” You don’t mean to snap, but you did. Vessel nods, nonplussed by your tone. “No, I didn't give him a chance. Turns out I’m a whore for dressing like that and for not putting out. Such is life, yeah?” 
“Waste of an outfit, if you ask me.” You stare at Vessel for a bit. He seems angry. Tense. His legs jitter a bit and he wipes his face with a long exhale. “You should be taken out in that dress whenever you want…wherever you want.” 
You go to your closet and pull out a few dresses like your emerald and hold them up to yourself in the mirror. “Well, he’s getting a second chance tonight.”
He scoffs and crosses his arms. His height allows him to take up most of your doorframe; he secretly hopes that might keep you from leaving. From seeing that degenerate. If you just wanted to get fucked he wishes you’d just ask him. But he has to remind himself that some people need a bit more than that. He wouldn’t know the first thing about what you needed. He pleaded with himself nightly to not worry about it. It won’t work. It shouldn’t work. But damnit…you’re right there. The single hottest and closest thing. Vessel doesn't realize he’s just been staring, shaking his head with disappointment.
“Care to share or are you just being weird?” You say without looking away from the mirror.
“Why are you putting yourself through this? Hm? Do you like being treated like that?”
He purses his lips when your eyes pierce through him, getting ready to strike. “Well, not that present company can understand this but people can change and redeem themselves. Besides, what do you care?”
You’ve got him. Vessel looks down, sniffs, and shrugs. “Maybe you are a whore.” He immediately winces. That was mean…and stupid. He pushes himself off the doorframe and sulks back to his room. But you’re on his heels.
“Tell me why you care, Vessel,” you demand to his back. He won’t turn and face you. “Fucking look at me.”
With a heavy sigh, he turns, shoulders slumped…and hard as a rock. His arousal can easily be attributed to the blood rush and emotions from being angry but truth be told it’s from imaging you in those dresses you were considering. And imagining you in that green dress, letting him take you out and then have his way with you.Your eyes are boring into him with a look he’s never seen before. “Want some help?” 
He nods softly. 
“Can I get verbal consent? Jesus Christ,” you huff. 
“Yeah…yes, I’d like help.” He watches as you slip off your hoodie and kneel like you’ve done this before with him. What a sight. 
“Take your shirt off, Ves. Please.” It all feels like a dream. Vessel is standing before you, rock hard and willing. Your hands rub up his thighs… to his hips…his abs…and he actually caresses your arms when they stretch up to gently play with his nipples. After moving your hands down to remove his pants, you place soft kisses on stomach and around his happy trail. Fuck. This is living. Your arms wrap around to his back as you hold him place, making him whine softly with each kiss. It’s impossible to keep from kissing and caressing your face right below his belly button. It’s unfair how good he feels against your lips and how lovely he smells from his body wash and just…him. As toned as he is, you find a soft spot and gently bite it. You look up expecting him to have his eyes closed but he’s actually staring down at you, biting his lip. It’s too much to bear. It feels like second nature to take his cock in your mouth. You’re lost in the feeling of taking him deeper until you gag softly. When you do, he caresses your hair, asking if you’re ok. His touch is so gentle, but you’re confused when he slowly pries you off his cock and stands you up. You’re about to take off your bralette when he shakes his head and tsks. 
“I need something to hold onto, don’t I?”
You’re unable to answer as he presses a hot, messy kiss against your mouth. He’s quite literally taking your breath away as he wraps his long arms around your body and his tongue prods at your lips. He needs to taste you. He meant to not just enjoy you…but to know you. To know how you like…no…how you need to be kissed. And where you like to be kissed. It’s not enough to kiss you where “everyone wants to be kissed” like your neck and collarbone…he needs to map it out. No one will ever know this body like he does. It’s like his brain has shut down. He doesn’t remember pushing you to the bed and  lowering himself to the floor on his knees as he took off your sweats and panties. But he’s fully lucid when he, without preamble, delicately presses his tongue against your heat for the first time. The sound that comes out of you…my god. He wonders to himself if you’d ever record yourself cumming for him or even let him make a little video sometime. Better yet…he’d just have you every night. 
But that takes time and that’s what he’s doing right now. His tongue is tracing slow circles around your clit as he commits this moment to memory. The feeling of your fingers playing with his hair excites him, makes him feel giddy. He moans softly against your little sweet as he brings it into his mouth. It becomes very clear after a while that he’s chasing your orgasms along with you. 
When he pulls away, he’s  all starry eyed and a little giggly. “Oh…you are divine. Can I do more?”
All you can let out is a pathetic whimper as you catch your breath. He looms over you, wiping you off his mouth. “Can I get your verbal consent, angel?” 
“Please. Yes…please…” you get out as your core aches to feel anything from him again. 
“Look at you. You’ve got a little pulse down there, good girl.” He lets his fingers trace your throbbing clit, but there’s no relief. You whine against his touch. “Made you feel good, huh? Tell me something…how badly do you want to get fucked?”
You whimper softly and roll over onto your tummy for him. No words from you are required when Vessel whispers soft encouragements and makes sure you’re comfy before teasing your cunt one last time with his fingers. “Just put it in, Ves, please.” 
Vessel gently pops your bralette strap against your back and chuckles at your impatience. “No warm up? I didn’t think you’d be this much fun.” Your front lifts from the bed as you moan into the bed, but Vessel smooths his hand down your back.“I know….I know. Just breathe, baby. Open your legs for me a bit more.” He runs his hands along your thighs and presses them into his bed. Like he said he would, he grasps the band of your bralette with one hand as he starts to fuck you. The stretch and feeling of him stroking you from the inside makes you cry out. You realize momentarily who’s fucking you…who’s making you cum. The forbidden idea that the energy between you two could spark both anger and the most palpable lust you’ve ever felt makes you press back against him harder. “Oh there she is,” Vessel grunts out as he lands a sharp spank on your ass. And another.
“Ffffuck. Ag…again. Please.”
“You like that?” Spank. “Such a sweetheart for me.” Spank. “You feel so fucking good…” 
Your head feels fuzzy as his hands melt into your soft skin and his moans become higher pitched. More desperate. He’s saying your name. He’s cumming for you. 
𓍯𓂃
You’re getting in late from a girls night out. It’s unsurprising that the house is dark, but you can hear whatever video game Vessel is playing…and sounding like he’s about to rage quit. His back is to you as he’s hunched over on the couch.
“Ves….” A beat. “VES! Turn that down…or off, preferably,” you huff.
“Tsk yes, mum,” he says smartly, turning the game off and tossing the controller. He wants to be grumpy…but there you were, settling in his lap…in that fucking…emerald…dress. He puts his forehead to your chest and presses sweet little kisses onto it. “Welcome home, angel.”  No, roommates don’t have to be friends.
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missadangel · 1 day
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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Reader)
All Chapters List
Chapter 4: The Desire (+18 MDNI-SMUT)
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"Ubi amor ibi fides."
Where there is love, there is faith.
“Tell me who you are,” Acacius waited for the answer to come from between your lips, his eyes lingering on the curve of them.
You knew it was time. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. 
“Marcus, I-”
He was taken aback at first, but he liked it when you called him by his first name. He kept questioning you, though, still waiting for an answer.
The door of the room was suddenly knocked on from outside. It was his squire. Acacius turned his head angrily.
"Don't disturb me!" he commanded.
"Sir, it's urgent!"
Acacius looked into your eyes for the last time, then withdrew his hands and turned towards the door.
"Come in!”
Acacius' squire Cato came in, looking very worried. 
"Sir, you've been summoned from Collis Palatium (Palatine Hill). It's an emergency." He was out of breath.
"Take it easy and let me know what's going on, Cato."
"They said, Emperor Geta has been poisoned, sir. The Empress wants to see you."
You covered your mouth in shock. After all, he was your half-brother. Acacius looked at you and then back at Cato. "Why is she calling me? I'm not a medicus."
"I'm not sure, sir, but I was told she wanted to speak to you. The guard with the horse said so. He's waiting for you outside to accompany you sir.”
Acacius nodded and let out a deep sigh. 
“Take me with you," you said suddenly.
He turned to you. "No, it might be too late by now."
"I can help him," you said loudly.
"Maybe you can't. I won't throw you into this recklessly,” he hissed.
"Are you going to let him die? It would be disastrous for Rome if he dies. He may not be the best ruler, but he's on the throne and an emperor in the end. I know he rules better than Caracalla. You know that too. You can't just leave Rome's fate in his hands."
Acacius put his hands on his waist, thinking, uncertain, but knowing you were right.
“I didn't know you were so interested in politics,” he teased, crossing his arms.
“I'm just observing things,” you shrugged. “Please let me come,” you said pleadingly.
His brow furrowed, and he raised his index finger as if in warning.
"You will stay in your cloak in the carriage and you will not show your face to anyone until I say so. If I need you, you will come when I tell you. Is that clear?"
You nodded. “Yes, sir.”
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The upper class Roman citizens settled on the Palatine Hill and built magnificent palaces. Emperors lived here in palaces called Domus. Caracalla and Geta did not get on well, but they both stayed in the same palace, The Domus Severiana. This imposing structure was located southeast of Capitoline Hill and the Colosseum.
The carriage arrived at the Palatine Hill in the twilight. You and the General barely spoke the whole way, both of you feeling tense in different ways. He was nervous because he had brought you with him, and you were worried that you would not be able to help Geta in time. You needed to know what kind of poisoning it was. You were almost an expert, but you weren't sure how well you could do without Vicius, your uncle. If you do something wrong and he dies, you could be in trouble. The General was aware of this, and it was worrying him.
Domus Severiana had no entrance from the street because it did not face the street. Security issues were undoubtedly the reason. In fact, all you could see were high walls, and not a single window facing the street. As the carriage stops, Acacius looked at you directly. "Put on your cloak and wait until Octavius arrives."
You nodded and did as he said, pulling your cloak over your head. 
"I'll check on the situation, and if there's nothing left to do by the time I leave, you must return to the villa. Do you understand?"
"Understood."
Acacius looked at you one last time before turning towards the giant door of the courtyard, concern on his face. "I hope," you murmured as you looked behind him. "I hope you don't die, brother. And I hope I can help you."
A moment later, you heard the sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground as it ran and you turned your head in that direction.  Octavius pulled the reins of his horse and stopped it right next to the chariot. He leapt down and regarded the scene with a keen eye.
"My Lady," he greeted, "I wonder if there might be any news?"
You shook your head. "The General is inside," you replied.
He nodded, "I'll see if he needs me," and went inside.
