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borathae · 1 year ago

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"Jungkook is always plagued with guilt when he has to leave you for a business trip. His anxiety that you might be angry at him for not being present is especially high this time around and only your safe embrace can help him calm down."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, mild Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Warnings: Jungkook is anxious, stressed & guilty, he cries, she is so comforting, hugs and kisses, needy sex, sloppy mutual masturbation, handjob, pussy fingering, penetrative sex facing each other, until he pushes her to her back and fucks her missionary, strength & muscle kink, he is so passionate and rough in missionary, I don't think that there are distinctive roles in this, I guess you can call it Top!Jungkook with a Mommy kink, she calls him Bunny at first before he fucks her to the state where she can only call him by his name, dirty talk, sensory deprivation in the sense that they fuck in complete darkness, they're so so desperate for each other, tears because it's so good, multiple orgasms for her, creampies, cockwarming as aftercare, with cuddles and kisses <3, they're fucking soulmates

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this after kook's solo concert because he did it to me. i also reread THE angst chapter of aaol and i think this influenced me as well. i really want my kookie back

The plane wasn’t supposed to land this late. The plans were all ruined.

Jungkook scans his eyes over the kitchen. Empty. Clean. He abandons his suitcase by the stairs leading up and walks to the fridge. He opens it. His heart stings. The plans were all ruined. He wasn’t supposed to come home this late. You made dinner for him. The prettily plated food is still on its original plate for him. You put a glass bowl over it to keep it fresh.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out and closes the fridge. He feels so fucking guilty that he wants to throw up. He should have been there. He should have eaten your food and talked to you during dinner. He should have fucking been there.

You knew that he wouldn’t come home. He was aware that his text came way too late, but he still had hoped that you hadn’t started cooking yet. Of course you had.

It has been longer than a month since he last was in Seoul and you always cook the grandest things as a welcome home surprise. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to cook, you do it because you want to. Which makes him feel all the shittier right now. He wasn’t there to appreciate it. He had one job - the most important job of all - and he fucking failed you.

Jungkook walks back to his suitcase and lifts it. He will carry it upstairs and then do the laundry tomorrow. He can’t be bothered tonight. It’s already too late. He already wasted too much time being his shitty CEO self.

The dressing room is empty and clean. It faintly smells like lavender in here. He knows it’s because you cleaned this room recently. Jungkook discards the suitcase by the dresser and leaves the room.

He takes a shower in the upstairs bathroom. He didn’t want to go downstairs yet. He is a little scared to do so. He shouldn’t have arrived so late. He is scared of your reaction. He gets so sad when you are disappointed in him. He hasn’t decided yet whether it’s his anxiety disorder talking or the truth, but he thinks that you will be angry at him.

He is angry at himself. He’s a fucking shithead of a husband. That’s what he fucking is.

Jungkook manages not to cry in the shower even if he really wanted to. His feelings are eating him up alive. He feels so stressed. So tired. So exhausted. Work has been hell. And the fact that it was in a country he barely knew the language of and he had to be without you made it even worse. He feels so drained.

The shower doesn’t help. It cleans him, nothing more. Jungkook doesn’t put on clothes and leaves for downstairs. He uses the never ending city lights as his guidance. The wind carries the distant purring of the traffic to the windows. The slightly higher pitched pitter patter of his naked feet on marble floor is loud in comparison. The sound stops in sync with Jungkook stopping in front of the bedroom door.

His hand is shaking. He has to hold it to calm down. He is so scared. You will be so disappointed with him. He wouldn’t even be surprised if you told him to sleep on the couch tonight. You never did so before, but things can change. One month is awfully long and he left you hanging today. He wouldn’t blame you if you sent him away.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath for courage and steps inside. The room smells like home. Jungkook feels his throat tighten in emotion. This is what home smells like. And he was too late for it. He swallows down his tears and tries to walk it off.

The electric blinds are closed all the way, putting the room into complete darkness. Jungkook uses the light of his phone screen to tiptoe to the bathroom. He still needs to brush his teeth. He does so using his phone’s flashlight as the only light source. He didn’t want to turn on the big lights and risk waking you. Or maybe he didn’t want to look into his own eyes. He can’t bear to face himself tonight.

Jungkook leaves the bathroom door open and tiptoes to the bed. His phone screen gives off enough light that he can see you once he arrives by the bedside.

You are turned to his side, resting your hand on his blanket. Your cheek is squished as you are sleeping halfway on your stomach. Your lips are parted as soft breaths leave you. Jungkook looks back at your hand resting on his side and gulps down the painful lump in his throat. You shouldn’t have had to fall asleep alone tonight. You shouldn’t have had only his memory to hold.

Jungkook picks up your hand so he could slip under the covers. You react to the gentle nudge with a hum.

“Mhm”, you let out and roll over, now showing off your back.

Jungkook is aware that you didn’t do it on purpose, but it feels like it. You turned your back to him and it’s his own fault.

Jungkook tugs the blanket under his arm and touches your back. Up and down. Up and down. He feels you breathe. Your warmth is so familiar to him. He missed it so much.

He missed you so much.

His eyes start burning.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers shakily and turns his back to you. He can’t face you anymore. It hurts so much. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to cry.

The sheets ruffle as you move around again. Jungkook doesn’t feel the movement because you and he have separate mattresses and separate blankets to get the best sleep ever. You shared a mattress and blanket at first, but decided to upgrade your bed a year ago. Jungkook likes his mattress firm and his blanket thin, while you love to have a softer mattress and your blanket to be thick. And the little mattress movements as one of you rolled around or the blanket wars which once managed to wake you are gone as well. Changing one mattress and blanket for two was the best decision ever. You and he sleep like royalty these days.

Jungkook hears the sheets ruffle as you move around and then the sound of a hand sliding over soft sheets. Warmth touches his back. He tenses up, stays silent. You draw paths along his back, feeling him up. Seeing him. Just like he did all those years ago when you were still masked soulmates aching to be together. It became a little thing between you and him to trace the other in darkness as to make out if it was your other half. You became so good at it these days.

Your touch dances up to the nape of his neck after exploring his upper back. Jungkook shivers and aches to lean into your touch. He is scared to do so now. He already waited for too long to speak up. You’ll know that he is intentionally acting asleep to avoid talking to you.

You close the distance, taking him into your arms to pull him against your chest. You are propped up on your elbow, using the position to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck so you could kiss him.

Jungkook exhales shakily, releasing all of his tension with a tremble. This just broke him. To be cradled and kissed. It broke him.

“Are you awake?” you whisper softly. The words swirl against his neck.

He nods his head.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

He hesitates. Should he be truthful? Will you be hurt if he was?

He shakes his head. He can’t lie to you. Not like this. Not when you hold him so safely. Not when you have broken him with your embrace.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m sorry”, he presses out and sobs softly.

“Hey”, you gasp, straightening up, “hey, are you crying? What’s wrong?” you babble and roll him to his back so you could cradle his cheeks. You wipe his tears away, keeping close by resting your chest against his’, “what’s wrong, Bunny?”

“I’m sorry for tonight. I’m so sorry for being late and, and not showing up. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, hey it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. The flight was delayed. You couldn’t have known.”

“I saw the food”, he confesses and squeaks sadly, “I didn’t show up, I’m so sorry. I should have texted sooner, I should have-”

“How could you have texted me sooner if you didn’t even know that the flight would be delayed?”

Jungkook falters. He sniffles repeatedly, taking sharp gasps for air to regulate his breathing. What you say makes sense to him. He didn’t even think of it yet, despite it being the most logical explanation. So it was his anxiety disorder kicking in.

You caress his left cheek while your right hand guides your pointer finger up and down along the bridge of his nose. You call this touch your magic touch because there is some sort of magic in it to calm down any sort of anxiety Jungkook experiences. Jungkook flutters his eyes closed and sighs as comfort overtakes him.

“Now tell me how you should have texted me sooner, mhm?” you ask in a soft, comforting voice.

“I don’t know”, Jungkook whispers.

“Of course you don’t, it’s impossible. The flight was delayed. It was an unfortunate series of events and not your fault”, you assure him, “unless you intentionally stayed away. Mhm is that it? Did you not wanna see me already, you sneaky Bunny?” you add in a joking tone, making Jungkook giggle.

He shakes his head, “no Mommy, I wanted to see you.”

“Good”, you say in a fond voice and claim his lips in a smooch.

Jungkook gasps because he hadn’t expected it. The feeling finally seeps into his consciousness. He is kissing you. After thirty three days without you, he is finally kissing you again. Jungkook whimpers and hooks his fingers behind your head, deepening the kiss with trembling lips. He is kissing you again. He is finally realizing that this is happening, that he is back with you. He hooks his arms behind your head and pulls you closer, asking for your taste. You part your lips and meet his begging tongue, while your fingers explore the softness of his hair.

You feel a little dizzy from sleep. You didn’t have the deepest sleep tonight because you knew that Jungkook would come home and you subconsciously refused to find deep sleep. So when Jungkook got into bed, the rustling of his blanket woke you. The pull was instant. You needed to feel him, make sure that he was finally with you again. Your body didn’t expect to be in the current position for such a long time. Your arms are weak and your head is dizzy.

You break the kiss because exhaustion makes you do it.

Jungkook chases you, rolling you and him over so he was the one on top. His right arm rests around you just a little under your breasts, his left hand is cradling your cheek while his right hand is deepening in your hair as best as your texture allows it. He claims your lips in a kiss again, whimpering into it as his body seeks your closeness. Two layers of blanket are keeping you apart. Jungkook doesn’t think, he merely acts and pulls his blanket off of him. Next your blanket. He opens it and slides his arm under it. He takes you softly in his hand and presses you against him at the same time as his body sinks under your blanket. He trembles. It is so warm under your covers and from what he can feel, you are wearing one of his sleep shirts. He grabs a bundle of it and twists, needing you to be so much closer than you already are.

“Please”, he begs in a shaky voice, tugging at your shirt.

You sit up far enough that you can take off your shirt. You throw it to the side and fall back down.

“Thank you”, Jungkook whimpers and cradles you against his chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and places his right hand on the back of your head to support it for you.

You wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding in. You have him back. This is how your Jungkook hugs. Thirty three days without him are unbearably long. So long in fact that your skin started to unwillingly forget the warmth and softness of him. It comes rushing back again now that you are hugging without barriers.

“___”, Jungkook croaks and presses you closer, “oh god.”

“I missed you too”, you whisper, burying your hand deep in his hair. You pull him closer. Your breasts squish against his chest, the pressure feels like heaven. It gets easier to breathe and releases you of tension you didn’t even know you possessed. You have your Jungkook back.

Jungkook feels overwhelmed. He ached for your hug ever since he left. Thirty three days without you were hell. You are his constant in his life. When he comes home from work, you are there, hugging him and talking to him and falling asleep with him. When he leaves for work, you are right by his side, talking to him and kissing his cheek as he drops you off at university. When he has free time, he knows he can spend it with you. You are always there. You are his constant. The person who will always be by his side. The warmth he can always return to. So to go without you for more than a month was hell.

“I missed you so much”, he confesses.

“Me too, Bunny. Me too.”

You felt just as lonely without him. Years ago, you wouldn’t have batted an eye at the thought of being along for a month, but Jungkook changed you in the most wonderful of ways. He is your person, the comfort you most look forward to, the home you never want to leave. You have him by your side in the morning and have him back again by the evening. You share the last second of consciousness with him before sleep and share the first right after. And for the last month, you didn’t. You had to live without him and it was agony.

“Closer”, Jungkook begs, “I wanna be closer.”

“Closer?”

“Closer please.”

“Lie down on your side.”

Jungkook obeys, keeping his arms around you. You seek him and slide your hand to his length. You brush your fingers over his tip, eliciting a trembling gasp from him. A small whimper follows.

“This kind of closer?”

“Yes”, he squeaks and grabs whatever he can of your upper back.

“I missed this feeling. You’re so soft.”

“I missed you too. Ah please.”

“Kook…”

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

His left hand naturally dances down your body, trying to locate your clit. You drape your leg around him, giving him access. He connects his fingers with your heat, sending electricity through you.

“Holy fuck, I’m sensitive”, you get out and moan. You take his cock and begin jerking it. He grows hard rapidly. Just as you soak his fingers at a rapid speed. You want him. He wants you. Too long you had to go without each other.

“Me too. Ah mhm”, he gets out and buries two of his fingers inside you.

“Bunny….”

“Mommy…”

You cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his face and stub his nose with your own. Your hands work desperately between your bodies, the tension is growing embarrassingly fast.

“Bunny, I missed you so much”, you keen and squeeze your eyes shut. It feels so good. His long fingers are filling you up while his thumb is rubbing circles on your clit. He is so sloppy and needy in his touch, which makes it all the better.

“Me too, Mommy”, Jungkook gets out and whimpers, “oh god.”

Your hand is fast around his cock. You are calculated on normal days, but not tonight. There is no coordination in how you touch him, just pure and honest desperation.

“I don’t wanna cum like this”, you croak.

“Close?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid. Fuck”, you slide your hand to his hair so you could twist.

