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gyuuberryy · 5 months ago

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ni-ki's guide to survival: how getting lost led to love

pairing: enemy!niki x reader

synopsis: you would’ve never agreed to go on this camping trip with your friends if you had known you would get paired up with your arch nemesis. and getting lost on top of that? with the said bane of your existence? that was definitely not on your agenda.

genre: enemies to lovers, camping au, humour, comfort, little bit of angst

warnings: mentions of panic attack, bugs, kissing

note: they’re all college students btw! i had a really bad riki brainrot and i love e2l so this fic was birthed hehe

word count: 5.3k

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the campfire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around it. laughter danced in the air, punctuated by the occasional chirp of a cricket.

everyone except you and the boy sprawled on a log opposite you, a scowl permanently etched on his face. nishimura ni-ki.

camping trips with your friends were supposed to be fun, a chance to unwind, but with your nemesis by your side, it felt more like a forced march into enemy territory.

the animosity has started innocently enough. you and ni-ki, along with your friends, had embarked on a beach trip determined to build the most epic sandcastle the world had ever seen. hours were poured into sculpting elaborate moats, towering turrets, and intricate sand sculptures. victory was within reach, your masterpiece nearing completion, when disaster struck. a rogue wave, rolled in, obliterating your creation in a single, foamy swipe.

grief turned to rage, and you, fueled by a sugar crash from a previously consumed ice cream cone, pointed the finger of blame at ni-ki. you claimed he'd jinxed the project with his "terrible sandcastle feng shui." ni-ki, ever the provocateur, countered that your "overly ambitious moat design" was structurally unsound. the blame game escalated, escalating into a full-blown sand throwing fight that left everyone covered in a gritty mix of sand and saltwater.

two years later, the incident remained a running joke within your friend group. the mere mention of "sandcastle feng shui" could send you both into a fit of giggles (or, depending on the day, simmering resentment which happened to be today).

a mischievous grin spread across sunoo's face, the self-proclaimed "king of fun." "alright everyone, time for the foraging challenge!" he announced, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "i've paired you all up to go gather ingredients for our stew!"

a collective groan arose, except from sunoo and heeseung, who were already whispering excitedly about wild herbs. the paper crackled in sunoo's hands as he unfolded it dramatically.

you perked up, eager to escape the suffocating tension between you and ni-ki. maybe a solo scavenging mission wouldn't be so bad. but as sunoo started assigning pairs, your stomach lurched.

"since we have an even number, the last team will be..." sunoo scanned the group, his eyes landing on you and ni-ki. a mischievous glint sparked in them. "...together."

a collective gasp arose from your friends, a mix of amusement and pity for your predicament. ni-ki, however, didn't miss a beat. he shot you a smug smirk, his eyes gleaming with a challenge.

"great," you muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "just what i always wanted, a foraging partner with the survival instincts of a goldfish."

ni-ki scoffed. "says the one who gets lost in a grocery store."

memories of that disastrous shopping trip with your mom flooded your mind. you gritted your teeth.

"at least i won't accidentally set the forest on fire trying to light a campfire," you retorted, referencing a camping trip gone slightly wrong from a year back.

ni-ki's smirk faltered for a split second, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features before returning full force. "unlike you, i actually know how to tell an edible plant from a poisonous one."

"oh please, spare me the mr. nature act," you shot back, standing up and grabbing your backpack. "let's just get this over with. before you scare away all the edible plants with your bad attitude."

ni-ki rose from his log with a mocking bow. "after you, princess."

you rolled your eyes, the familiar bickering a bitter comfort in this unwelcome alliance. as you walked past your friends, you heard sunghoon mutter under his breath, "may the odds be ever in your favour." you shot him a glare, wishing for nothing more than to prove him wrong.

the forest stretched out before you, promising a foraging adventure filled with snarky remarks, petty competition, and maybe, just maybe, a grudging respect for your unlikely partner.

the trail wound deeper into the woods, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. the air grew thick with unspoken words, the silence punctuated only by the crunch of twigs underfoot and the occasional chirp of a bird.

"shouldn't you be skipping ahead, searching for your precious berries?" you finally snapped, unable to bear the awkward tension any longer.

"only if you promise not to poison yourself with the first wild mushroom you find, pipsqueak," ni-ki retorted, a playful glint in his eyes.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "at least i can tell the difference between food and foliage."

just then, you skidded to a halt, hand flying up to point. "look!"

ni-ki nearly bumped into you, surprised by your sudden stop. he followed your gaze and spotted a fawn grazing a few metres off the trail. its large, innocent eyes looked back at them curiously.

a genuine smile, devoid of their usual antagonism, softened ni-ki’s features. "aww, isn't that cute?"

"hold that thought," you whispered, excitement bubbling in your chest. you fumbled with your phone, eager to capture the adorable creature on camera.

ni-ki chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "don't take all day. we're not exactly bffs on a nature walk here."

you stuck your tongue out at him playfully, focusing on getting the perfect shot. suddenly, a bloodcurdling shriek tore from your throat.

ni-ki whipped around, heart hammering in his chest. he saw you flailing your arms wildly, phone clattering to the ground. without a second thought, he sprinted towards you, fear momentarily overriding his usual animosity.

"what happened?" he gasped, skidding to a halt beside you.

"b-bug!" you stammered, pointing at a nearby leaf. "giant, horrible bug!"

ni-ki followed your shaky finger and let out a snort of laughter. perched on the leaf was a large beetle, no doubt intimidating to someone with a bug phobia, but far from the monstrous nightmare you'd made it out to be.

"seriously, that's it?" he doubled over, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "you screamed like a banshee over a little beetle?"

you glared at him, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering fear. "it was huge! and it tried to bite me!"

ignoring your protests, ni-ki sauntered over to the leaf, his amusement evident. he poked the beetle with a stick, earning a disgruntled hiss in response.

suddenly, his laughter died in his throat. the seemingly harmless beetle, disturbed by his prodding, lunged at him with surprising speed. he yelped, leaping back with a comical yelp, tripping spectacularly over a protruding root in the process.

the force of his fall sent him tumbling backwards, straight into you. with a startled cry, you lost your footing and the two of you went careening down a steep slope, a tangled mess of limbs and flying leaves.

the world became a blur of green and brown before you landed with a thud in a small clearing at the bottom. you groaned, blinking away spots as you sat up, taking stock of your surroundings. ni-ki lay sprawled a few feet away, groaning dramatically.

"well, this is just great," you muttered, brushing dirt off your clothes. you glanced at ni-ki, a flicker of amusement tugging at the corners of your lips despite the throbbing pain in your arm.

he sat up slowly, sheepish grin replacing his earlier smirk. "looks like we both owe that little beetle an apology, huh?"

the amusement in your eyes quickly morphed into pure exasperation as reality settled into you. you had no clue where you were.

"are you kidding me, nishimura?!" you suddenly yelled, throwing your hands up in the air. "you tripped us both over a bug! how clumsy can you possibly get?"

said boy winced at your outburst, the playful glint in his eyes fading. "hey, it wasn't exactly graceful," he mumbled, dusting himself off. "but at least we're not hurt, right?"

"not hurt? we just tumbled down a freaking hill! and for what? because you couldn't resist poking a bug with a stick?"

"alright, alright," he placatingly raised his hands. "let's just calm down. the good news is, i can recognise this part of the woods. we should be able to find our way back to the trail pretty easily."

you eyed him sceptically. "how can you possibly be sure? this whole forest looks the same!"

he puffed out his chest, a hint of his usual arrogance returning. "trust me, pipsqueak. i have a good sense of direction. just follow me."

you gritted your teeth, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. given the choice, you wouldn't have trusted a lost puppy to lead you back, let alone your nemesis with a questionable sense of direction. however, with no other options, you reluctantly trailed behind him.

minutes turned into what felt like hours. the scenery seemed to repeat itself endlessly, a maze of identical trees and sun-dappled paths. panic started to gnaw at your insides.

"nishimura," you said through gritted teeth, "are we sure we're not going in circles?"

he stopped abruptly, a frown etching his face. he pulled out his phone, his expression darkening as he stared at the screen. "damn it. no signal."

your blood ran cold. "what do you mean no signal?"

"there's no cell reception out here," he admitted sheepishly. "i guess i was wrong about knowing the way back."

you stared at him, incredulous. "you got us lost, and now we can't even call for help? you are the most irresponsible person i've ever met!"

he held up his hands defensively. "whoa, hey! it was an accident! we'll figure something out, okay? just calm down."

but calm was the last thing you felt. lost, angry, and scared, you glared at ni-ki, a fierce determination replacing the fear. "we will figure this out," you declared, voice shaking with repressed anger. "but for now, shut up and follow me. maybe i have a better sense of direction than you think."

the forest floor crunched under your feet as you marched ahead, a newfound resolve hardening your features. gone was the bickering banter, replaced by a tense silence punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. ni-ki followed close behind, a sheepish silence replacing his usual bravado.

you scanned the surroundings, searching for any landmark, any sign that might lead you back to the familiar trail. the dense foliage seemed to mock your efforts, the towering trees offering no clues in their uniformity. doubt gnawed at the edges of your determination, but the thought of relying on ni-ki was far worse.

"we need to find higher ground," you finally muttered, remembering a survival tip you'd once read. "maybe we can get a better view from up there."

ni-ki nodded curtly, his earlier arrogance replaced by a hint of worry. together, you pushed through the undergrowth, searching for any sign of an incline. after what felt like an eternity, you stumbled upon a rocky outcrop, its jagged surface a stark contrast to the smooth earth around it.

scrambling up the rocks, you emerged onto a small, uneven plateau. taking a deep breath, you scanned the horizon, hoping for a glimpse of the familiar smoke plume rising from the campsite. but all you saw was a seemingly endless expanse of green, the trees blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope.

disappointment crashed over you, heavy and suffocating. you slumped down onto a smooth rock, the anger slowly draining away, leaving behind a cold dread. lost, with no way to contact anyone, a shiver ran down your spine despite the warm afternoon sun.

"great," you muttered, voice devoid of its earlier fire. "just brilliant."

a moment of heavy silence passed before ni-ki spoke, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. "look, i messed up, okay? i should have paid more attention, and i shouldn't have been so cocky."

you didn't respond, staring blankly at the endless sea of trees.

he continued, his voice softer now. "but freaking out isn't going to help us. we need to work together on this."

he was right, of course. but the idea of trusting him after his colossal blunder left a bitter taste in your mouth. yet, there were no other options.

with a sigh, you finally met his gaze. "fine," you conceded grudgingly. "but if we ever get out of this, i'm never letting you live this down."

a flicker of a smile played on his lips, a hint of his usual defiance returning. "deal. now, how about we put our survival skills to the test, pipsqueak? together."

the animosity was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. but in the face of you predicament, a fragile truce had been formed. you weren't friends, not by a long shot. but for now, you were stuck with each other, and survival depended on a begrudging cooperation.

as the golden light of the afternoon began to fade, long shadows stretched across the forest floor, deepening the gloom beneath the dense canopy. the chirping of birds had been replaced by the eerie calls of nocturnal creatures, sending shivers down your spine.

the initial anger you felt towards ni-ki had morphed into a gnawing fear. the realisation that you were truly lost, with no way to contact anyone, settled in your stomach like a lead weight.

your breaths came in ragged gasps, the realisation of your situation finally hitting you with full force.

tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. a choked sob escaped your lips, quickly escalating into a full-blown panic attack. hyperventilating, you clutched your chest, the world seeming to shrink around you.

suddenly, a hand landed gently on your shoulder. you flinched, expecting another snarky remark from ni-ki. but instead, his voice was soft, laced with concern.

"hey, hey," he soothed, his hand moving to wipe away a stray tear that traced its way down your cheek. "it's okay. we'll be alright."

his touch, surprisingly gentle, sent a jolt through you. you were so used to your constant sparring that this sudden tenderness was completely disarming.

"we just need to calm down," he continued, his voice low and calming. "we can't think clearly if you're panicking. look at me."

hesitantly, you met his gaze. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were now filled with a genuine concern you hadn't seen before.

"we'll find our way back," he promised, his voice firm but reassuring. "the sun will rise again in the morning, and with daylight, everything will seem clearer. we'll figure out a plan then."

his words, surprisingly, had a calming effect. you took a deep, shaky breath, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythm of your inhalations and exhalations. slowly, the panic began to recede, leaving you drained but a little hopeful.

together, you searched for a suitable spot. you found it nestled under the sprawling branches of an ancient oak, its thick trunk offering a sense of security. the ground beneath it was clear of debris, providing a relatively comfortable place to sit.

ni-ki helped you gather fallen leaves and twigs, creating a makeshift cushion. you settled onto it, your body trembling slightly despite the warmth of the setting sun.

he sat down beside you, a respectful distance separating your bodies. the air crackled with an awkward silence, a stark contrast to your earlier bickering.

"thank you," you finally whispered, surprised by the words leaving your lips.

he offered a small smile. "for what?"

"for...not being a jerk," you mumbled, embarrassed.

he chuckled softly, a sound devoid of mockery. "seems like we both have to learn to cooperate sometimes, pipsqueak."

you couldn't help but let out a weak smile, a small flicker of warmth returning to your chest. maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of humanity beneath ni-ki's cocky exterior. as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, plunging the forest into darkness, you leaned back against the rough bark of the oak, a strange sense of calm washing over you.

you weren't friends, not by a long shot. but for now, in the face of the unknown, you had each other. and perhaps, just perhaps, this forced cooperation might lead to something more, something you weren't quite ready to name.

the forest floor was a tapestry of inky black shadows under the cloak of night. the initial panic had subsided, replaced by a gnawing hunger that rumbled in your stomach. you glanced at the pile of foraged mushrooms and roots nestled beside you, a meagre dinner at best.

"so," ni-ki drawled, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness. "any idea how to build a fire with those twigs?"

you scoffed. "as if you could tell a pinecone from a pile of leaves."

he shot you a mock glare. "says the one who screamed at a beetle."

you swatted his arm playfully, surprised at the almost friendly gesture. "alright, alright. i may have overreacted a bit."

a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. "a bit? pip squeak, you practically launched yourself into orbit."

despite the teasing, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. you fumbled with the meagre tinder you'd gathered, frustration building. just as you were about to give up, a gentle hand reached for yours.

"here," he murmured, taking the twigs from your grasp. "let me show you."

with surprising dexterity, he built a small, precarious structure of leaves and twigs. you watched in fascination as he coaxed a spark from a flint and steel you hadn't even noticed him carrying. soon, a tiny flame flickered to life, growing steadily into a small but comforting fire.

a sense of peace, however fragile, settled between you as you roasted the meagre mushrooms and roots over the flames. the silence wasn't antagonistic anymore, filled instead with the crackling fire and the occasional chirping of crickets.

"so," you started hesitantly, "what made you decide to learn survival skills?"

he shrugged, poking a particularly stubborn mushroom with a stick. "always good to be prepared, you know? never know when you might end up stranded in the middle of nowhere with a drama queen for company."

you threw a playful punch at his arm, the sting of your earlier animosity fading. "hey, at least i don't trip over bugs."

he chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "touché, pipsqueak."

as you ate your dinner, you found yourself stealing glances at him. in the flickering firelight, his face seemed softer, less arrogant. you realised with a jolt that his presence, although unexpected, wasn't actually that bad. maybe this forced cooperation was revealing a side of ni-ki you hadn't seen before.

the night wore on, the stars twinkling coldly above. the fire had long since died, leaving behind a fading warmth that couldn't compete with the growing chill. you shifted uncomfortably, the hard ground digging into your back. a shiver wracked your body, the thin jacket doing little to ward off the creeping cold.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw ni-ki shift too, his shoulders slumped against the tree. he let out a barely audible sigh, his breath misting in the cool air.

neither of you spoke, but a silent understanding hung in the air. you were both miserable, the bitter taste of rivalry a distant memory compared to the immediate need for warmth.

with a hesitant movement, you inched closer to the tree trunk, hoping to find a slightly more comfortable position. almost imperceptibly, ni-ki did the same. your shoulders brushed, a jolt of surprise shooting through you. he didn't move away, and after a moment, you leaned in slightly, seeking a sliver of shared warmth.

his arm was close now, separated by only the thin layer of your jacket. you stole a glance at him, expecting a sarcastic remark or a playful jab. but his eyes were closed, his face etched with fatigue.

hesitantly, you reached out, stopping just before your hand touched his arm. he stirred slightly, a low murmur escaping his lips. taking a deep breath, you rested your hand lightly against the worn fabric of his jacket, just below his elbow.

he didn't flinch. instead, he seemed to relax a fraction more, his arm moving ever so slightly to brush against yours.

in the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl, you found a strange comfort. maybe it was the shared misery of the situation, maybe it was the unexpected friendly(?) atmosphere that had sprung up between you. whatever it was, the tension had melted away, replaced by a fragile sense of trust.

sleep claimed you slowly, the warmth of your shared body heat a welcome haven against the encroaching chill. you didn't fall asleep with the intention of being close, but in the quiet intimacy of the night, you found a solace you hadn't expected. as you drifted off, a single thought flickered through your mind: maybe this forced adventure wouldn't be so bad after all.

the first sliver of sunlight, faint and tentative, peeked through the dense canopy, painting delicate stripes across ni-ki's eyelids. he stirred, a low groan escaping his lips as the ache in his back made itself known. he cracked one eye open, then the other, blinking against the sudden brightness.

his breath hitched. you were nestled against him, your head resting on his chest. your arms were wrapped tightly around him, one hand burrowed into the thin fabric of his shirt. his chin rested on the crown of your head, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

he had absolutely no memory of this happening. had you gotten cold in the night and sought his warmth instinctively? the thought sent a warmth of its own blooming in his chest, a warmth at odds with the chill of the morning air. he was utterly captivated. you looked peaceful, your normally sharp features softened in sleep, a light dusting of pink staining your cheeks.

just as he was about to lose himself in the unexpected sight, your eyes fluttered open. they met his gaze, and a slow, mischievous smile spread across your face.

"good morning, sleepyhead," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

ni-ki's cheeks flushed crimson. "m-morning," he stammered, his voice rough from disuse. he tried to disentangle himself from your hold, feeling ridiculously flustered by your closeness.

"nope," you declared playfully, tightening your grip. "this is actually really comfortable. don't move."

he froze, his cheeks burning hotter than ever. his mind raced, torn between wanting to maintain this unexpected closeness and wanting to bolt. a small chuckle escaped your lips, the sound vibrating against his chest.

"relax, drama king," you said, your voice soft. "we're not exactly cuddling in a meadow filled with daisies."

he couldn't help but let out a small laugh himself. the tension started to ease, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the rising sun. slowly, he re-wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer.

"fine," he conceded, feigning annoyance. "but don't think this changes anything, pipsqueak."

you threw your head back and laughed, a bright, genuine sound that echoed through the silent forest. "of course not, ni-ki," you replied, your voice playful. "we're still enemies, remember?"

"enemies who share a surprisingly comfortable tree," he countered, his gaze flickering to the way your hand instinctively rested on his arm.

"so," you said after a moment of comfortable silence, "how do you propose we get ourselves out of this mess?"

the playful mood evaporated as the reality of their situation came flooding back. he cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. "we need to find a landmark, something we remember from the trail. maybe a creek, or a distinctive rock formation. then we can work our way back from there."

you hummed in agreement, your head nuzzling deeper into his chest. "alright, well, let's not get up just yet. it's still pretty cold out here."

a small smile tugged at ni-ki's lips. this unexpected closeness, born out of necessity, felt strangely…nice. he wasn't sure what the future held, or if this forced truce would last beyond getting back to camp, but for now, in the quiet intimacy of the morning, he wouldn't trade this for anything. "yeah," he agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the rising sun. "let's stay here just a little while longer."

the forest around you both remained cloaked in a pre-dawn twilight, but the horizon was ablaze with the promise of a new day. streaks of fiery orange and vibrant pink bled into the inky blue sky, painting a breathtaking canvas above the silent trees. you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of awe, the discomfort of the hard ground momentarily forgotten.

ni-ki glanced down at you, his gaze lingering on the way your eyes sparkled in the soft light. "beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

you nodded, mesmerised by the vibrant display of colours. "it's incredible," you breathed.

a comfortable silence settled between you, the only sounds the gentle rustle of leaves and the chirping of a few early birds. despite the awkwardness of your situation, a strange sense of peace washed over you. ni-ki, with his arm still loosely wrapped around you, seemed less arrogant in the morning light, a hint of vulnerability softening his features.

as the sun climbed higher, painting the leaves in a warm golden glow, you tore your gaze away from the sky. "alright," you announced, a newfound determination in your voice. "let's get serious about finding our way back."

ni-ki mirrored your seriousness. "right. we need to focus." he sat up straight, his gaze scanning the surrounding area. "do you remember anything about the trail? a specific tree, maybe, or a turn-off?"

you wracked your brain, a memory flickering to life. "there was a large, twisted oak tree on the right side of the trail, just before a steep downhill slope. maybe if we can find that..."

