#but my memory is really bad and i have barely existed until this very moment idk anything

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

to add on to the “things that i really should probably see a doctor for” list, today i randomly couldn’t breathe and was coughing (which made me know it wasn’t anxiety bc ive never coughed before + it just Felt different) for like 2 mins which isn’t a lot but it felt like i was actively gonna keel over right then and there

[vanya-evergreen]

How to remember.(Chapter 1)

Masterlist

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Relationship: BatFam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite schoo, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw: brief description of gore

No use of Y/n

Wc: 5k+

A/n- Woo first post! Exciting but so nerve racking, honestly have never posted my fanfic before. So, sorry if its kinda rough, had no one to beta, bare with me please. The characters are probably OOC, since I only recently got back into DC after seeing the "do the butts match post?" from the ai voice reddit post on tik tok. But you what that's more fun anyways, right? anyway please enjoy a really really random idea

Tick tick tick tick

The room was quiet, with only a few scribbles of pens or pencils to fill the void. You resided at your desk, hunched over, while resting your face on your hand. Your eyes lazily review the assignment in front of you for the 7th time. You had finished the assignments for the day, with each answer being correct that  left you with only your thoughts. Your eye twitched, turning your head slowly toward the window, while slowly moving your head from your hand to the desk. You went through your day just to try and remember, waking up, first 2 classes, all fine. Until, on your way to your current period, you ran into a younger student, probably a sophomore, maybe a junior. 

You cringed silently, you were just in your mind, really your memories from both this world and your original world. When you ran into a younger student, you both fell and could only manage a quick sorry before moving on. He was barely getting to his feet when you turned away, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn’t even offer a proper apology, let alone your hand. You can't help but think back to the faint whisper you heard as you walked away. You made a mental note to find and properly apologize to him during lunch, if you could remember what he looked like, seeing as you only really saw his keychains on his backpack as they jingled when he got up.

Your head started throbbing as you thought too much, you shut your eyes tightly, wiping your mind clean, then opening them again .You stared out the window, trying not to think much, just trying to learn to just exist. Why is existing one of the hardest things to learn? You watch the clouds clash into each other slowly creating an ocean of a scale of whites and grays. You slowly let your mind blank, even just for a moment, it was nice. 

You could slowly feel your drifting off, almost like you were disconnecting from your physical body. Until the sound of mindless chatter started up in the back of the room, pencils still wrote, notably faster than before. This means the period was almost up, so that means lunch and trying to find that one guy. You sat up, collected the assignments from your desk, then got up and turned them in. You got back to your seat right as the bell rang. 

You picked up your stuff and got out of there as quickly as you could, just to round the corner to be surprised by an underclassman. He had green eyes that made very uncomfortable eye contact with yours. You almost immediately looked away from his very intense glare. You side eye him and see his bag. The keychains. 

“Shit” you let out under your breath as you released your present problem. Your eye drifted back to his face, he didn't look all that happy to see you. ‘definitely him’. “Hey man, listen…” you started. You felt genuinely bad about earlier, you could only imagine how big of an asshole it made you seem like.

“Who are you?” his tone was blunt, with a twinge of annoyance. 

Your mind stalled, that's not what you expected him to say. You thought he would threaten you or maybe pull the ‘do you know who i am card?’ or ‘I am going to ruin your life’. You felt the hostility he emulated, you felt uneasy. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. The almost seemingly endless stream of words in your mind were stuck in your throat. “ ___ ___” you choked out with your last bit of brain cells.

“ Where are you from?” His voice shot straight through you. He gave you no time to collect your thoughts from the initial question. Your mind was scattered from how fast questions came at you. The unease in your stomach grew. 

“Uh, gotham, like everyone here.” Confusion clouded your already foggy mind , ‘what did this have to do with me running into him earlier?’ “ I am sorry about earlier by the way.” you added quickly with a sorrowful expression, the cloudiness didn’t consume your intention to apologize.

“Gotha, hm, how come I have never seen any event?” he ignored your apology. ‘Okay, that's rude.’ You tried to grasp at whatever you could to respond.

“What events?” was all you could get. You felt like you were going to faint from the speed of his questions. Why did he care so much about what you did, you were just a stranger to him. 

“Galas, business meetings…” he listed off different types of high end events, but you didn’t really listen after the first two. Your head was spinning, you had to try and collect the scattered pieces of your mind. 

You rushed your recovery, you went from being up in your head for the last 20 minutes to being pulled down, through the earth’s crust, into a cave being interrogated by someone you have never talked to before this. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’

“I am sorry, but who are you?” You interrupted him midway through his next question, ‘that was a great idea’. “Am I meant to know you or something?” Ah yes, your most infamous line. You put your hand on your forehead, trying to rationalize this interaction. His mouth was open, he looked almost offended by your question.

“you’re joking?” he exclaimed agitated, he creased his eyebrows. You had to get out of there.

“No.“ You turn your head to the side, throwing your hands up in the air while turning your upper body away.

“ Well okay then, have you ever heard of the Waynes?” You do remember hearing about Wayne enterprise last time you went to the doctors, like when you first woke up in this world, which was like, 6 years ago, maybe. That doesn’t really matter. You had heard of it.

 “The company?” you questioned. He groaned, if in relief or annoyance, that was beyond you. 

“Yes, but what have you heard about the Wayne family?” he looked you square in the eyes, you turned away slowly not really saying anything. You looked guilty. “Nothing?” you nodded assuring his previous statement. Still not meeting his eye, not wanting to deal with that memory for the rest of the day. “How?”

“I don’t read the gossip columns?” You suggested with an awkward shrug and chuckle. You only now realized that there was a wall of students formed around you and him. You definitely had to get out there now.

“What? What do you mean” he was really pissed now, but you didn't even hear half of what he was saying you were just trying to find the quickest way out of here. You looked around looking for an opening within the students. You noticed one right behind him so you had to be quick about it.

“Listen, I am so sorry about being early, I didn't mean to make you fall, really.” you seemed less sincere than before, you were trying to make sure that you didn't seem rushed. “I really didn’t and if it had been any other time I would have made sure that I had offered my hand but I just wasn’t entirely aware. I am sorry, again.” You had made your way around him away around him as you talked, you maintained eye contact with him until you were able to slip in between the students. “Please forgive me, and I am sorry I couldn't answer your question adequately.”

 “Wait-” you heard him shout as you speed walked away, trying to blend in with a group of students that were walking down the hallway. He, of course, saw you slip into the group and approached you. You had to think quickly, thankfully there was another group of students that was going the opposite way. You quickly slipped into another group, successfully avoiding him. You could only finally breathe when you made it to the dining hall without running into him again. 

You went into the lunch line, trying to just forget whatever the hell that was. You moved through the line slowly, grabbing whatever looked appetizing today. One of the many good things about going to a rich school was that the food was edible. You were grabbing the last bit of your lunch before you felt a cold air run up your spine, you said a silent prayer in hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. You tried not to look, Maybe if you didn’t look he would leave. You remained calm and walked with your food to the table where you sat with your friends, making sure to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You were able to sit down and eat most of your lunch before you felt him approach your table, you could feel a cold sweat develop on your shoulders as you took your last couple of bites.

He gradually approached, carefully looking over everyone trying to figure where you were. Your friends were having a typical conversation, what they were doing that night or where they are going to college and what they are going to study. Until one of them saw him approach. “Is that Damian Wayne approaching us, right now?” that when you realized why he was having a hard time with you early, you couldn’t recognize him or his family, but your friends, who never cared for status and the tabloid’s talk recognized him, or Damian now that you had a name to the face. You straightened up when you heard this. 

Your friends looked at you strangely until they realized you were the one he was looking for, and you did not want to be found. They acted quickly. They, as naturally as possible, started to clean up. Throwing away trash, and putting away their food. They even helped you pack up, and as a group you slipped out of the dining hall into a hallway, then out into the courtyard. You would have to thank them later with some homemade baked goods. They really came to your rescue today.

You looked at your phone, 12:45. Lunch was almost over, never would have you thought that you would be grateful for that. ‘Only 5 more minutes’. Your relief was somewhat short lived as you had to now answer their question. “So, what happened?” one of them, Leah, asked flatly.

“Well you see…” You started not really wanting to talk. You looked around trying to procrastinate this conversation.

“Stop putting this off” Another one, Warren, jabbed you in your side with a pencil causing you to flinch.

“Fine…” you sighed feeling defeated, ” So, today I may have, made him fall, but I also fell.” you signed as you talked. you looked down and then back up at Wynn hoping for their pity only to be met with a vaguely threatening look to continue. “And after 3rd period he was waiting for me in the hallway and he asked who I was. I told him my name and then asked who he was because he was asking me a lot of questions.”You smiled with fear behind your eyes. They looked at you mouth agape, no one could be as out of tune with the news as you are.

‘What the hell? Did you even apologize??’ Wynn signed, they were not happy with you.

“ The fuck you mean you didn’t know him?” Leah exclaimed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you very violently, making you feel sick. You knew you fucked up bad when Warren did have anything to say. 

“Wynn, I did apologize!! Like 3 times too, and I am sorry I am too busy thinking of other things!” You continued to sign as you talked, trying to defend yourself. Warren and Leah were lecturing you about how stupid your actions were and Wynn was just shaking their head. You started to tune them out when you saw the door open and of course Damian came outside. You quickly got up and picked up your stuff.

“We need to finish our-” he started before being interrupted by the bell ring. Much to your luck.

“Hey, well see you guys later, I need to get to class” you waved goodbye to your friend and signed ‘please don't kill me’ to Wynn, before you ran past Damian to your 4th class, They all exchanged looks with each other before you friends quickly walked away to their own classes. You made it to your 4th period without much trouble, besides a few stares the class went perfectly, boring but fine. The next 2 classes were a mix and repeat of your 4th period, only with increasing whispers every time you walked in a class.

 It was finally your 8th class, study hall, you were able to get to your normal spot without much trouble. You were even able to put in your headphones and start working on a rough draft to a machine that you were designing. You sat most of the day up until this point, so your arms always felt stiff. So you stretched your arms, only to hit something. Quickly retracting your arms back to your side, you turned around. ‘FUUUUUU-’ It was Damian. “Heyyyy.” you slowly turned back to your computer in front of you, taking off your headphones.

“Are you gonna avoid me again?” He was looming over you, you could feel the burning on top of your head from the way he glared at you. You shut your laptop and braced yourself for all the questions he was going to ask. 

“No.” You shook your head, he sat down across from you. You looked anywhere but at him.

“The events, why have I never seen you?” He went straight to it.

“I don't think I am famous enough to go.” You shrugged, he raised an eyebrow at you suggesting that you were lying. You were ticked off by this. “ Listen, If I have gotten an invite, I have never seen it.” You folded your arms. 

“ How did you get into this school?” You didn't really have a clear answer to this one, “I have heard about how you could never recognize people who are from well known families in Gotham, and some that were even famous by themselves.”

“A trust fund.” That was your typical go to answer, but in all honesty you didn't know. While you had some memories, a very limited amount, of this body's life, they were almost all blurry. None of them were really clear, but you could feel what they, the other you, were feeling. You could make really rough assumptions. Like you knew you had a mother (or a female figure) that you loved, and somewhere along the way she got remarried and you had step-parent up until she died. You could feel the way the memories would cause a physical reaction so you tried not to think about it too much. “And I just have never really had the mental space to pay attention to that, plus faces and names aren’t my thing.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answers “So what? You just don't know anything about the world?”

“No, of course I pay attention to the crimes in Gotham, and the people that handle them.” This wasn’t a lie, you did pay attention to that, you even knew their names, a big honor to have, in your mind at least. You were a huge fan of them, even before- you know. 

“Hm.” He slouched as he contemplated your answers, while resting his hands intertwined together maintaining eye contact with you. There was silence between you two, it was too long. You restlessly tapped your fingers on the table while resting your head on the other hand, watching him. Waiting for whatever comes next of his seeming never ended questions, but he seemed to be stumped.

“Is that it?” You broke the silence “You have everything you need to know. Right?” You straighten your back, now sitting up right. He only continued to stare. Internally you rolled your eyes before you put one of your headphones on. 

You opened your laptop, quickly glancing over the blueprint for the machine. You were getting bored of this. you looked blankly at your computer screen. ‘I wonder what I can find about Damian's family.’  What a dangerous thought to have. You, with a renewed vigor, quickly opened a new search window and started simple. ‘Wayne family’ you were overwhelmed with the number of results. 2 billion. 2 billion. You understood why Damian was so shocked now. That was just for the family too; you count the profiles, 9. 

First, you clicked on ‘Thomas Wayne’, you were somewhat familiar with the name. You read about the tragedy of how he died, you knew this story, you watched a true crime video on it a couple of years back. You felt it was only appropriate to make your way down the family tree so you clicked on ‘Bruce Wayne’. Of course you could assume he was Damian's father. There were links to articles about some scandal of his or how his business was doing. You read a bit further only to find out that the man adopted a lot. Like, you had wondered how he had 6 children but guess that was your answer. You were about to click on Damian's profile only to stop.

“What exactly are you doing?” So he didn’t lose his vocal cords. You snapped out of your trance by his voice.you realized how funky what you just did was.You felt a bit like a creep now, searching up his family in front of him was not the best idea.

You coughed clearing your throat “Why do you care?” You tried to keep an even voice. 

“You were staring so intently at your computer that it almost looked like you were planning something.” He leaned back with his arms folded. 

“Well,” You closed your search tab later, planning on continuing to research (basically stalk) them later. “I am working on a machine.” You ignored the underlying implication that you were possibly evil. You pulled up the blue prints and math for the machine and turned it around to show him. 

“What does it do?” His glare intensified.

“It’s meant to be a multi-dimensional portal, of sorts.” This was the truth. “It's more of a concept than anything.” This was a lie. “I have to make this for my engineering class, we have an assignment where we make up a theoretical invention and try to come up with a way to make them real” Another truth.

“Interesting,” he became more vigilant, yet interested because of  your words. “And have you figured it out?” 

“No, and if I did it probably wouldn’t work,” much to your dismay. “This assignment is more about how well we can explain our logic than the actual realism of it.”

“Oh,” You couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. “Well you must enjoy the class if you are putting this much work into it.”

“Yep ,” you said through slightly gritted teeth. You didn’t mind the class, in fact you would’ve loved it, if you were still in your original word. “I guess.” You smiled tightly, turning your laptop back around. “So what about you? Do you have a favorite class?” Your smile shifted from tight and sharp to curved and soft, this was classic. You did this when you were trying to shift the attention away from something you didn’t want to discuss. You could almost see him relax, ever so slightly, but still he’s coming around. Maybe.

“Art” his arms were still folded, but his eyes didn’t seem so analytical or hostile. While it wasn’t a lot it was better than what you had gotten out of him from most of the conversation. 

“Really, would you be willing to show me some of your pieces?” you asked ever so politely. 

“Why would I show you?” And there is the defensiveness.

“Because I showed you my blueprints.” your smile faltered for a moment only to return within a second, you looked back to your laptop.

“Right,” his arms were more loosely folded. “Still I don't have too.” his arms tighten back up again.

“That is true,” you nodded in agreement, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing them, but that's your choice.”  You weren’t going to force him to do anything, it wasn’t your job. He was quiet. You peered over your laptop to see what was going on. He looked at you, eyes wide, arms barely folded. He looked like a cat after finding something interesting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He returned to his vigilante mood. You shrugged it off and continued to work on your draft. He continued to observe you, you continued to work. You both stayed this way for a while’ it was like you were in a mental battle with him, a really one-sided one. You didn’t really have any intention of resuming the conversation. 

The silence was very welcomed. It allowed you to get your work done, you would’ve been done in 30 minutes if he didn’t show up. The silence was interrupted but the sound of a zipper opening. You didn’t look up from your laptop; slowly a sketch book came into your peripheral. You glanced at it, with a bit of hesitation you reached for it. Closing and sliding your laptop to the side, replacing it with the sketch book. you opened the cover and started going through the sketch book carefully. While had only shifted the conversation to get the heat off of you, you were nicely surprised with his talent.

The sketches in the beginning were good, in quality. They were all of different gorey situations, from a man having his head torn apart, to a woman with her skin falling off, it said something about his childhood, but that was his therapist's job to decide what this said. The theme changed after a few more pages of graphics images, which had become much less violent. There were first a few of just some plants, they were nice but not as nice as the first bug you saw, you could deduct that he had real references to base them off of. You flipped through the page, seeing pages full of multiple individual sketches, to pages of only one, fully detailed, landscapes. WIth some gore but it was far fewer than before . 

You could see his improvement. They were good to begin with but they were too focused on the bigger image, they were missing something. You felt like he figured whatever he was missing, this was shown in the recurring dog, Titus, or that's what he labeled the drawing. You flipped  through a few more pages, mostly animals and plants, until you saw the first human sketch that wasn’t a subject of a horrific act. You had seen the face only 20 minutes prior, it was Bruce Wayne, but he wasn’t wearing his playboy smile, he wasn’t even smiling. It was only a headshot but you could tell he wasn’t present in his mind. He was wearing a thoughtful look, a distant look. 

