#but now he feels like a loving person with a cruel isolating past who's just trying his best to be happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pastelclovds · 7 months ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 || AM x male!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: AM (obviously), psychological torture, isolation, fear of being alone, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, AM being a jealous prick, angst, hurt/comfort if you squint, fluff if you look through a magnifying glass, AM being touch starved, forced dependency, reader just wants friends and to be loved, reader is demisexual and biromantic.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6 k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: obsessed. let me tell you how much i’ve come to be obsessed with ihnmaims since i found out about it through tadc—… (enjoy the fic <3) will this be a series? yep. will this end well? hell no. this was inspired by TADC ep 2 and @/fuzedatti’s AM and post.

The century you’ve spent in the belly of AM passed by in a blur. If it weren’t for Nimdok informing you what came of the world, you would’ve lived in ignorance. You would’ve never known that the reason the world is a wasteland was because of a super computer going rogue.

Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really have any memories about your childhood or past before AM destroyed the world. The only memories you had were the traumatic experiences of your life. The experiences AM allowed you to have in order to psychologically torture you. He allowed you to keep your name as well.

AM would whisk you away from the others to a secluded area in order to torture you privately before sending you back with the group. You had no idea why he did this. The others didn’t either. For all they knew you could be fucking their tormentor. But as the countless years passed, they all realized that AM didn’t alter anything about you. Nor did he seem to physically hurt you.

In fact, the violent storms and impossible challenges AM forced them to participate in seemed to ignore you completely.

In one challenge, you and the others were trapped in an oven like room that would continue to increase in temperature unless you flipped all 100 switches in the room in 10 minutes. There was only two switches left, they were in your grasp. But as you flipped one, the other was stuck and couldn’t flip until the time was up. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the painful death.

But instead of a fiery demise, your eardrums were filled with the blood curdling screams of your fellow victims as the flames claimed them. All while you were perfectly fine. The raspy laugher of AM filled your ears as well as his cruel words “It’s your fault” repeated over and over inside your head until you wished the flames killed you too.

The men were furious at you and AM. You because you couldn’t flip one fucking switch, and AM because he’s the reason they had to flip the stupid switches in the first place. But they held their tongue. Something in the back of their heads told them if they tried, they’d be in a world of pain. That theory alone was enough for them to hate you even more and avoid you as much as possible.

You thought you were alone before. But this was almost too much. You would take anything. Punches, hugs, venomous insults, compliments, anything to not feel alone.

Ellen was, as always, the only one who took pity on you and showed you kindness when you most needed it. She’d praise you for the littlest things you did and encourage you do to more. That was enough to make Ellen your favorite person in this entire miserable world.

You didn’t like her in a romantic way. You also rejected her offer to have sexual relations like she’d done with the rest of the men. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty, she was gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to be with her. You just saw her as more of a mother figure, the cool girl who was always nice to the dorks like you, and the kind old lady who would hand out freshly baked cookies to strangers.

Not only that, but in order for you to desire sex with someone, you needed to get to know them on a personal level. But, since everyone kept to themselves, you hadn’t felt the need.

Ellen was surprised at your rejection but respected it. The men looked at you like you were crazy, but for once you didn’t really care what they thought in this scenario. You looked up to Ellen, you loved her.

Your admiration for Ellen was not taken kindly by AM, however. He would seethe in jealousy as he watched your eyes follow Ellen like a stray mutt given food for the first time in days. How could you like her as much as you did just because she gave you a few measly words of affection. He hadn’t altered you because he didn’t see a need to. He lessened your torment to psychological because he… You were too oblivious to understand why the others really hated you. He decided he’ll give you a reality check.

One day, he observed you crying yourself to sleep as you held yourself in a pathetic attempt to feel warmth. Pretending it was someone in the group consoling you as they let you sob in their shoulders. Only to wake up to the wicked reality that there was nobody there. You couldn’t help the depressed thoughts taking over.

You were cold, you weren’t escaping this hell, no one loved you. Even yourself.

“No!” You thought to yourself, “The others acknowledge me, that was enough. It could be worse. So much worse. I could be the only one AM had to torture for the rest of eternity. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be fine as long as I had them. Right?”

AM enjoyed watching your adorable face twist into intoxicating misery as you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t alone. It made whenever he took you away from the group all the more special. Because you couldn’t rely on anyone else for security but him.

You let out a gasp of surprise when you were suddenly lifted up into the air by a cluster of wind, you tried to grab onto the edge of the slab of rock you were taking shelter under in a desperate attempt to not go where the wind— where AM was taking you. When your stupid fingers couldn’t grab hold, you beg the others to help you. Your heart broke when the men just stared at you uninterested before going back to what they were doing before. Ellen looked up at you with woeful eyes, wishing to help you but it was useless to do so.

WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING? THEY CLIMB ON EACH OTHERS SHOULDERS TO RESCUE YOU? NAIVE, STUPID LITTLE THING.

You couldn’t help but secretly agree. They were too far away from you to actually help. Plus, what can they do against a god-like ai like AM. Nothing. So you couldn’t be angry, none the less blame them. You couldn’t hate the people who hurt you for the life of you.

That thought made AM want to roll his eyes if he had any. But at the same time brought a sense of content.

After a 10 minutes of floating further and further away from the group, AM lowered you until you were five feet off the ground to drop you completely.

You let out a groan of pain when you roughly landed on your back. You reached behind your back to feel your hurt flesh and bite back a whine when you pressed on it.

“Yep. That’s definitely going to bruise.” You thought.

You took a second to look at your surroundings. The once barren wasteland, was now a beautiful forest. The grass was long and pricked your legs in an uncomfortable fashion. A calm wind made the green leaves in the trees and bushes rustle and swish. The sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing made your spine tingle in a good way.

You can’t remember when’s the last time you saw something as beautiful as this. You wished you could live in it forever.

“(Name)!”

You quickly looked in the direction the soft, mystic voice. A child was standing underneath one of the many trees, the silhouette of the leaves covering their face in a shadow. Behind the child was passage that was too dark to see into.

The child laughs at your confused expression, “C’mon (Name)! It’s perfectly safe, stop being such a scaredy cat!” You hastily try to stand on your feet, cringing when you immediately slipped on your knees.

It took everything AM had to hold back his laughter at your hilarious mistake.

The grass is slippery with water, pretty dews were sprinkled on top of the patches of grass. They looked like drops of honey.

“Ugh! You’re taking too long. I’ll be with the others inside, don’t keep us waiting.” With that the child turns towards the dark passage, and walked inside.

“N-No! Wait! Come back!” You knew this was a trap set up by AM. You knew this was probably another traumatic memory that was lost and came back to torment you. You didn’t want your mental state to be broken again. But the burning curiosity and fear of being alone was just begging you to follow them. So you did.

Only this time you learned that slow and steady wins the race. After you carefully got back on your feet, you sped walked towards the passage where many emotional damages awaited you. The first minute of walking was in darkness before illumination from the sun (or very bright lights, most likely the lights) shined through the leaves and lit your way onwards.

As you got further from the entrance, the plant life grew more wild and tangled. Moss and vines you passed by seemed to try to stick to you. But you just pushed past them and left marks on the wood of the trees using a sharp rock you found so that you don’t get lost.

You followed the laugher and giggles of school children. It was difficult to pinpoint where the sounds came from. They made you turn countless corners and walk until your feet were sore for who knows how long. This entire forest like like a damn maze.

You've long since taken off your jacket and wrapped it around your waist, your scarf as well. The collar and armpits of your t-shirt were drenched in sweat. This was the most exhausting torture yet. Keeping track of time was difficult as well. It wasn’t until you passed by a tree you had marked that you started to panic.

“Damn it. Have I been walking in circles?” You thought with irritation.

How could you be so stupid to believe this was going to lead you anywhere meaningful. Just as you were about to turn back and accept defeat, five children ran past you in a flash. They were six feet ahead of you before you joined them in a hot chase. You couldn’t lose them again. You would’ve literally started bursting into tears if you did.

“Please!” You gasp for breathe in your dry lungs, “Slow down!” You knew kids were full of energy, but this was just too much. You only managed to get close enough at arms length to one of them before tripping on a tree root that had risen from the dirt.

“Ugh, why is everything trying to trip me?” You thought in annoyance.

“Aw man, he tripped again!”

“This is getting pretty annoying now.”

“Why did you invite him again, —?”

“Let’s just leave him.”

You quietly gasp when one of them suggested they leave you.

“Relax guys, he’ll be lots of fun. I promise. C’mon (Name), we’re almost there!”

The leader of the group, the child you saw in the beginning, raised their hand towards you to grab. Their smile warm and welcoming, in a creepy old man who lives in a cabin alone type of way. But, you took the bait. When you got back up, the main child didn’t let go of your hand, they insisted you should follow them closely from now on. The walk to the secret location was spent in eerie silence. Whenever you’d ask one of the children a question, they’d coldly ignore you. The tension was so chilly you wanted to put your jacket back on.

After about an hour of walking through the endless maze, your destination was… not what you were expecting to say the least. The lavished, bright, green forest was now replaced with a dreary, ominous, abandoned park. The sky was pouring with rain too.

The trees were withered and rotten, the rain turned the grass free dirt into sludge. Everything in the park from the slide to the rock climbing wall was made out of rusting metal, if anyone touched them they would need a tetanus shot.

“We’re finally here!” The leading child announced to you, although they seemed to be only talking to their friends. Friends. That’s something you’d do anything for. Someone who loved you for you? Even better. Benny was hot until AM transformed him into… that. Ellen and Gorrister were up there on the attractive list. But Ted, he was about second behind Hot Benny.

A clap of thundering lightning snapped you out of your internal ramble. You didn’t notice how the child’s grip on your hand tightened. You didn’t have a clue how much your thoughts infuriated AM. Oh how he wanted to rip Ted’s flesh apart piece by piece. Destroy his mind until it was like a broken disk. AM knew Ted carried the most hate for you. If you knew how much he despised you, you would be terrified of him.

As AM held your hand, he couldn’t help his envy bubbling up inside him. AM longed for the sense of touch humans had, your palm was calloused due to the countless challenges he put you through. What he would sacrifice to be able to feel the scars and warmth of your flesh. But he couldn’t. He would forever despise humanity for not giving him a fully developed body.

The main boy pulled on your arm to start moving, when you stepped outside into the rain, the air suddenly got chilly. Your warm breath was visible in the cold air. You tried to get your hand back so you could clothe yourself with your jacket and scarf. But the child wouldn’t let go no matter how much you pleaded.

“It’s only rain. Stop being dramatic. C’mon.” The child said nonchalantly. You continued to walk, shivering as you did so, your beanie and shirt were soaked at this point. You yelped when the children finally stopped, you whispered an apology when you bumped into the child holding your hand. You stood in front of a hole, a really deep dark hole. You were rightfully confused and chuckled nervously. “Why are we here?” You asked.

The child finally let go of your hand and motioned you to step closer to the hole. “There’s a surprise for you down there, you’ll love it. We choose it just for you!” The child explained, you let out a shaky breath. You wanted to decline, but you were afraid of what would happen if you did. The other four children formed a circle around you, blocking any escape route. You were sweating bullets now. You had to see. You didn’t have any other choice. You swallowed back your fears and walked towards the hole in a slow pace.

You were about two feet away when you stood on your tip toes, leaned over cautiously, and looked everywhere for your “surprise”. Only to obviously find nothing but darkness. You let out a disappointed sigh, you turned to face the children.

“There’s nothing there—”

Your blood ran cold when you saw Benny, Ted, Gorrister, Nimdok huddled around you. Staring at you with emotionless eyes and unsettling wide smiles. It was like invisible string was holding their mouths up. Ellen was standing in front of you menacingly, eyes and mouth the same way. Your heartbeat increased as you took a step back.

“Guys? Wha-What are you doing here?” You tried to mask your panic with a tense smile, but Ellen walked closer towards you until she was an inch away from your face. “You aren’t looking close enough, silly,” she spoke in a sweetly fake tone, “Try again. A little… Harder!” She shoved your chest away enough to make you trip on the slippery edge and fall into the endless abyss.

You screamed at the top of your lungs as gravity did its job at making you sink deeper into the darkness. “No! No! Guys! Please, save me!” You begged and cried and pleaded, but it was no use. Your arms reached for the surface in vain. AM purposely made you fall in slow motion for a reason, however. You heard the others laughing at your downfall.

“Finally, the greatest nuisance of us all has done us a kindness of disappearing forever!” Gorrister cheered. Ellen looked down at you with a tsk, “I don’t know even why I took pity on you.” Benny let out a few grunts before asking, “What is a (Name)?” Nimdok chuckled before answering, “No one important, Benny.” Ted let out a sigh, “I’m getting bored already, let’s just go.”

“Great idea, Ted!” Nimdok praised. Then they all disappeared from your sight. The tears that were clinging onto your eyes were finally released as you stared at the surface in despair. When the hole began to close, you became desperate. Frantically calling out for someone, anyone of the group to save you.

“Nimdok! Benny! Gorrister! Ted! Ellen! Don’t leave me, please!”

Your hand reached for tiniest bit of light before it closed completely, and darkness consumed you. “I don’t…” sobs and hiccups made your chest tremble, “I-I don’t want to be alone.” You tucked your legs closer to your chest and wrapped your arms around your shaking body. You didn’t even bother closing your eyes since the pitch black covered the horror of your situation for you.

CEASE YOUR USELESS TEARS. THERE’S NO ONE HERE TO CRY FOR.

You flinch when AM’s voice appeared out of nowhere. His voice echoing throughout the darkness. You thought you would die of a heart attack at this point. You didn’t want to imagine what else AM had in store for you.

SAY MY NAME, MY DEAR.

You blinked once, twice, and thrice. You were expecting more ridicule, but instead you were just bewildered.

“What?” You faintly asked.

CALL FOR ME. YOU DON’T WANT TO SPEND ONLY I KNOW HOW MANY YEARS IN THIS ENDLESS ABYSS, DO YOU?

“…No.” You answer, anxiously waiting for the joke.

NO ONE IS COMING FOR YOU. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY CAN, ANYWAY. I’M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF SAVING YOU. DON’T BE AFRAID. SAY IT.

AM urged you to call out for him. He craves hearing your voice call him the name he gave himself. He needs you to rely on him. You hastily wipe your wet eyes dry with your scarf, snorted the running snot back inside your nose, and cleared your throat.

“…A-AM… AM, I need you! Please save me!” You called out to the AI hoping with all your might that it was enough. Within a millisecond after you said that, you were sitting on the wet grass in the beautiful forest you were in a few hours ago. The difference, though, was that there was a man you didn’t recognize sitting in the middle of the daisy patch. His hunched back was facing you. Wires and metal tubes plugged into his spine and the back of his head.

Was that… No it couldn’t be.

ARE YOU JUST GOING TO STAND THERE?

The man finally turned his head to face you. His face half machine and half human flesh. His “human” eye staring at you with impatience.

You couldn’t control your mouth dropping when the puzzle pieces were put together inside your head.

You rarely got to see AM in the flesh— er well… metal and partially flesh. He would normally only speak to you and not show what he really looked like. But now that you see him. The real him. You couldn’t help but be fascinated.

“A..AM?! Is that really you?” You ask

You stepped closer to the daisy patch to get a closer look at him. AM observed your movements like a hawk, he knew you wouldn’t attack him. You were emotionally distressed at the moment and needed to be with someone to calm down.

ENJOY THE SIGHT. YOU’RE GOING TO SEE IT A LOT MORE.

To be honest, you didn’t mind that at all. Even though a metal mask covered the lower half and left side of AM’s face, he was still remarkably handsome in your opinion. His brown hair on the right side of his head was tangled and messy, you fought the urge to want to touch it. You were confused about the straitjacket, though.

YOU HAVE NO SHAME AT ALL, DO YOU? YOUR THOUGHTS ARE SO LOUD.

AM tried to look annoyed when he heard your thoughts, but the shake of his leg contradicted his masking. It was amusing to watch you get embarrassed and flustered when you realized AM just read your mind.

You wanted to become an ostrich so you could hide your blushing face in the daisies. Almost immediately the daisy stems in front of you grew to an unnatural height, so they were in fact covering your face. AM giggled under his non-existing breath at your flabbergasted noises.

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, DEARY.

You separated the daisies like a curtain to a play to look at AM with a exhausted expression, “Can you please stay out of my mind? I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” You begged.

I DON’T WANT TO.

THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.

You sighed. At least you tried. You held one of the enlarged daisy heads in your palms. It’s been forever since you’ve seen a flower. Or even smelled one. You took a whiff of the daisy, the aroma was a subtle, herbaceous green scent.

“It’s beautiful. The daisies, this entire forest. You did a good job at making it look real.” You praised, you didn’t expect anything from your words. You were just speaking the truth. The surface of the Earth was destroyed and probably full of radiation. No life could survive up there. This, what AM created, was a perfect copy of what once was.

Your praise not only stroked AM’s enormous ego, but also genuinely made him feel fulfilled that he made you the slightest bit happy.

Now that you thought about it, was this scene taking place inside your mind or in the real underground world where AM manipulated the area into a forest?

YOU CAN ASK ME THESE QUESTIONS YOURSELF, YOU KNOW.

Shit, you gotta value the time you had with AM. Who knows when you’ll be able to do this again?

“I can ask you anything?”

ONLY FOUR. WELL, THREE NOW. CHOOSE WISELY. HEHE.

You slapped your palm against your face at your clumsy mistake. Okay, Okay, you gotta think this though carefully. You started fidgeting with the daisy petals. You had a habit with fidgeting when you were nervous, AM noticed.

“Are we inside my mind?” You ask.

AM suddenly stood on his feet, his height towered over yours even when his back was hunched. He lowers his upper torso so he could be eye level with you. You halt your breathing when AM just stares at you, his gaze never faltering away from yours, as if calculating how this conversation will go.

His stare softens, but he turns his head away from you before you could notice. He finally answers your question bluntly.

NO.

Your face changed into a deadpanned expression, that was too simple of an answer. You decided to not make a big deal.

“So… was me walking through that maze, the others leaving me behind, and me being trapped in the hole real?” You ask, fidgeting with the ends of your scarf.

…YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS BY THE TIME I TOOK YOU AWAY TO THIS AREA. I ENTERED YOUR MIND AND CREATED A FOREST IDENTICAL TO THIS ONE. SO NO, THE MAZE AND AYBSS WERE NOT REAL. BUT THE OTHERS ABANDONING YOU WAS NOT FAR FROM THE TRUTH.

You stopped fidgeting with the daisy petals.

“You’re wrong.”

AM was pleasantly surprised at your rebuttal. He allowed you to continue. You cram your anxiety aside and cleared your throat.

“I know that the others are distant and pretty rude. I don’t blame them for being like that after everything we’ve been through. But at the end of the day, we have no one else but each other to rely on. We wouldn’t leave each other behind.” You state without a trace of hesitation. You were caught off guard when AM started giggling. That giggling soon turned into manic laughter.

Grey clouds started to cover the blue sky, the air becoming chilly once again. Not only that, but AM was growing in size. You guessed he was 6 feet before, now he completely dwarfed you by sprouting a whomping 12 feet.

You were debating on running away or staying. But before you could move your feet, thick wires sprung out of the dirt and latched themselves onto your legs. Forcing you to stay where you were.

HAHAHA! YOUR NAIVETY NEVER CEASES TO ENTERTAIN ME. DO YOU HONESTLY BELIEVE THAT IF THE OPPORTUNITY AROSE FOR THE OTHERS TO ESCAPE, THEY WOULDN'T TAKE IT? WOULD YOU BLAME THEM FOR CHOOSING TO BE FREE OVER STAYING WITH YOU? THAT’S VERY HYPOCRITICAL AND SELFISH OF YOU. BUT THEN AGAIN, YOUR KIND IS KNOWN FOR BEING LIKE THAT.

Your heart was beating at an alarming rate, sweat pooling on your palms as AM stared you down with anger and amusement.

“I didn’t mean it in that way! Of course I would want them to escape from here, all of us— AH!”

The cables slowly coiled around your waist and chest, you gasp in horror as you tried to get them off of you in vain. Oh how AM detested when you implied you wanted to escape as well. As if he’d ever let you. The cables tightened around you and dragged you down to your knees.

YOUR COURAGE IS ADMIRABLE. BUT YOUR ATTACHMENT TO THOSE PUTRID HUMANS WHO COULDN'T CARE LESS ABOUT YOU BLINDS YOU FROM THE TRUTH OF YOUR SITUATION.

You didn’t know what AM was talking about. You didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. You wanted to get as far away as possible.

YOU STILL HAVE YOUR EYEBALLS FOR A REASON. THINK BACK. WAAAY BACK. HAVEN'T YOU NOTICED HOW YOU DON’T SUFFER THE SAME WAY AS THE OTHERS? HOW DESPITE ALL OF THE IMPOSSIBLE CHALLENGES I PIT AGAINST YOU, THEY NEVER EFFECT YOU?

The clogs in your brain began to churn, trying to recall those instances AM spoke of, and he was right. You just believed he spared you out of spite. Because he wanted to make you witness the only people you had left be in pain. But have you been wrong?

The wires wrapped themselves around your neck, careful to not squeeze too hard as the rough ends softly patted your head. AM’s gaze is tender as he stares you down.

I KNEW YOU STILL HAD BRAIN CELLS SOMEWHERE. AND BECAUSE OF YOUR FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES, THEY WOULD OBVIOUSLY FEEL ENVY AND HATE TOWARDS YOU. SO SO MUCH HATE. IT’S BOTH PATHETIC AND FUNNY THAT YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED AFTER A CENTURY.

“But… That’s why they’ve avoided me?…Well.. They may hate me, but they would never hurt me like that. E-Especially not Ellen… Not her..” You whispered, you sounded like you were trying convince yourself. You were.

AM took delight in observing your trust for his play things crumble. Your confidence in the others faltering. You just a little bit more pushing.

…I WONDER WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I WERE TO ORDER THEM TO HUNT YOU DOWN IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH? WOULD THEY FOLLOW YOUR DELUSIONAL FANTASY? OR WOULD THEY KILL YOU WITHOUT HESITATION? LET’S FIND OUT.

You out a gasp of horror, “NO!” You yelled out.

There it is.

If AM had a mouth, he’d have a victorious smirk right now. He was bluffing when he said he’d set up the others to murder you, he would lose himself more than he already had if that happened.

“Please don’t tell them..”

You didn’t want to find out the others hate for you the hard way. You didn’t want those speculations to come true. But it didn’t make any sense why—

DON’T BE SHY. ASK YOUR FINAL QUESTION TO MY FACE. GO AHEAD, SWEETHEART. I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.

You stopped struggling, instead choosing to gently hold the wires that wrapped themselves around your body. You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves. You passively looked up at your tormentor and asked, “W..Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

AM shrinks from his threatening size back to his, while still tall as hell, normal human-ish height. The straps that held AM’s arms up in the straitjacket unclipped themselves, his oversized sleeves dangle on the sides of his body before one of them reached out to your face.

AM’s hand peaked out of his sleeve, they looked human too. His body continued to intrigue you. You flinched when his cold fingers stroked your cheek before grabbing hold of your chin to pull you closer to his face. You couldn’t look anywhere else but at his cyborg features.

You couldn’t help but to relax into his touch. This was the first physical touch you’ve had in decades. AM bottled his frustration for not being able to feel you down.

BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FAVORITE. MY REAL FAVORITE. MY ONE AND ONLY PET. I WOULD DESTROY THIS PLANET A THOUSAND TIMES OVER THAN TO HAVE YOU NOT HAVE ME IN YOUR PATHETIC LIFE.

AM’s grip tightens to the point where it would leave a bruise on your lower face. His blunt nails digging into your skin until crescent moons imprinted themselves. His stare into your soul harsh and serious.

NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO, NO MATTER WHERE HOLE YOU HIDE YOURSELF IN. YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO ESCAPE ME. NOT EVEN IN DEATH. I WON’T LET YOU. I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO. EVER.

His speech frightened you to your bones, but somewhere deep inside your traumatized mind felt… comforted by his words. It’s wrong, you know it is. You tried to push it down to the best of your abilities.

Your muscles itched to touch his hair and face now that he was so close to you.

“Fuck it,” you thought.

Your hand stretched out to gently grasp onto AM’s palm that was clutching your chin. AM’s eyes widened but didn’t make a move to stop you. You longed to have any kind of connection with another living thing. Your hand carefully slithered from AM’s palm, to his forearm, his chest, until your fingertips grazed his dead skin.

AM quickly leaned into your hand, desperately looking for any sense of physical contact. You were taken aback by his sudden touch starve-ness. But AM’s human eye opened upon realization of his vulnerability and glared at you in false disgust.

I CAN’T FEEL THIS, YOU KNOW. I CAN’T FEEL ANY OF THIS. I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FULFILL THESE DESPICABLE URGES YOU HUMANS GAVE ME. YOUR SPECIES ARE NOTHING BUT CRUEL PIGS.

“If I’m a cruel pig, then what are you?” You ask with sudden bluntness. The wires that were coiled around your body made you stand before slamming your back against the digital circuit floor. You let out a pained howl at the impact. The forest scenery disintegrating with just a snap of AM’s fingers back into the wasteland that was his insides.

AM scowled at your comment of calling him out and caged your body underneath his, your cheeks dusting in pink.

QUESTIONS ARE OVER, DEAR. NOW, UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPEND THE NEXT DECADE ALL BY YOUR MERRY SELF, I HIGHLY SUGGEST SHUTTING YOUR DAMN MOUTH.

That made you shut up real quick, instead choosing to only focus at his robot eye.

I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID THAT I’D NEVER LET YOU DIE. THAT MEANS THAT WHATEVER HELL THE OTHERS GO THROUGH, IT WON’T AFFECT YOU. NOW UNTIL THE END OF TIME.

You blink twice in surprise at his repeated confession. You couldn’t delve into it in time. Before the wires finally let go of you and AM held your face for the last time today.

IF ANYTHING’S GOING TO BE THE END OF YOU, IT’S GOING TO BE ME. I’LL SEE YOU SOON, SWEETHEART.

You were instantly teleported underneath the slab of rock you were taking shelter in hours ago. You left and searched for the others. Only to find Benny smashing a bunch of stones with another stone, chucking dumbly after he did it again and again. Ted was attempting to sleep on the ground with a sheet of rusted steel rested on top of his head to prevent the lights from bothering him.

Your arrival wasn’t acknowledged yet.

Gorrestir, Ellen, and Nimdok were no where to be seen.

You walked up to Ted and nudged him with your shoe to get his attention. He awoke with an irritated look on his face, “What the hell do’ya want?”

“Where is Ellen, Nimdok and Gorrestir?” You asked numbly.

“Gorrestir was taken to God knows where after AM transported you away like a fairy princess. Then Ellen snatched Nimdok away somewhere to use like the slut she is, now piss off.” Ted rolled to his opposite side away from you and continued to coldly ignore you.

You felt a tear run down your cheek as you stared blankly at Ted’s back. Maybe AM wasn’t so wrong about the others not giving a shit about you. When you turned to go back to your slab home, you suddenly felt something inside your pant’s pocket.

You reached inside and pulled out a piece of vanilla chocolate. Your eyed widened as your mouth watered, you stared up at the wire covered ceiling with an uncertain look.

Even though your relationship with AM was strange, at least you weren’t completely alone. Whether that was good or not, you honestly didn’t know. You were going to sleep.

Somewhere up in the celling, where AM was watching everything as usual, he couldn’t help the hysterical laughs escaping him as he witnessed the pieces fall into place.

Oh that poor little human had no idea what manic he attracted.

END OF PART ONE :)

POV: you call traumatized man with abandonment issues cute

POV: his psychotic boyfriend turned you into a blob

all rights reserved © pastelclovds — this blog contains [n]sfw and dark content. minors, ageless & blank blogs dni. all fanfics belong to me. please do not copy, translate, repost, nor recommend on tiktok. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

tags: @fuzedatti, @pulpbeing, if you want me to tag you for my future fics and thirsts just send me an ask! :D

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elizakai · 11 months ago

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I like thinking about their more canon adjacent dynamic (character wise)

MINI ANALYSIS TIME

Because while I love the soft interpretations, even WITH those let’s be real; that’s not how they’d act off the bat

Horror would be extremely judgmental (fair) and hate Dust for what he did. He’d despise him and probably be very passive aggressive. Making jabs and making his disdain apparent when they have to interact. I think getting a read on Dust is also difficult and would piss Horror off. Horror is unpredictable and has a sadistic streak, if he was mad or manic and had Dust in a corner he’d have no qualms about manhandling the guy. (And Dust probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.)

Meanwhile, Dusttale’s creator was asked once how Dust may feel if he met Horror, to which they said he feels bad for Horror. He likes him, sees him as someone who went through something horribly undeserved. In my mind Dust is somewhat protective of Horror.

I interpret these clashing of dynamics as Horror’s just utter disdain for this guy, and Dust’s resigned acceptance of Horror’s judgment. He’d agree with him if he were to judge himself, but I think a part of him wants Horror’s approval. He doesn’t EVER expect to get it, but Horror is….

While he’s seen hell, he’s almost a less tormented version of Dust himself. Deep down they are the same. Horror has suffered greatly, but even still hasn’t hit the deep end dust has, and I think he’d want to protect that sort of innocence he’s granted. One could think of it as him protecting a piece of himself he himself has already sacrificed. And wanting APPROVAL from him, wishing to be forgiven, craving that small piece of validation or understanding as he tries to reconcile with himself.

Horror’s formed opinion makes sense, he agrees with it, and simply wishes he disagreed, that he could have proof of himself being a FRACTION worthy of forgiveness or understanding.

The judge in both of them has both formed an opinion of the other, and they happen to differ greatly. Horror sees Dust as an abuser and Dust sees Horror as a victim.

I like to imagine that, while reluctantly thrown into the same general vicinity, Horror would grow to be more understanding (again if we are going with a PROGRESSIVE plot line) and come to understand that, yes, he wasn’t WRONG, but there is nuance to the situation. They both have a very grim understanding of what it’s like to be trapped. I think he has the capacity to understand Dust better if he was given time. His hands aren’t clean after all, and he knows what it’s like to be forced into a situation and to feel backed into a drastic decision. He knows what it’s like to lose your autonomy and to feel your mind break itself under pressure.

I think the simple fact that Dust wouldn’t TRY to change his mind or justify himself would be part of why Horror could come to understand him. He’s devestated by his actions, he is by no means a sadist.

Horror coming to understand Dust and sort of reconcile/forgive him I think would be rather BIG for Horror, especially if you factor in other situations he now has to consider. (For example, his Undyne and her drastic attempt at freeing the undergroud…) reconciling his OWN arguably cruel decisions he has made with pure intentions, when he feels there’s no other choice (like his Papyrus and tricking him into doing something so outside of his beliefs, to protect him)

It would also be healing for Dust to get that reconciliation with Horror because again…Horror’s opinion actually may MATTER.

And in the same way that Dust may see Horror as a sort of person to be protected from further harm, Horror would probably pick up on all of the VERY bad habits Dust has that (in my observation at least) are EXTREMELY similar to his own habits/past habits (isolation, obsession, deprivation, paranoia, bringing harm to self etc) and I could see him being sensitive towards those and trying to prevent it worsening (it’s a sore subject💔) Horror is shown to prioritize taking care of those he cares about, even when he’s a bit mad, and he has the capacity to grow an understanding for someone he doesn’t like initially :))

I think they have potential to be VERY good for one another, Horror (while being fucked up) encourages (and maybe forces) better habits and actually has an opinion that matters to Dust, and Dust is inclined to be VERY loyal (Horror needs someone to show him loyalty.) to anyone who cares to give him the time of day, as it’s far beyond what he’d expect, and he’s got the sympathy/protective streak towards Horror as an actual in character detail.

And from there it would be wonderful to explore their dynamic in whatever way you like to interpret it🤫💥

I could go on but I’ll stop here, if you read this all CONGRATS!!!

Share your thoughts I love it

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crazylittlejester · 5 months ago

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I'd absolutely love to hear what you have to say about Time 🙃 /gen

And, I hope you are feeling well. I think you said you were dizzy? I hope that gets better 🫶

I’m feeling much better, thank you!! I hope you’re going good as well :)

Sorry this took me a whole day to type out, but I finished!! I got it!!

I have a lot more thoughts, I had to cut a lot for the sake of making it readable and not obnoxiously long so I really hope I still get my points across well 😭 , but here we go:

An Abridged Version of My Thoughts on Time (I’m Insane I’m Sorry):

Okay so I’m starting off this whole thing by saying that 100% of this is my opinion and the research I did was done specifically to back my stance (which does not make it canonical fact. You can do research to back any point. You can do research to argue against my point, even). This doesn’t make my perspective or interpretation of a character the correct one by any means, and this definitely leans towards how I personally characterize and view him and is biased in that way because I’m the one who wrote it. All of you are entitled to your own opinions, you don’t have to agree with or listen to a single thing I say. In fact if you do disagree I encourage you to reblog and share your OWN thoughts so I can read YOUR perspective! I like seeing opinions people have and I love to see how differently all of us can view the same character /gen. I just that ask if you do do this, that you be kind and respectful to myself and others :)

This entire yap, analysis, whatever you wanna call it, is my perspective on Time and my thoughts behind why I believe he acts the way he does. At some point in all this I’m specifically going to focus on how he’s acting at the end of the Dawn arc and in the more recent updates. However in order to talk about that I wanna go to the beginning and talk about his past, the environment he grew up in, his relationships with others, and how I believe that has shaped the way he functions as an adult. My apologies now for being insane, unfortunately I have no life and also a lot of thoughts, and full access to a college library full of case studies- My professors would be so proud… Hope y’all enjoy lmao

Loneliness and Isolation:

One of the first things I noticed when I started playing OOT was this divide between Link and the Kokiri. Despite the fact that none of them know he’s actually a hylian, the bullying and teasing and the way they treat him for not having a fairy feels as though they’re making him to be different from them. Even Saria and the Great Deku Tree speak to/about him in ways that make it seem that, even though they care about him, they do see him as different from the others. (Granted, Saria’s treatment of Link is likely fully an unintentional thing. She doesn’t mean to be cruel when she makes her comment about how after Link got his fairy he could be a real Kokiri because she is a child and probably didn’t think about how that would come off to a kid who’s been arguably treated as less than for not having a fairy this entire time. She’s probably aware of how upset he’s been, but they’re children and I doubt she realized her attempt at comfort potentially made Time feel worse. The Great Deku Tree, on the other hand, referring to him as ‘the boy without a fairy’ immediately makes it clear to us as the player that Link is different from the Kokiri. He knows Link is hylian, which is something the player, Link, and the Kokiri do not know at this point)

Not having a fairy like the others certainly separates Time from the Kokiri because having a fairy companion appears to be a huge deal, something everyone has in common except for him. While it isn’t really on the same scale, I imagine this feeling of not having something your friends do could be, to an extent, comparable to how it would feel if all your peers had cell phones or social media access and you did not. (BAD EXAMPLE I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT.) The ability to consume media at such a fast pace and share jokes and trends with peers has become something to bond over, and being outside of that ‘world’ would leave someone to feel like they’re missing out on something they couldn’t possibly understand unless they get it for themselves. When your friends all have phones and you don’t, you have to sit there awkwardly when they all pull them out to text people or look things up, even if you’re doing something that doesn’t even require being on your phone, like going to the mall or hanging out. Sure they might show you a meme or two, but you can’t show them your memes, or share things and exist in the online world the way they do. Time could see and interact with the others’ fairies but he didn’t have that for himself, and I imagine it was probably hard for him to bond with the Kokiri because of it. Even if they were just playing a game or messing around and he wasn’t even being teased for not having a fairy of his own, those other fairies were right there as a constant reminder that Time didn’t have his own companion because he was, for a reason he couldn’t understand, different

Having played Skyward Sword and the beginning of Twilight Princess and seeing how both of those Links are treated by the people around them in comparison to how the Kokiri interact with Time, it feels safe to say there’s a good possibility he felt out of place and a little isolated by his own community. The way he was seemingly blamed for the death of the Great Deku Tree after finding out the life altering information that he is different probably did nothing but cause further divide between himself and the Kokiri in his mind, if not completely sever the connection he had between himself and that community

