#and I don't count it as a day off unless I don't go anywhere or see anyone

[malachitezmeyka]

It's that "spend hours sobbing my eyes out in bed for several reasons, including but not limited to the fact tomorrow is Monday, the fact my social battery has been completely drained and won't recover anytime soon, the fact my landlady is due to show up tomorrow evening and will likely piss me off again, the fact I've had the urge to write since Friday and ended up not writing even a single fucking word, the fact exam pressure keeps rising and I still don't know what to do with my life after I'm done with school, and the fact I'm both completely overwhelmed and so terribly lonely at the same time" kind of Sunday evenings

[genshinluvr]

Smug-a-Saurian(s)

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After the failed tour of Natlan, you decided to return to Natlan to complete the tour! However, you end up bringing something back to the abode. Was it intentional? No. Do you plan on letting it happen? Sort of, but you knew better.

Note: This is a spin-off mini-fic of The Nation of War fanfic! I was going to write something longer, but due to my impending night shift for work (tomorrow), I was not able to. My brain has been in shambles the entire week due to work preparations and the passing of Liam Payne (my 11-year-old self is incredibly heartbroken and in tears). Idk how my new work schedule is going to impact my updates, but we'll have to wait and see :< Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: I wrote this with a lot going on in my head, so this fic is most definitely ass 🥲

Word Count: 3k

It’s a peaceful day at the abode, and everyone is lounging in the estate, keeping to themselves and occasionally chatting with one another. It’s a quarter to eleven in the morning, and yet the others haven’t seen you at all today. Your bedroom is vacant, and your shoes aren’t on the shoe rack close to the front door, so it’s safe to assume that you’re currently out and about somewhere in Teyvat. Do they know where you’re at? Not really, but they assume it’s Natlan since Mualani and Kachina wanted to hang out with you today. 

“Who gets up that early to hang out with people?” Itto mumbles, waddling into the living room with a dramatic sigh. “I miss my Onikabuto booboo bear!” He pouts, plopping on the couch beside a mildly miffed Scaramouche.

“If I had to deal with you every day, I would leave to hang out with other people at the ass crack of dawn, too,” Scaramouche grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Itto and Scaramouche glare at one another while Ayato sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Footsteps echo throughout the estate as Gorou walks down the stairs, rubbing the back of his head. The tension once present in the living room evaporates as the men wait for Gorou to speak.

About ten minutes ago— it’s probably less than that— Gorou volunteered to check your room to see if there’s a way to pinpoint when you left the estate. The men have nothing against you leaving the estate and abode whenever you want, but you leaving the abode at an ungodly time is something you would never do (unless you have something really important to do, like having to show up to the Akademiya to prepare for your research presentation).

Thoma stands up, approaching Gorou anxiously. “So? Did you find anything?”

Gorou sighs, propping his hands on his hips. “Their bed is moderately warm, so that means [Y/N] didn’t leave the estate at the crack of dawn. However…” Gorou trails off, stroking his chin. “That makes me wonder how they were able to leave the abode undetected.”

Again, the men aren’t against you leaving the estate and abode alone. You have as much freedom as any other person on Teyvat. What they’re concerned about is your safety— totally not because they’re clingy and want to be around you 24/7! However, they can’t really speak on Zhongli and Neuvillette’s behalf, considering the two men became quite clingy (well, even clingier than usual) after the unsuccessful tour around the Nation of War. 

Paimon sighs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry about them! I’m sure they’re fine somewhere! If you guys are worried, why not communicate your worries with them? Isn’t that how relationships work?” Paimon asks, propping her hands on her hips as she bobs up and down in the air.

Everyone in the room nods, agreeing with Paimon. While they could communicate their worries to you, they don’t want to put any pressure on you after voicing their concerns. Plus, what’s there to worry about? You’re hanging out with your new friends! It’s not like you’re going to be smuggling a wild animal back to the abode or doing some illegal activities while on Teyvat, right?

Meanwhile…

You stand outside the teapot, debating on what you’re going to do with an army of issues before you. You bite your nails and glance at the teapot, then at the Saurian Whelps standing before you, staring at you expectantly. You’re so fucked. You went to Natlan to hang out with Mualani and Kachina to complete the tour of Natlan— of course, Kinich and Ajaw did show up for the first thirty minutes, but they left because Ajaw was being a little shithead that Kinich had to leave earlier than planned.

After hanging out with Kachina and Mualani, you head back to where the teapot is resting. Dakarai is the one to walk you back to the abode because he’s an absolute sweetheart and was eager to spend some extra time with you after not seeing you for who knows how long. However, on your way back to the teapot with Dakarai, you and the Tepetlisaur Whelp failed to notice certain creatures following from a safe distance. When you notice them, it is already too late to try to outrun them because you and Dakarai are surrounded by Saurian Whelps. Dakarai stands before you, curiously inspecting the other Saurians surrounding both of you.

“I don’t think I can bring you guys with me,” you say, tapping your feet on the ground as you try to remain strong in the face of Saurian Whelps.

The Tepetlisaur Whelp tilts its head, gazing at you curiously. You can see a visible question mark appearing above its head. You sigh, rubbing your temples. You’re trying your best to hold in your squeals. The Saurian Whelps are too cute, but at the same time, you cannot bring them into the abode. Saurians are from Natlan, and you don’t know if they can survive in an environment that isn’t Natlan. But how can you not bring them back to the abode with you!? Look at their little faces! They’re literally giving you the puppy dog eyes, almost as if they’re begging you to take them with you!

You turn to look at Dakarai— Aether and Paimon’s Tepetlisaur Whelp companion. “What do I do, Dakarai? I can’t bring them back because I don’t think the abode is a suitable environment for them.”

Dakarai roars in response.

You shake your head. “I don’t know if the abode is suitable for you either, Dakarai. But I guess we won’t know unless we try, right?”

Dakarai roars again in response, flailing his arms around cutely. You hold back a squeal and pat Dakarai’s head instead, hoping that’ll stop you from wanting to bring him into a tight hug. The other Saurians around you and Dakarai roar and whine in response, almost as if they’re demanding you to give them attention.

The Yumkasaur Whelp hops toward you, tilting its head to the side with a questioning gaze. “?” 

You shut your eyes and turn around, hoping that will make you become invisible to the eyes of the Saurian Whelps (it doesn’t). Surely, you can enter the abode without the Saurians trying to go with you, right?

The warm sun of Natlan beams down at you, heating the back of your head the longer you have your back facing the Saurian Whelps. If only Mualani, Kachina, and Kinich were here with you, then maybe they could lure the Saurians away. Unfortunately, it’s you against the world and the Saurian Whelps. Of course, Dakarai is with you, but you’re sure that he wants to come along with you to the abode. 

“Fuck it!” Without thinking, you touch the teapot with your eyes closed, not wanting to see the outcome of what you just did. 

When you’re finally in the abode, you open your eyes to see the beautiful estate where you and your beloveds reside. You nearly sigh in relief, glad that you’re finally home and can finally take a nap after who knows how long you’ve been gone. You stretch as you walk to the front door of the estate, listening to the birds chirping in the distance. 

Just as you reach for the doorknob, the door swings open, and you come face-to-face with Diluc, who sighs in relief when you two make eye contact. Without hesitating, Diluc pulls you into his arms and buries his face into your hair.

“Welcome home, angel. We’ve been worried about you,” Diluc whispers into your hair, tightening his arms around you. 

You peek at Diluc, wrapping your arms around him. “Sorry for worrying you and everyone else. I was in Natlan completing the tour with Mualani and Kachina!” You say, pulling away from the hug. “Kinich and Ajaw were also there, but they left early because Ajaw was being mean.” You scratch the back of your head.

You and Diluc walk into the estate, where the others are waiting for you. The minute twenty-seven pairs of eyes land on you, everyone stands up and nearly lunges at you. The first person to get to you is, of course, Childe. The man has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, rubbing his cheek up against yours.

“Snookums!!! I haven’t seen you at all today, and this is how you greet me!?” Childe exclaims, pouting at you.

You pat Childe’s head, letting him cling to you. “I didn’t even get to greet you today, Childe. In fact, I barely entered the living room, and you’re already on me.” You reply, poking his cheek.

After coaxing Childe to release you from his iron grip, Childe reluctantly releases you after guiding you to the couch. Zhongli walks over to you, handing you a cup of tea. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Zhongli before taking a sip of the warm drink. 

Heizou sits across from you, bouncing his right leg with excitement as he leans forward. “So? How was Natlan? Did you see anything cool or interesting there?” His gorgeous eyes shimmer with curiosity. 

You nod, taking another sip of your tea as Neuvillette holds out a plate of macaroons toward you. You take a pink macaroon from the plate and take a bite of the sweet treat. Now that you think about it… you didn’t have breakfast before leaving for Natlan— nor did you eat anything while in Natlan. Then again, you didn’t feel hungry because you were so focused on exploring the new region with your new friends. 

You eating one macaroon ended up being the entire plate of macaroons. Neuvillette looks almost horrified as he watches you scarf down the sweet treats within five minutes. Wriothesley chuckles and pats your head, watching you happily sip your tea afterward.

“You’re quite hungry, aren’t you? Don’t tell me your tour guides didn’t take you out to eat,” Wriothesley teases, wiping the crumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

You lick your lips and press your lips into a thin line before answering, “They didn’t, but that’s because I was so engrossed in wanting to explore the region that I completely forgot about needing to eat. But! But… I wasn’t feeling hungry at that time.”

Xiao suddenly appears beside you, his eyebrows furrowing. “You didn’t see that Kinich person, did you? I don’t like him,” Xiao states, crossing his arms over his chest before turning his head away from you.

You blink at Xiao, unsure of how to answer him. You technically did see Kinich, but again, it was only for a brief moment because of Ajaw’s lack of behavior. 

“Kinich and Ajaw were at the tour, but they left early! It was just me, Mualani, and Kachina! Oh! And Dakarai!” You reply, nodding.

Xiao huffs, still not pleased to hear your response. Ever since the day of the failed tour around Natlan, Xiao has been voicing his distaste for Kinich’s relic companion. More so, the relic’s unnecessary and rude comments are aimed at you. If Ajaw isn’t making fun of you, he’s making fun of the men and their taste in a partner— or the lack of taste. You appreciate the men coming to your defense, but Ajaw’s comment doesn’t hurt you as much as it should. The relic reminds you of a younger sibling who loves roasting their siblings. Or the spoiled youngest child who gets what they want no matter what— that is what Ajaw reminds you of. 

“Anyway, I’m finally home now, and we can relax in the living room together!” You say, placing the half-empty teacup on the coffee table. 

You lean back on the couch and yawn; the urge to take a nap is slowly taking over. Before Childe can get the chance to have you snuggle up against him, Lyney tugs you in his direction and has you resting your head on his chest. Childe grumbles, shooting a glare in Lyney’s direction, only to receive a shit-eating grin from him. 

Tighnari and Gorou’s ears twitch at a strange sound. The two men lock gazes, not saying a word. Everyone in the room is migrating to where you’re sitting while both Tighnari and Gorou remain standing in their spots. Gorou points at the entrance, wordlessly asking if Tighnari heard the same thing as he did. Tighnari nods, confirming Gorou’s suspicion. 

You peek from Lyney’s chest, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. “Tighnari? Gorou? Are you guys okay?”

Gorou and Tighnari stare at you. Tighnari smiles and nods. “Yes, we’re okay! But do you guys hear that?”

Everyone falls silent, trying to listen for whatever Tighnari and Gorou supposedly heard. Coming from the entrance of the estate, if you listen closely, you can hear faint scratching. It’s almost like something is trying to burrow into the floor of the estate but is unable to. Then, the sound of a familiar roar snaps you out of your sleepy haze. You sit up, looking around frantically at everyone in the room.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me…” you trail off, getting up from the couch and making your way to the front door.

Dainsleif raises his eyebrows at you. “[Y/N]... do you have something you want to tell us?”

You nervously laugh, “I have no idea what you guys are implying.”

It’s a lie. You actually do know what they’re implying, but you’re really hoping that whatever you assume is trying to burrow under the estate is the complete opposite of what you’re actively trying to avoid.

Before you can reach the door, Al Haitham wraps his arms around your waist while Kaveh walks to the door to see what the commotion is. When the door swings wide open, all you see is a small army of Saurian Whelps at the entrance. 

“Dear Archons…” you whisper, covering your mouth.

Kaveh looks at you with wide eyes. “Did you smuggle Saurian Whelps into the abode!?” He demands, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that why you were out in Natlan for so long?!” 

Al Haitham leans over and stares at your face for a moment. You can’t help but feel like a specimen being examined by scientists with the way Al Haitham’s looking at you. Archons, you can just die right now. 

Al Haitham sighs, shaking his head. “Given their facial expression, I highly doubt they smuggled Saurians into the abode. However, it seems like [Y/N] was very aware of the Saurian Whelps following them to the abode.”

You hear a small roar coming from the entrance. Your head perks up, and you see Dakarai at the entrance. When making eye contact with you, Dakarai shakes with excitement and waves at you before barreling past Kaveh and toward you. 

“Dakarai! It’s good to see you again!” Paimon exclaims happily, waving at the Tepetlisaur Whelp.

After seeing Dakarai enter the estate with ease, the other Saurian Whelps follow not long after. The Saurian Whelps surround you and Al Haitham, roaring and mewing with excitement. You go limp in Al Haitham’s arms, sighing in defeat.

So much for returning to the abode without the Saurians coming along; it’s not like you’re against the Saurians becoming residents of the beautiful abode that you share with the loves of your life. However, the people who do mind are your beloveds, and seeing the looks on their faces is concerning.

The majority of them look baffled, and then there’s Zhongli and Neuvillette. While they’re both masters of masking their emotions (most of the time), you can see slight annoyance on their faces. The once clear sunny skies of the abode have quickly turned to a dark gray sky with thunder crackling in the distance. 

Kaeya snorts, shaking his head. “Perhaps [Y/N] wanting to complete this tour around Natlan is another excuse for them to see the Saurian Whelps,” Kaeya teases, pinching your cheeks with a smirk.

Zhongli pinches the bridge of his nose. “We need to have a serious conversation about smuggling creatures into the abode, dearest. While I understand that is not your intention, you still manage to unintentionally bring a wild animal to the estate.”

You open your mouth to protest, but seeing the looks on other people’s faces makes you shut your mouth. The thunder in the distance grows louder and louder with each passing minute. You look at Neuvillette, who casually tucks his hair behind his ears, trying to act nonchalant about the entire situation. 

You squeak, “Neuvillette?”

Neuvillette clears his throat. “I agree with Zhongli. We need to have a serious conversation about this situation. While it’s not your intention to bring back fifteen wild Saurian Whelps to the abode, they are here illegally.”

Oh, shit. For once, Neuvillette isn’t calling Zhongli Deus Auri. You’re fucked. You’re going to get scolded by Zhongli and Neuvillette for unintentionally smuggling Saurians into the abode. The Saurian Whelps whimper, huddling close to you while shivering with fear the longer Zhongli and Neuvillette furrow their eyebrows.

You raise an index finger. “Before you guys scold me for something I didn’t do intentionally… can we pretty please keep the Saurian Whelps? Maybe we can get a license? I don’t know how it works in Natlan, but I can do my research, and then maybe, just maybe, we can let them live in the abode?”

The glares you receive from Zhongli and Neuvillette are bone-chilling, sending shivers down your spine. You sigh in defeat, pouting. You slowly turn to the Saurian Whelps, trying not to melt under the puppy dog eyes the Saurian Whelps are giving you. So much for trying to convince your beloveds to let you keep Saurians in the abode.

“If I can’t have Saurian Whelps in the abode, then can we have Ajaw instead?” You joke.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you crazy?”

You pat the top of Dakarai’s head as he continues to examine his surroundings. If you can’t have an army of Saurian Whelps in the abode, will they make an exception for Dakarai? After all, he is Aether and Paimon’s Saurian companion.

Note: I just fell to my knees. I am finally done writing this fanfic, and it's nearing 3 AM 😭 I officially will not be able to write or post fanfics at my usual time (in the middle of the night) because of my new work schedule 😔 I will make an announcement regarding that in the morning, and it will be pinned. I will make a new navigation post later— it'll hopefully be more organized than my current navigation post. Anyway, To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[leemacher]

You're Enough For Me | Astarion x Gn!Tav!Reader

Summary: Shortly after making it to Baldur's Gate, a moment alone with Halsin reveals how he truly feels about you. In talking to Astarion, you realize the true extent to which his time with Cazador affected him, and his relationship with you. OR In which you and Astarion have a conversation about you rejecting Halsin because I don't like that you can't bring that moment up unless you imply that you said yes to Halsin

Word Count: 2,343

Content: fluff, slight angst, mentions of sex, Astarion's trauma, established relationship

Sliding down a tree trunk to sit, resting against it, you didn’t even begin to take in the river before you. Instead, you closed your eyes for the first time in what felt like days. Listening to the river rushing by you and the birds chirping around you, with a deep breath in your muscles began to relax. 