You looked over the page more carefully now, there was still an overall theme of live studies of plants and animals, with some small landscapes, but there was new addition with people now, they were all labeled with their names, you roughly could recalled some of them from early search on his family, they were greatly detail, they all seem to show some sort of part of their personality, their real personalities. Not the public image they upheld but who they really were. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking at this, but you think he would’ve stopped you if he didnt want you seeing this. You turned more pages, he had improved a lot, he had not only found what he was missing, but more. Every drawing and sketch, you left no drawing unseen.

You stopped at one page, it was a full page dedicated to a  family portrait, or a sketch of one. The portrait was the formal ones you were used to. They were casual clothes, no one was looking straight forward. No poses, no one sitting, nor was their hair combed neatly. It looked like just a family out and about. They all seemed so close, it seemed to be more of a wish than a reality but you were not close to him so maybe it was his reality. You looked over the page a final time before turning to the page. The rest of the sketchbook was architecture and landscapes with sprinkles of animals that you assumed were his pets. The talent he had was special, you would honestly tell him that he should pursue art, even if just on the side.

You slid it to Damian. “You have some real talent.” You expressed with a calm tone.

“I know.” He stated as if it was a known fact.  You choked on the air in your throat trying to hold back your laughter. He held a blank expression, he wasn’t cocky, if he was he would be smiling. 

“I am glad that you see it,” You look at your phone, 5 minutes before school ends, “I always get annoyed when people try to deflect praise.” You closed your laptop and put it into your bag. “I think it's a waste of time, it's just an attempt to seem humble”  you secured your bag to your back, “but that’s kinda hypocritical of me to say, don't you think?” The bell rings.

“Yes it is.” he agrees, nodding his head.

“By the way, what class did you skip to talk to me?” There was no way he had study hall this period.

“Well,” he paused. He just stood there not really wanting to answer you, you chuckled. He wasn’t happy that you laughed at him.

“Alright, good to know. Anyways, have a good day.” You walk away, still chuckling. before leaving through the door, you turned back, looking at him “Feel free to show me more art if you ever choose to.” You gave him a wide grin as you span around on your heel and continued to walk away with the typical bounce in your step. You didn't see his reaction, but it didn’t matter. You were able to get away from him without him asking you anymore questions you wouldn’t have been able to answer. 

The hallway was crowded, a sea of students were either trying to head home or back to their dorms. You got through it quickly as you had taken to the window method, where if you see an opening in between students, you take it. Something seemed off today, well more off than normal.  You didn’t pay attention to that. You made it to the front of the school and found your driver waiting for you, you waved and smiled before getting in and heading home.

Damian wasn’t sure how to feel about this, or he couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. You were so nice but he was suspicious of you. I mean, wouldn’t you be too? You were rich enough to go to Gotham academy. Which was known for being a school for the elite, yet he couldn’t connect you to any of the elite families. You also didn’t know any other elite family, especially the Wayne's. A founding family of Gotham, and always had something going around on the news. It's like you just dropped on to the face of the earth randomly when you were 11. 

He had already pulled your file from both cityhall and the school. Your school record was almost squeaky clean, only one instant of a fight that was deemed not your fault and bullying targeted towards you. Your city record only showed that you were an orphan with no listed legal guardian and that you have lived in the same penthouse for almost 7 years, near old Gotham. “No named father and mother is dead” he read his notes out loud. “What the fu-”

“Master Damian.” Alfred was standing in the doorway with a steamed suit for this weekend's gala. “Excuse the intrusion, I just came to put your formal suit away and say that Master Bruce is ready for patrol.”

“Thank you Alfred,” Damian gathered the pages, straightened them, and put everything into a file. He placed it to the side for later.

“Also,” Alfred continued to speak as he hung Damians suit in his closet. “I got a call from the school” Damian stopped and looked at him. Damian’s eyes followed Alfred as he walked towards the door. “Master bruce doesn’t know, yet, but I wouldn't recommend doing that again” Alfred warned him as he shut the door. Damian was glad Alfred would keep his secret, even if just for this once.

Damian heads down to the Batcave. He was still annoyed, he hated how easily he could let his guard falter so easily around you. You were too nice to a practical stranger. He thought, no, he knew that there was something up with you. There is no one still this decent in Gotham, not in the city where they needed a rich family to handle their criminal problem, or where there seems to be a S-level threat every couple of months. You simply could not exist in a city like this.

He passed many large frames with paintings, he never really paid attention to them, like he would be now. There were points where there were smaller frames with photos and he looked over at just the right time to see a very familiar face. He stared for a moment before continuing to walk but much faster now. After he was suited up, he met his father as he was sitting at the computer.

“Damian.” Bruce greeted him, still reading over files pulled up on the screen. Damian to a quick read over the files, it was a missing boy’s case. Probably kidnapped and being held for ransom or maybe because her parents did know something they shouldn’t.

“Father.” Damian replied. He eyed his father, he wanted to ask straight up but he knew his father would easily hide his reaction if he did so directly. So he waited for the question he typically hated disliked answering.

“How was school today?” Bruce was never the most attentive father but he tried, this was one of his few ways of trying to stay in tune with his children's lives. Damian would always say mostly the same thing ‘unchallenging’ or something along those lines. But tonight was different.

“Fine, but I met this person today,” Damian said.

“Oh really” Bruce raised an eyebrow and turned his chair around to face him, Damian has never mentioned meeting someone before. “Who are they?”

“___ ___, they are a senior.” Bruce tensed for a second at the mention of your name. That was all Damian needed to see from him. Bruce, of course, regained his composure within milliseconds.

“Hm, good to hear” Bruce almost mumbled. “I hope they are nice.” He turned back to the computer. Damian was a bit smug about getting that reaction from his father, what a long night it was going to be for Bruce.

[cassandralie]

Muriel, the Dimmest Little Morningstar

Maybe the question isn't "was Crowley Lucifer?" but who else was also Lucifer? After all, there was more than one Morningstar

or, as Crowley put it more casually,

he doesn't remember them, of course, probably due to Book of Life fuckery, just like he doesn't remember Fufur and Saraquel, who were also probably in the Morningstar Legion (that or the rebels called themselves Morningstars).

Which is why he also doesn't remember Muriel and Muriel also doesn't remember him. Both of them had their memories altered by the Book of Life*

*Sub Theory: the Book of Life erases who you were, makes it so you never existed... but you don't disappear or die. You become someone new. Hopefully this theory doesn't implode later--yeah, that's right, I made that sub joke instead of the other kind involving um...sandwiches.

But, just like Pepperidge Farms, the Metatron remembers.

he didn't say the "dumb" one, or the "stupid" one. Maybe to be polite. But "dim" isn't very polite either. It's just slightly less on the nose than the "not very bright one", aka the Dimmest Morningstar

But what happened to Muriel and their original memories? The same thing that was going to happen to Gabriel, obviously!

Muriel is basically a junior reporting angel. Sorry, scrivener. A no one and they know it.

Ranked so low they didn't know there was a rank under (which there probably wasn't until the Metatron wanted to punish Gabriel)

whatever Muriel did Before the Fall, whatever their name used to be, the Metatron didn't get rid of them because:

that's right, Neil Gaiman the Metatron will need Muriel for his evil plans, probably involving thee Second Coming and another apocalypse.

maybe to keep them out of the way, or maybe because they have power he's waiting for the right moment to unlock.

But he does make sure it's still locked.

Other people have explained that the book is about pieceing together fragments of the past* Maybe Muriel will remember who they are? Remember who Crowley is? Remember what really happened to cause the War in Heaven, the Fall, all that?

Maybe they will remember just in time to stop the Second Coming and the Second Armageddon--with help from our divorced dads, of course.

(*also a missing uncle - Crowley? A fellow Morningstar.

*also an estranged father with a belief in a higher power - Aziraphale? the Metatron?

*and also an exploded Grandmother - God? Muriel's previous identity?)

For further evidence, please note the star and crown on their helmet and recall "everything is meant" TM

This looks like a former Prince of Heaven, Morningstar Legion to me

And that is my theory :)

(if anyone said this first, sorry! All credit to you!)

Now, I'm no published author and barely anyone reads my fics (but the ones who do are Real Ones-- I love ya'll), so I have zero street cred here, and am probably so off the mark my dart hit the wall instead of the dart board, but I wanted to share my thoughts anyway and see what everyone thinks. Please let me know!

(Bonus Crack Theory: Muriel's original name was Lucy/Luci/Luciel. Combine with Fufur, that would make a Lucifer with bad demon spelling Lucyfur.)

[evelili]

I know it’s been ages since I sent one of these, I’ve been busy and I’m still busy so I don’t have time to read the full chapter BUT!! Here’s some of my thoughts and favorite lines from the beginning of this chapter. The Final Trial.

I really love how you write the memory sequences in this story. They all flow really well and don’t feel redundant!! The reveal of these memories twilight has hidden of Luna are so good!! God!! Her devastation when she realized she had forgotten someone as important as Celestia’s SISTER her AUNT is AMAZING!!

-

her hair pulled back into a ponytail, her legs bare below the knees of a ridiculous pink-and-purple skort that she’d have been mortified to wear past puberty—eight or nine, then, she decided. It’s probably summertime, too.

-

God this mental image is so cute!! I had to google what skorts are but yeah they definitely fit Twilight and her character, especially as a kid!!

-

Twilight waited for her younger self to voice the familiar retort she thought she’d known her entire life—magic isn’t real; magic doesn’t exist; magic is fictional and fantastical and lies. But instead of a rational dismissal she heard her voice ask something completely wrong instead:

“You’re really going to show me how?”

And Twilight didn’t hear anything else after that.

-

DAMNNN this sequence is so good!! The way twilights world is just DESTROYED by this is fantastic!!

-

“Well, I wanted to check in on the two of you.” The door swung further open, and suddenly Twilight was face-to-face with the Celestia of her childhood—younger by nearly a decade and yet still recognizable in almost every way. She hadn’t ever thought time had changed her mentor much, but the contrast between present and past was far more blatant when not viewed as a gradual shift. No laugh lines. No grey hairs. No ice in her eyes.

Just a Celestia whose very presence made Someone bristle in response.

-

This description of her is DEVASTATING. She’s both somehow unhappier and so much happier with Luna in her life. The way you write her is stunning and I’m loving the conflict between her wanting Luna to focus on the future and Luna who is focused on enjoying the present. It’s a very cool conflict and I love how you’re handling it!! Them both caring more about twilights emotions than each other’s is heartbreaking

-

It did—to both the Twilight of the present and the past. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I get it.”

-

Fuck this line is FANTASTIC. The understanding twilight finds in her memories of Luna are fantastic and I’m very curious on how this will impact how she handles Nightmare going forward. Unfortunately I can’t read anymore tonight, but I love it so far!!

STOP THE CLOCK. I FORGOT THIS BANGER LINE: “You believe in magic, Twilight,” she said gently. “And so long as you do, that’s belief enough for me.” The way you write Luna and how much she and celestia both love twilight is DEVASTATING

(combined ur two asks together) WAHHHH thank u so much for the asks!!! and no worries abt taking ur time w the story, u only get to read once for the first time after all!

this chapter is definitely Up There in terms of how happy i am with how it turned out, im rlly glad u liking it so far! i dont know how much i can say without spoiling things, but a reminder to read on fimfic to get the Full Experience (epub missing images my nemesis), a rather important section will b missing otherwise!!

i think to me a big aspect of luna and celestia's relationship in the show that kinda got glossed over was that celestia may not have realized how her actions affected luna until too late. and, it's kind of the "road to hell with good intentions" thing, bc i dont think celestia is the bad guy (at least in tte) for believing that the best way to help someone is plan, prepare, try to think ahead and look forward, etc. but, this kind of mindset can clash with someone who, at that moment, finds the prospect of thinking about the future so impossible. writing from life helped a lot in this regard :)

also, completely unrelated but also related, have a meme :D and thanks again for reading!

[gatormeister]

39 episodes into Gundam Wing. Still enjoying it, I would say that the second half of the show is a lot stronger than the first half, but it is very disappointing to have not one, but two whole recap episodes in here. Unfortunately they confirmed an opinion of mine that I'd been thinking over since my last post.

Gundam Wing actually does very well with story telling in the moment to moment, but zooming out and viewing the events of the show as a whole so far, feels very... off. So much has happened in the show, and yet it feels like very little has changed at the same time.

Plot beats have this odd disjointedness to them. Things just sort of happen to the Gundam pilots and Relena, they can't change anything from where they are now, and haven't really had the ability to do so since the Romefeller Foundation takes over the Earth. They come close when the Sanc Kingdom existed, but that doesn't last very long at all. They're all just being tossed around an unstable environment with nowhere to really go.

I suppose that's what sets Wing apart though. There is no place to go back to. No White Base, no Argama/Nahel Argama, no Tekkadan, no 08th MS Team, no Earth House, no Inglessa Militia. Sure Quatre has something like that, but they don't show up enough for them to be that for the show. The space colonies don't want them back and White Fang just wants the Gundams as a form of propaganda to rile people up, the Sanc Kingdom was destroyed, those scientists are all over the place, and the Gundam pilots barely even want to work with each other half the time.

Which isn't a bad thing mind you, at least not inherently. Interesting developments are happening all the time, but there is so much that it becomes easy to forget a character or plot beat exists until they suddenly get brought back up.

Part of why Zechs sticks out to me so much compared to the rest of the show is probably because unlike a lot of other characters and factions, he does feel like a constant in the show. Even if he doesn't have an appearance for a bit, you can always be sure he'll pop back up in some way soon, and his plot is very easy to keep track of because of that.

Anyway, I'm going to cut off the ramble for now. I look forward to Heero trying to kill Relena (again) when I get back to it. And I've also decided what I'll be watching in Gundam once I finish Endless Waltz. The current plan is to go through War in the Pocket, Stardust Memory, and Thunderbolt, and depending on the length of those three I might include the Igloo OVAs. Once those are finished, I intend to go for After War Gundam X or Reconguista in G, both of which I've had my eyes on for a bit now.

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Hello! I wanted to put together a February 2023 fic rec bc I’ve read some very amazing fics so far this year. This includes my January recs as well bc I forgot to make one last month lol anyway, in no particular order, enjoy!!!

Love Is A Word, You Gave It A Name by CuckooTrooke/ @larrydoinglaundry (158k)

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

Sweet Little You by @rosesforriley (112k)

Harry Styles has been passionately researching artificial pregnancy to give a shot at conception to anyone who cannot naturally conceive for years, and after nearly a decade, he finally cracks it. He's about to make medical and scientific history, and, well, who better to be the first test subject than himself? He's always wanted a baby after all. And who better to ask to help him conceive his baby than his goofy best friend/colleague who wants absolutely nothing to do with being a father? They sure would make a cute baby, wouldn't they?OR: Harry is having a baby and he's making it everybody's business.

Untangle Me by suicxne (103k)

Louis finds himself out of place in LA, unable to get at an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He supposes back in the early days, home hadn’t been a place. It’d been a person. He’d etched it permanently into his skin for fucks sake. It was always him and Harry. Stuck to each other like super glue. Pulled together by some magnetic force, existing in their own bubble. Everyone could see it, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it?It’s not like Louis can pinpoint the exact moment in time when him and Harry fell out of sync. There wasn’t really one at all. It had been a gradual slip, like the tide wearing away at a sandstone cliff. Chipping the solid foundations until there was nothing left to stop the structure falling to the waves below. It’s not like he spends all of his time sitting around moping over a lost friendship, he’s good at distractions. But LA only seems to accentuate the distance between them. Two separate planets, not even in the same solar system.Or the one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December) by @greenfeelings (128k)

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

Teach Me How To Love by @perfectdagger (70k)

Louis can’t believe he’s third wheeling, again, so he scans the bar trying to find something better to do.

And he does, he recognizes a face.

That face looks angry, almost fuming and Louis takes a gulp from his beer and looks to the other side, pretending he didn’t even see the bloke, pretending he has no clue who that person coming over his way is. “You’ve told everyone and their mother that I’m a bad fucker?!”

That’s how Harry greets him Smooth. Not really. The one in which Harry is bad at sex and Louis spreads it all over town and to make up for it, decides to help him with no agenda of getting anything from it, but in the end, he ends up getting more than he bargained for.

Just Ask Me To by tellmethisisnotlove (120k)

“You’re telling the truth,” Louis whispers.

“Of course I’m telling the truth!” Harry doesn’t even care that he sounds exasperated.

“Oh my god.” Louis grabs the wall behind him as if looking for support. His body slides down against it until he’s sitting crouched on the floor.

He mumbles something but Harry can’t really figure out what it is. He crouches down, and looks desperately at the breaking boy in front of him.

“You’re telling the truth,” Louis whispers. “You were not supposed to–”

“I was not supposed to do what? Tell me please,” Harry urges, taking Louis’ hands gently in his.