Jungkook moans, tilting his head back all on his own while his pouty lips brush against yours. You kiss without really kissing. Just featherlight touches, tickling moans and traces of your tongues. The tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You clench down on his fingers, feeling his cock throb in your hold.

“Bunny, I need your cock.”

“I need your pussy too, Mommy.”

“Good. Take out your fingers.”

Jungkook obeys, touching your hip instead. Neither of you care about the wet mess he leaves on your skin. It’s just another proof that you and he are finally reconnected again.

“Good boy”, you praise and shimmy down just a little so you can take his cock inside. There is no friction, no struggle, no pain. Just warmth and overwhelming pleasure.

“Holy fuck”, you whisper and push him in deeper. Past your entrance. Your warm walls engulf him.

Jungkook grabs you and accidentally scratches you. He couldn’t help it. He is with you again. No one feels like you. No one does.

“Ah!” the sound bounces off the walls. He trembles and pulls you closer, “Mommy.”

“Bunny.”

“Oh god, I’m home”, he whimpers and starts chasing you.

Your leg is still around him, his thrusts go so deep like this. You are so filled up with him, so stuffed. You are eye to eye even if the complete darkness prevents you from seeing each other. But you don’t need light to see each other. Not you and not Jungkook. You have your hands and fingertips to see. You started it back in the stuffy sex club room you met in and perfected it over the years in your loving home. You know exactly how he looks right now and in return he knows as well.

“Bunny, oh god, my Jungkookie”, you get out and shake, pulling him closer by his hair. The darkness makes it feel all the more intense as you claim his lips in a passionate tongue kiss. The sounds of it mix with the desperate rutting your hips are doing. The rustling of the sheets is audible as well, as are the needy moans both of you choke out constantly.

You are hot under the covers. Sweat has formed on the parts where you are pressed together. You pull each other closer regardless, basking in the heat because you had to live without it for far too long. This is the only way to melt with each other.

“I love you”, Jungkook gets out and kisses you again.

“-love- too”, is all you get out between your hungry kisses, but Jungkook knows regardless. Even without words he would know. From your kisses, your embrace and the way your pussy is convulsing around him. Jungkook knows every ridge, every bump, every inch of how you feel inside and being allowed to experience it right now is the only proof of love he needs. He is the man who you allowed to go in raw, even back when you pretended not to care. You claimed him and sealed his sweetest fate. You loved him enough that you wanted to be without barriers and you love him enough that you welcome him home right now.

“You feel so good”, you moan and rut against him before your lips suck on his lower lip needily.

Jungkook whimpers, spilling tears of ecstasy. He fucks into you, feeling his legs shake. He is so high on you.

This is fucking for the sake of reconnecting. This is emotional. Deeply, soul-consumingly emotional. Is it kinky? No. Will either of you last long? No. Will it stay in your minds as one of the most intense nights ever? Yes. Yes it fucking will. This is the kind of desperate, needy, passionate sex you can only have after you have been without each other for a long time. It is dumb. It is raw. It is carnal and it is the only good thing which comes out of having to be without the other. Because no amount of foreplay, kink or fetish will ever get you to the level of starvation than forced distance does.

And you are starving. Oh, you are parched and aching for each other. Jungkook fucks you as hard as he can, while you rut against him as roughly as you can. It results in these deep, fiery thrusts, which fills you with all his cock and in return makes him experience every inch of your pussy.

You are burning up today. You are hot around him, as if you had a fever. Jungkook can barely breathe because of it, gasping for air between his desperate moaning. And you are soaking wet. Soft too. So soft. Jungkook scratches down your back and pulls you closer. His left hand cups your buttock and stills your hips this way. He pushes. The kiss breaks with your needy moan. You roll to your back just enough that Jungkook can prop himself up on his right elbow and use the angle to finally bottom out. Truly bottom out because the position finally gives him a chance to do so. Your leg is still around him, while the other is under his weight. You can feel his sculpted thigh shift and tense as he fucks you. His thrusts are sloppy and so perfectly uncoordinated that they seem coordinated. The mattress shakes because of it.

You barely feel it because he is currently fucking the senses out of you. This is the kind of fuck which reminds you why he managed to steal your heart and the proof of why you could never want to leave him. It genuinely fucks every sense of control out of you and turns you into the neediest, wettest pillow princess in existence. Tonight it impacts you especially deeply, leaving you to arch your back and curl your toes.

“Bunny”, you moan embarrassingly high pitched, throwing your head back as best as possible while Jungkook shows off the strength of his hips, “Bunny, oh god. Ah Bunny.”

“Mommy. So good, ah Mommy”, Jungkook moans and drops his head into the crook of your neck. He pulls you closer until your head rests on his right lower arm and you have his biceps brushing against your nose. The gentle headlock he has you in heals you from aches you didn’t even possess before. You are so safe like this. He smells hot. As if he is burning up.

“Bunny…”

You are burning up yourself, grasping his broad, muscular back as your only connection to sanity. He is making you cum and it’s happening soon.

“Don’t stop, please”, you beg.

“Mommy”, he moans and continues because he won’t ever ignore one of your begs. You don’t beg often, so when you do, Jungkook is overtaken with the need to fulfill your every wish. Which means a lot because he always wants to fulfill your every wish.

“You’re making me cum”, you choke out and sob softly as you hug him against you.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out and squeezes you strongly as your body falls into the high. You are so tight around him, burning up and throbbing. No wonder you are sobbing. Jungkook has to grit his teeth from how intense your orgasm feels to him and he isn’t even the one experiencing it. And there is one problem right now. He still needs it longer. He doesn’t know if he is holding back because he is greedy for more or if his body is just working this way right now, but he isn’t done even when you are already coming down. He needs more. He wants you longer.

You are soaking his cock, pulsating around him as you slowly recover and it’s fucking messing with him. He needs you. He needs you so bad.

Jungkook uses his strength and rolls you onto your back completely. His cock leaves you for a second, but you barely feel the disconnection as the darkness and your passed high leave you disoriented. Your legs are spread open, giving Jungkook a chance to take his cock and push it inside again.

Now you feel it. Now you’re whole again. You whimper, tensing up around him.

“Not done yet”, he rasps with his hand twisting the pillow next to your head. He bottoms out and chases you instantly. Fast and hard. He fucks the juices out of you, filling the air with the sounds of it just as he fills it with the sinful sounds of his naked body impacting with yours. The bed is sturdy and yet still croaks. His throaty grunts and guttural growls fill your ears as well. You know for a fact that he is frowning right now, gritting his teeth because he always does so when he fucks hard.

“Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, he fucks his name out of you. He is fucking his cock right against the spots which steal your sanity. You can’t stop getting wetter because of it. Every second with him feels fucking orgasmic, “Jungkook! Ah! Jungkook!”

You grip his arm. His muscles are so tense, bulging under your fingers as he drills you like an animal.

“Jun-Ju-Jungkoo-ook.”

“Yeah, keep moaning my name Mommy”, he growls deeply and curses, “fuck, this is…fuck.”

“Jungkook, ah god Jungkook.”

“That’s it, Mommy. That’s it, keep moaning my name”, he encourages you and rewards you with harsher thrusts. Of course this wasn’t his final form yet. Not Jungkook. Not your husband. He will make you believe that the sex couldn’t get any better before showing you not to underestimate him. He fucks you deep into the mattress just as he fucks you deep into a blurred state of ecstasy.

You are utterly and entirely his right now. And you fucking like it, moaning his name as he rewrites your definition of pleasure one harsh thrust at a time.

“I missed you”, he is using his deep voice to talk, “I thought of you, urgh, of you being mhm being cockstuffed with me, ah mhm I’m going crazy, Mommy. Fuck.”

He could tell you everything right now and you would barely take it in. Your brain doesn’t work. You are so dumb right now. So utterly stupid. If you weren’t on your back, you would have drooled. Instead you sob his name and writhe desperately.

“Fuck”, Jungkook spits and growls. His hips stutter for only a second. This is how long he needs to find his composure again and then he is already drilling you again, pushing your body closer and closer to your orgasms, “have to go again?”

“Ye-yeah”, you keen, arching your back.

“Let go Mommy, I’m right here”, he tells you and cradles your cheek.

The touch is all that was missing. You break apart with a loud moan of his name and your fingers desperately twisting his hair. He fucked it out of you from the deepest parts of you, which makes it all the more intense. You can’t even moan as it happens. His name was all you managed to produce before your voice gave up on you. You can’t breathe either, lying there with your lips parted and your back arched as Jungkook drags heaven out of you.

Your second high gives him a hard time. The needy fucking he did brought him to the point where he has to let go even if he wanted to hold back longer. His cock aches, his balls feel tight and the tension in his stomach has reached a painful level. While your lungs aren’t working right now, his’ are working overtime, producing the neediest, quickest pants for air. He takes a deep breath and exhales it through his mouth, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna cum inside”, he moans in a pitched voice. His hips stutter, but don’t lose speed, “gonna creampie your pussy so hard. Holy fuck, Mommy.”

You wrap your legs around him, closing your arms around him as well while your left hand buries itself deep in his hair and your right grabs his tense ass. You are barely present yet, but the need to feel him paint your walls gives you enough strength to pull him close.

“I love you”, he chokes out and lets go. He isn’t silent like you were. He is loud. Oh so loud that after a few seconds he needs to muffle himself by sucking on your neck.

“I love you too”, you whimper, “my loving counterpart.”

“Oh”, he sobs and pulls you closer, “my soulmate”, he squeaks and tenses up again, “no-not done. Ah!”

“Let it all out, fill me up Bunny. Please don’t hold back.”

Jungkook paints you white until it drips out of you and his body’s strength forsakes him. The comedown is intense. Because Jungkook never stopped fucking you even after your high stopped, you never got to calm down and because Jungkook fucked himself to the point of ruin he feels just as needing for your embrace.

“Are you okay?” he whimpers.

“Yeah. You?” you get out.

“Yeah.”

He shivers and twitches on top of you, blanketing you in under his body weight and the real covers. They slipped off his back in the rough fucking so that now, they are only covering your lower bodies. You don’t feel cold because you have him keeping you warm.

Neither you nor him can talk for the first few minutes, sharing forced silence as your brains try to relearn how to speak. His ears are ringing, you can feel your pulse in your head. You are both sweaty, the heat grows in your bodies now that you are so melted together. His cock softens slowly, still filling you up and keeping most of his seed inside. Good. You don’t want him to leave yet.

You finally have him back after more than a month and you would be a fool to break the connection sooner than necessary. You know that sooner or later you will have to stop this. Not only because of your important post-sex pee, but also because Jungkook can’t fall asleep like this.

At least this is what you believe. Jungkook is in the midst of drifting off to sleep. Jetlag, stress and exhaustion are finally catching up with him. Now that his mind is cleared of that initial dulling desire for you, it is finally truly sinking in that he is back home. And being back home means comfort and sleep. Still being inside and having you cockwarm him while your fingers are drawing hearts on his back forces even more sleepiness to the surface. He is home. Sleep can finally come.

“Bunny?” you whisper, scratching up his back gently. Goosebumps follow your touch. He shudders as you drag shivers out of him.

“Hm”, the sound barely wants to leave him. It tickles your neck.

“Are you falling asleep?”

He nods his head slowly.

“Don’t”, you chuckle softly, shaking him by his back gently, “the post sex pee.”

“I’m tired”, he breathes and sighs, “so tired. Work…hell.”

“I know, Bunnybaby I know. But spending your break from it having an UTI is gonna suck.”

“Not yet. Please.”

You give up fighting him, exhaling deeply through your nose. He sounds so needing of what you currently have. You need it as well.

“Fine”, you say and fish for the blanket to pull it over your bodies, “a few more minutes.”

You hug him against you, cradling the back of his head. Jungkook sighs and relaxes on top of you.

“I fucking missed you, Kook.”

“I missed you too.”

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pinkheartist · 8 months ago

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Imagine the SAGAU with Mitsuri! Reader? :3 (Part one?)

TW: mentions of Eating disorder, but mostly fluff and comfort. OCC characters??? Idk

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You’re self-aware of how much you truly eat, it’s not your fault, really! But when it comes to your favorite characters, you can’t help but feel a little insecure about it. You already had problems with that in the past, the feeling of people constantly judging the amount of food you ate was stuck in your mind and others saying that you had the appetite of a dragon wasn’t nice to your confidence. What if they start to appreciate you less as the almighty creator? would they be disgusted by this habit of yours?

With that possibility in mind, you reprimed your appetite and stuck to the plan of eating as few as possible, sometimes not even eating half of the plate they would offer to you properly. You really thought no one would notice? truly naive of you. They first thought you didn’t like the food, but after noticing your eyes glimmering and your mouth watering at the food before you shake your head and refuse it, they realized it was more complex than just a matter of personal taste.