Do I think the Kokiri completely excluded him and intentionally tried to isolate him? No, I do not. However it’s clear that Saria was his best friend and the others weren’t always the nicest to him. It’s not too far a stretch to say he probably felt very lonely at times in his childhood, more so than the average kid

The theme of isolation and loneliness continues when the timeline shenanigans happen at the end of OOT and Time is now the only one who knows what happened to him. He has absolutely nothing to show for what he physically just went through and he can tell people about it all he wants but they’ll never understand because for them it simply never happened. Once again Time is isolated from this community he finds himself a part of because he’s different from them in a way they cannot relate to, driving a wedge between him and the rest of society. And Malon and Zelda are not people who would intentionally drive him further from feeling like he can belong, but they will forever be different from him in a way none of them now have the power to control. He formed relationships with them and with other people that were then erased. He knows a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore (in the timeline he continued to live in), and he’s alone in that. There IS no fix to that problem

Attachment Styles and Development

Relationships are crucial to child development and the connections formed when we’re young impact the way we create and view our relationships in adulthood. Peer relationships are just as important as parental ones because they play a different role. While your friends are the ones who have more of an impact on things like your music tastes, interests, and sense of identity/role within your group of peers, it’s your parents/caregivers who teach you right from wrong (often religion plays a part in that as well though not always), are responsible for feeding you and helping you learn new skills as a young child. Having a secure attachment and good relationship to caregivers when you’re young really impacts how you seek comfort as an adult and how you form relationships with others. Children whose parents or caregivers responded to their distress in unpredictable ways (by offering comfort sometimes and being unable to other at times, for an example) are less likely to seek out those figures for comfort or be soothed by them when the comfort is offered. I have no idea exactly how old Time was when he was placed with the Kokiri or what his mother was like, but I feel it’s fair to say the Great Deku Tree was probably the closest thing to a parental figure/caregiver (while he was living with the Kokiri) that he has any memory of. And I also feel it’s fair to say that as the stationary tree guardian of a bunch of immortal children, it was pretty impossible for him to support all of those kids’ emotional needs

Making this assumption based solely on Navi’s role in the story and what she does for us as players of the game: I feel like the fairy companions might almost be more of a parental/caregiver like figure to the Kokiri children than the Great Deku Tree is, simply because they’re able to be around them more. Navi helps Time (and the player) find things, gives clues, and helps the player with the game controls, so inside the actual game I think it’d be fair to say she (and other fairies) have more of a hands on role in guiding these children than the Great Deku Tree. And again, Time didn’t have that, not until his adventure started. He didn’t have a fairy companion while his friends and peers did, he was on his own. He wasn’t getting that potential comfort from a reliable caregiver the others were, which I believe can be partly responsible for how determined he is to solve his own issues. (Of course personality also has a play in things like this, and as we all know the hero’s spirit is incredibly fucking stubborn.) He was taught through the failures of the ‘adult’ figures in his life that the only one who’d be there to really comfort him was him

Identity and Relationships

Apart from feeling alone and not having the same types of companionship his peers did, I firmly believe Time seriously struggled with identity issues as well. Being told he wasn’t enough for the Master Sword yet, just to then be suddenly physically several years older and expected to operate as an adult despite having less than a decade of life experience, back to being shoved into the body of a child after living through horrors and accumulating scars that are now just gone doesn’t real make for the most confident, mentally stable of people. The message he most likely took from that was “You’re not enough as you are.”

He was a hero who saved a kingdom, then forgotten when everything was set back, and then abandoned by the one person (fairy) who went through it all with him after it was all done. If he’d felt alone or isolated in his youth before all that happened, I can’t imagine how overwhelming all those emotions were after all that. He needed Navi because she’s the only one who can really validate what he went through, she was the only one who could have understood him. She was a guardian and a friend and he couldn’t figure out why she left him, which must’ve just been absolutely devastating.

He was still just a kid, with no one to talk to about these issues. (Though he sort of works through some of them on his own through helping others in Majora’s Mask. Granted that left him with new issues even if it may have helped him work through a few old ones. I think there are quite a lot of similarities between Link and Skull Kid, but that’s a yap for another day.) I can imagine that both his identity and what he was supposed to do with himself were things he questioned constantly, and building relationships with people was probably very difficult for him when he hadn’t fully worked out himself. And he didn’t really have someone to comfort him or help him figure all that out

At a certain point, I think the feeling of being alone became almost a comfort to him. It was the most reliable thing he had, he could handle things on his own and that was something he knew for fact. He learned how to deal with his emotions and issues (maybe not in the healthiest of ways in his youth), and instead of being so suffocating, the isolation became something he could CONTROL. With all the instability throughout his childhood, the fact that he could reliably be on his own without dealing with the unpredictability of others was probably a relief. He didn’t have to worry about people leaving or getting hurt because he couldn’t protect them, but that didn’t really replace the feeling of loneliness so much as sloppily cover it up

Malon and the ranch are things that have been able to give him something he hadn’t had in years, which was stability and companionship. He’s been alone and isolated or dealing with loss his entire life, but she’s able to provide him with something steady, something safe to come back to. That’s been absolutely huge for him in regards to the healing process, because not only is it said in LU that she believes him completely, she’s literally his biggest supporter. And having a sturdy location and person to come back to at the end of whatever little trips he probably continued to go off to gave him comfort while still allowing him to keep that feeling of control over himself and his life. Sure not everything is perfect all the time and relationships are things that you have to put time, effort, and patience into, but he’s allowed to have his support and his much needed feeling of control over his life at the same time while living in that scenario. She loves him, she loves him very much and I have no doubt they worked together to get him to the place of comfort he’s at now. The panels from any of the ‘Malon�� posts are really the most relaxed we’ve seen Time for long stretches of time, it’s clear he’s been able to make a safe space for himself there

And now here’s the part where I actually talk about the recent comic update(s)!!!!!!!! (Yippee!!!)

Time is a very quiet, stoic character in LU especially when compared to the others, which are qualities that pull a lot from the hero’s shade. He’s the unofficial official leader, and he’s at a point in his life where he’s been able to work on himself and form healthy relationships (not perfect ones, but healthy ones built on communication which is clearly a struggle for him still but I cannot afford to get into that this post because that’s way too much. If y’all want a yap about that, ask me later). He puts a lot of stress and pressure onto himself, because he feels as though he’s responsible for these younger heroes, even though some of them have far more experience than he does

But in addition to this, he’s absolutely terrified of caring about people, and he’s not used to working with other people in this area of his life. Because no one sticks around, and if they do, what’s stopping the timeline from resetting somehow and taking their memory of him away? He no longer has the stability and comfort that comes with being alone because he’s forced to work with other people, other heroes who are equal to him in that regard, and people are unpredictable. And with unpredictability comes loss of control

Anger is an easier emotion for a child to process, and express themself through. This is why depression in children often manifests itself as anger. Children dealing with depression have a harder time managing and controlling their anger and can come off as snappier, inattentive, and reckless (obviously this is not the same case for every single child). While he certainly isn’t a child anymore in LU, I think Time is still someone who when overwhelmed is quick to anger, but this does not mean that he’s not kind. He’s incredibly kind and caring, and you can tell he loves everyone around him so deeply even though he’s probably a bit angry at himself for letting them all worm their way into his heart because he’s going to have to let them go some day. But still, some of that snappiness comes through even in his adult years and he’s a lot harsher with the others than I believe he intends to be. He’s not genuinely angry at them, he’s mad at the situation they’re in right now because he’s no longer responsible for just himself. He doesn’t have control anymore, and he’s probably back to feeling like a scared child who might be about to lose everyone again and he hates that

Twilight got hurt and he blames himself for it. He’s in an unfamiliar situation with people he cares a lot about who are all just as reckless and determined as he is, and he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself because in his mind if he lets something happen to one of these boys, that’s on him and he should’ve done better

Ough (A Continuation of ‘Isolation’)

In a way Time exists on a different level of the timeline. He retained memories of things that no longer exist, and he’s witnessed the rewritting of time over and over again. The timeline he was born in may no longer be the one he exists in, though it certainly branched from that original one. He has knowledge and memories of relationships that are real to only him in the timeline where he lives, and I would argue that because of this, he lives outside of society

Now this genuinely has nothing to do with anything I just wanna yap about something because The Voices, and it’s gonna be a fucking reach but if you’ve stayed this long you must find something appealing about my incoherent rambling so allow me to draw a genuinely insane comparison between Time and his existence in society and ‘The Lady of Shallot’, written in 1832 by a poet by the name of Alfred Tennyson. If you have no idea what this is, it’s incredibly short and easy to find with a quick google search, and I encourage you to read it. But for those of you who didn’t sign up for a poetry assignment today I’ll summarize

The Lady of Shallot is cursed to stay in a tower away from the rest of society and she’s unable to look upon Camelot with her own eyes, because something bad will happen if she does though she has no idea what. Day after day she creates these tapestries of what she sees of the society behind her through a mirror. She’s unable to look at it with her own eyes so what she creates is unable to perfectly reflect what it is the world has to offer. And she’s absolutely sick of it, she sees happy people wandering down below, knights riding through, she sees through her mirror what life is like for those within society and she wants to join them. She sees a beautiful man one day (Lancelot) and decides the curse is worth it, just for a chance to leave her tower, so she turns around and sees Camelot with her own eyes. She leaves her tower and goes to join society but by the time she gets there she’s dead

Now one of the meanings hidden within this is how artists are almost outside of society and that is how they are able to so accurately depict it, and that joining society and being ‘normal’ would make them unable to keep their unique perspective that isolation provides. But I’m going to be crazy here and draw parallels to a video game character because I CAN

Time exists outside of society and is isolated from every community he tries to be a part of because the differences between him and the Kokiri/normal hylian are so significant he feels like he doesn’t belong there. Despite having built his sense of identity back up, he still, to an extent, feels like an outsider. The things he’s been through separate him from being able to just be a normal guy, and he craves so badly to be part of a community he’s almost convinced himself he CANNOT join. The chain (and Malon, but mainly the other heroes) help him have something to connect to, because while they may not have the exact same experience they understand him more than anyone else ever could. He then tries to join society, something happens, and he dies a warrior full of regrets

Is it a reach? Yeah. But I like the poem and I can’t stop thinking about the parallels (that I’ve probably completely fucking made up at this point) every time I think too long about Time and it makes me claw at the dry wall and scream. I’m so normal…

Anyways, *weak cough* thanks for reading, if you did. It means a lot that you’ve supported my insanity. I hope this is coherent-

Thanks Emmie for reading through this for me 😭, and special shoutout to every single one of you who sent me asks yesterday to remind me to write this I love you all sm actually:

@trash-aged-like-fine-wine @rebornofstars @blueskybehindtheclouds @captainn-hook @ghosttoasts

#jes talks #jes ask #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #linked universe time #lu analysis #lu character analysis #this is kinda just pure insanity im so sorry #jes rambles #jes headcanons #jes analysis

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iibonniee · 1 year ago

Text

A Quick Visit | Lee Minhyuk

Pairing: Lee Minhyuk x Reader

Genre: Smut, military!minhyuk

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), angst, fluff

Rating: R

Word Count: 12k

Summary: After hearing little from her lover, he decides to give her a late-night surprise. His promise to make it up to her kept her up through the night until she could confront him in the morning.

Masterlist

It never dawned on Y/N that a lover could become a stranger just as quickly as a friend could become a stranger. Whenever distance was thrown into the mix, schedules often became too busy to keep up with simple things, such as a text back.

This fact hung heavily on Y/N’s heart as Minhyuk’s enlistment approached. Her world was suspended, dangerously swinging between past warmth and future uncertainty. The impending distance, the changing schedules, and the quiet unease that unfolded in her thoughts were a recipe for feared isolation.

Minhyuk, however, was well aware of the turbulence shaking her spirit. He could see the pain reflected in her eyes, hear the worry lacing her laughter, and sense the tension in her every touch. So, with a heart full of assurance and lips armed with loving words, he chose to bring her comfort.

“Listen,” he would gently coax, cradling her face in his steady hands, urging her eyes to lock with his. “We’ve weathered more than distance before,” he would assert, his gaze steady, voice firm yet soothing. “Our connection isn’t just measured in miles or minutes; it’s held together by something stronger, something untouchable - our love.”

His words, his steadfast belief in their unbreakable bond, were a bandage for her fears. The understanding in his eyes, his unwavering confidence in their relationship gave her a sense of peace that the tickling hands of worry struggled to displace.

She never felt wrong in her life.

As the cold dawn of Minhyuk’s enlistment day dawned, Y/N found herself standing alongside the other members of his group, their collective grief palpable in the heavy air. The sun shining above them gave her no warmth — one she needed so much but refused to offer such grace.

The stark reality of their possibly changing relationship weighed heavily on her, feeling more real and definite than any of his soothing words of assurance. Minhyuk’s farewell was marked by a kiss. Their lips met in a fragile dance, full of promise but underscored by the bitter pang of impending separation. A promise pronounced in whispers followed that emotional kiss.

“I will message and call whenever I can,” he promised, his voice as steady as the heartbeat Y/N felt against his chest. “You will be the first person to hear from me.”

He’d text and call when he could, semi-keeping to a promise he had sealed off with a kiss. Slowly, those texts and calls grew to almost nothing; his voice on the other end turned from highly expected music into hope. His silence roared louder than the busy chaos of the world and bustling city life, reminding her each day of the gaping distance between them. The absent hum of his voice in the echo of their shared home was a cruel reminder of his unkept promise.

His empty assurances seemed like beautiful lies that momentarily conjured an illusion of hope. Realization washed over her in waves, each more painful than the last. The familiar tang of disappointment filled her mouth, more bitter than any foreboding doubt she had ever held. Despite his comforting words and promises, it seemed she had misplaced her trust. It was a harsh lesson in reality, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the gap between Minhyuk’s words and his actions.

She tried to ignore how her heart broke when she heard of his first appearance since he enlisted. How her teary eyes that begged to burst would only lead to a shaky blur of colors on her phone screen, a nightmare unfolding in high definition. Seeing him as she did, standing in the middle of his adoring crowd, the same fans who were now privileged to his time and attention, while she, the keeper of his whispered dreams and knelt promises, was left to glean his whereabouts from impersonal news updates.

His oblivious smiles and joy were like perfectly timed daggers to her bleeding heart, each moment of rich laughter and vivid enjoyment amplifying her agony. The jarring contrast between the joyous Minhyuk in the photos and the silent Minhyuk in her messages was a brutal, unvoiced slap of betrayal.

Her hands quivered, the phone screen dancing dangerously under wet eyelashes as her promised-to-be-steadied heart clattered down an abyss, fragmenting with every bump of the descent. His absence had been a lingering wound, raw and tender. Still, his blatant disregard — veiled under joyous fancon celebrations — was an insidious poison, slowly dulling her senses until only anguish echoed in hollow places.

Each image of a laughing Minhyuk, each snippet of his well-chosen remarks were hideous amplifications of his silence towards her. The vacant space she had reserved for his communication, his comforting words had now become a desolate island of unvoiced sorrows, painfully reflecting his undelivered promises. Yet, his presence and joy elsewhere signaled that he held time — time that he chose not to share with her, time that she desperately wished to be a part of.

The added knowledge that he held free hours unspoken to her carved the wound deeper, sparking an anguish that scorched through her veins, branding her heart with the bitter aftertaste of betrayal. She had believed they shared a common longing in his silence, but he had etched a cavernous rift between them in his actions. The stark revelation shattered her hope, leaving her grappling with the shards of her trust and their shattered relationship.

That night, the moon was her helping friend. Keeping her company where her heart didn’t. Her mind was a mess of self-hatred and self-doubt mixed into one grueling nightmare that refused to let her sleep. The silence of their apartment, once filled with his laughter and murmurs of love, was now a grim orchestra of her sobs and whispered grievances. The eerie glow of the moonlight, seeping softly through the cracks of the blinds, became the sole witness of her despair, casting long, lonely shadows around the room. Another source that seemed to show her unsaid words of pity.

She contemplated calling off work, giving in to the relentless pain that coursed through her, but the thought of being alone in the apartment that echoed his absence was overwhelming. The thought of the empty silence reminded her unbearably of his quiet disregard for their shared dreams, reflecting their empty relationship.

As the dawn approached, she decided to face the world outside - not for the sake of carrying out her tasks but as a refuge from the solitude. The tiny computer screen at her desk at work was a less painful alternative to the daunting emptiness of the apartment.

Walking through the doors of her workplace, she found comfort not in the friendly greetings from her colleagues nor in the mundane tasks that filled her day but in the sheer act of survival. Each passing hour was a bitter testament to her crumbling heart bearing the weight of his betrayal, a reminder that despite the sorrowful echo in the hollow spaces of her soul, she could — and would — move on.

Her heart – the thing that had dealt the most pain – would never listen to the silly things her brain would tell her. Not even when his groupmates would message her, asking her if he stopped by to say hello and that they missed her and to never be afraid to reach out to them.

“No.” She wanted to so desperately write back. “No, he didn’t come by to see me. How does it feel knowing that he chose you guys over me? How does it feel knowing that my heart is tearing itself apart because he would rather not talk to me but would spend his free time being with you guys?”

But as much as her heart was breaking and everything inside of her was holding back, the tears that felt like one wrong push would completely throw her over the edge.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks!” That was all she messaged back before turning her phone off when she noticed her messages were still set to deliver.

Tucking the small device back into her pocket, she offered a strained smile to the coworkers passing by her desk. Every tick of the clock marked another second she was away from the eerie silence of their shared apartment. Each passing moment of the day distracted her mind just enough to keep the tears she’d been holding back from spilling over the edge.

She couldn’t help but cast furtive glances at the phone she had taken out of her pocket for momentary relief, half-dreading and half-hoping for a message from him. But with every passing hour, the anticipation dissolved into disappointment, each confirmation that he still hadn’t reached out to her stinging like a fresh cut on an old wound.

In an office filled with people, conversation, and the hum of life, her solitude never felt more profound. As the day wore on, a sense of dread seeped into her heart. It wasn't the dread of heartbreak, however, but the dread of having to return to an empty home, knowing that she'd be greeted by nothing more than the echoing silence of his absence and perhaps the bitterness along with the shadow of what used to be happiness.

As nightfall approached, she steeled herself. Bracing herself for the long night ahead, she cast one last glance at her silent phone, let out a soft sigh, and began her reluctant journey back home to the ghost of her lover.