"bingo!" ni-ki exclaimed, a grin splitting his face. "i remember that tree too! it was kind of gnarled and had these weird, knobbly branches."

relief flooded your chest. "okay, so let's head east. the sun should be rising in the east, right?"

ni-ki nodded, pulling out the compass he'd managed to find tucked away in a pocket of his backpack. "yeah, the sun should be roughly in the east at this time." he consulted the compass for a moment, then pointed in a direction. "alright, this way."

together, you rose to your feet, your muscles protesting slightly after a night spent on the cold ground. but the prospect of finding your way back to your friends fuelled your movements. you followed the direction ni-ki indicated, carefully navigating the trees, your eyes peeled for any sign of the twisted oak.

the forest seemed less menacing in the bright morning light. you pointed out landmarks – a fallen log, a clump of brightly coloured mushrooms – hoping they might jog ni-ki's memory. he, in turn, shared his knowledge of edible plants and tracking techniques, a surprising wellspring of information hidden beneath his usual cocky exterior.

after what felt like an eternity, your heart leaped into your throat. there, standing defiant against the backdrop of younger trees, was the twisted oak you remembered. you let out a whoop of joy, a sound that echoed through the silent trees.

ni-ki's face mirrored your elation, a genuine smile gracing his features.

relief and a strange sense of accomplishment washed over you. you had faced your fear, survived the night, and most importantly, worked together. maybe, just maybe, this experience would change your dynamic with ni-ki, adding a layer of respect and perhaps a touch of something more.

the familiar path leading back to the campsite emerged from the trees, a beacon of hope and relief. a surge of exhilaration coursed through you. you had made it! without thinking, you spun towards ni-ki, a wide grin splitting your face.

"we did it!" you exclaimed, reaching out impulsively. your fingers grazed his cheek, sending a jolt through you. fuelled by the adrenaline of the moment, and perhaps the lingering intimacy of the night, you leaned in further, your lips brushing against his in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. time slowed, the sound of the forest fading away. but the kiss was short-lived. ni-ki froze, his eyes widening in surprise. he gently pushed you away, his breath hitching.

"whoa," he stammered, his voice laced with confusion. "what was that?"

you stumbled back, cheeks burning with embarrassment. your mind raced, replaying the past few seconds in a humiliating loop. what had you just done? the audacity of your own actions left you speechless.

"i-i..." you stammered, searching for an explanation that wouldn't sound completely insane. "i'm just...so relieved we're back. thank you for helping me, ni-ki." the words sounded lame even to your own ears.

but before you could retreat any further, ni-ki surprised you again. his hand shot out, grabbing you firmly by the waist and pulling you back towards him. this time, there was no hesitation in his eyes. he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant.

you melted against him, all thoughts of embarrassment melting away in the heat of the moment. you responded instinctively, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. the forest around you faded away, the only sound the frantic thudding of your own heart.

finally, ni-ki pulled away, his breath ragged. his eyes, usually so sharp and playful, were now a warm brown, flecked with gold in the morning sunlight. a slow smile spread across his face, a genuine, unguarded smile that sent a flutter to your stomach.

"wow," he breathed, his voice husky. "that was..." he trailed off, searching for the right words.

you swallowed, your own voice barely a whisper. "unexpected?"

he chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "unexpected is definitely one word for it." he paused, his gaze holding yours. "but not unwelcome."

the sound of distant shouts jolted you both back to reality. a chorus of voices, laced with worry and relief, echoed through the trees. you pulled away from ni-ki, suddenly acutely aware of your dishevelled state and the way his lips tingled where yours had been.

"there you two are!" heeseung's voice cut through the trees as he emerged from the path, followed by your other friends. relief washed over their faces, quickly replaced by a flurry of questions and concerned chatter.

"we were starting to think you got eaten by a bear!" sunoo exclaimed, his eyes wide.

you launched into a rapid-fire explanation of your ordeal, leaving out the very recent, and frankly, earth-shattering development with ni-ki. your friends listened intently, bombarding you with questions about the night and how you managed to find your way back.

through it all, you were hyper aware of ni-ki standing beside you. he chimed in occasionally, his voice oddly subdued, and you could steal glances at him, catching the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

then, as you finished your story, jake nudged you playfully. "wow, you guys must have been really scared out there all night. scared enough to, i don't know, eat each other's faces off?"

a collective gasp went up from your friends, their eyes darting between you and ni-ki. your cheeks burned crimson. "what? no!" you sputtered, flustered.

ni-ki chuckled, a low sound that sent shivers down your spine. "yeah, jake," he drawled, his voice teasing. "luckily for us, bears were the only thing on the menu last night."

his playful jab sent another wave of heat flooding your face. you stole a glance at him, and your breath caught in your throat. he was looking at you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, but there was something else there too, something warm and unguarded that made your heart skip a beat.

you looked away quickly, a shy smile tugging at your lips. maybe this unexpected turn of events wasn't so bad after all.

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sunderwight · 6 months ago

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Thinking about an SVSSS AU where, after Shen Qingqiu self-destructs, Luo Binghe does successfully resurrect his dead shizun.

But it's the wrong shizun.

Shen Jiu doesn't remember anything after his actual death, so the last thing he knew, Luo Binghe was his much-loathed teenage disciple, Liu Qingge hated his guts, and his reputation was maybe not the best in the cultivation world but he certainly hadn't been outed as a mass-murderer or embroiled in some twisted, perceived love affair with his least liked student, who it turns out is also some kind of over-powered demon. He doesn't adjust well to the developments that occurred while he was out of operation.

Meanwhile Luo Binghe at first thinks it's reverse amnesia or something, that whatever memories SQQ lost before have been regained, but also that he's lost other memories in the meanwhile. Struggles a bit with the idea that he apparently became the new traumatic thing that his shizun wanted to forget. And then he starts to think that it might be worse than that, and that his shizun has Come Back Wrong, because he does know what Shen "Qingqiu" is like when he's stressed out and furious and struggling, and it's still not like this vitriolic snake of a man he's somehow ended up with.

Eventually, Luo Binghe pieces together that something else must have happened when his shizun qi deviated all those years ago. That this soul is just flat-out not his shizun's soul, but it is also clearly Shen Qingqiu's, which means that Luo Binghe's actual shizun was some kind of spirit that took possession of Shen Qingqiu's body for a while. This is intensely distressing news, although not for any of the normal reasons -- how can he resurrect Shizun if he can't even use this body to call back his soul?!

Meanwhile Mushroom Shen Yuan is trying (and failing) to talk himself out of going to just like, check on Binghe. Quickly. Before he finalizes his whole disappearing-into-the-horizon thing. Which he is definitely absolutely going to do. Once he's just, y'know, sure that Binghe is okay now.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #mysterious cultivator with all of shizun's mannerisms shows up and binghe is just like 'oh thank goodness'#'we shall have a spring wedding'#'and this asshole non-shizun is NOT invited ew liu qingge can just take him away now'#convenient unwanted shizun removal service

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disneyprincemuke · 7 months ago

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too young to know it gets better * fem!driver

there has to be someone out there that can snap her out of it, right?

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: HI AFTER THIS THERE's one left and i promise that's not AS angsty as this one and i'm thinking of adding one or two more bonus chapters?? lolsie but idk we'll see!

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

rockster has disconnected.

that’s the notification that had brought logan and oscar together some random afternoon. they stand in the confinements of the elevator in silence, not a single word uttered since they’d met one another in the lobby after sending a simple text out.

but they know what they’re here for.

logan hadn’t moved that fast in concern for her, dating back 3 years ago when mick had supposedly texted him about marrying his crush in vegas. he had sprinted 2 blocks from his apartment building to hers in the span of a couple of minutes.

and oscar had been running errands with lily prior to getting the notification. when she’d noticed her boyfriend staring down at his phone with distress all over his face, she’d immediately pushed him towards the exits to attend to the girl. she’s also a close friend, so she notices.

if you asked oscar, he’s been worried for months. but with her tendency to keep rejecting his initiation for small talk, it’s difficult to try and find the words to try and pry a confession out of her. but this disconnection from an application they’ve had for years raises red flags that they didn’t even know were possible.

“we’re not overreacting, right?” oscar mutters as they step out of the elevator at her floor.

logan nods, lips pressed into a thin line as he counts the steps he takes down the familiar hallway. “she dropped kidnapper off at my apartment like a week and a half ago. i haven’t heard from her since.”

oscar turns to him. “you’ve heard from her?”

“barely,” logan grimaces with a shake of his head, eyes trained on the hallway. “i invited her in for snacks but she declined and left immediately.”

“i haven’t seen or heard from her since the summer break began.”

“she hasn’t been picking up my calls either.” he turns to oscar. “that’s weird, right?”

logan almost wants to laugh at their conversation. if he didn’t consider that their best friend was the person at stake, he would have laughed the loudest he’s ever. they simply sounded like they were answering one another for copium in hopes that their best friend hasn’t lost her mind just yet.

when he unlocks the door to her apartment, they’re taken aback by the sight they’re immediately greeted with. and for logan, it’s whiplash — he’s only ever had fond memories of this apartment. to find it absolutely thrashed almost breaks his heart a little bit.

in his mind, he can hear the girl always scolding him for being messy when they were living together.

the curtains, typically letting the sun seep into the room, are drawn in to block the light out. the floor is littered with her things and there’s a chair toppled over on the ground. a picture frame on the entertainment system beneath the tv is faced down against the counter and if logan can recall perfectly, it’s their picture from when they were kids.

“what happened in here?” oscar mutters, stepping around the items of stray pieces of clothing on the ground. “should we call someone? do you think someone broke into her apartment?”

“let me call her and see if she’s alright,” logan sighs, fishing for his phone in his back pocket.

he hadn’t expected the situation to be so concerning. have they really let her run rampant on her own all this time?

he dials her number, just about to press the call button when a lock clicks and a door opens.

the girl, albeit slightly unrecognisable at first, steps out of her bedroom. she’s still in her pyjamas, cheeks wet and eyes puffy with her hair in a messy ponytail talling apart on her shoulder.

“who- rocky?”

she flinches back at the voice, catching her off-guard. she sighs tiredly as she pushes her hair out of her face, wiping her cheeks dry on the sleeve of her pyjamas. “what are you guys doing here”

“what are we- when did you get back?” logan tilts his head in confusion. he gestures towards the mess around them, “and what happened? have you been crying?”

she sighs again, eyes fluttering as she turns to look away from them. “you guys should really go. it’s not a good time right now,” she says softly, gesturing them towards the front door of her apartment.

“we can stay and help you clean everything up,” oscar mutters, mirror logan’s stare at the ground, “we’re just curious. you don’t typically let your apartment get this messy.”

“mate,” another sigh comes with her pinching the bridge of her nose, “it’s really not a good time right now.”

oscar’s head snaps up. “are you avoiding us?”

she stares at him tiredly. “what? no, it’s just-”

“you are, aren’t you?” oscar cuts her off, feeling an overwhelming wave of frustration takes over him. months of what feels like a one-sided friendship finally catches up to him.

every single rejection of plans reminds him how neglected their friendship has been, every time she’s ‘forgotten’ to look for an ice cream parlour makes his blood boil. it is such a one-sided friendship as of late and it feels like she’s no longer honouring the years of friendship they have.

“but why? did we do something? did we say something to upset you?”

she slouches her shoulders. she takes a deep breath to recompose herself. “please just go,” she croaks out, feeling a knot in her throat at the realisation of where this entire conversation might be heading. “not now.”

“but what is it? is it us?” oscar frowns. “at least tell us before you start ignoring us.”

she clenches her jaw as her patience runs thin. and she tries to hold on to the last string of patience she has. all these past months, she’s tried her damnest not to be this way to anyone that’s involved in racing.

just to save some face, to show that she’s not completely lost her mind. apart from the fact that they’re all practically colleagues, they’re also her friends.

but as oscar continues to edge her on for an explanation for her behaviour, it’s increasingly getting more difficult to keep her outbust at bay.

“rocky,” oscar calls out to grab her attention. “what is it? i’m so tired of you beating around the bush; if we did something to upset you, speak up. it’s not fair — what you’re doing. you’re cancelling plans, you’re bailing, you’re leaving us hanging… we’ve known each other half of our lives. you can’t just do this.”

logan shifts uncomfortable where he stands. “do you hate us?”

she tries to stop herself, really. but she should be allowed one outburst in her life.

“yes, yes, i actually do!” she admits, venom lacing her words as she starts to explain herself. “it sucks. i’m so fucking jealous of all of you right now. i’ve tried to feel happy for you guys but honestly?” a dry laugh passes her lips, tears falling out of her eyes. “i resent all of the success you’ve found this year.

because you’re doing great and i’m not. it’s annoying because i should be doing great too. because between every single one of us, no one’s worked as hard as i have to get to where i am today. you’re my best friends but i can’t get myself to be happy for you and i hate myself even more for it.”

oscar blinks blankly at her. her chest heaves as she finishes speaking, fists clenched by her side as she starts to cry a little harder.

she’s swallowed down every single drop of resentment she feels towards her friends, all doing well while she’d sunk deeper into the trenches of her own demise.

speaking ill of them that one time they achieved a podium without her haunted her for weeks on end. she couldn’t get herself to speak to them like she hadn’t spent 20 minutes speaking behind their backs about how much she hates that they’re on podiums without her.

“it was easier to avoid you than say things i can’t say.”

it was truly one of the last times she spend with them; the guilt of speaking on them ate her up. she’s apologise out of the blue and they’d have no idea what she was talking about.

admitting it now feels like their friendship would truly never be the same. like this is the one fight that’s been waiting to happen after their years of friendship and would lead to her eventual loneliness.

but she doesn’t expect oscar to start laughing. “are you fucking stupid?”

“excuse me, what?” she scoffs, throwing her head back slightly.

logan sighs next to socar. “come on, don’t be like that. she’s clearly having a hard time right now,” he mutters, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

oscar turns to logan, pointing a hand over to where the girl stand by her bedroom door. “really, logan? you don’t think she’s being so mind-numbingly stupid right now?” he glances at her then immediately looks away. “she’s so insensitive right now. the last thing she should have done is isolate herself but she’s gone ahead and done exactly that.”

oscar huffs and turns back to her with a frown. “you would think that she would fall back on the people who understand her the most. and you still don’t believe she’s being stupid?”

logan sighs again. “oscar.”

“you don’t fucking get it!” she screams.

“we’re the ones who don’t get it? out of everyone you know, we’re the 2 people who understand the most!”

he has a point, she starts to think. but it’s not the same — they’re not the same. their predicaments are different.

they never had to go through and be on the receiving end of words that tried to tear her down as she grew up.

“no, you don’t!” she says with slight amusement. “you’re oscar piastri. everyone’s kissed the ground you’ve walked on; you came into the sport and everyone’s been acting like you’re a prodigy changing the course of the sport. you don’t know what it’s like to be this way!”

“and you thought that pushing away every single person who wants to help you is the solution to your problems?” oscar snorts. then it hits him. “is that why i haven’t seen matt around lately? you drove him away? finally cracked, didn’t he?”

“you don’t know the half of it,” she scoffs. there’s no need for oscar to remind her of the cardinal sin she’d acted upon to drive matt away.

she lives with the repercussions of it every single day: coming back to an empty apartment. just an apartment, a shell of what used to feel like home.

“all of this over a bad couple races?” oscar rolls his eyes and another mean scoff passes his lips. he was unaware how bad it had gotten for her. “how immature. there’s more to fucking life than your position in f1.”

she sucks in a deep breath. “you’ll never understand.”

“oh, i do,” oscar points out with a small grin. “i grew up with you, rocky, i know how you operate. you break down the minute you’re not the best at something. you get scared and hide away when you don’t feel like you’re on the top of your game.”

“what do you know about what i feel?” she tilts her head with a small smile. “that’s so fucking pretentious of you to say so, oscar.”

“you’ve already made it to the top.” he picks his feet up and starts to walk over to her, shoving away logan’s hand that tries to stop him from threading any further. “it’s unnecessary that you’re still this hard on yourself. you’ve proved everyone wrong by making it this far. there are people on your side,” he jabs a finger into her shoulder and she stumbles back, “there are people who miss you- we miss you!

“do you even realise how lucky you have it right now? you’ve got sebastian helping to push your narrative because he believes in you. do you think everyone’s got that luxury?” he points back at logan. “do you think he had that luxury fight for his life in this sport? did that even cross your mind or are you just so far into your head?”

“oscar,” logan repeats. oscar glances back at logan who has his lips pressed into a thin line, unamused by the scenario he’s choosing to bring up. “don’t even go there.”

but oscar ignores him. oscar turns back to the younger girl and grabs her shoulders, squeezing them firmly as he draws a soft sob from her.

“i thought that because you weren’t entirely alone, it was okay that we take a step back and stopped meddling with your life. i thought you were going to be fine; i thought you knew ho to handle yourself and continue to keep your feet on the ground.”

she shakes her head, bottom lip pouted out. “you don’t-”

“i don’t understand?” oscar scoffs. “how far into your head have you gone to push yourself into a corner? do you realise that you’re in the trenches because you put yourself in there? have you looked in the mirror and actually,” oscar shakes her, “looked at yourself?”

and it seems that something finally clicked in her head. she stares blankly up at him, tears finally running down her cheeks. her chest heaves with constant sobs as she no longer can find the words in her head to prove her point.

“okay, that’s enough,” logan mutters, yanking oscar away from the girl. he shoves the younger boy towards the kitchen. “go and get some air and drink some water — you’re scaring her.”

oscar sniffles, wiping his eyes and stumbles towards the kitchen. he spares her one last glare before turning his back on her. “whatever.”

logan can only sigh when he looks down her head. she’s got her head in her hands as she sobs. she lifts her eyes to look up at him and scoffs. “what? do you have something to say to me? about how deranged i’ve gotten?”

“i don’t know what got into you to think we wouldn’t understand how you were feeling,” he says softly, tears flooding his eyes.

it’s difficult to watch someone you think is so strong be half the person you watched her grow into. he pulls her into his arms, squeezing her into a tight hug and rests his chin on her head.

“i’m sorry,” she cries in staggered breaths into his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know. i didn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he mutters, squeezing her tighter. “we’re here.” he pulls away slightly and cups her cheeks, wiping her tears away with a small grin. “we’ve got you, okay? we’re here now.”

she nods through her tears, “okay.”

“we’ve got you, i promise,” logan hums, pulling her in again. he sways gently as he feels her sobs slowly dying out. “you’ll be okay.”

logan turns around at the sound of things shuffling about. oscar has a trash bag in his hand, picking up empty bottles on the ground and throwing them into the bag silently. she pulls her head back and watches oscar slowly navigate her littered apartment.

sensing their stares, oscar glances over his shoulder. “are you going to help me or are you just going to let me do this by myself?”

she glances up at logan with eyebrows raised and in return, he shrugs with a small smile.

for the next 2 hours, they clean up her apartment in silence. no music, not an utter of another word, just a heavy silence pushing down on their shoulders as they shift about her apartment like a well-oiled machine.

oscar throws his dirty piece of tissue into the bin right by the coffee table and sighs, leaning back into the couch he’s sat on. he’s in a single seater while logan and her share the bigger couch.

her apartment finally looks the way they all remember it. pristine with all her things neatly slotted into their respective slots.

oscar hasn’t spoken to her much since he’d gotten the bright idea to start helping her clean the apartment for her. he’d briefly asked her if she wanted pizza for dinner, to which she simply shrugged and said okay, then asked which toppings she wanted. then they returned to their silence.

he picks up her can of pepsi, popping it open before extending his hand over to her. she turns stiffly and looks at his offer with a blank stare. “oh, thank you.”

she takes it into her hands and glances over at oscar who turns away from her immediately to grab logan’s drink next. “i’m sorry,” she says first, just barely above a whisper. her head is dropped slightly, eyes trained on the slicer of pizza in her hands.

truthfully, she’s not very sure how to apologise for her behaviour. while she’s broken down over things said about her and her progress is a sport that barely had a spot for her, it’s never gotten this bad.

she hadn’t even realised that they still cared with their own lives now.