Ei was the first to take the initiative alongside Nahida to try and talk to you about it. She may seem intimidating, but deep inside there is still a golden heart lying behind her stoic face. With a bit of persistence from Nahida’s part, they managed to get answers from you. The Electro and Dendro Archons comforted you, Ei gave you a portion of Kuki’s famous chocolate chip cookies that she bought, this was the best she could do since her cooking was awful, and Nahida affirmed that no matter how big your appetite was, they would still love you as their creator no matter what. They both wipe your tears away after you cry from relief, that the possibility of them shaming you from who you are never came…

The other Archons also joined the party. When you said you had the appetite of a dragon, Zhongli was left confused until you told him what it meant (He’s a little too literal). “There is nothing to be ashamed about. Your enormous strength must come from eating a bigger amount of food, right? Then, you should continue eating as much as you like. Don’t waste your ability to hear on those pesky little comments on your body, you are absolutely perfect in my point of view, Your Grace” The Geo dragon said, and trust me when i say that he would personally throw his polearm at the person who even thought of looking at you the wrong away while you eat at least 3 plates of (favorite meal)

If you said you would get heavy if you eat so much, Venti would use his Anemo powers to make you fly, seeing you smile from the fun you were having was like a Cupid’s arrow striking right in his heart (again). “See? You’re light enough for the wind to carry you, so I don’t want to hear you calling yourself heavy again. You are very much deserving of compliments, more then you think you are! I assure you that” Venti demanded after safely putting you down. “But-” “No buts!” Venti interrupted you before you could say any nonsense about yourself. As the self-proclaimed most devoted and loyal Archon you had, he would never bring himself to let you put yourself down like that

Furina did the best she does to make your feel better: Put up the best of her performances to take even the slightest of the smiles off from you. You can’t say it didn’t worked, the show was amazing! And after the show, Furina offered you a piece of (favorite flavour) cake that she brought from the best bakery there is on Fontaine, along with some macarronis made by herself and tea. “I’m banning any degradetive words with the slightest reference to you, and that rule also will apply to you!“ she exclamed “M-Me?“ You stuttered “Yes! Such blasphemy about the magnificent divine shoudn’t leave from any person’s mouth, specially when you’re the one doing it“ Her blue eyes softened as getting lost on yours “...Don’t say such things about yourself, it breaks my heart to see you blinded by insecurety, not seeing how stunning you are..“

Mavuika was surprised by the way you honestly described yourself. Of course, she did expected you to be humild on your own description, but not so lowly to the point you compare yourself to a monster, and for what? For eating 3 more than proper meals everyday plus a ton snacks? That’s ridiculous!! who put that thought on your head? She’ll hunt this person like there is no tomorrow. But jokes aside, “Hey, it’s not something you can exactlly control, can you? Everybody works differently. And your apitite is something unique, a thing that difies you from the rest, in a good way!“ she ruffles you hair, grinning widely at your flustered expression “Plus, the way you get so excited over the diverse cusines around Teyvat, and your eating face are the most adorable thing in the world!“

________________ꨄ_________________

Ummmmm…Yeah, srry if it’s bad i haven’t write for a century. If you’d like me posting more of those, please let me know :3 Baiii ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Tag list

??? (I’m too shy to tag someone lol)

#genshin impact sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact x reader #mitsuri kanroji #Mitsuri! reader #sagau x reader #genshin impact #genshin venti #genshin zhongli #genshin ei #genshin nahida #genshin furina #genshin mavuika #genshin archon

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mclacedes · 6 months ago

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A Fading Echo (LH44)

CHAPTER I: Taste Karma.

hello beautiful babes! here's a little something i've been wanting to write for a while now and just flew out of me randomly!! hope you enjoy this and hope this makes any sense at all :)

warnings: breakup, abu dhabi ‘24, lewis leaving mercedes, lewis in ferrari, lack of XNDA songs, partner moving on.

“it isn't only how he died, but that he died believing. and so i try to be kind to everything i see. and in everything i see, i see him.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, “A Little Life”

this is slightly inspired by Hanya Yanagihara's book "A Little Life", but THIS IS NOT A RECOMMENDATION from me and THIS DOES NOT mean I like that book at all !!!

also, there's a part II for it, so lmk if you like it :)

End of season. Last race. Last race with Mercedes.

This was the end of an era, but the start of an age. A new chapter in this long book, filled with broken records and (un)fulfilled dreams.

There was only last thing he wanted though. A thing he’d never done.

To release an album.

+44, his first album, would come out in a few hours and nobody even knew it.

Lewis had poured countless hours into it, refining each lyric, melody, and harmony until every note fitted just right.

Every detail was thoroughly planned, every step thoughtfully envisioned. The photoshoot was booked, the interview responses rehearsed, the songs were ready. But one day, he realized the only thing that should be put together — his very self — was melting, breaking apart into millions of pieces of longing, sorrow, wrath and regret.

This should be a moment of fun, a moment of celebration, but the only thing he’d think about is how this album only exists because, at one point, he had you — the best thing that ever happened to him, his confidant, his partner in crime.

But, as of now, there's no you in his life and, apparently, no space for him in yours.

Now you’re a fading echo, a ghost haunting every inch of his life, lurking in the back of his mind so he can get a glimpse of your broken-hearted gaze in your salted-water-drowned eyes when he closes his.

Your laugh still echoes through the paddocks around the world; he still knows every word of the prayer you’d mutter every time he climbed into the cockpit. You are in his houses, cars, clothes, and everything he is now—a wreckage.

There's a simple routine he follows, absentmindedly, now that you're gone: he smiles when he sees you in a small detail of his life; then his heart tightens painfully, suffocating him. When the stars fall at night, he lies awake in the darkness of his room and his own mind, clutching the pillow you once slept on, desperately trying to grasp some semblance of solace and familiarity. Lewis lingers there, until your vanilla scent fades away completely as he drifts into the restless awareness of his subconscious—his dreams, in which you've never left and still loved him. In his perfect, tailor-made utopia, you can bring yourself to look into his eyes and say you forgive him.

But reality has other plans. Like always.

He just wanted to get through today.

Yes, the Universe is vast and gracious, munificent and indulgent, and Lewis knows this. But, today, his last race with Mercedes in a track that holds so much memory, the Universe had made its mind: the winds of fate would play a trick on him.

This morning, after waking from a dream of you in your favorite park in France, laughing about babies and tracing shapes in the clouds, he never imagined he’d want to leave the paddock as soon as he entered it.

On the drive to Yas Marina, it hadn’t crossed his mind that he might see you, hand in hand with that one actor—Jensen Ackles—who you used to gush over.

As he signed caps, mini helmets, and photos for his fans, not for a single moment did he expect to catch sight of you in the paddock, wearing rosso corsa, cheering on Ferrari—Ferrari, of all teams. The same red team you used to roll your eyes at. The same red team that the man beside you had so often boasted about supporting. The same team that he had signed a contract with.

None of it had been his choice, and yet his entire body betrayed him the moment his eyes landed on you; as though someone had fastened his feet to the ground, he was unable to walk. He not only couldn’t move, but he felt like air didn't get to his lungs so he couldn't breathe, and there was nothing more interesting than the scene in from of him so he couldn’t look away.

For a second there, he wished you were ugly. He wished your eyes didn’t glisten when you honestly found something funny, that your dress didn't perfectly frame your body, and your teeth were broken. He wished there were flaws he could cling to, reasons to justify hating you; he wished he could have the strength within himself to fall out of love. But you were too unattainable for him to let go.

And, God, you were glowing. Your smile beamed, your hair fell perfectly just the way he likes it, and then—what. is. that?

Your hand laid slightly over your belly.

Your left hand rested on your belly, right where your womb would be.

Your left hand, with its delicate fingers, bore a ring—a massive diamond that caught the sunlight in a cruel, mocking glint.

And then there was him. Jensen Ackles, the so-called antichrist, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you like you belonged to him. His hold was possessive, unyielding, as though he’d fight tooth and nail to keep you. But he did seem like he was happy. And the worst part about it is that you seemed too.

Lewis’s heart rate spiked, pounding in his chest, his thoughts racing faster than the W15 ever could.

“Is she pregnant? They're engaged? Are they married already? When is the baby due?”

And then, just before he turned away, one final thought slipped through the chaos in his mind: taste karma.

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darkersolstice · 11 days ago

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On Devotion

It's interesting to me, how the concept of slavish devotion to one person is depicted multiple times in Wind Breaker. How 'you are my world' is a demand and a lament all at once. How 'you were my world' is painful, but also a sign of growth.

Spoilers for the manga ahead. No, this was not the next essay I had planned on writing.

Sugishita

The first example of 'submissive like a guard dog' devotion we see is Sugishita, toward Umemiya. In the beginning of canon, it can be argued that Umemiya is the only person within Sugishita's world--though it's acknowledged that he tolerates the other Four Kings, hanging onto the group to bask in the light of Umemiya's dream.

It's recent chapters that have pulled this back, with Sakura being acknowledged as cool, and Umemiya counseling Sugishita quite explicitly that he's not just allowed to change, but that doing so is a good thing. Because it is a good thing! And part of the reason why that's called out is the need for tension to encourage growth:

If someone is the center of your worship, you can't really broaden your horizons while remaining solely focused on them, can you? And Umemiya calls out how Sakura's horizons have been broadened recently.

With Sugishita, the story we're getting is one of the least unhealthy examples of this trope (look, we've got Endo's relationship with Takashii coming up in this essay), but like. A significant part of that is that the object of devotion is aware of the emotions in play, and wants to encourage him to self-actualize. That's not always the case, though.

Sako

This next example is a bit different because the pedestal was broken before canon begun. Sako would have done anything for Hiragi, wanted to be part of the force pushing him to the top of Furin. There was so much pressure building up there...and then Hiragi himself popped the balloon.

Sako read this as a rejection of him, because he'd tied up his personhood in the idea of rolling Hiragi up that hill to the top. It wasn't, though, as we saw with Kaji who followed Hiragi regardless.

There's an interesting thought during the fight between Hiragi and Sako in the Shishitoren arc. Sako screams that "There's no way I'd lose to someone who willingly bows to someone else!!!" But that's who he was before Hiragi cut him loose. This is as much an expression of self-loating as anything else.

We get the chance to contrast Sako with Kaji, among Hiragi's followers. When told he didn't need to follow, Kaji's reaction was the equivalent of a middle finger while enrolling in Furin. Which shows a healthier sort of response to the apparent-rejection than Sako's complete repudiation of Hiragi and everything he stands for now.

"If I chose to go with you, would you have cared for me the same way?" Dumbass, he showed you a very violent loving care back in the Shishitoren arc. He wouldn't have agreed to that fight if it didn't matter to him. And like, to Hiragi, the words "come with me" probably didn't have the weight they did to Sako, but they healed a rift that neither of them is quite emotionally articulate enough to acknowledge directly.

...except in the case of Sako to Inugami. Guess his world is getting broader, too.

Togame

The Togame Jo we're introduced to in the Shishitoren arc is not Togame as he wants to be. He has become shut down and bitter and brutal and hard, because that is what he perceives as the version of himself that Tomiyama needs.

It was not asked of him, that he become the metaphorical executioner, the grim reaper, the one to cull the weak from the Shishitoren herd. It was a task he chose, intending for Tomiyama to remain innocent and blameless in the eyes of the gang. And as he fell into this role, he lost the plot, allowing his gang to become saturated with bullies. Togame still has a moral compass, even behind his rose yellow-tinted glasses, and having to be the monster hurts him.

But he will do it for Tomiyama.

Going back to the beginning to re-read the Shishitoren arc, I found this panel, which is going to haunt me a little, I think:

Tomiyama never wanted a blind devotee in Togame, he wanted someone who'd challenge him, whereas Togame's view of the future was more like this:

There's something I said back in one of my past rambles about food, that Togame is the one providing food among Shishitoren leadership, and revisiting these two views of reaching the top makes me wonder if we won't someday see a role reversal, with Togame being the top of Shishitoren over Tomiyama.

ANYWAY, this essay isn't for speculation, it's for seeing what is and what was.

Maybe in another world, Togame might have chosen to walk, but in this one, he is not a devotee of power--he's a devotee of Tomiyama, and so he decides to become the executioner, to set his morals aside in the name of serving his sun.

(Side note: the juxtaposition of the ideals of freedom and their base being "the cage" merits further chewing later.)

(Side note, now I want to write a fanfic in which he does walk away, and perhaps ends up interacting with Roppo Ichiza and Gravel?)

What breaks him from this worldview is a.) someone pointing out how far his lapse of morals has allowed Shishitoren to fall, to the point where they're beating up on junior high kids for the fun of it and b.) Sakura qua Sakura. Because the boy's power as a protagonist isn't just throwing punches, it's calling things like he sees them and not accepting the pre-existing state of his world.

Of course, like he did with Sugishita, Sakura forces Togame to look outside his tight focus on Tomiyama, becoming part of a more healthy Shishitoren. Though as many fanfiction writers have noted, there's a certain tension between Togame and Sakura which could easily shift into something more like romance. There's a reason we see Togame and Sakura talking about the Noroshi attack in a way we don't see laid out as thoroughly as for Gravel or Roppo Ichiza; the connection those two have is important.

(...once again I feel obligated to point out that Tomiyama isn't the one Sakura has that conversation with. I keep chewing on this bit about how, like. Being the strongest isn't the only criteria needed for a leader, and that's already going to be a chunk of Sakura's arc, isn't it?