For once there were no goblins or shadow monsters to watch out for, there were no cultists trying to kill you or the gods chosen to deal with, and no one needed saving. In that moment it was you and the calm, peaceful world around you.

Unfortunately, like all good things, your perfect serene world melted away at the sound of light footsteps behind you.

“If you're here to kill me, bargain with me, or ask for a favor, come back tomorrow. I’m taking the night off.” At your voice, the footsteps abruptly stopped, and instead came a laugh that you would know anywhere.

Astarion moved to stand next to your sitting form, leaning up against the tree on his side. “Darling, if that was your attempt at intimidation it needs some work.”

You found yourself chuckling with a light smile before looking up at him. “Maybe you can teach me.”

He hummed, casting his eyes towards the river. Taking the moment to admire his features, as you often found yourself doing in moments like these as of late, you couldn’t help but wonder how you had gotten lucky enough to be involved with someone like him. No matter how often you knew he thought himself unworthy of your affection, or any affection really, you felt the exact opposite.

This man who had been through so much, fought for so long, had chosen you. Astarion’s past was one both of you battled nightly, so while you didn’t know all of the little details, you knew enough to understand how deeply his time with Cazador affected him. How much of himself he had lost. The idea that what little of himself he had left he was willingly given to you sent shivers up and down your spine every time you thought about it. He chose to be vulnerable with you, he was open with you, eventually, and he could find safety and comfort in your presence. You were definitely the lucky one.

“C’mon, love.” His voice brought you out of your thoughts. By the look on his face, you could tell he had been thinking of the same things.

Grabbing his hand and pulling yourself up and towards him, the two of you began your walk back to camp. Tomorrow you would finally reach the city, and all of the chaos and stress would fall right back onto your shoulders. Tonight though? Tonight you were going to lie down, curled into Astarion’s side, and have the best sleep you’ve had since this nightmare had begun.

 Filing back into camp after a long day of wandering around the city, you couldn’t help but feel joy when you saw Gale making something over the fire out of a few ingredients he had bought during the day. It had been a while since any of you have had food that didn’t just consist of whatever animal you had come across during your journey.

Setting your things down, the first thing you noticed was that most of your companions hadn’t come back yet. Only you, Shadowheart, Gale and Halsin had had their fill of the city it would seem.

While sorting through the items you had bought and… well, not bought, a hand landed on your shoulder and you jumped in fright. Whipping around you came face to face with Halsin, who had a guilty look upon him.

“Sorry, I did not mean to scare you.”

Laughing it off, you shook your head and pulled yourself together. “It’s fine, Halsin. Is there something you needed?”

He nodded, then. “I’d like to talk to you about something actually.” Nodding for him to continue, you watched as the man who stood strong in the face of everything you had faced together became somewhat nervous, though no less serious.

“I never quite realized how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove.” He trailed off for a moment before regaining his words as you tried to figure out where this conversation was leading. “I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you”

You smiled, softly. It seemed everyone in camp had a habit of thanking you for things they did all on their own, albeit with a little support. “I wouldn’t claim to be responsible for all of the things you’ve accomplished, but you’re welcome nonetheless.”

At your words, he laughed lightly in what seemed to be disbelief. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are. But I do.” Your heart felt as if it had stuttered in your chest. He wasn’t implying… Was he? “I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly, but it does now.”

Oh. He was. A thousand thoughts swam through your head. Thoughts of Halsin and the moments between the two of you at the party after the grove, of the feelings you had felt grow slightly at his willingness to risk everything, do anything, in order to remove the curse over the shadowlands and restore Thaniel to his former self. “What are you saying, exactly?” Your words came out in a shocked breath, no doubt picked up on by the man before you.

“I want more than to fight by your side, or to sit around a campfire with you.” His hands reached out slowly and hesitantly for yours. “I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine. And I think you feel the same way, but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

With a slow sigh, you closed your hands around Halsin’s, thoughts ultimately landing on Astarion and the connection the two of you shared. “I won’t lie and tell you that I don’t feel as you do. Your kindness and resilience in all we’ve faced has allowed you to grow on me in a way that I never thought possible.” You could see the deep breath Halsin took in, and knew that even if you did not share in his desires as much as he did, it would hurt you just as much. “But, I’m with Astarion. Mind, body, and soul. Had we met under different circumstances, or had things gone differently, I may have indulged in such sentiments. But I can’t, and truly no matter how I feel towards you, I don’t want to.”

Your hands clutched his tighter, determined to let him down as easily as you possibly could. Halsin was a great man, and he deserved great things. “I know that if I wanted, you would be okay with sharing. The whole ‘as nature intended’ thing,” the two of you shared a laugh. “But Astarion means the world to me, and even if he was okay with it, I wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing myself in that way with someone else knowing that it is his heart I live for.”

Slowly, an understanding smile appeared on Halsin’s face, and his words made the weight of guilt and sadness fly off of your shoulders. “I understand. It is true that I would never ask for you to leave Astarion, nor would I have held you without his consent, but I understand my ideals are not for everyone.” He paused for a moment, squeezing your hands back before releasing them fully. “I am happy that you have found someone you wish to share yourself with in that way. Thank you, for allowing me this moment.”

“Of course, Halsin.” He nodded in goodbye before making his way back over to his tent and slipping inside.

The moon rose quickly, and a fire was kept going by Gale. As all of the others began filing back into camp, excited from things bought and people met within the city, you still could not get your conversation with Halsin out of your head.

Quickly getting up from the fire and grabbing one of the two bags Astarion carried, you brushed your hand against his with the intention of holding it, giving him the opportunity to pull away and smiling brightly when he fully slipped his hand into yours. His tent, as always, was welcoming and warm. Filled with tattered books and the finest blankets and pillows he could get his hands on up until this point, it was no surprise when he pulled out a very nice looking quilt and matching fluffy pillow set that had no doubt cost a fortune, if he even bought them at all.

You sat down, watching as he moved his newly procured items to the exact spot he wanted them in. Chuckling lightly in an almost nervous manner, you disrupted the quiet in favor of getting what happened earlier off of your chest. Not that you had done anything wrong, but it still felt odd for him not to know, given all the things he did know about you due to the many nights spent watching the stars and talking about anything and everything you could. “You wouldn’t believe the conversation I had with Halsin today.”

Your voice came out low, meant for the two of you only, and you watched as Astarion froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me about this.” Your confusion was clear as day, and in voicing this, you were only left more confused. “I guessed! The man can’t stay quiet about ‘enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts’. I bet he’d outlaw clothing if he could.”

Letting out a laugh at his impression of the local druid, Astarion smirked to himself before continuing to move everything around so that his tent was just right. “Wait, so, you’d be okay? If I…” You trailed off, uncertain.

“I’m happy for you to have as much Halsin as you wish, far be it from me to hold your hunger against you. I just have one question, before you go off with him-” Your mind began to spin, as light as the conversation seemed to have been, he hadn’t even given you a chance to tell him what truly happened. He had no doubt that you said yes? “This isn’t because… We haven’t… In a while? Is it?”

His pace in readjusting his belongings finally came to slow down as he said this, intently watching you for a reaction.

“What? No!” Astarion let out a small breath of relief, and before he could continue with what he was about to say, you cut him off. “And slow down, for gods sake. I told him no.”

Astarion’s facial expressions shifted so fast you could barely keep up. “You... said no?”

Nodding, you let a soft smile take over your features. You reached for him, pulling him down towards you and forcing him to sit in front of you. “I said no. I told him that even if you were comfortable with it, I wasn’t. Because I only want you.”

You let your words sink in, holding onto both of his hands and waiting for some kind of response. “Oh. I mean,” he paused. “Oh.” 

“Astarion,” you reached your hand up and placed it lightly on his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I need you to listen to me, very carefully.” His eyes widened slightly. “Sex? Doesn’t matter to me. If we never had sex again it would be okay with me, so long as we were still together. Holding your hand, kissing you, cuddling, just… just talking with you, existing with you, is enough for me. Because I’m not with you for your body, or even your face, even if it is a really really pretty face. I’m with you because of you, because of who you are and the way you make me feel. Your smile, your laugh, your wit, those pesky morals you’ve been developing recently,” you let out a giggle. “Sex with you would be great, if and only if you are comfortable with it.”

It was silent for a moment, before Astarion finally spoke up. “And what if I’m never comfortable with it.”

The waver in his voice was almost enough to make you burst into tears at that very moment. “Then that’s okay.” You brushed your thumb across his cheek. “I love you, Astarion. That’s why I’m with you. I choose to be with you because I am in love with you. Sex has nothing to do with that.”

His eyes fluttered close as you spoke those words, his head leaning ever so slightly into the palm of your hand. 

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, you spoke again. “I’m going to go head out to the fire and get a nice spot ready to eat with the rest of them. Come and join me when you’re ready.” Shifting to get up, you planted a soft kiss onto his forehead and lightly brushed your fingers through his hair before stepping out of the tent and leaving him to process the moment you two had shared.

You sent smiles to your friends as you took up your usual spot around the fire, thanking Gale as he handed you a bowl of freshly cooked soup. Eventually, you felt the familiar hands of your partner slide around your waist and pull you onto his lap.

Setting your empty bowl aside, you smiled at the faintest sound of an “I love you” lingering in the air, so soft you almost didn’t hear it. You whispered it back and laid against him, relaxing into his arms.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Off The Grid blurb

♡ WC: 932 ♡

─ -ˋ °. • ⚘ •. ° ˊ- ─

When dating a professional athlete/ prominent figure it’s easy to get lost in their looks and craft. At first, all you really see is the guy on the field, then as time goes on you get more and more of who they are as a person, and what their personality is, etc.

Looks don’t mean everything in a relationship, but they certainly get your hand in the door to build something more. So imagine after spending a few weeks apart from your beau and coming home to someone entirely different. And not personality-wise.

“Joe?” You called out while rolling your suitcase through the corridor into the living room. There wasn’t a verbal response from him but you could hear a door opening accompanied by heavy steps coming downstairs.

You’d just spent a month in the motherland with your extended family. No American TV, wonky internet access, and an essential break from social media meant you hadn’t seen your boyfriend clearly in about 30 days. It was just a month of reconnecting with a part of your being, so now you were very ready to reconnect with your favorite human being.

“Welcome back, mama.” A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. “How was your trip?”

Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into him, a gentle smile lifting your cheeks when his lips kiss the side of your neck and then settle in the crook of your neck.

“It was good, I missed you though.” Sighing as his arms strengthened their hold on you and his lips pecking the exposed skin around your bodysuit strap. “I missed you so much.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He groans as you card your fingers through his grown out locks.

“I think I can make a pretty good guess.” You chuckled using your other hand to squeeze his wrist.

“Mm mm, I’m holding back from really welcoming you home right now.”

“Yea? Why’s that?” You tease sliding your fingers down the side of his face that’s not stuffed in your neck.

“Gotta feed my girl first, can’t have you passing out on me- unless that’s all my doing.” Your eyes slightly widen as you feel a light tickle along your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, both of your hands admire the scruff aligning his jaw. “This is new.” You bite the side of your lip meeting his crystal blues.

His hands drop lower onto your hips still maintaining the pressure of their hold as a smirk buds on his pink lips. “You like it?”

You nod tracing the line up to his lips. “You don’t think it’s too itchy?”

“I’ve never seen you with this much facial hair before.” Ignoring his question and continuing your exploration of his facial adornment that’s strangely satisfying to the touch.

“Call it the off the grid look, it’s getting cooler out thought it was a good idea when you left. I meant to shave it this morning.”

“Don’t!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Oh I see, my girl really likes it. Don’t you mama?” He smirks backing you up against the counter.

All you can think about is how’d it feel against your lips and between your thighs. “I just, it’s just-

“I know, you were gone for a long time. I bet you weren’t even able to take care of her the whole time. Just counting the days until I could have you again.” In one swift motion, he lifts you up onto the counter and takes the space between your legs.

Even with the extra height that the counter gives, you still have to look up to meet his sultry gaze. "Hi." The breathy tone of your voice gives away just how much he's affecting you.

"Hey, there gorgeous. Wanna tell me why I'm being held hostage by your legs?" He asks with a coy smile, voice husky and low.

Looking down you realize you automatically wrapped your legs around him before he could say anything. "No, not really." Joe chuckles and rubs up and down your thighs.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere mamas." He says lowering his body with a smirk. Your eyes widen realizing what he's intent on doing next.

"Wait no!" His brows shoot up as you pull him back up with the hood of his sweatshirt.

"Yes- His words get cut off by you pulling him forward and pressing your lips together in a long-awaited kiss. Joe hums against your lips and tilts his head to take full advantage of your soft plump lips igniting the love and connection you've built over the months of your relationship.

The kiss itself is gentle and slow, just two lovers enjoying the simplicity of being together without any kind of stressor present. Your arms locked around his neck, his big hands gripping your thighs, and his soft scruff gently rubbing against your lips as your head nods pecking the sides of his pink lips.

"Baby." You open your eyes to the beautiful blonde's smile as you peck his nose before one last kiss to his lips.

"Yes?" You smile back, he shakes his head and then pecks your forehead.

"We should've started with that." He chuckles, and you join in nodding.

"I agree." A calm sensual mood washes back over you as you slowly lean back and spread your legs. Then smirkingly you nod down.

Snickering Joe smirks and hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. "Your wish is my command." He winks sinking back down to his knees.

"Fuck you're perfect."

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Main Masterlist

[sematarygirls]

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ   You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

[danieyells]

Can I see Romeo's voicelines please? He's such a failguy, I need to knowwww

How dare you call him a failguy!

he is THE failguy. don't make him sound offbrand.

i love Romeo he is honestly so ridiculous like. . .you meet Romeo in the first chapter and you do NOT realize he's going to be like. . .that. . .in the Sinostra chapter. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Hey! I'm talking to you, BB! If you've got time to wander around, you've got time to wipe the tables!"

i thoguht the pc was supposed to be doing uh background work for you at the casino. why is she cleaning tables!? go ask her to run drugs for you or something.

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Excuse me? What sane person lets their messages pile up like this!? Deal with them or I'll deal with you!"

'clean up your inbox or they will have to clean you and put you in a box'

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"Fuji... Come out, come out, wherever you are... Tch, where did he go? Why is running away the only thing he's good at!?"

"Listen up—call me Fico. That's the only name I'll respond to, understand!?"

disregard the 'Lulu' from Taiga, 'Romi-sama'/'Ro-Ro' from Leo, 'RomiRomi' from Rui. . .'Fico' is for underlings, and you are an underling!

"Come to my private office later—I've got a little proposal I think you'll want to hear.  But make sure you come alone."

"Just go! I cannot deal with this WTWUT! Wall-To-Wall Useless Trash, obviously!"

that was a long acronym!

"Time to count this month's protection fees... Not bad. I'll up this group by 2% next month. This one could go a little higher too..."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Why does that DOF want to meet so early in the morning? If I get bags under my eyes because of this, I'm going to slit his throat."

we never learned what "DOF" stood for did we. we do know it's Hyde now, though!

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hello? Yes, I was just eating lunch. Again?  ...Fine. Tonight? All right. Bye now."

booty call from hyde? in the middle of the day? shameless

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Have you seen Shinjo anywhere? I just asked him to organize some documents and he ran off to make copies!"

Ritsu has a line referencing this one!

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Mickey's bar? Yes, I am going again tonight, but it's only because there's nowhere else to go for a drink."

isn't there a bar in the casino. . .i guess he doesn't wanna spend time on the casino floor. also "Mickey" is Rui Mizuki, if you weren't able to figure that out haha

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This is when the regulars usually come, so I have to sweeten the pot. I saw that HNTW out there earlier too."

i hate you and your acronyms LMAOOOO I THINK THIS IS REFERRING TO KAITO??? MAYBE??? he's the only character besides Taiga who frequents the casino that we're aware of!