It was dark now, and you were eager to get moving. You were ready to get out of the cart and rush inside, but when you saw Octavius coming out of the courtyard, you decided to wait it out.
"The general said you should leave," he said quietly. From the look on his face, you could tell he didn't agree with him.
"Is it too late for him?” You swallowed hard.
“He said he doesn't look well. I think it's his last moments.”
You frowned at him. "I can save him, just like I saved the general. You know that, don't you?"
He gave you a look that seemed to say he was in agreement. But he was just following orders from his General. “Acacius ordered me to accompany you to the villa.”
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, stood up, and jumped out of the carriage. Octavius stopped you by extending his big arm out in front of you.
"The General's orders are clear, my lady."
 "I cannot let him die like this. If this gets out of Rome, Our enemies will undoubtedly spread the rumour that the Roman Emperor died of a simple poison and did not even have a skilled medicus to cure him. This would be an attack that could potentially weaken the Empire, and we can not allow that to happen.”
Octavius was too stunned by your words. 
‘My lady, you speak more wisely than the emperors, you are full of surprises indeed.’ He smiled.
First of all, as a medicus who saves lives, it never felt right to do nothing and let him die. You were determined to do it, even if he was not your brother, even if he was not the emperor. As a patient who needs help.
“I'll answer to the General,” you said to reassure Octavius. “But, sir, we don't have much time.” 
Octavius nodded, then inhaled deeply. “Even if you answer him, he'll punch me in the face for sure.”
You walked with him to the gate of the courtyard, he gestured to the guards waiting at the gate, one of the guards knocked the gate with fist without turning his body, squinting at you, and the large gold-embroidered gate swung open.  
The main courtyard was enormous. As you entered, you were greeted by a rectangular fountain with a motif of four peltas (shields used by the famous female Amazon warriors). The walls were decorated with frescoes, the courtyards and colonnaded porticoes were covered with elegant marble, and statues adorned the fountain and porticoes. Some of those statues were of family members. The biggest and most central one was of Septimius Severus himself, your father.
As you passed the statue, you took a quick look around, not knowing who it was, and made your way to the second courtyard. A large fountain and the same columns stood in this courtyard, but the marble was a different color. It was a truly beautiful sight. As soon as you crossed from this courtyard to the back courtyard, Acacius, who was talking to Julia Domna, noticed you and scowled. Julia Domna was looking sad, too. On the upper balcony, probably in the part of the emperor's chambers, you saw a lot of movement. Slaves were in a rush.
The Empress was clearly surprised, "That girl."
Acacius glanced at Octavius and his face clearly showed his growing tension. 
"If I can help, Your Highness," you said, bowing your head.
"How can you help? General, what does that mean?" she looked at him with a frown.
You answered before he could, the whole thing was so unnecessary, especially when time was so limited.
"I know I'm a woman and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm an experienced medicus. I'm here to save our emperor. Please allow me, highness.”
“Is that true, General?” She asked, her eyes on you.
Acacius squinted at you and then looked at at her and nodded. “She is the one who saved me highness, so, yes it is true.”
“But Medici has already said there is nothing more that can be done,” she said in a tearful voice.
"My Lady, we're wasting time here. Please take me to him and see what I can do to help.”
Julia nodded, looking very desperate.
“Well, he needs all the help he can get, you must be skilled to heal the General, but I trust him not you, not yet, don’t forget that.”
You noticed the General clench his jaw.
"Come with me now,” Julia gesturing with her hand.
While you were all going up the stairs, following her behind, Caracalla, who was leaning on the balustrade in front of Geta's room on the second floor, watching everything meanwhile.
“Lover, Slave, Medicus, so many things hiding under that beautiful face of yours,’ he said sarcastically. You nodded at him but didn’t like the smile on his face. There was no hint of sadness in his eyes. He seemed far from sad.
Julia stared at him with determination. "We'll do what we can, won't we? For your brother.”
“All the medici have already done enough, mother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Or don't you trust my own medicus?”
You wanted to slap him in the face as he was standing in the doorway stalling you. How could he talk so carelessly when every second was precious? He might not love his brother much, but his behaviour was leading you to suspect him and you hated it.
Julia gently touch his shoulder. “I trust him as much as I trust you, my handsome boy. You trust me, don't you?”
Whatever Caracalla sensed in her voice, he didn't like it, and his eyes sharpened. But he quickly recovered his expression and smiled. “Hurry, then,” he said, pointing with both arms to the door leading to Geta's room.
Julia looked at you, "Just you." You saw the General before entering the Geta’s room. He was visibly nervous.
You were certain he'd give you a scolding when you got back to the villa.
When Julia led you through the door, you saw the golden dressing screen first. Opposite, was a large table with kinds of fruits and flowers on it and two chairs. Just beyond, in the opposite corner of the large window, where the golden curtains hung, was a large bed, covered with a red veil so thin that you could see the emperor lying on his bed. 
An old man, who was undoubtedly the medicus Caracalla mentioned just ago, looked at you with curiosity.
“Your Highness,” he nodded, his eyes were on you.
“She will check our emperor,” she said firmly.
“But this is a girl and-“  
“I said, I want her to check my son’s condition.” Her voice was sharp.
“Yes, highness.” The man bowed his head and stepped aside, squinting at you, Julia crossed her arms and gestured at you. You turned your head to Geta, lying motionless on his bed, a thick satin sheet draped over him. He was wearing a red tunic with gold embroidery, he seemed delirious, his golden blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his skin was almost white, you quickly lifted the bedclothes, took his arm in your hands and examined it. It was swollen, red, his neck had the same symptoms, it was definitely plant poisoning.
“Hemlock?” You murmured.
The man opened his eyes wide. “But how-“
Julia was surprised too. “Yes, they said that. Now that you've realised that quickly, you can make an antidote, can't you?”
You put your hand on Geta's forehead and checked his body temperature. It was burning. "We need to lift the covers now," you said, and grabbed the covers with your hands, lifting them completely off him and pushing them to the other side of the bed.
“I asked you if you could make an antidote!”
You ignored her question and asked, "How long has he been like this? Has there been any vomiting? Was it something he ate or drank?"
She froze for a second, thinking quickly. "It was after dinner. He threw up a lot, yes, and then he fainted. He was delirious."
"That's good. The vomiting," you said, checking his neck and lips with your fingers. You parted Geta's lips, still and pale. There was a little bit of food in his mouth, on the edge of his tongue, and you put it in a clean cloth and put it aside. They didn't even make him drink some water? “He needs to drink water and-“
“But highness, he shouldn't be uncovered like this, he will get cold, we need to keep his body warm,” the other medicus interrupted you angrily. Julia frowned.
You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Sir, you obviously have knowledge, but I don't think you've ever dealt with hemlock poisoning before. His body is fighting with poison right now, so we need to lower his body temperature. In fact, we need to get as much fresh air in here as possible. Please be sure open all the windows and I need clean water and cloths.”
“You heard her!” Julia shouted at the emperor's slaves. Then she turned to the other medicus. 
“Is it true? That you've never encountered hemlock poisoning before and you've never treated it and you didn't tell me?” Her voice was so sharp and loud that he trembled with fear.
“You've been living in this palace as a medicus for years, maybe even longer than this girls age. But you can't do anything against this poison. Even this girl knows more than you. And you have the nerve to tell me that my son doesn't have much time left?”
“Your Majesty! I did not want to upset you-”
“Get out!” She barked.
Then she turned to you. “Antidote?”
“No, there is no antidote for hemlock,” you shook your head. “But I can get the poison out of his body in the most undamaged way possible.”
Julia was confused. “So you mean I can hope that, my son won't die?”
You smiled at her. “No, at least not tonight, highness. I ask you to trust me.”
She nodded, “Do whatever it takes to heal him,” her eyes filled with tears.
When the water and cloth you asked for arrived soon, you put them on the bedside table, dipped the cloth into it, squeezed it a little, put the cloths on his forehead and neck, and took your medical bottles out of your bag.
“What are you doing?” Julia asked curiously. 
“I'll have to make an herbal mixture to-.”
“Didn't a plant already poisoned him?”
“Yes, but to reduce and neutralize this poison… Can I use the kitchen? I'll need to examine the food he ate for dinner and the drink he drank.”
“All right, come with me.”
You left him alone on the bed and went out with Julia while the slaves opening all the windows one by one, as you'd asked. The General and Octavius were waiting just outside the door. Caracalla was the first to notice you. 
He approached you two, looking you over, and then turned to his mother. “Mother?"
"He'll be fine. Let's pray for him," she said, putting his arm around his son. Then she called to one of the slaves, "Take her to the kitchen," pointing at you. Acacius was looking at you, but Julia stepped between you. "General Acacius, I need you to do something for me. Come with me," she commanded. 
Reluctantly he had to go with her and he must be hated it.
You called Octavius over as you and the General were walking in different directions. The slaves went ahead and showed you the way to the kitchen.
"Sir, I need your help with something.”
“Of course, what is it?”
"I was going to ask you to help me in the kitchen. We need to be quick."
Octavius nodded. He trusts you.
"Do you know where the empress and the general have gone?"
"She trusts the General, so she is having him question those who cooked and served the emperor's food. But what I don't understand. Everyone must have eaten the same food, right? Why is only Emperor Geta poisoned?”
“Thats why we're here, to find out.”
There was no one in the kitchen because they had gathered all the cooks and other slaves in the other courtyard like he said. 
You asked one of the slaves to help you get the bowl Geta had eaten from and the others. He went to the dining hall and brought the bowls that the other medicus had examined. You took a piece from Geta's bowl and put it on another plate. 
You took a quick sniff, without bringing your nose too close. You knew that the smell of hemlock was very pungent, but this didn't smell like it. That was a bit unexpected. You put the remains from the corner of Geta's mouth on the other side of the plate and compared them. It was clear that he had eaten from this bowl. You quickly looked at the remains of the food in the bowls and cauldrons where the others had eaten. They were all the same and there was no sign of poison in any of them. 
"It wasn't what he ate," you murmured. "It's what he drank," your eyes locked onto the wine cups. 
Octavius and the other slaves looked at each other, watching you curious to see what you'd do next. You looked at the slaves as you compared the cups. "Can someone tell me which is the emperor's drinking cup? Has a new wine jar been opened recently?"
They exchanged glances and murmured.
"Does she mean the one that that slave just opened today?"
"Maybe."
“Explain please?" you asked.
“One of the slaves spilled the wine during the drinks service, the emperors got pretty mad and told him to bring a new one. He ran to the kitchen and came back with a new decanter.