Also, while I'm digressing, Togame gets a glimpse into what Nirei and Suo learned about Sakura by visiting him while he was sick, in seeing Sakura struggle with a Ramune. He has never had many of the comforts and cultural touchpoints that most kids their age have.)

It's interesting that they're on a rooftop and explicitly outside the cage, isn't it?

All of this is setting us up for the current chapters, where Togame is living his best life: he's cut his hair, he's providing food for people in his town, he's not hiding behind tinted glasses, and he's in the perfect position to be giving advice to Sakura. I don't think his story is complete (probably clear for all the stuff I've been saying, huh?), but he's in a lot better place now that he's not just following orders and compromising his moral core to do so.

Endo

Ah, and now we reach the ultimate peak of slavish devotion, don't we? The complete simp with eyes for no one but his partner. This is the darkest form of this trope we've seen so far, and might be the most fascinating, a pure Masochism Tango, falling in love with a black hole and letting it swallow you.

Endo likes the idea of that sort of pure focus on one person, centering them in your world, thinking it a form of pure connection. Hell, he even idealizes a moment of that sort of thing with Sakura, during their fight:

But if your world is only one person, that's an awfully limited thing, isn't it? We all need people to challenge us, to help us grow. And after his fight with Sakura, Endo has just. one. more. person. he's willing to see and acknowledge besides Takashii.

What he wants for Sakura is for him to be just as closed off and selfish. For him to become "a blazing inferno that consumes everything it touches indiscriminately", like Takashii is. Here's the thing: Endo knows he's part of that 'everything it touches', with Takashii. He doesn't have a concept of what a future together could look like in a healthy relationship, he's just indulging in this maelstrom of destruction in order to watch his firework glow.

And on some level, he's fully conscious of how fucked up the situation is, but in his words...

It's infatuation, not love, and even he can acknowledge it! But that doesn't stop him from his destructive choices.

And he becomes infatuated with Sakura, too, during their fight. But it's the same sort of completely batshit infatuation that doesn't make either of them better as people. On Endo's end, he literally thinks, "I've decided I need to have you. That's why, right now, I need to absolutely destroy you." There's the seed of an idea there that if he can dominate Sakura completely, he will be able to take ownership of him, disillusioning him of the Bofurin ideals and turning him into the same sort of monster Takashii is.

(Which would never work with how much Sakura has grown at this point in the story. He has allowed the views of those outside Furin to help shape his worldview, honing it more. He's rejected the ideals that both Gravel and Roppo Ichiza were operating under during the fight on Keisei Street, and proven that he is capable of making Smart Choices that even Umemiya couldn't.)

At the end of the Noroshi arc, Endo is still an obsessive devoted dog, but one who now has a second object of his obsession--this is so clearly contrasted against Sugishita, who resolves to grow and become more by no longer avoiding the things that are mere annoyances to him.

(There's also room to use Sugishita as a foil for Takashii, wrt being really closed off from the world and seeing most things as a bother. But that's another essay for another day, isn't it?)

Other Thoughts

There's other characters in the series who are fiercely loyal, but whose devotion isn't the same sort of singleminded focus that I've been talking about, and I feel like it's worth it to acknowledge them too.

In another manga or anime, Nirei would end up as a hanger on sort, a cheerleader, someone who's just there to be an audience surrogate and protectee. But instead, we see an actual example of Nirei punching Sakura in the middle of the Endo fight, to tell him he's being a complete dumbass and doesn't need to take everything in the world on himself.

Tsubaki has a crush on Umemiya (and let's be real, who doesn't?), but it never is the sole defining point of his character. He is allowed to have his own story, his own background, his cool after-school job and relationships with people on Keisei street, entirely outside his feelings for Ume. It feels like one of the healthiest crushes that exists in the show.

I mentioned Kaji briefly while talking about Sako. While he definitely feels like he owes it to Hiragi for allowing him to feel like he can be human, instead of a beast, he's been forced to grow beyond the point where that's what matters about him, by being a grade captain. He has to keep a broader worldview, because he has his class to worry about.

I dunno, I just think this theme of healthy loyalty vs. unhealthy obsession is really cool, and deserves to be discussed more.

#wbk analysis #wbk spoilers #wind breaker #meta commentary #come and get your food

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secriden · 5 months ago

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Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, I'm so grateful for the journey Fadel is forced to take in episode 9. In previous meta posts, I shared my thoughts on how the show chose to tackle previous discussions about 'love': for eg Episode 4 was really a promise of safety (which tragically becomes unfounded) and Episode 5 was really an exploration of trust and trust betrayed -- but I think Episode 9 is finally when we are dealing with love in a head-on collision between Style's unflinching commitment to stay by Fadel's side and Fadel's anger and fear of loving; a conflict which utterly demolished the last of Fadel's crumbling walls.

Because, while Episode 8 did give us this beautifully tender moment of shared camaraderie -- one where they were both filled with wonder at witnessing the way love can overcome hurt and anger, the way forgiveness can make a pathway to happiness; and a moment they were both aware of and wordlessly acknowledged to each other -- it was, unfortunately, also almost immediately tainted by this:

You can see the resignation and cynicism in the way Fadel is holding himself. This wasn't a betrayal from Style, but it was a harsh reminder for Fadel that love can be deceptive and harmful no matter the guise. Even when it (love) isn't aimed at him, he winds up betrayed (deceived) and in danger, and literally hurting (it's the first time Fadel overtly shows how much pain his broken arm is causing him), and it makes sense why we see Fadel harden once again after this point.

And as frustrating as it was for us to watch, I'm also glad that the show made room for Fadel's retreat behind the last of his walls. Because at the core of Fadel's fear is the experience he’s had that love, and more importantly loving, has always brought him pain: the traumatic and sudden loss of his parents and the cruelty of a lover who (maybe? I have my suspicions...) chose not to stay with him were both lessons Fadel has deeply rooted in his heart; a fear which his desire and now love for Style is constantly at war with.

Which is why we see Fadel so firmly choosing resistance at this point. Everything about his demeanour and the harshness of his words depicts a cornered animal with his hackles raised in self-defence. You can almost see the bared teeth behind his words. He doubles down on the assurance that he will see this decision through, that Style is destined for death by his hands. It's interesting because in Episode 9, Fadel seems to have mostly given up on denying that he has any feelings for Style whenever it's brought up (partly because Style has already made it clear he doesn't believe Fadel when he does), but has instead decided to claim that those feelings aren't strong enough to save Style from Fadel's decision to kill him.

So I kind of love that the narrative immediately forces Fadel face the reality of his claims. For what better retribution could there be than Style dying by becoming tangled up in the very thing he was supposed to put Fadel in jail for? What could be more fitting then to see Style destroyed by the very aspect of Fadel's life that caused Style's betrayal?

And even more, I love that the writers chose to have Style become injured like this. Because of course the boyfriend of a hitman who is on the run from the law was going to be shot -- the trope practically demands it -- but it is just deliciously dramatic that Style gets injured precisely dressed in the clothes he'd picked out so he could "at least die in something that's actually my style" and in the place Fadel said Style would haunt only minutes prior. It forces Fadel to face not only the thought of losing Style, but puts front and centre what it means for Fadel to be the cause of that loss.

Because the thing is, Style only needs to be bait at all because Fadel forgot to bring the extra bullets for his gun; because he does not have a plan when Style asks what they should do. I love that all of Fadel's training, and even his fastidious and careful nature, is being fundamentally compromised because his mind has been too preoccupied with his complicated feelings for Style. Fadel is being forced to face the consequences of choosing to fight against his heart about Style, and that directly puts both their lives in peril. And all Fadel can do is look at Style with a wordless plea to stay safe, even as he watches Style run directly towards danger.

And I love that Style's immediate instinct is to throw himself into the situation to help. There's no hesitation, no momentary pause where Style considers running away and leaving Fadel to handle the gunman alone. Style fully embodies the promise he made to stay by Fadel's side and moreover it shows that, on an instinctive level, Style trusts his life in Fadel's hands (even though we get verbal confirmation later in the episode that Style actually was only about 50% sure that Fadel wasn't actually going to kill him in the end!! That's! Fucking incredible!?!).

Which is also why I think Fadel's anger redirects itself once they get to the island. He's at the end of his rope, a mess of emotions, arm probably still aching and then he sees Kant: the source of not only the very real threat of Fadel and Bison being caught by the police, but also the reason why Style became entangled with Fadel in the first place. Fadel cannot help but lash out at him despite it making no sense to deny Style an additional pair of helping hands and, moreover, the comfort of a true friend that he trusts and who cares about him. Fadel is not thinking clearly, but it's also a sign that the choices he is making are still fuelled more by his anger and hurt then his love.

And again, this makes a certain amount of sense. For Fadel, anger is a familiar friend; something almost comforting, that gives him a sense of control, because he understands what to do with his anger. He understands how to direct his rage in ways that are productive and help to keep the things he cares about safe.

Until, that is, Style puts his life on the line next to Kant's and suddenly the gun in his hand becomes a danger to someone he has already been forced to acknowledge (in the conversation with Bison) that he cannot kill. I adore Style so much for immediately bringing this point up, because it means that Fadel has to actually consider why he didn't just let Style die. If Style had bled out and died from the wound, it wouldn't have technically been Fadel's fault; Style was simply caught in the crossfire. It was, in some ways, a relatively guilt-free way of getting rid of Style. But everything in Fadel rebelled at the thought of letting Style die and Fadel is once again forced to confront why he held Style's hand so tightly in both of his own, why he told Bison to be gentle and careful with Style, why hearing Style yell in pain was agony to Fadel too.

And this beautiful moment of friendship also gives both us, the audience, and Fadel this incredible understanding of Style's loyalty. To Style, the thought of dying next to Kant is not something he resents, but something that merely makes him wistful. And for Fadel, this puts into perspective what it meant for Style to promise to stay by his side; the full weight of Style's devotion is laid out for him to witness, and it's enough to shake Fadel lose from the hold his anger has on him.

But even then, even now, there's still something holding Fadel back and I think it boils down to the fact that Fadel has gone down this path with someone else before, and found only betrayal at the end of the road. He has loved and thought he was loved in return; he was ready to give up his job (his security, his sense of control, his “family”) for someone who he thought he could hide his darkness from and live in happiness whilst keeping the lie between them. It's so interesting to me that Fadel was about to do the exact same thing to Style (try to get out of the hitman life without ever telling Style about it), without knowing that the possibility of it was never on the table for him.

Because Style is the very antithesis of Fadel's ex: not only does Style find out his secret well before love truly blossomed between them, Style has no fear in him (anymore) of it. This gesture is legitimately insane, but it also illustrates how thoroughly Style embraces this aspect of Fadel's past and character. Fadel has just learned a very tangible lesson about Style's loyalty to the people he cares about, so this gesture carries the weight of knowing this matters to Style, despite the carefree manner of his expression. Style gives Fadel the security of knowing that he is making his commitment to Fadel whilst also giving Fadel permission to stay the way he is. Style's love isn't for what Fadel could someday become, but for who he already is, and that encompasses a level of acceptance that is as crazy as one would expect from a person who is in love with a hitman.

And it's just so great that they actually addressed the whole "dated me for a car" thing, because Style is right. Fadel is grasping at the last embers of his anger but all of it is directed at a Style who doesn't even exist anymore. I don't even think Style was avoiding telling Fadel about this; it just genuinely was a non-issue to Style because getting to know Fadel changed so much about Style's motivations (he said as much as early as episode three), that this wasn't even a factor that Style was aware needed to be addressed. But I also appreciate why Fadel insisted on coming back to this -- because I've said before that I think the biggest part of Fadel's hurt and betrayal comes from the thought that Style's interest in him was a lie, so this was important for Fadel to vocalise, especially because it took a certain amount of vulnerability to even admit that this bothered him that much. So as silly as I personally found this plot point to be, I'm glad the show actually decided to have our boys talk explicitly about it.

But my absolutely favourite part is that the final hurdle, the thing that ultimately makes Fadel completely let go of his anger and resentment is Style threatening to drown himself (or at least make his wound become infected). Partly because it was the exact kind of hilariously overdramatic gesture that feels fitting for Style, but mostly because this gesture opens the door for Fadel to finally (literally) take steps towards Style. Fadel's previous actions in this episode -- making sure Style was stitched up after he was shot and letting Kant live after he threatened to kill him --- were both incredibly significant, but largely leaves the relationship between them at a stalemate because for the most part Fadel is reacting to the circumstances whilst still maintaining the emotional distance between them. But what Style wants, ultimately, is not just to survive this very lethal roadtrip but to actually bring about a mending of their relationship and for Fadel show that it's what he wants too.

And I've seen some call this manipulative, but I think Style actually does understand Fadel well enough to be accurate in this claim. I've mentioned before that Style seems to have an almost instinctive understanding of when to push Fadel and when to back off (in this meta post on ep 5), and I think we're finally seeing a moment when Style could tell Fadel needed a little nudge. And the reality is that Style wasn't in any real danger, but it shows us just how much of Fadel's walls have been dismantled that Fadel's concern for Style overwrote his logic and reason.