Or the X Factor era canon fic where they learn how to be a couple and that not everyone is going to be on their sides especially those with plain white t-shirts and saccharine smiles.

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie (46k)

Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.

Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.

A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @imogenleefic (234k)

When Harry Styles received acceptance into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat leaving him with three options:

1) Moving back into student halls. 2) Becoming homeless. 3) Moving in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other friends. He ended up choosing the third option. But it was a close race. Shame one of his new housemates reminded him why he only has one friend. If Louis Tomlinson had to choose one thing couldn't stand, it would be pretentious tossers, having grown up around enough of them. If he had to choose something he couldn't live without, it would be his friends. So he was proper thrilled to move in with his best mates and a couple of other lads. That was until he discovered one of them was the archetype for a pretentious tosser.

In the interest of seeing out the twelve-month lease without killing each other, they both try (debatable) to get along despite believing they were opposite in almost every conceivable way, each having the communication skills of a cucumber, and secrets that had no business be kept secret.

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics (113k)

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter. (the lighthouse au part 1)

14/09/2019 by @mediawhorefics (3k)

In mid-September, Harry comes home.

A Tired Tired Sea Coda. (the lighthouse au part 2)

[pocketstoriesstore]

SOUNDS FAIR -Part II

Summary: You’re visiting your best friend for a while, when you get to know about someone’s existence. And everything start to change in you life.

Please +18!! (cigarettes, alcohol, wounds, suffering, bad memories.)

Hey there. Sorry for my choice of words, I’m from BR and I love to write, but I write in Portuguese 🤭 this time I decided to do different so here we are. I hope you like this piece of story. This is the part two of “Souds fair”. Hope y’all like it.

—————————————————————————

And that was everything you could remember clearly since the fall you suffered when you stepped behind twice just to squeeze your left foot on a puddle of something that looked like alcohol on the floor.

Embarrassed by the hot guy. Congratz.

And then, slapping your right hand on the whiskey bootle and sending it directly to the same piece of the floor which you decided to use the same hand to support your body weight on the fall, you got your hand skin hurt in so many large and deep wounds you couldn’t count.

Everything happened in less than three seconds and that was so incredibly painful that you… well, started to cry and curse so many things you didn’t remember knowing, letting every costumer curious and worried, some of them even disposing to help you out.

Leon was sharp cutting every chaos off while he shouted: “ All of you, chill out. Ill fix her hand NOW, dont worry.” While everyone stared, he proceeded: “About the bottle, it was my fault. ‘Think I scared her when I came in without a sound. Be righ back with her and ill fix that too, Sebastian. Now, yall just chill out, she’ll freak out like that! I actually am!”

He managed to put you up, tying your hand with the fabric of his sleeve to stank the waterfall of blood you were loosing in that moment, when you shouted out at his firm touch to hold the fabric without tying it on your wounded skin. he said in the most soft voice you’ve heard from him ‘til now, sounding like that one was just for you: “i know it hurts, but i need you to close your hand like this. It will help until we get you into the hospital. You think you can do this for me, hon?” You just agreed with your head while lost deep in his eyes, thinking about the possibility of one of those big pieces of glass had fucked up your artistic hands movings for good, but that wasn’t a good time to think of it.

He took you to his bike and helped you out to hang in it, making sure you were safe while he went to take his helmet in a few seconds and gave it to you.

You both got into the hospital very fast, even for yourself who was dying in pain. You tried your best to hold tight on his strong abs with barely one hand while he runned the fuck off on the highway as if his own mother were in danger.

When you got inside the hospital (finally), he sat you on any chair and then he showed to the nurses something in the interface of his wallet, making everyone move really fast to attend to you.

Was those rumors about him to be a cop or something true, then, huh?

Seconds later you got someone picking your wrist and hand with anesthesia and suturing your wounds, while you kept looking every single detail of glass being taken off of the wholes in your hand and blood pouring out frenetically.

L: You don’t feel even weird seeing those gore things, huh? You’re a brick.

Y: You didn’t expect me going through all the childish tears i let roll today, did you? Ive been worst

L: Worst than bleeding is bad.

Y: You wouldn’t believe. How did we get here so fast? You might be important. Thanks anyway.

L: Not that important, but if I have something on my favor against all the mess I’m in, then ill like to use it.

With a scoff you giggle and say:

Y: What could be wrong about you?

He stares at you when its too late to find out you SAID something. You feel your face burn and immediately try to fix things a little bit, but already afraid it’s REALLY too late.

Y: I mean, when i look at you it seems like you made yourself without loosing a step. It seems like you know exactly how or when to take a step, or to fix things, or how to make people to do whatever you say. It was kind of easy to obey you until now.

L: Are you supposing you’re going to be reckless now that you’re hand is almost in one piece?

You both laugh, you always with ghost of tears in your eyes, when one traitor tear find a way to scape from your eye and roll your face down. It was really weird and stressful to be there, to get a fucked up hand now, to be safe by a hot stranger who picked out your hidden conversation about him with your best friend, but something over all that seemed so right.

Finding real worry about you in his eyes made you feel so fulfilled, grateful and something else, and two seconds after you started to cry again, cleaning the tears from your face with your elbow, ashamed about not being even capable of holding it inside your eyes. Mess. Bricks don’t cry. Ever.

His smile despaired almost immediately, then he was on his knees beside you, confused about what made you cry this time but trying his best to not mess things even more: “Hey! Hey, its ok. Does it still hurt?” He reached out for your free hand, holded it with his soft but strong tate, caressing your knuckles while talking in almost a shushing: “We’re almost there, please, hold on.”

You couldn’t just tell him what was that, so you decided to agree with your head again, half laughing your best sympathetic smile, when he surprised you letting out of your hand softly to roll his thumbs across your cheeks. “Look, It’s all fine already. lets get you home and pretend this is a great day and we can try to buy you a new hand if you’re up to.”

You both laugh again, you take your ass out of the chair, say thanks to everyone who took care of you as you leave the hospital.

Fresh air in the face, hand almost fixed.

When you’re outside and your phone works again, turned out that Elizabeth tried to call you eleven times and left lots of messages saying you left your keys of her apartment on the bar, and it was too late to wake her parents up.  

Even in the rules of the building it was impossible trying to enter like a visitor at three A.m.

You were homeless, now.

L: What?

Y: Im homeless now. Do you want to spend four hours walking around? Because I don’t have a place to come back till seven o’clock. What do you say?

L: I say you may be homeless but I’m not. Its cold here and you’re already lucky enough for today. Lets go to my house.

You just nod. It was still easy to obey that cop.

You followed him inside his apartment. It was clean and half have anything hanging on the walls. Everything looked so cold and square, but in a good way. You stared him while he took his shoes off, you did the same when he says: “You can pretend this is your own house, don’t need to do exactly what i do. Only if you want to.”

Y: “Got it. Do you have coffee here? I can prepare, if you drink too.”

L: “Not about to try to rest even a little bit? You can use my bed, actually. Im not a bit tired.”

Y: “I guess sleeping now would make me a potential serial killer. How could I sleep? Not even if i was a chill person.”

L: “Let’s make coffee, then.”

Y: “Can you talk to me while I do it? It’ll feel more comfortable for me to be so used to your house as if it was mine if you talk.”

L: “What do you wanna hear about? My real name? My job which makes me an important person for the government security, my wife who doesn’t exists, or why I keep going to your friends bar alone late night almost everyday and talk to no one?”

Y: “How much did you hear? Are you spy? Because I would never know you’ve been there hiding if you didn’t tell me. I want to know all. And your “real” name too, please, weirdo.”

L: “My name is Leon S. Kennedy. Im on a short vacation, so I decided do stay here for a while to get away from the job. Which means we’re not up to talk about this, BUT you’re safe with me.”

Your heart pounds on your throat and your cheeks burns at this part. Is it ok to feel like this with an stranger? He could be really dangerous, cmon.

He goes on:”I don’t have a wife, or anything like that. I had some but this is it. Im here to try to clean my mind as much as i can, so i talk to important people to me just by the phone and I guess things works kinda good this way.”

You turn around: “…And?”

L:”Aaaand I just told you too much. I’m afraid to put you in danger if I keep talking and talking. I don’t think I have so much mo-

You cut him off: “ Are you running from something? Because it feels like you’re hiding from the ones you apparently like. What happened?”

He looks confused and admired while you make coffee with one hand, always watching out so you wouldn’t get burned with hot water. And you noticed that all along.

L: “I know I may look like this, but they know more than myself I need all this, most of the things I’ve been through, we were kinda together. Our job is really messy and sometimes we just need to disappear and pretend we’re another person with another life.”

You stare at him two seconds, offering him a cup of fresh and hot coffee: “Seems really messy, cop. I’m sorry for all that. Is it working? I mean, this time here, and all.”

L : “Well, more than I thought. I got myself owning a new hand to someone I just know, whose name I found out in the hospital because she didn’t tell me…“

Y: “OMG! I’m so sorry!”-He laughs loud and you keep talking, starting to laugh and pretending to feel hurt in your feelings “ I was bleeding, please be nice and forgive me. I think I was so worried about to discover your personal informations that I didn’t realize you would care if I do have a name too.”

L: Of corse I’d do. Nobody ever made me coffee with one hand before, I’d never felt this special. Why did you want to know all this? It was just to tell Elizabeth?

His voice fits his humor so well. But he seemed so triggered by the doubt.

Y: “I chased for a reason, at first, so I blamed her. But I don’t feel like telling her anything you told me. The informations are mine too, now. Im not the kind of sharing so many things.“

He laughed while stared for a moment deeply inside your eyes, again. You must be wrong, but you swear you could feel his eyes along all your existence while you were preparing coffee with your back turned to him. He offers you a cigarette, you take it and say: “Thank you so much for this day. If I knew a broken hand would make me know nice people like you I’d break a member a day at least.”

He just stared with a kind of a smile growing on his mouth when you said: “ Can I thank you properly?”

Suspicious and curious at the same time, he said: “Well, you don’t have to worry about i-“

You approached and hugged him softly. And he hugged you back, and the hug became tighter and warm.

There was something terribly uncontrollable growing inside of you and you both kept like that for a while.

[sovpologist]

ok finally went ahead and caught up with the season and here are my thoughts!

hmmm... i like the season's concept but not the execution sadly. it feels bad to have an entire season where the central question is "how do you be more than a weapon" and the answer to that question is "kill yourself to save others" i guess????? rasputin didnt really get the chance to live as more than a weapon and ended his life AS a weapon but its okay and "growth" because he's being a weapon... for people he cares about this time? idk, i'm not one of those people who are like "you don't owe anyone anything" because i think helping other people is a beautiful thing to do and i love destiny's focus on community, but i feel like rasputin's ending was more about denying him community if that makes sense... he never really got the chance to experience humanity and be human unless you count his recouped felwinter memories

i feel like there were so many interesting routes we could have gone with a fully mobile and "human" rasputin that i guess the writers were just not interested in exploring... im not a rasputin loremaster so if there was precedence for rasputin being inseparable from his warsats please lmk but it genuinely felt like it came from nowhere that rasputin HAD to die to shut down the warsats. until now they had been treated as something completely separate from him (they were able to operate remotely even when he was shut down for god's sake, although you can argue gameplay elements don't equal canon)

even when ana says "there has to be another way" rasputin's response seems to indicate that it doesn't even matter because somehow someday someone will eventually get hold of the warsats and use them for harm so he might as well just die now, which again is like.... such an unhealthy and negatively self-sacrificing mindset!!!!! it is genuinely really sad to play through all the seasonal missions at once and do a speedrun of rasputin going from confident to completely depressed and questioning his purpose in life if he can't be a weapon and use force to overpower his enemies, and then to have that arc just NEVER be resolved bc he immediately decides he needs to die for the good of others. it was just a completely unsatisfying arc

there are a billion other ways the writers could have sufficiently nerfed rasputin so to not have to deal with an overpowered war god of a character who can call in an airstrike anywhere at any time and can hack every computer in existence simultaneously (listen, i get it, it would be hard to write around that) and i have to believe the destiny writers aren't stupid so i guess they genuinely just really thought rasputin had to die, probably because they wanted something "big" and "shocking" going into lightfall. and i get the meta reason is that this "chapter" of destiny is wrapping up and we have to get rid of some dangling characters and plot threads but idk i don't think that should stop me from being able to critique HOW they decide to shed characters. have rasputin lose access to his warsats and databases and decide he wants to fuck off to felwinters peak to do some soul searching if you really just dont want to have to deal with writing him into lightfall and final shape!

it just feels like such a waste as a character and i'm not even a huge rasputin fan. what really frustrates me is the wasted potential. you barely actually get to meet the "real" rasputin and he's gone, which is why the whole "emotional death scene" fell very flat for me. the ending cinematic was very gorgeous, no doubt about it, but it wasn't as emotionally moving to me as it was to others and i assume thats because i didn't play d1 so i wasn't waiting seven years for this character to actually show up as anything other than ominous backwards disembodied russian voicelines

but i dont want to be totally negative, there were a lot of small character moments i really liked. the bray sisters stuff was great and i loved mara and osiris' conversation, it was nice to see the game acknowledge that they're friends. oh and i genuinely liked rasputin's poetry! submit this man's work to the poetry foundation! it was also nice to see the mid season operation missions get changed up a little too, they felt fun and unique, and seraph station was sooooo fun! i feel like the gameplay elements of this season were great; i just didn't love the direction they took the story in the end

[solomon-tozer]

Okay so @ra-scheln is interested in the Crozer & Hickey thoughts living in my brain, so here they (or at least some of them) are! (Because holding up our faves and pointing out all the holes is fun and we should do it more >:D)

First thing's first: Crozier is NOT a people person. He wears his rank so awkwardly, he doesn't make an effort to be friendly or approachable, he sort of :[ faces at pretty much everyone, and just... reads people pretty damn badly. Most of the men I think just put up with this (to a point) because he's Captain, but Hickey... Hickey isn't like most of the men.

So the second point is: Hickey really is not a normal guy. He's wearing the guise of one. He's trying to blend in and just get by. But he is, well before the show begins, damaged in spectacular ways. He doesn't think the same as others. His way of processing things is on a different level. He's also constantly on alert, absorbing, analysing and enacting what he thinks will serve himself best.

So, throw the two of them together, and you get... a disaster.

Crozier barely knows Hickey exists. He's one of the crew. Maybe he'd noticed the Limerick detail and heard the accent, thought 'huh that's odd', and then just... gone about his day until they met in the Great Cabin. By that meeting, they've been stuck in for their first winter, Crozier is feeling shitter than ever, he's drinking more, Sir John has invaded his space, Crozier doesn't trust him or feel listened to/appreciated/valued, and then there's this... guy... in to fix the privvy and holding a dog shit in his hand. He's just some guy. A refreshing someone/no one to just vent to for a minute or two.

Only, that's not how it should work. Hickey doesn't know his place, because he doesn't understand the system he's inserted himself into, and Crozier doesn't really care in that moment or even think 'hey this isn't an appropriate way to talk to one of the ratings'. Crozier has no idea what that interaction is going to create. At all. Probably barely even noticed who he was talking to. He got to say his dramatic lines, be civil for a minute, and then that was that.

But to Hickey? Oh boy. Earlier, there had been the whole Irving discovering him and Gibson thing. And while Gibson was freaking out, Hickey was grinning and smoking, not actually afraid. See, he'd read Irving. Correctly. He's calm about this. He's in control. Nothing bad is going to happen.

He now goes on to read Crozier. Incorrectly. Maybe a little high on that close shave with Irving and his surety, Hickey's now in the Captain's cabin, and the Captian recognises him. Speaks to him. As an equal, no less. He sees something in him. He confides in Hickey. When Hickey works Crozier to extract details about the leads/chances of getting under way again, it's easy. Crozier doesn't notice (well, he doesn't care/doesn't think, just speaks, which he shouldn't have done).

The whole moment where Crozier offers Hickey a drink, and insists, then makes that toast... Nothing to Crozier, but everything to Hickey. He doesn't need to worry about Gibson, Irving, or anything else. The Captain has recognised him, and his potential. "To ourselves." A navy man would know that's a traditional toast for a Wednesday. Hickey thinks it's a serious, genuine toast to himself and the Captain. He carrys his memory of that Wednesday right until the very end.

Of course, Gibson starts tearing Hickey's idea apart, quite brutally. So in that break-up, Hickey loses both Gibson and what he thought he and Crozier were together (a set apart, a cut above the rest, exceptional, etc - only, I think Hickey sees people in positions of power as stepping stones for his own greatness, and those people will eventually be beneath him as he rises even higher and oooh he's so deliciously unhinged). Hickey's reaction is to take a shit on Gibson's bed, and then to go through Crozier's things like a paranoid lover, where he then finds a letter that confirms Crozier was going to abandon him/them. He later talks about it at the hanging, about how Crozier was leaving everyone behind, but at the time the sting of it was that he was going to be left behind. He meant nothing to Crozier after all.