“no, i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, turning his head to her. “that we didn’t foster an environment where you felt like you could come to use and be honest about how you’re really feeling. you did it for me all the time when we first started out and i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.”

“it’s not even your fault,” she sighs shakily. “i pushed away everyone who tried to extend their hands out to me to help. oscar’s right.”

oscar sighs audibly, sinking into his seat. he turns his head to look at her and purses is lips. “i’m sorry i called you stupid,” oscar says, “we grew up together… i just thought that if you didn’t feel right, we’d still be the people you know you don’t have to put up a facade with. be brutally, disgustingly and painfully honest with.”

“i really didn’t wanna worry anybody,” she frowns. “you have your own lives now, you know? i thought i could handle it on my own.”

“don’t even say that,” oscar turns to her with furrowed eyebrows, “you’re practically my little sister — i’ve driven you to the hospital after you writhed in pain from dislocating your shoulder playing volleyball. i’ve beaten up guys from school for you so of course you’ll always have a place in our lives.”

“i didn’t want you to know that i was a sore loser,” she shrugs with a small grin. she gestures towards logan. “he took our first 2 years in the sport so gracefully. it was embarrassing that i couldn’t do the same when it was my turn.”

“what?” logan scoffs. “you seriously think i wasn’t jealous seeing you guys being glorified by everyone? i felt like shit watching you guys get accepted in the sport with open arms and make new friends without me.”

he gives her a knowing stare when she turns her head to look at him. “i lvoe you, but i seriously despised you so much for being better than me at everything. i felt like the smallest man who’s ever lived when i was next to you. and dude… we were always together.”

she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i didn’t know that… i’m sorry…”

“but at the end of the day, you were always there for me,” logan frowns, poking her arm gently. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the same level of comfort to not spiral this bad. the only reason i hadn’t was because you were there for me all the time.”

“well i’m sorry that i was so mean to you,” oscar sighs. “but you know you needed it, right?”

“i know,” she shrugs, “thanks.”

“i don’t wanna be the one to bring it up, though,” logan hums as he reaches forward for another slice, “but what happened with matt?”

she chuckles with a soft snort. she lifts her head and puffs her cheeks out. “i wasn’t very nice to him when everything was falling apart,” tears flood her eyes, “he called for a break. but honestly, i think he wants to break up with me.”

logan raises an eyebrow. “he asked for a break, didn’t he? that’s not a breakup, mate.”

“you weren’t there. i wouldn’t want to be with me either if i had to endure what he went through with me,” she admits with a sigh. she wipes her tears away from her eyes and smiles slightly. “i think he’s just trying to soften the blow.”

oscar laughs. he laughs the loudest and heartiest he’s ever since he’d bolted from lily while they were running errands together. “do you seriously think that?”

she blinks at oscar. “i thought we were done being mean to me, mate.”

“we are!” oscar beams, forcing himself to falter with his laughter. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to make you feel worse. but do you seriously think that matt — the guy who’s in your garage every single weekend, literally comes into the paddocks with ice cream for your entire team, texts logan and i to ask about things to surprise you with — wants to seriously break up with you?”

“well, you weren’t there,” she explains with a frown. “well, you were, once when i was crying in the paddocks. but i was so mean to him.”

“but a break isn’t a breakup,” oscar explains as he points at her knowingly. “you were arguably at your worst, i doubt that he wants to leave you when your mental was that bad. it happens, you know?”

“if he didn’t want to be with you, he would have broken up with you instead of asking for a break,” logan sighs, patting her on the shoulder. “just approach him.”

“i don’t know how to,” she admits, sliding down the couch to lie down slightly. “there’s no gesture big enough to makeup for the things i said… the way i treated him…”

“say you’re sorry,” oscar says with a small grin and a nod. “start there and i’m sure you guys can work it out from there, you know?”

“i’ll try.”

“okay, enough with this,” logan throws his head back with a grunt. “let’s go karting!” he stands up and smiles at her widely. “you sound like you need your edge back. i’ll even let you win this time.”

she scoffs, “as if i’d ever lose to you in equal machinery!”

“aw, she’s back! she’s fighting back now!” oscar cheers, hopping up as he claps his hands. “come on! then let’s get ice cream where we always get it! i haven’t been there in forever.”

“okay, okay!” she laughs, watching the 2 of them jump to their feet and start to clear out her table. she feels a warmth in her chest watching them in her living room. “just let me shower, okay? we kinda cleaned a lot tonight. i won’t take less than 15 minutes, i promise!”

there’s a chorus of heavy sighs and arms thrown in the air. “we might as well cancel karting.”

“but you take forever to get ready!” oscar jokes with a frown. “if you pass 15 minutes, you’re paying for ice cream.”

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#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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makingqueerhistory · 1 year ago

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Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.

#queer #lgbt #transgender #queer books #lgbt books #book recommendations #queer history

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eunsuri · 1 month ago

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The Lighthouse

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan

Summary: Lavellan explores The Lighthouse and reunites with her heart.

Word Count: 6,608

Warnings: ANGST. Lots of emotions. Lots of love. VEILGUARD SPOILERS.

A/N: Hi everyone! Happy 2 weeks until Veilguard! This has taken me way longer to write than I'd hoped, but I MADE IT! This was inspired by a beautiful piece of art by @pani-artz, I couldn't resist! I've kept Lavellan's description vague for those who would like to keep their own Lavellan in mind while reading! Also posted on AO3!

“We’re here.”

A cold breeze swept through the crossroads, cooling Lavellan’s skin as she stepped up the stairs, Harding, and Leliana flanking her from behind. The three stood before the Eluvian, the shimmering surface glowing faintly. The ancient mirror reflected the crumbled pieces of the ruins floating within the crossroads, flickering with ancient magic and ready to draw them into another world.

Anticipation stirred in Lavellan’s stomach, her senses heightened and glaring at her warped reflection. The faint glow of the mirror’s surface cast a strange light across the stone floor through the overgrown foliage around its frame, and the chill in the air seemed to seep into her bones.

Harding and Leliana exchanged glances behind her, but she hardly noticed, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest like a wild creature trying to escape its cage. Harding had seen this Lighthouse before, She knew what lay behind the Eluvian, all the memories hidden in Solas’ base of operations.

Lavellan knew Solas wouldn’t be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, what awaited was everything he had left behind—his memories, his isolation, the echoes of a life spent in the shadows. The thought of stepping into his world, of facing the remnants of his past and the pieces he had chosen to keep hidden, sent a wave of dread through her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for what she might see—for how deeply his loneliness would be etched into every corner of this place

He had stopped appearing in her dreams, no matter how hard she searched the endless distance where he once stood, always watching over her from afar. Even when she reached out, he’d slip away like a shadow, yet his presence had brought her comfort. Night after night, she would speak to him—tell him how much she missed him, how she longed to change his heart. The wolf never answered, but the sorrow in his eyes cut deeper each time, and her desperation to find him only grew over the years.

Now, her dreams were empty, filled with nothing but the ache of waiting for a love that never came. Sleepless nights blurred together as she wondered if he had forgotten her, or if something terrible had happened to him. When Harding had brought news that Solas was alive but trapped in the Fade, it brought a measure of relief, yet doubt still gnawed at her. Would she find any sign that he remembered her in this place, or had she been lost to him as well?

Harding broke the silence, her voice gentle but laced with tension. “It’s… a lot to take in, but I thought you might want to see it.” She paused, then added, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Lavellan’s breath caught in her throat, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over her. Ready? She didn’t think she ever could be. How could anyone prepare to see the deepest, most private parts of someone they loved, but had lost so long ago?

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She needed to do this, no matter how much it hurt. She needed to understand him in a way she hadn’t before, to see his world, his pain, and his purpose. Where he had been all this time, if he remembered her. Even if he wasn’t there to explain it himself.

Lavellan took a shaky, deep breath and stepped toward the mirror, the surface rippling as she neared. With a final glance back at Harding and Leliana, she stepped through and the two followed.

Emerging on the other side, her breath caught in her chest. The three stepped into a realm bathed in a warm, golden glow, as if suspended in the sky. Floating islands hovered in the distance, each dotted with autumn-hued trees as if kissed by sunlight, gently swaying in an unseen breeze. Ancient elven ruins, crumbled yet graceful, drifted among them, suspended in the air like forgotten dreams.

Before them stood a weathered statue of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, positioned in the heart of the courtyard. It was a figure of a protector—his posture calm, watching over the space with an almost serene presence. Cracks ran through the stone, softened by patches of moss that had claimed him over time, as though nature itself had embraced him. The statue seemed ancient, yet resilient, a symbol of an age long past, guarding the Lighthouse like a silent sentinel.

Beyond the statue, the Lighthouse rose, stretching impossibly high into the sky, its top crowned by a bright magical light encased in a spinning golden roof. The beacon pulsed with an ethereal glow, guiding not only the lost but also wandering spirits seeking refuge. The golden accents that decorated the Lighthouse shimmered in the sunlight, long streams of green fabric dancing in the wind.

Lavellan marvelled at the beauty and serenity of the place as she continued towards the entrance of the Lighthouse, carefully stepping down the broken staircase. The large door opened as the three approached, allowing them to enter the towering building.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the faded murals stretching along the pathway, their muted colours leading into the centre of the Lighthouse. Each one told a story—Solas’ time in Arlathan, his stories of rebellion, and the ancient history of the elves, including the tale of the Evanuris' downfall.The images on the walls, the stories painted into the stone, all reflected the weight of millennia.

Murals she had seen variations of before caught her eye, depicting Fen’Harel freeing slaves and removing their Vallaslin, as he had once done for her. Another told the story of the Evanuris’ rise to power and their tyrannical ways, with Fen’Harel’s outstretched arms attempting to show them they were not truly gods.

The Dalish legends she had grown up with had taught her to fear the Dread Wolf, to tread lightly lest the trickster god hear her footsteps. But now, knowing him as she did—not as the villain in their stories, but as the man who had fought to free his people, the man she loved—her heart was torn. The fear remained, lingering like an old scar, but it was now tangled with love, understanding, and sorrow for what he had become.

Lavellan wandered through the Lighthouse, her steps slow as she absorbed the surroundings. Relics of a world long lost lay scattered around, each one steeped in both history and longing. The air felt thick with memories—some sorrowful, others sacred—echoes of a time far beyond reach.

She found herself in a large room that appeared to be underwater, giant framed glass windows as a barrier between the water, with many schools of fish swimming through the depths. A lone green leather sofa was situated in the middle of the room, stuffed bookshelves lined the walls, and an array of candles scattered across the floor creating a cosy warmth that drew her in.

It was then that a soft flicker of candlelight against brilliant colours drew her gaze to a mural, its glow pulling at her like a distant memory. A set of candles was arranged on either side of the mural, almost as though it were a shrine. As she made her way towards the artwork, her heart sank deep into her stomach, a heavy weight settling in her chest.

The painting depicted a woman—one hand raised high, a radiant burst of green light pouring from her palm, the other clutching a sword close to her chest. Below the hilt, the familiar mark of the Inquisition gleamed. It was her.

The weight of this realisation struck her in an instant, chest tightening with disbelief, an ache settling deep as sorrow wrapped itself around her heart. Her likeness, immortalised in these ancient halls, was a reminder of what she once stood for, of the time they shared and the distance between them now.

Her fingers traced along the lines of the mural, imagining the strokes Solas had made, his hand dragging the brush across the stone with care. Every detail, every line, told her this was more than a mere addition to his collection of stories. This was crafted with love. He had painted her not just to remember her, but to hold onto her presence, as though each stroke was a vow to never let her fade from his memory.

Tears pooled along her eyelashes. She didn’t know whether to feel honoured, heartbroken, or both. Every detail of the mural seemed to call out to her, each brushstroke a whisper of what had been, what was lost. Slowly, Lavellan’s gaze fell to a small wooden box resting beneath the mural, its presence unassuming, as though it had always been waiting for her.

Hands trembling, she reached for the box, dragging her fingertips along the warmed wood, and gently lifted the lid. Inside, nestled among the old wood, lay Solas' jawbone necklace. The one he had always worn. Lavellan paused, inspecting the familiar necklace before reaching to lift it from the box. The sensation of the cold bone and thick rope looped around it was almost foreign, yet the weight of its meaning was still heavy.

As the jawbone rested in her palm, memories surged through her mind—fragments of what they once had. She recalled how she’d often tug him closer by the necklace, his lips moving against hers, fervent and desperate, as though her touch were the very air he breathed. She remembered idly tracing the rigid texture of the necklace as she lay against his chest, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breath as he shared quiet stories of the Fade. Each moment felt as tangible as the cool bone now in her grasp.

She could no longer hold it with the same warmth she once had, but the connection to him, to their shared past, lingered still. The weight of the jawbone in her hand felt like a lifeline to the man she had been hunting for all these years. Desperate to keep that feeling close, she gently lifted the necklace over her head, letting the familiar curve of bone rest against her chest. It settled there, and for a brief moment, she felt as though she had him with her again.

Lavellan clutched the bone in her hand while blinking away the lingering tears which threatened to fall at any moment. As she moved forward, every step felt heavier, unable to shake the palpable sense of solitude that hung in the air. This place, with all its beauty, was not just a refuge for spirits. It was a place of mourning—a sanctuary for Solas’ lost hopes, where his memories whispered through every crack in the stone, and his loneliness lingered like a shadow.

Further in, a large dining table sat in the centre of the room. The long wooden surface stretched out before her, grand and ancient, yet only a single place setting lay at its head—a lone plate, a single cup, and neatly arranged cutlery beside them. An ache squeezed in her chest at the sight. This table, large enough for a gathering, bore only the quiet signs of one man’s solitary meals. Solas had sat here alone, day after day, surrounded by memories and ghosts of his old ambitions.

She couldn’t bear the thought of him there, sitting quietly, the vast emptiness echoing through the room as he contemplated the burden of his mission. He had been so steadfast, so determined, yet the loneliness had seeped into every corner of his existence. How many nights had he sat here in silence, the weight of his choices pressing down on him, thinking that this was the only choice he had.

The simple setting was a stark reminder of everything he had left behind for his mission—companionship, love, the simple joys of shared moments. The pain choked at Lavellan's throat and the tears she had fought streamed down her skin as she took in the sight. She rested a hand on the back of the chair, picturing him there, staring into the distance across the table, as he grappled with the weight of millennia. He had shut everyone out, even those who would have fought beside him, and in doing so, had consigned himself to this eternal isolation.

Lavellan stood still by the table, the weight of her thoughts pushing down on her shoulders like a storm cloud on the verge of breaking. Her sadness gave way to a simmering anger that twisted deep in her chest. How could he have left her—left them—like this? If only Solas had confided in her—trusted her with his truths. If only he had let her share the burden that had twisted his path into something unrecognisable. Things could have been different; they could have faced this together. She could have stood by his side, helped him bear the weight of his cause, find a better way, and maybe, just maybe, spared them both the pain of this isolation.

The thoughts of what could have been pierced through her, sharp and unyielding. How different would their lives have been if he hadn’t pushed her away, if he hadn’t shrouded himself in secrecy and left her to chase shadows for years? Heavy and unrelenting regret settled into her bones. They could have shared this—this fight, this journey. She had loved him enough to stay, to fight for him, but he had locked her out, too consumed by his purpose, too afraid to burden her with the truth.

Her fingers curled into her palms, hands clenched at her sides, frustration clawing its way up her body as she thought of the pain he had caused—his actions had left Varric wounded, with the false gods free to wreak their havoc upon the world. He had condemned himself to isolation, convinced he was sparing her the pain when, in truth, he had only deepened the wound.

Maybe he had been too proud, too wrapped in his conviction that he had to bear this weight alone. He hadn’t let her love him the way she could have. If only. If only things had been different. If only he had trusted her.

Lavellan’s thoughts were then interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. She wiped at her eyes hastily, straightening her posture as Leliana appeared at the doorway.

“They’ve returned,” Leliana spoke softly. “Rook and the others are back.”

Lavellan turned, her heart still heavy from the weight of her reflections. Without a word, she nodded, following Leliana out of the room and towards the group that had gathered in the main hall.

There was more to it now—she’d learned that Rook had formed a connection with Solas. A tether, almost, caused by the disrupted ritual. She had to know if there was a way, some hidden thread she could pull to reach him herself, to bridge the distance between them once more.

A spark of determination tingled through her skin. If Rook had found a way to connect, perhaps she could too.

Later that same evening, with the sharp sting of her discoveries still fresh in her chest, Lavellan found herself standing in the Fade.

Rook had spoken of how they had become connected to Solas through the ritual gone wrong, their fates intertwined, and Lavellan had seized upon that fragile link. It was all she needed—a thread, however thin, to follow him.

With Varric’s warning in her ears and Solas’ necklace warm against her skin, she stepped forward, stumbling through the dark and desolate landscape of the Fade. The twisted remnants of broken elven statues loomed around her, their cracked surfaces glinting dully in the ethereal light, like forgotten memories trapped in stone. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt magic, a bitter tang that clung to her tongue, tainted by a ritual gone horribly wrong.

As she moved, the ground crumbled beneath her feet, each step sending a shiver through her body as she navigated the uneven terrain. She could feel Solas’ presence—distant, yet unmistakable—like a flickering flame in the depths of her mind, pulling her forward despite the air of despair that settled around her like a shroud. Echoes of lost voices whispered through the stillness, their lamentations brushing against her ears, urging her to keep searching in this forsaken place.

She had worked so hard to find him over the past ten years, constantly reaching for him in her dreams only for him to slip away like a fading memory. Her relief at hearing he was alive warred with the anger gnawing at her heart. He had stopped appearing in her dreams, and for so long she had feared the worst—afraid he had been consumed by his mission, or worse, by his pride. Yet here he was, trapped in the Fade, perhaps lost in his own way.

The thought of him being trapped, cut off from everything, pulled at her heart. Just as she had found him again, he was suffering. But that grief mixed with a simmering anger. He had hurt Varric, who had only been trying to stop him from making a terrible mistake.

Her steps quickened, the greyed path through the Fade twisting and bending as though it were alive. She remembered Varric’s words—how he had tried to stop Solas, how Solas, in his struggle tugging at the lyrium dagger, had let it go too far. The thought stung, reopening the old wounds that had never fully healed. He had hurt someone they both cared about. Had it been an accident, or had his obsession with his plan blinded him to everything else?

It was then she saw him. Solas stood at the edge of the platform, his presence powerful and untouchable like a distant star. His eyes caught hers with a knowing look, as though he had been expecting her all along.

His strong stance wavered ever so slightly, a near imperceptible shift. Somehow, he was even more beautiful than she remembered. He was draped in dark leather armour that hugged his frame, his broad shoulders embellished with gold which decorated his chest as well. His face remained sharp and regal, though it now carried a colder edge. The weight of his millennia-old burden clung to him, as heavy as the Fade around them.

The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through her, but it was quickly swallowed by the bitter pang of nostalgia and regret, memories crashing over her like an ice cold wave. Lavellan’s voice faltered, the carefully rehearsed words slipping from her grasp, lost under the crushing gravity of his presence. For countless nights, she had imagined this moment—each conversation, every plea, practised over and over. But now, as he stood before her, all those thoughts scattered like dust, leaving her speechless.

“Solas.”

Her voice trembled with the only thing she could utter, a raw mix of anger and longing breaking free. Lavellan felt the years between them collapse. The sorrow, the love, the pain, and the anger—it all surged forward, overwhelming her in an instant.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Solas’ expression remained guarded, though the tension in his jaw and the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. His lips parted, as though he might speak, but the words died unspoken on his tongue. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken history.

Lavellan’s heart raced as she struggled to steady her breath, emotions crashing over her: love, anger, and grief all vying for control. She wanted to scream at him for the pain he'd caused—to her friends, to her. She wanted to demand answers, to weep for his loneliness, for how lost he had become. But she also longed to run into his arms, to hold him so tightly he could never leave again, to feel the warmth of his lips, to taste the love they once shared.