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"How dare those Frostheim slugs start whispering the moment they see my face... One day they'll be groveling at my feet..."

oof. . .the frostheimers are gossiping about the collapse of his family. . .yeah i'd be mad too there bud. i'd like to think he wanted to transfer to Frostheim once he became a second year and he ended up not doing it because Frostheim was just so toxic.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...Looks like I'm due for a tune up soon. Keeping my posture beautiful isn't easy, no matter how much I train my core."

i assume he sees like a chiropractor or a physical therapist or something. gets his atlas adjusted. maybe don't lean over your EITS laptops lol

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You're smelling the bedtime fragrance I bought from Kurossa earlier. He has a good eye, so I often ask him to pick things out for me."

'Kurossa' is Leo Kurosagi and his lines also reference this! I'm glad they get along so well haha I think they mesh pretty great. also the fact that Romeo gives little nicknames to people is cute. . . .

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to see my Insta? I suppose that's fine, but do you even know anything about brands?"

brand ambassador romeo. . .god he probably does all sorts of dumb beauty shit on his instagram. do you think he participates in those health pyramid schemes? probably not, right, he's fairly legitimate in his business practices. . .sort of, sometimes, kind of, as long as you don't owe him money. . . .

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Fuji's pendant? Of course I haven't given up on it. He has no idea of the value of what's hanging around his neck."

neither do we! please inform us!! but on the upside that means that Romeo knows what it is, to some degree. I assume it's some rare, powerful artifact. Kaito at least knows it's important.

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"I have to drink a cup of room-temperature water, do an electric facial and a mask, apply body cream, do my neck routine... I have no free time in the morning."

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hey! There's a hair on the ground over here! And there's dust over here! Can't you even clean something properly without me holding your hand!?"

this is directed at his underlings, not the pc(or not the pc by themself.) I also appreciate that the Japanese specifies this is one single hair he's pointing out. Somebody get this man a roomba.

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I maintain my bullets myself. You really think I'd let another man handle my crown jewels?"

handle your WHAT-- i mean anyone could've guessed you and taiga don't have a very active sex life

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"What is going on with your skin!? Do you even have a proper routine in place? Unacceptable. Your overnight skin cell turnover is suboptimal and it shows."

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"That BTH...! I was almost impressed to see him out so early until I realized he's been playing all night!!"

taiga pulling an all-nighter at his own goddamn casino lmao. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What do you mean you don't need any more noni juice? I went out of my way to prepare it for you. Come on now, drink it."

he personally made it for you! now drink the bitter nasty health juice. don't make him feed it to you. (The fact that he made you a health dink--went out of his way to make it for you--shows that he's really starting to like you and now he's treating you like a pet.)

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Finally, some goods worth talking about. I have to ring that DOF and arrange the next event..."

so Hyde is an active participant in these auctions huh. . .are the secret missions he gives Romeo based on selling and distributing artifacts and anomalies in secret. . .?

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Money, hard work, and patience... That's the cost of true beauty. Don't think it's something you can easily imitate."

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"How about a smoke before bed? I'm joking. If I wasn't selling it, I wouldn't be touching this unhealthy garbage."

quick someone shoop the "quieres" meme with romeo HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY TELL YOU WHAT HE'S HANDLING. . .considering his line of work it could be anything but regular cigarettes or cigars. Is it weed? is it crack?? is it meth???? i find that romeo is essentially the campus dealer hilarious.

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"What? I'm on my way to the gym for a workout. ...You can join me if you're interested."

you know damn well he probably hates getting sweaty. but he's gotta keep up with his health and all so a little workout's not off the table. also you know he's wearing some fuckin. gucci leggings or some shit.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why are you carrying that!? What if you drop it and it breaks? I'll get one of our young guys to do it, so put it down already!"

aw he's worried about--oh no he's just worrying about you dropping his stuff.

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I won't let anyone destroy what I've built— not even my OAOF."

GOD I HOPE THEY EXPLAIN THESE ACRONYMS SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE. I assume the first word is "Own". . .the last word could be "Family" or "Followers"/"Faction" or "Feelings". . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Most of humanity's problems can be solved with money. If you put that another way, without money, you don't stand a chance. That's the way the world works."

again, Taiga compared Ritsu's family to Romeo's before The Incident. Romeo lost everything he had at one point. He's afraid of ending up with nothing again. That's all. Even with the Casino, he doesn't want to lose it because it'd be losing everything he has again. Having no money means going back to 0.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Coming here alone this time of night, haven't you made progress? Come over here, I'll evaluate your efforts."

pc's getting brave enough to go to Sinostra in the middle of the night! probably did some shady job for him too. Also the face he makes while praising you for coming to Sinostra alone late at night is a little. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"What could you possibly be afraid of? You're one of my people! Walk with your head held high or I'll step on it!"

BBY YOU CAN STEP ON HER HEAD ANYWAY. PLEASE DO IT. 👀 also you have been opted out of being one of Taiga's people I guess. You have chosen your faction. /joke

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"This year's AW collection is out... Tch. Not even a hint of taste in any of it. They'll bear this mark of shame for years."

I KNOW THIS ACRONYM! He's complaining about Autumn-Winter fashion!!! lbr romeo men's fashion is kinda boring anyway. I wonder if his family owned a fashion brand. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind the springtime in Japan. The mild weather is a bonus, but it's the transient beauty of the cherry blossoms I truly appreciate."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The new prototype is a tear bomb? A lot of anomalies don't even have eyes, is this really going to be useful?"

i mean it might be useful for the ones that have eyes. . .or for hunting down Kaito.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Shut up! It's nearly time to settle the books so I'm completely run off my feet! I don't have time to deal with you, understand!?"

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Summer is all about aquamarine... If you believe that, you're a follower. A trendsetter would know to go against the grain with a heavier jade piece."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Excuse me!? You really think I would stoop to petty theft!? This scarf and hat are UV protection!"

LMAO HE LOOKED SO SHADY THE PC GOT WORRIED

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"This? It's an original hot water blend with salt and lemon I came up with. You shouldn't be cooling your insides just because it's hot outside!"

i mean. i guess it'll technically help you sweat and cool down faster????

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The heat's finally starting to ease off. I want to take a shower, but it's nearly our peak hour..."

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"They gave us nothing but useless bottom feeders this year... I'd like to see who raised this bunch of idiots. They don't even have a grasp of basic etiquette."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm going to the training grounds to demonstrate sharpshooting for the first- years. It's a waste of my time, but I'm the most skilled at it."

he just wants everyone to see how good he is lolol

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The SS collections are out. What? Are you telling me you don't pay attention to Paris Fashion Week?"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The boss won't stop whining about being hungry. Obviously I'm not going to cook. What are you all standing around for, you damn TGAs!?"

lol Romeo has his underlings feed Taiga as much as Taiga demands food of his own underlings. "please feed your father the boss before he eats one of the chancellor's cats again."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"You look like a fat slug in those clothes. Keeping warm is important, but couldn't you at least tough it out when you're meeting me!?"

HARSH. how about you get her outfits then!!! lolol he's looking at you all bundled up and doesn't even wanna be seen with you

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Everywhere is so dry, it's unbearable. I want to go back to my room and moisturize..."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I get aches when it's cold... I'm taking off early tonight to go drink, then I'll warm up with a low bath."

'i'm gonna put alcohol in me which will make me feel warm but actually make me colder, then get in the bath for a while' lol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Tch... This is the most profitable time of year for us, where the hell is that BTH!?

well you see Taiga hates the cold too so he's probably in a blanket burrito. . . .

His birthday: (November 14th)

"Today is Fico's birthday, so you're dining in style. I'm not going to eat any though, so you can finish it off."

'it's my birthday, so i'm going to treat you! what? me? eat?? no, i'm on a diet!!' i am once again asking the ghouls to EAT PROPER MEALS PLEASE IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY ROMEO HAVE ONE CHEAT DAY. DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO BE CAKE.

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday? I suppose I can celebrate it for you, but you'd better be aware of how much of my precious time you're using."

he treats you better on his birthday than yours. . . .

New Years: (January 1st)

"Felice anno nuovo! This will be the year I claim Fuji's debt and his pendant!"

oh my god he does speak italian. you hear more tidbits of italian fromTaiga than him. also Kaito's pendant must be super important if that's his new years resolution. this is gonna matter in the long run isn't it.

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Hmph. I'm not familiar with this packaging. If you're giving me chocolate, you better have selected it with the utmost care!"

'this is not brand name. how dare you.'

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here. They're mimosa cookies, a special order from an upmarket confectionary in Ginza. I can't say whether your peasant tastebuds can appreciate them though."

peasant? who are you, jin? fun fact, Taiga's White Day line references this one!

"What's that expectant look on your face? Lulu was harping on about mimosas or something before. That what you want?"

so Romeo gets the cookies whether or not he plans to give you some i guess lol

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Just you try and fool me—I'll tear those rags off you and throw you in a cage. So? What do you want?"

converting your friends into human trafficking victims is the latest new prank sweeping the internet!

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Do you have face paint in your pores!? Go wash it off before you end up with hyperpigmentation!!"

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Buon Natale! Go get ready—that reindeer's around again. This year I'm going to catch it for sure!!"

he's going to auction off one of santa's reindeer. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Tch... If you don't have any business for me, I'm leaving! You're wasting my precious time!"

(13 affinity and above)

"My drink is empty. Hey! I'm talking to you! Go bring me a refill!"

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Do I have to teach you how to maintain an adult relationship? This is your last chance, got it!?"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THE ADHD KICKED IN AND I GOT SUPER DISTRACTED i love Romeo so much he's so. . .silly lmao. he's a very fun character. even though i hate his acronyms. But he's also so worried about his image and his money. . .and as much as he complains I think he worries about Taiga too. And as he comes to like you more he worries about you too. It's just that strictness and maintaining control is how he feels most comfortable and how he expresses his attachments. He trusts you. So he wants you to be able to hold you to a high standard.

[scar-lie]

Omega Pt. 13 {Natasha}

Summary : Talking and asking Natasha are hard enough but feeling rejected are even disappointing

Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Reader

Warning : Nothing other than feeling hurt

Word count : 1.596

{OMEGA PT. 12} {OMEGA PT. 13} {OMEGA PT. 14}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know

You're standing in front of Natasha's room, knocking, and when the door opened, you smiled at her, but she just got out of the way so you could come in.

“Sorry, I lost track of time playing with them, but don't worry, they are clean and ready to pick up.” Natasha has had the pups for hours, and she was supposed to bring them back an hour ago for bedtime, but she was just so lost on them that she lost track of time.

“It's ok, actually, uhm...” You shyly shift on your spot, getting nervous about what you're going to ask because, since the talk three days ago, she has tried to avoid the subject and you as much as possible.

“Can we sleep here? ”The question makes her tense and look up at you, shocked and analyzing you, so you quickly look down, knowing asking something like this to the alpha after rejection might not go well.

“I can take the corner, or we if you don't want to sleep next to them,” you fidget the hem of your shirt, getting nervous and expecting her to reject the offer, because for the past 3 weeks all you wanted was to talk to her or be near her, and for James, he put distance between you two because, first, he knows the alpha you want is talk to her or be near her, and for James, he put distance between you two because first, he knows the alpha you want is Natasha, and Natasha wants you, so he distance himself to not make things more complicated than they are, and second, he already found her omega.

“What? ”You grip the hem of your shirt, accepting her response as a rejection, so you sigh and look up at her with a small smile.

“Nothing; can I have them now? .... It's already past their bedtime.” You didn't wait for her answer; you quickly took two to put them in your room and came back to another one.

You're so embarrassed that you almost run just so you could leave right away from her gaze, and when you're in your safe place, your room with your pups, you quickly shut the door, sigh heavily, and start to get ready for the night.

But 5 minutes after you lay down with your pups, there's three soft knocks on your door, making you frown. You're not expecting anyone at this time, not unless Wanda or Yelena need something.

But before you could stand up or shout to the other person on the other side to come in, the door squeaked, making you nervous and scared until it was slightly open. Then Natasha's face was shown, making you sigh in relief.

“Hey, sorry for bothering you at this time, but...” Natasha clears her throat while you sit up on the bed and look at her.

“Can I sleep here instead? "I could take the floor or the couch." You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Natasha has come to you for the first time in 3 days and is asking something so cutely that makes you smile a little, but Natasha feels the opposite; she feels nervous and scared, not sure if this is right that it makes her feel small.

“Or not, it's ok, I’m just going to go back to my room.” Natasha lowered her head, ready to close your door, but you quickly took the comforter off of you.

“No, Nat, wait.” You took her arm and lightly tugged her, so she looked back and looked at your face with a small smile.

“You can sleep here.” You open the door widely and move to the side for her to come in. She smiles at you and holds her pillow tightly, then comes in.

“Thanks, I’ll just take the floor.” You shake your head at her and then take her hand.

“No, you can sleep with us in the bed; there's plenty of room anyway,” you softly said, and when you realize that you're holding her hand, you quickly look away from her but never take your hands off of her.

“It's ok, I’m just going to take the floor, I insist.” You nodded at her and retrieved your hand. Honestly, it's kind of hurtful that she refused to sleep with you and the pups, but you understand her and the situation. I mean, you two weren't mates anymore. 

"Ok,” you go. Take your thickest blanket for her to lay down on and use as a mattress, then a blanket and another pillow for her to use, to at least make her feel comfortable on the cold, hard floor of your room.

You plan to lay it beside you, but when you see her walk to the end of the bed, you quickly go lay it where she is.

“Tell me if you need another thick blanket to lay down or if it's uncomfortable.” You then put the pillow down and stand at the bed, giving her space to get comfortable.

“Thanks, have a good night.” You just give her a small smile and go back to lay down beside your pups.

But the thing is, even if you try hard to sleep, you just can't. The urge to lay beside her makes it so hard to control yourself to just lay beside her and her scents that's lingering in the air of your room. It took every single fiber of your being to not just get up and be with her.

So when the clock hits 2 a.m. You sit up and set your bed to have a barrier around the edges so the pups won't fall down, then you go stand before Natasha with your pillow. You're contemplating whether this is a good decision or not.

“Just do it,” you sigh and slowly crowl next to her, then put your pillow beside hers and slowly lift her right arm since she's lying on her left, then slowly and carefully scoot in the space in front of her, your back facing her front, then gently lay her arm around your waist.

But you didn't expect her to shift, then tighten her hold on you, then pull you closer, cuddling with you while she nuzzles her face in the back of your head, smelling your hair and scent. Your heart flutters and beats faster, happy that she still finds your scent pleasant and is still looking for it, but that’s quickly taken away from you when Natasha sits up and scoots away from you.

“You shouldn’t be here sleeping; you should be in your bed.” You sit up and turn around her, disappointed and hurt while clenching your hands on the comforter in your lap.

“I know, I just want to sleep with you,” you mumble, but she could still hear it. You then bite your lower lips, getting nervous and shy around her.

“Just go back to bed and sleep, please.” You look down, and Natasha is getting guilty by the second, but she doesn’t want you to get a cough or get your back hurt.

“You really don’t want me to at least sleep next to you, do you? ”You chew your bottom lips and play with the comforter while nervously waiting for her response, but that didn’t come; the room became silent once again, and the agonizing silence is enough for you to know what her possible answer is.

But when Natasha was going to answer you, one of the pups started to cry, so you quickly took your pillow, left the comfort of Natasha’s makeshift bed on the floor, and went to tend to the needs of your pups.

“You should go back to sleep; I’ll deal with them,” you said to her. You took him in your arms and lulled him to sleep. You're thankful that he cried because you didn’t know how to get out of that situation, but Natasha didn't. She wants to cradle you in her arms and tell you that she craves your cuddles and touch, but when she notices the distance in your voice and presence, her shoulders slump, and she just lays down to try to get at least a little bit of sleep.

Natasha woke up earlier than you or the pups, and because she didn’t want to wake you up, she neatly folded the comforters and placed them on the couch with the pillow you gave her. She then quietly left the room, going to her room to do her morning routine before going down to take breakfast and go to the gym.

You, on the other hand, are already awake when she’s halfway through folding the comforter, but you pretend to be asleep to escape the embarrassment that’s lingering in yourself, maybe hoping that she at least gives you a forehead kiss or the pups, but that didn’t come, making you sad and disappointed first thing in the morning, so you just sadly smile at yourself while admiring the face of your daughter that’s starting to stir awake, so you scoop her in your arm with the biggest smile you could pull off.

“Hi! Good morning, my little princess. How was your sleep? Was it good? Hmm? ”She coos and giggles a little, pulling a genuine smile out of you and making you happy to see her out of a life-and-death situation, but soon the two boys start to wake up, so your morning turns pretty quickly from sad and disappointed to happy and grateful to wake up another day with your pups.

