#did i reread this after? no. will i afterwards and then scream when i see mistakes and ucky yucky writing stuff . probably GYHUJFG

[k-yurieee]

'ALMOST ALWAYS' CHAPTER 4 IS HERE!! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! 🎉🎉

(Edit 3 : I started writing this post/reblog last week Monday. Don't worry about what day it is today. I just kept nitpicking at it and having more thoughts that I wanted to add everytime I came back to this, and time kept getting away from me because of irl events, sooo yeah. Stuff happens.)

Edit 1 : My usual yapping will be under the cut for this one, cause I might ramble on for bit longer than usual today. Yeah, I've got some things to say. They might not be particularly intelligible, but is anything I ever say on this app comprehensible? Probably not. Soooooo buckle up I guess 🤷‍♀️

Edit 2 : (also please ignore that I'm posting this like wayyyy after I've read this chapter, I had this saved and edited as a draft and thought I had posted it after editing it, before I decided to take a nap, but... Guess I was mistaken lol. And sleep deprived, but that's besides the point. Also I guess the draft didn't even save properly earlier??? Because I'm rereading the whole thing now and I'm pretty sure there's stuff I added earlier that seems to be missing now so.... That's sooo fun haha 🙃 I'll try to re-add anything I can remember 🫡)

Edit 1 (continued) : ohhhhh my gosh, this chapter was another ✨emotional rollercoaster✨ (which isn't anything new with this series, and honestly I should've expected it but mannnn, it just gets me every. single. time 😭😭😔)

Let me just quickly gush about this part first because EEEEEEEEhEEhEEEeeeee I can never NOT giggle and kick my feet over sweet moments like this, are you KIDDING me, I'm an absolute sucker for fluff, and I will die on that hill (also I just need to let myself simmer in this fluffy warmth before I divulge into my slightly more serious thoughts, I'll get to those in a second but firsttttt LOOK AT THIS ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEEE👇👇👇😭😭😭😭)

'You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.'

When I tell you this made me wanna scream (wouldn't be the first time this fic affected me this way lolll) into my hands and jump up and down 😭😭😭 like girl can you PLEASE be normal (and by 'you', I mean 'I', as in ME. I need to relax lmaoooo 🙃)

This chapter... This chapter was so much. I truly am not sure how to put into proper words everything it made me feel, but I will try. Honestly I feel (and have felt) more than a bit conflicted about them (Joe & R, obvs). And I mean, that's kind of expected, right?

I want to support them but I also low-key want to smack them both upside their head sometimes (but like, in an affectionate 'why did you do that, you flippin idiot, I believe in you and know you can act better than this' kind of way)

It made me remember this quote I heard a while back that went something like "sometimes we dislike other people because we see the parts of ourselves that we dislike, in them". And it irked me because it reminded me of how I'd treated certain people in my life before, in ways that I'm not proud to admit. In one of the previous chapters, Joe had a thought somewhere along the lines of "I can't control my feelings, but I can control how I treat others", and I thought 'this is great, he knows how he should move forward, good for him, he's learned his lesson.' And I hoped it would be the same for the Reader character as well, and that both of them would implement this afterward.

And then... Then this chapter happened, and yeah, maybe they weren't in a completely committed relationship with the people who were sleeping in their beds, and maybe they 'weren't doing anything illegal', and all that, but... They could still be hurting someone else's feelings. Again. Low-key I had my face in my hands like "guys please, I know y'all can't stay away from each other, and I want you guys to end up together too but likeee there's got to be a better way to do this, pleaseeee" 🛐 😭

And maybe that's the point. They're human. They make mistakes. Sometimes they learn and grow from their past mistakes, and sometimes they continue doing the same stupid thing a million times over even if they know it won't end well for them. And it was when they made those questionable choices, when they tried to pretend that their problems didn't exist, when they constantly made excuses and kept repeating the same regrettable cycle over and over – it was during of all those moments that I looked at these characters, and I saw a part of myself. Parts of myself that I didn't like, but acknowledged was there nonetheless. It was these aspects that I could personally relate to.