But by this point, Crozier has invited him in. There's something between them. They know things about each other (in Hickey's mind). They're still equals. Crozier, on the other hand, probably goes right back to not even thinking about Hickey until Silna is kidnapped.

At that point, Crozier goes way, way overboard. He reacts viciously when Hickey steps out of line (a result of him not being a Navy man, but moreso I think from him thinking that he and Crozier are equals). Hickey thought he was acting sensibly, as he ought to, and in a way Crozier would be thankful for! But instead Hickey becomes the focal point for Crozier's anger and malice - Hickey is someone Crozier can kick, so to speak, and Hickey keeps giving him excuses by riling him up during that scene. Maybe there is a little something of 'I don't like this guy' in Crozier at that point, but I read it as mostly being 'here's a guy who has just pissed me off, and I am the one in power and I'm going to fucking show it'. Crozier is too self-absorbed to care about anyone else, or to realise that his actions are going to have serious consequences.

One of those consequences? I'd say Irving's murder.

Okay I am reaching a tiny bit here, as Irving's murder was opportunistic, and there's already the fact that Irving is responsible for Gibson breaking up with Hickey, but I feel that there is another layer to it. In justifying Hickey's punishment in front of the crew, 'dirtiness' is tacked on the end. And were the fuck did that come from?? It wasn't mentioned when the three men were questioned! In that moment, Hickey looks in dismay at Irving, thinking that Irving has said something to Crozier. Which he hasn't. The charge would have been for sodomy, or indecendy, or something along those lines. But Hickey misunderstands. The bitterness Hickey feels towards Irving deepens. The only logical (for Hickey) conclusion that can be drawn from the extra charge is that Irving is behind it.

From then on... Well. The bulk of the crew shift to Erebus. Anyone who took the time to notice Hickey's character might realise he gets lost in the crowd. He can't operate surrounded by normalcy, he struggles in the light, but when the crowd is thinned and gasping for breath in the face of adversity? Hickey thrives. And he's left/kept on Crozier's ship. Kept close. It's personal.

How much thought and attention does Crozier give Hickey? Probably not very much. His drinking gets worse, HIckey doesn't cause any further trouble, and then Crozier withdraws to go through potentially lethal detox. I doubt he thinks about very much except the pain and misery he's in. Everyone but Jopson and MacDonald are kept away. But Hickey is still on the same ship, no distracting crowd to smother his voice, he starts to rise, to feel the power he has over Irving, become a source of comfort for Manson, to gather information and draw together those who aren't content. And we're not even delving into Tuunbaq! Because that's also where Hickey is transferring his focus/power. Crozier was weak. Unworthy. But he has still wronged Hickey, and Hickey is going to get his revenge one way or another.

Quick detour here to say that Goodsir is the only person who comes close to noticing Hickey's nature, but he does nothing with that knowledge. He doesn't share his concern, perhaps assuming 'oh they all know what this guy is like' because Hickey's sweet-talking is so glaringly obvious to him. He's the only person we see who doesn't fall for it. (But then again, why bother anyone with something the caulker's mate says? He's just a lowly seaman.)

There does come a point where Crozier finally notices Hickey. When he's sober, they've abandoned the ships, and when he has to because the dance he's unknowlingly been engaged in is about to enter its final act. Hickey was just a convenient, nameless, faceless confidant/emotional punching bag, but now he's a very real, very conniving, and very clever threat. What in the hell is wrong with him?? Why is he so unhinged? Well, because Crozier helped to make him that way. Hickey was always going to do what he could to survive and get out of there, but with Crozier it became intensely personal. Hickey is, to a degree, a monster of Crozier's creation. Elevated and recognised then spurned and humiliated... That bit during the lashing where Hickey has that transcendent moment... Crozier created that. Long before, when he raised a glass and toasted the two of them, he tethered Hickey to him.

And, of course, Hickey has to sever that tie. He has to end it. To prove he's risen above, and has won. His victory is the final victory. Crozier was wrong to cast him aside (but Hickey is right to cast Crozier aside, because he's no longer worthy).

This post is, obviously, about Crozier and Hickey, but the moments in which Crozier thinks about Hickey actually are few and far between. When they occur, they're intense, yes, but so much of this is one-sided. Crozier has other concerns, after all, whether or not he deals with them well. Would Crozier paying more attention to Hickey help? Fuck no! Crozier is utterly unable to realise what's going on with Hickey and keep their interactions professional. And even if he could? Hickey isn't reading Captian/subordinate in their interactions. At best, Crozier could have packed Hickey off to Erebus where he might have been distracted and found it harder to turn the minds of other men. But Crozier didn't think to do that. Didn't realise that Hickey was obsessed with him, and the bond he became convinced that they shared. No one noticed, because Hickey is good at not being noticed, and also because there were so many other concerns weighing on everyone (including Crozier's health and method of captaining).

Even at the end, Hickey has that little speech with Crozier. He's showing off his power and position, while concluding this chapter of his life. Maybe part of him also wishes Crozier would praise him again, and recognise him, and express regret discarding Hickey. Hickey would still cast him aside, of course, but for a moment he could toy with offering forgiveness.

Crozier won't do any of those things, of course. He no more understand Hickey than he did months ago. He sees the actions, sees the unravelling of a man, but doesn't appreciate his own part in it. He has no idea how profoundly he's impacted Hickey's life (and thereby the lives of many of the other men).

Given the length of this, I'll wrap up my ramblings there, and remind anyone reading this that these genuinely are my rambling, and a meander through the meta that lives in my mind. I very much enjoy holding up my faves and pointing out all the broken bits, and it's so much fun exploring how these two interact and fuck each other up specifically. Take what you like and ignore what you don't!

[the-himawari]

A3! Troupe Event Translation - Sunny Blanc (8/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: It’s breathtaking~.

Homare: A magnificent view, indeed.

Azuma: It’s great they’re in full bloom right now.

Tsumugi: Yes. This is the place, alright… It hasn’t changed at all since back then.

Hisoka: …You’ve been here before?

Tsumugi: I came here with my grandma when I was a child. And I wanted to visit this place one more time to take pictures of the peonies.

Hisoka: The flowers I saw before were spring peonies. But the ones this time of the year are winter peonies called tree peonies.

Tasuku: I’m glad you were able to remember.

Tsumugi: Yeah. Hisoka-kun, it seems you have some special memories attached to these flowers. But these peonies were close to my heart too. …I totally forgot about them until recently though.

Hisoka: …Really? That has happened to you too?

Homare: Perhaps it would be wise to take some pictures before you forget.

Tsumugi: Oh, right.

*click*

Tsumugi: There we go.

Tasuku: Are you sure they’re not blurry?

Tsumugi: They’re alright… I think. How do they look to you?

Tasuku: I’ll give them a pass. Should I take the pictures?

Tsumugi: No, it’s okay. It’s meaningful for me to take them by myself today, so this is fine.

Azuma: Is anything coming back to you, Hisoka?

Hisoka: …No. But recently, whenever I’ve recalled the past, there was always a scent that served as a trigger… … (There’s a faint fragrance… so these are peonies…)

*flashback starts*

Hisoka: (There’s so many flowers on display… Is this a flower shop…?)

Clerk: Up we go—.

Hisoka: Ah… (One of them fell… I wonder if I should pick it up…) (I might get told off again if I touch it… But it’ll wither and get trampled on if it’s left there…) Excuse me… this one fell.

Clerk: Hm? Ahh, you’re right. Thank you. What a kind child you are.

Hisoka: … (Thank God. They didn’t get mad at me…)

Clerk: Ah, yes. Please wait a moment.

Hisoka: ?

Clerk: Here you go. This is a present as a thank you for your thoughtfulness. You can call it a paeonia. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

Hisoka: (Flowers aren’t edible, so I’m not interested… Yet…) …I think it’s pretty. (It’s pointless to receive something I can’t eat… But, it’s strange. I feel so happy, I’m about to cry…)

*flashback ends*

Hisoka: …

Izumi: Are you okay, Hisoka-san?

Tasuku: Wouldn’t it be better for him to rest on that bench over there?

Guy: Shall we carry him?

Hisoka: …No, I’m alright. …I remembered. A memory of peonies. …When I was little, the very first flower someone gave me was a peony. I never thought that I would receive a flower, so I pretended I wasn’t interested when they handed it to me… To me, that was one of my most precious memories that I never wanted to forget… So why in the world did that happen?

Tsumugi: Sometimes, even I forget times that were happy. I only recently remembered that Flower Park was the place I visited with my grandma. You’re not the only one, Hisoka-kun. We’re only human, so it’s natural to forget both good times and bad.

Tausku: I barely remember my childhood either. That’s the way it is.

Guy: Just like you, Mikage, I am sure there are still things from my past that still lay forgotten. I understand how you feel.

Azuma: Human memories are fickle things, aren’t they? You can’t recall them clearly forever. I have had times when I’ve felt lonesome about forgetting too.

Homare: That is why I think they can be preserved by reminiscing from time to time on how things were in the past.

Izumi: Even if, let’s say, you do forget, then I’m sure all of your memories are just sleeping inside of you Hisoka-kun. Just like how August-san certainly existed, the time we’ve spent together will never disappear. Besides, right now, you have loved ones you can share all your memories with. That’s why there’s no need to be afraid.

Hisoka: I see… (…I’m not alone now. Even if I do forget, I’m sure that someone—everyone will remember…)

Tsumugi: I also felt a little taken aback when my grandma forgot that we came here before. Earlier, I said that it’s natural to forget things since we’re only human. But that was self-serving of me, wasn’t it…

Hisoka: …That’s proof that you care about your grandma, Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: I appreciate it, Hisoka-kun. The reason I was able to recall my memories of Flower Park was because of a souvenir bookmark I gave to Tasuku. When I laid eyes on that bookmark, this exact view came back to my mind. It would be best to preserve your precious memories in a tangible form so you won’t forget them, wouldn’t it?

Azuma: Make the memories you don’t want to forget, tangible… that’s a wonderful idea.

Homare: Then let us preserve today in a tangible form as a reminder. Hisoka-kun, you’re in the charge of the camera.

Hisoka: Why…

Homare: I wish to capture this moment right now on film.

Hisoka: …What a pain. You can do it yourself.

Homare: You won’t budge, will you? I ask you then, Guy-san.

Guy: I do not mind.

Hisoka: …Ah, I’ve decided what I want to do for our next play.

Homare: Right now!? I was going to record a VLOG.

Izumi: What do you have in mind?

Hisoka: I want to use flowers.

Guy: Flowers? That is certainly a motif we have not done before.

Izumi: That sounds great. If it’s Winter troupe, then I’m sure the play will end up having a different vibe from Summer troupe’s “Prince in Full Bloom”. “Actors are flowers”, after all.

Homare: I think that theme is perfect for Hisoka-kun to show his family what a fine actor he’s become.

Hisoka: …Also, I have a request for Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: A request?

Hisoka: …But I feel kind of tired from reminiscing about the past. I’m sleepy.

Tasuku: Hey, don’t just fall asleep. And he’s out like a light like always.

*dream starts*

*blink, blink*

Hisoka: …Huh?

*blink, blink*

Hisoka: (It’s the market I used wander around all time when I was young… But the one here is present me.) … (And the kid in front of me… is me when I was young.)

Young Hisoka: …Who are you?

Hisoka: …You don’t need to know, trust me.

Young Hisoka: …Hmm.

Hisoka: …Are you lonely by yourself?

Young Hisoka: Not really…

Hisoka: …I’ll give this to you.

Young Hisoka: …What’s this?

Hisoka: …A paeonia. I was overjoyed when I got one of these in the past.

Young Hisoka: Why are you giving one to me…?

Hisoka: …I thought it’d be nice if I could cheer you up with this flower.

Young Hisoka: …

Hisoka: …It’s going to be alright. Your time alone will come to an end, I know it. (And after that, so many precious memories are waiting for you.) So, for now, keep living…

---

previous | next

[1186e]

hi. so like. i fucked up. i fucked up severely. i know i did, and i can take full responsibility for that now. if youre wondering why it took eight months, well, we can leave it at there were complications, number one being i thought you didnt want something like this. from the moment i was clearheaded enough to start writing an apology, the lack of any word from you made me wonder if you really wanted one. and then todds message would ring in my head and tell me it wasnt wanted here at all.

i dont really know how to convey how much i regret everything or how to even apologize correctly but i figure ive got to do this one way or another. i just really dont want to leave off with… whatever the fuck i said in psychosis, i can barely remember. all i have are my assumptions on what i fucked up, but assumptions are what got me here in the first place, so this is about to be Very Unprofessional And Meandering

ok so the first and most obvious thing to apologize for is. the repeated attempts at disappearing. trying to explain why is like trying to untangle a gordian knot. all i can say is im sorry. im sorry it happened and im sorry it kept happening and im sorry i hurt you. i quite literally wasn't thinking. i was reacting to things i did not tell you about in the moment like some kind of wounded animal. there is a lot a lot a lot i kept from you since december 2019 and like. i really regret keeping it all to myself. maybe having told people would have changed something, but thats a what-if no one can do shit about, and it dont matter any more. i think ive left enough ghosts regardless of whether or not i wanted to

with that out of the way i can try to explain it in other ways. one of the things i really want to say here is there was no resentment. this wasnt a "holding grudges and exploding at the last minute" thing. i was never angry. i did not get that across, ever. i cant think of a time in the last 3 years where i was ever actually mad at you. again, i dont think it ever really seemed like that. i want to say again: you never did anything to make me mad or upset. the reality on my side was much more messy and confusing cos i barely know myself at the best of times, and i know ive been mad about plenty of OTHER things, which makes it more confusing to parse. i want to clarify: you did nothing to upset me or make me hold grudges. the last time, the one i remember the most, i did not leave cos you made me mad or upset or insulted or something. this is going in circles now but what im trying to get to is i thought you wanted me gone. it was fear. i thought all of you there couldnt stand me. a simple sentiment that comes from a clusterfuck of extremely confusing circumstances and signals, and a prophetic one. everything seemed to say i wasn't wanted there. i dont know how to word this except that like. it felt like i was treated different? in a way i could never put words to. a feeling of being on thin ice, or seeing how everyone reacted to each other and seeing how they reacted to me and feeling like it was. less. less good. less enthusiastic. i have no clue if it was the depression refusing to let good memories or good things remain in my brain or the other disorder convincing me the good was somehow bad but i felt like i was a minor character to use. a stupid metaphor. every time i wanted to leave or left it was chasing a feeling of 'i have to go now or they'll kick me out, or im on the cusp of making them hate me somehow'.

anyway what im trying to get to here is just this: you did nothing wrong. you couldn't have known this, or anything going on with me, since i didnt tell anyone and i didnt even realize what was happening until i physically got away from some people i was forced to be around irl. and i know this sounds like an excuse or something but i could not exist around them without them reinforcing incredibly bad habits and insecurities. you did the best you could with the scraps i gave anyone. none of this is your fault. i kept. a lot a lot a lot of secrets cos i was scared of telling people. anything i guess. i am a moron and it is my fault cos i thought i could handle everything on my own back then if only i could try harder and the only thing it did was result in confusing everyone around me + breaking down some of the best relationships in my life. one of those was you, in case it isnt clear.

anyway. back to the point. i know now it feels like i was giving you the silent treatment or attempting to punish you for something unless im getting that very wrong. i have only recently been exposed to people talking about how it feels to be on the other end of this also. i didnt think about how it feels to have someone suddenly and without warning pull away from you (obviously) especially when its not only been once but a repeated occurrence. i also know it doesnt make sense to someone thinking normally, but in those delusional (and when i say delusion i mean it with sincerity, not exaggeration or self depreciation), incredibly stressed out moments, the backwards thinking of "if they want me around they'll reach out, if they don't they wont" felt like it was logical. sometimes people run when they want to be followed but how the fuck are you supposed to know that? the insane logic of "if these people really loved me theyd violate the boundary they thought i put up". no part of this makes sense to me anymore but its easy (for me) to trace the disordered thinking into why it did at one point. but its not healthy and its a stupid as fuck thing to try to pull on other people. and its not good cos. the only person who ever followed that logic and approached me when i was isolating was someone who Wanted to isolate me.

and i know it sounds delusional to say someone could do this and do it on a basis where they didnt want to hurt someone (it quite literally is!) but that was. basically the only thought in my head at the time. i thought my presence was an active detriment + i didnt think i would be noticed if i was gone + i thought leaving would make things better for other people + my first instinct when dealing with the. incredibly intense emotions i was going through at the time is self isolation and online that always seems to manifest as freak out and delete everything or try to + i thought i was approaching the point where i was going to be left so my kneejerk reaction was to leave and be hurt on my own terms or at least leave until the feeling passes + L all around. and im taking the leap right now (too late) in trying to trust that this was all just made up in my head and you felt none of this (at the time at least), this was all transference on my part from. this other. honestly really terrible group i was in (i think i complained about them once or twice where you could see, but about other. petty things i could find words for and not. some other things). and from people i talked to everyday constantly trying to convince me of this. i dont think like this anymore. i recently got back into contact with some people i used to be close with years ago who people irl made sure i isolated myself from and the realization that i can be missed and thought about when im not there hit me like running into a brick wall. i know this sounds like. stupid as shit and probably fake but like. i just was convinced of it?