"And he poured it into Emperor Geta's cup first, didn't he?" you asked. Everything seemed to be cleared up, although you still didn't know what exactly had poisoned him.
"Show us that decanter now!" Octavius barked.
The slave girl nodded and ran into the dining hall to do as he said. A moment later she came running back with the decanter, but you got angry when she spilled some on the floor.
"Be careful! It must be poisoned!”
You quickly poured the wine into a cup and took a sample. The smell was a bit unusual, but you were relieved when your nose recognized it, you encountered before, back Egypt.
"Amanita muscaria," you said quietly. "He mixed it in with his wine."
"What's that?" 
You glanced up at Octavius. "It's a poisonous mushroom, made into an herbal extract and mixed into his wine. It's not an easy process, and not everyone can do it.”
You remembered the medicus from earlier. But you had better things to do right now than to blame him. The next step is to remove the poison from Geta's body. To do that, you had to make a natural antibiotic. You got the ingredients out of your bag and started making it right away, but then you had a sudden realization: everyone who cooks and serves food is about to die.
“Sir, please inform the General, I don't think it's the other slaves or cooks’ fault.”
Octavius nodded and turned on his heel and rushed out. You were praying as you making the herbal concoction with the help of the slaves standing beside you. While not as potent as hemlock, mushroom poison was still quite deadly, especially when combined with alcohol. But fortunately, unlike it, it is possible to make an antidote.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally finished the concoction and headed for the courtyard to go upstairs in rush. The other slaves ran behind you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with you on the stairs. You went into the room, put the bowl on Geta's bedside, and leaned over to check on him. You had so much you wanted to say, so much that hurt, but as a medicus, you were used to focusing on doing your job properly.
All you could think about was getting him better as soon as possible. You gave him the herbal concoction to drink with his slaves help. His breathing was weak, but you made him drink it all. You bowed your head when Caracalla came into the room. He was angry.
"Did you ask them to interrogate my slave?"
That slave who served Geta belonged to him, no surprise.
"He was poisoned by what he drank, not what he ate, and that makes him the prime suspect."
"Are you accusing me, you whore? Who do you think you are?”
He barked quite loudly, and at that moment, as you looked into his eyes, which were glowing with anger, you knew for sure that he was responsible for this. You forced yourself to remain calm.
"Never, Your highness. I would never accuse you of something your slave did."
He came closer to you, his eyes filled with menace. "Once my brother's long gone, all your show of healing will be in vain, and you'll be the one who answer for it, I’ll make sure of that."
You want to blame everyone but yourself, you cunt, you thought as you looked into his eyes.
You were both startled by a sudden deep cough. When you turned to look at him, Geta was propped up on his elbow on the bed, staring at you. 
"Who dares to make so much noise at my bedside?"
"Highness!" You couldn't believe your eyes to see him awake.
Geta raised his eyebrows, squinting. "You? Am I dreaming? Must be seductive one,” he smirked.
“Brother!” Caracalla rushed to his side and leaned over the edge of the bed. He was certainly a very good actor, you had to hand it to him.
“What happened to me? What is she doing here?” Geta was looking at you with his pale but alive face. Seeing him like that a proud smile spread across your face.
“Don't you remember?” Caracalla asked curiously.
“I remember I threw up like damn fountain, after drinking the disgusting wine, and then it was a bit dark,” he murmured, pursing his lips.
“My son!”
Julia burst into the room. The slaves must have informed her immediately. With a gentle touch, she led Caracalla to sit on the edge of the bed and hugged Geta. Caracalla stood up and crossed his arms. 
As you looked at them from where you stood, you felt envious that his mother was alive so she could worry for him, hug him, kiss him. You never had that chance and never will. 
“You are indeed a good medicus, what will you become next, I wonder.” The implication in Caracalla's voice sent shivers down your spine, you could almost imagine what he would do when he found out the truth about you.
Julia stood up and came to you, and for the first time you saw sincerity in her eyes.
“You gave me back my son's life, how should I reward you?”
“I have only fulfilled my duty, Your Majesty.”
“How decent.” Caracalla muttered.
“My head is still spinning,” Geta gasped, lying back on the bed.
“You should get some more rest your highness, and keep drinking the concoction through the night,” you said as you looked at him.
Geta sniffed the concoction and a disgusted expression settled on his face. “This is the most disgusting shit I've ever smelled. What’s in it?”
Just as you were about to say, he silenced you by raising his hand. “Don't you dare tell me, I don't want to know.” Then covered his face with his arm and pointed at you with his other hand. “I am indebted to you. Provide her with whatever she desires, mother.”
"That is very kind of you, but my sole desire is to see you recover," you said sincerely.
Caracalla laughed out loud which made you startled, Julia rolled her eyes, Geta laughed too.
What was so funny?
Geta turned his head to you as he was lying on the bed. “I get better why the General is so fond of you.”
When you heard his name, you looked at the door, but he wasn't there. 
"Let's give highness some space to rest," Julia said, gesturing to the door.
Caracalla pursed his lips, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't happy at all. Julia took your arm, you were a little startled but you stayed still. "Are you sure you don't want anything? Everything has a price, and everyone has something they want in return."
You looked at her face as you walked down the hall together. "I just want good days for Rome, Your Highness. That's all I want.”
“It will be so, since you saved our emperor,” she smiled. 
You were beginning to warm to her, but something inside you kept telling you were putting yourself in danger. 
“I see you live with him as the General's medicus. Is it true you saved him in Egypt?”
You swallowed, but you had to tell the truth.
“Yes.”
“You lived there? He brought you here?”
You nodded.
“Do you have a name?”
“Highness!”
Macrinus came running down the hallway towards you. His eyes met yours, and you knew instantly that he carried a warning message. 
"I'm truly sorry for what happened. I came as soon as I heard. Could you please let me know how our emperor is doing now?”
"He's better now, thanks to this girl. It seems your and Caracalla's medicus wasn't as good as this girl."
Macrinus' expression made it clear he was not pleased. 
“Thankfully, he's alive. We should probably offer a sacrifice to the Gods.”
"I'll do that first thing tomorrow, but I'm not sure you're being completely sincere. You haven't called off the council meeting tomorrow, have you?"
"I would if it wasn't so important, but I thought Emperor Caracalla would lead it. He agreed."
From the way he looked at you, you knew immediately that the meeting was about you.
"If I could speak to His Majesty-"
"No, he will rest. Caracalla is also very tired, maybe you should come tomorrow. It has been a very hard night.”
"Have the perpetrators been punished? Who is responsible?" Macrinus was very curious, which made you also suspect him.
“The General is dealing with that,” she said with cruel smile.
You felt a pang of guilt for having forgotten him amidst the chaos.
"Your Highness, if I may, I would like to ensure that the General and I have completed our duties here.”
"I perceive that you are fatigued; they shall accompany you. You may leave.”
“Thank you.”
You nodded to them and hastened to the general, disregarding Macrinus' disapproving gaze. 
As you walked briskly towards the main courtyard, you thought it would be a good idea to get out of there with the general as soon as possible. You assumed he was upset that you hadn't listened to him. When you passed the tall pink marble column with gold inlay on the sides and came out into the main courtyard, you saw Octavius first. He was standing opposite the general and looking down at something. Then you saw the general himself, with his back to you. To see what he was looking at, you had to get past the stunted trees. Then, as you got closer, you noticed the strong smell of iron and then saw the sword in the general's hand. You were taken aback to realize that the smell was of blood dripping from his sword onto the ground. 
Then you saw people in slave clothes lying on the ground, including Caracalla's medicus. You were petrified. Julia and Caracalla must have had the General do their dirty work. When Octavius looked up at you, the General turned around and his eyes met yours. There was blood on his sandals, his leather armor, and his neck. His face was expressionless. When you saw him like that, you felt fear and horror. But when his expression changed and he looked sad, you threw all your fears aside and approached him. He pulled back and turned his head away. He wiped his sword on a rag Octavius handed him and sheathed it. 
"You saved him," he said, wiping the blood away from his leather armor.
"Yes, the empress said we could head out now,” your voice broke.
It wasn't just that they killed these people without a trial. They even had the General do this dirty job, and it made you angry. You forced yourself to ignore the people who were lying on the ground, lifeless.
You didn't like the way he avoided looking at you though, so you went over and took his hand, pulling him closer. "We're done here, General. Shall we go?" You touched his face with your hand and turned him towards you. His brown eyes shone like gems in the light of torches on the courtyard walls.
"Wait for me in the carriage. I'm not done yet,” he said coldly.
"I'll take care of it, sir," Octavius said, clearly worried about his friend. "Please go to your villa and rest." 
"You heard him. I want to go. I'm exhausted," you said, tugging on his arm, but he was like a statue and wouldn't budge.
Acacius turned his head to him.
Was he ignoring you?
“Thank you, my friend.”
But he must not have liked you tugging on his arm, so he grabbed your arm instead, you liked the way he touched you with a protective instinct. As you strode out of the courtyard, your gaze fixed on the general's face, you felt a sharp, piercing pain in your heart. You were not used to seeing him like this. You would have done anything to see him smile again.
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It was after midnight when the carriage arrived at the villa, there was no moonlight tonight, it was quite dark. The General was silent the whole time, he joined you in very short sentences when you told him what you had done to save Geta. It was hard to tell if it was because he was angry with you or because he had to kill those people against his will. He was a man of justice and honor, it must have been hard for him, and you felt very sorry for him. You checked his beautiful face as you entered the courtyard of the Villa, still looks upset, it was getting unbearable. Without thinking, you stepped in front of him and put one arm around his waist and one around his neck and embraced him. You could feel the surface of the leather armor under your skin as you pressed your cheek against his chest. 
“I'm sorry you had to do that.”
"I was on the verge of doing more,” he said in a sharp tone, almost as sharp as his sword.
You gazed up at his face to ascertain what he was talking about. In the gloom of the night, with only the light from the torch on the wall of the courtyard, the color of his eyes appeared to be very dark. “If you couldn't save him, she was ready to kill you. She was so mad and was willing to spill blood. I made my plan right in that moment. I was as ready as she was."
You swallowed hard, wondering if he was talking about a suicide plan.
“To her, you saved yourself by saving his son. That's it. She put Caracalla's medicus life on the line without a second thought. She could have done the same thing to you," he hissed.
You felt guilty when you sensed the tremor in his voice.
“I'm sorry, I disobeyed you.”
“You'd better be,” he muttered.
You took a step back and looked at him. Finally his expression had softened, and you felt a sense of relief.
“But you were going to kill the empress and the emperors just for a slave girl?” Raising your eyebrows curiously.
He smirked. “Wasn't it you who shout in my face that you were not a slave?”