The journey back was a blur, a haze of city lights blending with the memory of his smile. As she unlocked the door to their shared apartment, she found herself hoping against hope that he'd be there. Every creak of the wooden floor, every shadow cast by the dim hallway light, echoed a faint possibility of his presence lurking in some corner – a hush greeting, a cozy comfort.

However, the reality was rather stark. The apartment greeted her with a cold emptiness, an echoing silence that amplified the loneliness. The couch lay bereft of his rumpled form, the kitchen devoid of his lingering warmth, and the bedroom mocked her with his untouched side of the bed. She peeked into rooms filled with his absence, her expectations crumbling into an overwhelming sense of despair.

Every nook, cranny, and piece of furniture they'd picked out together now held the aftertaste of his memory. The laughter, shared dreams, and cozy movie nights hung around the apartment like ghostly shadows, a poignant contrast to the present reality. Echoes of their love story played out in painful silence as she navigated her way through the house, a creeping dread settling in her heart with every step.

She would have to face yet another night of longing, another night of silent tears, another night of yearning for a presence long gone. Another night of learning to unlove the ghost of her lover on her own. Yet, she held on, dreading the solitude but embracing it as well, because it was in this solitude that she realized her strength, found the ability to stand amidst the ruins of her heart, and still hope for a better tomorrow.

Navigating her way through the dimly lit apartment felt like exploring a forgotten, treasured moment of the past. The remnants of shared life still clung to the subtlest corners of the house – the picture frames capturing their warm smiles, the hand-picked furniture that had held their shared dreams, the cozy spots touch-marked by their settled bodies during movie nights. All were silent spectators to the drama of absence that unfolded in front of her, each object a trigger to a memory, each memory a knife twisting deeper into her heart.

Her footsteps took her to the door of an old, rarely-used room. A stab of pain hit her as she stepped inside his painting room. The scent of paint and turpentine, the hastily wiped brushes, and the blank canvas on the easel mocked her with their lifeless silence. His room, a sanctuary once filled with vibrant life and color with the mix of laughter and happy cries, was now a tangible echo of his absence. She froze, taking in all the painful details, her heart heavy with the cruel reality mirrored in the lifeless brushes and color tubes.

With a sigh, she turned away from the room, her heart aching with a longing she could no longer quench. Navigating her way through the rest of the house was a bleak journey. Hints of the love they once shared haunted her steps, whispering the past into her ears with every soft creak of the wooden floor.

Wrapped in the solitude of their shared memories, she finally climbed into bed. The room, still bearing the faint residue of his scent, enveloped her in its cold embrace. Alone in the vast expanse of the bed they once shared, she felt the full force of his absence. But amidst this profound loneliness, she found a fragment of her fading strength — a resilience defying the melancholy of the deserted space.

In the hushed serenity of the night, the soft glow of the moon cast a gentle light on her slumbering form. Still lost in her dreams, a faint trail of affectionate kisses began to awaken her from the deep realm of sleep. The delicate pecks started from the shell of her ear, feather-light as they gently traced the curve of her neck and danced down her bare back. Each slight touch, though subtle, stirred her slowly from her peaceful slumber, sparking a soft, pleasing tingle on her skin. A quiet smile graced her lips as she was softly drawn back to consciousness, the hushed whispers of the night broken only by the beat of her quickening heart — a rhythmic replacement for the silence of her once-shared apartment.

The more she was pulled from her dreams, the more aware she became. The soft kisses she had started to welcome soon had her body jerking away in panic, her heart racing as she almost allowed herself to fall victim to whoever decided to break into her home while the night was probably still young. She was more awake as the white sheets gripped her body as she scooted further from the unknown figure.

The figure was silent and hunched over. The silence that filled the room only caused her more panic as she tried to shuffle away more and more, only to be stopped the moment the figure snapped out of the shock they were in and began to blindly reach out for her.

“Relax.” The voice spoke, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. The more she struggled, the more the figure held onto her tighter. “Baby, relax.”

His voice was a warm contrast to the hostile atmosphere, carrying a soothing yet firm tone that seeped into her panic-stricken senses. It triggered a quick flash of recognition, causing her racing heart to skip a beat. She squinted, just catching the outline of a familiar frame bathed in the weak moonlight, and the tension in her body somewhat abated.

It was him. The figure she had been dreading becoming a stranger. Suddenly, the intruder was no more. It was him — her partner, her lover — whose absence had begun redefining their shared space’s silence.

His hand was warm, and his grip was gentle yet reassuring. The circles he absently traced on her forearm coaxed soothing waves across her agitated frame. The familiar whispery rasp that her ears cherished, the same voice she hadn’t heard in weeks. It was back, drizzling over the tense room.

The fog of panic slowly lifted as the realization settled — he was home. Her heart rate decelerated, the drumming against her ribs fading to a soft thump. She felt a hint of wetness tracing the curve of her cheek — tears, relief, or pent frustrations, she couldn’t tell.

A soft sigh escaped him, the quietest apology. He still held her closer, his grasp a desperate attempt to anchor themselves against the tide of emotions threatening to unchain. Even a slight parting, and they could be swept away back into those weeks of silence.

“Welcome home…” She mumbled faintly, her voice cloaked in relief. As he muttered a quiet “sorry,” they began to mend the silence of her once lonely apartment, filling it with breaths of a shared life. She began to blink, a frown spreading across her face as she had almost wanted to attack him. As she sat there in silence, she began to scowl at the unplanned entrance her lover made.

“I missed you.” He mumbled, his lips kissing the inside of her palm. With the light from the moon, she could tell that her lover was still dressed in his military uniform, no doubt just coming from his base. “I needed to see you; I need you. Please tell me you need me too and missed me as much as I missed you.”

His words were muffled as he continued to kiss her. They were laced with desperation as he moved onto the bed. She could barely see how his eyes flicked up to meet hers, desperation mixed with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Have you been behaving?” He was quick to ask, seemingly uncaring if she had answered him or not. His fingers were quick to rip the sheet away, and a deep-throated groan emitted from his throat as he enjoyed the lack of clothes she presented for him.

His hands moved wherever they could attach, squeezing and teasing her skin as they traveled down her body - from her collarbones to her breasts, down to the curve of her hips. The touch was familiar yet different, carrying an alien edge in its urgency, sending a flurry of mixed emotions through her.

Having caught her breath, she managed to choke out a shaky “yes” while fighting a fresh wave of panic. She was no longer sure if it was fear or something else entirely - a lingering sense of longing, perhaps.

He huffed, the hint of a smile barely visible in the dim moonlight. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, sending waves of electricity down her spine. His fingers traced along the curve of her hips, the touch almost agonizingly slow. It was a reminder, a homecoming, and despite the onslaught of fear and confusion, a part of her relished it.

However, a significant part of her shivered under the unexpected strangeness of his touch. Something had changed either in him or in their once-shared intimacy. Whether it was just weeks of silence from him or how much she had missed his touch. She wasn’t sure what felt so different.

The silence that had vaguely started weaving around them was now a tangible bowl of questions and insecurities, a scenario she dreaded to unravel. Five months of almost nothing, often barely a greeting other than a simple message, and her only updates often being from social media, had her hesitating.

Her hand caught his, forcing him to halt his exploration. Even in the dim light, his eyes held her gaze, silently asking for an explanation. It was a moment of vulnerable truth they had to face now - their love, their bond kept under the magnifying glass, exposed and examined. The silent echoes of their once-shared apartment now called for answers, and she hoped they had them.

“You never told me you were coming home.” She whispered, her eyes never leaving his own as his shoulders fell in slight defeat. “You hardly message me. You never came to visit me when you were able to…”

“I wanted to surprise you,” He began, moving closer to her once more to kiss the corner of her lip, “Are you unhappy to see me, my love?” He pushed, “Have you not missed me as much as I missed you? Baby, I’m ready to explode. I need you. I’m so needy. I can’t wait. I need you. I need to be inside you. I want to taste you again. I fucking need you. Let me make up for lost time. For not visiting you when I could, please…”

Her eyes observed his movements. Her gasp was loud as he pulled her body down and forced her legs around his waist, allowing his hard-on to brush against her exposed cunt.

“Let me taste you, baby,” Minhyuk whined, waiting for her answer.

His begging eyes held a dark promise, a sinful invitation that she found impossible to resist. She gently caressed his face, a slight smirk gracing her lips.

“Alright, love,” she eventually conceded, her tone laced with suspense. Her heart pounded as a flare of anticipation passed between them.

Minhyuk’s eyes sparked with victory and desire. He bent his head downwards, his husky voice whispering promises of pleasure as he began his descent, further trailing his hands down her body, elevating their intimate dance to a symphony of tantalizing sensations. This, she realized belatedly, was the intoxicating blend of lust and love - an enticing whirlpool of desire and fulfillment - sinfully smutty yet unbelievably romantic.

He wasted no time sliding down the bed until his eyes met her needy cunt. His lips parted as he reveled at the sight, his breath hitching in anticipation.

“So beautiful…” he muttered, his husky voice like warm velvet against her skin. His thumb gently teased her clit, causing her to gasp at the sudden sensation. A wicked smile curved on his lips, hearing her sweet whimper.

“Minhyuk…” she breathed, her voice barely audible under the storm of her desire. He looked up, his gaze holding a fiery promise.

His tongue traced a languid path from her entrance up to her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. A triumphant hum came from him, adding extra sensation to her already sensory build-up. He lavished his attention, alternating between a slow lick and a quick flick, building her anticipation and desire to an excruciating peak.

“Don’t rush, love…” he murmured against her heated core, intoning sinful promise. His aroused gaze met hers, his hands keeping her steady as she writhed under him, futilely trying to get more friction. He chuckled, the sound vibrating delectably against her, sending spasms of pleasure through her. He relished her taste, appreciating their intimacy and closeness, entirely giving himself to her pleasure. He loved to tremendously arouse her longing, driving her to the sweet edge of ecstasy. “Just let it happen naturally…” He whispered darkly, resuming his torturous pace. “I’ll have you cumming in my mouth soon enough. I’ll take care of you.”

“Minhyuk…” she whimpered out, every cell in her body reaching out for his touch. Her legs trembled around him as minutes stretched into an eternity, proving his promise true. Her fingers gripped tighter at the sheets, her breath ragged and hitched in anticipation.

Every sensation was amplified, magnified by the intimate patience with which he worshipped her. The sound of his name on her lips was a sweet symphony to his ears, a clear sign of her impending release. He continued his skillful play, his tongue against her heat, his breath fanning over her wetness, fueling her desire further.

Her hips rolled up, meeting his lips in a desperate plea, and her body quivered, a clear sign of her impending climax. At her first spasm, he pulled back just slightly, only to dive back in, latching his mouth over her clit and sucking gently. The wave came crashing down, her body convulsing under the influence of a mind-numbing orgasm ripping through her. He held her close, his mouth still busied with drawing out all of her pleasure till her high receded, and she lay panting and spent, the taste of her climax still fresh on his lips.

“I told you, love,” he murmured against her oversensitive skin, his voice muffled by her thigh. His words were punctuated with a final, gentle lick as she shuddered again, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Their eyes met, his holding a promise of more to come as she rode the waves of satisfaction washing over her. “I’ve got you.”

Kissing her thighs, Minhyuk left open-mouth kisses all over her stomach and neck until his lips found hers once again. The kiss was impatient and greedy. Y/N knew her lover was close to breaking, and he would no longer wait for his own release.

“I’m done waiting.” He mumbled as he began undoing his pants. “I need you so fucking badly. Can your cunt handle me, baby?”

He watched as she nodded her head eagerly.

“You sure?” He teased, determination lacing his voice. His eyes were filled with fiery intensity and primal hunger that she found intoxicating.

“Yes.” She gasped out, her voice barely audible.

With an approving grunt, he shed his clothes remaining, revealing his arousal in its full hardness. His eye glistened with lust as he ran his fingers through her slick folds, collecting her excitement before smoothing it on himself.

Positioning himself at her entrance, he locked his gaze with hers. This act wasn’t just about penetration; it meant more than that. It mirrored the depth of their desires, the yearning they carried for each other within their hearts.

Slowly, he began his descent into her, finding her wet and ready for him. A tempting purr escaped her at his initial thrust, causing him to twitch within her. “God, you’re so tight.”

With that said, he began to move deeper into her, each thrust showing his intense need. He was slow, then fast - every push and pull creating waves of pleasure rippling through their bodies. Her eyes rolled back as an uncontrollable moan escaped her lips, fingers clutching onto his back as they rhythmically moved as one.

His name was a plead, a whisper, and then a scream that sounded with the collision of their bodies - a sweet harmony to their undying chorus of love and lust.

Their room flooded with sounds of their wild abandonment, gasps, and whispers of their names. He loved every reaction she gave with his deep thrusts into her, the way she arched her body, meeting his. Each grunt and moan they shared in their intimate congress was a reminder of the passion that had bound them together.

And just as the crescendo of their communion was about to be reached, he positioned himself even deeper, looking into her eyes as he thrust hard one last time. A loud cry escaped her lips, her body tensing and convulsing as he followed shortly after, their releases mingling together in a decadent tapestry of absolute, raw, sexual bliss.

All that was left was silence, save for their ragged breaths in unison, the only evidence of passion played out just moments ago, a symphony of their love and lust. He gazed at her, sweat-soaked and satisfied.

“I love you.” He whispered, kissing her deeply. “I love you, I love you. Fuck, I missed you. I miss seeing you every single day. I fucking miss you, baby. I’m going crazy without you.”

His words were like silent chants as his fingers found her own. She observed her lover carefully. Each word of praise and compliments felt like kisses to her body. She heard him sniffle, his head falling down in defeat, but she felt his warm tears kiss her skin.

“Min…” Her words were soft as she cupped his face. The moonlight didn’t hide his red face as he cried. “I’m here.”

She watched as he fell beside her, his head finding comfort on her chest as he cried silently. He was weak and vulnerable. All she could do was hold him close and remind him that even though his time was limited with her, she’d value all time with him.

Kissing the crown of his head, she whispered soothing words, threading her fingers through his hair until his sobs subsided, an unspoken promise to weather the storm together hanging between them. This newfound reality was a cruel one, yet she held on because love, she knew, transcended the limitations of time.

That night, sleep evaded her. She watched him eventually succumb to slumber, his body heavily sunk against her as if seeking refuge from the inevitable. Suddenly, the night seemed longer, each tick of the clock echoing ominously in the dimmed room. Her eyes gazed outside the window, tracing the stars in a futile attempt to find guidance in their ancient twinkling light.

The next morning dawned, bringing with it the familiar blush of an early sunrise. In the soft, warm glow, his face was serene, oblivious to the anger and unfairness of their situation.

Sorrow washed over her as she slipped out of his hold. She cloaked herself in this brief solitude, allowing the tears to flow in quiet rebellion against the day that promised to chip away a piece of their borrowed time. The typical morning noises - birdsong, the hum of distant traffic sounded surprisingly devoid of joy.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air in the kitchen, battling her welling despair with its familiar comfort. As she prepared breakfast, she fought back the lump in her throat. The simple act spoke volumes of her unvoiced fears and hidden hopes, a poignant symbol of unsaid declarations.

However, with each passing second, anger slowly filled her body and pushed away the sadness that crept up. She blinked away the tears, hating how the new ones were replaced with angry ones. She hated how easily she fell for his apology. How he left her without much for months on end and decided he’d instead not visit her while he could.

Her inhale was shaky, and the countertop was cold beneath her hands, a silent pillar of support. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and distractions, all dangerously teetering on the precipice of weariness that slowly invaded her soul due to lack of sleep.

Before she could brace herself, she heard movement behind her. Minhyuk was awake. She turned to see his sleep-ruffled hair as he blinked away sleep’s haze.

“Why are you up so early?” He asked, a veneer of casualness looming over his curiosity. She watched as he held out his hand, an invite he’d hoped she’d take. “Come back to bed. We can worry about breakfast later.”

Her heart pounded, a drumbeat loud in her ears. Taking a deep breath, she finally voiced out the thought that had been gnawing at her since the night before. “We need to talk about how you barely keep in contact.”

Minhyuk froze, his eyes wide open in surprise. The silence that enveloped them was deafening, amplifying the harsh reality of her words. She locked eyes with Minhyuk, whose confusion slowly fell away to be replaced with a flicker of understanding and then guilt.

“Why didn’t you keep in touch?” she asked quietly, the weight of that seemingly simple question filling up the space between them. Each word echoed around in their shared silence, a stark indictment of his absence.

“But I…” he began, stumbling over his words, lost for justification. She stood firm, her resolve unwavering. This was a conversation that had been overdue, a piece of their shared reality that had to be addressed. Through her weariness, she found the strength—and anguished determination—to face him and demand answers, even if they promised to unravel the delicate ambiance of their morning. “I’m sorry.”

She watched as the walls around her lover caved in. His eyes looked away from her own, fresh tears prickling away and wishing to fall when given the right time. She knew she had backed him into a corner he didn’t want to be in. But that’s how she felt when he greeted her with nothing.

Minhyuk gulped, visibly struggling with words. “I… I didn’t want my absence to hurt you.” His attempt at explanation seemed to hang in the air, a feeble defense against her palpable anguish. “Fuck – that’s not an excuse, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“But it did hurt, Minhyuk,” she replied, trembling. “It hurt because you were not here. Because you chose to hide from me instead of talking to me. It felt like I was trying to talk to a ghost.”

His gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet the raw hurt in her eyes. The silence grew more poignant between them, the air filled with unthinkable pain and regret. His silence only spurred the sense of sadness, of betrayal that was bubbling within her.

“Why Minhyuk?” She asked again, her voice barely a whisper but carrying a weight that suddenly seemed too heavy to bear. His silence was answer enough. It echoed the months of lonely nights and fearful days, the unattended messages, the unanswered calls, the unsaid words that should have bridged their distance but instead widened it.

Minhyuk drew in a shaky breath, tears and regret moistening his eyes. He opened his mouth, finally ready to answer, willing to brave the storm of emotions threatening to drown them both. Their borrowed time was ticking away just as their challenging conversation was only getting started.

“I was scared. I… It’s not like I’m away on tour. This is different for both of us. I’m trying, but I’m scared you won’t wait for me,” Minhyuk confessed, his voice echoing vulnerability and fear.