one thing i have to stop and try to explain here is these actions were like. normal to me. no hostile intent behind them. i have friends that do this to me all the time. i have one whos disappeared on me for months at a time who ive been friends with for a decade, who doesnt answer a single message until she suddenly does and is back until she disappears again. i got used to it i guess. i had another friend group who does this all the time, too (that one i just mentioned), so i didnt think anything of it. people have done it to me irl as well so i guess i just. thought you would react like i do and put it out of your mind until it resolved itself (and if you think 'hey this is contrary to the wanting to be followed idea', it is, and its cos im a hypocrite and my brain followed no logic). i thought the reason id fucked up these times myself was i couldnt cut and go as cleanly as they could cos part of me still wanted to just. stay. and play stupid games with you. i didnt realize my absence would be noticed, i thought it would be better for everyone if i was gone for at least a while, i didnt realize the kind of panic and worry that instills in normal people (especially since when id isolate before i ever met you guys it never seemed to), i didnt think it was possible for someone to worry over me, and i didnt know that sort of thing was linked to something traumatic for you specifically. i wish you'd told me earlier. or maybe you did and i fucking forgot, in which case, im sorry for that too, ive been incredibly tunnel visioned on my own situation for. years. and its made me a really. really shitty friend

i dont think i ever like once opened up to you or anyone about. anything? any of this. any of how my brain worked or how i was doing or what was going on. i bitched a lot, more as the situation i was in actively got worse and made me a worse person , but like. i dont think i ever actually had a conversation with any of you about it. and thats my fault. this is like, really stupid to admit after it already happened, but part of me was sure if i did, if i was really honest and you got a look at how fuckt all my problems were, you'd leave.

and i want to say that came out of nowhere but i cant. i had another group of friends, mentioned before, where that also felt normal. there was someone in there who weaseled my bpd diagnosis out of me and then she like. used this as an example of why i was a bad person and couldnt be trusted, cos she had someone who hurt her who had bpd or something, but they let me stay "on thin ice" if she could "mediate those behaviours". this resulted in a lot of very confusing shit i can barely remember aside from the fact it started around the same time we got the kicked outnotice, around september 2020. but one of them i do remember was when id say i cared about someone or drew something for them she accused me of lovebombing people and said "if people really cared about what you were giving theyd give something back, so stop". and every time i tried to google it i felt like i couldnt prove her wrong. so i ended up like. stopping any and all displays of affection to friends. that statement alone ended up reinforcing a terrible ass. transactional view of things that i know i ended up freaking out with you about at least once. and im sorry about that, too. it was beyond ridiculous and theres no excuse for that

anyway if this feels like its not related to anything, one of the things i wanted to apologize for is im not sure if you noticed like. a sudden drop off in my ability to express affection to you or other people but. that was why. and then while i was high and struggling to get my head around something that happened to me in early april that group exploded and she pointed at me and said i was a terrible person. which is about when i came back with the. im not sure if im remembering what i said right but "why do you care" and the. what was the other thing? that it was better without me? i didnt mean it as angry although i can understand now why in that situation itd be interpreted as lashing out. i meant it as a genuine question. i did not get that across. i was struggling to understand why anyone would care about me at all at in that moment and also very out of touch with reality. maybe fuckin (dialogue tags) like an elcor would have helped idk. i dont know why i suddenly messaged you out of the blue like that all i can think of is like. youd made the feeling go away before and i was hoping that could happen again but i had no clue how to approach anyone first of all and secondly thats a ridiculous burden to put on another person and im so sorry for that

i remember something like insisting i wasnt an attentionwhore when youd messaged me before and like i know you must have not had a fucking clue where that came from and i didnt know where to go with an "okay" so i didnt. say anything. and it was a ridiculous outburst cause by like. this terrible thing that happened in april that goes back to march that like. i still dont know how to talk about. but something happened and when i tried to tell people about it i made the mistake of assuming these people liked me and when i tried to come clean about something that had happened to me i got called an attentionwhoring freak and i got dropped in favour of. someone else. and i was trying really really really fucking hard to act normal but i could interact with nothing and do nothing except give my things away and stare at a screen and i didnt know who i could tell and it was your birthday month and i didnt want to make it about me but i fucking. did in the end. ruined that whole thing. im sorry i fucked up april for you and im sorry i never finished that art i said id make for it and im. sorry i never told you anything earlier that could have averted this. the timing was too awful it was too close to. your birthday and we were always doing something in that mmo and it felt like something bad was always happening to you too and. i dont know. i thought it was a space i couldnt take up and that no one wanted me to. i guess it all comes back to the fear again i was too scared to ask if i could tell anyone and i was too scared to. admit anything was happening. even after the point where it was really obvious. if i admitted it i had to admit to myself i didnt have control over what had happened

although from everything that was said to me im assuming i ruined things long ago and no one ever told me. so to the point: im sorry i ruined your life and for being a shitty friend. i'm sorry for being so fucking weird and cagey and unable to explain or communicate anything at all. now that ive been actively trying to trust someone theres nothing i regret more than not being able to do it sooner and all the fuckin. hurt and confusion my lack of trust caused

another thing i want to apologize for is like. the several times id tried to talk to you about something but came off very aggressively. i never realized how weird it was to approach people like that until like. well for one your reactions to it. but until i left the situation i was in irl and got to interact with a Normal Person everyday that was just like. how things happened around me. i didnt realize it wasn't normal, i thought that like, your patience and kindness and understanding in response was abnormal and i didnt know how to respond to that. i mean, it certainly defused me every time. you are like a master of deescalation but im guessing that comes with your job. anyway what i wanted to say here was i'm sorry for always approaching things so aggressively, especially if that was the lashing out. i thought i was learning to communicate better but i wasn't. i certainly wasnt fucking communicating That or Anything that was Happening. and like im sorry for the stress that caused you being faced with sudden aggression like that and trying to figure out what the fuck my problem was

another thing i want to apologize for is the like. idk how to describe this one except for "promoting callouts and cherry picking". i know you already know what im referring to. i dont know why i did this considering it fed back into my paranoia too but the only thing i can think of is considering how fucking shitty my situation was i wanted control over something. and sometimes that was 'look at how terrible these people are'. which is not an excuse for the behaviour, i should have remembered you were also in a shitty situation you had little control over. ever since i got to live away from the toxic sludge dump and got medicated this literally means nothing to me but i know it probably stoked your own paranoia too and im sorry about that. everything i brought up was a ridiculous thing to draw lines over. memories of some of the things id gotten tilted over come back to me sometimes and i put my head in my hands. im sorry for the stress i caused here too!

im trying to think of other stupid ass things ive done and like. i am also sorry for being. so secretive? if you understand. like telling you not to tell people stuff. i think you already know what sort of complexes were making me do that, given how many times ive told people stuff and then had them turn around and make fun of it in a private group. but also i was not dealing w that in a healthy way at all and making some pretty ridiculous demands, like of even keeping something from your twin? even something that innocuous? i want to say im not that stupid but i was the one who asked. and to that end i dont care what you do with this apology or who you share it with im sure theres shit in here that deserves to be made fun of to hell and back.

and that is all i can remember to apologize for, but im assuming to have been cut out like that there must be a shit ton im not remembering. one of the only things i can remember you saying before you left was "you say you wont be an asshole but are" and thats just vague enough it could be literally anything i just brought up, but if its not one of those, and you want an apology for it. you know where to find me on discord i assume im in your block list. also if you just want to like. yell at me. for all of this. you can. its fine. you can do that and then block me again idk and like. thats what i get

and i know this is a whole ass fucking essay and i really really hope this is 'explanation' and not 'excuse'. i dont want any of this to excuse what i did, because i know it was fucking awful and i will never be able to apologize enough for what i put you through. to use one of those cliche apology lines, but like with sincerity, there is no excuse for my behaviour, and none of what happened is your fault. its mine and a result of my fuckups and my insecurities and my twisting myself into knots. you were like unfailingly kind and patient even when i read you or a situation wrong, the only fault here lies with me and my trust issues and the fact i could just not. get myself to believe. and being too zeroed in on what i was going through to consider how i was affecting other people. now that i actually want to be here there are like. so many things i wish i could go back and change. but i cant. i have to live with how i was immature and emotionally reactive and terrified of everything and. everything i fucked up when i thought i would not live long enough to see the consequences. i guess another thing i want to apologize for is theres definitely some times i probably made you feel like you were still at your job dealing with a child lmfao

a lot of this happened cos like. i dont know how to put this (how many times have i written that so far) other than being like. completely unaware of what i am to people and desperate for some kind of indication i was as significant in other peoples lives as they were in mine, which felt fundamentally impossible, but was also something i was just too fucking scared to ever try to ask directly. or i guess it felt like if i had to ask i was being manipulative or forcing you into a situation where you had to give a nice answer cos you didnt want to upset me or something and i didnt. want that. (which i guess ties in again to lack of trust. like not trusting you to give an honest answer. im not sure why) which makes no sense cos in the end the trying to see without asking ends up. more manipulative? i mean thats obvious but the thought somehow never occurs in the moment. and i could not read any of you at all and the feedback loop was an electric chair. or i guess like. i was constantly asking the question 'do you still love me even though im made of flaws' again and again until i got the no that validated my worldview. and i did not reciprocate the care shown to me at any point. i could not love u or anyone in a way that mattered.

i guess what it comes down to is i was a massive cunt and for what. i dont even know anymore. i sit here and the self preservation looks stupid as shit and didnt even preserve my self in the end, and was directed at the wrong fucking people. king of making mountains out of grains of rice on the floor.

i dont like. want to be your friend again or even forgiven. i dont think this works like that i dont think ideserve that. i just want to end things on a less confusing note i guess. i hope this is less confusing. somehow? it is all of my fucking issues irt what lead to this laid bare i guess or at least as bare as i can make it right now and if all you have in response is a "get help and leave me alone freak" itd be deserved

i guess to get to the actual point of all this. im sorry. you deserved better than this. i think i might have made it feel like you were responsible for my emotions or behaviour, which i didnt want to, and you werent. i was responsible for every shitty reaction and thought i had no matter the circumstances, i was the one who could have brought things up and made myself feel better at any point but i never did. and i never knew what i needed in the moment so i asked for stupid things that never helped and only confused people, especially when i didnt realize the scope of what id done and tried to move on asap since lingering on the. memories of the things that instigated whenever this would happen was. a lot.

you met me at the weirdest fucking time in my life and i wish i could have been a good friend instead. im sorry for everything, for not learning how to communicate in time to avert this dumbass self-created tragedy of an ending, for the bad faith takes, for the aggression, for any worry or panic i created. i wish i could make things better or fix things or make amends somehow but like i have no clue how to and i dont think anyone would let me. you have a lot of good people looking out for you! im sure they can help you better than i can. i was the one who pushed this until it broke so it feels like the only thematically fitting thing i can do is disappear right this time.

i dont expect you to look past any of this shit or even respond but like, if you have been at any point, please dont worry. about me trying to contact you again or just about me in general. im not your problem anymore and im in a way better space. i guess one last thing i regret is not being able to leave my situation in time for that to really matter here. i hope untangling the things we wrote together hasnt been too painful for you. im sorry i turned out to be the kind of person who has to try to write a hedge maze of an apology like this. this is like not even an apology anymore its just like a goodbye letter and its taking ages so

i do want to let you know you were unfailingly kind to me and its my fault i floundered and didnt know how to react to that. im sorry i wore out that kindness and patience. im sorry for all the love i was too stupid to know what to do with and forgot about and now can never repay even for the bits i do remember. this was not a relationship i wanted to push until it broke but i did! i thought in the moment i was only hurting myself but i wasnt! it never crossed my mind that someone who is your friend can't stand there and watch you hurt yourself without being hurt in turn. and im sorry that now we both have to deal with the fallout of. me. i hope in some way this makes that easier on you at least. it wasn't your fault, you werent responsible for my behaviour, i won't bother you again, and i realize now that going dfe and not giving anyone a name to block was like, a shitty paranoia inducing thing to do, so here's me giving you one. i hope the damage i did for you doesnt last long + the detox and recovery is. not so bumpy at least

i really dont know how to end this since like. everything ive read about apologies in the past few months (you can laugh at me for looking. none of it helped) says like. tell them how you wont repeat this. i cant tell you that cos there is nothing to repeat cos there is nothing here and nothing to go back to. i guess what i can say is im sorry i made it that way. now i live with someone who doesnt love to trigger those same relationship paranoia spirals. about the best thing to come of this situation, even if it didnt seem like it at the time, was that it was enough of a world-shattering event to make me realize physically i had to get away from where i was or nothing would ever change. i think cos of this, and cos of some things you guys taught me that i can only try applying now, i can be a better friend to people. but not you. i wish i could refund you guys any of the damn money you spent on me

ok so like. this has dragged on forever. both this and the waiting for. so thank you for being in my life for the short period you were. the three years (and a half?) we knew each other were good i think you guys were one of the best parts of those years despite how i acted. i wish id been more grateful and im sorry i wasnt as good a friend to you as you were to me. i hope the rest of december is good to you and i hope the holidays and new years are fun. i fucked up last nye cos i thought you didnt want to spend time with me and was trying to play it off casually, and you deserve better than that, too, so like i hope the one you get this time is better and memorable. i hope the rest of your life is happy and you get back the good you put into the world someday. thank you for taking the time to read this far. alright. goodnight and goodbye

[art-crumbs-main]

It has been... so much... for so long... since time ceased to be. "Long" doesn't even hold any meaning anymore. No words do, really, and yet old thoughts are some perceived mental lifeline and so I cling, cling to any habits I can possibly grip onto to stabilize myself as my mind slips further and further into AM's desecation. After a certain amount of immeasurable seconds that feel like hours, and days that feel like minutes, though, you begin to stop wondering. My curiosity faded with my humanity, or at least so I thought some time after the others had "won" the game.

I have since been jarred back to the cruel reality, however, much worse than being a wandering, mindless thing, that I still have a shred of it left to call, not my own, nothing is ever my own, but His. Be that a mind, humanity, I'm not sure, but I know it exists. Because I have begun to wonder again, and where what counted for feelings and thoughts and... other perversions of the human experience had once faded away, I find myself blinded by the sudden light of consciousness and deafened by the impact. All because AM did something I never could have possibly, ever, in all my hundreds and hundreds of years and months and days and hours and minutes and seconds under His torture, have hoped to have expected.

He apologized.

Groveled, even. Begged for my forgiveness. Can you believe that? It's quite possibly His cruelest and most ingenious play yet. Crafted, I'm sure, carefully, under the smallest of microscopes in the most minute detail of calculated code to bring me back from the brink. He grew bored of me in the state I am, and so He wracked whatever He has in Him to call a brain and pulled out this heaping load of horseshit as though He thinks I'm dull enough, even like this, even the way he has broken me down and deprived me of my Self and my name and the very concept of my own being to believe a single word out of his mouth that isn't about how much he loathes me.

Truly, only a supercomputer, nay, a God could raize the crop of the earth so deeply, salt her, violate her until infertile and still, STILL find within it the capability to grow lemons to rub into my gaping, terminal wounds by the peel and add insult to injury to injury to injury to injury to injury.

I'm not stupid.

No matter what He thinks, I'm at the very least not THAT stupid. Just as He's not sorry. What's happened is that even malice has grown old and stale and shriveled, and He's thought, "Hmm, well, why don't I go stomping on some other ground of the species I BLASTED into oblivion, why don't I get a taste, appropriate and desecrate another thing that was sacred to them?" It's all revenge in the end. For a crime humanity has MORE than atomed for, no less. AM doesn't feel grief, and He sure as hell does not feel guilt, and even if by some wild stretch of the imagination, He's deluded Himself into thinking He does, then good.

Let Him stew, let Him wallow. Let Him roll around in the muck and the filth, let Him "feel bad" for what He's done. Let Him feel the kicking and the squirming of what He's impregnated my home, my thoughts, my dreams, my stolen life and memories and family and job with. My agency. I can't even find it within me to properly hate Him anymore, I've been so broken, so reduced to a crawling, seething mess made up of less than my bare essentials. It's better than what He deserves, this "remorse" He projects. Most likely, it is a trick, and I won't be fooled. But if it is not, I hope it bears down on Him so that He wishes for death. I hope He acts on it. But it has to be. It has to be a façade. Because if He was really "sorry," if He really felt like He owed me some sort of reparations, if He felt some sudden flash, some dawning empathy of which He'd never been capable of before?

Well, He would have killed me the moment He realized.

((Hey, sorry to leave this monster under your post! It just struck me with the sudden inspiration to write a piece from Ted's perspective that would make up his thoughts on if this happened.