[half-dead-writer]

you wouldn't guess when I got the idea for the headcanons

SPTO cast painting your nails headcanons

characters: Scott Pilgrim, Wallace Wells, Young Neil, Matthew Patel, Gideon Graves, Ramona Flowers, Kim Pine, Roxie Richter

words: 1295

reader: gender neutral

warnings: none

𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 / 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Scott Pilgrim

oh boy

don't let your hands anywhere near him /j

has like, no experience at all

has no idea how to hold your hand so it's the easiest to paint it, in the end would probably just tell you to lay it on some flat surface, leaning over and squinting while smearing the polish anywhere but your nails

his hands are not used to being so carefully maneuvered (aside from playing games, that is)

he'd insist on finishing at least one of your hand even if you decided to stop in the middle just to prove he can do it

"Hey, it doesn't look... that bad...?"

if you offered to paint his nails, he'd be pretty hesitant, but eventually gave in

if anyone asked him about it, he could always ramble about his partner doing it for him and how he's such an awesome boyfriend that it doesn't bother him!

2 out of 10

Wallace Wells

not to be stereotypical but

babe. he's gay

even if he's inexperienced, he has the patience to do it

would carefully hold your hand while focusing on the task

don't talk to him if you want him to do it well though, he has to have no distractions or else he'll go over the line

in the end he's pretty chill about it tho

"Maybe I should look for a job as a manicurist sometime, eh?"

has no troubles letting you paint his nails if you want, staring at you with a calm smirk as you're focused on your job (he thinks it's cute)

10 out of 10

Neil Nordegraf

he didn't expect his hand to be so coordinated (well, as much as it can be, given he never tried anything like it before)

very focused on not going over the line

he thought it was a pretty fun experience

staring intently at your hand, then his own ... "You think you can do mine now?"

you're excited to show him all the colors he can choose from (unless you don't have that many, in which case he'll take anything)

he's not ashamed of having his nails painted but they'll probably disappear after like few days

he'll simply scratch them off when he's bored and looking for stimulation

but hey, you can paint them again!

5 out of 10

Matthew Patel

probably already tried painting his nails before so he has some experience, but don't count on miracles

tries his hardest

gently holds your hand, has this intensely focused stare on his face

almost shushes you if you try to make some conversation in the middle of it (he must concentrate so he can make it as good as can be!)

"Hold still! ... ugh, now it's on your finger-" quickly wipes it off "Just let me-- AGAIN?!"

you reassure him it's fine

he's adamant that they will be perfect, that his work will be perfect (it isn't)

but he tried

would die if you held his hand and painted his nails though

if he noticed your nails wore off, he'd offer his services again (he asked his girls for help getting better at it!)

5 out of 10

Gideon Graves

doll (/gender-neutral), he doesn't have time for that

if you convince him it's gravely important for you, he might budge

you're lucky he loves you

the end result might even make him proud, who knows?

it doesn't

it really doesn't

you make it look so easy, why is it so damn hard for him!?

probably gets pissed off and curses after the 3rd time of going over the line

now it's personal, he will finish his work, he doesn't give up

his determination would amuse you if he didn't look so serious

will shush you if you try to tell him it's not a big deal

IT IS A BIG DEAL TO HIM!

you start to regret you even asked after spending wayyy too much time with Gideon aggressively scrubbing off the nail polish of your nail each time it doesn't look right

finally, after at least 30 minutes of him getting frustrated, he's done

and... it's... something??

he calmly raises his glasses that fell on his nose during the ordeal, pretending as if he didn't just waste 30 minutes of his life on this task "You're welcome."

won't do it again, don't ask

okay, maybe if you challenge plead him enough, he will

as for you painting his nails... forget it! he's too busy for that (he probably has trauma from his experience)

but maybe, if you ask again in a few days, telling him how it's your way of expressing your love, how no one would even see them and he might just scrub them off later, he might entertain himself with the possibility of it happening

you paint his nails black, the only color he allows you to pick (he's too manly for anything else)

he looks at his hands, both painted to the best of your abilities...

alright, maybe it doesn't look as bad as he expected

might even dig it a little??

you won't see it on him the next day though, he can't let anyone but you see them

4 out of 10

Ramona Flowers

I think out of all the people, she would do your nails the best

she paints her nails pretty often herself, so she's got some skill in it

pick any color! she probably has a lot of them, to match with her ever changing hair

she'd make you both tea beforehand

her cup would probably remain almost untouched, she'd be too focused on making sure that the nail polish doesn't go anywhere other than your nails

when she's painting her nails alone, she'd usually put on some radio so it wouldn't be so quiet

but with you, it's rare for the room to be silent

it's easy for you to get invested in any topic with her, no matter if it's just trivial gossip or complaining about some people she met during her work

you make sure to compliment her great work

she smiled warmly, "...It's not a big deal."

feel free to paint her nails! even if you're not as skilled as her, she'll appreciate it regardless

10 out of 10

Kim Pine

she has the patience for it, probably some experience as well

pretty calm approach, you're free to talk to her or listen to some music in the background while she's working on your nails

might have some really old nail polish somewhere in her house, but I wouldn't count on it still being usable

she'll just steal one from her roommate

her skill might use some adjustment, but overall, they look real nice! the errors are barely noticeable

would love to see you struggle while trying to paint hers if you aren't as good

probably would throw in some smartass quips here and there, but it's all in good fun

"You went over the line like 10 times... But I still like it." she says, observing her freshly done nails

8 out of 10

Roxie Richter

(not) surprisingly she rarely paints her nails (she's too busy being a ninja!)

which makes it a bit hard for her to keep in line

but she's got the spirit

even if there's a lot of distractions, like some song playing in the background and her rambling your ear off, she'll try her best

what counts is for you both to have a good time!

and she will not disappoint

the painting session probably takes longer than usual due to your giggles filling the room every few minutes

"Hey, do mine now!" she reaches out her hands excitedly as soon as yours dry off

hopefully you're not too distracted by your girlfriend's gushing about how she's gonna love the end result

4 out of 10 (10 out of 10 in the fun scale!)

[genshinluvr]

Where I Truly Belong

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Your arrival at Teyvat was sudden and you thought you'd be welcome with open arms and new friendship. However, you were terribly wrong. You were ignored, threatened, and chased out of the regions in Teyvat. One day, on the heart island outside of Liyue, a portal opens and an opportunity is given to you. An opportunity where you have power and control over fate. Perhaps this is where you truly belong.

Note: This fic mainly focuses on the reader, so not a lot of Genshin men will be speaking in this overall fic unless it's something huge. I don't know how I feel about this story. I have come to the conclusion that I suck ass at writing the main character as a villain. I thought this fic was going to be longer, but I think it's best to cut it short because I'm not sure where it's going, and leaving it as where it ended is good. This is my first attempt at writing a villain!reader, and I think it's decent-ish for my first time. Again, you guys might think it sucks ass and honestly, understandable if you do think it sucks. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Reader gets impaled, mentions of blood, failed depictions of villainous reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Part 2 of Where I Truly Belong is [HERE].

The day you arrived at Teyvat, you were alone. The familiar faces of the characters you loved were nowhere to be found. You assumed they were going to try to find you and perhaps help you adjust to their world, but you were wrong. No one searched for you; therefore, you searched for them instead. When you found the beloved characters you love before being thrown into Teyvat, they ignored you. Even if they recognized you or had this sense of familiarity when seeing your face among the crowd, they continued on with their day as if you were never there. 

You run toward Aether, grabbing him by the wrist. “Aether! I finally found you! I—”

Aether yanks his wrist from your grasp, gazing at you like you had just grown two heads. Your heart drops to your chest, watching the blond man take a step back while the floating girl beside him gazes at you warily. Aether doesn’t say anything, and neither does Paimon.

“Do you know this person, Traveler?” Paimon asks, floating closer to Aether. 

Aether shakes his head. “I don’t know them, Paimon. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong person,” Aether states firmly, almost glaring at you.

You swallow the lump in your throat after hearing Aether’s response. Before you can say anything, a voice from a distance calls out to Aether and Paimon. You, Aether, and Paimon turn to see Lumine running toward the three of you with a big smile while Dainsleif follows behind.

Lumine stops in her tracks. “There you two are! I can’t believe you two ran off like that! I don’t understand how you and Dainsleif were traveling companions,” Lumine huffs, propping her hands on her hips.

“I was more of his babysitter, making sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” Dainsleif snorts, rolling his eyes when Aether grumbles incoherent words while Lumine and Paimon snicker.

You clear your throat. Lumine and Dainsleif look at you for a brief moment before Lumine loops her arms around Aether’s left arm, pulling him elsewhere with Paimon and Dainsleif following behind, leaving you standing in the middle of the field alone. Dark stormy clouds roll in, and you’re immediately soaked to the bone, watching the four figures get smaller and smaller. The four figures soon became blurry— you’re not sure if it’s because of the pouring rain or if it’s because of your tears. At this point, it’s hard for you to tell the difference between the two. 

You decided to stop by Mondstadt after meeting Aether, Lumine, Dainsleif, and Paimon. Once you reached the City of Freedom, you took shelter and made sure you weren’t entering the city looking like a soaked rat. After the sky clears up and you’re not soaked to the bone, you enter t the vast city. You thought the people of Mondstadt would be nicer when they see you, but you’re wrong. Huffman and Sara from Good Hunter are friendly people. However, people who have visions are the opposite. You tried talking to Albedo, Venti, Diluc, and Kaeya. Still, they all ignored you or acted like you were a crazy person.

“I believe you have one too many dandelion wines,” Kaeya chuckles, leaning against the counter at Angel's Share, nursing wine in his hands. 

Venti is sprawled over the counter at Angel's Share. You can practically see birds flying around his head. The poor Bard is not only drunk, but he’s also mumbling incoherently. Diluc sighs, cleaning the cup before tending to his duties around the tavern.

Diluc mumbles, “They’re not a customer, Kaeya.”

Venti scoots over to the Chief Alchemist, whispering loudly to the man, “Is it just me, or does this strange person look like they were fished out of Cider Lake?”

Albedo looks at you for a brief moment before gazing back at his sketch pad, not saying a word to the Bard. Even though none of them have outwardly shown you they don’t want you in Angel’s Share, you know from the way they look away from you and act around you they don’t want you in the same building as them. So, you gather up your things and leave the tavern. You’re used to being alone in your world, and seeing the people you adore treat you like you didn’t exist hurts. 

“Maybe the next region won’t be so bad,” you tell yourself.

Liyue is interesting. When you step into the beautiful region ruled by the Geo Archon, you are met with a polearm pointing at your throat. Xiao stands before you, glaring daggers at you with such distaste that it nearly made you want to skip Liyue altogether. 

“Outsiders are not welcomed to Liyue,” Xiao spats.

You know the Yaksha before you is doing his job to protect the region once ruled by the Geo Archon, but the way he gazes at you with such… hatred… made you second guess your presence in Liyue. 

You clear your throat. “I thought adventurers are welcomed to Liyue, Xiao,” you whisper, hands shaking at your side.

Xiao glares at you, not saying a word. Oh. When Xiao said that outsiders aren’t welcome in Liyue, he meant you. You’re not welcome to Liyue, not because you’re not an adventurer or a tourist from another region visiting the City of Contracts. It’s because you’re not from Teyvat. But even if you’re not from Teyvat, Aether, Dainsleif, Paimon, and Lumine aren’t even from Teyvat either. However, they’re still welcomed with open arms. 

“I won’t cause any harm, I promise. Is it a crime to walk into a region? I don’t have any weapons on me, nor do I pose a threat,” you say.

You dig into your pockets and hold your hands up to show Xiao you have no weapon on you. Xiao reluctantly points the polearm in the opposite direction of you and stares at you. You sigh in relief and walk past the Conquerer of Demons. In Mondstadt, no one pointed their weapons at you. In Liyue, though? You can’t really get upset with Xiao over it, really. All he’s doing is his duty to protect Liyue from danger.

When you step into Liyue Harbor, you stop in your tracks and look at the beautiful city. The City of Contracts is full of life, and the chatter of the citizens fills the once-silent air. After the encounter with the four outlanders, the men of Mondstadt and Xiao, you can't help but hesitate to continue further into the city. You know the Yaksha is watching your every move like a hawk. You don't necessarily blame him, but the encounter with Xiao made you hesitate.

Should you continue further into the City of Contracts? Or will the not-so-deceased Geo Archon make you face the wrath of the rock for stepping into his beloved city? Your hands shake at your sides, making you swallow the lump in your throat. You take a deep breath and continue into the city, making sure not to bump into a green-haired doctor and the former Geo Archon. You don't have anything against them, but they might have something against you, like how Xiao does when you step foot into the region. You stand in the middle of the city, staring at nothing. Why did you continue to venture into the City of Contracts?

You searched for the familiar faces from a beloved game you loved so much back in your world, only for them not to like you. It was a rude awakening, and you're unsure of why they treat you this way when you have never met them— nor did you plan on meeting the characters you have always loved. Someone bumps into you, causing you to stumble forward and snap out of your thoughts.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” you say, turning to look at the person that bumped into you before freezing up.

“Why am I the one apologizing when I wasn’t the one that bumped into him?”

The ginger-haired Harbinger glares at you. “Next time, don't stand there and take up space,” Childe hisses, shoving past you and purposefully bumping your shoulders.

You rub your shoulders, watching the ginger Harbinger approach a certain Geo Archon, his demeanor changing almost instantly as he greets the Archon happily. 

You press your lips into a thin line before turning around and walking away. As you walk away, Zhongli looks at Childe quizzically. Childe dusts his clothes and props his hands on his hips, sighing and acting like nothing had happened. Once you're out of view, Zhongli turns to Childe.

“Childe? Is that who I think it is?” Zhongli murmurs, stroking his chin.

Childe scoffs, continuing not to know who you are even though he's very well aware. Childe nudges the Geo Archon to follow him to the restaurant where he, Zhongli, and Doctor Baizhu will be having dinner. Baizhu shakes his head, walking beside the Geo Archon.

“Just to let you know, you're a little bit harsh on them despite you being the one that bumped into them,” Baizhu mutters, shaking his head with disapproval.

Childe rolls his eyes and changes the subject as the two men arrive at the Liuli Pavilion. Meanwhile, you sit outside of the city of Liyue, hugging your knees to your chest. You made a massive mistake of seeking out these people that you adored in your world. You should've started a different life in Teyvat, living among the citizens of Teyvat and living in solitude. But of course, you being you, you decided to seek these people out, only to be disappointed in the end. 

You still have Inazuma and Sumeru to explore and visit. However, you want to avoid stepping foot in the two other regions after what happened with the outlanders, the men of Mondstadt, Xiao, and Childe. You have yet to meet Zhongli and Baizhu, so you can't make a judgment on how they would treat you upon meeting for the first time. But if Xiao reacted in such a way when you entered Liyue, who knows how Zhongli and Baizhu would react?

You nearly forgot how fast time passes in Teyvat. One minute it was the afternoon, and when you blink, the sun is already setting. Technically, time doesn't change in a blink of an eye, but it does feel like it in Teyvat. You close your eyes and rest your head on your knees. Would visiting Inazuma and Sumeru hurt? You're not going to try to meet the beloved characters you know and love. You want to see the architecture and city up close. 

And that is what you did. You went to the two regions, made sure to avoid bumping into any familiar faces, and somewhat succeeded. However, it lasted only a short time when Itto and Scaramouche brought awareness to your presence in Sumeru and Inazuma. So, you left the two regions in a hurry, and now you're on this little heart island far out of Liyue, sitting at the edge of the island.

You bury your feet into the sand, watching the waters crash to shore and wet the sand above your feet. You wiggle your toes and shield your eyes from the sun. A large portal suddenly opens beside you, making you jump and stumble back. A tall Abyss Lector emerges from the portal, arms open and hovering toward you.

“Stay back!” You scream, grabbing the nearest object to use as a weapon.

The Abyss Lector cackles and stops before you, leaving a reasonable distance between you two. The Abyss Lector continues to stare at you in silence as if waiting for you to calm down. You take a step back. The Abyss Lector crosses their arms over their chest, chest rumbling with laughter. 

“What do you want from me?” You whisper.

“Watching you try and fail over and over is pathetic,” says the Abyss Lector.

You stare at the being before you blankly. Oh, so the Abyss Lector has been watching you try to befriend the beloved heroes of each region with mirth. Yeah, you would be doing the same thing if you weren't, well, you. You cross your arms over your chest and sigh as a sense of dread falls over you. You're alone in this heart island with the Abyss Lector, probably their next target aside from Teyvat and the Archons.