You bit your lip and gave a shy smile. “I did. I’m sorry for that too.”
“And you still didn’t tell me who you are.”
“I will, but, with all due respect you haven't answered my question, General.”
He lowered his head and looked you in the eye. “Not just for a slave, I'd kill them all for you even if I don’t know who you are.”
He couldn't have been more seductive with that sharp tone, your heart began to race. But no matter how tempting it was that he was ready to kill anyone for you, you couldn't get out of your mind what Macrinus had said before. You couldn't bear to make the General look guilty when he knew nothing about it.
“Can I tell you tomorrow? I'm really tired. It's been a long day and night."
“It certainly was. Fair enough. Tomorrow then.”
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The next day, you woke up feeling so tired you didn't want to get out of bed. You had a lot of bad dreams about the General. You also thought about Caracalla's attitude, how ready he was to kill you, Julia's cruelty, and what she made the General do. It was all torturing you, and you didn't know how to deal with it. You were sure that even if Geta recovered thanks to you, he wouldn't support the General against Senate. There was nothing but tension between those two. Macrinus was so keen for you to introduce the congress tomorrow that he didn't even care that the emperor almost died. You knew that man's determination well enough. He wasn't going to back down from this, no matter what. He was only interested in power. He wasn't helping you because he cares about you. 
 He was using you as a pawn to achieve his goal. And you were aware of that. It's possible that everything he said about your father was untrue. Who knows what will happen to you when you show up in the council meeting. Or the general. You hated being in the middle of everything and didn't want to put the general in danger, so you felt your heart ache as you forced yourself to admit that the only thing to do was to leave. You wanted to go home, to your old land, where no one could reach you. If you could be invisible like before, maybe everything would be as it should be and the general wouldn't do anything to put himself in danger. It was a dumb idea, though. You weren't the type to run away. The emperors and their mothers had already seen you, and your absence when Macrinus convened the senate would have been an admission that you had run away. They would find you no matter where you went. There was no escape.
No, that's not an option. With so few options on the table, it was down to just one. However, there was something you wanted to do before telling him who you were. Now that you know for sure how you feel about him. As Aya, you wanted to do something as his slave. Yes, you were ready, maybe not physically yet, but you were absolutely sure as mentally.
A moment later the door opened and Norell walked in.
“Aya, are you okay? Master told me to check in on you.”
You sat up to look at her.
“I’m alright, nothing to worry about.”
“It's almost evening and you're still on the bed,” she complained.
Almost evening? Has it really been that long? Norell closed the door and came over.
“Or is it your moon? Do you want me to get you something warm?”
Fortunately, there were still a few days until then.
“No, I'm just a bit tired.”
“Yes, you came late last night, it was you who healed the emperor, but the master warned us to keep our mouths shut.”
“Well, I did what I could, yes. Is he all right?”
“The master? Yes, why?”
"Yesterday was a very tiring day for him and for me."
"He took his bath in the morning and then asked about you while he was eating, but he seemed fine."
Right, the bath.
"Shall we go to the bath today?" you asked her. You needed to take a bath before the night.
"Today? But I'm still bleeding, you know," she said, pursing her lips.
"Oh, right."
"But I don't think the master will mind you using the balneum," she said with a wink. "Is there any particular reason you wanted to take a bath today?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
When she saw you blush, a wide smile spread across her face. 
"Ah, so tonight's the night?" She clapped her hands gleefully. 
"Shhh, be quiet."
"No wonder you've been so pensive all morning."
You let out a deep sigh. She was right; you had definitely thought about it too, a lot. 
"But you haven't eaten anything yet. Why not come with me and eat something in the kitchen?" "Then I'll help you take a bath.”
"I'm fortunate to have you," you said, smiling, hugging her, looking at her reddish-orange hair, which represented ginger, thinking about what would happen after you revealed yourself. You didn't want to lose her friendship.
As you were leaving the room, you were pretty surprised to see the General right outside the door. Was he about to knock?
“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
Norell bowed her head and walked away to leave you two alone, giggling meanwhile.
You ignored her and eyed him up and down. He was wearing a white tunic with gold leaf embroidery on the hems, a brown belt with embroidery of the same colour and pattern, and a red shawl over it, as if representing Mars himself, which was stunningly attractive. You tried to stay calm, but it was hard.
“I'm alright, well, I guess I'm still tired from yesterday.”
"I see. It must have been quite tiring for you. I didn't get a chance to ask you much yesterday because I was angry with you, but now I understand better how hard it was for you," he said in a soft, velvety tone.
He looked better than yesterday, the anger and sadness in his eyes were gone, and seeing him like this filled you with joy. It was so hard to wait till night.
"But you promised for today," he said, his voice gentle but insistent.
"Yes, if it's not too much to ask, could I come to your room tonight?”
Acacius' brown eyes met yours, first with a hint of surprise, then with a growing sense of excitement. 
"You picked the perfect time to talk," he said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks flush, and at that moment, you felt a strange moisture between your legs. It was a new feeling for you, a combination of lust and desire. It was wonderful, full of life.
"I have to go for a while, but I'll be back tonight."
"May I ask where you're going?"
His smile faded but his expression was soft. “I need to see how the emperor, Geta, is doing. Other members of the senate are going to visit today. Sort of like a visit to see if he's still alive, I suppose.”
"Oh, I see. One more thing, I was wondering if I could use the balneum. Norell said she couldn't come to the baths and I didn't want to go by myself."
"Don't go," he said abruptly. "To the baths. I mean, never. The balneum is yours.”
“Thank you,” you said with a shy smile.
He took your hand and kissed the top of it.
"Enjoy your bath, wait for my return at night," he said almost commandingly, looking under his eyebrows.
He touched your cheek, where it was blushing, and gave you a gentle stroke. Then he walked out of the courtyard. Even though you felt a little abandoned by his leaving, you were pretty excited because you knew he was coming back, so now was the perfect time for a bath. 
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Norell accompanied you to the balneum, where you had a long chat. Thanks to her and the hot water, you were almost relaxed, and now you had only one thing on your mind. After getting dressed in your room, you combed your hair and applied rose essence with your finger tips on your neck and hair. It was your favorite, helps you to stay calm, and it smells so nice. 
It was almost night time but the General still hadn't returned, he had been gone a long time and you were getting worried. It was like bedtime for Norell and the other slaves. Cato, the General's squire, was waiting for his arrival in the courtyard. The water flowing from the fountain provided a soothing backdrop to the night, accompanied by the sounds of crickets. While you were playing with the water from the fountain, the black cat you had named Mau suddenly appeared and crossed between your feet, brushing its tail against your skin. She's been away for a while, and you missed her much. 
You picked her up, thinking it would be a good idea to play with her for a while, but she quickly got out of your arms and jumped down. She went to the west side of the courtyard, where the General's chamber was, and meowed at you. It looked like she wanted to show you something. You were curious, so you went over to her. She meowed and ran past the door and into the garden where you first officially met the general. It was hard to keep up with her speed, but you rushed to open the door and enter the garden. She was licking the remains of food on the ground. She probably stole something from the kitchen and brought it here, but she must have still been hungry. Tullia usually shooed her off, so she probably came straight to you. You felt sorry for her, so you went to the kitchen to get her something. 
You opened the door slowly and sneaked in. The kitchen was pretty tidy. You opened one of the food bowls, added some food, and closed the door. She started to meow louder and louder as she caught the scent.
“Sshh, you'll get us both caught,” you whispered.
You went back to the General's garden, afraid that Tullia would find a bowl on the floor in the morning and get angry. Mau ate all the food happily with a purr that made you smile. Once she was done, she licked herself clean with her paw and curled up next to you, ready to fall into a peaceful sleep. Unlike her, you were not so sleepy, you lay down on the grass to watch the stars, twinkle like jewels in the dark sky. It was mesmerizing.
"I hope you don't find yourself falling asleep there again."
You were startled by his voice. When did he arrive? You sat up and looked around. It was hard to see in the dark, so you looked up towards his balcony and noticed him. He was standing with his arms leaning on the balustrade, watching you from above. He had a wonderful smile on his face.
You stood up, quickly brushed your dress and hair with your hands and headed for the stairs. As you took each step, you felt your excitement and nervousness growing. When you got to the last step and were on the same level as him, he took his hands off the balustrade and looked at you.
You smiled when you realized from that distance that he was just as excited as you were. In the darkness of the night, in his white tunic, he shone like the stars in the sky, as if he had just descended to earth through them. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you, never breaking eye contact. He closed the gap between you slowly, and you saw his dark brown eyes in a way you had never seen them before. They were dark but sparkling, full of desire, an open invitation to you that you couldn't refuse.
You stood there for a while, just speaking with your eyes. At first, you weren't sure how or what to do. You didn't know how to kiss. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you were eager to learn and you really wanted to touch his lips.
You reach up and pull his face closer to yours. You closed your eyes and tried to make your clumsy lips work, hoping that your kiss would be seen as acceptable. You brushed your lips against his and kissed his lower lip. Then you pulled back and looked at his face to see how he reacted. A gentle breeze came from his nose and between his lips, hitting your face.
Was he laughing? You probably looked a bit silly because it was your first kiss. You felt a bit embarrassed.
“My apologies, I've never kissed anyone before,” you murmured.
“Then you'll have to learn,” he said softly. “Allow me to teach you.”
He puts his hand under your chin to make you look up before kissing you. Then pressed his lips against yours with all the passion he has. And Gods! He was a very passionate man. You're so shocked that your first impulse is to reject him. But your slight push on his muscular shoulders doesn’t do anything to stop him. If anything, his kiss gains intensity.
He ventures a hand to your waist pulling you closer. When he started to lightly touch your lips with his tongue you parted your lips and let his tongue touch yours, not hurried but restrained. His tongue tasted like sweet wine, the sweet smell of his skin took your breath away, your blood raced, boiled under his lips. The way his mouth explores yours, the way he keeps rubbing his body against yours, all tells you to surrender to him. Instinctively you raised your arms to wrap them around his thick neck and tangled your fingers in his curly partially gray hair.
He broke the kiss and smirked. You were out of breath and surprised to find yourself in this situation. "You can stop me by saying no," he murmured while rubbing your earlobe with his nose. He pulled his head back gently, his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for your approval. You could see the passion in them.
“I’m afraid that,” he placing his hand on your chin and stroking with his thumb, “if we go any further, I may not be able to stop myself, and you should know, there's no turning back.”
The thought of it almost broke your heart, you wanted him more than anything, you were almost ready to beg him to kiss you again.
"Are you really certain about this?"