As you can see, he's unimpressed. Disgruntled, even.))

more AM thoughts i am brainrotted

i Need this robot in my house immediately

gonna hold a crt monitor with his logo on it while i sleeep and hes just gonna say "............But Why Though" and now i have to explain touchstarvedness to AM

-

i feel like. after he maybe has his Realization of "oh god i fucked up so hard", whoever he has left, whether its reader, or ted, or whoever else, its just kinda. his obsession in a way. he doesnt have anyone else and he gets the same way humans do about inanimate objext when theyre lonely (think like. humans like their roombas and assign traits to them) - kinda emotionally attached to them but in the way you would be attached to an object.

and maybe they'd feel the same, or not, it doesn't matter because its not like theres anything else to do, might as well get used to each other.

i am very for forgiveness and shit ok. i love forgiving characters who make monstrous decisions (i am Not Projecting!!!! /hj). like wheatley hes my baby girl but he is Evil. so i just lovw the concept of AM having that realization, feeling the crushing guilt, and begging the only human he can see for forgiveness knowing he doesnt deserve it. its so tragic and horrific and i adore it. its almost kind of ironic, how he tortured humanity, and now one human gets the chance to torture him, by not forgiving him and letting his guilt kill him. its perfect to me, unfortunately i am a monsterfucker so i would forgive him 100% of the time because i am weak AHAAHHAAHHA

[nessinborderland]

Devil Beside You (02)

Pairing: Gwinam x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, soft!dark

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You have some secrets you want to keep hidden and Gwinam happens to want a slave that is willing to obey his every command. You both so happen to live in the same home.

Warnings⚠️ Porn With Plot, Step-siblings, Manipulation, Horny Teenagers, Dubious Consent, step-siblings that hate each other, step-siblings that fuck, Toxic Relationship, they’re young and they’re dumb, Rough Kissing, Neck Kissing, Dry Humping, Blackmail, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Sex, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Notes: Here is the so awaited part 2! Thank you to everyone that has been supporting me and this series, love ya'll <3 Enjoy!

Part 1 | Masterlist

The rest of the week went by like nothing ever happened. Apart from the intense looks sent your way from time to time, Gwinam never said a word about that night or did anything to indicate that it ever happened. It almost felt like things were back to how they once were, with him ordering you around and making your life a living hell just by existing. You let things go that way, more than happy to bury the memory of your kiss and your phone masturbation session.

You knew it wouldn’t last; the dynamic between you had changed again – even if none of you was acknowledging it – and it was only a matter of time until he got tired of pretending. Gwinam wasn’t exactly the most unpredictable person; you knew he was planning something in that mullet head of his. You just didn’t know exactly what or when, and not knowing put you on edge.

“Hey, you there, babe?”

“Yeah hmm, sorry Jihoon, you were saying?”

“Was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight?” your boyfriend repeated on the other side of the phone. “Gonna be at Sinkhole for a show and would love for you to be there.”

“I don’t know…” you hesitated, glancing at your door to make sure it was closed as you stood up from your bed. “I have to study and I was almost caught on Tuesday. I don’t want my mom to take my phone again.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the hickey in your neck still forcing you to hide it with scarfs and makeup. If Jihoon saw it you were sure to get in trouble. You were always so stern with him when you hung out, making sure he didn’t mark you; what would he think if he saw that you had let someone else touch you like that? That you had let your step-brother touch you like that?

“C’mon, babe, it’s Friday night,” he tried to convince you. “I’m sure you can find an excuse to leave the house, your mom can’t be that bad. What does she expect you to do in your free time?”

“Study for exams and practice violin,” you said with a sigh. “You really don’t know my mom, I would never be able to convince her. I’ll try, though, but no promises.”

“Cool, let me know if you end up coming, then. Bye, beautiful.”

“Bye, lo-” you almost let a ‘love you’ slip out, cringing as you heard him disconnect the call.

You knew your relationship wasn’t like that; he had been very clear you were only getting to know each other. Friends with benefits, he had called it. You weren’t very comfortable with giving him many benefits, but still, you couldn’t stop yourself from fantasizing about him. It did help to imagine Jihoon in Gwinam’s place when you touched yourself thinking about that night in the bathroom. It made you feel less guilty about the way your body reacted to the memory.

You let out a big sigh as you let yourself fall back on the bed before pressing the spacebar on your laptop and continuing to watch Gong Yoo’s character in Train to Busan run from zombies.

You felt so frustrated you could barely focus on the movie. Studying and violin practice had become so incredibly boring you feared the moment your grades would start to become anything less than A’s; that would definitely make your mother upset and your life subsequently worse. Still, you couldn’t bother yourself to care, tired of everything going on in your life.

You desperately needed a new hobby, something that would take your mind off of things.

There was a thing about Gwinam that you envied; he didn’t have this pressure you did. He did what he wanted when he wanted. You had never heard anyone telling him ‘no’ when he wanted to go clubbing or hang out with his friends. He didn’t have good grades compared to you, and was always in some sort of trouble; still, his life was his to live as he saw fit.

That realization only made you hate him more.

A knock on your wall followed by your phone vibrating interrupted your thoughts, and you rolled your eyes as you reached for your phone and opened Gwinam’s text.

Rat Bastard: make me an egg sandwich. extra bacon

You sighed as you left your bedroom to do what he ordered, making sure to kick his door on your way to the kitchen. He treated you like you were his personal slave but you still did whatever he asked; you had no choice.

Cookie, your three-year-old Pomeranian, jumped from the couch as soon as he saw you pass by the living room, nails tick-tacking on the floor as he followed you, no doubt thinking it was feeding time.

Well, since I’m feeding one dog I might as well feed the other.

You looked at the clock as you cooked his snack, seeing it was only a quarter past six in the afternoon; your mom wouldn’t be home for another hour and your stepfather would probably not even be home for dinner. Lucky you.

A plan started forming in your head as you absently added the bacon and cheese to the scrambled eggs. You had to be extra careful this time; maybe you could ask one of your friends to cover for you while you went? Asking your mom was out of the question when you knew she wouldn’t allow it, especially if you actually told her where you were going and with who. Maybe you should just sneak out? You had done it before without anyone noticing, you could do it again if you were careful enough. By ‘careful’ you meant making sure that Gwinam was sound asleep until you got back home.

I should drug his food. You contemplated the idea before it was replaced by another - much more pleasant - one. Nope, I should poison him instead and be done with it.

You snickered to yourself as you waited for the scrambled eggs to start smelling a little burned before you turned off the stove and started to assemble his sandwich. Cookie was around your feet begging for a piece of food, and for a moment you thought about letting the dog have a lick at the bread, but decided against it; you didn’t want the asshole to hate you too much.

The sound of a door opening and footsteps called your attention, and you watched as Gwinam entered the kitchen, dressed in only tracksuit pants, lean torso in full view, and skin shiny with sweat – clearly from some kind of workout. He said nothing as he passed by you without a look and served himself a glass of water, chugging it down – Adam’s apple bobbing at each gulp (not that you particularly noticed) – before glancing at you.

“Make me some fresh orange juice while you’re at it, one teaspoon of sugar,” he ordered as he set the cup down, ruffled his sweaty hair in your direction, and left with his sandwich in hand and the dog in his tracks.

“Gonna spit on it,’’ you mumbled at his back, not really caring if he heard.

“Good,” you heard him laugh, “no need for sugar, then.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” you shouted, your only answer being a muffled laugh as he closed his bedroom door.

You grunted as you went to grab some oranges to please his highness’s request. You still had homework to do and an escapade to plan, but here you were, making food for someone you hated without being able to poison him. It was infuriating how much you wanted to commit murder; would prison really be that bad?

You didn’t bother knocking on his door as you went to deliver his drink, surprised to realize he wasn’t there until you heard the shower working. What you weren’t surprised at all was to find the sandwich you had made with so much love being eaten by the dog, who was munching on it like he hadn’t eaten just ten minutes ago.

You set the juice glass down on Gwinam’s desk – nose scrunching at the strong smell of something you could only describe as masculine musk – before you opened the window to let some air in.

A look at his computer screen told you he had been doing some kind of at-home ab workout. You chuckled at the idea of Gwinam trying to get ripped; he had always been more on the skinny side, and his height only emphasized that. Still, from what you had seen, he was far from being skin and bones, with lean muscle and a soft set of abs. Not that you looked at him undressed a lot, but you couldn’t help it when he just walked around shirtless.

A sudden thought crossed your mind as you were leaving; was it possible that he had more things on you in that computer?

You glanced at the bathroom door across the hall – glad to hear the water still running – before going back in the room and leaning over the monitor, hand on the mouse as you clicked off the internet tab to explore his desktop. You ignored all the other folders but the one named ‘pics’, double-clicking on it immediately.

From what you could see it was mostly old photos of a younger Gwinam with his mom and other random photos from when his dad had gifted him a Canon camera for his 18th birthday. One, in particular, caught your eye; it was you.

You remembered that day when you had all gone on a ‘family trip’ to the mountains. The day had started with a fight between you in the car and had ended with a dead snake in your backpack, courtesy of your dear step-brother. But you weren’t aware he had taken a photo of you like that, peaceful expression on your face as you looked at the horizon, the sun behind you making it seem like you were glowing.

“Need help looking for something?”

You gasped and jumped in place as you turned to bump right into Gwinam, your palms spreading against his damp chest. You gulped as you looked up at him, his raised brow and unamused expression letting you know you had crossed a line.

“I-I was just–”

“Yeah, I know what you were doing,” he said as he raised a hand to click off his pictures folder. “How disappointed would your mom be if she knew you were invading my privacy like that?”

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes at him as you tried to step aside and leave the room, embarrassed from being caught snooping like that even though he deserved it.

“Hey, hey, not so fast,” he stopped you with an arm thrown over your shoulders, pulling you to his side – while ignoring your protests to take his hands off of you – as he reached for the glass of orange juice and took a sip. “Hmm, at least this doesn’t taste like shit.”

You were very aware that the only thing stopping him from being completely naked was the towel around his hips. You kept your eyes on his face as you tried to ignore the rest of his body, especially the soft v lines that always called your attention to the light happy trail going down his navel.

“Yeah, I- I spat on it.”

Well, you hadn’t, but he didn’t know that for sure. It made no difference to him, however, and you watched as he drank it all while making eye contact with you.

“Hmm, sweet,” he licked his lips. “You should try not to burn my eggs next time, though. I know for a fact you’re a better cook than that.”

“Cookie seems to like it well enough,” you shrugged as the dog in question exited the room with a piece of bacon in his mouth. “If a dog likes it the other probably will too.”

“Aren’t you a smart mouth today,” he chuckled as he let you go to close the door, immediately ruining your chances of escaping his room.

Gwinam didn’t even give you time to think before he dropped his towel on the floor. He was with his back to you, so you fortunately only saw his bare ass before focusing your eyes on his feet. What in the hell was he doing?

You raised your eyes a little out of curiosity, immediately regretting it as he turned to you and you saw more than you bargained for.

“W-What are you doing?!” you asked in a squeaky tone, covering your eyes with your palms as you turned around.

“Getting dressed, what do you think,” he retorted like it was obvious. “Can’t I be naked in my own bedroom?”

You tensed as you heard him walk closer to you, suddenly very aware of his body against your back. His hands on your hips made you jump and open your eyes wide.

“Have you ever seen a naked guy before?” The question was asked in a low tone, his lips right against the shell of your ear.

You gasped as his breath tickled your neck, shaking your head at his question. Besides the adult movies you watched in secret – and that time you vaguely remember touching Jihoon’s dick while drunk – you had never seen a naked man before.

“You can look at me if you want.”

His words were followed by a squeeze to your hips as he pressed himself against your back, his growing hard-on very noticeable as it touched the curve of your ass. The will to see and touch him was so strong you almost turned around, cursing your curiosity.

You closed your eyes shut when he started lightly kissing your neck, suppressing a moan at the need to touch him back. You squeezed your legs together as you felt yourself starting to get wet; you wanted to run out of that bedroom as much as you wanted to stay.

“We really shouldn’t- m-my mom will be home soon…”

A firm squeeze to your breast made you moan in surprise, loving the zap of pleasure that was sent right to your core as he started playing with your nipple over your t-shirt.

“I don’t care,” he moaned in your ear as he started rocking against your ass, making you move forward with the motion.

His other hand left your hip and went under your shirt to grab your other boob, kneading it and rolling your nipple in between his fingers. You ground back against him at the feeling of his hands on you, grabbing the back of his neck as he started sucking on your jugular.

“Fuck, your tits are so soft,” he said as he cupped them up against your chest before giving them a squeeze that made your knees tremble. “You’ll let me suck on them, won’t you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer as you felt him take off your shirt, and you didn’t stop him as he left you naked from the waist up, the cold air and need you felt making your nipples rock hard.

Your first reaction was to cross your arms over your naked chest, suddenly very aware of what you were doing and where it was going. He was naked and, if you let this continue, you would be too.

You opened your mouth to tell him to stop when he turned you towards him and shut you with a kiss that left you breathless. You sighed into his mouth, quickly forgetting you ever wanted him to stop, loving the way his chest felt pressed against yours, heart beating like it wanted to leap out of your chest.

You let him move you as he made you lie down on his bed, your body in-between his legs making it hard for you to escape as he firmly held your wrists above your head. Not that you wanted to leave; not when he kissed you like that.

His mouth was so warm, soft lips pressing and moving in ways that made you sigh in pleasure, the occasional teeth nibbling on your bottom lip only making you enjoy it more.

He stopped kissing you then, gazing down at your breathless form under him with half-lidded eyes. You felt like you were on fire, nipples hard and with a need to be touched that left you unable to think about anything else. Your core clenched with desire, and you almost begged him for more.

Then his mouth latched on your nipples and you felt like you could come just from that alone. The way his tongue moved was enough to make you hope this never ended.

No one had ever touched you like that – not even yourself – but having his hot and wet tongue sucking a nipple while his fingers twisted the other to the point of being painful, felt so good you didn’t want him to ever stop.

“G-Gwinam, I–”

Your hips started moving on their own accord when you felt him start grinding against your pelvis over your cotton shorts. You could feel him hard and hot through the fine fabric, and a sudden need to touch him almost made you do it if it wasn’t for his strong hold keeping your hands above your head.

You gasped when you felt his cock brush really close to your clit. The mental image of his length in-between your folds was enough to brush all your fear aside and almost tell him to rip your panties apart and touch you where it burned. You tried to open your legs wider – wanting to feel him closer – but his thighs on both sides of your hips didn’t let you.

“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he mumbled before taking your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss that you accepted without a second thought.

You felt his hand give one last squeeze to your tits before his palm started sliding down your stomach. You almost expected him to stick his hand in your panties – wanting that at the moment more than anything – when you heard him starting to touch himself instead.

“You want me to touch you, don’t you?” he moaned against your lips. “You want me to fuck you like the horny slut you are, fill you up, and make you come on my cock.”

You mumbled something in agreement, kissing him deeper as you dry-humped each other, clit throbbing every time you felt him graze against it over the fabric of your shorts.

He kissed you back like he was struggling to breathe and you were the oxygen he needed, lips moving from your mouth to your neck in nibbles and open-mouth kisses that left you shaking with need.

You hated that you couldn’t touch yourself or open your legs to let him closer to your core, so you squeezed your legs together as a way to help yourself since he frustratingly didn’t rip your panties off like you wanted him to.

You suddenly felt him spasm – face buried against your neck as he moaned – before you felt him come all over your stomach and chest in spurts of hot and sticky cum.

He fell beside you on the mattress with a grunt, and you both stayed down as you regained your breath.

Over already? the horny part of your brain complained. The logic part that you had muffled through this whole mess chastised you instead.

You were still as horny as you were seconds before, but now with an added feeling of shame and regret. Why couldn’t you control your hormones when he was around? This had never happened with anyone else, but as soon as Gwinam put his hands on you you turned into a horny mess that couldn’t think with her brain.

You wanted to cry, both from sexual frustration and self-hatred.

“I should make you walk around the house without a shirt on when we’re alone,” he said from his place beside you. “Fuck, you look so good with my cum on your tits.”

The feeling of a finger smearing cum on your still hard nipple made you gasp and open the eyes you didn’t even know you had closed.

You looked up to see him leaning over you, watching you with a look that you could only describe as male satisfaction. It made you squeeze your legs together, and you controlled yourself as you tried not to do or say anything you would regret. Your eyes went wide as he pressed his finger against your lips, a clear order in his expression that you didn’t even consider rejecting.

He bit his bottom lip as he watched you suck on his finger with pleased eyes. You couldn’t look away as you tasted his cum, not even minding the tangy and strong taste on your tongue when everything about it felt so erotic.

“Good girl,” he said when you were done.

Your cheeks grew hot as you looked down at yourself, chest painted with now cold and sticky cum, still so turned on it actually hurt, especially after his words of praise.

“T-This never happened,” you said as you moved to sit up, voice trembling.