Across the distance, Solas silently soaked in the sight before him. Amidst the boundless darkness of his prison, his heart stood before him once more. A dull ache crawled from his chest into his throat as he noticed how time had touched her. Soft lines had etched themselves across her skin—subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone but him. She looked exhausted, as though the years had been heavy, yet her beauty had not faded. Her eyes still held the same fire, the same brightness that had captivated him.

His gaze fell to her arm, the gleam of metal catching his eye—her prosthetic. The sight of it twisted his heart into a deep, bitter knot of guilt. She had lost her arm because of choices he had made. Though removing it would save her from an untimely end, her connection to the Anchor would have consumed her had the arm remained. However, that knowledge offered little comfort.

It was because of him. she had been marked in the first place, that she had been forced to bear that burden, to lose part of herself for a cause that had never truly been hers to fight. He carefully swallowed the pain in his throat in an attempt to mask the surge of sorrow that threatened to break through.

For a heartbeat, the distance between them seemed insurmountable and never ending. Yet the connection they had forged so long ago, deep and unshakable, remained—like a tether drawing them together even now.

Solas shifted subtly, searching the depths of his mind for words that could bridge the chasm of time and pain between them. No words could repair the damage that had been done, not a single syllable could undo the devastation he had caused.

“Vhenan…” he whispered at last, his voice rough, heavy with all the things left unsaid. It was the only word he could manage, the only truth left to him, spoken as though it held within it all his love and regret. The word hung in the air like a fragile promise.

The harsh and unforgiving hand of grief gripped Lavellan’s heart at the sound of his endearment. It had been so long since she had heard the word leave his lips, and yet it was the same—soft, full of meaning. She placed one foot in front of the other, taking a tentative step forward, her fingers brushing against the jawbone necklace, grounding her in the reality of the moment. The memory of their love flooded her, the fluttering which overwhelmed her belly when he would call her his heart, mingling with the anger that still smouldered in her chest.

“What have you done, Solas?” Her voice cracked through her cutting words, the accusation spilling through her lips before she could bite her tongue. “You stopped coming to me. You were…tearing the Veil apart, and then Varric—” She swallowed hard, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “You didn’t stop. You hurt him, and now… the false gods are free and ready to destroy this world.”

Her words were sharp, biting, but beneath the anger was the raw, unspoken truth: she loved him. She always had. And seeing her proud, cunning love like this—trapped in the cage of his own creation—cut deeper than any wound she had ever known.

Solas’ eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his head bowing beneath the shameful weight of her words. When his eyes found her again, there was a subtle flicker in his gaze—something raw and aching, a depth of emotion she couldn’t quite define. Regret, perhaps, or something far more tangled and broken.

“It was not supposed to happen this way,” he murmured, voice thin and weary, as if even the admission pained him, the words almost too heavy to continue. “I had a plan. The ritual, I was moving them to another prison. But Varric interfered, he disrupted a dangerous ritual. I did not intend for him to get hurt.”

The flame in Lavellan’s eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling as the words tumbled out without a second thought. "Varric was our friend, Solas. You’ve gone too far. He wasn’t aware of your intentions. He tried to stop you, tried to make you see reason, and you—" She faltered, the pain caught in her throat reducing her voice to a weak whisper.

Though Varric still lived, his fate was uncertain, the magic from the lyrium-infused dagger weaving through his veins unpredictably. Her dear friend had only wanted to help—and yet, he had paid the painful price for it.

The hardened resolve in Solas’ eyes wavered, his brow furrowing with the slightest shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he uttered, the words quiet, but laden with everything left unspoken.

“That’s all you have to offer? After everything that’s happened? After all this time?” Lavellan’s words sliced through the air, her voice was low yet biting. Her fingers curled in, hands tense at her sides as her frustration simmered just beneath the surface.

She was torn between the depth of her love and the hot flame of her anger. She had missed him so achingly—every day without him was a quiet torment—but now, seeing him like this, the one she’d loved so fiercely, all she could feel was the cold sting of his absence, the ache of betrayal. He had left her, and worse, he had hurt Varric in his reckless pursuit.

And now, after everything he had done, he stood there with regret etched into his sharp features, yet offering nothing more than a simple apology. She could see the remorse in his eyes, he meant it, but it wasn’t enough—not after everything. She longed to reach out to him, to close the distance between them, but the wound was too fresh, too raw. How could she bridge the gap when all he had to offer were those meagre words?

“Nothing can change what I have already done,” Solas sighed, the sound long and weary, as though carrying the burden of centuries.

“I know,” she replied, her voice trembling with the heaviness of her admission. “You can’t undo what’s been done… but you can still do better. You can still choose differently.”

Solas studied her, his expression unreadable for a moment, though the gravity of her words seemed to hang between them. "Better choices do not erase what has already been set in motion," he spoke quietly, his tone almost resigned, as though he carried the inevitability of his fate like a burden.

“So what, you'll just let the world fall apart because it's already in motion? You think destroying this world will somehow lead to salvation?” Lavellan began, her voice cold and cutting. Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching as she took a hard step forward. “The elven people you’re trying to save? There’ll be nothing left for them if you don’t help us stop this madness now.”

Her words hit him like a sudden gust, rattling the walls he had built around himself. For a moment, his defences collapsed under the truth of her words. But then, almost instinctively, he pulled them back up, his expression hardening as his gaze held hers.

”'Did you come only to scold me, Vhenan? Or is there more you wish to say?”

Lavellan��s breath quickened at his response, the fire in her eyes dimming for just a moment as his question hung in the air. The silence between the two stretched, filled with all the things that had never been said, all the pain, all the longing in their time apart. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, struggling to speak past the heaviness of her own heart.

"There is plenty I wish to say. But in truth, I came because—" She managed to murmur, the words catching in her throat. Her feet moved before her mind could stop them, stepping slowly towards Solas. "Because I was worried about you. Because I wanted to see you." Her voice was raw, as if speaking the truth aloud burned at her tongue. "Because…even after everything I—"

Solas’ head tilted ever so slightly, his expression softening as his furrowed brows relaxed, and for a fleeting second, something in him seemed to break. The unspoken bond between them, ever-present and undeniable, pulled at him once more. He reached out, almost as if drawn by the force of her words, but stopped himself just short.

He wanted nothing more than to hold her close to him and never let her go again. To let every thought spill from his lips and confess his love for her as if it were the first time. The warmth of her presence was only growing closer as she stepped further in his direction, her beautifully intoxicating scent stirring memories of their past together. He craved her fiercely—the softness of her lips, the feel of her smooth skin beneath his fingertips, her lovely voice whispering words of love that echoed in his heart.

But the shrinking space between them felt like a chasm born not only of time, but of all the hurt and chaos he had left in his wake. He didn’t deserve her. Not after his failure. Not after what he had done. He couldn't bear to drag her into the darkness of his journey, a path that he believed would only lead to death. She deserved so much more than the ruins of his mistakes.

He imagined the weight of his choices suffocating her, dimming the light that had always drawn him in. Yet as she drew nearer, he could feel the pull of her more acutely, as though the Fade itself conspired to draw them together. The ache of her absence, the torment of his own regret—none of it could dampen the magnetic force that still lingered between them.

"You should hate me," he spoke quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. "After everything I’ve done. All of the pain I have caused."

Lavellan had closed the never-ending distance between them, the air around them thick with an intensity that took her breath away. Her already racing heart quickened, emboldened by a sudden rush, a defiance against the pain that had lingered for far too long. With a trembling hand, she reached for him, her fingertips brushing against his cheek. The connection was electric, sending shivers through her, reigniting a fire that warmed her very core.

In that moment, all his carefully constructed walls began to crumble, melting away beneath her touch. She could see the tension in his shoulders ease, the weight of his regrets momentarily lifting. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, a fragile intimacy that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

It had been years since they last stood face-to-face, their encounters reduced to her lone whispers in her dreams. Each night, she yearned for the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his touch, imagining the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his voice calling her name. The ache of separation had clawed at her heart, and she knew he had felt it too—a longing that transcended the boundaries of their worlds.

"I tried," she confessed, her voice heavy with emotion, barely above a whisper. "I tried to hate you, but I can’t, Vhenan. I could never."

Solas’ resolve crumbled even further, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes undeniable. “I never wanted you to see what I’ve become. I do not deserve your forgiveness,” he pushed further in a weak attempt to suppress the overpowering love that threatened to consume him.

“I know you cannot change what you have done,” She began through her breath, gently placing her prosthetic hand against his armoured chest and meeting his eyes directly, as though reaching into the depths of his heart. “But I see you, Solas. I see the burden you carry, I’ve seen what you hide in your Lighthouse. It hasn’t changed the way I feel about you.”

Her touch unravelled him completely, cutting through the barriers he had so meticulously built to keep her at a distance and protect her. For all the power that pulsed within him, he was utterly powerless before her. His breath was hitched in his throat, his senses overwhelmed and intoxicated by her nearness. All words escaped him, and instead, he clutched her prosthetic hand to his chest, his knuckles brushing the delicate skin of her cheek, drinking in the moment as if it were the last.

The space between the two vanished, the long-forgotten warmth of each other’s touch easing the ache of a lifetime apart. Starved of the love they had once shared, the air around them grew heavy with anticipation. The energy between them hummed, drawing them closer with each breath, until their eyes flitted shut, surrendering to the inevitable pull of their connection.

“Vhenan…” Solas found his voice once more, before the thread which held him together finally snapped and his lips found hers.

The kiss, at first tentative, quickly deepened as the years of distance, longing, and unspoken words melted between them. It wasn’t gentle; it was desperate, filled with the ache of years apart, with the pain of betrayal and the hope of forgiveness. Lavellan’s hands instinctively reached for him, fingers curling against the cool, textured surface of his armour as if he might slip away again, as if this moment might vanish like a fleeting dream. His hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her closer still, like a drowning man grasping for air.

Solas trembled against her, the control he had so precisely maintained for years finally unravelling in her embrace. Every heartbeat, every breath shared in their kiss spoke of the time they had lost and the memories they had clung to in the dark.

He clutched at her waist, tugging her impossibly close, as though she might disappear if he allowed any distance open between them. The taste of her lips—familiar and sweet—sent a rush of emotion surging through his mouth and into his heart, blooming with love. It was a taste he had dreamed of, mixed with grief, regret, and the bittersweet recognition of all the time they could never reclaim.

For Lavellan, kissing him felt like breaking the surface after endless years submerged in sorrow. She had imagined this reunion, longed for it in her loneliest moments, but nothing could have prepared her for the rawness of it now, the intensity of feeling his warmth, his breath, after so long. Her lips moved fervently against his, as if she could anchor them both in the present, as if this kiss could hold them together while the world threatened to crumble around them.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as their spirits reached for one another, desperate to bridge the chasm of all that had been lost. The air around them shimmered with the intensity of their emotions, the soft crackle of magic lingering like static electricity. Tears mingled between their lips, and Lavellan found herself unsure if they were born from her own heartache or Solas’ sorrow.

When at last they reluctantly parted, it was only enough to breathe, their foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. The warmth of Solas’ skin contrasted with the coolness of the Fade around them. His fingers brushed her cheek, wiping away a tear, his eyes searching hers with a mix of reverence and sorrow, as if committing her face to memory all over again.

“I have missed you,” Solas admitted through a trembling breath, his voice fraying at the edges, each syllable thick with longing and vulnerability. “Every moment, I have missed you.”

Lavellan’s heart stilled at his confession, the pain she’d carried for so long softening, giving way to a quiet joy she had scarcely dared to feel. It was real—his yearning, his regret. He had missed her, and in hearing those words, a wave of warmth rushed through her, filling the hollow space his absence had left behind, like sunlight breaking through a dark, heavy cloud.

“As have I,” she whispered, her voice a breath, an ache. “I love you, Solas.”

The distance between them vanished once more as she closed the space with her lips. An electric tangle of desperation and love crackled in the air, as if they could pour every stolen moment of the past ten years into this one kiss. She breathed the words against his lips— Ar lath ma. I love you, I love you, over and over, with each fleeting pause for air. One hand gripped his broad shoulder as though holding onto the thread of the life they might still have together, while the other skimmed gingerly across his sharp jaw, the cool metal of her fingertips shooting a shiver down his spine.

As their lips moved together, she tasted the faint remnants of the Fade on him—like the bittersweet tang of twilight and the warmth of embers long extinguished. The air was thick with unspoken promises, Solas’ scent enveloping her, an earthy blend of ancient forests, fragrant herbs, and a whisper of magic that felt both familiar and achingly distant. Her heart raced, a wild drum echoing in her ears, as she felt the world around them fade into insignificance. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, entwined in a dance of love and longing, the taste of their shared past lingering sweetly on their tongues.

Solas drew a tight breath, his lips forming the words in return, “Ar lath ma, I love you,” each confession fragile and tender, as if speaking it aloud made the moment more real. His hands cupped her face with reverence, fingers tracing the contours of her skin as if rediscovering her all over again, as though he needed to believe this wasn’t some fading dream. She was truly here with him, loving him still, despite all that had come between them. And with each kiss, each murmured promise of love, he felt the final crumbling of the walls he had built to protect himself from this—this undeniable truth that she saw him, truly, as he was: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. And still, she chose him—Solas.

Warm, fresh tears streamed down his cheeks—tears of relief, not of sorrow, and for the first time in an age, he felt lighter, the burden of millennia softening in her embrace.

Lavellan’s fingers traced the familiar lines of his face, feeling the tension in his jaw slowly release. She caught her breath, pressing her forehead gently to his once more, letting the moment wrap around them like a fragile cocoon, holding them together.

They no longer needed words. There was no need for promises, no talk of what came next.

For now, they were simply here—together.

Solas’ hands held her tightly against him, as if memorising every curve of her, grounding himself in her presence, in the warmth of her body pressed to his. He drank in every bit of her, enraptured by the way her eyes sparkled with the tears she had shed. There was no one more beautiful, in body and spirit.

The world beyond them faded into the abyss—no ancient gods, no torn Veil, no crumbling ruins. Just the rhythmic sound of their breaths mingling between them, the quiet beat of their hearts within their chests, steady and sure. For so long, he had dreamed of this, and yet the reality of it was more than he could have ever imagined.

Lavellan clutched him closer, as if to say all the things she couldn’t form with her lips, as if to tell him that here, in this moment, she chose him—not Fen’Harel, not the Dread Wolf. Just Solas.

And as they stayed there, lost in each other, neither knew how long the moment would last—only that, for now, it was enough.

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luvmahae · 11 days ago

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masterlist — previous— next!

the chaos outside of the student union was peak college energy— music blasting from someone’s speaker, groups of students handing out fliers, and shouts about upcoming events echoing through the crowd.

you moved through the crowd with ease, holding onto your iced matcha latte like a lifeline. you weren’t in the mood for small talk or overly eager recruitment pitches because the whole idea of greek life wasn’t for you.

and then it happened.

you turned a corner too quickly and collided with someone, sending a stack of fliers fluttering to the ground like confetti.

“oh my god— i’m so sorry!” you blurt out, already crouching down to help. your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you scramble to pick up the mess.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he says, his voice calm but slightly rushed.

you both kneel on the ground, grabbing at the scattered fliers. your fingers brush against his as you reach for the same one, and you glance up. it’s a quick look, just long enough to notice the varsity jacket he’s wearing. the letters ΝΧΘ are boldly embroidered on the right side of his chest, and just beneath them, his name is stitched in smaller, cleaner lettering. lee haechan #231

your stomach twists. that name—it’s too familiar. your heart skips as you stare at him, the pieces clicking together in your mind. the summer festival. the hookup. the blue basketball jersey.

“haechan?” you said, the name tumbling out before you could think twice.

he freezes, the last of the fliers in his hand. slowly, he looks up, and his eyes meet yours. for a second, there’s confusion on his face, like he’s trying to place you. then it happens—the smirk. that cocky, teasing smirk you’d recognize anywhere.

“hey... you!” he says, his tone overly enthusiastic, the kind you use when you’re covering something up.

your brows knit together. you? that’s what he’s going with? unbelievable. “you don’t remember me, do you?” you ask, tilting your head as you stand up.

“what? of course i do!” he says quickly, standing too. “it’s… uh…” he gestures vaguely as if your name might magically appear out of thin air. “it’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”

you cross your arms over your chest, arching a brow. “a minute? edc was like 3 months ago. i wouldn’t expect you to remember me anyway.”

that throws him off. he blinks, his grin faltering just slightly. “of course i remember you from john summit’s set,” he says, his voice almost too smooth. “i mean, to be fair, we didn’t really do much… talking… if you know what i mean.” his eyes flicker nervously, but the way he says it with that same teasing grin feels like he’s trying to cover up something.

you raise an eyebrow, leaning in just a little. “oh, i know exactly what you mean,” you reply, voice laced with amusement. you can feel the heat of that memory flooding back. the way you both were so lost in each other, high off the music and the moment, eyes locked like you were in some kind of trance.

haechan shifts uncomfortably, but his grin stays. “yeah…i mean, who could forget that?” he says quickly, like he’s trying to recover, but you can see the slight nervousness in his eyes.

you smirk, crossing your arms over your chest, your gaze sharp and knowing. you tilt your head slightly, letting the silence stretch for just a beat before you utter, “uh-huh. so what’s my name then?”

he laughs, though it’s a bit strained now. “i swear, you’re making me sound like a total jerk right now.”

you raise an eyebrow, your smile turning dry and knowing. “not at all,” you reply, your voice flat but laced with playful sarcasm. the smile at the edges of your lips teases him, just enough to keep him on his toes.

he lets out a soft laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “alright, alright. i’m definitely not the best at remembering names, but i swear, i remember you.”

you raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “do you now?”

he gives you that familiar, slightly cocky grin, though there’s a flicker of something else behind it. “yeah, absolutely. just, uh, give me a hint?”

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "hmm, maybe if you can get that little brain of yours to work, you’ll figure it out. well anyways, i’ll see you around maybe.”

you give him a small, playful wave before turning on your heel and walking away, leaving haechan standing there, completely caught off guard. his eyes follow you for a moment, brows furrowed, trying to process what just happened. he opens his mouth as if to say something, but no words come out. it’s almost like you’ve thrown him off his usual game, and for once, he’s left without a comeback.

you walk off with a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, feeling a mix of amusement and satisfaction. you can almost hear him still trying to piece together your name, the frustration written all over his face.

as you round the corner, you glance back once, just to see him standing there, still a little lost in thought, probably overthinking the whole thing. you shake your head, trying to hold back a laugh. you’ll let him stew on it for a while.

wc: 880 :D

notes: did yall expect me to write this chapter or nah... bc surprise! YIPEE!!! its only chapter 3 too... anyways finally miss y/n and haechan meet! highly suggest listening to mr. useless in the playlist while u read this bc the song literally represents the situation between those two deadass

taglist: @4amirwin @wonbin-truther @hearts4hee @jungaji @sundamariis @urlovelily @n0hyuck @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @luvvhaechan @douqhnxtss @tynlvr @blamingontheboogie @haesluvr @hcluvie @pinknjm @nanaxwi @catpjimin @slayhaechan @awktwurtle @myfavoritedelusion @stqrgr7 @t-102 @jianreadsaus @haechanhues @gomdoleemyson @hyuckmoon @haechology @mystverse @hyuckies18

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snowysosturn · 3 months ago

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Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 24

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, memory loss, mentions of cheating

I sat on the edge of the couch, my phone plugged into the wall while I clutched it tightly in my hand. My thumb hovered over the screen, re reading the last message I sent to Nick.

“Hey Nick. Sorry for the text, but I was wondering if you’d want to hang out sometime? I’m trying to figure some stuff out, and maybe you could help me fill in some gaps.”

I didn’t want to sound too desperate, but the truth was, I needed answers. It had been over a week since I left the hospital, and I still felt like I was floating in some sort of different dimension, stuck between a life I couldn't remember and the reality I was trying to piece together. Alex had been acting so strange, so distant, like he wasn’t even the same person I knew. But Nick.. he felt safe. Familiar, even though I didn’t remember him.

The knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts, and my heart sped up. I quickly set the phone down and opened the door. Nick stood there, hands in his pockets, giving me a small, reassuring smile.

“Hey” he said softly, stepping inside. "I came as fast as I could."

I gave him a weak smile back. "Thanks for coming. I know this must be weird for you."