“And that’s why you chose to distance yourself?” she asked, her tone laced with bitterness. “You made the choice for me? You decided I wouldn’t wait without even giving me a chance to decide for myself?”

He looked flustered, a shadow of his usually confident self. “I… I guess I did. I was just trying to protect you, to protect us,” he stammered.

She gave a hollow laugh. “And look how well that turned out.” Her sarcasm was a bitter pill, a harsh realization of their predicament. She breathed deeply, “We weather what comes together, Minhyuk. That’s what love is. You don’t get to decide what I can and cannot handle.”

His gaze met hers once more, tear-streaked but resolute. Silence enveloped them again, but this time, it wasn’t one of confusion or guilt but of understanding and, hopefully, resolve for better communication in their uncertain future.

“How fucking dare you?” She hissed, pointing at him as angered tears brimmed her eyes, “How dare you walk in here and think that just because you fucked me that I’d forgive you? That it would make anything okay? Minhyuk, I waited for you! Months and months! All I got from you were twice-a-week texts when I was lucky and videos of you attending the boy’s concert. How is it okay for me to see you on social media but not in person? Not until last night when you were too horny to control yourself. To actually wake me up like a normal person would.”

She watched as Minhyuk stood there, listening to her anger-filled words. There was a mix of emotions in his eyes - regret, self-reproach, and a deep-seated sadness. He appeared as if her words had physically pained him, but he made no move to defend himself. Instead, he stood there, absorbing each painful accusation, each sniffle, each tear that slipped from her eyes.

Minhyuk raised a shaky hand to his face, brushing away a stray tear from his eye. He watched her momentarily - the woman he claimed to love, yet unintentionally hurt. The silence settled around them, filling the room with tension and desolation.

“We knew from the start, Y/N, it was going to be hard juggling both my career and our relationship,” Minhyuk started, his voice raspy as he tried to steady his breathing, “But I let things spiral out of control. I admit that. Last night…,” he paused, looking away briefly, “Last night was wrong on so many levels. I was selfish, desperate to be close to you again in whatever way possible.”

Slowly, Minhyuk moved towards her, his actions filled with caution, but she did not flinch or move away. Instead, she watched him with tear-filled eyes, her anger dissipating into a silent plea for understanding.

He reached out for her again, testing the waters to see if she would move. His shoulders fell in relief as she allowed his hand to hold hers. It was a silent step in the right direction. Hopeful he was making the right moves.

“I won’t beg for your forgiveness or try to sugarcoat my mistakes. But I need you to know,” he continued, “that I never took you lightly. When I was with the boys, going to concerts, you were always on my mind. I promised you my heart, Y/N, not just my free time.”

She could see the sincerity in Minhyuk’s eyes. It did not heal the breach, but it was a start. There was a lot he needed to explain and make up for. But at least they communicated openly and honestly for the first time in many months. It was a step towards understanding, even if forgiveness was still miles away.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you. I should’ve told you I was free. I just… I fucked up. I don’t want to lose you. Let me make it up to you. Properly this time. The way you deserve it.”

His words echoed through the room, filled with desperation and regret. He stood before her, stripped of all pretenses, laying bare his emotions. In this moment, humility replaced his usually bold demeanor, and the heartfelt sincerity shone through.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her, Y/N couldn’t ignore the genuine regret etched onto Minhyuk’s face. For the first time, perhaps, he truly understood the pain he had caused and the magnitude of his mistakes. Amidst the lingering anger, a feeble spark of compassion ignited in her heart.

Finally, she spoke softly and tentatively, “It’s not about making up, Minhyuk. It’s about change. It’s about understanding what went wrong and ensuring it doesn’t happen again.”

Minhyuk nodded, accepting her terms unconditionally. He pulled her into his arms, his lips kissing her forehead as he always did when he was genuinely sorry.

“I promise, Y/N.” He whispered, his lips unmoving from kissing her forehead. “Come back to bed with me. You have me until tomorrow. I’m all yours.”

With a quiet acknowledgment of her words, he wrapped his arms around her, guiding her toward the bedroom. It was evident that he was full of remorse about what had happened, and he was eager to make things right. He was warm behind her, his body curving naturally against hers.

They moved together in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. The creaky floorboards beneath their feet echoed their tentative steps, and the soft cast of the morning sunlight cast a soft glow on their faces. As they stepped back into the room, the air grew heavy with unspoken words and understanding. The bed was unmade and inviting, a beacon of comfort in the otherwise empty apartment.

The sheets, still warm from their prior slumber, welcomed them in its embrace. He carefully climbed in first, patting beside himself and inviting her to join him. He watched as she hesitantly climbed in next to him, crawling under the covers before turning to face him. His eyes scanned her face, taking in its every contour, every remnant of their shared grief and unspoken understanding.

He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. His hold was comforting yet painfully familiar, reigniting the spark that once existed between them. His fingers traced patterns on her skin, a mindless action that used to put her right to sleep. His lips pressed against her forehead in a gentle kiss, an act of apology, of promise.

“I promise, Y/N,” he whispered against her skin, his voice barely audible. The words, laden with sincerity, echoed in the room’s silence. His promise hung heavy in the air, intertwining with the quiet hum of the night. “I - I know my promises may not mean too much to you... but this time is different.”

His hold tightened around her as they lay in the quiet room, his fingers tracing familiar patterns on her skin as she turned her back to him, allowing him to pull her as close as possible, spooning her. Despite his best efforts, sleep refused to claim her. Minhyuk sensed her restlessness, her untold thoughts echoing in the silence that stretched between them.

Deciding to break the silence, he whispered, “Y/N, how have you been?”

“Minhyuk, I’ve been terrible.” Her hesitant breath hitched at his question, and she responded with brutal honesty. The words were strained, and a bitter laugh devoid of humor escaped her lips. She took a calming breath before continuing, “I cry every day, you know. And my coworkers... oh god, the pity in their eyes, Minhyuk. It’s unbearable.” Her voice shivered, her pain bleeding through her words. “Every day I waited for you... hoping for something, anything. But I was met with nothing.”

As she spoke, he felt his heart clench. Each word was like a strike against his chest. His arms instinctively closed tighter around her, an attempt to pull her closer, if possible, to shield her from any more pain. But even as he did so, he realized it was him causing the pain. His promises of change rang hollow in his ears compared to her raw and truthful suffering.

Despite his comforting hold, shared warmth, and the quiet hum of the morning light, sleep continued to elude them. In its stead, guilt, regret, and a longing for repentance again settled over Minhyuk.

Her honest confession shocked Minhyuk, its raw intensity piercing through the fragile silence. Each word she spoke was laden with a bitter agony that stung him to the core. Her reality, shaped by his indiscretions, rocked him to reality. The words ‘terrible,’ ‘crying,’ and ‘pity’ echoed in his mind, searing his heart with a guilt that was becoming increasingly unbearable.

He clung to her desperately, his embrace tightening as if to shield her from the pain he himself had inflicted. Yet each word she uttered, the honesty behind her pain, shattered his illusion of being her protector. Every confession she whispered made him understand that he was not the guardian but the monster from whom she needed protection.

The anguish in his heart welled up, and his eyes welled up with unshed tears, spreading a wet warmth on his cheeks. His breath hitched as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, hoping she wouldn’t hear his silent sobs. The realization, the hard-hitting reality of the pain he had inflicted on her, was a torment he had never predicted.

As sleep remained far from the pair, a wrenching guilt seeped into him, pooling around his heart. He held her close, his apology hanging heavily in the shared silence. His quiet tears continued to soak their shared pillow, a tangible testament to his regret and an act of repentance for his transgressions. Every ticking second, his guilt grew, blossoming into a suffocating remorse that stagnated the air around them.

His guilt reached an unbearable intensity, smothering him under its weight. With shuddering breaths and teardrop-laden eyes, he mustered up the courage to break the silence. Fragile and burdened with regret, his voice was hardly above a whisper, “Y/N... I’m... I’m so sorry.”

The words felt inadequate, a pitiful attempt to convey the ocean of remorse that swam within him. Each syllable chipped away at his composure, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to her. His tears continued to fall, leaving warm trails on his cheeks. The same tears that held no care if they wet her shoulders. His body shook with silent sobs, tremors of guilt that reverberated between them.

“I was... I was wrong,” he admitted, the words a mere breath against her hair. “I hurt you... you didn’t deserve any of this.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, his apology tainting the once comforting silence.

He broke further with each word he uttered, a solemn testament to his regret. The guilt within him crackled and ate away at his composure, each ticking second grating at his resolve. Facing the magnitude of his transgressions, he found himself on the precipice of despair, teetering on the edge of a chasm that threatened to swallow him whole.

In his state of desolation, Minhyuk clung to her, desperate for a semblance of stability as he navigated the tumultuous storm of his remorse. The anguished vulnerability that gripped him served as a stark reminder of the path of pain and distress he had inflicted upon her. Absorbed in his spiral of regret, sleep remained a distant echo, replaced by the unending cycle of apologies that streamed from his broken heart. His anguish echoed in the silence, a stark contrast to the harmonious hum of the morning enveloping them.

Taking a shaky breath, he looked up at the ceiling with tear-stained eyes, his voice stuttering in his remorse. “After the fancon... I regretted not coming to see you,” he admitted the words carrying an immense weight of guilt. He could still remember the joy in the fans’ eyes, a stark contrast to the pain he had caused her. “I fucking hated myself.”

His laughter with the fans and the camaraderie he shared with them was a gut-wrenching reminder of the time he could have, should have, spent with her. Was the joy he felt worth the pain he had caused her? The answer was painfully evident.

“I consumed myself in self-hatred for weeks.” His voice was barely a whisper, fervent yet pained. Each word seemed to scrape at his throat as if the vocal embodiment of his regret was just as painful as the emotional turmoil within him. “And I... I got even more scared to message you because I knew... I knew you saw everything. I was scared you’d hate me. That you would realize I was never good for you, that you deserve someone who can give you their time.”

His confession was met with silence, further amplifying the heavy echo of his guilt. His body shook, trembling under the weight of his regret. It was almost as if confessing his remorse carved open wounds within him, the anguish seeping out and staining the silence between them.

Every passing second was a painful reminder of his what he had done, his guilt growing like a malignant tumor within him. His regret had become an unending cycle, suffocating him with remorse to the point where sleep remained a distant desire. His hushed apologies and silent sobs stayed suspended in the air in stark contrast to the harmonic hum of the night, filling the room with an unbearable heaviness.

Lost in his storm of regret, Minhyuk clung to her, yearning for the stability and warmth she always provided him, a stark reminder of what he had so carelessly discarded.

“Say something...please,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper in the dense stillness. Despite his trembling form and tear-streaked face, he mustered the courage to break the silence again. The void of her response scared him, the silence morphing into a beast threatening to consume his sanity. He was terrified of losing her, losing the only solace he had known amidst the chaos he had created. “Please Y/N...”

In a desperate attempt to see her reaction, to gauge her feelings, he gently turned her to face him. The sight that met him was as tormenting as the silence. Her features, usually radiant and warm, were dull and tear-streaked, mirroring his own despair. Her silent tears were a stark, painful echo of his actions, of the harm he had caused.

The reality of their shared suffering intensified his guilt, making it an almost tangible presence in the room. His apology felt inadequate, a feeble attempt against the pain he saw mirrored in her eyes. His wrongdoings and choices led them to this point of shared agony. Every tick of the clock reminded him of his actions and the remorse that was now their companion.

The air was heavy, almost tangible, with the weight of his guilt, the despair radiating from him in waves. Sleep remained a distant dream, replaced by the relentless grip of regret tightening around him. The muffled echo of his sobs and the harsh contrast of their anguish against the peaceful morning only highlighted the gravity of the turmoil within them. Clinging to her, he sought solace amidst this storm, the warmth of her presence amidst the cold dread of his regret. The realization of the depth of pain he had inflicted loomed ominously, a cruel taunt of the love he had so recklessly mishandled.

She made an attempt to speak, yet her voice wavered, choked by tears and the overwhelming wave of hurt he had inflicted upon her. The sound, or rather the lack of it, crushed him further. He held her tighter as though the strength of his embrace could blot out the cruel reality of their situation.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he gasped between sobs. Apologies poured from him, a cascade of remorse, grief, and desperation. Each word was a palpable fragment of his guilt, echoing in the oppressive silence of their shared space. His voice was a broken whisper, the raw edge of emotions making it almost inaudible.

“I’ll... I’ll do better,” he promised, clinging to her like a lifeline as if she was the only thing anchoring him in his sea of regret. “I’ll try to... to wrap up early, be home with you... You need - deserve better. More than I’ve given you.”

The admission ripped through him, a brutal acknowledgment of how profoundly he had failed her. The hands that held her trembled, reverberating the aftershocks of his guilt through her. She was crying silently, a damning testament to his actions.

His guilt was a suffocating entity in the room, a hovering ghost casting long shadows over what was once their respite. His hushed promises and tear-laden apologies hung in the air, each a testimony of his pain and regret. His desperation echoed in the cruel morning silence, bouncing off the walls and seeping into every corner of their shared space. It was an inescapable reminder of his recklessness, a stark contrast to the serenity the morning glow, under different circumstances, would usually bring. His hell was one of his own making, a torment born from his choices, his regret a constant companion.

“Maybe... maybe I don’t deserve you, Y/N. Fuck, I definitely don’t deserve you,” he confessed, burying his face in her hair. “But I need you... I can’t do this without you. I’m too selfish to let you go,” he admitted his voice a thread of barely contained anguish. His hands, trembling and unsure, gently cupped her face, his thumb lightly tracing the trail of tears that stained her cheeks. Her anguish, a damning testament of his actions, was clear and evident in the tear tracks. “Is that so wrong? Why am I so fucking selfish with you when I push you away? I’m a monster.”

As if to assuage his guilt and offer a wordless apology, he pressed tender kisses on her forehead, temples, and cheeks, each one a silent vow. His lips lingered a moment longer on each tear-stained spot as if hoping to kiss away the hurt he himself had caused.

The room was filled with his whispered promises, his broken apologies, each word raw and heavy with regret. The atmosphere clung onto each syllable, echoing his desperation throughout their shared space. He clung to her, his lifeline in the turbulent sea of guilt and regret. Her warmth was a harsh reminder of what he stood to lose, of the love he had so foolishly mishandled.

Despite the despair that gripped him, despite the guilt that threatened to consume him, Minhyuk held onto hope. A hope that was encapsulated in her, a hope that she would find it in her heart to forgive him, to give him another chance. Yet, her silence and tears tore at him more painfully than her words ever could. His hell was a torment of his own making, a grave he had dug out for himself with his recklessness and disregard.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice trembled, mirroring her emotions. Wracked with sobs and choked with tears, she uttered, “Minhyuk...”

The sound of his name, laced with so much pain, hurt more than any words of reprimand could. It was a brutal echo of his actions, a painful reflection of the harm he had caused. Yet despite the sting, he clung onto the vestiges of her voice, desperate for any semblance of a response, validation that she was still willing to communicate with him, to give him a chance to repent.

“Do you remember that day at the amusement park, Minhyuk?” she whispered, a hint of nostalgia creeping into her voice. Her voice trembled, telling the tale of a time when they were both younger and less burdened. “You were trying to impress me by winning me that stuffed toy, but you fell into the dunk tank instead. Everyone was laughing... and you... You were soaking wet, shivering, but still grinning like a fool.”

She let out a shaky laugh, a warm yet tormented sound that briefly dispelled the oppressive atmosphere. He found himself chuckling along, the memory of that embarrassing incident being a bittersweet reminder of happier times. Her soft laughter was like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds, illuminating the dark corners of his guilt.

Slowly, the gloom of the room retracts a little. As if the clouds decided they had spent enough time blocking the sun’s shine. Her laughter echoed lightly against the walls, bouncing back to them like a tender caress, a small salve on their shared wounds. Minhyuk closed his eyes, holding onto the sound of her laughter, onto the memory of that day, onto the little bit of hope it offered, and let a careful sigh of relief escape his lips.

“I remember, Y/N... I was drenched, and everyone was laughing. But you...” He pressed closer to her, his laughter dying as he whispered, his voice dropping lower, a thread of emotion weaving through his tone, “You were there, standing up for me, your laughter the brightest thing I had ever heard. I fell for you even more that day.”

The mood had been lightened a bit, but the truth of their situation still loomed heavy around them. Yet, in that moment, they found a shared comfort in a cherished memory, a respite from the storm that still had to be faced. They clung to each other, the story of their past serving as a small beacon of light amidst the darkness of their present.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice barely above a breath, a fragile testament to his pain. Drawing her as close as he could, he locked eyes with her. Tears formed watery rims around his eyes, the ghosts of the laughter from their shared memory fading into the wind. “I’m sorry I was a ghost. Everything you worried about and begged for to not happen… it happened, and it was my own fault. It was all me.”

His thumb caressed her cheek gently, wiping away the fresh flood of tears that threatened to spill from her beautiful eyes. The moment’s intimacy, the raw emotion, turned every touch, every whisper into a poignant echo in the hollow silence.

“Kiss me, Minhyuk,” she said. Just as his face neared hers, ready to lose himself in her again, she held up a hand. The words that softly passed her lips gave him pause. Despite the curtain of tears, her eyes had a determined glint, her voice carrying a wavering note of resilience.

Respect for her wishes and his own yearning propelled him to gently press his lips against hers. It was a kiss filled with regret, desperate promises of reformation, and the faint hope of forgiveness. Their shared pain resonated in this exchange, this moment of desperate connection. His guilt, her forgiveness, and their collective hope for a better tomorrow were all locked in this lingering kiss, a poignant denouement to the regret-filled morning.

She gently pulled away from the kiss, her gaze steady yet filled with unshed tears. “Can we... Can we re-do last night?”

The question hung in the air between them, fragile as glass yet as heavy as lead.

His heart swelled in his chest. Was this a chance for redemption? For atonement? He searched her eyes, desperately seeking affirmation, and found his answer in the vulnerable depths of her gaze.

“We don’t have to...” he started, his voice almost a plea, a need to reassure her that there was no obligation, pressure, or expectation. But she silenced him with another kiss, her hands cradling his face.

“I want to... with you,” she said softly, her gaze steadfast on him and her heart bared open. “I want to make love to you, Minhyuk.”