And I just find it so lovely how it cumulates in Fadel kissing Style because it's an expression of his own desire. If Fadel had kissed Style at any point between the confrontation by the empty pool and before this moment, I think it would have, at least somewhat, felt like Fadel was giving into Style's demands (for his attention, for his affection, for his forgiveness). But this moment is different because it's Fadel giving into himself -- because Fadel doesn't truly want to hold on to his anger anymore.

And this journey was so important, so necessary because it's the reason why Fadel is able to be so completely transformed by the end of episode 9. We see him become almost carefree in his affection, everything about it is open and honest and loud in a way Fadel has never been able to be before this point, and it was only possible -- only realistic from a narrative standpoint -- because the show took the time and made space in the story for Fadel to have to face the truth of his love for Style over and over again.

Because this vulnerability, this clear comfort he feels around Style, this ability to rest in Style's arms, was only possible because Fadel was forced to grapple with the full depth of his love for Style and found forgiveness and happiness and peace in letting go of the last of his fear of being in love — and in doing so, proved the truth of Styles words in episode 4: “It’s okay to (be in) love”.

#the heart killers #the heart killers the series #fadelstyle #fadel #style sattawat #thk meta #fadelstyle meta #hui talks thk #thk ep 9 #joongdunk #joong archen #dunk natachai #happy (lunar) new year to those of us who celebrate it!!#things have been very hectic for me but my boys were still often on my mind #i still feel like I need to rewatch ep 9 again but all of part 4/4 just made me so happy #Fadel being the softest most tenderly affectionate in such an open way really just made me feel so full of joy #and it was only possible because of all he went through in the narrative and I just enjoyed that so much #I’m so glad the show made so much space for Fadel to grapple with his emotions so his forgiveness felt earned and grounded

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thedemises · 23 days ago

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imagine self aware HSR where reader dies gets isekai'd there but no one knows about it 😭

like reader probably doesn't exactly look like how they usually are but instead look like their persona, the one they imagine themselves as in their place in their silly lil daydreams n imaginations

probably the Astral Express knows (and maybe the Stellaron Hunters) but let's pretend they don't for the sake of my idea 😼 (though maybe the Trailblazer only knows but doesn't say shit bc no one asked them lmao 💀💀)

also abt my last post of reader being a nonchalant lil shit I mentioned reader saying smth like "okay but make sure sunday ain't anywhere near smth sharp ok" because I had the idea of sunday (pre-2.7) stabbing reader bc they threatened to reveal his entire plan to whole of Penacony

(??? idk I think it was abt him finding out the reader ain't from this universe so he went a lil insane abt that fact lol bro couldnt grasp the fact he Robin and everyone else isn't real from the reader's true world) n he stabbed them making the reader go back to The Reverie (Reality) cuz if I remember correctly if u die in the dreamscape you'll just wind up back into reality I think

imagine after Sunday redeems himself and he and the reader meet again on the AE and it's all so awkward lmaoooo and the reader doesn't say shit abt forgiving him or anything. completely neutral which makes sunday internally panic or whatnot

I feel like if somebody else (Besides Sunday and the Trailblazer) finds out about the reader's origins it would be Welt cuz he also isn't from HSR (if I remember) and Himeko as well. But if we're talking about outside the AE, The Stellaron Hunters me thinks (I can see Herta finding out n wanting to question the reader AND also Black Swan too)

feel free to add on to this cuz idk

#i want to hear other people's ideas abt whatever in talking about #hsr #honkai star rail #sahsrau #self aware #self aware au #self aware honkai star rail #this is like #reader isekai'd into hsr n no one knows about it #basically that #but some people slowly start finding out abt reader's secret #idea #hsr idea

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mraquamoon · 1 year ago

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🪴🌙ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS - cardinal moon sign edition

♈️🌶️ARIES MOON: this is a very emotionally expressive moon sign. Aries moons emotions come to them so quickly and it can be manifested as a burst of anger or frustration that ends up winding down shortly after. Aries moons really benefit from working out or doing some type of physical activity when going through an emotional crisis. Aries moons want to be left alone to process their emotions. They will most likely reject any type of help or assistance when they are bothered initially. The best thing to do to deal with this is to give them space and let them process. Aries moons get along with other fire moons best as well as Gemini and Aquarius moons. They are very independent thinkers. Their mother influenced their drive and ambition in life in a positive or negative way. Their experiences with their mother shaped their outlook to be independent.

♑️👔CAPRICORN MOON: this moon sign is not super emotional on the surface at all. They will use dry humor more often than not and that can hint at some emotions they are feeling internally. They are very hard to open up with how they truly feel even with people that are super close to them. They might have had a hard time growing up such as parent being away from home a lot so they had to step up and take responsibility for things in the household. They could have lost a parent or a parent could be physically around but not emotionally. Capricorn moons benefit from having people around who give them the space to process their emotions and give them a positive perspective on life compared to how things make seem to them sometimes. Capricorn moons will be more inclined to open up to you if they began to respect you in some way. They appreciate people who understand the value of hard work and determination like themselves. Capricorn moons are very good to be with in relationships as well as they will take responsibility on ensuring the relationship has a well thought out future and things that you wouldn’t normally been keen on taken care of. They will plan dates, they will spoil you, they will give you money to take care of you in some cases especially when they really are loyal to you and understand your value. They do not invest in things that does not seem worth it long term. Capricorn moons get along generally with earth moons scorpio and Aquarius moons.

♎️💕LIBRA MOON: this is the social moon sign. Libra moons love relationships and beauty of all types. They are very much the types to romanticize their lives. Libra moons are happiest when all relationships in their lives are balanced and especially when they have a partner to share their life and ideas with. Libra moons are very aware of their appearance and makes sure to invest a lot of their mental energy into their self care routines. They love shopping to ease their emotions. Libra moons also love talking about relationships of all types with others. They are great with relationship advice for all types and they genuinely love hearing and comparing perspectives. Libra moons struggle with being truthful emotionally sometimes just because they want to keep the peace. They do care about upsetting people still like the typical Libra archetype so they may tip toe around what they truly feel emotionally or become indecisive. This is not always a terrible thing because it helps them make the right decision. They prefer doing activities with others such as going to the store or grabbing food together. This makes them feel at ease emotionally. Libra moons are very sensitive to energy so they are always able to sense the shifts that goes on in a room. They become very uncomfortable around discord of any kind. Libra moons get along best with other air moons Sagittarius and Leo moons.

#libra #libra moon #capricorn #capricorn moon #aries #aries moon #astrology observations #cardinal signs #astrology #moon signs

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devilstruly · 1 year ago

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DETANGLED

pairing - sakusa kiyoomi x fem. reader (with any hair type that isn't pin straight)

summarization - you are frustrated when you meet with your best friend and he's tired of you speaking badly about yourself

includes - mutual pining, dogs shipping their owners, rich boy kiyoomi, sexual tension (+ anything i might've missed)

a/n - please accept my sincerest apologies bc this is incredibly self indulgent 😭😭. i wrote this on a bad hair day and i just kept thinking about kiyoomi and his pretty hair. also both he and reader have dogs. kinda short, not my best work. again apologies

A cold wind blows through the streets, sending a part of Sakusa's coat flying behind him. The man inevitably shivers as he buries his nose deeper into the knitted scarf and balls his gloved hands into fists.

Above his head, the sky is a very soft shade of gray, with the clouds so thickly condensed into a barrier for the sunlight. Across the dog playground a loud bark can be heard, the sound feeling all too familiar to the man.

He smiles softly beneath his mask when he sees the energetic doberman, happily approaching his friend. And soon enough, the owner joins Sakusa's side as well.

'Hi!' You greet him with a smile when you take your place on the man's right, with your back leaning against the metal fence.

'About time.' Sakusa's remark earns him an eye roll and he can't help gloating a little on the inside.

'Listen I almost had a mental breakdown over my hair you should be lucky I even got here.'

With a huff you cross your arms over your chest, blowing away a stray hair that disrupted your view. To your surprise however, Sakusa turns to face you, eyes roaming over the strands formed into a very messy updo.

'I told you before, your hair looks fine. You're stressing over nothing. Again.'

'It's not nothing!' You protested. 'I just wish I could make it look prettier. Like get the curls to be defined or something so it's not just a blob.' Your reasoning was followed by another eyeroll, this time accompanied by a small pout.

Sakusa looked in the direction of the two black dogs again and stood quiet for a couple of seconds before he called his pet over. The black shepard rushed over happily, with your doberman trailing behind him.

Once they were seated before the two of you, the man crouched down and secured the leash before turning towards you.

'Let's go.'

'Where?' You questioned while mirroring Sakusa's previous actions and following him through the gate of the playground.

'Just follow me.’ Was the only thing he let be revealed before switching the topic of the conversation. 'How was your day?'

Sakusa navigates the busy streets expertly while he keeps up the conversation with you, before his steps come to a halt in front of a store. It's a pet friendly one, of course it is, because even though you're not aware of it, he plans on spending at least forty-five minutes inside.

Brows slightly raised in curiosity, you trail behind him, only to nearly head face first into his broad back when he stops.

'Gah! Warn a woman next time?'

He promptly ignores you and instead reaches out to touch the front strands that fell out of your bun.

'Hm.'

Feeling slightly exposed by his soft touch and the proximity, you do your best at avoiding direct eye contact, which he fortunately doesn't seem notice.

'I think these would work best for your hair type.'

His arm stretches out and places two bottles in the basket he picked up on the way in, before continuing.

'You use the shampoo twice, only on the roots, and the conditioner once, just the ends.'

You can only manage a small nod, feeling kind of clueless with him leading you through the store like this.

'I should've made a list...oh well...these will do.'

He shoves another load of products in the basket and at this point you've given up on trying to be of use, giving him free reign instead.

Once the two of you are in line, you instinctively reach for your wallet, assesing the items in the man's hands.

'What do you think you're doing?'

His voice is as smooth and gentle as ever, and his dark eyes fix on yours so intensely that you want to slap yourself for all the inappropriate thoughts that run through your mind.

'You're not seriously thinking of paying for all of this!'

'I brought you here, it's only fair.'

'Kiyo-'

'End of discussion.'

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n

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wayfayrr · 1 year ago

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do you think the self-aware boys could be aware of other games you play on the console? this is kind of a silly thought but i got age of calamity when it came out and didn't play much because i was really bad at it. i've been playing totk recently but some self-aware au posts reminded me that i have age of calamity so i popped it back in to try out again (i'm still not great at it). and i just imagined tears getting jealous haha sorry hon i swear i didn't mean anything by it

(not me who plays a ton of indie games on my switch - guys I'm so sorry I just like the silly sushi game)

So as for them being aware of other games, they start off as not knowing much, just knowing that they're there. but after a while they can see the hours played! think the switch timer that shows how much you've played or maybe steam library style, I'm not entirely sure yet

as for your other point - I think their jealousy really depends on what game you're playing, how long you're playing for kinda a mix on the two!

other zelda games could have little/no jealousy or they could actually end up causing a literal fight if those two links met. I actually really need to draw out a relationship chart! cause I've been planning a self aware links meet and I've been stewing over this for a good while <3

say for legend? yeah, he's not going to be jealous of himself - that would be a waste of energy Sky would be a little petty if your totk playtime is higher than his but he gets along well with tears - to the point he'd be willing to share you with him (the same goes for wild/ possibly wars) Twilight wants to work with others - not all of them mind you but time, wild and wind? given the chance he will go out of his way to work with them rather than not and he is the ONLY one who does this - this is not 100% reciprocated with all of those links. (and his allies depend on what console you're on) the others are opportunistic with allies but they don't go out of their way like he does.

other series games? yeah no get them OUT of here they aren't sharing you with them.

in your case though anon?

I think tears would be more than fine with you playing aoc!! he's a little bitter over the fact (in his head) you might prefer the version of him that didn't die but no don't worry he's not that offended Calamity on the other hand? he's going to be a smug little shit. He had more than a bit of an inferiority complex when it comes to the others - aoc kinda flopped compared to other games (4mil copies to totks 20mil (totk sold half of aocs total sales in japan in THREE DAYS)) if you have more hours with him than with wild/tears then he will become more of an ass and get whiny about having your attention on him when he gets out. I also like to hc him as having really bad anxiety which leads to a really clingy yan

#ohhhhh the feelings they have towards other games #heheheheheheh #the plans I have #moss✦answers #yandere link #linked universe #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu tears #lu twilight #lu calamity #self aware au #self aware loz #queueueueue

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eatsbooks · 1 month ago

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It is so ?? to me that Eris trusted Tamlin. Tamlin. of all people to save Lucien. The fucking High Lord of this different court who then proceeded to kill 2 of his other brothers along with Lucien because if this can guy can do this then he could also just kill Lucien instead or sell him out to Beron in exchange for something. Or anything at all. He is a high lord, he has a high lord's son with him and he clearly later displays that he is not scared of invoking Beron's ire so 'not harming him' is something he is not obligated to do. He didn't trust any spies, or anyone he trusted a high lord he didn't have an alliance with. HOW did that come about?

thank you for pointing out one of the primary plot points that confirms to me that sjm did not care whatsoever about eris as a character when she started this series lmfao — with that said, i think the reasoning behind this is almost entirely exogenous. sjm just needed a backstory that simultaneously got lucien in spring with tamlin for the events of acotar and easily displayed the cruelty of his family and his court. whether eris would actually let this happen wasn’t considered.