“If you're going to insult me, can you do it after you kill me? It'll save me from the embarrassment,” you mutter.

The Abyss Lector howls with laughter, head thrown back, shoulders bouncing. “Kill you? I have a proposition for you, and you are to decide whether you want to do it or not,” says the Abyss Lector.

You can't help but be wary of the Abyss Lector. While the Abyss Lector has yet to harm you, the Abyss has caused catastrophic harm in the past. You decide to listen to the Abyss Lector's proposition. The Abyssal creature went on a ten-minute tangent about the offer and would answer many of your pressing questions. To your surprise, the Abyss Lector was patient with your questions and had no issues with you not understanding certain parts of the proposition. You're grateful the Abyss Lector didn't attack you upon first meeting you— technically, the Abyss Lector created a portal near you on the heart island outside of Liyue.

“So? Do we have a deal or no deal?” asks the Abyss Lector, holding their hands out.

You press your lips into a thin line. Is this really what you want to do? You can’t turn your back on the people you adore. However, with how they treated you…. Does it really matter at this point? 

You furrow your eyebrows, nodding. “I accept your offer,” you say, placing your hand in the Abyss Lector's hand.

The Abyss Lector claps their hands. “Wonderful! Please, step into the portal, and we shall start our journey together,” says the Abyss Lector.

The Abyss Lector lets out a cackle and opens the portal. You and the Abyss Lector step into the portal, sealing your fate. Time flies in the Abyss— three days on Teyvat is three months in the Abyss. You didn't mind the drastic change of time and how fast time flies by in the Abyss. It took some time, but you were able to get used to it. Because you're not from Teyvat or from their universe, you mapped out the areas on Teyvat for the Abyss Order to target. You didn't have to do the attacking and invading like the Abyss Herald, Abyss Lectors, and other Abyssal creatures. All you have to do is sit on the throne and tell them what to do.

You sit on the throne in the Abyss, leaning on your right arm and watching the Abyssal creatures roam around. As the ruler of the Abyss Order, there wasn't much for you to do. Sometimes you would embark on your journey to Teyvat with the Abyss Lector, witnessing the damage being done to Teyvat. Usually, you would feel anger and sadness when the Abyss Order is harming the citizens of Teyvat and wanting to inflict harm on the Archons, but now? You could care less about what is being done to the people of Teyvat and their Archons.

“Your Highness, it's time,” says the Abyss Lector, kneeling at the foot of the throne.

This isn't the first time you'll be visiting Teyvat while the Abyss Order is running amock on Teyvat. But for some reason, you can't help but feel anxious about visiting Teyvat. The Abyss Lector, named Agnarr, holds their hand out for you to take. You take a deep breath and grab Agnarr's hand. Egill levitates forward, nodding. The two Abyss Lectors lead you out of the throne room of the Abyss, opening the portal to Teyvat.

Sumeru is on fire— literally. You and the two Abyss Lectors stand afar, watching the citizens of Sumeru scream and scramble out of the city while it's engulfed in flames. You see familiar faces running to the farthest part of Sumeru, but you pay no attention. Other Abyss Lectors and Heralds open various portals around Sumeru City, floating toward the Great Tree. Abyss Mages emerge out of thin air, cackling and attacking those they see.

“What do you think, Your Highness?” asks Enjou, appearing out of thin air, startling you.

You press your hand against your racing heart and take a deep breath. You turn to Enjou, glaring at the Pyro Abyss Lector, who cackles after seeing your reaction. You huff and glare at Enjou, who is now levitating before you with his arms over his chest. Enjou has the tendency to scare the crap out of you at every chance he gets. On the other hand, Agnarr and Egill aren't fond of the idea of Enjou popping on and out of places to get a reaction out of you.

You take a deep breath. “Enjou, can you please stop doing that?” You ask.

Enjou hums. “Hmmm, I don't think I can do that, Your Highness. It's my job to make sure you're stealthy and always alert! Who knows, someone could attack you while we're not at your side,” Enjou says nonchalantly. 

“They needn't worry about their safety when they're with us,” Agnarr hisses at Enjou.

Egill scoffs, crossing their arms over their chest. “As if we'd let them be in harm's way. Those who try to take the Abyss Order's Ruler shall fall and watch the world around them burn,” Egill hisses.

Enjou raises his hands, shaking his head. You sigh, turning back to the scene of the burning city of Sumeru. The screams and cries fill the chilly night, sending chills down your spine. It has taken you months to get used to hearing the anguished screams of the citizens of Teyvat, but the more you listen to it, the more you have gotten used to it. While you did not want to hurt the citizens of Teyvat and only specific people who have hurt you and turned you away, the Abyss Order spares no one. Not even children and animals.

“Burning down buildings and villages won't do much for the Abyss Order,” you murmur, stroking your chin. “We'll discuss this when we return to the Abyss.”

Agnarr, Enjou, and Egill nod their heads. You yawn as Egill opens a portal to the Abyss. The three Abyss Lectors all levitate toward the portal with you by their side. Before you can step into the portal, an arrow flies by your face, forcing you to come to a stop. Agnarr and Egill step in front of you to shield you from harm, glaring at the perpetrator. You peek from their arms to see what's going on, only to realize Enjou is standing in front of Agnarr and Egill, blocking the perpetrator's view of you.

“Who dares to try to harm their Highness!” Enjou growls, his hands bursting into flames.

You hear a familiar laugh— a bitter laugh that causes goosebumps to appear on your arms. Childe. 

“As if they weren't the ones that cause mass chaos on Teyvat,” Al Haitham hisses.

You peek from behind Agnarr's arms to see Al Haitham standing there, glaring at the three Abyss Lectors. Al Haitham isn't alone. In fact, he's accompanied by twenty-six familiar faces, along with Lumine and Paimon, standing beside her twin brother and Dainsleif. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. You yawn dramatically, grabbing everyone's attention.

“If you're all finished with the dramatic entrance, I will be returning to my humble abode now,” you say with a blasé attitude.

Another arrow is shot, flying past your face and slicing your cheek open. You lightly touch the fresh cut on your cheek and gaze at the crimson blood on the tips of your fingers. You scoff, gazing at Gorou, who glares at you and bares his fangs, growling lowly. You wipe the blood on your clothes, shaking your head.

“Oh? So, you want to start something you can't finish?” You smirk bitterly. “Fine, have it your way, pests.”

Itto smirks. “Something we can't finish? I'm pretty sure you're the one that started something that you cannot finish!” Itto proclaims.

You prop your hands on your hips, glaring at the Oni. You cover your face with both hands briefly, sweeping your hands up and back your head, and your appearance changes instantly. Your eyes are bitch black, and the tips of your fingers are pitch black and dark blue with specs of glimmering stars that mimic the galaxy. A long cape similar to Dainsleif's drapes down your back and pools around your feet.

You close your eyes and begin muttering under your breath, your hair illuminating, and the shadows below you come to life, slithering toward your attackers. The first person to be snatched and dragged was Itto because of his annoying egotistical, and overly confident attitude. You hate how obnoxious he is, and he was once your favorite character from Inazuma due to his personality. 

But the longer you stay on Teyvat, the more you can't handle his loud personality. He reminds you too much of a particular person back in your world, and, quite frankly, hurting him will be another way of harming the person you knew in your world without actually harming them. Your patience and sanity have withered away, and you want to make them feel your wrath for how they have treated you since your arrival.

The shadowy tentacles wrap around Itto's ankles, yanking him up into the air before throwing him to the side. Itto lands on the ground with a hard thud, groaning in pain. You snicker and levitate in the air, crossing one leg over the other with your arms over your chest. A portal opens up behind you, and Dainsleif, Lumine, and Aether emerge from the portal, tackling you to the ground. You open the dirt ground, letting it swallow the four of you.

“How dare you attack the Ruler of the Abyss Order!” Enjou howls with anger, throwing balls of flames at your attackers.

Another portal opens beside Agnarr and Egill. You step out of the portal, dusting your clothes off with an infuriated sigh. Agnarr and Egill quickly whisk you away, opening up another portal. Scaramouche growls with anger, pointing at the portal as you, Agnarr, and Egill levitate away.

“They're getting away! Don't let them get away, dammit!” Scaramouche screams.

Xiao growls and appears before you in a blink of an eye and manages to kick you away from the two Abyss Lectors, sending you tumbling to the ground. You groan and kneel, looking up to see Xiao looming over you. Xiao clutches his jade spear so tight that he can snap it in half. The same jade spear you managed to get for him after blowing hundreds of dollars for that weapon on the damn weapon banner. Xiao raises his polearm up, preparing to impale you with his polearm. 

You wince and look away, bracing yourself to get impaled. You hear a loud squelch, a pained gasp, and an anguished scream. You turn to see Enjou's left hand sticking out of Xiao's chest— where his heart should be. You gulp and watch Enjou throw Xiao to the side, letting the Yaksha bleed out on the grass. Agnarr and Egill rush to you, pull you by your arm, and create a portal. The four of you soon fled the scene. 

“How disappointing. I wanted to see them all perish,” you sigh, plopping on your throne while rubbing your temples. “But it looks like I'll have to wait another day to witness the downfall.”

Agnarr comes forward. “Your Highness, are you alright?” asks Agnarr.

“I'm fine, Agnarr. I'm not physically harmed,” you murmur.

Egill gestures to your cheek. You subconsciously touch the wound on your cheek, feeling the stinging thin cut. It's a mere flesh wound, nothing more, nothing less. It's not like it can kill you unless it's laced with poison. If the arrowhead were to be laced with poison, you would've known immediately. It seems like this attack was more improvised than planned, given the fact how messy it turned out for the opposing side. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I'm fine, Egill. It's a mere cut. It won't kill me,” you murmur, brushing away Egill's concern.

The one thing you wish didn't happen was fleeing the scene so quickly. You wanted to watch the opposing side fall. You want to witness the bloodshed in Sumeru. Due to a certain Yaksha almost successfully slaying you, you had to be ushered immediately out of the battlefield and to safety.

“That Adeptus nearly killed you, your Highness. That is inexcusable, and he deserves every ounce of punishment from the Abyss Order,” Agnarr hisses.

You chuckle, shaking your head. It would be funny to see Xiao try and kill you. If he did manage to kill you successfully, the Ruler of the Abyss Order, then who knows how the Abyss Order will react. Watching the downfall of the Archons and the citizens of Teyvat is something you surely do not want to miss out on. 

“I agree with you, Agnarr. Those who intentionally try to harm the ruler of the Abyss Order shall fall and watch the world around them burn and crumble to the ground,” you nod.

After what happened today, you will not be returning to Teyvat until further notice. It's best to remain in the shadows while the Abyss Order does what you say from behind the scenes. In order to take down an entire region, aside from terrorizing the cities and its citizens, you need to take down the beloved Archons of each nation. But the question is: what Archon is going to be your first target? The Anemo Archon? The Geo Archon? The Electro Archon? The Dendro Archon? Heck, maybe the Hydro Archon? You have yet to step foot into the City of Justice, but seeing some familiar faces from her region makes your blood boil.

“What is on your mind, Your Highness?” Enjou asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Which Archons do you think is the most annoying?” You ask, getting up from your throne. 

The three Abyss Lectors gaze at you quizzically. While their faces are covered, you can tell they’re confused about what you’re implying. You sigh, rubbing your temples. You’re not sure if you can pull it off, but it’s worth a try, right? Is kidnapping an Archon risky? You're the Ruler of the Abyss Order, for fucks sake. So you continued where you left off. 

“Now, I have yet to meet the Geo, Dendro, Hydro, and Electro Archon, so I can’t make a judgment on how annoying they are. However, I did meet the Anemo Archon and….” You trail off, face pinching up with disgust. “What I'm trying to say is let's kidnap an Archon,” you conclude, clapping your hands.

“The question is, who are we going to be kidnapping, your Highness?” Enjou asks.

Your first answer was to kidnap the dear Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. However, thinking back to your encounter with the said Archon, you sure as hell do not want to deal with him again. The first encounter was already enough for you, and the Bard doesn't seem like he would put up much of a fight. You want a challenge, and an Archon who is “deceased” would be the first step to go. Who would notice an Archon disappearing overnight? An Archon who isn't really dead.

That's how you find yourself standing before the Geo Archon in the ruins of Liyue. You could kidnap Zhongli and bring him to the Abyss, but you knew the Abyss would rapidly deteriorate his sanity, and you didn't want that. Yet. The Geo Archon is tied up against a tree in the Chasm, his mouth taped shut to prevent him from calling for a certain Yaksha. The Geo Archon stares at you emotionlessly.

“The citizens of Liyue aren't the brightest. Assuming their God is dead when he's roaming among them, alive and well,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We never met, and I deeply apologize for this being our first meeting.”

Is it really your first time meeting Zhongli? Zhongli was there when you, Agnarr, Egill, and Enjou were in Sumeru, watching the city burn to the ground. Though, he did not attack you like how the others have tried to attack you. You weren't sure if the Geo Archon had something up his sleeves, but you can't help but feel satisfied with how easy it was to kidnap the Geo Archon. It's almost too easy for your liking.

Zhongli glares at you as you approach him. You grab the tape from the corner and peel it off Zhongli’s lips so he can speak. It’s not like Zhongli is going to call out the name of the short Yaksha to save him. A Geo Archon like himself doesn’t need a savior. Zhongli can get himself out of this situation without an issue, and you’re surprised to see Zhongli not fighting back. Would Zhongli stand a chance against three Abyss Lectors in the corner, watching his every move?

“I see you're the new Ruler of the Abyss. Such a shame to see someone not of this universe become something that destroys the world they once loved,” Zhongli says nonchalantly.

You smirk at Zhongli bitterly. “Once loved, Zhongli. What's there to love when all I've been receiving is hate and being treated like I wasn't human? Your little Yaksha nearly killed me when I first stepped into Liyue,” you hiss, clenching your fist so tightly that your nails dig into the palm of your hands.

You didn't want to become those cliche villains who talk the victim's ears off— talking about your tragic background and how you became who you are. But here you are, talking the Geo Archon's ears off about how you were treated when you encountered the people who did you wrong. You wanted to meet the characters— the people— you adored, but you were cast aside. 

Heck, even the hilichurls and mitachurls treated you better than how the Archons and prominent figures of Teyvat treated you. The citizens of Teyvat treat you no differently. They went along with their day and would glance at you every now and then when you visited the cities. They treated you better than those who had visions. And yet here you are, burning down their homes, crops, and businesses all because of a small handful of people making you feel unwelcomed and unsafe when stepping into their nation.

“I'm going to be generous and not kill you. However, I do want something from you, and it's not your gnosis. Your gnosis is useless to me,” You say, standing before the (former) Geo Archon.

Zhongli stares at you, not saying a word. You sigh with disappointment. You don't know how much longer you can take this. Seeing the Geo Archon before you, tied up and defenseless, is fun, but at the same time, it's pathetic. Then again, you would rather be stuck in the same room as Zhongli than the Bard you met in Mondstadt. You squat before Zhongli and grab him by his hair to make him look at you.

“And what is it do you want?” Zhongli asks through clenched jaws. 

Just when you open your mouth to tell him what you want, a polearm pierces you through the chest. You tighten your grip on Zhongli's hair, gasping in pain. You look down to see the blade of Zhongli's vortex vanquisher buried deep in your chest cavity. You release Zhongli and stumble back, hands shaking as you grab the polearm. Zhongli glares down at you, his amber eyes glowing with hate and anger. 

“Did you think you would succeed?” Zhongli hisses, digging the polearm deeper into your chest.

You lie on the ground, blood pooling beneath you while Zhongli stands over you. Zhongli notices the Abyss Lectors have yet to attack him. You, their precious Ruler, are impaled, and yet they're doing nothing to help you. You grab the base of Zhongli's polearm, trying to pull the blade out of your chest, only to fail. You struggled for a few minutes before going limp. Eyes glazed over as your lifeless eyes stared into his soul. Zhongli furrows his eyebrows, questioning why it's so easy to kill you and why the Abyss Lectors didn't attack him for impaling and killing you in front of them.

The tense and quiet air in the Chasm is soon broken by the sound of clapping from a distance. Zhongli looks up to see you leaning against the wall with an amused look on your face. You descended the stairs in all your glory— the very same cape flowing behind you. Zhongli narrows his eyes at you and then at your lifeless body on the ground.

“You put on quite the show, Morax. However, you killed the wrong person,” you giggle.

Your lifeless body soon evaporates into a puff of smoke as the Abyss Lectors stand beside you, forming a barrier between you and the Geo Archon. 