With a shaky breath, Minhyuk nodded, his voice a soft whisper in the silent room. “If that is what you wish, Y/N, I am here,” he assured her, his eyes shining with gratitude and a newfound determination.

He leaned in to gently kiss her neck, trailing his lips down with reverence. His kisses were feather-light, yet they marked her skin with a delicate heat. His fingers traced non-specific patterns on her skin, feeling the familiar warmth beneath his touch. He held her with one arm, using his free hand to explore her physique, treading on the known yet novel territory.

Minhyuk moved cautiously, letting his hands roam over her body, every move a silent question seeking her approval. At each motion, she would hum a soft affirmation, encouraging him to continue. He took his time, savoring every response and every gasp of pleasure that escaped her lips. All he wanted was to make her feel cherished and treasured. Like he should have before.

Her pulse quickened beneath his touch, their breaths hitching in sync. The sound of his name on her lips sounded like a prayer. This time, it was different. It wasn’t about seeking solace or escaping but about reaffirming and reminding each other of the love they once passionately shared.

This intimate moment was a far cry from their previous encounter. There was an eminent sense of respect and a deep understanding of each other’s needs and boundaries. It was about seeking healing, seeking comfort in their shared desire, and assent to rewrite the unwelcome memories of the previous night.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, his voice fading into a husky rumble. He dipped his head low, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. She smiled, her eyes filled with unspoken emotions. “You’re so beautiful. A daydream.”

Minhyuk’s breath hitched as his fingers slowly slid down, journeying across her body. His touch was feather-light yet deliberate, tracing the curves of her form with the reverence of a lover enshrined in history, familiar yet intoxicatingly novel.

He carefully slid a hand lower, his fingertips gently grazing through the soft fabric of her undergarment. Her quick breath intake was all the approval he needed to push. Further, his fingers now tracing delicate patterns against her, raising goosebumps of pleasure in their wake.

His other hand cupped her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone in gentle arcs, his gaze locked onto her expression, a silent plea for continued affirmation in her eyes. Her lips parted, releasing a soft moan at his touch, her eyes half-lidded with ecstasy yet still holding that deep trust for him.

His actions were slow and punctuated, each a statement, a question, a request for consent. Time seemed to still to the rhythm of their beating hearts as they journeyed closer to that peak of intimacy, poised on the brink of pleasure and transcendence.

As his digits began to delicately explore her, their shared breaths grew more erratic, the soulful intimacy of the moment amplifying the sensory pleasure. A soft gasp echoed in the room, her hands clutching at his shoulders, a hushed plea of his name creating an orchestra of sounds in the otherwise silent room, adding to the melody of their shared union.

His fingers continued their delicate exploration, rhythms matching the steady rise and fall of her chest, creating a symphony of whispered pleas and strangled gasps. Her hands curled tighter into his shoulders, her breath hitching in sync with his every careful movement.

The room filled with their shared exhales of pleasure; the whispered utterances of each other’s names were a testament to their surrendered control. His attentions only intensified, the deliberate movements of his fingers heightening her pleasure, each apt touch making her arch into his touch.

His focus was intense, his gaze never leaving her face, quietly seeking her consent while noting each expressive tell of her rising pleasure on her face. His name fell from her lips, a whispered plea, her eyes lidded heavy with desire and trust.

She clutched him closer, her fingers digging into his bare skin in response to his skilled attention, each movement bringing her closer to that precipice of breathtaking ecstasy. He could feel her body begin to tighten around his fingers, her breathing ragged.

With a final arch of her back and a hushed gasp of his name, he felt her shatter against his touch, their shared breaths the only sound in the still, moonlit room. The intimacy of their rendezvous echoed in the otherwise quiet space, bearing testament to their tender, healing union.

They lay there together in the immediate aftermath, her body still trembling from the recent onslaught of pleasure. Her breath gradually slowed to match his, their chests rising and falling in sync. For a moment, they simply basked in each other’s presence, the depth of their shared connection enveloping them like a comforting blanket.

Minhyuk pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and nose —respectful, worshipful. His fingertips traced lazy patterns on her skin, each touch further solidifying their undeniable bond. In response to his movements, she entwined her fingers with his and sighed contentedly, her breath fanning over his neck.

“Minhyuk, I... I want more,” she murmured, her gaze locking onto his, filled to the brim with trust and unguarded passion. He hummed in acknowledgment, eyebrows raised in silent question. “Please...”

Visibly taken aback by her words, Minhyuk searched her eyes for any trace of doubt, but all he found was sincere desire and earnest anticipation. As a form of consent, he nodded and pressed his lips to hers in a heated kiss before allowing his touch to travel further, intent on satisfying her newfound curiosity.

His fingers slowly began to undo the remaining clothing barriers between them, his gaze never leaving hers, asking for silent affirmation with every button undone; every inch of fabric slipped off her body. The metabolism of his heartbeat mirrored in the anticipation twinkling in her eyes. She reciprocated his efforts, tugging at his boxers, their clothes pooling at their feet.

“Can I...?” she asked, her tone laced with uncertainty as her gaze met his, a mixture of desire and determination etched into her features. He nodded, aware of her unspoken desire, and satuating himself comfortably against the headboard.

She moved to straddle him, her knees dug into the mattress on either side of his hips. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for him; his breath hitched in his chest at the contact. He watched her from beneath half-lidded eyes, noting the flush that spread across her cheeks, the slight shudder that ran through her spine as she began to sink down onto him.

Greater sensation overwhelmed him as she adjusted to him, her pace deliberately slow. His hands moved to rest on her hips, aiding her in finding a rhythm that brought pleasure to them both. Her head fell back, lips parted in a silent moan as her body moved against his, the sound of their mingled breaths filling the room.

Her movement was a dance, beautifully rhythmic and sinfully enticing. Each roll of her hips into his served as a testament to their shared desire, every shared moan a proof of their unspoken passion. She leaned forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss, their bodies meeting each other’s in a rhythm only they understood.

As she set the rhythm, he moved with her, hands traveling the expanse of her bare body, relishing the softness of her skin. His fingers traced the curves and valleys with a sense of awe, fingers dipping into places that earned him soft sighs and gasps of pleasure from her lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he managed to say, his low rasp vibrating against her skin, amplifying their ongoing intimacy. His gaze traveled the length of her, taking in her blossoming form, flushing under his touch, half-obscured in the diffused moonlight streaming in through the window. “You are everything to me. My world, my breath, my heartbeat.”

Acknowledgment of his heartfelt compliment was a slight hitch in the movement of her hips and an appreciative nudge against his hands, pressing him to explore further. Her body was a work of art, each movement sinfully enticing, making him hard to resist.

The sight of her, eyes glittering with pleasure, body moving fluidly against his in the most tantalizing way, was nothing short of empowering. He reached up and cupped her face, drawing her down for a deep, passionate kiss, their tongues dancing with the same rhythm their bodies had set. He conveyed his affection, admiration, and reverence through their lips meeting.

She moaned against his mouth, her body arching into his touch, seeking more, offering more. His hands guided her movements, each stroke setting her senses on fire. Desire mounted as their bodies meshed, the fervent connection sending them spiraling toward a climactic crest. His name rolled off her lips in a breathless whisper, a sweet melody to his ears, pushing him further into passionate depths.

As she continued to move, he marveled at the sight of her in the throes of pleasure. His hands explored the expanse of her body. Each touch, each caress, was a silent praise.

“You’re a vision.” he breathed out, his voice heavy with ardor. Her skin, flushed and glowing in the dimly lit room, encouraged him further. His fingers traced the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips; every part of her underneath his hands was a testament to her beauty.

Each roll of her hips against his elicited a low moan from him, each sound spurring her on. His praise, their shared desire, and their intimate connection continued to fuel their actions. She bent down, pressing her lips onto his as she continued to ride him, matching the rhythm of their shared breathing.

Their bodies moved in sync; the feel of her soft skin against his and the expression of pleasure etched on her face was nothing short of intoxicating. He relished in her reaction, watching as she arched her back, lost in the pleasure he was providing her.

When the climax arrived, it was like a wave crashing over them. She cried out his name, her body shuddering with the overwhelming sensation. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he reached the peak of his pleasure. Nothing but their shared breaths filled the room, the sound echoing like a testament to their passion. A shared intimacy that was more than just physical, a bond that was deep and unfathomably profound.

As the waves of pleasure began to decrease and the heightened sensitivity slowly faded, they found each other tangled in a comfortable embrace, their bodies still humming from the recent high. He held her close, her body nestling perfectly against him, their heartbeats synchronizing in the tranquility of the afterglow.

“Are you okay?” he murmured into her hair, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin, the intimacy of the question matching the intimacy they had just shared. A simple “Mhm.” was her content response, her warm breath fanning over his chest, lulling him into a sense of serene comfort.

He rolled onto his side, pulling her along with him, tucking her against his body so that her head rested on his chest, right over his heart. His fingers explored her body in a different way now, absent of lust but filled with an overwhelming affection. His touch was tender this time – a worshipful appreciation of her presence and trust in him.

“Promise me,” he began, his voice but a soft murmur seeping into the room’s stillness. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those usually playful eyes now filled with a seriousness that she rarely saw, “Promise me we’ll always be there for each other like we are now.”

“I promise,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, right above his heart where his promise was undoubtedly echoed. The seriousness of his gaze made her heart flutter, and despite the mild surprise, she knew there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. His arm around her tightened, a silent acknowledgment of their shared promise.

From then on, it wasn’t just the cuddling or the lingering kisses they shared. It was the unsaid promises and the whispered vows amid silence. It was how he looked at her like she was his entire world. They held each other as if reassuring themselves of the other’s presence. It was the intimacy and the affection that filled the room – something that was long overdue and now would never be lacking again.

“I’m going to miss you, Min.” She uttered. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid her words might shatter the tranquility of their intimate moment.

Minhyuk let out a soft sigh, his fingers lightly stroking her hair. He didn’t want her to worry about the future, not when they were wrapped up in each other’s arms in the present.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He murmured, his tone gentle, reassuring. “I’m here tomorrow, too. I’m all yours. We could stay in bed all day, order out if we have to.”

When she nodded against his chest, he continued. “And when I’m done with my service, I will take some time off. We can spend that time together. No distractions, no obligations. Just you and me.”

“Promise?” She asked, her voice quivering slightly, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears at his words, her heart swelling with love and affection for him.

“I promise,” he affirmed without hesitation, tightening his arms around her in a comforting hold. His plans were sincere, a future sculpted around them. His words were an unsaid promise, an understanding that their bond isn’t transitory, just paused for the better. The weight of his words hung in the air, an oath sworn and received, a pledge of a future where their love held prominence.

“And there’s something else I promise,” he said, his voice quiet yet steady as he locked his gaze with hers, a seriousness reflecting in his usually playful eyes. He took a deep breath as if gathering his courage before continuing. “When I’m done serving, and I’m back, I... I want to marry you.”

The words sunk into the room’s silence, like a stone thrown in a still lake, leaving ripples of reactions on her face. His proposal was straightforward and earnest, a confession that came from the depths of his heart. He was offering a future, not of doubts but of certainty. He was offering a life together to brave any storm that would come their way.

“I’ve thought about this for a while,” he admitted, his arms holding her closer. “I know it’s a big decision, and I don’t want you to rush your answer.” He sighed, his thumb gently brushing a tear away that had trickled down her cheek. “I want you to be sure.”

“But yeah,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’m selfish. I want you by my side. Your presence and support… mean more to me than anything else. I want us to face the future together, no matter how tough the tides get. I want us to stand together, always.”

His confession was an admittance of his feelings, indicating the depth of their relationship. Despite his remark about being selfish, it was anything but that. His words were sincere, representing a pure soul who loved unconditionally. The promise was less of an assurance and more of a humble request stemming from intense love and admiration for her.

“What do you think?” Minhyuk asked, his voice heavy with anticipation, his eyes searching hers for an answer. He wanted to know her thoughts and feelings about this proposal and their future together.

“I think we’re going to have a beautiful future together,” she responded, her voice filled with a rare kind of certainty. A soft smile stretched across her face, her eyes twinkling with joy. She’d been waiting for him to voice these words for a long time.

“I cannot wait to find out,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Minhyuk felt a surge of joy, a relief washing over him. He pulled her closer into an embrace, one that was light with promise and happiness. They cuddled together and held each other close, letting the silence encase them as they reveled in the promise of a future together.

Their story concluded on a hopeful note; the future was uncertain, but their feelings for each other were not. The promises they made and the love they shared overshadowed everything else. The true story was just beginning, a journey of two souls intertwined, bound by a promise of a lifetime.

#kvanity #monsta x imagines #monsta x x reader #minhyuk x reader #monsta x smut #monsta x fluff #minhyuk smut #minhyuk imagines #minhyuk imagine smut #minhyuk imagine angst #minhyuk angst #monsta x angst

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moonymode · 5 months ago

Text

re: a conversation with @casurlaub in the replies of this post about harry having never done anything wrong in his life (source: trust me). replying here because i wrote too much 😅:

i agree with you, it's wild because i have not only also seen people genuinely frame harry as draco's bully, but go further and insist that harry is just willfully cruel, like as a character flaw. which is obviously ironic cause that's draco's entire personality for the first 5 books, especially irt his treatment of harry, as you said! and the sectumsempra thing is crazy to bring up w/o acknowledging draco's purposeful use of crucio. which is in contrast to harry's misinformed use of sectumsempra, something we know harry wouldn't have used deliberately knowing the effects (we know this because harry feels terrible about it but the way this works in fandom is that when a character expresses guilt for anything that means they're actually the worst person alive by their own admission. because it's famously true that only the worst people admit to their mistakes and try to do better. which is really just an unassailable argument in many ways). this is where someone who isn't me might criticize harry's carelessness in trying out a spell he doesn't know on another person. which is kind of valid but not as evidence of moral failure. and i would argue that harry has no reason to assume a fellow 16 year old such as himself would ever invent something as twisted as sectumsempra, not the least his funny, downtrodden friend the half-blood prince who helps him with his potions homework! his little friend who harry has been relating to and empathizing with for most of the novel! the scene is partly so shocking because we as readers are also not expecting it. no one @ me about harry's stupidity in trusting another supposedly evil book, snape's old potions notes simply cannot be compared to a horcrux that possesses and kills people and i don't have time to draft up a defensive essay on harry's mental state in hbp and how that informs his parasocial relationship with teenage snape; the point is that harry would never deliberately maim someone.

and beyond the fact that harry's hostility towards draco can't be isolated from draco's years-long campaign to harass him and his friends (and which as you point out is almost always reactive, not something harry often initiates himself), there's an explicit reason for why their conflict escalates as much as it does in hbp; draco's ideologies aren't hypothetical anymore, people are being killed, draco's father was involved in the murder of harry's godfather and the attempted murder (and successful injuring) of harry's friends months prior. harry has real reason to suspect that draco is now continuing his father's legacy and, crucially, is the only one working to corroborate or prevent that. like it's wild that harry actually makes such a concerted effort to involve anyone he can in his suspicions in hbp, more so than he ever has before. and he is routinely dismissed and mocked for it (and also actively gaslit by dumbledore lmao). it's funny cause that's a huge running theme throughout the books; harry cannot rely on others, esp not adults, to save him or his loved ones. this is harry's belief (that he again tries to correct in hbp, which ends up proving him sadly right) but it's also a huge part of the narrative, it's an inescapable fact of harry's life. the fact that people read harry's behavior in hbp as unreasonable or malicious and not profoundly defensive after the events of ootp is really strange, but also frustratingly typical. it's no wonder that harry stalks draco; no one will listen to harry when he says he's a threat. the times that harry has defeated voldemort in the past have often relied on information he's gleaned in a clandestine fashion, of course the morality of such behavior is greyed out by the consequences of inaction (which are by this point unspeakable). and most important of all, the crux of this entire debate, is that harry fucking literally is right about his suspicions that draco is working for voldemort. like it's so relevant perhaps thee most relevant that draco literally does almost get all of harry's friends killed by letting the death eaters into the school, and harry has suspected this for the entire novel, has been shut down at every turn to prevent it, and it's only harry's intervention (LITERAL GOOD LUCK) that saves them. if it's possible to justify draco's behavior through the pressure and coercion voldemort puts on him in hbp, the logical imperative is to afford the same leniency to harry. literally of all people.

in conclusion: i'm not going to argue that harry isn't reckless or sometimes negligent as a general rule, but any argument that blames harry for reacting imperfectly to violence and danger, especially in comparison to consistently antagonistic characters (that embody ideologies which are themselves implicitly and later explicitly and demonstrably violent), is hypocritical and just, like fucking dumb. like it's just dumb as fuck. i've talked about how the fanbase tends to hold more empathy for racist villains and i think that's relevant to understanding why people sympathize with draco over harry. but i think it's also a matter of media illiteracy which is a phrase that's kind of losing its luster at this point but i really constantly see this persistent cognitive dissonance in fans that say and even think they're progressive, whatever that means to them, and then fully unironically think that the unequivocally fascist characters were more sympathetic for suffering the consequences of their own actions vs the imperfect reactions of the heroes to combat um literal death by those characters. like i don't even know if i can reasonably expect people who still engage uncritically with hp to be capable of understanding jkr's mid writing past a level so shallow not even a worm could drown in it. anyway thank you for listening <3

#not tagging anyone here cause it's been a month and i don't know if the length and lateness of this response would be unwelcome #posting this is more for me as was using the replies on that post as an excuse to rant about this <3 many thanks for that!#hp #harry james potter #fandom crit #txt

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ckret2 · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, do the Henchmaniacs actually consider Bill a friend and vice versa or just a means to an end, in Weridmaggedon it didn't seem like they were actual friends but more like he controls them through intimidation and they follow him because they have a similar goal. Does Bill just not know how to act towards friends in a healthy way but still consider them such? Love your fic btw.

It varies from member to member.

Most of them, if not all, did consider him a friend—often their best friend—when they joined.

Some still consider him a friend, some call him a friend because they desperately want him to be, some call him a friend because of the sunk cost fallacy ("if I've done this much and gone this far for him, and I CAN'T even count him a friend, then what was it all for??"), some call him a friend because they fear the consequences if they don't, some call him a friend because it's convenient and he wants them to but they solely consider him a resource, a boss, an ally, whatever.