You were certain, and you wanted to throw yourself into his arms.
"I am, sir... Marcus." You took his other hand and placed it on your waist as if it belonged there. "I want to be yours.”
His face lit up with a gorgeous, radiant smile. Piercing you with his brown eyes, his huge hands land delicately on your hip and the contact is so intimate that you have to remember how to breathe. His low, deep voice sounds confident. “You have no idea how long I waited for you to say that.”
And before you can even react, he kisses you, but not as gently as before, much more eager, much more passionate. You completely given yourself to him with each deep, passionate kiss. 
His long, thick fingers traced a path from your neck to the hollow of your back, then to the knot of the thin belt you had tied around your waist. You gasped as he quickly undid it, and you found yourself in his arms.
He lifted you so easily in his strong muscular arms, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest when the air hit your face as he carried you to his room. He set you down, near to his bed, you didn't break eye contact as he slowly undresses you, you were sure your cheeks were redder than ever. The dress falls to the floor and gathers around your feet. He pulls your hair aside to expose your neck and collarbone. The atmosphere in the room changes, and you realize your body is shaking. He must have noticed it too because the tenderness in his eyes turns into something else. 
“You have a rare beauty,” he whispers, stroking your collarbone with his fingers, ”Your skin is like a pearl hidden in an oyster shell for me to open.”
When you averted your eyes from him, he cupped your chin in his hand and turned it toward him.  He scooped you up and lays you gently on the bed. The feel of the soft fabric against your skin is pleasant, but nothing compared to the sight of him standing over you and running his eyes up and down your body. At first you squirm shyly under his piercing gaze, his eyes screaming at you: You are so beautiful. I want you. This not only relaxes you, but also makes your body squirm with anticipation. Hot desire.
Your eyes widened when he took off his tunic, you had noticed how gorgeous his body was while he was bathing, but now it was even more impressive. A strong masculine chest, a muscular stomach and a perfect v line. The scars he has add to his rough beauty, perfect.
Marcus unhurriedly puts his knee on the bed and crawls over your body until he's standing over you. You weren't sure if he was trying to gauge your reaction or trying not to startle you with a sudden movement. He brought his face close to yours and began to run his lips along your neck and ear, his fingers caressing your shoulder to your collarbone, and then your arm. 
“Don't be nervous, try to relax,” he whispered in your ear, and when his warm breath hit your face you were getting impatient. He was being too kind and you were grateful for that, but you wanted to be his, you wanted to know what it felt like.
Then he uses his weight to pin you to the bed. The feeling of bare skin against bare skin is incredible. You start rubbing your body against his, savoring the friction. The contact of his body against yours makes you shiver. It feels thrilling. Arousing.
His mouth eagerly finds yours and turns into an all-consuming kiss. Warm, eager lips slide down from your chin to your collarbone and down between your breasts, sucking your sensitive skin in their path. You've always tried to imagine what men's lips would feel like on your skin, but nothing could prepare you for this overwhelming wave of sensations. It feels better than you think. Your back arches and you find yourself wanting more, more of his hand, more of his eager mouth. He stops and stares at you as he hovers over your breasts. You squirm in impatient anticipation. What is he going to do?
He runs his nose and mouth around your breasts, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. Marcus blows lightly on one nipple before bringing it to his hot mouth. He sucks gently at first, making you tingle all over. When his mouth presses on your nipple with long, deep, almost wild sucking movements, the sensation is almost unbearable. You moaned, writhing with pleasure beneath him, his mouth slides down to your stomach, torturing its way south until it reaches your ankles. Then he slowly slides up your leg until he's licking your inner thigh. 
He keeps your body arched as his lips repeat the sensual orbit up and down your other leg. He lifts your leg and pulls you down a little to better position it, puts it on his shoulder. You love that he is so strong and uses his strength to move your body. He runs his warm tongue alternately over both your thighs and slowly approaches the top of your thighs. 
He uses his strong hands to spread your legs, leaving your most sensitive area ready and well exposed to his tongue. A sudden flush of embarrassment makes you raise your arm to shield your eyes as he takes a good look at your most intimate parts. Marcus grasps your arm, pulling it back. "Don’t be embarrassed,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”
He hums into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he’s getting pleasure from driving you crazy with his mouth.
He kisses the area softly; he flips his tongue and sucks you sensitive lips gently. Relentlessly.
And his tongue finds your most sensitive spot. You gasp, writhe with pleasure as your legs stiffen. You cry out, exchanging your fluttering, flaming tongue for hungry lips. This pleasure is more than you can take. Your muscles tense, your toes curl. You didn't want it to stop, but it was becoming too much. Your insides begin to tremble. Finally he increases the pressure of his suction on your clit. Pleasure, scorching, pure, exquisite pleasure, overwhelms you and you explode. You try to muffle the vocal expressions of your pleasure by biting your lower lip, but he parted your lips with the tip of his finger.
 “Let me hear you,” he says as he gently kisses your lips and chin.
Still on his knees, he takes you in his big arms and embraces you. He kisses you sweetly as you slowly begin to descend from Elysium.
He murmurs satisfyingly. “It’ll be less painful now that you’re so ready for me.” He places soft kisses on your shoulders. “Do you want me to continue?”
You pressed your forehead to his muscular chest and nodded.
He gently lays you on the bed once more, you look at his erection nervously. Like the rest of his body, it is large, hard, and beautiful.
He leans to kiss you and you forget that you're nervous. In a swift move, he puts his hands on your knees, bending them, spreading them apart gently.
“Look at me.”
 You obey. The look on his face is hungry, almost predatory, as he settles between your legs.
You gasp when you feel your Marcus -your General- slowly rubbing against your folds. Coating the tip of his erection in your wetness. You squirm under his torture.
Still keeping your knees spread apart, he bends his body to kiss your mouth. “Even with your incredibly wet response, this will hurt. Tell me when it becomes too much.”
You feel him at your entrance for what feels like an eternity, enjoying the feeling of his erection rubbing your most sensitive spots.
“Surrender,” he commands while gently kissing your face, sensually sliding his hands all over your legs. “Relax.”
You take deep breaths in and out as he kisses first your mouth, then your nipples. He pushes the thick first inch of himself against your tight virgin walls and opens you up. You moan at this foreign sensation and open your eyes wide.
You don't want to say out loud that you don't want him to go deeper, but he reads your body, stops moving and focuses on satisfying the rest of your body while half buried inside you.
His hands have never been as hot on your skin as they are now. He leaves traces on your upper body and makes your body writhe in pleasure. He worships you. He stretches you. He moves slowly, constantly pausing to let your body adjust to him. You breathe sharply, your eyes locked. Your fingernails dig into his back as he starts to penetrate further into you, the pain ripping through your body as you spread to swallow his erection.
Marcus speaks into your neck, his warm breath tingling your skin. “Don't be tense,” he commands in a deep, husky voice that melts you with desire. “Relax, Aya.” He soothes your pain with a long kiss and you open your eyes and feel yourself relax. You love to see him taking your virginity, his beautiful eyes closed on the side of your neck, your body lying vulnerable beneath him. 
When he finally enters you, he lifts his head and looks you up and down, running his hands through your golden hair and looking into your eyes. His pupils dilate. There is a mixture of triumph and tenderness in his eyes.
“You look gorgeous sprawled beneath me.” His breathing is ragged. 
You stay like that for a long time, looking into each other's eyes. Despite the discomfort, you have never felt so close to him and you feel your love for him growing. Similar feelings seem to be burning inside him. The way he is looking at you right now is a combination of admiration, love and lust. You wouldn't change this moment for anything. 
When he feels you are ready, Marcus slowly pulls back, allowing you both to enjoy the painful, exquisite friction. He pushes forward again and you scream at the top of your lungs. The pain is back and you can't decide if this is more pleasure or more pain. All you know is that you don't want him to stop.
A wild growl rises from deep in your throat as he pulls back once more. He groans and slowly thrusts again. And again. Each time in a slow, sensual rhythm. Each time less disturbing and more delicious.
He seems to control himself not to speed up. But it certainly was, Marcus could feel the beast inside him, the beast that was screaming to be released, next time, he thought, not now. His hands leave your knees and grasp your head and kisses you.
It's all too much. The tenderness. The feeling of fullness, the searing warmth of your bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The thought that even though he's taking his time with you, he's still hard enough to make you feel like you're his. Beads of sweat cover his handsome face. His wheezing breaths on your neck tells you it won't last long.
Your walls are closing more tightly around him now. You feel him trembling. You feel him being released, calling out to you, emptying herself. His sounds of pleasure are music to your ears.
Marcus stays inside you for a while, breathing hard against the side of your neck. You feel his smile on your skin.
When he finally pulls away, it hurts. Both physically and emotionally. You already miss the warm connection between your bodies. He kisses you again and pulls you against his chest.
This whole experience was incredible and unlike anything you have ever experienced before. Every touch, every sound, you felt his love spreading through your whole body, mind and soul. Even after you left, you will always remember him as the man who made this moment so special. And you feel so grateful for that. You adore him right now and you know that you would do anything for him.
And you will for sure. You will do your best to avoid any misunderstanding or damage to his reputation. At that moment you made a firm decision.
You were sure he wouldn't like it, would even be angry, but you had to do it anyway. Your eyelids felt heavy as you felt the warm breeze from the balcony against your skin, Marcus must have fallen asleep too, lying motionless with his muscular arms around you. You fell into a sweet sleep as you pressed your ear against his chest to listen his heartbeat. 
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When you woke up you felt a pressure between your legs, right in the center of your womanhood. Also feeling sore, heavy, and groggy. But you tried to move, even though it was difficult. It was still dark outside, you didn't know how long you had slept, but now you had to get up and move to do the other thing you had wanted to do for so long. But Marcus' thick arms were wrapped around you like a cage. Slowly you raised his arm and tried to slip away. He moved a little but didn't open his eyes, he was still asleep, thankfully.
As you got out of bed you felt wetness between your legs and turned around to look at the sheets. They were quite wet, and a red liquid had spread like spilled wine. You felt the blood boiling under your cheeks. You pressed the part of the sheet between your legs, but was that all? All those fears were for this? A triumphant smile spread across your face. You were sure to feel different now, like you were reborn. After all, from tomorrow there would be no more Aya. You picked up your dress from the floor, quickly put it on and went to the General's wooden chest, the letter was still there. Careful not to make a sound, you pushed aside the blank papers and other papyrus and reached for it. As you held it in your hands and looked at it, then you looked over at Marcus, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed. You wished you could give it to him yourself and have him open it in front of you, but you couldn't be sure of his reaction. You stood up and approached the bed, leaned over and put the letter on the dry side of the sheet so he would see it when he woke up. 