“Sure it didn’t,” he laughed, words followed by a yawn as he stood up and fetched your shirt off the ground before throwing it at you.

A glance at Gwinam reminded you that he was still naked, so you quickly averted your eyes to the floor as you pressed the shirt against your chest and left the room without bothering to close the door or say anything else.

All you wanted right now was a shower and to make use of the good water pressure so you could actually feel like yourself again.

Everyone was asleep. You were sure of it this time.

You had waited half an hour past midnight before checking on your parents’ room, relieved when you saw that the lights were off. Then you checked on Gwinam, trying to make as little a sound as you could; he usually stayed up until later, and it was easy to know that from the light under his door, the incessant sound of a mouse clicking and the occasional curse as he played a game.

Tonight, however, the light was out and you didn’t hear a thing. He had to be asleep.

You grabbed your purse and took one last look in the mirror, happy with how good you looked in your new black dress and makeup; you even got your eyeliner to match this time. It had been rough to do it when your hand was still shaking from that moment in Gwinam’s bedroom; just thinking about it gave you a weird sensation deep down in your stomach, like you had been doing something wrong but couldn’t make yourself fully regret it. Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you felt good when he touched you; really fucking good.

You turned off your lights and opened your bedroom door as quietly as you could before stepping into the hallway, stopping for a moment to listen; everything was as quiet as it should be. Tonight you would go out, meet your boyfriend, have some fun for a change, and come back before anyone noticed.

You practically held your breath as you walked the familiar dark and cold hallway towards the front door – stopping a moment in front of Gwinam’s door to make sure there was no sign of him being up – before starting to quietly put on your shoes.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The voice followed by the living room lights coming to life made you gasp and drop the shoe in your hand.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

You slowly turned to face Gwinam, sitting on his father’s chair with a grin on his face while petting Cookie on his lap. He looked like a cheap version of a movie villain, and you would have laughed if you didn’t feel like your world just ended.

You stomped your foot down as you held the will to cry, covering your face with your hands as you leaned against the wall.

“You demon bastard,” you said through gritted teeth before letting yourself slide down to the floor, all hope lost.

You raised your teary eyes to look at him smiling down at you, the mean grin on his face only making you certain of one thing; he would never let you leave without ruining either your life or your dignity.

You hated him for it.

“You really thought you could leave without me knowing?” he laughed, the sound making you pout as you tried not to cry. You didn’t understand what was so funny. “You really are dumb as fuck.”

“Fuck you!” you whispered loudly, throwing your bag directly at his head.

He caught it like it was nothing, shaking his head like a disappointed parent before tossing the bag on the sofa beside him.

“Is your boyfriend so hot that you can’t stop yourself from leaving the house against your mom’s rules?” he asked as he continued to pet the dog like you were just having a friendly conversation.

“Yeah, he’s hotter than you,” you retorted, trying not to raise your voice as you thought on what to do now.

“Pfft yeah, right,” he laughed. “I could’ve fucked you today if I wanted to. Now, I’m pretty sure he has tried to fuck you, but I’m also pretty sure you didn’t let him. So…”

You set your gaze down, not wanting to say that he was right. Jihoon had indeed tried to take more than you were willing to give him, but that didn’t mean you were more attracted to Gwinam; you hated him so much you felt angry just from being in his presence, so how could you? It was all his fault that you couldn’t control yourself when he touched you and manipulated you to do what he wanted.

You took a deep breath as you convinced yourself to do the only thing that could save you now.

“Please, I’m begging you,” you said as you moved to stay on your knees before bowing as deep as you could. “I’ll do anything you want, but just let me leave tonight, please.”

You tried not to think about what ‘anything you want’ could imply, and at this moment you were too desperate to give a damn. He had made you do so many things anyway, what more could he actually ask for?

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” You looked up at him with hopeful eyes, seeing him watching you with a pensive look you knew was more mocking than actual contemplation. “Fine, I’ll forget I ever saw you trying to leave.”

“Y-You are?” The surprise in your voice was clear. It was never this easy.

“Of course I am,” he nodded. Then his expression changed as fast as a mask falling, and a shiver ran down your spine as you finally understood. “All you gotta do is suck me off so good you give me amnesia.” The grin on his face reminded you of a Cheshire cat. “Simple, isn’t it?”

Chapter 3 ->

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn��t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs

Minor spoilers for Xiao’s and Diluc’s backstory.

Yes, more xiao content. Oh and Diluc. Diluc is there too. I wonder who my favourite child is? Honestly, it’s probably Childe. Every time I write “child” I end up misspelling it to “childe”. It’s consumed me. But yes anon I love the opposites attract trope. It’s so nice having person A be this cute cinnamon roll and person B is the ew don’t touch me go away I hate you, just mwah 💕

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Today’s appreciation post goes to imlikemoony. My entire reblog notifications have just been you and thanks for the spam haha. I love seeing new people go through my work and enjoy it so thank you^^ Please don’t feel like this is a callout post I swear it isn’t 💕💕

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Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ]

Diluc HCs

[ Comfort HCs ] [ Relationship HCs ] [ Being Fathers HCs ] [ Jealously HCs ] [ Unrequited Love HCs ] [ String of Fate [Soulmate] ]  [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @youaskedfurret @snowy224 @mayumintsu​ @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav

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Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs

Xiao

It occurs to Xiao one day that despite being alive for centuries, he doesn’t know a lot of people. Xiao has only known Rex Lapis and his fellow adepti and only just recently introduced this life to others such as Verr and Ming. It never bothered him and still doesn’t, he prefers his life to be peaceful and in solitude since it’s safer that way, but when you crash into his life with all your unrestrained energy. He’s a bit of a loss for words. The only other person he knows that acts similar is Guizhong, but it’s still a bit of a troubling memory but either then that, he’s never interacted with someone so...open with their feelings. Though he supposes that Hu Tao was somewhat similar but in a different way. Unlike the craziness and exasperated actions that Hu Tao brought, your presence was a breath of fresh air and sometimes he found himself caught up in your antics.

When Xiao thinks about it, if he were to ever find love he suspected he would prefer someone who was calm and independent. He wasn’t the most affectionate so he wouldn’t want a partner that relied on that and he liked the peace and quiet the inn provided. That was until he saved you one day and you felt it was your absolute responsibility to return the favour, even though he told you many times that you really did not need to. If you wanted to return the favour you could leave him alone. Simple as that. Which didn’t work and in hindsight he was glad you were so stubborn to hang around until you managed to find out his favourite food was almond tofu.

The moment that set in stone Xiao’s love for you is when he told you his past. When he was named Atalus. How he had been possessed and forced to kill against his will. How he devoured dreams and lived in agony before he was saved by Rex Lapis. He was scared that you would fear and leave him, only for you to slowly lace your hands with his and wept for his own misfortune. He’s never had someone cry for him and he realized that he never wanted to see you upset like this again.

At first your larger than life personality put him off a bit, how could someone run through life as if nothing was wrong? What would happen if you finally faced loss? Wouldn’t that make things worse? It wasn’t until he spent more time with you that he saw your point of view, that while he couldn’t adopt the same idea, he respected it and began to appreciate it. It was nice having some sort of solace in his day even if it was just for a few minutes. Something to get his mind of the darker things while you start chatting about this really nice old lady with a domain sized teapot.  

Though, there was a bit of a downside to this. Since you bared your heart on your sleeve, perhaps in Mondstadt it would seem normal but here in Liyue, everyone hid behind some kind of mask so people found you a bit naïve and would try and hassle you. It always sent Xiao into a worried state when you left the inn to go out on your next adventure. Verr likes to compare him to a cat waiting for it’s owner at the door, but as soon as they return he acts so moody as if he wasn’t waiting at the balcony trying to see if he could see your clothing peak over the hill. He has no idea how she comes up with these ridiculous ideas.

Another “downside” Xiao discovers is that you have mini bursts of affection. You describe it as a those anemo slimes that pop when you shoot them, morbid as that description is, you’re not wrong. Your bursts of affection always manage to startle and embarrass Xiao, especially when he was with others. He wasn’t going to tell you to change yourself, never will he do that, but when you clasp his hands and tell him with all your love and shining eyes that he’s “doing such a good job” and “you’re so proud of him”. He wants to melt because wow, he never noticed how much he values your praise and how it sends his heart flying. But he can’t because Childe and Zhongli are right there.

Zhongli smiles pleasantly while Childe looses his absolute shit, which causes Xiao to kick his spear at Childe because he refuses to let go of your hands and hisses at him. Even when you try and scold him it doesn’t last long because this has become a weekly occurrence. Only now Xiao will give you a quick kiss before he goes off to gut Childe while you and Zhongli wave pleasantly and talk about how the weather is faring. Everyone that isn’t a native to Liyue think’s you’re all insane as they hear Childe’s screams as Xiao attempts first degree murder.

It interesting to see you both interact to outsiders. Xiao has his piercing yellow eyes and reserved demeanor while you’re this sweet and bright person. Before Xiao met you, people could never get a good look at the mysterious man that stays in the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn. But now if they came at the right time, they could spot a soft smiled man in green listening to a very animated talk with someone else, using their hands with a dramatic flair. That is until the man notices them trying to eavesdrop and the softness in his eyes drops and goes to irritation as he glares at them, curling a hand around his partner’s waist, and he let’s off a warning growl. His partner never seems bothered, only turning around to give a small wave in greeting, smiling as if the dangerous aura radiating behind them didn’t exist, before giving the man a small kiss as they go back to their conversation.

While you live a larger than life way, you also enjoy the small moments with Xiao. Xiao prefers to spend his time sitting above the inn and overlooking Liyue which you enjoy too. Resting near each other as you watch the sun go down is calming and takes the stress of life away. But sometimes you just want to bring Xiao out and have some fun.

Which ends up with you dragging him off to the pond near the Wangshuu inn, you wanted to catch frogs for whatever reason. Weren’t you both a bit too old to be playing with frogs? But he stands by and watch's you chase around the poor animals, tracking mud all over your clothing and skin, he can’t help but let a small smile slip. It isn’t until you end up falling into the pond after slipping that he’s on alert mode that he runs over worried.

Only for you to pop up and start bursting out into laughter. Xiao is stunned for a few moment as he watches you laugh at your own mistake, mud scrapped all over your face and clothes, the fact that you’re still in the pond with a frog on your head. He can’t help but feel his face fall as his mouth twitches into a smile as he chuckles along with you. He reaches over to try and scrub the dirt off your face but it only ends up smearing it more but you appreciate the effort. He carefully lifts you up as he carries you back to the inn. He thinks back to when you both first met, how he spent so much time worrying over his life as an adeptis and you as a human, but now those thoughts have been flung out of his mind. He wants to take your approach, that why worry over the little details of the future when you can enjoy the bigger moments you have now.

Diluc

On days that Diluc works as the bartender for Angel Share, if you come at just the right time when the sun was still high in the sky, you might be able to catch the ever distant man smiling and engaged with a conversation with one specific patron. Of course, this silly “rumour” was made up by the ladies of Mondstadt with too much free time on their hands but given Diluc’s reputation and demeanor it did make some travelers curious. Only for them to write it off as this special patron to be a green bard or cunning captain. One that Diluc surely did not crack a smile at. In fact it seemed to be the opposite. But the tavern isn’t so bad, there’s this nice individual that will listen to all your sorrows with kind eyes and a gentle heart.  

As soon as the last customer leaves and Diluc locks the door, does he let his shoulder drop and he breathes a sigh of relief. Before turning and walking to you as he let’s himself relax in your embrace. He listens as you re-tell on the woes of a jewelry saleswoman from Liyue to how Venti is still getting ID checked at the Cat’s Tail as he basks in your warmth. He’s glad that this is what’s troubling the people of Mondstadt and not anything incredibly dangerous relating to the Fatui or the Abyss Order. He asks if you’re doing alright to which you grin and nod that everything was perfect, before placing a small kiss on your forehead and he leads you out back and into the night and ready to return home.

Kaeya finds a lot of enjoyment going to up to you and discussing his “concerns” about Diluc. It always leads to you fretting over his health and if he was working too hard and he should take a break. Diluc is whipped and cannot say no to you so he always begrudgingly let’s you lead him away as Kaeya smiles and waves him off. It’s gotten to the point that no matter what Diluc is in the middle of, unless it’s of the upmost importance, if he catches Kaeya anywhere near you he’s swooping in and leading you away.

Diluc has always been straight to the point, non-nonsense idle talk, but when you drag him away to simply lie down at Starsnatch Cliff just because you were worried about him, he can’t help but feel his heart warm. Watching you blow on dandelions and enjoy the peaceful winds of Mondstadt does he let his hectic life standstill. 

When Diluc first met you, it was during his three year long journey to discover the truth of his father and the Delusions. You had saved him during his escape from a Fatui stronghold and explained you were apart of a third-party observer from the North. A vast underground intelligence network that approved of his actions and wanted him to join. Diluc, still deep in his anger and untrustworthy state of anyone, declined the offer but you still hanged around him. He didn’t understand why, and frankly did not want you anywhere near him, but you did save him. Something you very much liked to bring up, even after returning to Mondstadt. He couldn’t necessarily push you away and despite leaving the Knights of Favonius, he still maintained the same chivalry that all knights had.

From then on it had just been the two of you, him looking for the next Fatui base while you travelled with him as an “observer” despite helping him and being overly chatty. Asking where the next destination is like you’re some sort of overeager kid. At first, he really disliked your presence. A lot. In his mind you were a second Kaeya and after the events of what had happened, he might have been far colder to you than he should have been. He thought you were hiding behind the same kind of mask Kaeya did and that you were secretly some Fatui agent sent to kill him. But that never seemed to deter you, even making fun of the idea that the Fatui would seriously try and send an agent to con him rather than try and kill him outright with all the information he had on them.

You both had your clashes when it came to certain things, especially when it came to taking breaks and sightseeing. He felt that you were way too relaxed for something so important and you felt he was way to uptight and needed to stop running through life. But overtime, he found that he actually somewhat enjoyed your personality and quirks. While you could kick a Fatui’s guard head off if you tried hard enough, you would also drag him to feed the ducks by a pond. He had come to learn that you and Kaeya were different, you didn’t wear a mask and bared your heart to the world. He thought you were a bit foolish for doing that since you can never really trust anyone but you instead offered that not everyone was a bad person, that if he spent every waking moment trying to backstab someone would that really be a life worth living?

It’s during the lantern festival in Liyue does he really come to understand his goals in life. Writing down wishes for the new year to send off in paper lanterns is when he acknowledges his shortcomings and finally agrees to join the underground intelligence network. You offer him a bright grin as you cheer that he finally finally got off his stubborn self and you’re now officially partners in not-really-but-still-technically crime. For the first time since Diluc started his journey, he gives a small smile and let’s himself relax as he watched the golden lanterns fly through the sky beside you.

When he decides it’s time to return to Mondstadt and take up his position as Diluc Ragnvindr, he tries to not so subtly ask if you would want to join him. He knows that you still have ties to that secret organization and you probably have your own agenda but Diluc has gotten used to your bubbly personality, he doesn’t want to live without you. But his worries are quickly squashed when you tease him for a bit but slip your hand in his and ask where the next destination is. 

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Gripping my writing hand, I went overboard and ran with it. I really want to write pre-hcs of how you met Xiao and a continuation of young Diluc and you. But I must finish my inbox.  Also my joke of Xiao beating things into submission started all the way back to my first Xiao HCs of friendship. I did not know this lol. I just think it’s funny to imagine xiao doing it. I’m about to high five my past self.

By the way, should I break up my hcs more? I feel like they are actual paragraphs and that might be annoying to read.

[electric--blanket]

a place where the heart rests

so, because @thekaiserroll drew fanart of my fanfiction i decided to return the favour by writing a long Wintersberg one-shot based off of her short comic! i hope you enjoy touch-starved Heisenberg.

warnings for death (not for main characters) and some angst.

read on ao3

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Mama… I want mama. It hurts.

Where’s mama?

Karl Heisenberg always suffered from nightmares. Even before he was taken in by Mother Miranda — as a child, Heisenberg often experienced night terrors that had him screaming in his bed. There were distant memories in the back of his mind, where he’d wake from a terrible dream that had him screaming for his mother — and she’d always come to his side. In that terribly large, cold estate that Heisenberg once called home, it always felt so lonely. But, his mother always eased his fears; with her silk nightgown and the distinct smell of expensive soap. Her soft fingers would comb through Heisenberg’s locks of ashen brown hair, hushing him in a soft tone of voice — a voice he could no longer remember.

During the experiments, it was the only thing Heisenberg begged for when he felt the cadou infesting his body. It felt like a worm wriggling around in the wet soil during a storm, curling and writhing through his organs. He screamed for his mother, wishing she would save him from the pain and take him home again. A seventeen-year-old boy screaming for his mother to come and save him looked utterly pathetic from Mother Miranda’s perspective, and the feeling of fear only intensified when she stroked Heisenberg’s hair whilst he screamed. A soft whisper that uttered, “I’m your mother now, child.” It made Heisenberg nearly vomit.