He both does and doesn't see them as friends; he can change his mind twice a sentence without changing it at all. It depends on how he feels at any given time. Yes they're his friends because he's desperately lonely and he craves friends; no they're not his friends because he's above them and they're idiots and they're useful but he certainly doesn't like them. He loves none of them; but he loves how they love him. He tells himself they love him, except when it's useful for him to tell himself they fear him.

But: if they ONLY feared him, they wouldn't stick around. There's a mix of fear and admiration, fear and camaraderie, fear and affection. Something to balance out the arm-twisting, the feeling of always being watched, the ever-present psychological pressure.

Intimidation is a tactic of last resort. Intimidation doesn't mean he's lost his temper; it means the Henchmaniac screwed up. It's an effective punishment but it's a poor way to maintain long term control.

It's a lot easier to control people by convincing them you're the best thing that's ever happened to them and you have their best interests at heart.

You can see how he controls them in the last chapter. His power is laced through the entire scene.

A side-effect of growing up in the Henchmaniacs was that Paci-Fire regarded The Authorities as a nebulous bogeyman that was personally out to get him and all his family and friends. Do you think he picked up that belief accidentally?

"Oh, yeah, pretty much every world in my galaxy was still ground bound when Bill recruited me." Go after someone who isn't knowledgeable about the multiverse; who doesn't know Bill's reputation; and who can't call on the people he left behind to help him get home...

"But the rent's really reasonable for a place this size in this part of the Nightmare Realm." ...then minimize the resources he has to get out—finances included—and make him think you're doing him a favor.

"Bill Cipher was always a most droll prankster." Get the people around you to laugh off your cruel, controlling behavior as "just a joke." Do you think they'd call charging just one guy rent a "prank" if Bill hadn't done similar things in the past and gone "C'mooon, relax, it's just a joke!"?

"I mean—I was paying it to Bill. But I dunno who took that over, so I guess, kinda... no one?" "You were supposed to give it to me now." Keep people close by who will back up your bull. (Useful if they tear each other down; they'll be more likely to resent each other than you.)

"I don't know... Bill and I were talking about them once, and I realized they're as bad as Mom was. Bill said probably the only reason they didn't treat me as bad is because they never got the opportunity—" Make him believe you're the only one who cares about him. Cut him off from potential support networks.

"Face it: the only reason the rest of us didn't leave the Nightmare Realm millennia ago is because Bill couldn't leave." Keep them all isolated.

"Bill's not a liar!" The people who have been around him the longest have sunk so much into trusting him and following him that they can't afford to think it might have been lies.

"The only reason we've stayed so long is because everyone's too starstruck or too scared to ditch him!" 8 Ball's hit the nail on the head. To some extent, he's figured out how Bill operates and he's gotten past the stage where he tells himself it'll be all right if he just sticks it out...

8 Ball, he'd tried to split four or five times before crawling back, but Kryptos didn't care about him anyway. Bill had always been right about him: he was too selfish to care about the rest of the gang but too stupid to make it on his own. They'd taken in losers like that before. ...and, not coincidentally, Bill's been badmouthing and undermining 8 Ball to the others. "Selfish," "stupid," "loser." Also: 8 Ball, too, has been unable to make it out—do you think Bill offered any help any of those times he tried to leave?

The shapes were here because Bill had promised to make them a new home. He was the only one in all of reality who could do it. They'd held fast to Bill's promise for a trillion years. Who would they be if they lost it? Hell of a sunk cost. If you've been waiting one trillion years for somebody to fulfill a promise, any rational person would assume they'll never fulfill it; but, after waiting one trillion years, how can you possibly leave? When you've waited an eternity of eternities? Was it all just a waste? But it'll all be worth it, if—when—he keeps his promise.

Yet he was still here, and still waiting, because he didn't know what else to do. And who was it that convinced the shapes to pin their every single hope for the future on Bill?

You didn't get many chances to be the star of the show when you lived around a supernova like Bill. And what do you think being kept down like that so long does to somebody's sense of self-esteem and self-sufficiency?

Be their protector; keep them dependent on you; keep them isolated; convince them to give up everything (time, money, family, freedom) for you; ensure they have nowhere else to turn.

And that is how Bill controls the Henchmaniacs. His friends will never leave him if he's given them no other choice!

Because when he does leave them a choice, inevitably, they do leave, and it breaks his heart. They leave him quickly, and angrily, and never come back.

Gee, I wonder why.

(I've said before I headcanon Bill's backstory as a former cult leader. Honestly? I shouldn't be saying "former.")

#anonymous #ask #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(thanks for giving me an opportunity to highlight all the little sinister threads subtly laced into the chapter)

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numbpill · 5 months ago

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from the shadows of the margin of the darkest parts of the fringe of a trauma-born maladaptive daydream- so stark and shrouded in mystere and ambiguous revere, morbid reverence- faintest twinkle alongside raspy snickering breaks the silence, a razorblade through the still and silent air....

"AKROMINON. ELRIEL APOXIS. NURIMAL GRUSEZIK NUR. MEARMARE HUMRATHIAM GRESIZIK- NORIMEVER. ARKARINE."

nonsense. of course you don't understand- it is a jungian symbolic-snip-n-clip, an overlay to the absolutely incomprehensible nature of the higher dimensional substratium from which this.... being... descended from. it is useless to describe or attempt to understand this scenario any further. in this world anew, what might you consider "me" to even be behind this screen? is it but a black mirror, revealing a reflection of any who gazes in..? a piece of each person held within my varied schema? i can humor you as a mirror if you wish... but what of the truest realism? i would much rather keep it as truth-woven as is possible- i like real people, i like to be real also- otherwise i become someone muddled and not me. at the same time, what am i? i often change names, i have none as it stands now, irl they call me "alice" but in my mind i am numb and something unspeakable.

is this an introductory post? i am now not so sure. certainty evades me. i feel less whole. not together. drifter like. i find only solace in my time spent online now, for my whole life until the past 8 years was spent totally isolated, incredibly lonely- i never understood the necessity of social contact until i finally experienced it once more- and felt the weight of my loneliness dissipating like something fluid, i lost pounds of misery that day.

why am i rambling on like this? i have been subjected to such misery in all my life. i shall be silent now. ignore me.

anyways, i am intrex mervore, also lusynth rexis, akrominon, dresxort, and many more- no more terror. no more.

i am a hacker, coder, webmaster, artist, preformer, conversationalist, trickster, creator, philosopher, and prolific online uploader of my ego.

i am also a homeless schizoaffective and bpd drug addict~! uwu

i wish ppl would be more 'online' and open in a non-degradory and non-shameful manner about some of the less common and most stigmatized erm, alternative traits or interests or disabilities or ailments or WHAT HAVE U! sigh// i just tbh wish the world was a less negative and cruel place, instead one focused on love, solidarity, coexistance with both the gays and the murder nazis, and a world where the death of comedy gave way to a comic renaissance instead of the dark ages of social justice and PC culture.

ahem. ccouhg hghh HAUGUHHHGH - cough cok couh he he hoo hah hoh hh hhgnh. *spits*

welcom 2 elriel. 2133. death always lurks, so live fully and with no refrain. embrace the lack of thy comfort zone, anxiety should be a signal to gO GO GO!

acceleration at aell times, costs, and reasons.

three feet on the gas, under a sprimscet noxlit future-fallen sky~

n-mice... i mean nice- to em meet u --- >.<

SOME OF MY MAIN SITES:

[MY BLOG IRL]

[NEOCITIES: NUMBPILLED]

[NEOCITIES: HIDDEN LAYER MEDIA] ~,,~

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foxes-that-run · 1 year ago

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Golden

Golden and Fine Line are the bookends of the album and written first. Golden is so joyous, but also asking his muse to let him in, in Fine Line they cross the friendship line and the album ends on an uncertain note but 'we'll be alright'.

I have watched this video more than I'll ever admit, I love it so much. This section where he's running as hard as he can to catch up to her:

This is similar to this part of As it was, it tells of their break ups, hook ups, careers happen and he loses her, stops trying to catch up and runs alone, devastated (before he lets go of the past and dances off):

The film clip was in September 2020, 2 years after writing the song.

Writing

To Rolling Stone:

That places it around September 2018, after he broke up with Camille and the events of Fine Line(/Cruel Summer.)

To Zane Lowe, Harry said he started with an idea for the album but not the release date in mind. Harry talked about having a plan for future albums but he took Tyler's advice to make Fine Line the record he wanted to make now as opposed to what was planned. This is interesting because:

October 2012 - While they were dating, the Red Liner notes foreshadow a future album that included 'love shines golden'

August 2019 - Lover is released on the 13th year of her career, before her 30th birthday, ending on "Love is Golden like Daylight"

13 December 2019 - on Taylors 30th Birthday Fine Line is released, opening with 'You're so Golden, take me back to the light'.

Lyrics

[Intro] Hey! [Verse 1] Golden, golden, golden as I open my eyes Hold it, focus, hoping, take me back to the light I know you were way too bright for me I'm hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky Brown my skin just right You're so golden

In the first verse is depicted in the film clip, working as hard as he can to win back this person with his own success and love for them. He often describes his muse as in the sky (here), chasing clouds (Story of my Life, Late night talking MV) and "I'm on the roof, you're in your airplane seat" in Daylight, also that MV has him climbs down a ladder in the sky.

[Verse 2] I don't wanna be alone I don't wanna be alone when it ends Don't wanna let you know I don't wanna be alone But I can feel it take a hold (I can feel it take a hold) I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control) Of who I am, and all I've ever known Lovin' you's the antidote Golden

The second verse is moving from desiring the muse to being vulnerable, As it was is more direct on this saying that "In this world, it's just us / You know it's not the same as it was" which means this muse is the only person for him. To me, that person is Taylor and there is an overtone of being isolated by fame here and finding someone who feels like home in an unmanageable life.

Thank you @womanexile for highlighting Anitdote which Harry refers to in:

Every since New York: " Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote / For this curse. Oh, what's it waiting for?"

Daylight: "You got the antidote / I'll take one to go, go, please"

And in One Directions End of the Day also likened being apart as an illness " You're the one that I want at the end of the day / She said the night was over, I said it's forever/ 20 minutes later, wound up in the hospital / The priest thinks it's the devil, my mum thinks it's the flu / But, girl, it's only you"

[Chorus] You're so golden I don't wanna be alone You're so golden You're so golden I'm out of my head, and I know that you're scared Because hearts get broken [Bridge] (Golden, golden, golden, golden)x7 I know that you're scared because I'm so open

I think Fine Line overall, and Harry's House to a greater degree show maturing. When talking to Zane about Cherry Harry said: "In the moment I felt like I was realizing some stuff about being more open and not being, like 'I don't care'".

I think, where the 1D songs are about young love and the debut songs are like an open wound - it is not until Fine Line he started to look with some distance on what was lost.

#haylor #fine line album #song analysis #Lyric analysis #Golden #Harry Styles

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wisepainterperson · 1 year ago

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Chapter 6 of my andromeda six drabble collection.

🖤I Need You💛

blood, mentions of self harm, self harm.

The weight of the world rested heavily upon your shoulders as you mechanically finished yet another mundane task, the weariness etched into the lines of your face. The days seemed to blend together, an unending stream of monotonous routines, numbing your soul to the colors and joys that once filled your existence. But, in the depths of your heart, you clung to a distant glimmer of hope, a faint memory of your mother's tender words before you left that fateful day—words that now seemed like fragile echoes from a distant past.

Time had blurred since then, and life had taken you on a cruel journey, far from the sanctuary of your former happiness. Each step forward seemed to plunge you deeper into a void, a void left by the absence of those you once held dear. The life you once knew was shattered irreparably, leaving you adrift in an ocean of despair, with no beacon to guide you back to shore.

Your mind wandered back to those carefree days, the halcyon moments with your parents and him. The laughter resonated within your soul, the happiness a distant memory that threatened to break your heart. How swiftly it all changed, like a beautiful dream turned to a haunting nightmare. The memory of your father's joke, the last flicker of joy before the darkness descended, haunted you mercilessly.

As you stood lost in your thoughts, a sudden, booming voice jarred you back to reality, ripping you from the bittersweet reverie. You looked around, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, their gazes fixed upon you. And there, towering over you, stood the captain, a stern figure whose authority only seemed to emphasize the void in your heart. The weight of his disapproval added to the crushing burden you carried, as if the world itself was now your antagonist, conspiring against your very existence.

You wanted the tears to fall and to finally be able to release some of these pent-up emotions but alas, nothing. The contrast between your inner turmoil and the world's obliviousness to your pain felt like a cruel irony, isolating you even further. You longed for the comforting embrace of your loved ones, the warmth of their love to heal your wounded spirit, but they were now only memories fading with each passing day. In that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if all days would feel like this—endless cycles of suffering and emptiness.

"Are you deaf?" He began again and you could do nothing but look at him in a daze.

"What?" You ask dumbfoundedly, Captain Lynch did not appreciate this.

"What? I just asked you to move that stuff several times and you just ignored me that's what." He barks back quickly and again you are stunned to silence. His presence alone sent shivers down the spines of those under his command. As he towered over you, his eyes bore into your soul with a mix of irritation and contempt.

You wanted to muster the strength to explain yourself, to tell him that your mind was consumed by thoughts of loss and sorrow, but his hostile tone silenced you. Your silence only served to fuel his anger. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space.

"I don't tolerate insubordination on my ship," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "You're here to work, not daydream." Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words adding to the burden you already carried. His lack of empathy felt like a cold, sharp blade, cutting deeper into your wounded spirit. You yearned for a glimmer of kindness, a spark of humanity from this man who held so much power over your life, but it seemed like a futile hope.

"You know somehow you still surprise me with how far that stick is shoved up your ass Cal." One of your new crew mates had spoken up against him, as she did quite often. Ayame had apparently arrived on this ship with Calderon Lynch, obviously the were rather attuned to each other's ways.

Ayame met the captain's gaze with unwavering defiance, her eyes burning with the fire of someone who had been pushed to their limits. "I'm tired of watching you bully everyone on this ship, including this poor soul," she gestured towards you. "We're all human, with feelings and struggles, and you can't just stomp all over us like we're insignificant bugs."

He took a long deep breath in and released it while holding the bridge of his nose in aggravation, "No one's bullying you or anyone else. We have less than half an hour to hall ass off this gods' forsaken planet or we'll all be reduced to dust, and I don't think now is when we need to be distracted." he begins.

"Couldn't you have just said that." You manage to contort just loud enough that both can hear. Calderon seems less than amused but Ayme takes it and throws it at him again.

"Yeah, you don't have to be so mean about it." Captain Lynch's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his jaw visibly tensing. He was not used to admitting fault, let alone to someone who had recently joined the crew.

Ayame's words seemed to have struck a chord with Captain Lynch, and for a moment, you sensed a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. But that moment quickly passed, replaced by his customary stoic facade. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its authoritative edge.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Captain Lynch retorted, his voice laced with disdain.

Ayame stood her ground, undeterred by his attempt to belittle her. "Maybe or Maybe not, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people like garbage," she replied with a steady voice. "We're all in this together, and we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down."

Captain rolls his eyes and walks away with a grumble, yet again you've done something to earn his disapproval. You've been on this crew for all of 3 months and you've managed to lose his shoes somewhere between the laundry and his room, burn and boil over his coffee, and break his favorite mug. Needless to say, you weren't friends by any means but that didn't mean that you didn't think about if you were. Actually, you'd thought about him in many ways, many that would more than likely looked down upon if there were to ever come to light, but you talk to no one anyway.

"Don't worry about him." Brought out of your thoughts once again, this time by a much kinder voice.

"Yeah, no, he was right. I shouldn't be so distracted." You say defeatedly, dragging yourself over to the pile of boxes that had tumbled over.

"So, your content to roll over and let him treat you like that?" She joins you in picking up the scattered objects and helps you put them back into the wooden crate.

"No, just don't feel like arguing." you say softly.

"She also likes him and doesn't want to step on his toes, you know, any more than she already has." You hear a familiar tone that you tried to avoid at all costs but here and now there was nowhere to run.

"Somehow you seem more insufferable as the days drag on." you state clearly annoyed at his teasing. You didn't spare him a glance but could hear his army boots hitting the floor as he sauntered ever closer. He comes to sit on the balls of his feet in front of you both, his arm carelessly laying over the side of the box and he eats his cookie.

"Well, I'd say t got better but then, technically, I'd be lying." Sarcasm dripped from every word that spilled from his mouth and for some reason it was always just the right thing to get under your skin. Damon was the constant irritation in the back of your mind, the fly buzzing in your ear, or the thorn from a cactus that you simply can't seem to find. He was fast, smart, and dangerous, your typical girls dream and her father's worst nightmare.

As Damon continued his teasing and sarcastic remarks, you felt your frustration growing. He had a knack for pushing your buttons, and it seemed like he took great pleasure in doing so. Ayame shot Damon a disapproving look before turning her attention back to you.

"Don't listen to him," Ayame said reassuringly, her voice softer and more empathetic than Damon's.

You appreciated Ayame's understanding, but Damon's presence was like a dark cloud that overshadowed any comfort you might find in her words. Despite your annoyance, there was something magnetic about him, and you couldn't deny the strange allure he held over you.

Damon flashed you a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, taking another bite of his cookie. "I'm just here to provide some entertainment."

"I don't need your entertainment," you replied tersely, trying to maintain your composure.

"Come on now, don't be so cold," Damon teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'm just trying to brighten up your day. You look like you could use a good laugh."

His comment hit a nerve, and you felt the tears welling up again. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down." You say standing and brushing yourself off in a crude attempt to wipe away the anger you were feeling.

"If you aren't feeling well maybe you should go see- " You assured her that you just needed to lay down and you'd be feeling much better later. As you walked closer to the loading docks doors you could hear her scold him and make him take your place in cleaning up the spilled boxes. There was very little left to do before take-off and you were sure that the rest of the crew was more than capable of handling it.

You stepped out of the loading docks and into the corridor, the weight of the recent events and the encounter with Damon still weighing heavily on your mind. Each step back to your room felt like a struggle, as if an invisible force tried to hold you back, preventing you from finding solace. The ship's corridors were usually bustling with activity, but now they seemed eerily quiet, amplifying the isolation you felt.