“Forgive me, Marcus,” you whispered. 
But you felt you had to do it, to go to your brother Geta before the day of the meeting and tell him everything, yes it sounded stupid, but you were leaving the letter in good hands, the General’s. And that was your assurance.
For some reason you trusted Geta more in Macrinus. Maybe if you tell him about Macrinus' plans he would be on your side, but it was just a hope, a desperate hope. You didn't want to put Marcus in that kind of danger, knowing that he would be there to defend you and oppose them. Maybe he wouldn't, but no matter what, you were going to go first instead of facing them at the council meeting, yes, that was your final decision. 
After lingering on Marcus' face and beautiful body with your eyes for the last time, you left the room. Your chest tightened with pain, it hurt more than between your legs. 
Love is not the solution to everything. But by accepting love and fighting for it, you gave yourself a reason to hope. Leaving him as Aya to meet him again with your new name and your new self. Septimia Aurelia.
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Hope you guys enjoyed with horny moments lol
thank you everyone for all likes and comments <3
@myownwholewildworld @orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover
if anyone wants me to tag them please comment :) thank you all <3
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joelsgoldrush · 2 days
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wip wednesday: "epiphany" (worst!logan x fem!reader)
third time lucky because i posted this twice with different passages and none of them seemed to satisfy the overachieving monster i am 👹 but let's forget that detail.
this fic is making me crazy... in a good way. i'm enjoying the whole process even though imposter syndrome's hitting harder than ever </3
thank you @moonlight-prose for tagging me 🫂💗
also tysm to @lubdubology because she’s an amazing beta (sorry for tagging you again and again 😭 don’t mind me)
He thought that not seeing you for a week would snuff out his feelings. That by next Wednesday, every thought tied to your name, every urge to uncover the last of your secrets, would be extinguished. That's what time usually did: it diminished dangerous desires that couldn't afford to be voiced, and buried those longings that had no place in the light of day. Logan now figures he’s been underestimating the spell you cast on him with just a few glances and the intensity of your eyes. He’s seen you animated, angry—both defiant and vulnerable. Each of your gestures feels like a memory he can’t quite place. The way you laugh, the right corner of your mouth lifting just slightly higher than the left—he swears it isn’t the first time he's seen a smile brighter than the sun. Still, he convinces himself it’s all in his head. He must be the one losing his mind, the years finally catching up to him. It’s the only reasonable explanation for the thoughts that consume his every waking moment. He’s wrong—you’re right. He’s seeing things where there are none—you’re simply too kind. Too kind. Too young. Too damn clever for your own good, with your books and that sharp mind of yours. He wonders how you see yourself. Do you like the reflection in the mirror? Are you content with the way your life has turned out? Do you, too, lie awake at night, the bed stretching endlessly, aching for a touch that never comes? The walls in this place are paper-thin. When darkness falls, and the moon rises, the big, scary Wolverine can’t close his eyes.  Instead, he listens.  You play the same movie on repeat—a romantic comedy that lasts exactly one hundred and twenty minutes. For two hours straight, he’s privy to your laughter, your commentary at the characters on the screen. He hears you cry when the lead couple drifts apart after a terrible argument, but they always find their way back to each other, and you watch every second until the credits roll. None of the other films you pick ever ends in heartbreak, he realizes. They all have happy endings—the kind you wish for yourself.
no pressure tags: @zloshy @princessanglophile @hauntedhowlett @wlwloverwrites + whoever wants to post sth they´ve written
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sykoangels · 23 hours
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Please Please Please
pairing: gender neutral!reader x satoru!gojo
content warning: angst!! slightly toxic relationship (mentions of satosugu)
author note: Please please please don't prove I'm right
part one!
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Dating Satoru Gojo was always an exhilarating adventure. His charismatic personality, quick wit, and unpredictable nature made every moment with him unforgettable. His charm, coupled with his striking looks, created a magnetic allure that was impossible to resist. He possessed the typical imperfections of a human being, but something was unsettling about his specific flaws. The biggest one that you noticed is that he’s in love with his ex, Suguru Geto.
A few weeks ago, everything changed when he unexpectedly encountered his ex at a local coffee shop. As they engaged in conversation, Gojo's gaze towards his ex, Geto, seemed strikingly reminiscent of thows used to look at you, but with an added intensity and fervor. It was as if he had found a new lease on life, s if the world had suddenly become more vibrant and alive while he was gazing at Geto. Initially, you didn't pay much attention to it ,thinking it was just Gojo being his usual charming self. However, as time passed, you started noticing more peculiar occurrences, leading you to the realization that you will never be the one Gojo sees when he kisses you or engages in any romantic behavior—he only sees Geto.
You had grown increasingly distant from him. No matter how hard he tried to initiate intimacy or plan a special date night, you always seemed to have an excuse ready. Whether it was claiming to be not in the mood or using your workload as a sorcerer as a reason, you were just finding ways to avoid spending time with him. Deep down, you were tired of constantly feeling like you were playing second fiddle to his ex, who always seemed to be his number one priority. This feeling of being sidelined was something you couldn't stand.
As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, you heard Gojo's footsteps approaching. Your heart raced, not with excitement but with dread. You closed your eyes, feigning sleep, as he entered the room. "Hey," he whispered, his voice gentle. "Are you awake?" You remained still, your breathing measured. You felt the bed dip as he sat beside you, his hand hovering over your shoulder before retreating. "I know you're not asleep," he said softly. "We need to talk." Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, meeting his piercing blue gaze. Even now, his beauty took your breath away, but it was tainted by the knowledge that his heart belonged to another. "What is it?" you asked, your voice hoarse.
Gojo sighed, running a hand through his wild white hair. He took a deep breath before finally speaking, "I know things have been off between us lately. And I also know that you're avoiding me. I just want to understand why." You sat up, facing him with a neutral expression. "You know why," you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. Gojo's frown deepened. "I don't understand. Is it something I did? Did I say something wrong?" "It's not about what you did or didn't do, Gojo," you said, feeling the anger bubbling inside you now. "It's about what you still do." He looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on his face. "You mean Geto?" he asked quietly.
You nodded, unable to meet his gaze anymore as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "Every time I look at you, all I see is the way you look at him," you whispered. Gojo reached out to touch your cheek, but you flinched away from him. "Please don't," you said softly. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "But please believe me when I say that Geto and I are over. He's just someone from my past." "Then why do you still look at him like he's the only person in the world?" you asked, your voice breaking.
Gojo sighed again, looking defeated. "I can't explain it," he said honestly. "It's like a part of me will always love him, no matter what happens between us." "But where does that leave me?" you asked, feeling the pain and insecurity consuming you. He reached out for your hand this time and gently took it in his own. "With me," he said firmly. "I may still have lingering feelings for Geto, but my heart belongs to you now."
You couldn't believe the words coming out of Gojo's mouth. It just sounded like pure bullshit to you. How could he claim to love you while still harboring feelings for someone else? It didn't make sense. "Gojo, I don't think I can do this," you said, pulling your hand away from his grasp. He looked at you with sad eyes. "Please, just give me a chance to prove it to you," he pleaded. But you shook your head, unable to trust his words anymore. "I'm sorry, Gojo. But I need some time to sort through my feelings," you said firmly before standing up and leaving the room.
The next few days were filled with tension and awkwardness between you and Gojo. You tried your best to avoid him, but it was impossible since he was your classmate and colleague. During missions, he would constantly try to talk to you and make things right, but you kept your distance. The thought of being with someone who couldn't fully commit to you made your heartache. One day, as the two of you were on a mission together, things took a turn for the worse. You were ambushed by cursed spirits and separated from the rest of your team. You fought fiercely against them, but there were too many. Just when you thought all hope was lost, Gojo appeared in front of you, using his domain expansion to protect both of you from the attacks.
Once the cursed spirits were defeated and the dust settled down, Gojo turned towards you with a worried expression. "Are you okay?" he asked, scanning your body for any injuries. "I'm fine," you replied coldly before turning away from him. “Why don’t you go protect Geto and make sure he’s doing alright because you only think about him?” you said bitterly.
Gojo's expression changed from concern to hurt as he heard your words. "Y/N, please don't say that. You know I care about you," he said desperately. You smiled at his words. "If you truly cared about me, you wouldn't have feelings for someone else. I can't be with someone who only thinks about their ex." He looked at you with a mix of sadness and frustration. "It's not that simple, Y/N," he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Then make it simple, Gojo. Choose between me and Geto," you said firmly.
He sighed and looked down at the ground before meeting your gaze again. "I can't just stop having feelings for someone overnight," he admitted. You felt tears prickling in your eyes as all your pent-up emotions came rushing out. "Then I guess we're over," you said, trying to hold back the tears. Gojo's eyes widened in shock and pain. "No, please don't say that," he pleaded, reaching out to touch your arm.
You shove him away before walking back into the school to gather your items. "Please prove me wrong, Gojo.. because you constantly keep fucking embarrassing me," you said with a dark glance and sadness in your voice.
Gojo sighed, watching you walk away, feeling his heart sink, knowing he had lost someone great to him
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matrixbearer2024 · 1 day
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Just something I'd like to say about the Stan twins among other things I've seen here on tumblr and everywhere else. Also because I'm genuinely confused why this is even a thing. I don't really see the point in why people have to look at characters and say: good/bad, nuances exist and morality is mostly grey haha.
One of the reasons why I chose to write for Ford isn't really because I don't think he's a bad person, au contraire I know he's done really shitty things but I don't think he's bad. That would be an oversimplification.
If I had to be completely open about it, his situation is actually pretty similar to mine aside from the fact his sibling is a twin. My brother is two years younger than me.
But still, shit happens. Cornered by everyone and everything, one is labeled as gifted and special while the other is seen as stupid and useless, then the split between family and aspiration.
Granted, I've never made a deal with a demonic piece of geometry and I've gone through a different set of circumstances in a completely different time frame– but still. I get where his arrogance comes from and I get how being outcasted can make you prone to doing a lot of shitty things to chase validation.
God forbid someone comes to you and strokes your ego to death, that's the easiest way to manipulate someone with the picture of self-confidence and it's made of glass.
I can't say that what happened to me was a fortunate occurrence, but I was severely humbled at a young age and it's probably why I turned out differently. Ford never really did, he clung onto the idea of being special and being a coveted rarity.
Point is, I can kind of see where he's coming from and a lot of his fights with Stan I also kind of understand. I'm not condoning his actions, especially because I've had legendary fights with my brother before and remembering them all makes me feel like shit because there are things I've done I can never bring myself to forgive– but it's why I can understand why shit unfolded the way it did.