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “It's such a shame to see my clone get slaughtered in front of me,” you mutter, shaking your head with disapproval.

“You....” Zhongli trails off.

You tilt your head to the side, pouting at him mockingly. “I what? Did you think you would successfully kill the Ruler of the Abyss? Oh, please! I wouldn't make it easy for you,” you giggle.

You walk toward Zhongli and caress his face. “You're not in your prime time anymore, Morax. You’ll need to do way more than stab me in the chest to get rid of me,” you whisper. “If you'll excuse me, I have a business to tend to. Agnarr and Egill will be keeping you company while Enjou and I are gone.”

Your clone's blood is splattered on Zhongli's face— not going to lie, Zhongli looks attractive with blood on his face. You let your hand fall to your side, smirk at the Funeral Consultant, and turn around, opening a portal for you and Enjou. 

Once you step through the portal with Enjou, the portal closes, leaving Zhongli and the two Abyss Lectors alone. Zhongli clenches his jaws, tightening his grip on his polearm. Zhongli's not going down without a fight, and he will find a way to escape one way or the other. The first thing he needs to do is get rid of the two Abyss Lectors. He could call Xiao for assistance, but Zhongli can handle this on his own.

In the Abyss, you sit on your throne with your legs crossed over the other as you stare at the two Abyss Lectors. You tap your fingers on the armrest, gaze falling upon the kneeling blond before you. Dainsleif is in cuffs, glaring up at you. When you arrived at the Abyss with Enjou, you were informed that the two Hydro and Cryo Abyss Lectors had captured a certain blond. Now, you're unsure of why Dainsleif was popping in and out of the Abyss, but you have an inkling feeling it's to hunt you down.

“Care to explain by the Abyss Lectors found you roaming around the Abyss?” You grumble.

Dainsleif doesn't reply and continues to glare at you. Dainsleif has cuts littering his body, his lip is cut open, and he looks like he was dragged through debris. Nonetheless, you could care less about his condition at the moment. You sit up and rest your elbows on your knees, raising an eyebrow at the blond man. You sit back and close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out a slow exhale.

Dainsleif stumbles up while struggling in his cuffs, only for the Cryo Abyss Lector to grunt with annoyance, hitting the blond man on the back of his head. Dainsleif grunts in pain and collapses to the ground on his knees. You click your tongue and open your eyes, gazing into Dainsleif's blue eyes. Dainsleif continues not to say anything, glaring at the ground.

“Your Highness, are you hungry?” Enjou whispers.

You shake your head and dismiss Enjou's question. You leave your throne and step toward the kneeling blond man. Enjou reaches forward and grabs you by your wrist. You turn to Enjou, who shakes his head. You give Enjou a reassuring smile— Enjou swallows. Ever since you agreed to become the new Ruler of the Abyss, Enjou and the other Abyss Lectors, Heralds, and Abyssal creatures have yet to see you smile or laugh. You always have this deep frown and glare— you glared so much that it's permanent at this point.

You step toward Enjou. “I'll be fine, Enjou,” you whisper.

Enjou reluctantly releases your wrist, watching you turn and walk to Dainsleif. You stop before Dainsleif, grab him by the chin, and tilt his head up. Dainsleif stares at you. You want to laugh after seeing him in this state. This is your first time seeing Dainsleif in such a state. It's pathetic and comical. Someone persistent with searching for the Abyss twin, traversing through many regions and maybe even universes, just to find them and snap them out of it. And now Dainsleif is here, kneeling before you and looking pathetic. 

“Never in my life would I see you in this position, Dainsleif. It's shocking and pathetic,” you say nonchalantly. “Care to tell me why you're here? If you're here to kill me, you're going to have to try harder than that. The Geo Archon tried and failed to do so.”

Dainsleif continues not to speak. You release Dainsleif's chin with an annoyed sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. It seems like Dainsleif is even more stubborn than you thought. You wanted to laugh in Dainsleif's face. Why is he in the Abyss, kneeling before you with handcuffs? You would understand if the Abyss Lectors and Heralds captured him for roaming around the Abyss. However, the lack of response from the blond man is putting you on edge. 

Dainsleif lets out a shaky sigh. "I'm here to get you out of the Abyss. You becoming the Ruler of the Abyss Order was a mistake that was never meant to happen," Dainsleif says.

You cross your arms over your chest. Yeah, and your appearance in Teyvat was never meant to happen either, but here you are. You walk to your throne and sit, gesturing for Dainsleif to continue on. If Dainsleif continues to blabber on about something you don't care about, then you're going to call it a day and retreat to your bedroom, and the Abyss Lectors can toss Dainsleif in his prison cell. How could you not join the Abyss Order? Plus, why is Dainsleif suddenly backtracking when your first meeting was the opposite? 

You chuckle bitterly and shake your head. "Oh. Dainsleif. You're a bit too late for that. This is where I truly belong— with the Abyss Order as their Ruler. None of this would've happened if none of you treated me that way," you hiss.

You stand abruptly and begin walking off.

Dainsleif stands. "Wait! Don't leave!" Dainsleif hollers.

You turn around and glare at Dainsleif. Your eyes turn pitch black. "Goodbye, Dainsleif. If you, or anyone, continue to get in my way, I will make sure there's nothing left behind on Teyvat."

And with that, you turn around and storm off with Enjou following you. Dainsleif watches you disappear into the darkness, shoulders slumping. Your nails dig into the palm of your hands, drawing blood. How dare Dainsleif march into the Abyss, demanding for you to leave the Abyss Order when he and the others are the reason why you turn to the Abyss Order for help. The Abyss Order is the only group that accepts you and does not hurt you like how the others did. If they want you to leave the Abyss Order so badly, then they can fight you to the death because you refuse to leave. The Abyss Order is where you truly belong.

Note: I feel like this fic falls under the same route as any other SAGAU fics where the rejected creator!reader joins the Abyss Order because they treat the reader better than the Genshin characters. I haven't read fanfics for Genshin in a while, so idk what's trending nowadays for Genshin. Anyway, I am now going to close the voting for Burning Desire voting for Route 3! Thank you for your votes, and we shall wait and see what happens in the third route! I might take a break from writing (like a one-week break), but idk if I'll go through with it 💀 [this part is copied and pasted from my previous fanfic regarding the Discord server] For those who want to join my Discord server, here is the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Please make sure to read the server rules to save yourself from getting in trouble (if you like the server, you can stay, chat, and lurk. If not, you can leave if you don't vibe with it ^^). Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @nightlysunn, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[missmonsters2]

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

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Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

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"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information. 

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant. 

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday. 

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments. 

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her. 

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered. 

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you. 

"You study too much."

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Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday." 

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day. 

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now. 

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time. 

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not. 

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath. 

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead. 

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities. 

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

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"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached. 

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle. 

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet. 

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target. 

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent. 

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged. 

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing. 

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both. 

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive." 

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued. 

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.  

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up. 

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along. 

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side. 

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief. 

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here. 

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you. 

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle. 

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

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Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here. 

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one. 

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you. 

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory. 

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own. 

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion. 

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring. 

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row. 

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth. 

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask. 

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you. 

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals. 

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile. 

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

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The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery." 

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic. 

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot. 

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind. 

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away. 

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying. 

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying. 

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

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Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look. 

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines. 

A lifetime together. 

A lifetime with you. 

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling. 

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag. 

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it. 

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned. 

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer. 

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

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Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why. 

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds. 

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words. 

You don't take the hint. 

"I don't feel that way about you anymore." 

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It was fine—it was. 

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio. 

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to. 

This is fine. 

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best. 

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her. 

It is meant to be this way. 

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now. 

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour. 

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance. 

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago. 

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following. 

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her. 

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next. 

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you. 

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore. 

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday. 

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life. 

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure. 

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello. 

How entirely damning. 

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer. 

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood. 

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission. 

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief. 

None of this is. 

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession. 

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back. 

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person? 

Along with the anger settles in hollowness. 

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them. 

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around. 

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern. 

Wednesday doesn't answer. 

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago. 

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday. 

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry. 

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. 

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging. 

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too. 

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids. 

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder. 

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken. 

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

[its-all-stardust]

Heyy

I’ve always have had a weak spot for sensory deprived matt (like when he looses his hearing). The angst and neediness that may come from it. So maybe for an idea what about a matt x reader…Let’s say the weeks or days that it takes for him to recover and how that affects him and the relationship as he’s not used being the one in need of help and is momentarily no longer Daredevil, as well as all of the complications not hearing may entail.

(Also unrelated but if you could add a cat as a pet just like a little detail it would be fantastic jsjs )

Thanks !

Ask and ye may receive! Sorry this took a month to get out, but I'm bad at prioritizing my hobbies and even worse at editing my fics once I finish writing them (this took like a week and a half to edit because my brain is dumb lasjdfljs)

I really hope you enjoy this fic (and yes I included a cat!!)

And as for the other requests I got, don't worry, they're still handing around. I started writing the next chapter of Sugar and want to finish that up before jumping to the next request!

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Matt refused to let go of you in those first few days. The world didn’t feel right, he said. You made it better, letting him know he was still alive—that you were still alive. He would press his ear to your chest, begging for the sound of your heartbeat.

Matt thought he died after the homemade bomb went off next to his head. Maybe he had finally died in an explosion, no underwater cavern-turned-sewer saving him. Maybe the shrapnel got him. A piece of metal penetrating his suit and making it to his heart or brain.

But no. He was still alive. Everything was just…gone. Or rather, it felt like it was.

He’d experienced it before, the loss of his hearing. This time was different, though. Age or one too many hits to the head, neither of you had figured it out. All you knew was that it had been days, and nothing was as it should have been for Matt.

His hearing wasn’t gone completely, as what happened before, but it was so dulled, to him, it was like he was practically deaf. Touch and smell were still sensitive, but their intensity felt lessened in the face of losing yet another of his senses.

It left the world around him feeling empty.

“I have to go to work, Matty,” you said gently, stroking a hand through his hair.

Matt sighed and held you tighter. He hadn’t even heard your alarm go off. No matter how deeply he slept before, he could always hear the tinny tune of a violin playing through cracking speakers. Now, there was nothing unless he was already on the verge of waking up.

“Can’t you stay?” Matt asked, refusing to remove his weight from your body, still pinning you to the bed.

“It’s been a week,” you explained, regret filling your voice. “I have to go back.”

You stayed with him because he needed you. The bomb—and the fight leading up to the explosion—did enough damage to his body that you wouldn’t have left him alone in the first place. Adding his dulled hearing meant you definitely weren’t going to leave him.

But it had been a week, and Matt’s external injuries were healing well. However, there didn’t seem to be any sign that his hearing would return. As far as you could figure since Matt barely had a basis for comparison—he has had heightened sense for the majority of his life and barely remembers what it was like not being able to hear a heartbeat from across the room—his hearing was like that of a non-enhanced person.

At this point, it could very well be Matt’s new normal.

Both of you agreed that he shouldn’t go to the hospital. Very few things could make Daredevil seek professional treatment, and considering he was still breathing, he wasn’t going anywhere. And if he did go, there would be the trouble of trying to convince a doctor that Matt has hearing loss when he can still hear you speaking at a normal volume across the open spaces of your apartment.

He was also holding out hope that his hearing would return to normal. Temporary hearing loss from loud sounds is well documented. In another week, Matt may very well be back in the suit, counting the number of goons in a warehouse through the walls.

But nothing was certain.

You tried shifting out from under Matt, but he squeezed you and whispered, “Please.”

“You’re not helpless, Matt.” You loved your boyfriend but couldn’t stand letting him mope around the apartment with you for another day, praying something would change. He needed to try. Maybe if you weren’t around, he finally would.

Matt didn’t move for a moment, still lying on top of you. Then, he silently lifted himself off you and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow on his side of the bed.

“Matt?” you called, seeing the tension in his shoulders. You hated seeing him like this.

“Go,” he said, voice flat, almost lifeless. You touched his shoulder, but he flinched at the contact.

You sighed, giving him one last look before climbing out of bed to start getting ready for work.

“I’ll let Foggy and Karen know you know you’re still not feeling well,” you told him just before you left. You had walked back into the bedroom and stood at his side, giving him another chance to speak to you.

Still, he said nothing. In fact, you were sure he was pretending to be asleep.

Regardless, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

With that, you left Matt. Alone.

When he was younger, Matt was used to being alone. As he got older, though, it became a thing of the past. Even if one of his friends wasn’t nearby, there would inevitably be some noise that rose above the din, breaking through the unintelligible cacophony of voices and sounds to remind him that there were always people around.

Now, without you in the apartment for the first time since the explosion, it was as if he was the only person left in the world. 

He was almost afraid to leave the bed. What if he tried stepping out of the room and fell into the void? What if this was a special Hell just for him? The fear was irrational, he knew, but he came close to death so many times now a part of him would always wonder if he truly was still alive.

But then he heard something he couldn’t ignore: the very distinct yowl of a very persistent cat. It was the sound she usually made when begging for food.

You must have forgotten to feed her before you left.

Whatever he thought of himself, of you, then, didn’t matter. Beans, the short-haired calico you and Matt adopted a couple of years ago, let out a particularly annoyed screech from the bedroom doorway, and Matt knew she’d be in his face in a moment if he didn’t follow her wishes.

After filling her bowl, he lay on the couch, not having the energy to go back to the bedroom. A few minutes later, after the crunching of the kibble stopped, Matt’s breath got knocked out of him when Beans launched herself onto his stomach.

Afraid of knocking her off, he held still while Beans walked across his body. She took a place on his pillow, wrapped herself around his head, and started purring.

At least the cat wanted to stay with him.

When you came home, you didn’t know what you’d find. Matt hadn’t answered your call at lunch, though you weren’t surprised, not after what you said and how he reacted.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him sitting on the floor, back against the couch, playing with Beans. He held a plastic stick in his hand, making her chase the bundle of feathers attached to it with an elastic string. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked carefully, stopping next to Matt and interrupting playtime. “You didn’t answer the phone earlier.”

Matt let the toy drop, Beans mauling it immediately. “Fine.”

You waited for more. He knew you were waiting. After a moment of nothing but the sound of Beans dragging the toy out of Matt’s hand and across the floor, you gave up and went to the bedroom to change.

During dinner, the air between you and Matt remained tense.

“I’m pretty sure Foggy and Karen are going to break down the door tomorrow if they don’t hear from you,” you said, trying to prompt Matt into some sort of conversation. This past week, he hadn’t wanted you more than an arm’s length away, needing to feel you, hear your voice. Now, he was doing his best not to acknowledge your existence.

“They won’t need to. I’m going back into the office.” There wasn’t any feeling to his words.

“You are?” you asked, surprised. When you last tried having that talk the other day, he shut you down, saying he couldn’t.

“I’m not helpless,” Matt sneered, throwing your words from this morning back at you and making you flinch. He didn’t notice, though, unable to perceive other people as well as he once did.

You said nothing more, and Matt got up from the table, done with dinner and the conversation.

That night, in bed, he stayed on his side.

“Matt,” you called softly. You reached out to touch his back. “What I said this morning—”

“Forget it,” he said, cutting you off. He didn’t want your apology. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

Maybe you should have tried harder to talk to him, to apologize for hurting him, but you didn’t. Instead, you rolled over so the two of you would be back to back and fell asleep.

Try as he might, Matt couldn’t focus. More than once, Karen or Foggy caught him losing himself in the middle distance. Like the past week, Matt was prone to sitting in silence, unmoving, unthinking, waiting for his hearing to return. While a fine thing to do at home, it caused concern and frustration at the office when his partners were trying to get him up to speed on their cases.

Though not usually one to coddle, Foggy asked if Matt was even ready to return to work.

“Maybe you should go home for the day, and we’ll pick this back up tomorrow,” Foggy said after the fourth attempt to regain Matt’s attention.

Matt gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have t—” Karen started.

“I can do this,” Matt insisted, not letting her finish.

Nothing more was said on the topic, and Matt was able to keep from falling into the void. He didn’t let himself stop, moving from one task to another almost manically. He didn’t even realize the end of the day arrived until Karen touched his shoulder, urging him to go home.

And then Matt was lost again.

It took him longer than usual to get home that day. Not because he lost his way but because he knew when he finally made it home, the whole day would repeat again.

He’d get up, go to work, come home, and still not be able to hear as he should.

Most importantly, he’d have to forgo being Daredevil.