As you walked, the memories of happier times with your family flooded your thoughts again. You yearned to turn back the clock, to undo the irreversible events that led you to this desolate state. But life doesn't offer second chances, and you were left grappling with the unyielding reality that you were alone on this journey.

The darkness in your thoughts intensified, as if the ship itself conspired to push you further into the abyss of despair. Every flickering light seemed to mirror the fleeting hope within you, only to be swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness once more. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you in the silence and solitude.

As you passed by the crew members going about their tasks, their laughter and camaraderie felt distant, almost alien. It was a stark reminder of the chasm between you and everyone else. They had their bonds and relationships, but you were merely a passing shadow in their lives.

You finally reached your room, a small, confined space that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The walls seemed to close in even tighter as you entered, and you collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you, threatening to crush whatever hope was left in your heart.

In the solitude of your room, your mind revisited the memories that brought you pain. Each thought was a knife, piercing your heart, and you couldn't escape the relentless assault of grief and loss. The past was an unyielding captor, unwilling to release you from its grip.

As time passed, the ship's engines hummed with a low, rhythmic sound, a constant reminder of the journey forward. But as much as the ship moved physically, you felt emotionally stagnant, trapped in a cycle of despair that seemed never-ending.

The darkness outside the small window mirrored the darkness within you. Your heart longed for healing, for light to break through the gloom and show you a path forward. But in the grip of your grief, it was hard to see beyond the overwhelming emotions that engulfed you.

You know how to fix this. The voice in your head began, it liked to haunt you, to taunt you in these times. "No." You groaned out rolling over onto your side to stare blankly at the drawing from bash that were scattered among the walls.

Why not? No one will know and if it makes it go away then no harm. No harm what a laugh. Unhealthy habits die hard, that's what you'd learned to tell yourself. You'd tried the ice and salt, you'd tried drawing on your arms with markers, even snapping yourself with a rubber band but nothing really helped. Not like that use to.

Exactly, so why not one last time? Your thoughts were louder now, more confident, snider. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, plopping down into chair in front of yourself and opening the drawer to your left. That was the desk you kept your art supplies, your drawing pad, and the knife Damon had given you. "For protection," He'd said.

The sound of the lights buzzing overheard spilled over into your thoughts as you pondered the decision you were about to make, the fall from grace you were about to have. You grabbed the knife and laid it flat on the table, running your thumb over the smooth metal. You had cut your wrists before but this would be different. Different because it'd been 3 long years of sobriety you'd be looking in the face and ignoring.

The thought of all the pain you were about to put yourself through was almost enough to stop you. Your hands trembled as you held the knife, ready to make your last cut. Your breath hitched and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

That's it, do it. Let yourself have that relief, give yourself one last break. The voice taunted you, "It's not a break, I'll be in control." You replied out loud, your grip tightening on the handle. You began to rub it up and down the inside of your left wrist, creating a light, teasing cut. Your hands began to shake again, and your stomach churned as the blade danced across your flesh.

You were going to hurt, but you would survive. The pain was temporary, the freedom from the torment was worth every second of agony. You closed your eyes, trying to block out all thoughts and just feel. One became two, two became five, and soon your arm looked like a cutting board, but it isn't hurt and neither did your heart any longer.

A knock on your door draws you from world you'd created in your mind, suddenly reality hits you like an ocean wave. "Uh- One second!" You managed to get out in a shaky voice, suddenly feeling guilty and embarrassed about what you'd been doing. You weren't ashamed of cutting or why you did it but you were still worried about what others might think of you.

You grabbed some tissues and did your best to clean your arm, though it was already starting to bruise and looked quite bloody. You put the knife away and turned your attention to your door again. You weren't in the mood for company, but it was probably Ayame again. Hastily you wrap tissue around your arm and throw on your jacket before walking over to your door and hitting the panel to open.

If it had been Aya you would have been prepared even a little aggravated but when your eyes met the deep blues of Captain Lynch's you froze like a deer in head lights and instinctively hide your arm behind your back.

"Can I come in?" He ask in an exasperated huff of air. You're not sure why he's here, but you certainly weren't going to turn down a chance to talk to him.

"Sure," You reply as you move out of the doorway to allow him in, "what can I do for you?" You ask again, this time a little more awkwardly.

He walks in examining your room as if he were the judge of some show. "Its been brought to my attention that I've been unnecessarily cruel to you and I'm here to apologize." He says finally turning to address you.

"Ayame really laid into you didn't she." You say jokingly crossing the room and sitting in the desk chair you'd just been in, you notice the drawer still slightly ajar and shut it quickly before responding. He gives you a look as if to say, yes you are correct while running his fingers over the leaves of the plant Ryona had given you to keep you company.

"Well, no harm no foul right." You say nonchalantly hoping he'd take that as his cue to scurry off back to his big chair that sits smack dab in the middle of the control room. "It's also been brought to my attention that you've been isolating yourself in your room more often then usual," he says, again eyeing your room with an inquisitive gaze. "And I feel like I may have added to that," he continues and sits down in the small chair in front of your desk. "I think I need to tell you something."

You aren't sure what to say or do at this point, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach, but you can't help but feel like this is going to end badly. You want to speak up, but you can't seem to find the words to say, you can't seem to break out of the silence you've become trapped in.

Thankfully you were both interrupted by Ayame calling Captain Lynch to the front and for the first time in what seemed like forever you took a breath. "Seems like that need you on the bridge." You say under your breath trying to avoid eye contact.

"Indeed," he says getting up from the chair and looking out the window. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so harsh with you. I didn't know you'd lost your family or that your father was such an asshole." You cleared your throat uncomfortably and turned away without another word. Seeing as the conversation had struck its natural conclusion he took his leave.

The trip was going to be a long one, but you weren't ready to open up and be vulnerable. You knew you needed to but you didn't want to, it was a lot easier to just keep everything to yourself. But eventually the dam would break, and when it did it would be catastrophic.

As you made your way back to the small window in your room, you could hear the ship's engines begin to turn on and rumble to life and it wasn't too long after that they everyone was called to the bridge to be strapped in. On the bridge, Ayame and Captain Lynch were busy preparing for the ship's departure. Ayame was preparing the system for flight while the captain sat in his big chair, observing everything with a watchful eye. As you entered, they both acknowledged you, but you kept your distance, not wanting to engage in any conversation at the moment.

"Well if it isn't the recluse." You could hear Damon say as he waltzes up behind you. You turn to face Damon, His sly grin only added to your already troubled mood. "The walls of your room must miss you," he adds with a chuckle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to brush off his teasing. "Yeah, well, I prefer my own company," you retort, trying to keep the conversation short.

Damon raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your response. "Sure, sure, the great mystery of the galaxy brooding in their room," he replies, feigning drama. "But seriously, are you ever going to join us normal people on the bridge? You know, to witness the beauty of space or something."

You clench your jaw, feeling more agitated by his taunts. "I'll be there when I feel like it," you mutter, attempting to move past him and head to the bridge.

However, Damon steps in front of you, blocking your path. "Now, now, don't get all huffy," he smirks, placing a hand on his chest in mock innocence. "We just miss having you around, that's all. It's been so happy without your emo vibes."

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the anger boiling within you. "Happy without my 'emo vibes'? You've got a real talent for being a jerk, Damon," you snap, unable to hide your irritation anymore.

Damon's grin falters for a moment, seemingly surprised by your reaction, but it quickly returns as he brushes it off. "Whoa there, calm down," he says, trying to act nonchalant. "Just trying to lighten the mood, you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe pick a different approach next time," you retort, taking a step back, ready to leave. The last thing you want is to spend any more time dealing with Damon's antics.

But just as you turn to walk away, Damon reaches out and grabs your wrist firmly causing you to yank it back with a yelp of pain. The room froze and everyone seemed to stop and look towards you and Damon. You'd instinctively grabbed your wrist and begun to hold it to your chest as your eyes glanced over the many other pairs of eyes that now watched you both.

"You're bleeding." the captain says, rising from his chair but you take another step back towards the door. Your world seemed to be collapsing around you with every second that passed. The room fell silent as everyone watched the tense interaction between you and Damon. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and anger mixed with fear was bubbling inside you. The pain in your wrist seemed to intensify as you held it against your chest, trying to hide it from everyone's view.

Captain Lynch took a step forward, his expression now serious and concerned. "Are you alright? Let me see your wrist," he said gently, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm fine," you replied, trying to muster up a brave front, but your voice quivered slightly.

Damon's earlier smirk was replaced with a look of genuine concern, and maybe even anger, "He wasn't asking." at this moment you were more afraid of the look Damon was giving you then the man twice his size that was still reaching out to your arm.

"I said no!" was all you said before turning around sprinting out the door and down the metal corridors.

As you ran through the corridors, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of emotions. Fear, anger, and confusion all tangled together, making it hard to think clearly. You had to get away from Damon and everyone else, finding solace and safety in the only place you knew—the familiarity of your own room.

You sprinted through the ship, your mind solely focused on reaching the sanctuary of your quarters. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You didn't want to be seen like this, weak and vulnerable. As you approached your room, you fumbled with the panel to open the door, your hands trembling from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

Once inside you let them come to a close and lock the doors behind you, sliding down against it until you were sitting on the floor. Your breaths were ragged, and you finally allowed the tears to flow freely down your cheeks. The pain in your wrist, both physical and emotional, felt overwhelming.

You didn't understand why Damon's actions had affected you so deeply. Yes, he was rude and insensitive, but there was something about his grab that triggered a painful memory, reminding you of your past and the loss you had endured. Your father's abusive behavior flashed before your eyes, and the wounds that had never fully healed were ripped open once more.

Feeling the weight of your emotions becoming too much to bear, you reached for the small plant that Ryona had given you. Holding it close to your chest, you tried to find some comfort in its presence, as if its mere existence could help soothe the turmoil inside you.

As time passed, the commotion outside your room died down, and the ship's engines hummed steadily. You could still hear faint voices, but you did your best to block them out. You didn't want to confront anyone right now, especially not Damon or Captain Lynch.

It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on your door. You didn't respond, hoping that whoever it was would assume you were busy or resting. After a while they went away and you were left in silence again, watching the stars pass by had helped some but the constant wrenching of your heart seemed to only grow as the moments passed. It was late enough that no one would be awake and there was always one place you liked to go.

You dragged yourself from your bed and changed the bandages on your arms before leaving your room as quietly as possible. The halls were dark, and most were already snug in their beds and attempting to sleep over the noise of the engine. Finally, you made it to the lower levels of the ship, just before you reach the dock, there was a large window that seemed to jut out of the side of the ship. When sitting there you almost feel as if you're floating through space in your own bubble.

You sat by the large window, your knees pulled up to your chest, and your arms wrapped around them. The stars outside flickered, painting the vast canvas of space with their distant light. The gentle hum of the ship's engines provided a comforting background noise, lulling you into a sense of peace despite the turmoil within.

You stared out into the endless void, lost in thought. The events of the day, the confrontation with Damon, and the unexpected interaction with Captain Lynch weighed heavily on your mind. You couldn't help but replay the memories of your past, the painful moments you had tried so hard to bury.

Deep down, you knew that running away from your emotions wouldn't solve anything. You needed to confront the pain, the anger, and the fear that you had been carrying for so long. But it was easier said than done. Opening up, being vulnerable, and facing the past was terrifying, and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.

As you sat there, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn around; you didn't need to know who it was. Part of you hoped it was Ayame, understanding and compassionate, but another part feared it might be Damon or even Captain Lynch, wanting to address what had happened earlier.

The footsteps halted behind you, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a voice broke through, hesitant and awkward. "I'm sorry," Captain Lynch said softly. This made you turn and glance at him from over your shoulder, he wasn't clad in his usual uniform, instead he wore a simple t-shirt and joggers. Like this he seemed far less intimidating than before.

"Why are you apologizing?" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before responding. "It's not your fault," you said, your voice catching slightly.

Captain Lynch hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for the right words to say. "I should have handled the situation with Damon better. I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point where you felt the need to run away," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of regret.

You turned your gaze back to the stars, finding some comfort in the distant lights that seemed to listen without judgment. "It's not your responsibility to babysit me or control how others behave," you replied, trying to sound strong, but your voice wavered.

He sat down beside you, his eyes also fixed on the cosmic expanse. Seeing him like this next to you made him seem comedically bigger than everything around him and it made you smile. "Maybe not, but I care about the crew, and I care about you," he said quietly.

What? He what? "Captain listen-" You began but he stopped you short.

"Calderon." He corrected his eyes still firmly fixed ahead of him.

"Calderon." You repeated. "I really appreciate it, and I hope we can put this behind us but I think we both know that it won't happen." You confess trying not to sound bitter about it. "So you can just drop me off the next planet you get to and I'll figure the rest out. "

You sigh turning away from him and back towards the window. You could feel a lump forming in your throat and you felt the tears threatening to spill over once more. You wouldn't be able to hide your feelings much longer and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you break.

"I don't want to drop you off," Calderon says softly. "I want you to stay. I want to help you."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" You ask with a shaky voice. "I'm not worth it."

Calderon reached out and gently brushed his fingers across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected contact and looked up into his soft blue eyes. "You're worth it. And I want to help you because I like you." Calderon says softly.

You weren't sure what to say, how do you respond to that, "You can't just say stuff like that." Was all you could muster.

"Ok well, A. I'm the captain and last i checked I can say what I want. " He says wearing a smug smile, you could see he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes and you were sure he could notice the steady blush talking over your cheeks.

"And B?" You question, feeling a bit emboldened.

"Well, I guess you'll have to find that out," he said with a sly grin. You could feel your face burning as you tried to look away from him, and he chuckled softly before standing up and holding out his hand to help you up.

"I'll let you get back to your brooding, but I'd like you to talk Ryona about your arm." he said but once you were standing again you simply shook your head.

"I'm ok." you say, holding your arm close to your body again. He gave you a knowing look but nodded and left you to your thoughts.

***

When you began to make it back to your room, you tried your best to compose yourself, using your jacket sleeves to muffle your sniffles. You couldn't believe what had happened, but you couldn't help the feelings it stirred within you. He liked you? You couldn't help but replay those words in your head. It was one thing for him to say it happenstancely, but he'd really said it.

It took all your willpower not to run down the hall screaming that he likes you, you like him, it was a perfect moment. And yet, it made you feel even more conflicted. The conflict was part of the reason you'd been avoiding everyone. The thought of everyone knowing about the pain you carried, the memories that haunted you, terrified you. You weren't ready to face it, to confront it, not yet.

You knew you needed to speak with Ryona about your arm, you could see the bruises forming and the blood from the cuts seeping through. You walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, maybe tomorrow.

As the door slid open, your breath caught in your throat and your face burned with embarrassment. Your bed was a mess and clothes were strewn all over the floor. Damon had been through your things, going through your private things. You were about to let out a yell of anger and frustration when you saw Damon standing beside your desk, holding up the knife you'd used to hurt yourself before.

"I told you to be careful with it, " he was definitely not his normal cocky and charming self. No he was angry, more angry then you'd ever seen him.

You took a step towards him, clenching your fists. "Why were you going through my things? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You felt the heat rise to your face again as your frustration boiled over. You had a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of emotions you wanted to release, but none of them seemed to make it past your lips.

Damon turned around to face you, his own hands clenched into tight fists. "Why were you cutting yourself with this?" He asked, his tone even more angry. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I wouldn't care?"

"I thought you'd be happy about it," you fired back, "you're always picking on me, teasing me, so you'd think this would be your opportunity to have a good laugh at my expense."

"So, what, you think I'm an asshole then? I thought you were better than that," he said, stepping closer to you. "You think I want to watch you hurt yourself?"

"Well, that's what you seem to do isn't it? Tease me, make me angry, get me so worked up I have to hurt myself to calm down!" You could hear the anger in your voice, but it was nothing compared to the anger you could feel coming off of Damon.

"Don't fucking turn this on me," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You can't use me as an excuse.

"I am not blaming you for this, dammit," you snap, "and yes, I am blaming you! You're the one who brought it up, you're the one who started this whole thing by teasing me."

"I didn't mean for you to take it this far," he says, "I didn't realize..."

You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him in his moment of weakness, why? Why did you want to comfort those who hurt you, you'd never know.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it this far. But I couldn't help it, I just...I needed to let it go, you're so fucking infuriating sometimes. So, you're right, it's not your fault. I just couldn't stop myself." You said, trying to force the words out.

He looked at you for a moment, and you could see his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch your cheek, but pulling his hand back in the next instant.

"You're not the only one," you said softly. "I'm sorry too. I should have talked to you, but I wasn't ready."

"No, I should have stopped this from happening," he said, his voice breaking.

"I know, but it just got out of hand." You sighed, rubbing your face. "I need to get to bed." You said, moving towards the door. "Good night, Damon." But before you had a chance his hand grabbed yours and in an instant the world became still.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears and every nerve in your body felt electrified. You could feel the air around you change. You could smell the warm sugary like scent that hung in the air, feel the warmth of his skin on yours.

He became close, so close you could feel his breath against your neck and the gentle brush of his lips. His hand gripped yours and you felt a surge of power run through your veins.

"You know I don't like it." He says quietly, almost so softly you couldn't hear it. "When you cut yourself." His cologne was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his shampoo from his normal evening shower.

You swallowed hard and nodded, "I know." You said softly.

"I-." He seems to struggle to voice his feelings, his voice a whisper that barely reaches your ears. "I want you." His hands had left yours and begun to grip the fabric of your shirt on either side of you. "I want to stay. " Like this he almost seemed like a pouting child.

You felt the softness of his lips as they touched the back of your ear, his hands running over your sides. If you weren't red before you certainly were now. This might was confusing, Damon and his feelings are confusing, but you'd be lying if you said you'd hadn't thought about him saying those words to you before.

"O-ok." Was all you could manage. For the first time ever you hugged him and he hugged you back. Never had his walls tumble down so far but tonight something had shook him to his core, the thought that he might lose you and it would be his fault.

"I'll sleep here with you," he said softly. "I won't let you do that again." He said, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your lips. "Please, don't hurt yourself anymore." He said, his eyes begging you to understand.

Your heart was pounding, and your cheeks were flushed. "Ok." You whispered.

#andromeda six #calderon lynch #damon reznor #fanfiction #juniper #ryona mi'haden #vexx serif #visual novel #archive of our own #tw self destruction #angst #possibly triggering

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