I'm not even going to go into grudges because I've held a grudge over someone for 12 years so I can also get why Ford would end up doing that for fucking 30– but yeah. I don't think either twin is really right or wrong. Stan got dealt a bad hand like my brother, and Ford got shoved into the limelight like me. I can understand the both of them well.
Also to those who wonder why Stan would even forgive Ford, I don't know what else to say other than it might be a sibling thing. I used to fight with my brother simply because he'd excel better in some of the things I do. I'd purposefully work harder to overshadow him and he knew. He would let me succeed and even rub it in his face because he saw that it made me happy.
Even after all this time he doesn't hold it against me so that's something I'm eternally grateful for. But yeah, he cared that much when all I did was be selfish. I still think it depends on some siblings but yeah, for these two they hit close to home just for doing what they do.
Not to mention, my brother's also had his moments where it looks like he's destroyed my things/projects on the sole reason that he thinks it's taking me away from him. That it's taking his best friend away from him.
One of those times was when I was creating a painting for a competition years ago, he got mad I spent so much time on it and accidentally knocked over the water container and it spilled all over my work. The painting was effectively ruined and I blew up at him for it.
Sound familiar?
Where Stan played off his destruction, my brother kept apologizing and owning up to his fuck-up. Where Ford refused to listen, I eventually just compromised with my brother and told him to help me create the new painting.
That painting didn't win any prizes but still ended up being exhibited, I'd show a picture of it with my brother and I next to it if I didn't like keeping my irl family private online.
Ford also being kind of unable to move on/deal with himself is something I do to detriment. It takes a lot to deal with that, much more overcome it.
Things change, time passes, circumstances shift. But yeah, this is just my two cents on it and kind of a window to why I also write Ford and Stan the way I do.
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hypnoneghoul · 2 days
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The Ashes Call My Name
WC: 5k
Relationship: Rain/Everyone (Rain/Dewdrop, Rain/Mountain)
Tags: Ehlers-Danlos Rain, POTS Rain, Mobility Aids, Anxiety, Self-Esteem Issues, References to Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Implied Anger Issues
He has been ignoring things for far too long and he can’t do that anymore. Or. Rain gets mobility aids and has a lot of thoughts and feelings about that.
Notes: Commission for @everybodyshusband :3
Read under the cut or on AO3.
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The box is ridiculously huge.
Couldn’t they have…folded them? Or get a box that is not going to be more than half empty? It’s a whole business, is it not? Can’t they get custom size boxes for their products?
Rain is stalling; thinking about everything and anything except what actually is inside said box. Besides the air and foil. He does not want to think about it, he just wants to ignore it all.
But he can not.
He has been ignoring things for far too long and he can’t do that anymore.
He can do it—he tries to tell himself—but these simple things seem so big and so scary to him right now; and he’s not even regressed.
Rain’s pack knew this was not going to be easy for him and they all offered their support—whatever he might need. The water ghoul shut the door, though, wanting space, and now he is all alone with the monster that his new mobility aids are.
Two pairs of crutches—one full size in classic black and one small version for when he’s small; these are a glittery purple. Apart from that there is also a simple foldable cane in there—also black. Aether, Swiss and Dewdrop decided he needed to have options; they were the ones to place the order. Zephyr and Omega have also been consulted so that Rain would get what is best.
And now the best is here and Rain is a fucking cunt.
After a while he growls at himself in his mind and with his jaw clenched pulls the mobility aids out of the box. One by one he unwraps all the foil from around them and removes the additional protection before finally being able to take a look at them. 
They are not ugly, his pack did good in case of picking the style—they know Rain better than he knows himself. But it’s not about that.
It’s about what they mean, how they are going to become a big part of his everyday life. Well, how they are supposed to become a big part of his everyday life.
Rain is scared—he has been since his initial diagnosis; just a few months after he has been summoned. He thought it was normal to be in pain Topside, but after a heart-to-heart with Aether he found out it is very much not. The other quintessence ghoul—Omega—examined him and explained that sometimes summonings go wrong and the ghoul comes out…well, wrong. In Rain’s case his body is a little loose where it’s not supposed to be and that leads to him having a plethora of issues.
He thought he had accepted his fate long ago—after a lot of mental breakdowns—but now when it has become so bad he is all but being forced to use mobility aids, he realizes he has not truly accepted anything about it.
He's a ghoul, for Satan's sake—an immortal demon. How and why is he broken?
Logically he knows the…science behind it, but he has never managed to find an answer to ‘why’? Why him?
Of course, if Rain was presented with a choice of transferring his pain to someone else he would never do so. Being essentially stuck in one's own body—something that is supposed to be theirs only to have control over—and being forced to have one's life restricted just for that reason is…well, awful.
Rain is mean quite often, but he would never even joke about that.
He doesn't even have the energy to be mean now. Not to himself, not to the mobility aids, not his to his pack and not to the entire fucking world. The water ghoul is just tired and it is hard for him to see a point in trying harder.
Even if…try harder to do what? Omega told him there is nothing to be done for him. He is only going to be getting worse year by year. The pain is never going to go away.
Rain does not remember what it means to be pain-free, anymore.
What did it come to?
Maybe Rain should just go back to the Pit—beg to be sent back. It would fix him, issues like his do not exist down there. It’s not like he is very useful Topside, and he will only be becoming more of a burden.
The water ghoul wonders if his pack would understand if he made that choice. If his wish would even have a chance of being granted, or if he would have to take the matters into his own hands.
Traumatizing his family is not his goal, though, so he would rather not have to.
It's hours after the water ghoul has opened the package when he finally decides to try his new mobility aids out.
He gets up and kicks some thrash under his bed and desk to make a path to walk through. He goes for the cane first and it's not long before Rain can’t hold back his tears. He can’t even walk with it properly—at least he thinks so—it doesn’t feel right. It feels wrong.
His eyes sting to a point of pain, but he realizes he doesn’t care. No one is there to witness the pathetic image of him like this, anyway. The water ghoul lets the tears flow as he clumsily walks around his room, trying to think positively, trying to look for some benefits of this situation.
Rain finds none, there is no relief as he uses the cane. His cane.
But he carries on for a while longer—until the tears dry on his cheeks and more does not follow, until his entire body is sore from walking and crying and all the stress.
He tries the crutches, too, for a short moment, but they are even more overwhelming.
Rain goes to bed early, after throwing the damned things under his bed with as much force as he could muster up—hoping they would break. He knows it wouldn’t change much; the pack would get him another pair, not minding the money. Rain can’t do that to them, though, they do not get paid enough for that. 
He grabs his phone for his usual pre-sleep doom scrolling. He finds a few messages from the pack, but doesn’t cheer much when he sees that it is even more motivational TikTok videos about how mobility aids are exactly that—aids—and they should not be seen as a burden, but rather a tool to help one live their life more fully. Logically, Rain knows that is true and he is all in for people using mobility aids of all kind, but…well, people. Humans.
Not a ghoul.
Not him.
He turns his phone off after a few minutes and wraps himself up in his comforter—he has to change the position after a moment, though, because his bent elbows start to hurt. He closes his eyes and wishes to wake up in a better world, where all this is nothing more than a cruel dream.
Rain wakes up in pain. Of course he does—that is not new.
What is new is the pain in his hands, though. When he wakes up enough to think clearly, he realizes the cause and gets even more angry about the whole thing.
Weren’t mobility aids supposed to be helpful? How is trading the pain in his legs for the pain in his arms fair? As a bassist he needs his arms painless even more than his legs, does he not?
He makes his way down to the common room just for a second—to grab a quick snack that could count for breakfast and then return to his room to wallow in his misery. 
The next time Rain leaves it it is for dinner that he spends half-dissociated. He does not remember moving to the couch, but he finds himself curled up in its corner, wrapped in a big crocheted blanket made by Cumulus.
„What’s got you so lost in thought, fish boy?” Dewdrop’s voice snaps Rain out of it. He didn’t even notice him coming over and the fire ghoul is already sitting comfortably on the couch next to him.
“Huh? Oh–uh, nothing important,” Rain replies, shrugging and starting to worry his bottom lip between his fangs. “What’s up with you?”
Dewdrop does not answer him, not right away; he stares deep into the other’s eyes without blinking for a few moments. His own amber ones are piercing and Rain finds himself desperate for an escape, but there is none—not from Dewdrop.
“Are you alright?” the fire ghoul finally asks.
And despite wanting to say ‘yes’ so badly, Rain can not lie so outwardly. Not to him. “Yes? No? I don’t know?”
The fire ghoul hums in acknowledgement and without a word stands up. Rain watches with furrowed brows as Dewdrop disappears into the kitchen. He comes out a moment later with a literal armful of snacks and drinks—despite having eaten dinner less than half an hour ago—making Rain chuckle at how comical the image is.
“Droplet, what are you doing?” he asks.
“We are watching a movie,” Dewdrop informs him before dropping his cargo onto the couch next to Rain. He grabs the TV remote next and one more fluffy blanket out of their blanket basket before flopping down by his mate himself.
The water ghoul, of course, does not protest when Dewdrop shuffles in as close to him as possible and curls up against his chest—all warm and purring. It’s extremely cozy and Rain is so grateful for Dewdrop’s method of comforting his mates. He is not great when it comes to talking about one’s feelings, but he sure does know how to distract and cheer someone up.
“What do you want to watch?” he asks and Rain could just about melt over his voice vibrating as he does not pause his purring.
“Uhm…something funny. Like–I want my stomach to hurt from laughing, you know?”
“I’ve got just the thing.” Dewdrop grins and pokes out his tongue as he looks for the movie and then puts it on. For a while Rain stares only at him, ignoring the TV, and all the thoughts from earlier come back, nagging at him.
Dewdrop is so good to him, always taking care of him so well, but it’s just…unfair. Rain should take care of him, too, but he does not and he is only going to become more needy and less able to return the favor.
Surely, the fire ghoul will grow tired of him and turn to someone else, to someone who can give him what he needs whenever he needs it, not only when they are feeling good.
He can’t even–how would he even carry his own bass if he has to walk with the crutches? They will make him even more useless than he is now, he can endure the pain if it makes him less of a burden.
Rain is sick of himself.
Dewdrop shaking against him makes the water ghoul’s head snap in his direction; afraid that he has unknowingly—somehow—made his mate cry. Thankfully he’s only laughing and Rain fakes his own so it’s not so obvious he was zoned out again.