“It’s not weird at all" Nick replied, shaking his head. "Well, I mean, it’s strange, but it’s fine.. I’m just glad you reached out."

I sat next to him, curling my legs beneath me as I tried to relax. It was comforting having Nick there, even if I couldn’t remember him fully. There was something familiar in his presence, like I’d leaned on him before without knowing it.

“How are you holding up?” Nick asked after a moment, glancing over at me, his eyes full of concern.

I sighed heavily. “Honestly? I just feel so lost. Alex.. he’s not how I remember him. He’s different. Distant. He doesn’t really.. help, you know? I feel like I’m on my own with everything, and when I ask for help, he just brushes me off. It’s like he’s a stranger living in my house. I don’t understand what’s happening, or why he’s acting like this. I keep thinking.. if it were him, if he were in my place, I would be there for him. I wouldn’t just leave him to figure it all out on his own.”

Nick frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s not right, Y/n. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Especially not with Alex acting like that.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. “Do you remember anything about me and Alex? Like.. were we happy? I mean, before all of this happened?”

Nick hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. “I remember you two being together, yeah. But it wasn’t exactly.. smooth. Things between you guys were kind of rocky the last few months.”

My chest tightened at his words. “Rocky? How so?”

Before Nick could answer, the sound of the front door opening cut him off. We both turned to see Alex walk in, and behind him, a girl with a forced smile followed closely. I blinked, confusion flooding my mind as Alex strolled in like nothing was wrong, like there wasn’t a weird tension hanging in the air after bringing a random girl into our home unannounced.

“Hey, Y/n.. Nick..” Alex said casually, his voice light and easy, completely ignoring the awkwardness of the moment. “This is Emily. You remember her, right? I’ve mentioned her throughout our whole relationship.”

I stared at the girl beside him, my mind trying to place her face. She smiled, but there was something unsettling about the way she looked at me, like she was sizing me up. Emily. The name sparked something, but it was faint.

“Hi, Y/n” Emily said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet.

Her words felt hollow, like they didn’t mean anything. I forced a smile, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Emily.. Wait the girl who you were friends with when you were younger?” I shifted awkwardly on the couch, glancing at Nick, whose jaw was clenched tightly.

Alex seemed completely unfazed by the strangeness of the situation. He dropped his keys on the counter, looking so at ease with Emily by his side. “Yeah my childhood best friend” Alex added, his tone light, like it was no big deal. “We’d all been hanging out a lot lately, I’m sure it’ll all come back to you.”

I tried to nod, but my mind felt scrambled. Childhood best friend? When the hell did she come back here? I knew the name through previous conversations, but why did this feel off? Why did it feel like there was more to the story?

“Yeah.. maybe..” I mumbled, glancing back at Nick, who was still sitting there, stiff as a board. He was watching Alex and Emily closely, like he was trying to figure out the punchline to some sick joke.

“I just came by to drop something off” Alex said, moving around the apartment like he owned the place. “We’ll probably head out later.”

I froze at his words, my stomach flipping. We’ll head out later? I looked at Emily again, her smile still plastered on her face, but it felt so fake. The room suddenly felt too small, the air thick with something I couldn’t quite name.

Nick shifted beside me, his hand tightening into a fist as he stared hard at Alex. I could feel his tension, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. But no one was saying anything.

I couldn’t help it. I glanced at Nick, the question burning in my eyes. Did I miss something here?

Nick gave me a tight lipped smile, but the tension in his jaw told me more than his words ever could.

Something was off. Not just with Alex, but with this whole situation.

And the worst part? I had no idea what it was.

Nick's POV

I sat on the edge of Matt’s bed, my mind still reeling from everything he had told me. I thought I understood how he felt about Y/n, thought it was just a crush that had spiraled out of control. But hearing him confess how deeply he loved her, it hit me like a ton of bricks. He’d been carrying all this pain, this guilt, and I’d never even noticed how far it went. The way he spoke about her, like every moment they shared was burned into his memory, made me realize just how much he was hurting.

"I loved her, Nick. I love her." His voice echoed in my head, still thick with emotion. I could hear the pain behind his words, how much he regretted everything. The way he described their connection, the little things he remembered about her, it all just made the weight of what had happened feel even heavier.

As much as I wanted to help him, I didn’t know how. I couldn’t fix what had happened, couldn’t change the choices he’d made. But I could be there for him, and that’s exactly what I planned to do. I couldn’t let Matt drown in this guilt, couldn’t let him continue beating himself up for something that wasn’t entirely his fault.

I left his room, telling him I’d let him know how things went with Y/n when I got back home later. But before I left I knew I needed to talk to Chris. If anyone could pull Matt out of this slump, it was him, he had this way of making everything seem a little less serious. We both agreed that Matt needed to get out of his own head, to be around people who cared about him.

“We gotta get him moving, gotta get him out of the house.” Chris said, his tone light but serious. “I’ll take him out to look for bunk beds or something, we’ve been saying we wanted to get some to do multiple day streams..hopefully it’ll get him motivated. I’ll promise him McDonald’s after, and we can play some video games when we get back. Anything to get him out of bed and doing something.”

I nodded, grateful that Chris was always up for something like this. We both knew that Matt needed a distraction, even if it was just for a little while. The longer he stayed cooped up, the worse it would get.

Thankfully Matt agreed to it, I’m hoping the fact he let everything out is making him feel better. While they headed out to search for bunk beds, I called an Uber and made my way to Y/n’s place. The whole ride over, I couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in my head about Alex and Emily. Knowing what I did now about their affair made me feel sick. The nerve of Alex to parade back into Y/n’s life like nothing had happened, acting like everything was fine when he’d been sneaking around behind her back the whole time. It was infuriating, and the worst part was that Y/n didn’t remember any of it. I didn’t know if it was my place to tell her the truth. How could I? It felt like ripping open an old wound that had barely started to heal.

When I got to Y/n's place, the air felt heavy, like something was off even before I stepped inside. She opened the door and greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, something I was starting to notice more and more lately. Her wrist was still in a brace, and I could see the exhaustion across her face, but she was trying to hold it together.

We sat down on the couch, and she didn’t waste any time before opening up about Alex. "I just feel so lost. Alex.. he’s not how I remember him. He’s different. Distant. He doesn’t really.. help, you know? I feel like I’m on my own with everything, and when I ask for help, he just brushes me off. It’s like he’s a stranger living in my house. I don’t understand what’s happening, or why he’s acting like this. I keep thinking.. if it were him, if he were in my place, I would be there for him. I wouldn’t just leave him to figure it all out on his own.."

Her voice cracked, and I could see the confusion and hurt in her eyes. She didn’t understand why the man she thought she loved was acting so cold toward her.

She looked at me, almost pleading, like she wanted answers I couldn’t give her. Do you remember anything about me and Alex? Like.. were we happy? I mean, before all of this happened?”

I froze. My mind raced, trying to find the right words, but nothing felt right. I couldn’t tell her the truth, not like this. She had no idea what Alex had done behind her back, and now wasn’t the time to drop that bomb. I knew she was already dealing with so much, and this would only make it worse. But not telling her also felt wrong.

“I… I don’t know,” I finally said, feeling like a coward. “I remember you two being together, yeah. But it wasn’t exactly.. smooth. Things between you guys were kind of rocky the last few months.” I hated myself for giving such a weak answer, but it wasn’t my place to tell her the truth. Not yet.

“Rocky? How so?” She asked.

But before I could say anything else, the front door swung open. I turned around, and there they were. Alex and Emily. Laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. It was like a punch to the gut, seeing them together like that, knowing what I knew now. They had the audacity to act like nothing was wrong, to hang out right under Y/n’s nose.

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my anger in check. I could feel the tension rise in the room, and I wasn’t sure if it was just me or if Y/n could feel it too. Alex barely even acknowledged her as he walked in, his arm casually brushing against Emily’s as they made their way into the kitchen.

I could see Y/n’s confusion deepen as she watched them, and it took everything in me to not curse that mother fucker out there and then. Part of me wanted to jump across that coffee table and rangle the fuck out of them both.

I didn’t know if it was my place to tell Y/n the truth about Alex and Emily. But one thing I knew for sure, she needed to get out of this house, and fast. This was too much of a toxic environment for her, too damaging for someone who was already trying to rebuild her life.

“Do you want to come back to my place for a while? It’s a bit quieter than it is here.. And I’ve a few new things I’d love to show you.”

She looked at me, uncertainty flickering in her eyes but agreeing in the end. But I could see she was tired. Tired of the confusion, the lies, the tension. She didn’t need to be in the middle of this mess.

Matt and Chris were out, so I knew it would be fine to bring her back to my place without upsetting anyone. She deserved peace, and I was going to make sure she got it, even if I couldn’t tell her everything right now.

a/n: we got a nick povvvvvv ooooowa ooooooowa (its 12:21am ill proof read tomorrow lol)

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel l @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo @freshythefishy @witchofthehour @stvrnlover @alizestvrnss @beachbabe000 @pinkdyit @pvssychicken @starkeyszn

#snowy speaks #speeding car #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

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azrielbrainrot · 4 months ago

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: You struggle to come to terms with your supposed death, everything you've had and everything you've lost, all the blood that stains your hands, a mating bond, and most importantly, finding your place in the world after all of it.

Warnings: Feelings of depression, suicide ideation, a hint of social anxiety and agoraphobia, awful self image, all around angst sorry, some depictions of violence

Word Count: 6860

Notes: I actually got a little too lost in my head writing this chapter but it ended up being somewhat cathartic writing my feelings through someone else's. It ended up taking me longer than expected to finish this part though, I'm sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy!

Part 7

You can feel him sitting by your door. Even if the deafening mating bond weren't screaming in elation at his proximity, the enhanced senses you've exhausted yourself training for in that Gods forsaken guild would have let you know. You don't deserve any of it. Not his worry, not his loyalty or his love, certainly not the bond. Maybe you had, a long time ago, but that female was ripped away from you, from him.

The shadowsinger probably paints a tragic picture. Sitting on the cold floor, back against the closed, heavy door, hunched over his own body, powerful wings laying by his sides, waiting for a selfish mate who will not open the door no matter how much he pleads or how long he waits, who can barely bring herself to get out of bed, let alone face the male whose life she brought nothing but ruin and heartache.

Ever since Rhys tore down the walls keeping your memories away, there has been a war raging inside you, one in which there will be no victors. It has been eating you away from the inside. You feel like two people have lived in this body before, led completely different lives, and have now abandoned it for you to deal with the scraps and somehow put the pieces back together.

It's almost impossible to keep up with the passing of time as you are. Weeks, maybe even months could have passed since that day. There was a sense of relief when the walls first came crumbling down, even happiness when you saw Azriel and recognized him as the male you loved beyond words, but everything else rushed into your mind the next moment and rendered you speechless.

One moment you had been sitting in Azriel's lap, and in the next the breath was knocked out of your lungs, and a deep ache spread over your body. It felt like your entire being was on fire and drowning at the same time as you saw numerous people die at your hands. It felt foreign, you felt foreign. You started clawing at your own skin, trying to get that hateful person out, ripping your flesh apart desperately. You don't remember what happened next, though you vaguely recall Azriel's anguished screams. Rhys had probably come and rendered you unconscious, effectively calming you down and giving you what must have been the last peaceful night of sleep since then.

You don't know who you are anymore. You can't be sure if you ever did. All those years ago, when you married Azriel, you thought you knew exactly who you were, what your values and aspirations were, how you'd spend your life. You had plans and dreams. It all feels like one giant, heartbreakingly realistic fantasy now, like that life in itself was an idealistic dream.

Looking back now, you know you had simply been sheltered. You had led a privileged life, protected by your parents when they were alive and then by Azriel. Because the person you so easily became when Norris took you had to be living under your skin all along, waiting for an opportunity to show her claws. Someone can't do even half of the things you've done if they had been truly good to begin with. Norris had simply coaxed this hateful, bloodthirsty monster out of you.

Perhaps you should have thanked him before you killed him, if it weren't for him you would have kept living that lie until your last breath. You would have tried tampering it down until you couldn't anymore, until that vile thing ripped open your skin, escaped its bounds and destroyed everything in its path. Would you have hurt Azriel if you had stayed? Killed his entire family in cold blood? The family who took you in like you were one of their own, who were there for you to show you love and happiness when you thought you had lost everything with your parents' deaths.

And what now? Which one were you now, if any at all? You know you're far from the starry eyed female who walked these halls a century ago, arm looped into her loving husband's, who was ready to face any challenge that was put in front of her so long as he stayed by her side. Who dreamt of buying a house and decorating it to both of their tastes, who planned a life by his side down to the last detail. In sickness and in health, in life and in death. What a joke.

The fearless killer was a stranger to you as well. She'd committed atrocities with this body, soaked your hands in blood, but she at least had a purpose, even if she hadn't been the one to find it for herself. The guild trained her, made her strong, and gave her missions. Her life had some sort of meaning, one even she wasn't proud of, no matter how many times she forced herself to emulate her handler, swallow down the guilt that threatened to eat her whole, but a meaning nonetheless. When she eventually snapped she would become one of the few who had been stupid enough to try and escape the guild, maybe even try to paint her blade with Norris' blood. That alone would have meant something, if only a whispered rumor across the guild's low ranks in between missions.

All you were now was a ghost. Slowly fading into the wallpaper, sinking into the bed. Spending your days staring into space, consumed by your own betraying thoughts, suffering through your nights as nightmares reigned free inside your brain. The worst part is they weren't simply nightmares. They were memories, your memories. You had lived through every single haunting image being shown to you. The blood coating your body, covering you in a sickenly metallic smell, had been spilled by your masterful blade, and you had walked away from every single one of those lifeless bodies, leaving them behind without a care as you searched for your handler once more, giving him news of yet another successful mission and awaiting a new one, a new life for you to take.

A sudden knock on the door brings you back to the present, somewhat. Your head turning to face the door, the first movement in a while judging by the ache that follows it. The knock had been soft, careful not to startle you - he's always so careful with you, even after everything, - but in the deafening silence of the room, it still echoed, making your headache worse.

Azriel calls your name, the way the syllables escape his lips sending a shiver down your spine. Even in this state the bond finds a way to make itself known, reminding you of the connection between the two of you, as if you could ever forget.

“I know you can hear me,” he murmurs. You can hear how defeated he is, how sad you've made him once again. It's all your fault, it's always your fault. “Like I told you yesterday, I'm here for you. I will help you through anything as long as you let me, as long as you want me by your side.”

He pauses for a moment, in case you'll give him a response for once. You envy his hope. If you had the courage to hope for even a second maybe you would have called out his name and invited him in, let him hold you in his warm embrace, and make it better, but hope had died along with you and you didn't know how to get it back, didn't know if you wanted to.

A pained sigh escapes him, resigning himself, for the night at least. “I'll come back tomorrow, and every day after that. I promise I will be here when you need me.” You hear him swallow, can feel him trying to steady his voice and keep strong for you in a time when you can't find any strength in yourself. “I love you, more than anything.”

His soft steps retreat, slowly dragging his body away from your door so he can go into his own room and lay in his own empty bed, far away from the wife who he thought he had just gotten back after a century but can't bring herself to even look at him.

The bond screams in your chest, a piercing sound that could make your ears bleed at its intensity. A tear escapes your unblinking eye, running down your skin until it loses its path as it reaches your ear, ultimately falling into the mattress. And still you don't move.

You study the lifeless body in front of you, inspecting the female's beautiful kohl lined brown eyes as they stare right at you unblinking. Listening for the sound of her breath or heartbeat, a sound you know will not come, never again. She had on an elegant silk dress, it was once a shade of green, now tainted with red. She was probably going to meet someone - her friends or her lover, maybe her family. Whoever it was wouldn't see her again, would only be left with bittersweet memories.

Reaching over her, you pull the blade still stuck in her chest out in one smooth, heartless movement. As you go to clean the blood off so you can put it away and escape, you take note of the knife in your hand, frowning down at it as you study the hilt, too intricate to belong to your standard knives. There was even a blue gem encrusted on it, you had never seen let alone owned anything like this.

Looking up, you find strangely familiar hazel eyes staring at you, unblinking as that female's had been. Your eyes travel to the knife in your hand once again as your brain races to keep up with the situation. It's coated in blood, you hadn't wiped it yet, so were your hands, there was so much blood. Your breath catches in your throat when you find a wedding ring around your finger, the blue gem shining under the moonlight.

The knife falls from your hands. Tears cloud your vision, a broken sob escaping you. Azriel. The corpse in front of you belonged to Azriel. You killed him. You killed your husband, your mate. It was all your fault.

You open your eyes with a gasping breath as if you'd been stuck under water. The image of your dead mate refusing to leave your mind as tears keep running down your cheeks, chest rising and falling as if you'd been physically running from this nightmare. It takes you quite a while to fully come to and realize where you were - sitting up in your bed, and not in an empty alley with a dead body at your feet.

It takes you even longer to notice you were not alone anymore. Wide eyes find teary, hazel ones searching your face frantically. As soon as you see him, it becomes impossible to ignore the way his rough hands hold you up, the soothing words he whispers even when he himself looks terrified

Unlike in that awful nightmare, Azriel stood before you breathing. He was blinking, and his heart was beating. Azriel was alive. He was right in front of you and he was alive. You hadn't killed him. The realization finally allows you to catch your breath, the weight at the base of your skull subsiding as you repeat the words over and over in your mind, counting the beats of his heart as you did.

The relief was short-lived though. The reminder that you had stabbed him in real life not so differently from how it happened in your dream making you reel back, back crashing into the headboard hard enough that it almost knocked the wind out of you, his hands dropping from their comforting grip on your head, the heartbroken expression on his face intensifying.

You're both frozen like that for a few seconds, your wide eyes watching his every movement as he stood kneeling down in front of you, hands stuck in the same place like you hadn't moved from under them. Even in the midst of all the chaos taking your mind hostage, you noticed the fear in his eyes. Was he afraid of you? He should be. Though you're not so sure that was the case since he tried reaching for you again as soon as he was pulled out of his stupor.

It makes you recoil even further into the headboard, a sob escaping you, recalling the image of his lifeless body playing in your dream and the way his blood stained your skin in the townhouse only a few weeks ago.

Tears flow down your cheeks with a new vigor when he calls out your name, an heartbreaking sound. You remember how much you loved to hear him whisper your name in that low, sweet timbre of his. It makes your chest tighten uncomfortably, until you can barely breathe now.

“Please leave,” you manage to push out.

“Wait.”

“You can't be here.”

Wrapping your arms around your legs, you hope he listens. You can't hurt him anymore than you already have, couldn't bear to live with yourself if you did, and for that you need him to go, need him to be out of your tainting reach.

“Please, my love. Let me take care of you,” he begs, his own tears escaping freely now.

My love. The way he says it so carefully, so sure of himself makes you sob harder. You don't deserve his love, his attention or care, you never did. And he doesn't deserve any of this pain, so you need him to go, you have to push him away.

“I can't…” Why are the words so hard to say? Why can't you just tell him to go and never come back? “Please,” you manage through a sob, an ugly sound in the back of your throat, hiding your face in your knees.

Azriel closes his eyes, salty tears running down his heartbroken face. He tightens his grip on the sheets for a moment, hard enough that his knuckles turn white. Telling himself to stay, or maybe forcing himself to accept your dismissal.

“I'll go,” he whispers out after a while, opening his eyes at last, defeated, “but if you need me just call out and I'll be back in a heartbeat, alright?”

You don't answer him, your entire concentration going into keeping your eyes off him. Trying desperately to push not only the haunting nightmare down, but also the mating bond, who demanded you seek comfort from your mate while you were trying so hard to push him away.

He gets up slowly, dragging his feet as he walks to the door, looking back at you multiple times as if he can't bear to leave you alone like this, as if begging you to call him back, but you've made your decision and you won't call out to him no matter how desperate you are.

“I was thinking it would be a good idea to bring you up to Rhys' cabin for a few days. You can stay in your room or go outside on your own, and I promise you won't even have to see me if you don't want to,” Azriel explains tentatively through the closed door. “It wouldn't be much different from being here except you could take in the fresh air of the mountain. You always used to love it up there, said it helped you think more clearly.”

This conversation hadn't come out of nowhere and it certainly wasn't entirely about a simple change of scenery - though you wouldn't be surprised if it doubled as a way of trying to get out of this room if nothing else. They were unsure about keeping you in this house, in Velaris even. You overheard part of their discussion on the subject, the tricks you've learned at the guild proving themselves useful at least as you approached the room without them noticing.