BUT i think there are a few ways to make it work endogenously. for one, i’m sure eris had been tortured himself for so blatantly refusing to help torture and kill jesminda, so i think his physical and mental faculties were impaired. his brother was about to die, and he had to do something — anything. normally he could be smart and strategic and plan ahead, but lucien was already headed in the direction of spring, and there was no one else strong enough in that vicinity to fend off three powerful, bloodthirsty vanserra boys. by necessity, he had to call on tamlin; he had no other recourse available to him.

plus eris and tamlin definitely met at social gatherings as heirs to neighboring courts, so even if tamlin hated eris, eris likely saw the good in tamlin, which was made all the more impressive for how that persisted through tamlin’s shitty family situation. maybe eris knew that tamlin would see himself in lucien (good, kind, warm, enduring lucien) and show compassion — people always tended to show lucien compassion. or maybe it was lucien and tamlin who had a friendly relationship prior to jesminda that eris knew about, so he was sure that tamlin would take lucien in and protect him.

i also think if eris ever caught wind of tamlin harming lucien, he would find other, better arrangements somehow; but he soon (by fae standards — probably a few years or even a decade or so) saw lucien at court as spring emissary, and his brother looked so … happy. so much happier than the last time he had seen him. he knew then that there was no need to step in, that tamlin could provide lucien better protection than he could — at least until amarantha took his eye.

no matter what, eris definitely did not expect tamlin to kill his brothers. maybe he thought tamlin was too good, or otherwise too smart, to do something like that, which would blatantly make an enemy of his father. (it’s the last time he ever makes the mistake of thinking someone else is aware enough to make the same choices he would.) he will never forgive tamlin that, but he blames himself much, much more. for not raising them better, for not playing the game smarter even though he knew how to, for not doing something differently, anything that could have saved all three brothers and not just one.

(or if u want my reeeally self-indulgent answer …… i wrote an azris-focused version of this exact event in chapter six of eiteio<3)

#ask #acotar #acotar meta #eris vanserra #*eris #lucien vanserra #shiiiii little self promo moment?? 👀 pop off queen !#anyway i appreciate u as always for picking my brain #❣️❣️❣️#u kno what would make this Even More painful?#if eris didn’t know abt jesminda #if lucien specifically hid her from eris #eris who could have helped him hide her better #who could have told him not to share it with the brother he confided in #who could have told lucien that having the love was not worth endangering it #:•)

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boilingrain · 2 months ago

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instead of actually working on any of my mountain of WIPs I have instead attempted some emote edits connected to some of them. yes I'm aware these edits aren't the greatest, I didn't put that much effort into these

Here's some info about them, in case anyone is curious on what they're about:

Genshin Impact: Breath of the Wild - pretty self-explanatory, it's just Breath of the Wild but with Genshin characters. I have the first 5 chapters mostly planned out, but I'm still working writing the first chapter.

Second Chances - Furina originally comes from a timeline where basically everything goes wrong and everyone in Fontaine dies, but the Focalors from her original timeline sends her back to before the events of the Fontaine Archon Quest and now Furina has to find a way to save everyone while also dealing with some other twists that weren't there in her original timeline. Also the only one of these I have actually posted any chapters of

Walking Hand in Hand (Into the Abyss) - Started working on this one shortly after Natlan released. Kachina getting stuck in the Night Kingdom made me go "well with the whole thing with the Abyss, it would be interesting if Kachina got Abyss-ed like Childe did when he was a kid" and it just kind of kicked off from there. Basically, Kachina comes back wrong from the Night Kingdom and after it's figured out that it's because of the Abyss, the Traveler is like "wait I know a dude who had something similar to this happen to him" and calls in Childe to help figure out how to help Kachina, or at least how to help her cope with the situation. Childe winds up getting pulled into Natlan AQ shit and also gains +1 little sister in the process.

Shadow of the past, mine to command - Multichapter fic where each chapter is in the POV of a different Natlan character, the final chapter being Kinich's. Each character notices something off about Kinich but none of them are entirely sure exactly why that is. I'm aware that the twist is probably incredibly obvious, something which isn't helped by the edit, but I thought the idea was a cool one so whatever. You can't stop me.

Bennett vs the Zombie Apocalypse - also pretty self-explanatory title. Bennett stumbles out of a domain he got lost in, only to learn that the zombie apocalypse happened while he was in there. For reasons currently unknown to him or anyone else, Bennett appears to be completely immune to the zombie virus.

Memories Swim and Haunt You - a very angsty one-shot I recently started working on about Xiao's karmic debt. He's not at all having a good time in this fic and neither is anyone else.

Beyond the Sea - this fanart has me by the throat and now head so very full. I did not care about Xingqiu before this and now I am researching his lore and personality so that I may write him properly. Still in the planning stage on this one, but basically Osial is reborn as Xingqiu (his body is still sealed away and released later by Childe, it just doesn't have his soul in it anymore), but he's missing some of his memories and a lot of his power. As far as basically everyone else is concerned, Xingqiu is just a strange but polite (and at times mischievous) young bookworm with some strong opinions about seemingly random topics from Liyue's ancient past. Local sword boy has beef with random funeral parlor consultant.

Kill the Lights - started writing this one-shot in December when a storm caused my power to be out for a few days. Since it was during the first day of the Lyney & Chasca banner and I had threatened Lyney into coming home during his previous rerun (Lyney & Arlecchino), I was joking with my friend that Lyney had made my power disappear in revenge. The plot of this one is that Lyney's practicing a magic trick while Lynette & Freminet watch because they're all stuck inside due to a bad storm, only for the power to go out when he completely fucks up a magic trick where he was supposed to make something "disappear"

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formula-wind · 1 year ago

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choose your agent! — valorant mains of furin high first years

※ headcanons for wind breaker characters as valorant players ft. sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suo hayato, & sugishita kyotaro

Sakura Haruka — instalock duelist

Like with gang fights, he definitely had his fair share of experiences with cocky duelists so it’s no surprise he tries to take the main damage-dealer role first in his team when he queues for a game.

Reyna would be the first one Haruka tries to pick because of the agent’s self-sustaining nature. No need to rely on teammates for entry support or heals—relating well with his independent character.

I mean, Reyna’s blind wont affect his teammates so there’s no reason for them to yell at him for bad blind timings or wasting heals so less problems!

Though not that he would admit this, but he also thinks she’s the most useful agent for helping the team out.

No one is an initiator? Haruka entries site for the team with a blind, killing anyone there who stops his team from getting in.

No one is a sentinel? Haruka stays behind to guard their backs trying to stay alive for as long as possible to protect the spike (when attacking) or site (when defending).

No one is a controller? Well, he can’t really do much with Reyna’s abilities but he does hunt down enemies when he has ultimate available to reduce the team’s worries.

Definitely sets a good example for how Reyna mains should be.

He also just hates being in a team with Reyna players who talk shit more than get kills. Who doesn’t though?

Because of this, he does understand that instalocking Reyna would get his teammates assuming he’s one of the bad players but he couldn’t care less when they express their annoyance.

Haruka can and will prove them wrong, after all.

However, in extremely rare cases where people instalock duelists before him, he either dodges (95% of the time since he just wont be able to stand the possibility of egoistical teammates) or picks Chamber.

Why? He can stay behind guarding flank or site strongly as his “dumbass teammates” charge the enemies.

With his shooting skills, he can really makes the most out of Chamber’s abilities.

Also because of chamber’s pistol and rifle ultimate, he’s also able to buy a gun for a teammate if needed. Again, definitely not something he would admit, but if pointed out, best believe he’s going to scream in voice chat about how irresponsible his team is with credits.

Akihiko Nirei — sentinel or controller strategist

We all know how proactive he is with gathering information about guys he finds cool so I am pretty sure that when he gets really into Valorant he has a notebook full of strategy plans, setups, and lineups from his research and actual game experiences.

His analytical skills and game-knowledge would definitely make him the best supporting member of the team.

Nirei would be that person that waits for everyone to pick their agent before picking his to avoid complaints and to work with the team dynamic.

If a sentinel is needed, fits well with the team and the map; he would most likely select Killjoy.

He probably mastered a lot of swarm + alarm bot setups. Though, he does like using the same setups twice or more instead of switching it up if it works against the enemy.

Probably does it because he thinks the enemy wouldn’t expect such plans to be executed again (not really true most of the time).

Good thing about Nirei is he knows what he’s capable and not capable of; he understands his weaknesses so he plays it safe to not become a burden to his teammates.

Enemies call him a rat for being so skilled with his utility usage, and he takes it as a compliment with pride.

Loves playing post-plant lineups! He practices a lot in custom before each ranked game.

However, if his team needs a controller to block out sections of a site to secure entries, he’s playing Astra.

Now, Astra is probably one of the toughest agents to master since it needs good map awareness skills and team coordination so Nirei only picks her if he knows his team can give good comms and support (like if he would be playing with the other bofurin members).

He would definitely take pride in assisting his teammates with getting kills by using concuss (nova pulse) and pulling enemies (gravity well).

May get too focused with getting his abilities set up and activated right so he would need someone to watch his back (he has been trolled and stabbed multiple times, which sometimes led to really funny games).

Truly the teammate with the braincells we all need (and aspire to be).

Suo Hayato — duelist-like sentinel or full-on duelist

He is a Sage main. 100%. No doubt.

Oh but Hayato's not your stereotypical bottom frag “team before me” Sage main.

He’s the type that would carry the whole team—some would even say he’s one of those “selfish” Sage players.

Why she’s his first pick? Simple: fun walls.

He doesn’t really like walling off the spike since it doesn't provide good entertainment he knows his walls can be used for better uses.

He loves tormenting the enemy with crazy Sage wall placements, getting kills without the enemy knowing where they’re getting shot at brings him so much joy—it’s almost sadistic.

You think a wall is misplaced so bad it lets you enter the site easier? Wrong. Hayato's behind you getting your team one by one.

Sometimes he drags it out, watching the enemy team get past him when they don’t check their corners and follows them to the site—and if they’re attacking—he does the little ninja defuse trick; defusing the spike as soon as the other team has planted it.

With his healing orbs, he is still very supportive of his team and usually heals them first instead of himself, not really minding if they still die first after getting healed. He’s pretty confident with his shooting skills so he survives well without needing additional health stats.

He plays at a distance so even on low health he is able to get frags.

His slow orbs are also mainly there for its regular use of keeping enemies at bay, but also torment his team members if they’re getting on his nerves—which doesn’t happen often.

The reviving ultimate? If his team keeps asking to be revived best believe he’s only using it to use the revived bodies as a shield or revives them in the most inconvenient moment.

When given the chance to be a duelist, he is definitely picking Jett.

You really can’t convince me otherwise cause her swift play style suits well with Hayato's character.

Those updraft knife trick shots on tiktok? He does them at least once a game to bring down the enemy’s mental.

Would probably be like a Tenz with Jett’s ultimate. He would save the other abilities if he knows he has or is getting his ultimate soon to do those crazy killer dash moves.

This is pretty much self-explanatory so I don’t know what else to say. Hayato is graceful; Jett lets him prove it in game.

Sugishita Kyotaro — hunting-focused initiator

Probably not the most active player in Bofurin but when he does play, he’s playing Fade.

Is probably only ever playing fade because it fits the most with him though.

Short explanation: their auras match well; scary and will be out to torment you.

Long explanation: if he’s playing with Umemiya, he’s probably using Fade to provide support and keep the enemy as far from him as possible.

Since he also doesn’t talk much, Fade uncovering the location of enemies helps him be useful for his team without needing much interaction. I mean, the agent literally can direct you to enemies with the ultimate ability so what else is there to point out?

I also see him as a very proactive corner-checker so Fade’s haunt and prowler is really handy for him. No corner of the site is left unchecked with Kyotaro around!

However, I can’t really picture him using seize that much for capturing enemies so I think he doesn’t really purchase it. If they’re out in the open, he likes killing them head-on so he doesn’t see much value to the said skill.