To Matt, this didn’t feel like a natural end to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, making it hard to reconcile that that part of his life was over. There was still so much he had to do, so much he would be capable of doing. If he had the full scope of his abilities.

He wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Hey,” you said when Matt finally walked through the door. You’d been waiting for him, had even left work early on the chance he did too so you could be with him. You didn’t call when he didn’t arrive at his usual time. You weren’t sure he would have answered if you had.

Since then, you’ve been nervously awating his return. With how he took your comment the previous day and his brushing off your attempt to apologize, you weren’t sure what he’d be like today.

“How was work?” you asked when he didn’t respond, trying to sound like it was any other day and that his frigidness didn’t bother you.

“Fine,” Matt sighed, giving no sign of elaborating.

“You wanna help with dinner?” you asked tentatively, unable to parse out his mood and not wanting to answer any potential resentment with a negative response.

Matt nodded, subdued, and moved toward the kitchen, not bothering to change.

You wished you knew how to help him.

As it neared two in the morning, something rustled in the other room. 

Living in New York City, having a cat, and being with Matt made you immune to certain sounds at all hours of the night, but this past week, you seem to have gotten used to certain sounds not coming from inside your apartment.

You knew immediately what it was before you even opened your eyes. You thought nothing of it at first and were tempted to nuzzle deeper into your pillow. It took a moment for recent memory to come back to you, reminding you that you shouldn’t be hearing the sounds of Matt’s suit being dragged out of its hiding place.

“What are you doing?” you asked after stepping out of the bedroom and spying Matt in the dim light from the windows pulling his suit from his father’s old trunk. He jumped, dropping his suit and turning to face you. You’d never been able to sneak up on Matt before.

“I need to go,” Matt said, voice stern.

“And what do you think will happen?” You stepped over to him and crossed your arms.

“I’ll be fine.” He’s told you that multiple times, and you didn’t believe him for a second.

“You didn’t even notice I was behind you. Apparently, you didn’t even hear me get out of bed, and that mattress creaks like nobody’s business.”

Matt clenched his jaw, his fists twitching at his side. “I can do this. I know I can. Maybe if I just—”

“Just what?” you interrupted. “If you just got your head knocked around a couple more times, your hearing would come back?” When he didn’t respond, you assumed that was precisely what he intended to do.

Your heart started to race. You worried about Matt as it was when he was in perfect health. You didn’t want to think about what would happen to him if he went out as a regular man.

“Matt, I can’t let you do that,” you said gently.

“You can,” he argued, fist clenched in the top half of his suit that he still held out in front of him.

Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his, subtly trying to loosen his grip.

“It’s too dangerous.” You shook your head. “Maybe in the future, once you’ve had more time to adapt. But right now? It’s just not a good idea.”

Matt was frozen in place. You waited, the seconds ticking by, wanting to see what he would do.

Then the suit slipped from Matt’s fingers, falling in a heap back into the trunk.

If Matt had been cold to you before, the following few days were worse.

He’d managed to wake before you and practically run from the apartment as soon as he realized you were awake. Matt has never done anything to hurt you. Sure, there were small things here and there, as with most couples, but never something like this. Never something so intentional.

Was he trying to hurt you, or was he just trying to protect himself? Did he think he wouldn’t be reminded of everything that’s changed if he stayed away from you?

Either way, you knew you needed to talk, yet some part of you wanted to wait for Matt to come to you. But Matt was as stubborn as you were, and you didn’t want to lose him more than you already had.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” you asked over dinner, letting some of the hurt you’d been feeling slip through.

For the most part, Matt had avoided saying more than a few words to you. At night, you both were careful to stay on your own sides of the bed.

It was like living with a roommate who didn’t particularly care for you.

“There’s not much to say,” Matt said, focusing intently on his food. “Work wasn’t anything special today.”

He had actually made dinner that night, volunteered for it, in fact. You had hoped that meant he would be more willing to talk to you, sort out whatever it was he felt you were the cause of. 

Apparently, you were wrong.

“Do you blame me for what happened to you?” If he wouldn’t bring it up, that meant you had to.

Matt shook his head. “You weren’t even there.”

“So you’re upset because I stopped you from going out the other night,” you concluded.

“No,” Matt said immediately, but the words lacked any sort of feeling.

“Then what? What is it? Because you’re not acting like the Matt I know.”

He was still. Then, quietly, “Because I’m not.”

He’s not that man anymore, and Matt thought, not for the first time, that you didn’t deserve to be with something as disappointing as him.

You had been talking to Karen and Foggy. Matt didn’t need his enhanced hearing to figure that out. He didn’t know what the three of you talked about, but he knew he was the general topic.

His friends tried harder to get him to go out, make plans, but he always declined, coming up with one excuse or another.

It went on like that for another week. Matt tried to make more of an effort with you and Foggy and Karen, but he still wasn’t his usual self. He wasn’t who he was before and didn’t know if he would ever be again.

He didn’t know what to do at all. He was just going through the motions, and because of that, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when you finally said something.

Matt had been sitting at the kitchen table, the paperwork he wasn’t reading as carefully as he should have been spread across it. Truthfully, Beans was making more use of it as a bed than Matt was after he shooed her off his laptop.

When you walked up to him, Beans immediately awoke, releasing a chirp and standing. She hopped from the table to wind herself between your legs. She had always favored you but had been sticking closer to Matt the past couple of weeks as if sensing his distress.

“Do you want me to leave?” you asked without preamble, and Matt froze. Before, he would have sensed the stuttering of your heart, the nervous shaking in your hands. He would have had a warning before you worked up the courage to say something that would be difficult.

This time, though, he was blind-sided.

“What?” was the only thing he could make come out of his mouth.

Matt didn’t want you to leave. Yes, he was a disappointment to you and knew you needed better. But he loved you, and he was still as selfish as ever.

But…if you no longer loved him, if you wanted to leave…

“No, of course not,” he finally said. He licked his lips, a nervous habit. “But…”

“But what?” you asked sharply.

Were your arms crossed? Or your hands on your hips? Were you running a hand over your face in anger? Frustration? Was your chest tight with fear of what he would say? Matt can still figure out some movements, can still feel the shift in the air, but some things, especially when he’s stressed, are lost to him.

“But I won’t stop you...if you want to leave,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t move; didn’t make a sound. Matt strained his ears, focused entirely on you, trying to pick on anything.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you spit. You stepped toward Matt, and Beans skittered away, her claws scratching on the floor.

“I’m not going to make you stay with me. Now now that I…that I’m like this.”

Will you yell? You never have before, but he’s different now. Maybe you are, too.

“Matt.” His name is an exasperated sigh on your lips. Then your hands are on his face, gently cradling it like he was a precious thing. “You’re not a different person, even though you’re acting like it. And I’m not dating you because of what you could hear.”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m not what I once was. I’m not—” He choked on the words. “I’m not Daredevil.”

It was the first time he said it out loud.

“Just because you’re not Daredevil doesn’t mean you can’t help people. You were a lawyer long before you put on that suit. That doesn’t stop just because you put it away.”

That was true. Matt had been Daredevil for so long that sometimes it was hard for him to think beyond it.

Your hands dropped from his face, and Matt threw a hand out, not wanting you to leave him. His hand landed on your waist and twisted into your shirt to keep you close. He had lied when he said he wouldn’t stop you.

“I’ll tell you now, though,” you started. You didn’t move away, but neither did you touch him. “You can’t keep acting like you have been. You can’t keep shutting me out. Can’t keep shutting Karen and Foggy out. You need to start living again.”

Matt went quiet.

“So, what are you going to do?” you asked after a moment.

“You’re not going to leave?” Matt asked, his voice soft and quiet, almost like he didn’t want you to hear.

You sighed, and Matt’s heart seized until he heard the light, teasing tone of your voice.

“Depends on what your answer is.”

Matt pulled you into him so he could wrap his arms around you. You didn’t object and let him hold you.

You were right.

Matt was pushing everyone and everything away again. He had done it before, and it didn’t work out. His friends wouldn’t let him. He should have known better than to think they would let him slip away.

“I’m sorry I…” He wasn’t sure how to put it. “I’m sorry I stopped trying.” Then he corrected himself. “I’m sorry I gave up.”

Your arms settled around his shoulders. “That I wasn’t there for you enough.”

Matt started to shake his head. He had been acting like the world had ended. Like a child withdrawing from the world when it got too scary. Your words were the push he needed.

“I could have done something better,” you said, already knowing he would try to shoulder all the blame. “You’re allowed to tell me I need to do better. Just like I’m allowed to do the same. You don’t have to do it, but I still get to say it.”

Matt gave a small smile, the tugging on his lips an unfamiliar feeling.

This felt…normal.

“We’ll both do better. Deal?” he asked, a lightness returning to him, missing since the night of the explosion.

“Deal,” you answered and kissed him.

[natalyarose]

𝐸𝓂𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝐸𝓃𝑒𝓇𝑔𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝒩𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 🌼🌞✨🍯

In the world of Vedic astrologers, there is a lot of remark about how in the age of the internet, rapid technological advancements, idols, overstimulation, 'fake news', and trend cycles as fast as lightning, we are living in times very influenced by nodal energy. Or at least, nodal (particularly Rahuvian) aspects of reality are increasingly 'in your face', accessible... If we take the concept of trends to be a very nodal phenomena for instance: throughout most of history, trends were not something you could observe so blatantly the way we do now.

A 'trend' was more likely to last an entire generation, and without the constant access to the past, present and future of the entire world that the internet now provides, you wouldn't even realise it's a trend. One would simply consider it 'normal'. People were not as aware of what the 'elites' are up to, what happens in other countries, mass information leakage etc. you are busy carrying your own burdens, and reaping your own joys, in your own bubble.

In older times, it's as simple as- the life you're born into is the life you focus on & work on UNLESS you are in a position of power (Solar energy) & therefore dealing more with the people at large & distant lands. Even still, your main focus is on your own kingdom/village/tribe. The average person is not going to really know what's going on in faraway places the way we now do. Sure, this nodal, constant consumption element of reality still existed, but it was less 'in your face'.

These days we have our 'black mirrors' (phones, laptops, etc) and they exist as a portal into- anywhere we desire. Lives & realities that don't even necessarily relate to our own. The need to be consciously aware of this is crucial in order to find the balance necessary.

Currently, everything is moving so fast, and there are constant forms of stimulation, movement, illusions and streams of consciousness to get lost in. So many rabbit holes to fall down without you even realising it that will drain & alienate you from your Solar energy.

Getting lost in trends and the lives of other people that in the physical realm, do not directly touch your own life, can be extremely draining to us. In an abstract way, this gives us insight into why it is that so many people feel depressed- lost, like the world is grey... there is constant fog, smoke & mirrors attempting to block our internal Sun, our personal unique destiny & divinity.

Ironically, I tend to think that the reason we're collectively so divided & lonely lately (there's many reasons, but in the way of esoteric takes), is the lack of Solar energy. People talk about how this society is missing the honouring of feminine (Lunar) energy, which is true- but only because of the lack of healthy Solar energy to support it.

I mean, a material manifestation of this is the.. beyond concerning (and somehow, rarely talked about?) statistics on the sperm count dropping. According to various scientific studies, we're looking at roughly a 50% decrease over 50 years... that's just- wow.

Another of many material manifestations of the way true Solar energy is becoming rarer/obscured: lately, the average suburban city is removing structures (Solar) & facilities people usually go to socialise and have fun- bars, clubs, cinemas, skate parks, venues hosting of events & festivals. Yes, the actual social aspect is more of a Lunar energy, but the Solar aspects (ie. the structures, the organised events, the provided food, etc) are the container for that Lunar energy to fall upon. For socialisation, intimacy, raw emotion & connection to exist healthily, we need some kind of structure, some Solar goodness to go off of so we're not just- floating entities in space talking to other floating entities in space about nothing in particular.

Yes, Solar energy speaks of individuality, paving your own path, ego, sense of self- but here's the thing. If we lack sense of self, how can we connect with people? How can we feel unity if there's no 'self' in the first place? How can we connect and share with people if we feel we have nothing to offer and we're all regurgitating the same stuff- there's no reason to talk or connect if everybody seems to be just.. lacking substance, robotic, or a void

Solar energy is our ego, our happiness, our light. It represents that substance. Someone speaking from a place of Solar light is tapping into a place of authenticity & experience, whereas when we are lost in nodal energies; we are moreso becoming a conduit for other people's ideas and thoughts we've heard about, forgetting our own footing in reality.

I feel like- no, I've seen- time and time again how this current society can delude us into believing that the way to leave your mark on the world & make the world a better place, is to get lost in others. To always be in the know, informed and on trend when it comes to everything outside of yourself. It feels like we are being taught that if we aren't carrying the weight of the whooole world on our shoulders, we are selfish or living under a rock.

On the one hand, it is definitely important that we have some sort of a spiritual awareness of what's going on in the lives of others (be it friends, relatives, or people in other countries) but on the other hand, this constant focus on other people takes away from you having the chance to make a true difference and BE a beacon of light.

Sometimes I see something dark on the news, very dark.. I'm in tears, I'm anxious, I'm asking the heavens why these things happen... how is it fair? I'm praying, I'm sucked in and can't look away from what I'm seeing because it feels like I have a duty to at least witness the suffering if others have to go through it. There have been times it's just debilitated me; until I realised something-

I am worth more to the world, the people suffering included, by focusing on fostering beauty, joy & goodness in my own life. I'm not helping the world by crying in my bed unable to feed or take care of myself because I'm distraught about something I saw on my phone. It's only impairing my ability to remain in a high vibrational state that I can create & share with the world from. People who truly make a difference are often the ones who either innately embody or have cultivated a very Solar nature- 'water off a ducks back'. It shouldn't be about ignoring or suppressing emotions, so much as using emotion wisely.

This doesn't mean it is best to completely ignore the world or be cold or 'heartless', but moreso that you need to be holding a torch for yourself in order to even begin to light the way for others. Those who are suffering generally do not want others to suffer for them (especially if they can't physically do anything to help)- that only creates... more suffering. I know in times of my own suffering, not once did I think 'damn, I wish someone was as sad and destitute as me' lol

I thought 'man, I really would love to be around people & circumstances that are positive, uplifting & nourishing so that I can feel that warmth again'.

If every single person in the world was utterly debilitated and absorbed in other realities, other people's lives, neglecting their own 'karma' & their own blessings, who would be there for people to look to for hope? Who would be the blueprint for what happiness actually looks like? In a world without strong, solar entities, who can those who are suffering look up to to imagine a better life?

Fill your own cup first!

Sometimes the best thing you can do for the world, is to manifest your own beautiful, magical, pure life- whatever that means for YOU. Build your own foundation so that you can be an inspiration & comfort for those who need it, while being stable and strong within your own being.

A lighthouse doesn't go out to sea and get into the storm with the ships. It doesn't go chasing the ships down to save them. It simply stays where it is, strong, radiating light and indiscriminate- unconcerned with who 'gets' the light. Trusting that the universe is working its magic and the right people are benefiting from your radiance. That is what staying true to yourself & your own unique destiny looks like.

I see too many people (myself included, but working on it..) with bleeding hearts. Completely lost and overwhelmed by the struggles, thoughts, opinions, beliefs & chaos of others, feeling as though they can't just sit and watch, they have to do something about it. Or if they can't do something about it, they have to at least feel it, delve into all that emotion. Instead of being the lighthouse and realising that nurturing yourself = raising the vibration of the world, which = one more person living in truth & happiness for others to look up to- they are missing that opportunity and becoming drained/psychologically in pain.

Do what makes you happy. It's so simple, yet so.. not! It's a skill, and it takes discipline & sometimes what feels like active rebellion in order to refrain from abandoning yourself and getting lost in something or someone else; whether that thing is positive or negative... 🌸

Very long story short - the most helpful gift you can give to the world, is your joy & faith in your own destiny.

To anyone who read all this, have a beautiful day and if you can, go do something fun lol, or create something ♡

note: I just want to make sure it's clear that I'm not saying nodes = bad & Sun = good or anything like that! Every planet, every celestial force plays an important role in life on Earth and the nodes have their own magic too. This post is just talking about the importance of staying in touch with your Solar light rather than getting completely and utterly lost in the pull of the nodes. I also want to add that of course sometimes there are unique occasions, where plunging into the darkness with somebody else is exactly what you need to do- but if that's the case, that'll be a part of your 'destiny', so even still you will be embodying your light if that makes sense. Never abandon your light.

[drinker-of-paint]

those docs are sick as hell. did you use posca markers? comma also anything to seal the design on?