You had been curious when you felt most of the inner circle's presence in the house. For a moment, you had even panicked, thinking they would try to talk to you, maybe a form of intervention, but when it was clear they would all keep their distance, you couldn't stop yourself from eavesdropping on their conversation. You had already known it would be about you, or maybe the guild, for them to gather up in the House of Wind.

Given your current apathy and insistence on distancing yourself from everyone, they were worried about keeping you so high up in the mountain. No one had actually said the words, but the implication was clear, - if you so wished, all you had to do was open the window and let yourself fall through the wind, finding your sweet release as you crashed into the ground. And, even with some of their vehement denials, it was painfully obvious that they were all scared of it becoming a reality.

They had moved onto the topic of moving you off Velaris as well, almost at Azriel's insistence. They thought the city could be too suffocating for you since you seemed to want to be alone with your thoughts. And so the idea of moving you to the cabin for a while came up at Feyre's suggestion. You zoned out when they started trying to decide on the best way to bring it up to you, knowing you would refuse the offer no matter how it was brought up. The thought of making the trip there was exhausting on its own.

Azriel's shadows had definitely noticed you spying on the inner circle. You saw them swirling by your hiding spot in the hallway multiple times, lingering for a moment before moving closer to the door. You can't be sure if they had not alerted their singer out of their own volition, or if he had chosen to let you hear the conversation.

You knew he would be more than happy for you to step into the office and speak for yourself, but you barely had to give it any thought to decide against it. You didn't see the point in it. They were right about your lack of will to be alive. You genuinely couldn't bring yourself to care if you were in this house or the next, in Velaris or on the other side of the world, if they were the ones to decide it or not so long as they left you alone.

Truthfully, you didn't quite see the point in living either, and at the same time killing yourself felt like too much of a hassle. Not to mention that Azriel wouldn't survive your death this time, and hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do. Just the thought sent the bond into disarray, a weight growing in your chest and taking your breath away.

You hadn't spoken more than a few sentences to Azriel in all the weeks you've been here so you obviously haven't told him about the bond. The downside of that is that you don't know if he's felt it himself either. He has been devoted to you to say the least, but he always had, even before you died. Azriel always treated you like you were his entire world.

As if processing all your memories wasn't enough, the bond had somehow made things even more complicated. Every happy memory of the two of you together sent the bond almost vibrating with joy, pushing you to go and see him when all you wanted to do was disappear in this room. It makes you feel like you're not fully in charge of your body, just as it felt like watching back your memories at the guild.

“What do you think?”

His voice brings you back to the present once more. Your eyes finding the closed door, imagining him leaning against it on the other side, forehead leaning against the dark, carved wood, praying for an answer he knows won't come.

You consider saying something, to at least let him know you wanted to stay here just as you were, but your body wasn't agreeing with you, refusing to move or form out the words even if you were asking it to. You knew it would be better to refuse his offer, not only because you knew he wouldn't force you to leave if you told him you didn't want to, but also because hearing you speak after so long could lessen their worries, his worries. Still, you couldn't force yourself to even move your mouth.

Azriel lets out a sigh, that heartbreakingly defeated sound you've grown so used to, taking your silence as an answer. You hear him swallow, pushing back the tears and the heaviness you could almost feel in your own heart.

“It's alright,” he breathes out, “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

Alright. You were starting to grow a distaste for the word. How could it be alright when you've done nothing but hurt him? You disappeared on him for decades on decades, making him think you were dead while you were off killing people for money. Only to come back and try to steal from Rhys, stab him and then ignore him after they helped you recover your memories. He has been sitting at your doorstep multiple hours a day for weeks without getting as much as an answer. How is any of this alright?

You wish he would just forget about you. Maybe then you wouldn't feel so guilty for all you've done.

If it weren't for the magic pumping through this house your bath would have been freezing cold by now. The perfectly warm, lavender scented water the House provided almost pissed you off, and so did the oils and balms it presented you, urging you to take care of yourself when it was the last thing on your mind.

You've spent hours in the ostentatious tub, scrubbing your skin raw. Desperately trying to get rid of the disgust you felt every time you looked down at your own hands, always finding them covered in blood no matter how many times you washed them. Some things can't be washed out with anything, and you can't undo the things you've done.

After wishing to recover your memories so fiercely, you can't believe you find yourself wishing you could forget everything all over again, the happy and awful ones alike. Every time you remember your short marriage with Azriel, you end up reminding yourself of all the things you've done, of how much you didn't deserve even a second of the happiness he brought you during those years.

You remember when Azriel confided in you about the guilt he felt for the things he's done. You'd always soothe him as best as you could, thinking you could understand how he feels, telling him you'd always love him no matter what. It makes you cringe just to think how naive you were.

Everything Azriel had done had been by the High Lord's orders - unfortunately including Rhysand's father - but, whether it was the best solution or not, it was all for the good of the Night Court and its people. And even then you couldn't have imagined what that burden felt like on his back. You had fought before, helped them keep the court safe, but had hardly ever killed anyone, only getting that far when it was strictly necessary.

Now you had lost count of how many people's lives had ended by your hand, or you wish you had at least. Your nightmares insist on showing you every single person, one after the other playing incessantly in your mind. Now you know what it felt like to be on the other end of the conversation.

Letting out a sigh, you submerge yourself underwater, hoping to drown out your thoughts for even a moment. You almost felt bored today, which shouldn't come as a surprise since you've done virtually nothing in weeks, but given your current disposition it certainly was something new. It almost makes you wish you had accepted Azriel's offer of taking you up to Rhys' cabin though you still weren't sure you could make the trip there. The only way to leave this house was by having someone fly you down, which is probably why they keep you here in the first place.

It could be completely unrelated to your mood, but Azriel hadn't come by today. He warned you there was something important he needed to do when he left the night before. He rarely leaves your side these days, always sitting by your door or in the room next to yours, keeping his promise of being a simple shout away, so you know it had to be about the guild or the general safety of Velaris for Rhys to actually manage to convince him to stay longer than a few hours away from you.

Curiosity got the best of you, asking the question out loud while he was informing you through the door before you could stop yourself. He didn't answer right away, probably too surprised at hearing your voice after weeks of silence, so you didn't even realize you had asked it out loud at first.

When the shock wore off, he told you there were some suspicious movements close to the Hewn City, the smile noticeable in his voice despite the safety threat he was describing. Routine checks like these never took him too long, and with the added situation you were in, he would likely be back by the early hours of the morning.

You couldn't call them conversations at all, but hearing Azriel talk to you, sometimes to tell you about his day, telling you old stories or even new ones, the important moments you've missed in recent years, helped you not feel so empty somehow. As much as you were desperately trying to distance yourself and lay forgotten alone in this room, the fact that he wouldn't allow you to do it brought you a sense of relief.

These feelings were too confusing, wanting complete opposite things like this. You needed to be alone, were always just shy of a panic attack when you so much as caught a glimpse of anyone or heard their voice, but it was starting to feel like you still wanted them to reach out a hand dispute it all.

Your lungs start to burn after being left with no air for so long. You consider just letting it run out, put yourself out of this misery, but your hands reach for the sides of the tub, pulling yourself out of the water, air filling your lungs once again, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. Even this you couldn't do right.

Getting out of the tub and cleaning yourself off with a fluffy towel, you move to walk out into the bedroom, but hesitate for a moment, glancing at the calming oils the house left you on top of the counter. You've scrubbed at your skin so much it's irritated and slightly itchy, the oil could help soothe it so you didn't end up scratching at yourself all night.

One of the oils smelled like lavender too, so maybe with a little luck and nothing else disturbing you, it would help you relax enough for you to get at least a few hours of sleep without any unwanted nightmares waking you up right away. You felt exhausted down to the bone, and wanted nothing more than a little dreamless peace, so you picked up the oil for once.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, you search through the closet, finding it full of your old things. There was more than what Azriel had shown you before, when you still couldn't recognize any of them, a lot more in fact, it looked like he hardly got rid of anything. There were also things the rest of your friends must have saved from that time.

You hadn't stopped to think about what happened to everything you owned when you died, too consumed with every other thought. It seems everyone ended up keeping a piece of you for themselves, Azriel keeping as much as he could, desperately so.

Rummaging through the boxes, you pick up a necklace Cassian had bought for you as a Solstice present. It was simple in nature, but the blue stone hanging from it was absolutely gorgeous. He had been very proud of this find, and later that night Azriel had told you all about how he had begged Mor to help him get something special for you, since he wasn't too good at buying gifts for people but wanted your first Solstice with Azriel to go without a single misstep.

The necklace holds a nostalgic weight as you put it around your neck, letting it sit as you look through the rest of your things. There was a lot more jewelry in these boxes since you always had a love for shiny things, and Rhysand didn't have any sort of restraint when it came to his money. Once he had bought you an entire collection of gold, sapphire encrusted jewelry for Solstice, one that would have embarrassed you had you not given him an extremely rare cologne that same night. You even had to employ the help of Azriel's shadows to find it. Finding gifts for the High Lord was always an adventure.

Picking up one of the many decorated daggers the inner circle, including your mate, had gifted you over the years, you find it's the first dagger Amren gave you. It hadn't been a solstice or birthday gift, she had simply decided you needed it after an attack. You had more than enough daggers, even more if you went through Azriel's collection, but her giving it to you was a sign that she cared, in her own way. You had almost started crying in Azriel's arms when you realized the ancient, terrifying creature cared about you later that night.

Most of your expensive clothes seemed to be hanging in this closet as well, and almost all had either been gifted by Mor or you had bought them when you were shopping together. You wonder for a second if any of the old stores you used to visit were still open. You're also not entirely sure if you'd like any of the things you used to, dressing in color felt foreign to you now.

Even from your position on the ground, you knew the carefully wrapped dress hanging in the closet had to be your wedding dress, the thought making your mouth go dry. You thumb at your ring finger unconsciously, finding it empty. You had lost your wedding ring, Azriel couldn't have kept it since you had it on when you died. You find yourself wishing you still had it, as undeserving as you were of something so special.

Memories of the ceremony rush into your head, bringing tears to your eyes, it truly had been the happiest day of your life. You wonder if you would have still married him if you had known what was to come. Selfishly, you think you would.

You have to tear your eyes away from the garment, making your way through the boxes sitting at the bottom of the dresser once more to distract yourself. There were so many random things in here, even bookmarks and cookie cutters. He truly has kept anything that reminded him of you.

In the middle of it is sitting a dandelion preserved in resin. Azriel had given it to you when you told him you missed looking at the fields full of them as you sat under the trees when you were a child, finding the most comfortable looking one to take a nap. You used to keep it by your bedside, and looking over to the empty nightstand you think you might start doing it again.

At the bottom of the box were a few letters, a copy of your contract with Rhysand, letters your parents had written, and a few you wrote for Azriel. There was one in particular that came to mind. You search for it, knowing the inscription and date written on the envelope by heart. When you find it among the others, you open it slowly, hands shaking as you do.

You had written this letter for Azriel after he proposed to you, leaving it on his pillow for him to find one night. It had always been easier for you to write your feelings rather than saying them out loud, and so you had decided to do just that, pouring your heart out into the pages.

Reading through it brought tears to your eyes, sobbing silently at her precious feelings. No matter how naive or innocent she was, one thing you can't deny was that her love for Azriel was always real, your love for Azriel. You find yourself agreeing with every word you had written all those years ago, even when you felt unworthy of it. You still loved him as much as you did before, there's no point in denying that.

You don't know how many times you read the letter or for how long you sit on that floor, holding onto the dandelion Azriel immortalized for you, crying at everything you've lost, and everything you still have.

When Azriel comes by that night you find yourself opening the door, only wide enough for you to be able to reach your hand out, but it sets his heart beating dangerously fast nonetheless, the rush of happiness traveling through the bond somehow. You hand him the letter silently, and almost thank the gods when he carefully accepts it without touching you, without question, before closing the door back up.

You've never been good at explaining your feelings, much less when your head is as messy as it is now, but you hope he understands what you want to say with this gesture, you want him to know you still love him, that you always will. Judging by the way he starts audibly crying, much like you had been hours prior, you think he does, and, for the first time in weeks, those sounded like happy tears.

It's hard to say where the sudden courage came from, but your body moves before you have the chance to ignore it or talk yourself out of it. Getting out of bed and almost throwing yourself into the bath, letting the scented wash take away all the lingering cold sweats left behind by yet another nightmare.

Drying yourself off, and throwing on one of the dresses Mor had left for you quickly. She truly knew you well, even this warped version of you. The black dress was simple enough, although somehow too intricate for the dinner you were about to interrupt at the time, but it was beautiful.

She had come by your room not long ago, calling out your name softly, but unfortunately still scaring you in the process, unused to company as you were. The obvious panic shown by your heartbeat made her pause for a moment but it didn't completely deter her as she left a bag full of new clothes at your door, lingering only long enough to write out a note explaining she wanted you to have some updated clothes before going on her way, understanding you didn't wish to see or talk to anyone while holding out hope that you would one day.

You had waited for her to leave the house entirely before opening the door hesitatingly, and picking up the bag quickly, reading the note as well back in the comfort of your room. The kiss she left on the note, marked by her red lipstick, was so much like Mor that it made you cry.

That was the last time you had opened this door, and as your hand finds the doorknob you hesitate, heart beating so loud you think it might jump out of your chest. It takes you entirely too long to go through with it, but a loud, boisterous laugh coming from downstairs allows some of your courage to return.

Descending the stairs slowly, step by step, slowly putting one foot in front of the other, simultaneously trying to not make any noise and telling yourself you could do this. When you get closer to the dining room, close enough that you could hear them talking and find Azriel's shadows lazing around along the walls, you hesitate once more.

They sounded happy and you would only ruin the mood with your presence. Those thoughts quickly consume you, and almost make you turn around, but as one of his shadows suddenly passes you, sliding into the room to warn Azriel of your arrival, you round the corner and take the last few steps, walking into the room and facing the other three residents of this house.

Cassian stands up immediately at your presence, your name leaving his lips in surprise as he studies you with wide eyes. His familiar lack of subtlety almost brings a smile to your lips. You think it did at first, only to raise your hand and find your mouth set in the same line it had been stuck in for weeks, the muscles still unused, but you still stayed.

They were all frozen in place, as if scared that if they made any sudden movement it would send you back running to your room, and, truthfully, it probably would. Everyone's eyes are now on you, every single one of your instincts is telling you to turn back around, and you're still here. Maybe you can actually do this.

“I…” Your voice falters, you couldn't be sure when it was the last time you had used it. “I thought I could join you for dinner today.”

No one answers right away, still watching you as if they couldn't believe you were really standing there. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, closing your hands into fists, hard enough that your nails bite into the palms of your hands, the pain keeping you present in the moment. You wanted to approach the table, but felt entirely too exposed.

Nesta is the first to break out of the spell, grabbing onto Cassian's arm and pulling him back down into his chair, making you let out a sigh of relief. As soon as his butt finds the chair, Azriel also shakes himself out of his surprise, a blinding smile trying to fight its way into his lips while he attempts to act normally. His shadows all disperse to different corners of the room as he lets out a breath, one that seems to come from deep within him.

“Of course you can,” he answers at last. He comes up to your room and talks to you every day, but hearing it unmuffled by the door, his eyes locked on yours, makes goosebumps appear in your arms. It also sends you walking to the table, choosing the seat at the top instead of the empty one next to Azriel. One step at a time.

A bowl of soup appears in front of you as soon as you sit down. The worst part was over, you reminded yourself. Now you just have to sit and eat, let them get lost in their conversations and just push through. It takes them a moment to understand your feelings, but once again Nesta seems to read you like an open book, starting their conversation back up and forcing them to follow.

You hadn't eaten all day if you remembered correctly, but your appetite was the last thing on your mind, having to almost force yourself to finish the soup, as was the usual these days. It was also hard to keep track of their conversation as you kept repeating encouraging words in your head and ordered your limbs to keep moving, entirely too aware of your every movement.

They tried to be subtle, but every once in a while you could also feel their side glances at you. You never met their eyes though, staring into your soup as if it was the most interesting thing you've ever seen in your life.

Azriel's shadows seemed to be your biggest supporters, lazing around under your feet as if reminding you that you weren't alone. They were easier to deal with that Azriel himself for now, but as an extension of him, it felt like having him close.

You hardly say another word during the whole ordeal, the air so awkward it almost made you want run away multiple times, but you stay until you finish your food, and when you go back to your room, excusing yourself quickly, you're incredibly proud of yourself. Azriel tells you as much when he visits one last time before sleep as well, a warmth spreading in your chest at the words. Maybe all wasn't completely lost yet.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

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strawberrybuni · 5 months ago

Text

I MISS YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING

Pairings(separate): Satoru x reader, Suguru x reader, Kento x reader, Toji x reader, Choso x reader Summary: You had a bad accident that gave you amnesia, and you no longer remember him, and he just can't seem to move on Word Count: 4.1k CW: a LOT of angst, hurt no comfort :( A/N: I'd rather jump into a volcano than make choso cry tbh

GOJO SATORU

Satoru was someone who never bothered with dating. After all, he was such a busy man, he didn't really have time to even think about all that, yet he somehow managed to find time for you. The two of you were damn near inseparable, twin flames if you will.

You were a talented sorcerer, a grade 1 and always improving. He always took so much pride in your growth and how you strived to continue to get stronger alongside him. You two used to spend as much time together as possible, but now he's grateful if you even respond to one of his texts.

About a year ago, you two were on a mission, and a curse user caught you off guard, getting you bad with an attack. You had suffered some pretty intense injuries, it was a miracle you were even still alive. However, your injuries came with a permanent scar, amnesia.

Your memories were completely shot, either in bits and pieces, or just completely gone from your head altogether. Unfortunately for him, he was completely wiped from your brain. Even worse? Your attitude towards him took a complete 180. The fire of once being his twin flame now completely put out with zero chance of it being relit. He wasn't sure if you not remembering various events of your life altered your personality and the way you thought, but you practically hated him now.

Any time he tries to speak to you, he's met with glares, eye rolls, and half assed responses. It didn't stop him from talking to you, though. He would rather you be rude to him than never talk to him again.

Satoru is a man who never spoke on how things affected him or how they made him feel. No one knew how he reread your old text messages over and over again, or how he cries sometimes over the loss of you. No one knew how he lost countless hours of sleep just looking over your vids and pics that you two had taken when you were still together.

No one knew how he was dying on the inside.

“You gonna stay up here moping all day, or try talking to them?” He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Shoko came to stand beside him.

He had been in his usual spot watching you from above as you trained with the students. He had been lost in thought, fantasizing about how the training would’ve been going if things were as they used to be.

“Nah, I already bothered them today. Maybe I will later though.” He responded with his usual grin, but she saw right through his facade.

They stood there in silence, just watching, the faint sound of laughter filling the air. To Satoru, it almost felt like the universe was laughing at him. First he loses his one and only best friend, and now he's being forced to lose his one true love. Love really is the worst curse of them all, huh?

“You can talk to me, you know,” Shoko finally spoke after a few moments, not wanting to see her friend suffering alone. “It's fine, there's nothing to talk about anyways.”

“But there is Satoru. You might think you have everyone fooled and thinking that you’re unbothered by what happened, but not me. You don't.. have to go through all this alone.”

He mulled over her words for a few moments before shrugging slightly, deciding to be somewhat honest. “I guess I just.. don't find any point in talking about it. They don't love me anymore, and that's that. All I can do is accept it and go forward. If I push too much, they'll end up hating me more than they already do.”

He didn't want to accept it, though. God what he’d give to have you by his side once again. There aren't any lengths he wouldn't go to just to have you remember him. To call him Toru again. To love him again.

“Well that's surprisingly mature of you.” she teased with a sympathetic smile, causing him to pout. “Heyyy! I can be mature!”

She laughed at his whine, then smiled softly as she rubbed his back. “Just know we're all worried about you, okay? If you ever need anything, I’m a text away.”

He nodded with a smile, not bothering to say anything as he watched her leave. His smile slowly faded once she was out of sight, his attention being on you once again. He brought a finger up to pull his blindfold down around his neck as he watched you, letting out a shaky sigh.

“I really do miss you, sweetheart.”