Overall, even as a one-agent player, he definitely excels with making the most out of Fade’s abilities.

a/n: depending on whether or not anyone is actually interested in this i may turn this into a series,,

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dummie-writes · 1 year ago

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the party walkers

self insert .✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 2.21k

next part: a rescue mission

note: hot minute, hey guys, this is my first time writing for school bus graveyard! currently, it's probably my favorite webtoon (that being said, all my other favorites are on hiatus, so, yk. that's that.) if you followed me for genshin one shots, I just wanna let you know I'm NOT gonna stop writing them, permanently at least. I haven't been able to fixate on genshin for a bit because the app is too big for my phone and trying to play on my computer kills me inside. hope you enjoy, also things prooobably aren't gonna be perfect, lol, I'm going off memory of the first chapter/s

content: self insert for sbc, uh, go read that first, I don't think I'll end up including anything (at least, not here) that needs extra trigger warnings. long term, it's a tyler x reader, maybe, idk, but regardless I don't plan on starting that for a bit.

i. a demon inside of my skin

you hadn't been in "the room where it happened", so to speak. actually, you didn't know what everyone else was dealing with for about a week after savannah, because you thought you were having batshit crazy nightmares! your hotel room was a good bit further away from everyone else's that first night, and after making a run for it into a room and barricading yourself in, you thought that would be the end of it. everyone did, didn't they?

and then, you went home. warm bed, soft blanket, box fan running in the background while you scrolled through various social media apps. it was nearing midnight, but that wasn't new for you. the early morning hours were your friend, the moon a sibling by your teenage years. not unique, sure, but that was the reality of that situation. a small shiver tickles your spine as you remember the night mare last night brought you, your fingertips ghosting the spot on your knuckle where you had banged it and broken your finger in that dream. it was even sore when you woke up. sometimes, nightmares were like that though. sometimes people woke up gasping for air after drowning in their sleep, or craving cigars after being a smoker in their dreams. sore knuckles weren't that far off.

it was like a flash; one moment, you were watching a college aged blonde talk about the type of oils she used for her long, silky, soft hair, and the next, the sky from out your window was a bleeding carmine. there was a loud silence, no wind, no rain, no box fan or phone.

then, again, you heard it. click, click, click. chatter, chatter, chatter. okay. cool. another nightmare. fun and fantastic.

shooting out of your sheets, your index finger throbbed, sparing a second and glancing at it revealed purple spots upon green bruises splotched along your hand. curling your finger inward hurt, but was possible. making a fist around your blanket, you threw it as hard as possible off of you, hoping to distract whatever was making the noise. it did not have the desired affect, and flew a couple feet before expanding and landing softly on the floor. that didn't matter, you were already on your feet and they were thudding to your door before you were aware of what was going on, scrambling on the carpet of your bedroom as you heard skitter like movements from where your eyes couldn't catch the gray, uncanny human-like figure making its way toward you on all fours. it was fast. way, way too fast. the undignified squeal you released as you yanked open your door turned into a gravelly scream of both terror and agony when you slid through, slamming the door shut before you, a blackened finger along with it. it didn't fall to the floor, but instead was hanging painfully out of your back, right under your shoulder blade. like a when a plank of wood splinters, but has enough fibers to hang off and out of the main piece and bobs back and forth. except you're not a piece of wood, and you have to not scream right now.

you feel nausea drinking its way into your chest, but adrenaline pushes it to a back burner as a need to survive pulses in your brain. grabbing a random shoe, a picture frame from off the wall, and a small ball which were left on the floor earlier, you throw them in another direction and hope it sounds enough like footsteps that when you get into the bathroom, whatever that thing is doesn't try to follow you in there.

the balls of your feet aren't much quieter than your whole foot, but they'll have to do as you nearly slam the bathroom door, stop yourself in the knick of time to edge it closed instead, and lock it. for the first time in your entire life, you internally thank your parents that you didn't get that house with the skylight in the bathroom.

now, you hold your breath. the creaking of the floors beneath your cheap carpet tells you that that thing, that monster, that whatever-it-is, is passing by. your fingers shake as you cover your mouth with one hand, the other cupping your nose as you try desperately to slow and quiet your breathing. unfortunately, the racing of your heart isn't helping, and neither is the recognition of that wound that craved up your back so nicely. again, your stomach turns. you don't have time to deal with that right now, even if you can feel blood dripping down your back and throbbing which matches your heartbeat.

click, click, thump, thump. the shadow from the light outside darkens, two fuzzy shadows before the door. silence. praying.

click, click. click. it slowly, slowly, drags its hideous feet away from the door.

you can't breathe for another minute, and the instant you do, it comes out as a heave. your eyes go wide as you scramble toward the bathtub, making it just in time to spill your guts. after emptying your stomach, you pull away with watery eyes and a raw throat, coughing a couple times. you feel a little bit better, as you usually do after throwing up, but that won't last. also, you need water, and that means looking in the mirror if you don't wanna be loud. but for right now, you just need to lay down for a moment. just breathe. you're so, so light headed. you had only just woken up, and this all felt so real. the pain in your hand and in your back. the scratchy stinging you feel up your esophagus. the exhaustion pawing under your eyes as you start to lean backward;

except, you can't, and when you try that, you only shoot straight up and nearly puke all over again. thankfully, this time, the finger actually falls out of your back.

"𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯."

you can reach the majority of the wound if you really reach. it won't be perfect, but you should be able to get it properly clean and bandaged with the first aid kit your family keeps in the bathroom. you don't really know how to clean a wound this big, though. will you need stitches? the only real way to know is to look at it, even if you aren't really ready to do so.

"𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭."

the thought came to you before you even moved from your spot on the floor. oh, yeah. that's right. you're asleep.

...

huh. most dreams feel a little more, don't know. dreamy?? if this is a dream, candy is going to start raining from the sky right now.

right now. here.

𝘯𝘰𝘸, you think, looking up at the ceiling half heartedly. alright, if this was a nightmare, it was a really weird horrible one. and also, you'd rather not push your luck at this point. so, mirror it is. ignoring the pit of panic welling in your chest, you push yourself to your feet, and tip toe to the kitchen sink. you stare at the faucet, and then force your eyes upward. your hair is frazzled, and there are white specks along the corners of your mouth. and then, you turn around. your jaw tightens when you see the open wound, your nightshirt torn open and revealing tattered, aggressive flesh beneath it. that thing probably cut you to the bone. hopefully, because there is in fact a bone there, it didn't hit any organs. you can breathe fine, so your lung didn't seem all too punctured. it's just ugly. ugly and painful.

cleaning it is the first step, and you're just thankful that despite the fact that you stupidly, stupidly, stupidly dumped isopropyl alcohol onto it in hopes of doing so (for a second, before the burning, you felt a little uncomfortable. and then it hit, you nearly cracked your tooth from biting down so hard), it's over with.

a week later, you find yourself in class, rubbing sleepiness from your eyes. so, long story short, that wasn't a dream, and something is horribly wrong. you waking up to a long scab running down your shoulder blade told you that much. and things were about to get a lot worse. in the real world, that is.

"sir, please. they do literally nothing. they just sit there all spaced out, rubbing their eyes. it's like they aren't even trying for this project!" brandy, your classmate begs in a hushed tone. as annoying as the brunette could be at times, she wasn't wrong. a pang in your chest as you think of possibly making it so that the other members of your group protect fail because you are too tired to do your part. god, sorry brenda, you're too busy trying to huddle up in a bathroom all night and take care of a wound that isn't healing for some reason, all while praying that the thing that chased you in there and will probably kill you, doesn't murder you. but she's still not wrong. and it isn't like she knows that, because you have something seriously wrong with you. it's not her fault, and she shouldn't have to pay for you being crazy.

"mr. thomas," you quietly call, rubbing your elbow uncomfortably as you stare at the floor. you can see brandy pause from the corner of your eye, and you think there's even a sorry expression on her face. even if she was annoying, she clearly hadn't thought you heard that. and she had a right to be upset.

"I would like to change groups, if, um, possible."

there's a pause, and from your peripheral view, you can see your teacher and classmate motioning at each other, her probably trying to convince him to let you do so. a small thump, and then a sigh. "alright. I'm going to put you with ashlyn's group. "

as a redhead from across the room pops up and looks around, mr. thomas looks through a few pieces of paper, crossing something off with his pen. he didn't say it out loud, and frankly, he didn't have to. that was the group in the class that was also failing, so, you being in it wouldn't have much of an impact anyway. at least you wouldn't sink the whole ship all by yourself. was it smart, as a teacher? no. he probably should have put you with a tutor or something. looking up at mr. thomas as you nod and collect your things from your desk reveals an, in fact, apologetic eyed brandy. she mouths a "thank you", and you nod in return. you would drag your chair to their little group later, first, you should go introduce yourself, and hope they don't kick you out.

the bright blonde of the group catches you with his eyes before anyone else. you can hear him say something, and the rest of them stop talking and turn to look at you as you awkwardly walk over. their eyes are so piercing, it's making you uncomfortable.

"can we help you?" a brunette asks, tilting her head up to look at you. her tone carries no malice, just curiosity. makes you feel a little bit better.

"I'm so sorry to ask this, if you guys don't want me in your project I'll go ask if I can be alone or join another group or something, it's not a big deal. I'm having issues with my part of the project, and it's affecting everyone else's work in my group. so they were wondering if I could join in with you guys."

they all share a really weird look with each other, like they're talking telepathically or something. a tense moment passes, and two members speak up at the same time.

"yeah sure lol."

"fuck no."

"tyler! be nice! besides, we probably need someone who actually knows what's going on in this class!"

"didn't she just say she was having issues with her work? it's not like she's going to add much."

"to be fair, I don't think any of us are doing all too great on the work anyway."

you feel the need to clarify, mainly to get this over with. "I'm not really having trouble with the work. I'm just not doing it. I'm having sleeping issues, again, not a big deal if you don't want me to join."

they all stop, and look at you again. the redheaded one narrows her eyes, letting the braid she was messing with fall to her lap. her and the boy next to the brunette girl who asked you a question - actually, now that you're up close and looking at him, that looks like one of the boys on the baseball team. didn't she call him tyler? like tyler hernandez? huh. you didn't even realize you guys shared this class.

"what kind of nightmares have you been having?" the blonde asks, looking at who you're starting to assume is ashlyn. they have a staring contest of sorts while you start to answer. "oh, just weird ones. like, ones with monsters... and stuff..."

you didn't say anything about nightmares.

he looks at you again, a cat like grin on his face. "I think you should sit down. "

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

next part: a rescue mission

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umbral-archives · 8 months ago

Text

Kinktober 2024: Day 8 | Boot Worship Breeding + Murdock

Rating: NSFW MINORS DNI

AFAB!Reader/Femme

Pairing: Murdock (Markiplier CU) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Breeding Kink, Eldritch Anatomy, Tentacles, Pet Names, Risk/Intent Kink, Helplesssness Kink, Risky Sex, Dirty Talk, Dubcon to Hell and back your honor, Murdock is just a nasty fucker ok

I can't write boot worship worth a shit so we're doin this. Also be aware that this is my brand of breeding kink. No, nothing happens. My brand.

My brand! i have speshul eyes 👁👁

Word Count: 916

Ragged, gasping breaths and desperate noises scatter into the air, puffs of condensed steam mingling together before fading into the twilight. Autumn chill nips at your bare skin, but the human-shaped space heater beneath you more than makes up for the cooler weather.

So focused you are on your pleasure, you barely register the cold now.

Murdock fucks up into you ruthlessly, wantonly–an overwhelming need meeting the desperate cant of your hips down onto his cock. Each thrust–god you can practically feel him in your throat–knocks the wind out of you, scattering your already hair-thin self control and tipping the scales in his favor yet again.

Greedy bastard.

This had all started out in a rare instance of you initiating, riding him–trying to regulate the encounter on your terms. Controlling the speed, the depth, teasing him–trying to get him to cum first.

A tall order with his stamina, but you’re no quitter.

Oh, but then you had to go and get cocky at a particularly uncharacteristic noise he made, reeling from an adrenaline high. You’d made some offhand comment, grinding down on his cock languidly–and the look he shot you when you stopped…

Murdock is never one to let hubris go unpunished.

And here you are. Forced to cum on his cock again and again, your mind systematically turned to mush, leaking out of your ears with the rest of your self control. Lost to sensation, to his sinful words and the inevitable end of your encounter–

Which is coming much sooner than you realize.

Murdock’s thrusts intensify, dragging you down onto his cock, jolting an incoherent cry from deep in your chest. Your hands splay across his bare chest as you try to reclaim some sort of balance but he doesn’t let you, firmly gripping your hips and fucking up into you with abandon. Practiced, intentional–he knows exactly what pace to take, which angle has you at your weakest.

Pliant for him.

You can feel yet another orgasm rushing up to meet you, that abused coil tightening up yet again, breath catching as you struggle to fight it. It almost feels wrong to do so, so attuned you are to his desires–but you started this, you want to end it on your terms.

So you struggle power from him the only way you know how: denial.

“N-No-” you choke out, trying to squirm out of his grip.

Murdock doesn’t stop, eyes glinting with a dangerous light as he slows down just enough to grind up into you. Forcing your clit against his pubic bone, delighting in the little squeaks each maddening swirl earns him.

“No?” he echoes mockingly, leaning up from his seat. You look absolutely wrecked and it does nothing but inflate his ego further. “Since when are you into edging, Sweetheart?”

You shake your head, pushing at his chest, trying and failing to get up out of his lap. “D-Don’t w-wanna cum-”

And that’s when he understands–at least his version of understanding. Your little helplessness kink, denial on the grounds of dubcon. Resistance.

Too bad he’s not into games, not when he’s this close.

Murdock smiles cruelly. Something small, devious and black flickers into existence by your hip. The newly manifested tentacle attacks your clit at the same time Murdock begins his pace anew–and every conceived plan of yours falls to threads in your mind.

Each thrust drags you closer and closer to that inevitable cliff, every twitch of that little bastard tentacle forcing you much faster than you thought possible. Within seconds, you’re curling up over him, mouth caught in a soundless scream, all but begging him for more and–

Then it all stops.