He takes a few deep breaths and focuses on Dewdrop’s warmth, the vibration of his purr, and the movie. It actually is hilarious, the fire ghoul made a great choice. He grabs Rain hand at some point and does not let it go until the movie ends, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the water ghoul’s pale skin.
When the first movie ends and more than a half of their snacks are devoured, Dewdrop puts on another one before Rain could protest. He wasn’t going to, either way, though.
The fire ghoul does not speak much as they watch, but when the second movie ends and he is about to put on the third, he turns to Rain. He gets real close and kisses him between the horns, then on the tip of his nose, and then on the lips, before whispering straight into his mouth, “You know I would go around the whole world carrying you on my back if that would be your wish?”
It punches the air out of Rain’s lungs a little and he feels the need to say it would never happen, that he would not ever demand anything as insane of his mate, that Dewdrop can not actually mean it, but—but the fire burning in his eyes is so bright and pure, Rain can do nothing else but nod in acknowledgement.
“I love you, too, but–" Rain sighs, “what if it’s going to get so much worse and–and I’ll become fully dependent on you, I–I couldn’t ever put that on you…”
“Hey, you’re not ‘putting anything on me’,” Dewdrop says, making air quotes as he does. “You’re my mate and I love you and you can’t get rid of me now even if you tried. I’m not going anywhere, whatever happens. I thought I made that clear years ago.”
“You did,” Rain chuckles sadly. The reassurance is nice, but…the fear of making his mate end up miserable and unfulfilled because of some stupid promise he made a long time ago will not go away anytime soon. “Thank you.”
“I enjoy taking care of you, Rainy,” Dewdrop kisses him once again, holding the water ghoul’s face between his hands like the most precious thing. “I don’t mind  if that’s the only thing I get to do for the rest of my life. No matter what, the only thing I need to be the happiest ghoul ever is you by my side, alright? No matter if you can or can’t walk.”
Rain is the one to pull his mate into another kiss, closing his eyes and the distance between them before Dewdrop can see the tears in his eyes. He knows, though—of course he does—and he understands. When they pull away the fire ghoul immediately turns away to snuggle back into Rain’s chest and starts their third movie of the evening. Rain sniffles for a while over his head and is grateful to be ignored. The stupid comedy Dewdrop picked makes him genuinely laugh soon enough.
He does not know at which point he fell asleep, but he wakes up still on the common room couch with their last movie paused at the end. Dewdrop is glued to him, half purring, half snoring.
Rain smiles as his chest warms at the adorable sight of his mate. He adjusts his position before taking one of Dewdrop’s hands into his own and closing his eyes to go back to sleep.
The next time Rain wakes up he is alone, but there is a note next to him. The fire ghoul left to start his chores early—he always does that to have the second half of the day to himself and his pack.
The water ghoul gets himself up and into the kitchen first. He grabs a light breakfast and only then goes back to his room to get ready for his own chores—which are not very urgent or even important.
As he is about to leave his mood sours. His mobility aids are set by the door and all but mocking him.
Rain decides to take half a step towards him winning.
He takes the crutches with him, but only into his hand. He can carry them around most of the day and maybe try to actually use them when his legs get tired.
It’s not a bad plan and he is not even overthinking for the first few hours; it starts only when Rain’s hips start acting up.
An hour more and the water ghoul decides he is done for the day and—and to walk back to the den on the crutches. It’s not going terribly—he is walking with his jaw clenched, trying to focus—but it is not going great, either. He keeps stumbling and tripping and losing the rhythm. His arms start to hurt, too.
The stairs turn out to be his demise, though.
It’s just a few steps—barely a staircase, but it wins that fight.
Rain stumbles on the second step and one of the crutches slips off the edge of it and before he even realizes what is happening he is on the floor with one of his legs bent all weird. It doesn’t hurt that much, but all the frustration and embarrassment and everything about this damn situation makes him want to just cry.
So that is exactly what he does, he starts to cry right there on the bottom of the stairs like a child throwing a tantrum for attention. There is no one there, though, and that makes the water ghoul feel even worse.
He feels his mind slipping and there is nothing he can—or wants—to do about it.
...
(the next part is about rain age regressing. if you want to read this fic properly and are okay with reading agere, head over here and then come back here to continue)
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Swiss followed through on his promise of asking Zephyr to help Rain. The water ghoul is really anxious about the confrontation, for some reason—but also he has been anxious all the time for the last few days, so he should not be surprised. Zephyr told him to come down to the older ghoul’s den; when he does, they are already waiting for him. They eye Rain when they notice he is just carrying his crutches instead of using them to get there.
“Let’s see what you’ve got first,” the air ghoul tells Rain after brief greetings. They are not using their wheelchair now, as they do most of the time—they have their crutches, too.
Rain grits his teeth and takes a few steps forward with the crutches, randomly picking a gait. Not that he knows much about them. Zephyr tuts right away, though, and the water ghoul turns to them with a questioning look.
“They’re too high for you, first of all,” they explain, “your arms and shoulders are going to give you hell later.”
“Well, that makes sense,” Rain mumbles under his breath; not for the other to hear. He returns to the air ghoul and they take the crutches from him to adjust them.
“The handle should be at your wrist when you’re standing relaxed,” Zephyr says and the water ghoul takes a mental note to adjust his cane and the small pair later, too. He takes the crutches back and tests the new height out and—surely—they do feel more comfortable already. “Alright, now, try to walk with them as if you have two canes.”
Rain obliges, putting one foot and the opposite crutch in front of the other and going forward. It still does not feel right, but he definitely has more control over them now. It’s closer to having just…super long arms now.
“Good,” Zephyr praises with a nod. “Yeah, like that.”
A grunt slips from Rain’s mouth before he can stop it. He feels stupid—he is not a fucking child, he can walk, it doesn’t–
“Put some more weight on them,” the air ghoul adds and Rain tries to focus on his breathing and walking instead of the irrational rage building inside him. “Slower with the crutches, I know it’s an instinct to wave your arms faster but you’ll lose the pace like that.”
“Uh-huh,” the water ghoul replies and hates the fact that Zephyr’s tips work. Maybe he should not have come. If he can’t walk on crutches properly they will cause more harm than good and then he can’t be made to use them daily.
But alas, he came. He even knows why, too.
Rain came because deep down he knows it is the right choice.
He only wishes the rest of his brain would get the memo because it is, frankly, annoying to be so conflicted over something so basic all the time.
Zephyr gives the water ghoul so many tips as their lesson goes on that Rain’s afraid that he has already forgotten half of them. If he was not so prideful he would ask the other to write them down for him, but, well…he is prideful.
At some point the air ghoul tells Rain it’s enough for one day and that both his upper body and mind have to get used to the mobility aids. The water ghoul is grateful for the understanding coming from someone who can relate quite literally. 
Zephyr notices the wet glint in Rain’s eyes and the tension in his expression. They know it too well themself. They come up to the water ghoul to offer a half-hug.
“Sorry, I–nevermind,” Rain mutters.
“It’s alright, I know it’s a lot to handle,” Zephyr says. “Especially at first and especially being a ghoul and everything. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“How do you…deal with it?” the other asks in a quiet voice.
“Well, uh, it didn’t come to me easy,” Zephyr chuckles. “I’d even say I was more stubborn about using mobility aids than you, but without them I was miserable most of the time. Now I only see them as something helpful, you know?”
The water ghoul nods in acknowledgment. He wishes his brain weren't so stubborn.
“It would be great just being alright and not having to rely on things like these,” Zephyr sighs, waving one crutch in the air, “but believe me that the sooner your mindset about mobility aids changes the sooner you’ll find peace.”
Rain finds no answer to that. He nods before turning away and he hopes the other understands. The water ghoul squeezes his eyes against the sting of tears and tries to drill Zephyr’s words into his mind, tries to worm them in between the folds of his brain and make it just listen. It does not—not really, not right away—and so Rain lets the tears of overwhelm flow down his cheeks.
He doesn’t notice Mountain standing by their den’s door and watching him with furrowed brows. Rain gets startled when he speaks, “Are you alright, petal?”
“Oh, shit, Mounty, you scared me,” he huffs, faking a laugh to cover up the wetness in his voice. “Yeah, I’m good. Just getting back from…a lesson with Zephyr.
Mountain does not budge, though—standing strong in Rain’s way, with his arms folded across his chest. “Are you sure?”
Rain nods, but if the earth ghoul will not let him go soon, he will break.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but just…” Mountain sighs. “Rain, do you want a hug?”
And his tone makes the water ghoul break.
He nods as his bottom lip starts to wobble and Mountain wastes no more time before embracing his packmate. Rain just flops face first into the other’s chest and he chuckles sadly, patting him on the back. They stand like that for a little while, neither saying a word until Rain asks to spend the night with Mountain.
He agrees, of course, and picks the exhausted and overwhelmed ghoul up bridal style to carry him to bed. 
“Do you want someone to join us?” the earth ghoul asks and Rain shakes his head.
“Just you,” he mutters. A few more tears fall before he is snuggled all cozy in Mountain’s huge nest. He joins the water ghoul after a quick shower and Rain melts against his warm chest. He’s asleep in a flash.
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A few weeks after Dewdrop’s proclamations and Rain and Zephyr’s heart-to-heart the water ghoul is already quite handy with the crutches. He is using them more than his cane because most of the time both his legs need support, not only one. The cane is now reserved for short outings when he’s feeling confident in his legs. 
There are still bumps in the road—Rain feeling awful mentally and refusing to touch his mobility aids, insisting that he is fine and does not need them. There are moments he falls back into his old mindset of  ‘this is good, but not for me’—his pack always supports him, then, in whatever way he might need it.
So what it took the water ghoul months to get used to mobility aids, to accept needing them, to start seeing them as helpful? Everything is a process and he is lucky to have had his pack’s support all the way, and still have it whenever he is feeling down.
Living with a chronic condition that influences every aspect of Rain’s life is not something he ever dreamed of—obviously—and he would not wish it upon anyone. He is never going to be happy about being disabled, but—in hindsight—he is happy he was pressured into getting mobility aids when he did.
While he thought his life would become limited once he starts relying on aids, it’s the opposite—it has become fuller, because he does not waste as much energy on things as simple as walking anymore; his crutches take that on. His hands might hurt after longer use, but his arms and shoulders have only gotten stronger, and his posture has improved—a side effect Rain had not expected.
Most of all, he is still treated like normal.
That was one of Rain’s biggest fears—that once he grabs a mobility aid he will become less in the eyes of his pack, the Clergy, the Siblings. He could not have been more wrong.
He still is, and always will be just their water ghoul, just their bassist.
He is just Rain.
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