GETO SUGURU

You were out and about with your friends, having a good day out in the nice weather. You had since recovered from the accident you were in, the same accident that gave you a nasty case of amnesia. You had lost a decent portion of your memories. Fortunately, you remembered most of your friends and they’ve all bee a great help in helping you readjust.

“So uh.. how’s it been between you and Suguru?” One of them asks out of the blue. Suguru, your boyfriend before your accident 6ish months ago who was no longer playing that role in your life. “I mean, there’s nothing really going on, we talk sometimes if that’s what you’re asking”

“Well I was just wondering because he’s kind of sort of..” Your friend trailed off, motioning discreetly in a direction to which your eyes followed. Your eyes made contact with his as you found him to be leaning against a wall not far from where you and your friends are, a frown instantly gracing your lips. “Give me a moment."

You got up, incredibly upset as you made your way over him. You had felt a lot of sympathy towards him given the circumstances. You couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for your lover to suddenly no longer remember you. So, you agreed to try and make a relationship work, but after a few months, you found you just aren't into him anymore. No matter what you did, you just couldn't find that love for him again. So, you broke it off and offered to just be friends, not for him to borderline stalk you.

“What the fuck Suguru? Why are you here?” You ask, since this isn’t exactly the first time he’s appeared ‘randomly’ where you happen to be. “I just happened to be in the area.”

“Bullshit. That’s your excuse every time I catch you lurking. I know I said we could be friends, but this is the opposite of how friends should act.”

Suguru frowned at your words. He hated when you referred to him as just some friend. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted his title as your boyfriend back. Yes he agreed to being friends, but that was only so he could continue to try and recapture your heart.

“Well apologies Y/N, I actually was in the area I just.. was curious about what you were up to and followed for a bit.”

“Do you not realize how weird that is? What if I’m on a date, then what?” His frown deepened at your response. “You’re already going on dates?”

“Oh my god I can’t keep having the same conversation with you.”

Time and time again, he would insert himself into your personal affairs as if he was still your boyfriend. He’d get pushy for answers, needing to know what you’re doing. He just misses when you’d give him those silly little updates on what’s going on throughout your day. All of your selfies, your audio messages. God he misses it all. He didn’t mean to act like a creep, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What I do in MY dating life is MY business. We are not a thing anymore Suguru, get that through your head.”

“How do you expect me to do that, huh? How do you expect me to be okay with watching you go out with some other dude, to let him know you like I knew you. For him to attempt to love you the way I loved you. You’re being unfair, no?"

“Honestly I'm being really fair. I have done nothing but try to make things work because you seemed like genuinely a nice guy. Unfortunately, it didn’t play out how we hoped it would. I set my boundaries in us just being friends and you’re the one continuing to push my boundaries again and again. So no Suguru, you’re the one being unfair.”

You were right, and he knew that, but he just can’t go on without you, and doing this almost made him feel apart.

“Look Suguru, because I’m so generous, I’ll give you one last fucking chance. Push my boundaries again and I’m blocking you. Got it?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Got it.”

He watched you return to your friends, hands in his pockets as he left. He had no intentions of stopping, he just was going to be smarter and sneakier about things. You’ll love him again one day, he has to keep believing that for the sake of his sanity. He just has to.

NANAMI KENTO

Your feet dragged against the carpeted floor as you made your way down the hallway to Kento’s apartment. It felt like it went on forever as the feeling of dread bubbled up in your chest at what you were about to do.

Bringing your hand up, you gently knock a few times, anxiously awaiting for him to open the door.

“Ah, Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you. It’s a pleasant surprise, I was actually in the midst of cooking if you’d like to come in.” Kento’s face was kind, eyes almost pleading for you to accept his offer. He missed you in ways you could never even begin to imagine, which is why it was making it so hard for you to go through with this.

“Thank you, but that's okay. I just um.. I came to return this to you.” You held out your hand, your engagement ring resting in your palm.

Kento felt his mouth run dry.

“What? Why.. why are you..” He tried to find the words to speak, his mind unable to comprehend what you're doing, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“I'm sorry Nanami, I really really am. I’ve been trying to find those feelings again, to feel what I felt before the accident, to remember you. I just.. it’s been months now and I just can't go on with this engagement, because at this rate I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that love for you again. I’m.. I'm sorry.”

You truly felt remorseful, he seemed like such a wonderful man, you can understand why you fell for him in the first place. But for some reason, you just weren't in love with him anymore. The love you once felt for him was long gone.

Ever since your accident, the two of you tried everything to get you to remember. Hell, he’d be fine with you falling in love with him all over again. He doesn't care, just as long as you two are together.

You’re the love of his life, you’re the oxygen he breathes. Irreplaceable. No one could ever compare to you in his eyes, he just can't live without you. Your wedding was supposed to be in a few months, and what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life was slowly slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“No, no no, wait please Y/N. Can't we just try a little longer? I don't mean to be pushy but I feel like we were really getting somewhere and–” Please don't do this. “But we weren't, I was just forcing it because I didn't want to hurt you–”

“I just don't understand why we can't keep trying, we had so many plans together Y/N. Marriage, kids, a house in Malaysia.”

“And that sounds lovely but Nanami–”

“Stop calling me that.” The air around you two fell awkwardly silent. “Call me Ken.. please.. like you always have.” His voice was broken, defeated. He's dealt with so much loss in his life, he couldn't bear to lose you too.

His days have become so devoid of the color you once brought to his life. Before you, he was simply going through the motions of life because that's what he had to do. Now that he’s had you, he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He doesn’t want to go back to how it was before you.

“I’m sorry I just..” He sighed, a hand coming up to rub his face. He didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, he really didn't, but god he was so desperate to try and get you to change your mind. “You’re everything to me. Without you I just.. I'm a shell of a man. Things aren't the same without you by my side. Please can't we just keep trying for a little longer? We could have a breakthrough.”

You listened to his ramble, but you weren't budging. You didn't think it was healthy for him to keep holding onto something that just was no longer written in the stars.

“I can't anymore Kento, I don’t.. I don't want to do this anymore, I'm sorry. I think continuing to try is a lost cause, and only it's filling you with false hope.” He remained silent at your words, nodding in reluctant acceptance, knowing pushing the envelope wouldn't end in his favor.

“Alright.. may I request one last thing from you, before you go?” He asks, fighting back his tears and emotions. “Please, stay for dinner. Cooking for you was something that always bought me joy and.. I'd like to at least sit and eat with you one last time.”

You thought for a few moments before nodding, it was the least you could do. You'd give him this one last thing before you leave for good.

Originally, Kento wasn't going to go back to sorcerer work, since he didn't want to risk his life and leave you alone, but after you had left and he thought it over again, he decided he would accept Gojo’s request for his assistance.

He had decided on his plan. Once this final mission in Shibuya is all said and done, he'd leave for Malaysia, and maybe, just maybe finally have a better life for himself there.

What could possibly go wrong?

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Love was something Toji never thought he'd ever try again. He had no interest in commitment in the slightest. If it wasn't just a quick fuck or a dynamic that benefitted him in some way, he truly just couldn’t give a damn.

That was, until you appeared in his life.

What started out as just a friends with benefits type relationship, it slowly morphed into the both of you desiring more from each other.

You both understood each other. You were both from tragic backgrounds and dark pasts, and you two accepted good with the bad from one another. You two were so happy and in love.

Until the accident.

You were a curse user like him, and went on missions the same way he did. However, one really bad impact to the head had you in the hospital for a good few months. You were in a coma, and everyday he prayed that you would wake up. Although, now he kind of wishes that you did.

When you had awoken, you had lost various memories, including him. You didn't remember meeting him, all the moments you two shared, when he finally started telling you he loved you, none of it. And it killed him, not that he’d ever say it aloud.

When he told you how he was your boyfriend, while yes you found him to be very attractive, you just didn't feel the same about him anymore. You were always a closed off guarded individual due to your trauma. Yet for some reason back then, you allowed him into your heart. This time, however, you had zero interest in that.

Toji felt so many things. He was angry, confused, and heartbroken. How could you not remember all the times you two shared? Why did you not even want to try? Why didn't you care?

All the self improvement you helped him with all went down the drain. He just didn't care about anything or anyone anymore. Losing his first wife was hard, it destroyed him. Now he's losing you, except you're not even actually gone. You're right there, before his eyes, and has to watch you continue to live your life without him.

“Shiu! That stupid mission was a– oh, um, hi Toji.” You awkwardly greeted him as you entered the office, not expecting to see him during your visit to Shiu. The tension in the room grew thick as Shiu cleared his throat. “I'm uh, gonna go smoke this. I'll be right back.” That bastard.

An awkward silence hung in the air before Toji decided to break it. “So, you seein’ anyone?

“I don't really think that's–”

“It's just a harmless question, doll.” His tone is borderline condescending, you let it slide though. “I was, not anymore though.”

Toji bit back a laugh at that. He liked to believe that deep down in your subconscious, you needed him just the way you always have, and that you’d never find another person who’d make you feel as he did.

“Yeah? And why's that?” He pressed, wanting any indication that his theory had any basis in reality. “Why does even that matter? It’s none of your business.”

You shot him down. Any time you two bumped into each other, he always pulled this. He'd get far too nosy about your dating life and you were tired of it. You understand that you two were in love before and that it's hard for him, but he needed to let it go. You weren’t interested and that was that.

“Ya know, if you ever want–”

“No.”

Toji frowned, irritation bubbling his chest from your immediate rejection. “I wasn't looking for a relationship doll, just a good fuck. You really think I wanna be bothered with you again? I barely wanted to even when we were together.” He spoke harshly, none of his words even being true.

He hated himself for the way he was treating you, but he just couldn't stop himself. Hurt people hurt people, after all.

“Just tell Shiu to call me. I'm leaving.” Before he could say anything, you were already out the door, refusing to take his attitude any longer.

Whatever, he was fine before without you anyway. He'll continue to tell himself that doesn't need you until he finally tricks his mind into believing it's true.

CHOSO

Loud knocks at your door awoke you from your sleep, having fallen asleep by mistake on the couch. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the time.

Nearly 2AM.

“Y/N?? A-Are you in there? Please I-I just wanna talk.” A once all too familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door, and you knew it was him.

Choso, the man who apparently was your boyfriend before your accident.

A sigh left your lips, you already knew what this was about. You had blocked him on everything because you believed this would be beneficial to him. You felt this would help him move on, because that's simply what he was going to have to do. Yet he just wouldn't.

You reluctantly made your way to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. He looked like a mess. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy from what you could only assume was from hours of crying. His stripe on his nose was dripping, as if his emotions were pouring from it. He truly looked pitiful.

“Choso..” You felt awful, you really did. You didn't mean to cause this man so much pain and turmoil, but you weren't going to fake being in love with him. That wouldn't make the situation any better.

“W-Why? Y-You– you blocked me? Why?” He stuttered out, once dried tears slowly beginning to wet his face once again as he started to cry, his breaths coming out shaky and broken.

You let him inside, worried about him having an anxiety attack and nosy neighbors being in your business.

“Choso I'm really going to need you to breathe–” The second the door is shut, he’s pulling you in for a tight hug, his body shaking as small cries leave him. “Choso–”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry. I just need t-to touch you” You suppose you could give him this. “Okay but you're squeezing me too tight, you're going to hurt me if you don't loosen up.”

You two stood like that for a few moments. You offered comfort to the best of your ability, rubbing his back soothingly. You knew you needed to calm him down as much as possible for the news you were going to break to him.

“I think.. we should sit and talk.” Your soft voice broke the silence. You gently removed yourself from his tight hold, guiding him to sit on the couch.

“I.. blocked you because I felt it’s for the best” You turned your head away from him, the sad puppy dog look in his eyes making you feel far too guilty. “I know before my accident we were together and in love but.. I need you to understand that I no longer feel that way. I don't remember you anymore–”

“B-But that doesn't mean you c-can’t remember one day, right? R-Right??” That was something you didn't have an answer for.

“I don’t–”

“B-But you remember everyone else, w-why not me? Why don't you r-remember me?” He begged for an answer, shaky hands coming to hold yours, squeezing them tight. “T-There has to be s-something we can do right? Maybe Shoko could d-do something, anything. We just need to–”

“Choso, please just stop.” You felt a pang in your heart as his shoulders slumped, but you had to throw the cold water in his face. “There is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry, I am. I wish for your sake that I could wake up with all my memories of you back but I just can't. I'm just.. not interested in you in that way anymore.” You slowly pulled your hands from his, resting yours in your lap as you continued. This really sucked.

“I thought maybe we could be friends, and over time either my memories would return or I'd develop feelings for you again but.. I just don't feel that way towards you. And you're so.. clingy. The way you are is unhealthy Choso. You have to move on.”

His eyes went wide at your words, his world shattering before him as he rapidly shook his head. “No. No no no I-I don't want to do that. I can't do that p-please.”

“You're going to have to. I know I was your first love, but I promise you'll find someone else who will–”

“I-I don't want anyone else I-I want you. I don’t want to e-ever even think about m-my life without you p-please, I’ll do a-anything Y/N please.”

He was becoming hysterical again and you're far too exhausted to be able to properly calm him down. Besides, he'd just do what he's been doing for the last two months. He'll cry and cry until you feel guilty enough to change your mind. Not this time.

“I'm sorry Choso, but I need you to leave. It’s over” You stood up from the couch, wanting to be done with this conversation. Giving him the cold shoulder was something you didn't necessarily want to do, but he was leaving you with no choice at this point.

As you approached your door to let him out, you heard a thud from behind you followed by a hand grasping your ankle to prevent you from going any further. The sight before you as turned your head to look only worsened how you felt.

He was on his knees, his head down, grasping your ankle in a final desperate plea. “P-Please… d-don’t do this to me..”

It was your turn for your shoulders to slump, but your mind was already made as you whispered “Please, don't make me call Yuji..”

You felt his grip loosen at your words, before completely releasing your ankle. He slowly rose to his feet, his eyes trained on the floor, knowing if he looks at you, he’ll completely crumble and he wouldn’t be able to leave. He doesn’t say another word as he leaves, knowing there’s nothing he could say that would change your mind.

“Goodbye.. Choso.” You said for the last time before closing the door.

#jujustu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #fushiguro toji #choso #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader

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consistencynevermether · 1 year ago

Text

Ice cold: Astarion x reader

content: ascended Astarion x gn tav, angst, tav is goin through it in this one yall, i give karlach a more hopeful ending in the background bc i just want her to be happy, karlach and tav besties agenda, sfw, cannon typical violence

summary: after breaking it off with ascended Astarion, you meet again at a winter ball

word count: 6k (apparently i cant shut up about this man)

a/n: man i gotta write more happy Astarion content fr i keep putting this man in situations.

How many years had it been since you’d seen Astarion? 3? 5? Maybe more? You try to remember what your last moments with him were like before you decided to break things off. It was definitely after he ascended, but was it before you had gotten rid of the tadpole, or after? Honestly, after a while things had started to blur together really. After so many years, only the painful parts remained clear in your memory. How you, with tears in your eyes, had told him you couldn’t do this anymore. And the look of condescending and uncaring as he stared back. It had shattered you into a million pieces to end things with Astarion, but it would have hurt even more if you had stayed. Whoever he had become after he ascended, it wasn’t your astarion, not really.

Why were you reminiscing about your lost love? Well because after all these years apart, he was now standing about 5 feet away from you. Gods above how did you get yourself in this situation?

Let’s start a few years back after Astarion had left to be the new lord of Baldur’s Gate and you had stayed, shattered. Having to pick up the broken pieces of what you once were, having to figure out who you would be without him. You probably should have taken some time alone, now that you think about it. Processed your emotions, talked to a professional, properly mourned what you had lost before continuing on.

Of course, you had done the opposite and instead had decided to travel with Karlach and Wyll to Avernus. Going to hell is probably not the best way to cope with a breakup, but that was the only option anyone could think of to try and save Karlach from the fate of the engine in her chest. And after what had happened to Astarion you just-

You just couldn’t

You couldn’t lose someone else, if you did, you felt like you would have been shattered past the point of repair. You couldn’t take losing one of your only friends right after losing your love. So you gathered up the broken pieces of yourself and headed straight into the hells.

You were down there for a few years probably.

Maybe?

Honestly, you didn’t remember. Time became sluggish and foggy after Astarion had left because it kept marching forward, away from your time together with him.

Yet in the end, Karlach had gotten her engine fixed and all 3 of you had climbed out of hell. A few more burn marks and scars, but nothing more than that had changed. Physically at least.

You had somehow managed to put your broken pieces back together, but you weren’t the same as before. You didn’t feel complete, more like a jumble of razor-sharp shards being forcefully welded together trying to imitate what you once were. But now you were jagged, and cracked, and tired

Gods, you were tired. The dark circles under your eyes never left, no matter how much you slept. Or tried to sleep that is.

Sometimes in the dead of night, you would replay Astarion's ascendance in your mind over and over again, wondering what you could have done differently then. Or even before. Where had you gone wrong? Was there another outcome that you failed to make happen? Was there another reality where the two of you were happy together? Gods how that thought hurt.

Sometimes, you thought about the what-ifs. You imagined what would have happened if he hadn’t chosen to ascend. What both of you could have been. What you so desperately wanted but could never reach. Eventually, you stopped that line of thought at night. It was too crushing to imagine how things could have been different. What you could have done differently.

After emerging from hell, you had on and off traveled with some of your previous party.

You and Wyll had headed to Waterdeep once to help Gale with a sea monster problem

In an amusing team-up, you had helped Halsin and Lazel find an enchanted bracelet they were both searching for, though they both argued on how to act upon most things during that entire adventure, so you had felt almost like it was a babysitting gig the entire trip.

There was also that time you helped Minsc dispose of some bandits robbing people near Baldur's gate, but you had dealt with that sorry lot fairly quickly and got far away from Baldur's Gate even quicker. You didn’t want to accidentally run into a certain lord.

And now you had an entirely new quest, in the bitter cold land of Sossal. A few weeks ago, you met back up with Karlach who apparently had been looking for you.

It’s not that you disliked seeing Karlach at all, in fact, you were both very close, which was part of the problem really. Part of why it stung a little to see her.

She saw you. She saw how much you hurt even after all this time. Your other friends seemed to have assumed that you had gotten better. That over time you had healed and it had gotten easier for you to come to terms with leaving Astarion. But Karlach knew the truth, She saw right through you, and it was mortifying. That every day the hole inside your heart had just got wider. She feared it would swallow you up one day, and you didn’t blame her. It didn’t help that being around her just made you feel so

Pathetic.

She had been to literal Hell and back and could still smile and laugh, while you had only lost one person and had cracked and splintered like glass. It hurt to see the light that shined off her while you could only fall deeper into darkness.

Of course, you knew none of that was her fault, you only had yourself to blame for who you were, so when she came asking for help, you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

She was having engine troubles again. It wasn’t as bad as before, thank the gods, but it did have a tendency to overheat ever so slightly whenever she felt a strong emotion, and if you didn’t do something one wrong spook could set her ablaze. Luckily she had gone to Gale first and discovered a gem Called the frostbite tear. He could attune the gem to Karlach and make it so that every time her engine began to overheat, the jewel would immediately cool it down, negating the problem before it became a real issue like when you had first met her. Last anyone had heard of the gem it was with some noble in Sossal.

So here you were. You, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale all together at the midwinters ball held here in the capital. Gale had procured the invites for you all, and every noble in Sossal, plus some from other territories, would be here for this celebration. Gale had even been nice enough to give you a beautiful outfit for the ball, made of silvery-white sparking silk. It reminded you of fresh snowfall on a winter's night. Admittedly it wasn’t very practical, and Gale did make you shower before putting it on. (Rude. You didn’t think you smelled t h a t bad.)

You were so focused on helping find this noble (and robbing him of the frostbite tear) that you hadn’t even considered Astarion might be here.

Not up until the moment that his vibrant red eyes locked onto yours across the room.

You couldn’t move. Everything was moving too fast and also in slow motion. Your legs felt like lead and your mouth was bone dry. The numbness that had settled in your chest for years now cracked open with new pain, and you weren’t sure which of the sensations you hated more.

All all this panic and emotions, and yet in your mind all you could think of was how he looked just the same as the day you left. He hadn’t changed. And that made it all the harder. Because now it was easier to forget all the years between you two. He still looked the same as what you saw when you closed your eyes each night. It was Astarion. But on closer examination, not your Astarion.