Murdock stops. Leaves you wailing, twitching, right on that blissful edge of oblivion, dragging you off his cock just as easily as you sank down upon it. You collapse onto his chest, squirming, incoherent pleas caught in your throat, desperation taking over and it burns.

That kind of denial always burns–

The world tilts suddenly and you’re on something soft–warm leather and the scent of pine, Murdock’s coat beneath you–before a heavy presence behind you brings you back to reality. Murdock’s hand around your throat, forcing you face down, ass up as he practically mounts you.

Balls deep before you can think, a languid thrust that forces all thought from your head, the breath form your lungs. Pressing your face into the soft fabric of his coat, muffling your incoherent sounds.

Your arms and legs tremble as you squirm, try to regain control enough to push back- but then there’s the familiar sensation of tendrils winding up your arms, pulling them behind your back and securing them there.

Shit– hell, where did this come from–

“There we go,” he rumbles from above you, breathless and hungry in his own right. Open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his warm breath against your ear. “Pretty little thing… you can’t expect me to deny you this, can you?”

“M-Murdock, wait-” you gasp out, cut off when another full-body thrust jolts you forward, a tentacle wound around your hips dragging you back into it. Hitting deep. Right where you need him.

“Especially with what day it is-”

Shit– Fuck– Oh god wait– Yesyesyesyes–

A shameful thrill shudders up your spine and he feels you clench around him, all the indicator he needs to resume that bone-rattling pace, fucking you into the back seat of his Challenger.

“M-Murdock!”

“That’s it, Sweetheart, fuck–keep saying my name. Missed this greedy little cunt-held off for a while, know how much you need it. We’re gonna make sure it takes this time.”

#murder bastard 🗡#my writing #idk who to evil heehee so heehee (general)#i'm being so real be aware of the tags #this is my brand of breeding kink #and if you know me #you know it's an INTENT kink #like this man is TRYING #Fighting god/the entire 1987 denver broncos team/tony soprano/etc #to get this bred #yknow how he is #absolutely fucking stinky god #AWFUL STINKY #afab!reader

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psychiatry-and-poetry · 1 month ago

Text

Letters of Grief

A/N: Inspired slightly by this Tumblr post

Word Count: 2516

Each week, each visit had done nothing to quell the rage and grief within Azriel. He’d gone on missions for Rhys, spent time with his family on Solstice; had even managed to go to Illyria and assist Cassian with keeping some of the camps in check.

Despite it all, despite his routine, the hollowness within him only grew. It was a festering wound, he knew, and would cause him to bleed and explode over people who had in no way wronged him. The problem with being far too self-aware was, he didn’t know what to do with this terrifying piece of knowledge about himself.

As the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was his job to notice subtleties about others that a usual glance or once-over would miss. The slightest pinch of a brow, the crook of a mouth, the barely-there shrug of a shoulder…Azriel had accustomed himself to observing and cataloguing anything and everything that he came across. The trait was as much a part of him as his wings. He didn’t know who he’d be without it.

A moment of weakness on a more recent mission when he’d failed to do exactly that, however, had nearly cost Azriel his life. He’d been scouting the continent for any sign of the mortal queens, any whisper from his spies that indicated a plan or even movement towards Prythian. Sitting on the roof of a ramshackle little hut that was no doubt abandoned, he got the perfect view of the palace they lived in. The decrepit little cottage sat on a small mound (it was too small to even refer to it as a hill) and provided Azriel with enough of a view that he could easily monitor any movements through the main gates.

He’d scoured the smaller, less frequently used drawbridges, though his shadows and his own findings had only ever led to the same conclusion: only the main gates were used. The queens likely preferred their servants to be kept out of sight and thus encouraged them to use to side passageways. Azriel had only ever found servants leaving to get to the stables or go to the market. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

At least, that was how it had seemed until a naga had pounced on him. Azriel barely had any time to react before it had ripped a decent chunk of armour off, penetrating through the metal until the muscle. He’d hissed in pain and barely fought it off, finally killing the damn thing, before he’d winnowed straight home.

There was no way in hell he was surviving a naga attack when one of his limbs was rendered immobile.

Azriel didn’t remember how he ended up in a warm bed at the House of Wind that night. Cassian must have seen him and called for Madja.

Indeed, she was a talented healer who’d patched him up in less than an hour. He’d felt guilty for coming back so soon with no intel, nothing to report, but he also knew his body’s limits. He wasn’t about to stretch it for the sake of his pride, not when his ignorance had nearly gotten him killed. By a naga, no less.

Upon further contemplation, Azriel made a mental note to ask Rhys about the naga. He’d encountered a few here and there on his countless missions to the other courts, but he couldn’t remember them ever hunting faeries specifcally, or the ability to scale trees with such ruthless efficiency. From what he remembered, they preferred the safety of solid land beneath their feet and only ever hunted mortals for sport and entertainment.

Az? Why are you still awake? As if summoned by his thoughts, the High Lord of Night spoke into Azriel’s mind. A naga attacked me while I was doing reconnaissance of the palace. I’m fine, nothing for you to fret over, but I did have to come back and get Madja to heal me.

I don’t care that you had to come back halfway through a mission. I care about you. Damnnit, Az, why didn’t you tell either of us? There was irritation lining Rhys’ voice, yes, but also concern. It was palpable even through his absence.

I told you, I’m fine. Visit me in the morning. Cass will probably startle awake like a frenzied boar the moment you land. If this was what Azriel had to do to avoid Rhys getting all worked up like a mother hen then that was what he would do.

He’s a deep sleeper. I doubt he’d notice my presence until I made it glaringly obvious to him that I was staying for the night. A pause. Then…Good night, Azriel. I hope you feel better soon.

Sunlight streamed in through the now-open window, the House having drawn the curtains. Azriel still wasn’t used to the fact that the House was sentient, and had found it extremely odd to utter a ‘thank you’ when no one was around. Was it wrong to want a magical house which summoned nearly everything under the sun to like you?

Azriel was awake, and was propped up with a mountain of pillows surrounding him. He hadn’t had the heart to tell Madja that so many pillows would make him feel as if he was drowning in cotton; not as she’d fussed over him and groused over his deteriorating health.

By deteriorating health, she’d meant his lack of a structured sleep schedule, irregular meal times, lack of hydration…the usual. It wasn’t odd for Azriel to receive these comments from most of the healers he visited, each one expressing varying degrees of concern over how and why his regimes were so lax.

This time, however, it seemed that the female wasn’t going to leave without a proper argument. “You need to start taking care of yourself. This neglect and unwillingness to listen to you body’s needs is going to catch up to you one day, and you’ll be worse off for it.”

“I do listen to my body’s needs,” he protested halfheartedly, looking up at the healer who had her arms on her hips in a clear show of disappointment. “I came to you when my arm was nearly bitten off by a naga, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Madja.” Azriel’s tone had softened. “My body does fine on its own. There’s no point interfering in things that are working well enough unattended.”

“Except you’re not.” It seemed that Azriel’s placating voice had done nothing to ease the healer’s worry. “You neglect yourself. Your needs, your wants.”

“I go to a mind healer once every week.” That had Madja sobering up, a newer, more assessing look in her eyes as she took Azriel in again. “Since when?”

“A few months.”

“And have you found that it has helped?”

Azriel fell silent. No, the visits weren’t helping, but he wasn’t getting much better, either. It was hard to tell. A couple of months was hardly anything to the Fae, after all. The loss of his mate was still fresh as ever, the wound just as deep as the day he’d seen her die.

“I see.” Her brow furrowed, clearly interpreting the silence as a negative. Azriel didn’t even know why he’d told her. Maybe he’d needed someone to talk to, and Madja had been the closest person, the one most willing to listen. It wasn’t like there was a line of people outside his door ready to listen to his plights and tragedies, but…it felt good getting that particular truth off his chest. Azriel trusted her. She’d tell no one without explicit permission from Azriel. She was discreet that way, and that was perhaps one of the things he admired most about Madja, aside from her healing abilities.

“I will check on you once this afternoon. If the wounds are not fully healed then I will have to visit once more.”

Azriel knew his body, knew that the wounds had begun healing and would likely disappear by the next afternoon.

✦ ✦ ✦

“I just…I want to go back. To her. To a time when we would have been happy simply because we had each other and we needed nothing more. Every day, I wake up and my first thought is of her. Every morning, I think about what I wouldn’t do to go back. Just once.”

Azriel had been encouraged to go back to the mind healer even if he felt as if the visits weren’t helping. No, encouraging was too weak a word for what Madja had done. Despite being nearly a foot shorter than him, the healer had nearly threatened to freeze his balls off if he didn’t go. It had been amusing, at the very least, to see Madja so worked up, and Azriel had thought nothing but her agitated expression as he made his way down to the too-familiar, all-white room.

All laughter had evaporated, however, when she’d asked how he’d been doing and Azriel hadn’t quite known how to answer. The response he’d given had been an echo, a glimpse into the true stumbling mess that he was.

She’d looked at him as he told her the words he’d been willing to give voice to; an odd, contemplative sort of expression that Azriel hadn’t been able to place. “You could go back. But there is nothing and no one waiting for you there.”

“I am waiting for her there,” he’d answered as he fought not to let his temper get the best of him. “I’ve been waiting for her, and I will continue to wait for the day I die because then it will mean that we will be together.”

“And what will you do once you are together?”

“Simply hold each other. Bask in the other’s presence. She was my light, my sunshine, my everything, and I cannot imagine myself in a world without her.”

Audrine sighed. Not an exasperated sigh by any means, but a quieter one. No, there hadn’t been an ounce of displeasure on her face, only an exhaustion that had Azriel wondering if she was alright. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared, though, and Azriel didn’t have any more time to contemplate her well-being as she asked him another question.

“What made you decide to come down here once more?”

As always, her question had caught him completely unawares, and he was only able to utter a one-word response. “Madja.”

“She forced you?” Audrine quirked a brow, but it seemed that the situation was not unusual for either of them: Madja for having to force patients to the mind healers, and them expecting nothing less as they took in patient after unwilling patient.

“No. She…persuaded me.”

The priestess snorted. “Trust me, I know exactly how persuasive she can be.”

Despite himself, Azriel snorted. “She did play a role in getting me to come visit, yes, but that’s not the only reason I came down. I was…involved in a mission recently, so to speak. The outcome wasn’t as I hoped it would be, and I found my thoughts getting the better of me once more. I thought being in the company of others in a quieter environment would help.”

“And these sessions have helped you so much that the first thing you decided to do was to talk to me?”

“Not quite,” Azriel replied with no small amount of hesitation, attempting to soften the blow. “But I told her that I take counselling when she healed me, and she encouraged me to go even if it doesn’t help. She said I lack routine, and that this will help build it. According to her, training for hours on the roof of the House without a break isn’t acceptable,” he finished with a snicker.

“No indeed.” A small smile graced Audrine’s lips as she made more notes, hastily scrawling them in the margins of her notepad. “I do have to ask, though,” she began. “Is there any specific reason you train for so long? I mean, you’re well over five hundred now. Surely the lack of training for a few days, maybe even weeks, wouldn’t be the end of the world?”

How was it possible for someone to see through him at every turn? He’d managed for a long time, so why were his walls beginning to crack now?

“No. I suppose not.” His reply was more brittle, more jagged than he would have liked it to be. At his unwillingness to supply more, she asked again. “Then why do you train so much?’

“It’s…the only way I know how to channel my emotions. It keeps them at bay. That’s how it’s been for as long as I can remember, and I can’t think of another explanation other than old habits die hard.”

“Have you tried journaling?”

“Yes.” This time, Azriel looked away, his eyes finding the wood panelled floor in front of the priestess’ feet far more riveting than their current conversation.

“How did it go?”

“I couldn’t write more than half a page. My hand cramped up.”

“Have you been to a healer to see if anything can be salvaged underneath the scarring?” It was noble of her to care so much for wounds that would never fade.

“Yes.” These were questions Azriel had endured for as long as he could remember. The condescending, pitying tone that most took on when talking about him and his hands nearly had the male seeing red. He was tired of being infantilised, dammnit. “Nothing could be done. The healer did as much as she could, and now I must live with them the way they are.”

The finality with which he said the statement might cause a fresh wave of pity to rise in some, believing Azriel was being pessimistic. He was not. He was practical, and many seemed to confuse practicality with pessimism. If others chose to believe in fantasies they’d spun out of the seemingly endless depths of hope they somehow possessed, they could not complain when that same hope crushed their spirits as it tumbled down like a house of cards blown away with the wind.

Azriel had hoped once. Long ago, before High Ladies or mates or the inevitable grief which followed death like a shroud, an invisible veil he couldn’t seem to rid himself of. He had hoped there was a better life, one where there was no pain, no punishment, no cruelty. They had been the fickle dreams of a child, and he’d held onto them so tightly his nails and cracked and left crescent-shaped marks on his palms, until his fingers went numb and all he could think about was holding on lest he was left behind in the aftermath.

Azriel remembered the days the healer had tried for hours to save at least some part of his hands, to ensure he retained some mobility. When nothing good had come of it, he’d been given a salve for the pain until that too, and rendered the scarring permanent. He’d long since given up on trying to fix it. It was too late now.

Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings

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