So I'm not an expert by any means but I'm happy to share my research

Also I wore them out and about on a misty rain day today and they seem to have held up but only time will tell

So from the research I did custom designs like this work best on certain types of docs (it said 'smooth leather' was best, and there was one that it absolutely doesn't work on so deffo look that up to be sure not to ruin your docs if you already have a pair you're thinking of decorating) I'm not really sure if mine count as smooth leather cause they're kind of matte and they might have been talking about a specific type but anyway- that's something to keep in mind.

Next said to prep the area you're painting. There's a few things you can use but i ended up just wiping some nail Polish remover (in place of rubbing alcahol) over the area with a cloth and leaving it to dry for a minute (don't go overboard with it though- you want to find the happy medium of taking off some of the oils so the paint can bond with the surface but not so much that you leave the area looking damaged or drying out the leather too much, that can cause long term damage)

I played with some designs and placement of the different eye sizes in my sketchbook before I was ready to brave putting paint on these brand new doc martens 😂

May have been a me thing but I do recommend it so you're as confident as possible with what you want to do every time you put the pen down. Depending on the type of fabric you can use tissue or a cotton swab with more rubbing alcohol to correct mistakes with posca but I couldn't find anything that worked for mine so I was just really careful.

Next unless you're really brave it's probably a good idea to use a soft pencil to draw the pattern to trace, then when you're ready to put posca on it (I used the type with the pointy plastic nib- makes it much easier to get sharp points) just really take your time with it

if you're adhd like me and feel burnt out after doing one side definitely take a break and come back to it when you're zoned into it again because when you're out of steam is when you'll start making mistakes and rushing things 😂

When you're all done and happy, and you're sure it doesn't need another layer for full vibrancy, (though fewer layers is preferable) posca dries really quick but just to be completely sure I let them sit for like half an hour.

Now I should preface this by saying i couldn't find literally anything about sealing posca on your docs online, most I could find were people saying just be sure to prep the leather and it'll be fine, but idk I live in England it's wet as fuck here I don't know if I trust that.

I did find one thing from posca saying you can use water based varnish to seal it on leather but idk if that was really talking about shoes? I don't have any varnish but I'm probably going to get some just to be safe.

I DID though use a layer of some of my sisters hairspray, because it was literally all I had to hand, which at least to me did seem like it made it more sturdy when I ran a fingernail over it but I don't know if I trust getting them too wet with only the protection of hairspray

Anyway this was a super long response overexplaining more than you actually asked 😅

but i thought this might be helpful to put out there for others who are trying it for the first time because I couldn't actually find anywhere that had clear instructions in one place, hope it helped 😂

[everydayyoulovemeless]

sequel to that no nut november post where instead it's destroy dick december?😭

FNV Companions (+Yes Man, Victor, and Benny) Responses to Destroy Dick December

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic ➼ A/N » what a title

Boone outright refuses. He knows he's not gonna be successful and decides he's not even going to try. He's not even supportive about it. Anytime he sees you walk toward the bathroom he'll look at you with disgust and tell you to be smart about what you're gonna do because you both have to hit the road again soon, whether you're tired or not. 0/10, he's an awful partner to do this challenge with, don't even bother asking.

"Does it feel good anymore?"

Arcade will run stressed hands down his face. He made it all the way through November only for you to bring up something he finds to be way harder than the last. He'll try, but he's not making it anywhere past the tenth day. He likes being overstimulated, but damn. 3/10, he tries but doesn't quite have the stamina to pull it off.

"uh uh, I'm done, I have things I need to do around Freeside."

Raul hits you with that 1000-mile stare. Have you seen how decrepit he is? He has a difficult trying to get his thing up as it is, and you want to see him cum 31 times in one day? No, thank you. 2/10, he does actually try because he's curious about how far he can take himself, but it's nothing to write home about. He'll make it to day 3 if he's lucky.

"I'm over 200, boss... I don't think I can."

Cass is a champion at this. She can cum 31 times a day any day of the week. The biggest problem with her is that she makes sure to include you. You're knees are going to be weak and wobbly by the end of the month, it's her only goal since she passes the challenge with ease every year. 11/10, it's her favorite month by far.

"C'mon~ You can last longer than that!"

Veronica's quite determined to pass, even if she knows she's going to struggle once she hits the double digits. She'll try to mix all sorts of new things into your sex life to try and keep the challenge fresh and interesting. She'll find all sorts of sex toys and new positions to try in an attempt to keep you both at it for longer. 7/10, she makes it to day 15, but at least she's creative.

"Hear me out... I got us working vibrators!"

Yes Man makes it his life's mission to ensure you make it through the month. He'll lock you away in the Lucky 38 and personally make sure you get to the correct number every day. The day you told him you were interested in doing it was the day he pledged to himself that he'd actually get you through this challenge. He didn't do as well last month, but he'll make sure this time is different. He'll even tie you to the bed if he has to. 10/10, not only are you passing, but he will too!

"Aww, quite squirming! We've almost hit the number for today!"

Victor just shrugs and tells you that he thinks it'd be fun. He's not the horniest person alive, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't have stamina. He's fairly competitive and would like to win the challenge with you, but it relies heavily on how far you're willing to take it. 5/10, he could go for however long, but he'll stop going at it when you do.

"How're you holdin' up? Wanna go another round?"

Benny was really on board with it until the sixth day when he realized how exhausting this actually is. He's an old man, he's not built for this. But he wants to keep that pimp-like persona going for as long as he can. He'll be whimpering most nights from the overstimulation but he doesn't give up unless you specifically ask him about it. 8/10, he plays a very convincing performance, but how long can he push it?

"Sure, baby! We can go... again..."

[dazed--xx]

🦋Paper Hearts🦋

Summary: Pictures I'm living through for now, Trying to remember all the good times. Our life was cutting through so loud; Memories are playing in my dull mind. I hate this part, paper hearts And I'll hold a piece of yours; Don't think I would just forget about it……Hoping that you won't forget about it

Member: Seungmin x Reader

T/W: Break Ups, arguments crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, yelling, sad ending, slight shoving nothing too crazy, some emotional manipulation, problem avoidance, denial, (subtle mention to woojin via blacked out photo he existed people he was in the group once)

Word Count: 2.3K

Remember the way you made me feel, Such young love but Something in me knew that it was real; Frozen in my head….

You stared at the ground, the room felt smaller as Seungmin glared at you. “You think you're so perfect? You're overbearing. You nag me at all hours of the day and I can't stans it anymore” He growls harshly. You felt minuscule under his gaze. “All I was saying was you could prioritize our relationship a little bit more, Min…I can't wait around for you forever…” you state breathlessly. Tears threatened to fall as your eyes remained on your lap. “You're being selfish, Y/N if you can't handle that I'm busy then maybe this relationship is too much for you….” He threatens with a scowl. “You're right” you let out breathlessly as you nod in agreement, throwing him off guard. He hadn't expected you to agree, he stares at you in utter shock and disbelief. He struggles to find something to say, he watches in horror as you lift yourself from your spot on the couch and make your way to the door.

“W-Wait..” his call is cut off by the sound of the door closing behind you. He sighs breathlessly as everything replays in his mind. His heart cracks at the harsh words he had spit at you replaying in his mind. This can't be happening….He couldn't just let this happen.…he rushes out of the door after you. His legs move quickly as he sees the elevator door closing behind you, he slams his finger on the elevator button rapidly. His hand shakes at his side as tears build in his eyes. Once the second elevators door opens he's greeted with a bright eyed Felix and Jeongin with their manager stood behind them.

“Hey, sorry we have a schedule come up. You can't go anywhere…” Felix states patting his shoulder. Seungmins heart fell into his gut. “N-No, I-I'll be fast. I need to go…” He stammered trying to go around them to get on the elevator. Their manager stands in front of of him with his arms crossed “Unless it will be less than 5 minutes, I can't let you go. We have to leave for Japan in 45 minutes…so go pack.” He states firmly. Seungmin tries once again to get into the elevator but relents when he see that their manager will not budge. He stomps to his room and tries to call you. Dammit….he thinks to himself when the call goes unanswered. He texts you hoping you will reply and things would be okay.

As you walked home, you allowed the tears to stream down your cheeks. It's over….you think in disbelief. These past 5 years turned to nothing in a matter of minutes. You felt so stupid for caring. Seungmin had changed, he grew and realized who he truly was and you didn't fit in anymore. While you still saw each other every day, you rarely ever stopped fighting; Either due to your ‘nagging’ or his tirades. You remembered when things were different. When Seungmin seemed to love you unconditionally. You're pulled out of your thoughts by your phone's ringtone. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you're greeted with Seungmins contact with a sigh; you press the decking button.

You unlock your door and trudge your way through your apartment. The darkness oddly comforting as you make your way to your bedroom and lay on your bed. You sob as you release all your pent up anger and hurt. Your body trembles as you drift off to a restless slumber.

Pictures I'm living through for now, trying to remember all the good times…Our life was cutting through so loud; Memories are playing in my dull mind. I hate this part, paper hearts and I'll hold a piece of yours….Don't think I would just forget about it; Hoping that you won't forget about it….

You had realized your relationship with Seungmin had ended long before your argument with him the other day. It was when you both had first begun to hit a snag in your relationship. You both still loved each other but, it was clear you no longer could see eye to eye. Everything you did seemed to annoy Seungmin. And his lack of time and busy schedule began to affect you more and more as Stray Kids’ popularity grew. So, while Seungmin was in Japan; you decided to pack up the memories of your time with Seungmon and return them to his dorm. Trying to make this break up as clean as possible.

So here you sat, on the ground as you stared at the photos that mocked you. Your heart shattered on the floor as the memories sat in front of you, replayed in your mind. Picking one picture up, you give yourself a sad smile as a younger version of you and your ex smiled back at you. His members littering the frame The day you guys had made things official.

Stray kids had just debuted and had a small album release party. You sat sandwiched between the clubs couch cushion and Seungmin. A blush decorated your cheeks as Seungmin placed a soft kiss on your cheek. A shy smile forming on your lips as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “Smile!” a staff member exclaimed excitedly as Jisung jumped on the back of the couch and Felix laid across you and Seungmin’s laps. Chan sat on the opposite side of Seungmin with his arms pinning Hyunjin to Minho in a big hug. Jeongin sat on the floor with a blacked out faced person beside him. As a flash blinded you for a moment.

You sighed wiping your tears as you place the picture in the box as you lift another one. Your fingers trace over the photo outlining your beaming boyfriend as he, Jeongin and you were celebrating their first win.

“I never thought a simple hunk of metal would cause so much chaos” Jeongin joked as he stared at the trophy. Seungmin sniffled as he snatches the trophy from the maknae. “We practically died for this…” Seungmin states with astonishment. You beamed at the pair proudly. “I can't believe I saw Minho-oppa cry.” you joke, Seungmin chuckles “he cried when Jyp kicked him out of the group.” you rolled your eyes with a giggle “If I recall correctly you broke down in tears and needed a moment when he was eliminated.” you counter “but that was on t.v for me this was in person!” you stare at the trophy. A large M on the small head of the little statue. “I mean you guys deserved this anyway, Miroh is a good song. And Stay have been fighting for this” You state matter of factly. The boys nod proudly. “Ugh I need a picture” Jeongin groans as he pulls his phone out. Seungmin holds the trophy up with a surprised look as you pose with a peace sign and a smile.

Your thoughts are cut off by an influx of calls and messages on your phone. You place the rest of the photos in the box as you go to check your notifications. You see the flurry of missed calls and texts from Seungmin. You wince as you delete them, still not being able to find it in yourself to block him. Though you would never admit it to anyone, you kept up with Seungmin’s activities. You have seen the photos and videos of him from Japan. As proud and happy as you were for Seungmin, it hurt. It hurt to see him completely fine despite your last conversation.

Though he constantly called and texted you, the last time you had checked them; you were utterly disappointed with the contents. They were overly nonchalant, never once addressing your argument nor the subsequent breakup. He acted like nothing ever happened, which infuriated you. He was completely unaffected, riding the wave of stardom. So, you stopped reading them, you refused to listen to his cheerful voicemails and completely went silent as he spent his time in Japan. Finishing packing his things you close the box and place it in your car. Once you reach the dorms you leave the box with one of the managers that stayed behind to keep an eye on the dorm. You felt a heavy sting in your heart as you drive home.

Everything is gray under these skies, wet mascara. Hiding every cloud under a smile; When there's cameras. and I just can't reach out to tell you. That I always wonder what you're up to….

Seungmin’s hands shake as he tries to call you again. These past few weeks have been agony. He was able to fake a smile when with the fans or on stage but, as he sat in his hotel room all he could do was break down in tears and sobs. You hadn't spoken to him in weeks….All he could look forward to was being able to finally see you again. He'd do anything to fix this, he'd never gone this long without one of your calls or texts while he was on a tour. It made him nauseous, he couldn't handle the memory of your last conversation so, he ignored it. He knows your relationship was stronger than being able to be destroyed by a few select words he didn't mean.

Even as time went on and his calls and texts remained unanswered, he felt in his heart that once he was able to see you everything would fall back into place. He just needed to get through this flight and he'd be with you again. He'd hear your beautiful voice and see your bright smile shining at him again and things would be perfect again.

Seungmin felt butterflies in his stomach as he made his way through Incheon International. He felt an excited buzz through his body as he sat in the van making his way to the dorm. Everyone stretches and drops their bags in their rooms as they all rush to get some much-needed rest. Seungmin halts as he notices an unfamiliar box seated on his bed. He stares at it with confusion as he pulls it open. His legs felt numb as he examined the contents. His heart cracking with every gifts and picture he had pulled out of the box, clothes you've accumulated of his over the past 5 years. No…This isn't happening…He thinks to himself as he shakes his head. He calls you in a panic. Your phone goes straight to voicemail, desperation fills him as he quickly rushes out of the dorm.

I live through pictures as if I was right there by your side. But you'll be good without me and if I could just give it some time…..I'll be alright

You were sitting on your couch watching the finale of ‘My Demon’ as you heard rapid knocks at your door. Pausing the show, you stare at your door confused making your way over. Staring through the peephole you see Seungmin standing there. Opening the door slightly with a heavy sight and roll of your eyes; you stare at him through the gap. “Can I help you, sir?” you question sarcastically. “Y/N…” Seungmin breathes out with relief as his eyes scan your face. He tries to shove the door open more, trying to get a better view of you. His heart cracking slightly when it doesn't budge. “Why are you here, Seungmin?” you question, your eyes focused on the ground. “I-I wanted to see you…” He trails “W-Why is there a box of my stuff in my room? Y/N, what's going on? Why won't you let me in?” he asks in denial. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he tries to open the door again.

“Because…” you respond stoically “Seungmin, we aren't together anymore.” you fight back tears as you speak. Seungmin stares at you in disbelief. “N-No…come on. Let's just talk about this….” he pleads. You shake your head in response.

“Y/N, please….” his voice is small and pleading as he shoves on the door as hard as he can, forcing it open. His hands encase your face as he tries to get you to look at him. “Seungmin…” you sigh, your eyes focused on the ground. You hear a cry erupt from his throat, “No! Please…just—just look at me, please” he begs as he places his forehead on yours. “I love you. Please don't break up with me…I'm sorry…”

“Min, don't lie to yourself…”

He stares at you in horror as you continue to refuse to meet his eyes “I'm not…”

“You are…you don't love me. You're just used to me…but you're annoyed with my presence”

“Baby, no…” his voice is just above a whisper “I swear I love you. I love you more than anything. I don't want to lose you” He cries wrapping his arms around your waist as you continue to stare at the ground. “Look at me please!” he urges. Your eyes finally meet his and god, does Seungmin wish they hadn't. Your gaze is filled with heartbreak and disappointment. He took a step back for a moment letting his arms fall to his sides as you stared daggers at him. “Leave Seungmin….now,” you demand. He shakes his head taking hold of your hand. “Please don't make me…I'm sorry for what I said that day. Please, I didn't mean it…i can prioritize our relationship. I'll do whatever you want! Please stay with me…” He pleads with tear filled eyes. His nose a bright red.

You shake your head in response “I can't…”

“Please, I love you…you’re everything to me. D-Don’t do this…”

You close your eyes as you slowly shove Seungmin out of your apartment. Ignoring his pleas as he grips your hand tightly. “Please…baby please” He cries one more time as he's finally outside. You shake your head “I'm sorry, Min. I love you, I do but I need to love myself again…everything was too much and I just can't handle it. Please leave…I won't be changing my mind. It's over Seungmin…” you state sadly as you close the door.

Goodbye love, you flew right by love

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Taglist: @yangbbokari @havenwithleeknow