There was a coldness to him now. A certain reservation in his smile that made you feel like you would be a mere annoyance to him if you dared to approach. He seemed sharper somehow as well, like a finely honed blade. And his attire was extravagantly beautiful, the white fur-lined cloak he was wearing was probably more expensive than anything you had ever owned, including your current attire.

You were so busy taking this all in mentally that when you went to glance at him again he was gone. For a split second, you genuinely wondered if you had finally snapped and just hallucinated all of that when an all too familiar hand took yours.

You hadn't looked away for more than a second and astarion was right there in front of you, kissing your knuckles. The brush of his lips on your skin was nearly enough to bring you to your knees. All these years, and he still had so much power over you with one little motion.

To any outsider, this looked like quite the cute interaction really. The handsome new lord of Baldur's gate spots an incomparable beauty from across the room and is instantly smitten, so he effortlessly woes them the second he steps into the ballroom. But life is no romantic play.

“Hello darling, it certainly has been a while. We simply must catch up”

Before you could even attempt to respond, his hands were around your waist, guiding you to the dancefloor as the orchestra began to play, and other couples began to join the dancefloor as well.

You’d hoped maybe the dance would save you from the conversation, but it seemed the opposite was what occurred, as Astarion leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “So, 7 years without a trace, and suddenly you show up looking positively exquisite. Do tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Your mouth opens to respond, but you realize you have no idea what to say. What could you possibly say to him, and why would you even say it?

Luckily you were spared any more torture when you noticed Astarion staring intently at your neck. The sight reminded you of that night you found out he was a vampire spawn, and you had let him drink from you for the first time. But instead of hunger Astarions brown was furrowed with another emotion. Annoyance? Concern? Worry? You couldn’t tell anymore. It had been years since you could tell what Astarion was thinking

His voice broke the silence once again.

“Is this new?” His long pale fingers brushed across the burn scar near your collarbone.

Ah. So that’s what he was staring at.

“Well it’s been there a few years, so I wouldn’t really consider it new but-“ you shrug at the end of your sentence, and you both know what you meant. It was only new to him. He may have stayed unchanged all these years, but you certainly hadn’t. And it seemed Astarion was beginning to notice.

His eyes raked over you, taking in the changes. You were a bit more muscular now, all that constant fighting no doubt. Your new(er) scars were more visible in this outfit, which admittedly was a little revealing and definitely not meant to withstand the harsh outside winter. And the years now showed in the tired look in your eyes. You imagine that your eyes aged you quite a bit honestly, maybe you should be shocked he even recognized you now.

“So”, he started, decidedly keeping his hand firmly around your waist so you couldn’t run from the conversation, “when you made my undead heart beat again only to toss it on the ground at my feet again like it was nothing all those years ago, I always imagined how nice it would feel to see you struggle while I thrived as lord of Baldur's Gate.”

Wow. Impressively bad flirting. Had he gotten worse at this over the years? Or maybe he just detested you so much he didn’t even think there was a point in even pretending to like you anymore.

“But now that I’m actually here and you look-“

He gestured at you vaguely

“Well a bit like you’d been the one who got dumped, it doesn’t feel very satisfying.”

“Mhm,” you responded, in a stroke of pure poetry.

“Darling, you have to give me more than that. The silent treatment after all this time is just petty, even for me.”

He had a point. And part of you did want to know-

“How have you been, Astarion?”

His steps faltered a little when you said his name, but he quickly recovered, smoothly continuing the dance

He smirked, his fangs visible on one side “Well certainly better than you if I had to wager, the stuff under my eyes is eyeliner, not sleep deprivation side effects.”

You close the distance between you two involuntarily to get a closer look at his face. He was wearing some sort of golden liquid as eyeliner on his bottom lids. It was subtle but beautiful, and it shined when the light hit his face just right. On instinct, you began to reach towards his face, but you quickly stopped yourself. You needed to stay focused, damnit. You were here to help Karlach.

Astarion's smooth voice cut in once again. “Still making me do all the talking? Honestly, I don’t ever remember you being this quiet before.”

You startled and realized you had been staring at his face for a while, and then trying to snap yourself out of it, all while not making a sound

Gods you don’t remember it being this hard to talk to him. But then again, you found it harder to talk to anyone these days. you just-

You just didn’t expect that to also apply to Astarion. Further proof that despite him looking the same, there was distance now. A silent gaping chasm that you had no way to cross. But that is what you wanted, wasn't it? To get away from this Astarion. The one who considered you a pet, or an object to be displayed. Treasured, and loved, but never his equal. Never fully having free will, everything you would have done would have had to be something he approved of.

You loved him, more than anything. You still did. Deep down you knew you would die for this twisted version of your love, and if he asked you to rip out your own heart and serve it to him, you would. But you couldn’t be with him. Everything else you would do for him, but that was where you drew the line. It hurt too much, to be reminded every day of what you had lost. Of what you have failed to protect. That sweet high elf with a silver tongue and a heart of gold he let so few see. The one who wished for freedom more than anything, but still stuck by your side. Because at some point, he wanted to be free with you. And that was not this Astarion.

Despite all that, just for this moment, you wanted to forget it all. To be held in his arms once again. Maybe, if the gods blessed you, see a real smile of his. You just wanted this one moment. Then your greedy heart would be satisfied. You could burn this image of the two of you dancing forever in your mind and have it sustain you. You’d gladly take another trip to the hells if it meant just a moment where you could pretend you were with your astarion. The one that lived on in your memories. Though you didn’t dare hope that he was still in there somewhere, you don’t think your heart could take it.

You inhale deeply and begin to talk. You tell him about the quests you’ve been on, the adventures you’ve had, what you’ve been up to these past years. Including why you were here, and your quest to help Karlach and find the frostbite tear.

Eventually, you get to the point where you tell him why you're here, and what you're looking for. But as you do you see a scowl twist on his face.

“Astarion?” You question, “What’s bothering you?”

He huffs in reply, and you can’t help but smirk.

“I’m sorry but I do remember someone just talking about how petty the silent treatment is.” You prod, and lock eyes, a sign for him to tell you what’s on his mind

He rolls his eyes at your persistence, but nonetheless, he begins to speak.

“Hm. Just seems like you and Karlach are so very happy together. A bit of a downgrade if you ask me, but that’s certainly no fault of hers. I mean, once you’ve had me, all you can do is go down from there.”

“Karlach and I aren’t dating.” You deadpan.

She was more like a sister to you than anything, and besides you’re pretty sure she already has eyes for someone.

“Oh?” Astarions eyebrow raises. “So who have you been shagging all these years then? Wyll? Shadowheart? Surely not Gale. Oh please tell me it’s not Gale, I think that might actually hurt my feelings a little if we both shared being to your tastes.”

“Be nice. Gales is a good friend. FRIEND. They all are. And to answer your prying question, I’m not with anyone. Not since you.”

It was true. You hadn’t loved anyone since astarion. It just didn’t feel right. Even the idea of a casual fling didn’t feel at all satisfying. And there was no way you would actually consider dating someone again. Not when Astarion still held your heart.

You could see a few emotions go across Astarion’s face, but you couldn’t recognize them. You remember when you used to be able to know what he was thinking, when he was lying or not. But not anymore. Maybe it was because he was always putting on some act now.

As you stared, his hand wrapped around your waist and for a breathless moment, he effortlessly lifted you up into the air, gently twirling you around him. then he put you down and smoothly continued the dance as if that was always part of the steps.

Your face flushed at the amount of contact, and the smirk once again graced Astarion’s lips.

“So, nobody since me? Seems like someone’s not quite over the Lord of Baldur’s Gate.” He singsonged, taking great pleasure in how momentarily flustered you were. “It's ok if you're not over me darling, I can’t blame you.”

Clearly, he meant this as a joke, one you were supposed to roll your eyes at and ignore. But there was no point in lying, so you just nodded and continued the steps of the dance.

Astarion stopped dead in his tracks.

“I-

Wait what? You're still-

Ah-

You're not over me?”

“Astarion, the song isn’t over.” You tried to nudge him back into the dance, but his feet were planted firmly, and he wasn’t going to budge.

“Answer me.”

You sigh. He wasn’t going to move. So now you were just standing here. In the middle of a ballroom. With everyone else dancing around you. Great. This was super inconspicuous and undercover.

“I will only continue to talk if you move your damn feet Astarion. Hells I’m supposed to be blending in not standing out.” You hiss and kick at the side of his shoes to indicate for him to get moving.

He recognizes the determination in your eyes and you can see him deciding mentally that he’ll probably get his answer sooner if he does as you ask, so he picks up the dance once again. His grip on your waist is now like iron though, not painful in any way, but there’s absolutely no way you could get out of his grasp now. Not even if you put all your efforts into trying.

His eyes never left yours, his intense stare practically commanding you to talk.

Which you did say you would do.

“I still love you.” You shrug. “Never stopped loving you.”

“Then why did you leave?” The hurt in his voice is evident, and you immediately feel like someone hurled a spear of ice directly into your chest.

You can barely raise your voice above a whisper without it cracking. “You know why. I already told you when I left.”

“Bullshit. Because you loved the person that I was? He was pathetic. Only a fool would want the lesser version.” His voice was like ice, you could feel the hatred he held for himself.

And you instantly felt your anger flare up at his words.

“Don’t you ever talk about-

About him like that”

It felt weird referring to past Astarion as someone else. But it was true. They were two completely different people now. And honestly, you didn’t care about the semantics, your blood was practically boiling.

“He was the love of my life. He was everything to me. So don’t you dare insult him.” You spat, practically seeing red

Astarion's face twisted in rage.

“Maybe you liked me pathetic, hm? Maybe the only way you could possibly love me was if I was beneath you. A precious pet spawn, entirely dependent on you, living in your shadow to protect me from the sun that I now bask in.” He sneered, meeting your rage with his own.

And just like that, you had shattered all over again.

It was your turn to stop dancing now, unmoving in the sea of swaying nobles.

Astarion's rage seemed to have flickered out seeing the look on your face.

What did your face look like? Were you shocked? Were you crying? Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could register the feeling of hot tears down your cheeks, but you paid it no heed.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around Astarion, putting your face in the crook of his neck.

Astarion completely froze at the sudden contact, not even taking a breath. Although he probably didn’t need to actually breathe anyways so maybe that was normal.

“I’m sorry. If-

-If you truly believe that I ever thought that way about you, then I messed up beyond repair. I'm so sorry.”

You tried to continue, to apologize for all the times you had failed him. For making him feel like that. But you realized you couldn’t speak. Your body was silently heaving with sobs, tears flowing down your face and ruining Astarion's nice clothing.

Great. You couldn’t even cry without screwing him over. And this was definitely not inconspicuous.

You lifted your head, making a move to step away, but as you did you saw a blue glint on one of the lapels of some well-dressed lord.

Holy shit.

The frostbite tear. You had found it. And all it took was sobbing on your ex to spot the damn thing. That didn’t make you feel pathetic at all. Though admittedly this was the perfect distraction from this soul-crushing conversation. Maybe with any luck you wouldn’t even have to address that embarrassing display that no doubt disgusted astarion, he was probably hoping you’d get the hell off him already.

So you did just that, jerking back from the hug and keeping your eyes glued on the gem.

“Astarion look. It’s the frostbite tear. On that lord.”

But you could tell Astarion’s eyes were firmly glued to your face.

You tried to slip away, to follow the frostbite tears owner and relieve him from its ownership, whether that be by swiping it, lying, or just straight up threatening the guy. But Astarion held you firmly in place.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, to not startle your target. “He’s right there. Let go.”

“You can’t just drop that on me and leave” he whisper-yelled back

“I’m not leaving, I’m just grabbing something real quick. Now let go, it’ll take 5 minutes tops.”

“What if you decide you don’t wanna talk again and run off?” He countered

“Then you can corner me because you're the vampire ascendant.”

“What if he catches you and you get arrested?”

“Then you can visit me in jail because you're the vampire ascendant.”

“What if-“

Oh for fucks sake.

“Whatever happens, I assure you, you will be able to say whatever you want to me after because you are the vampire ascendant. You made that fact very clear to me when we were together. Now let go.” You cut him off, and then try once again to move towards the target. But his grip remained firm

You look up at him, now filled with annoyance and desperation. The noble could escape if you didn’t do something now, and yet Astarion seemed insistent on trapping you.

“Just one more dance, alright?” He bargained.

Unbelievable. That was his priority? You knew it had been a while but you never expected him to disregard a former ally so blatantly. Karlach needed this.

But upon closer inspection, he almost looked… a little guilty? Worried maybe? That didn’t seem right. What on earth?

Just then, Astarion pushed your face into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, almost protective. Protective but restrictive. You couldn’t move away no matter how much you pushed on his chest or tried to slip out of his hold.

“Astarion. Let. Go.” You hissed.

But your attempts at breaking free immediately stopped when you heard an ear-piercing screech and the sound of heavy footsteps.

On instinct, you reached for where your weapon would normally be, but you had nothing on you. Shadowheart had a few small weapons concealed on her in case things got messy, considering her attire was a bit more conservative than yours, but she wasn’t anywhere near you now.

Damnit. On instinct, you tried to twist around in Astarion's grasp to a more protective stance. Of course, you knew he didn’t need your protection at all, it was just a base instinct kicking in. Unfortunately, he didn’t allow you to move out of his grasp, so all you could do was squirm.

“What is wrong with you??” You practically shouted. If there was danger, then just standing here like this would leave you both wide open. Had he lost all common sense?

Unless-

At that exact point, a guard of the lord of Sossal burst through the doors, covered in blood.

“Vampire spawn are attacking the gates!” She exclaimed, cradling her arm, which was profusely bleeding.

“I didn’t know you would be here.” He murmurs, almost as if he’s telling this to himself more than you.

He wasn’t trying to keep you here, you realize. He was protecting you. None of the spawn would dare come near you if they saw Astarion holding you like this.

But at this moment you didn’t care. For years you had mourned over the loss of your Astarion. You had tried so hard, attempting to separate him from this ascended Astarion. But you had never been truly able to get over him, to accept he was gone. Because deep, deep down, no matter what you told yourself, you still believed he was in there somewhere. Behind all the silks and sharp gazes.

And you felt that hope die as you heard the hissing of the dozens of spawn outside, mingled with the screams and cries of the guards. He was gone. And your heart was shattered all over again.

But it was different this time. Before, you had pulled yourself together again, deformed and jagged, but still together. You couldn’t do that this time. There was no coming back from this. You could feel it. This pain wouldn’t fade. But there was something else there that wasn’t there before. Anger.

Astarion was protecting you, yes, but Gale, Shadowheart, and Karlach were here too. If the spawn got into the ballroom, they would be in danger. Not to mention this made procuring the frostbite tear infinitely more difficult.

Rage burned in your eyes, and for the first time, you saw the great vampire ascendant stumble over his words a little, as he tried to explain something about how the lord of Sossal had insulted him, but you weren’t listening.

While Astarion was struggling to explain himself, you realized he wasn’t paying as much attention to you. Good.

In one swift movement, you slipped out of his grasp and frantically looked around, searching for your friends. It was nearly impossible to hear anything over the screaming and panic of the nobles. It also wasn’t helping that Astarion was probably going to be right on your heels the second he recovered. Or maybe he’d just leave you to be eaten by his spawn. You didn’t really care.

After continuing to weave your way past frantic nobles and shouting their names, you were able to see a red hand waving you down from the far left balcony. It was Karlach, and she was with Gale and Shadowheart. Good. With all 3 of them together any spawn that came after them would be screwed. But you still had a mission to complete.

You looked up at Shadowheart and held your hand out for a weapon. You were going to track down that damn gem if it killed you. That noble was about to have a very bad day. Well. A worse day.

You were focusing all your hurt onto this, all your rage. But you needed to. You needed it because you had no idea what else you could do now. You needed something to focus on. Something to distract you from your shattered heart.

Shadowheart saw your determination and tossed a short sword down to you. Not your preferred weapon of choice, but it would do.

You whipped around, hand around the short sword at the ready, but also because it felt grounding, to be fighting once again. Now it was time to hunt down your prey.

You quickly ran in the direction you’d last seen, glancing over every lapel for that glowing blue light. It was hard, many of the nobles were dressed in a winter theme, so shades of white, silver, and blue were all too common in the sea of panic.

You continued to push past nobles, searching for that faint blue glow. You refused to let this go, you would not let Karlach down. You fought for too many years in hell getting the engine in her repaired to go all the way back to square one again.

You feel yourself tunnel vision on finding a blue light, your head whipping back and forth on the hunt, it felt good to let everything else fade away into numbness as your only thought is tracking down this gem.

A glimmer out of the corner of your eye. A flash of blue. The shine of fine silk. There he was. In a crowd of panicked nobles trying to run into other parts of the castle and hide from Astarion's horde gathering outside. Honestly, it was a pretty understandable reaction, you didn't blame him for running at all, but you needed that gem. You hope he survived honestly.

Survived.

Because Astarion planned to turn this place into a bloodbath. Your Astarion. The one who you had sat under the stars with, and he would teach you all the constellations whose names you didn't know, his silky voice lulling you to sleep when insomnia or worry had hit you.

You'd rather still be in the hells honestly.

You took a deep breath, centering yourself back to the present. Get the gem.

You dashed after the noble, drawing your shortsword and charging at the man. If possible, you'd do this quickly.

Ducking under the other guests, you grab this unfortunate noble by the collar, the moment you do he screeches, clearly fearing the worst. Luckily for him, you were only after his gem, not his blood. With one slice you cut the gem off the cloak, shredding the beautiful white fabric.

Not even bothering to explain yourself to him, you pocket your prize and turn on your heel, heading back in your friend's direction, when all of a sudden you hear the noble you had just stolen from scream again. But this time it was followed by the screams of a few others

You look back and that’s when you see her. A vampire spawn. Clearly on her way to the ballroom, but judging by her smile, it was clear she had just found some horderves.

You could have run. You were the only person with a weapon and the farthest away from her. She definitely wouldn’t pick you as her first target, she’d go for one of the defenseless nobles right next to her. You should have met up with the others and gotten the hells out of this place.

But the noble whose lapel you had just torn apart was so young. They were people. Scared people who got unlucky and were about to die because someone had offended the great vampire ascendant. Maybe you wanted to save them. But more likely, you just wanted something to take your anger out on. Or maybe you were just dumb as a rock.

But regardless you turned around and began to sprint towards the spawn instead of away, angling your weapon so that you would have the perfect angle to go for her collarbone.

Yet as soon as you locked her on as a target, her eyes went wide with..fear? She was a vampire spawn, surely she’d had a few of her victims fight back yes? Was this her first hunt?

Soon you realized that wasn’t the case at all as you felt a chill run down your spine. Even now with all his power, it wasn’t hard for you to identify the presence now standing menacingly right behind you. The familiar smell of bergamot filled your senses with the closeness. You could feel his chest pressed against your back. You didn’t know what kind of face Astarion was making right now, but whatever it was, it terrified the vampire spawn, her form now shaking and cowering before her master.

Funny. Even now after everything, you couldn’t find astarion scary. You probably should, considering how he just appeared behind you. But after everything you still couldn’t.

There was no point in delaying this any further. You turn around, and as you do his eyes immediately move from the spawn back to you. And his gaze softened. Before this whole ordeal that single action probably would have caused you to melt. But now it was different. You had already resigned yourself to being without him. You couldn’t turn back time. You couldn’t save him. All you could do now was try and find a way forward. And you certainly wouldn’t find that staring into his crimson eyes.

This felt awful. You felt awful. Walking away from him now didn’t feel like closure, it felt like someone had just stopped writing on the page mid-sentence. But you had to stop. Just stop. You couldn’t spend the rest of your life like this, mourning what you lost. Astarion would have an eternity to forget about you, but you only had this one life. And for the first time in a long time, you finally felt like you wanted to move forward with your life. To start living again. You were still mad. And upset. And it still hurt. But you wanted to get better.

So you turned around, not looking at Astarion, and left. Walked right past him without saying a word. You didn’t know what he would do. Let you leave and forget you ever existed? Grab your arm and try to talk again? Decide he had had enough and just drain you dry? You honestly had no idea anymore. But you knew one thing.

You wouldn’t be the one to look back.

409 notes · View notes

discordantwritings · 9 months ago

Text

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader

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