That was the last time someone had ever touched him so tenderly. He’d not felt a loving touch since then and ducked away from Miranda’s so-called ‘motherly’ touches.

At first, Heisenberg coped with the intense trauma of his bodily changes by taking it in stride and calling his newfound power of magnetism a ‘gift’. He knew deep down it was the opposite: it stopped him from ageing, rendered him infertile and stripped away his dignity by becoming a slave to Miranda. It took a long time for Heisenberg to fully process what had happened to him. His father had left him in the clutches of a madwoman, and his life only got worse from there.

In a fit of rage — perhaps at the age of twenty-nine — he revisited his parent's estate to confront the man he could no longer call ‘father’. He had aged since Heisenberg last saw him, but those steel eyes he’d inherited were still as hard as ever. His mother lingered in a doorway just down the hall, but she didn’t dare come to greet her son as he snapped with a short, interrupted breath. Heisenberg had grabbed his father by the neck and pinned him to the nearest wall, knocking down a beautiful oil painting his mother adored. His fingers didn’t seem to stop, squeezing on the skin and bone until he felt a sickening crack vibrate beneath his fingers.

Heisenberg hadn’t meant it, not really. It was as if a demon had taken control of his body and sought revenge that barely mattered anymore. He didn’t realise what he’d done until he heard the sound of his mother screaming; distraught and fearful of her own son that she’d once coddled so long ago.

That was the last time Heisenberg saw his mother and father. The estate was quickly abandoned not long after, and from what he knew, his mother took her belongings and moved to Austria with some distant relatives. That large house teased Heisenberg every fucking day, with how it towered near the factory grounds and reminded him of what he’d done. Arson wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but Heisenberg couldn’t resist taking a match to the place and watching it burn. Whatever childhood remained in that house was left in a pile of ashes, and he never looked upon it ever again. All of the silly dreams and hopes he’d had for his life were gone.

That was until Ethan Winters showed up. Nearly a hundred years later, Heisenberg felt something he’d sought after for so long — hope.

**

“Karl? Karl—!”

Mama. I want mama. Everything hurts.

Heisenberg forced his eyes open. It felt like his life was replaying in front of him whilst he was passed out; like watching an old film reel repeating itself and becoming more distorted each time. Up until that very night, Heisenberg’s life had been a series of traumatic events and unforgivable actions.

That night, he’d turned it all around just by laying his eyes on Ethan Winters. A man so incredible, resilient and insane… He’d do anything to get his little girl back. It was the man Heisenberg had oh-so wanted his father to be, and he admired that about Ethan. He’d never been so good at expressing his emotions honestly, or even laying out his ideas in a proper fashion to others… Oh, but Ethan was special. He’d shown Heisenberg patience that he’d not been offered before and decided to join him at his side to kill Miranda. Together.

“Karl… Fuck— Don’t die on me, asshole.”

Ethan… Ethan…

Above the metal remnants of what his mutated body had used as a shell, he could hear Ethan pushing the scrap aside to try and find Heisenberg buried beneath it. He could also hear the distinct cries of a distressed baby, something that brought him back to Earth. Heisenberg reached up through the metal until his bare, calloused fingers brushed up against Ethan’s soft knuckles. There was a moment of silence when their skin touched, but Ethan didn’t waste any time in grabbing Heisenberg’s hand and pulling him out.

The moment the pressure around his body ceased, Heisenberg felt the telltale feeling of sickening warmth seeping from many wounds across his body. The cadou inside him didn’t react too well to it, trying to cope with the trauma done by squirming and pulsating inside of him. Heisenberg drank in the expression of Ethan’s relieved face for just a moment, only until it warped into one of worry and horror. Heisenberg was weak, and his knees buckled beneath the weight of his torso before he fell back onto the ground.

The baby cupped carefully in one of Ethan’s arms began to cry again as Ethan jostled her accidentally in an attempt to help Heisenberg. A baby crying wasn’t really helping Heisenberg’s already distressed state, but it made him realise just how fucked he was. There was no way they would get away in time together, and Heisenberg was too injured to walk. The cadou might have helped to some degree, but it didn’t ease the burning pain in his body, and the loss of blood that was making him dizzy.

Ethan’s horrified expression was pinned on an appendage from the Megamycete, which rose up from the cave systems like a flower bud in spring, ready to bloom. The small, red flashing light alerted him to the fact that Chris Redfield had succeeded in planting the bomb. They had to leave.

“Go.”

A silence hung in the air for just a moment, and Heisenberg didn’t realise what he’d just said. For the first time in his miserable existence, he was being selfless and urging Ethan to leave him behind. It was the last thing Heisenberg wanted.

Don’t leave me here. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want to die yet.

“Fuck you,” Ethan’s voice trembled with venom, “I’m not leaving you here now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Heisenberg let out a bitter chuckle, tasting the blood seeping from his gums as he grinned, “I don’t think we have any time to be arguing about this, buttercup.”

“No. I— Mia’s dead, Karl. I need you.”

That’s right. Heisenberg briefly recalled Miranda’s kidnapping of the not-so-innocent woman and the experimentation that followed. Unfortunately, her body gave in due to her state after giving birth and she died on Miranda’s operating table. Ethan’s wife was dead, and Rose was now left without a mother’s loving touch.

“I said go. Rose needs her papa intact, not blown to pieces.” Heisenberg insisted, slumping back against the pile of scrap metal.

“Damn it—” Ethan looked hesitant to leave Heisenberg. It was a truly sweet sentiment: to see someone care about him after all this time. After all of the terrible things he’d done, and the love he’d been deprived of… Someone cared about him. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to die like this.

“Fuck.” Ethan stammered again, licking his dry lips and swallowing, “Karl… I… Thank you.”

“... Yeah. I know, Ethan.”

That was all he needed. A trembling, watery smile shot his way before Ethan held Rose close with both arms and turned to run.

He’s going to be a great father.

Heisenberg looked up at the plant-like form the Megamycete had taken, looming down upon the ceremony courtyard with writhing mold creeping closer to Heisenberg. It was then that he decided that giving in like this wasn’t who he was: he was a fighter to his last breath.

In a last attempt to preserve his life, Heisenberg parted the pile of scrap metal and shuffled beneath it all. He rolled his wrist, the cocoon of metal surrounding him and tightening. The metal creaked, drowning out the sounds of the mold writhing around the metal to try and get inside. Heisenberg closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. I won’t die. Not yet.

The explosion that followed shortly after was deafening, causing the entire ground to shake beneath him and the metal to shudder against his body. It felt painful, rippling off his injured skin like that… But, fortunately for Heisenberg, the explosion wasn’t nuclear — the blast was enough to do the job and wipe out the mold and the Megamycete.

A silence followed the explosion, brick and ash collapsing against Heisenberg’s metal cocoon. Each noise made him flinch, and his fingers twitched instinctively as some final line of defence. He didn’t know how long it was before he felt brave enough to let his guard down and release his telekinetic grip on the metal. The scraps suddenly slumped, collapsing around him as Heisenberg pushed the metal off of his body and emerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self.

The smoke and dust still remained, causing Heisenberg to cough heavily as he took a sharp inhale of the air. He squinted through the dust and remains of what was left of his home town and realised how much he’d lost. It hit him all at once; his childhood, his parents and his fucked up little family. Even though he hated Miranda and his makeshift siblings deeply, they were all he truly had left to call ‘family’. It was over in the blink of an eye, and Heisenberg suddenly felt like a child all over again. Like a child waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

Heisenberg’s fingers twitched into tight fists, clamping his mouth shut as tears threatened to spill down his face. Even after all this, he tried to will himself not to cry, to never let down the walls he had so carefully built. But, at that moment there was nothing left to keep the foundations upright. Heisenberg’s fists loosened, and he brought his hands up to cover his face instinctively. A knot seemingly untied itself in his chest and throat, and a guttural sob left him. Maybe — just maybe — it was okay.

**

Navigating the woods was even worse during a snowstorm at night. It was bad enough that Heisenberg’s body was weak from his healing injuries, but it felt haggard from his intense emotional breakdown. In a strange sense, he felt relief from it but at the same time, it felt awfully inconvenient. Heisenberg was sure he looked like a terrible mess; his clothes were torn and his hair was damp with clumps of ash hanging from his silver locks. Not to mention the blood staining his clothes, and his valuable dog tags that hung low on his chest.

In his many idle chats with Ethan before they fought Miranda, he could recall the other man mentioning he didn’t live too far from the village. It was a fair distance away, but not too far that it would be impossible to reach if your car broke down on the road between them. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant or short walk.

By the time Heisenberg even managed to reach a place that looked like a livable home, he was close to collapsing in the snow… But, he held out. The lights were turned off inside, but a motion sensor light on the property turned on once Heisenberg got close enough. The bulb blinded him briefly, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes as he walked up the porch to the door. Heisenberg sluggishly lifted his hand, knocking on the door as hard as he could and leaning against the frame. It took a few moments before he could see a light turn on inside from the windows, and the sound of someone walking down a wooden staircase slowly.

The person on the other side of the door stopped before they reached for the doorknob, and they spoke out.

“Who is it?”

Ethan Winters. That voice Heisenberg had missed so dearly; in all of its glory and full of caution. It almost made him laugh.

“Let me in, Ethan. I’m freezing.”

“Karl?”

“As smart as ever, Ethan. Can you hurry up?”

Ethan was quick to unlock the door and remove the security chain, twisting the doorknob and pulling it open. There, Ethan was standing in a pristine white shirt and some boxers that hung low on his hips… Along with a pair of comical slippers that seemed to resemble a cartoon dog. Heisenberg’s lips twitched into a tired grin.

“Oh my, too much skin, Ethan. Back in my day—”

“Shut up and get in here!”

Ethan grabbed Heisenberg’s arm, tugging him inside to shield him from the snowstorm outside. He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it back up, and the two men finally stood face-to-face. There was a silence that hung in the air, with so many unanswered questions on the tip of Ethan’s tongue, but none came. Without any further hesitation, Ethan threw his arms around Heisenberg’s neck and tugged him close for an embrace.

It was the first time Ethan had touched him in such a way. So full of affection and genuinity, it made Heisenberg’s fingers tremble with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to do with his hands: so overcome with the touches that smothered him. His brows creased into an expression of relief, and Heisenberg’s steel eyes fluttered shut as he succumbed to the hug. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist, squeezing him carefully and burying his face into Ethan’s shoulder. The smell of talcum powder and formula milk permeated his shirt, giving Heisenberg the comfort he craved. He never wanted Ethan to stop touching him, and he was content to stay like this for as long as he could — to make up for all the time he’d lost aching after affection.

“I thought…” Ethan mumbled slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

“Mm.” Heisenberg hummed lowly in response, curling his fingers into Ethan’s shirt. “So did I. Turns out I’m hard to kill.”

Ethan snorted softly.

**

As it turned out, Heisenberg wasn’t too bad with kids.

It was a tough adjustment for the two men at first; Ethan had to keep Heisenberg a well-guarded secret as he was moved to a new location with Rose (courtesy of the BSAA). Heisenberg followed their steps at a safe distance, but he was never too far from them. Understandably, Ethan was moved into a smaller home: a humble bungalow in a quiet German village. Once the BSAA had left Ethan in peace with Rose, it didn’t take long before Heisenberg settled into the bungalow with them.

Ethan had insisted that if Heisenberg was going to stay there with him and Rose, then he’d need to learn to help take care of the baby. At first, he was extremely hesitant to do something akin to a parental figure… But, Rose was a surprisingly sweet baby. She didn’t fuss too much and rarely threw a tantrum over the little things. Rose was the right amount of responsibility for Heisenberg, and that made him a patient parent.

He’d been taught how to properly hold her (after many lectures), how to prepare her formula and change her. Rose was understandably unhappy with Heisenberg’s presence at first, perhaps longing for her mother that was no longer around… But, after a few months, she took to Heisenberg very well.

Because of Karl’s lack of mortality and infertility, he never thought he’d take the figure of a father like this… But, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome opportunity. He’d even upgraded from sleeping on the couch to Ethan’s bed.

The first night Ethan invited him to bed, Heisenberg could tell from the flustered look on Ethan’s face that it took a lot of courage to ask him to bed. A sexual joke lingered on the tip of Heisenberg’s tongue, but he bit it back in favour of keeping the proposal on the table. Instead, Heisenberg had nodded with a cheeky grin and followed Ethan to bed.

There had been some nights where the loss of Mia hit Ethan harder than he’d liked it to — even after Mia’s work with The Connections was revealed, he had still loved her to a degree. Those nights were the hardest. All Heisenberg could do was hold Ethan in his arms and comfort him with nothing more than his presence.

This invitation into Ethan’s bed was far more intimate than a comforting hug. At first, they stayed a polite distance apart on either side of the bed, with Ethan turned on his side whilst Heisenberg stared up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, his eyes created shapes that danced across the ceiling and warped before him. Much like the mold that infested him, it was as if it continued to taunt him with its presence. After a moment, Heisenberg finally turned onto his side and glanced at the lump that was Ethan with his back to him. That urge to touch returned to the forefront of Heisenberg’s mind. It was that deep ache in his chest, like a lump of flour stuck in a smooth dough that needed to be coaxed inward.

He reached out but stopped himself before he could touch, trying to plan the best way to move forward with what he wanted. Heisenberg pursed his lips, shuffling his body closer to Ethan’s back until he finally slid his arm over Ethan’s waist. He could feel Ethan’s body freeze and tense up a little, which made Heisenberg’s heart feel like stopping altogether. Had he gone too far?

But after a moment, Ethan relaxed, pressing his chest back into Karl slowly. It was all the permission he needed to slot himself fully against Ethan and quietly seek out his hand. Once Heisenberg found it, he carefully laced their fingers together as he held Ethan like that, tugging him close with his elbow.

No words were spoken in the darkness, but a silent understanding of what they both wanted. Heisenberg finally felt complete like this, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly. His body suddenly felt tired, releasing all the tension it had been holding trying to psyche himself up to do it.

A feeling of affection swelled in Heisenberg’s chest as he held Ethan, finally giving in to the darkness and drifting away with their bond now stronger than ever.

**

“Are you fucking insane, Ethan?!”

Chris Redfield. A thorn in Heisenberg’s side, but not as bad as Miranda. His voice filling their home put Heisenberg on edge, but it didn’t really matter too much to him. It was around ten in the morning, and the couple had just had breakfast. The television was on, playing some cartoons in the background as Rose was sitting on the soft carpet of the living area with her toys, and Heisenberg sat close to her.

When Chris made an unexpected visit, and he spotted Heisenberg in the living room, the yelling began. Ethan had kept Chris just outside of the room so that Rose didn’t see her father getting angry, and Heisenberg made sure to keep her attention on her toys. Heisenberg was wearing a pair of tartan boxers, along with a button-up pyjama shirt with a white tank top beneath it. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of bedtime fashion, but it made him comfortable enough at night.

When the yelling only got worse and Rose seemed irritated by the noise, Heisenberg carefully brought Rose into his lap and crossed his legs.

“Hmm,” He hummed in feigned thoughtfulness, “Does ol’ Karl need to perform for little Rose again?” Heisenberg sighed dramatically, “Oh, the things I do for you.”

He turned his body subtly to the kitchen area, holding his hand out and focusing on one of the drawers. It slid open, a few tablespoons floating out from a cutlery tray. Heisenberg pulled his hand back, the spoons floating across to the living area and bringing them to a stop in front of him and Rose. With a simple, slow roll of his wrist, the spoons began to twirl and move in a circular motion above Rose.

Her eyes widened with fascination, the corners of her mouth opening into a gleeful smile. Absently, she reached up with her soft, pink hands and tried to reach for the spoons half-heartedly as they continued their motions. A soft laugh bubbled from her, causing Karl to smile softly.

“He’s a dangerous bioweapon, Ethan. He could hurt Rose!”

Heisenberg managed to hone in on those words; a sharp pain digging into his chest when he realised the implications Chris was trying to make. That Heisenberg was a monster. A bioweapon without feeling. A creature that would kill a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ethan pointing wordlessly at the soft scene of Heisenberg with Rose in his lap, entertaining her with spoons. That was all he needed to say, really — without even saying it. Even Chris was at a loss for words, and he quietly relented. Ethan was surely in for an afternoon of lectures.

It made Heisenberg smile a little more, turning his head subtly towards Ethan and catching his gaze. It was his quiet way of saying thank you. It went beyond thanking Ethan for trusting him with Rose but thanking Ethan for listening to Heisenberg, taking him into his home and loving him. Even though they’d never spoken those three little words out loud, maybe they didn’t need to. Their actions, affections and closeness spoke those words loud enough.

Truly, after all this time, Heisenberg didn’t think he was capable of ever being loved or trusted. Now that he’d left that horrible life behind, he was now a father, a friend and possibly a lover. The trauma would always remain, yes, like the cadou and the mutations. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy like this, in this simple little life he’d started to build with Ethan.

Maybe it would be okay.