This is why they feel so fucking REAL to me.

I just really hope things will end well for everyone in the last chapter because mannnn 🥲🥲😭

'But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.'

This part hurt me more than it should 😭😭😭😭

(I know I wrote more about my personal feelings than about the actual fic, but like I said before, I had written more about it - over a week ago - in this draft that didn't save properly, and my memory is generally not that great, sooo yeah. I at least know that I had some thoughts about Emily's response to the whole situation and stuff but I can't recall anything specific I'd written rn. I want to reread this chapter at some point to see if it re-sparks any of those thoughts I had last time but... we'll see lol.)

Anywayssss I can't believe there is just ONE more chapter left to this series omggggg this fic has been an experience for sure

(I'm gonna need to lie down again aren't I 🥲🙃)

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: -

Wordcount: 6.5K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“I didn’t say he doesn’t… I just said, he has never actually said it.”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and you immediately regretted saying what you just said.

“No, stop. He has said it. Forget I said anything. It’s fine.”

You knew exactly what she was going to say.

She’d alluded to it from the start. Rolled her eyes at him. Made faces of outrageous confusion that told you, how can someone behave like that, without having to say the words aloud. Without making you hear them.

“I’m just saying…” Emily started, and showed you a facial expression that made you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

“It’d be better for you to leave him.”

You laughed, like she made a joke, yet so aware that she absolutely wasn’t.

But listen, if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry, because you knew, you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that it probably was better for you to leave him.

Not a truth you wanted to face though.

There were still too many easy excuses for you to make.

So... you made them.

But Emily’s face remained quite serious.

“Emily. You don’t mean that.” You said on the back-end of a giggle.

“Are you joking? My God, it’d be so much better if you left him. Better for you, better for, well, me. Can’t even tell you he loves you? What is he on?!”

You shushed her, and looked over your shoulder in the general direction of your bathroom and listened for a few seconds. The shower was still going. He couldn’t have heard her.

Good.

Not that Emily’s general opinion was a huge secret. But still. It was nice if the peace could be kept for the night.

“He does tell me that.” you argued, much softer. “Just...”

“Just does it when he’s about to hang up the phone? Just a quick, casual, love ya, when he’s saying goodbye?”

“Well, he–”

“Or does he only say it when he’s about to come?”

“Emily.”

“Oh, God. You’re so beyond help, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore.”

For a moment, you avoided eye-contact. Pressed your lips together and looked around the room whilst your friend tried her best to get it into your head that Joe really just wasn’t it.

“You know you’re in second place.” Emily said, suddenly much more earnestly. “You don’t deserve to be in second place.”

Which was a nice sentiment. A thing a best friend was meant to tell you. A bit like a parent calling their baby a genius because they accidentally made a bit of babbling sound like a real string of words.

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath in and giving Emily your best smile. “So is he, so I guess we’re even.”

He wasn’t.

These were two different leagues.

But suggesting that Emily was in first place with you was the quickest way to make her feel appreciated even though her advice went untaken.

It always did.

Emily was a good friend and always gave excellent advice. And you were a good friend because you always listened to what she had to say. Or, you thought you did. Would tell yourself you did.

But then you simply wouldn’t follow any of it.

You hadn’t taken her advice when she’d told you to stop fucking around in a fourteen month situationship.

“I like how this just… works, don’t you?” Joe had said one evening when you were wrapped up on his sofa together. You’d made a comment that someone had flirted with you and had asked if you were single. You hadn’t known what to tell them.

Joe had just shrugged then.

“Let’s not push for something if it doesn’t need it. Something not broken doesn’t need a fix, does it?”

And you’d disagreed then. Had hoped that he’d grow a little protective and would’ve gone, um what do you mean of course you’re not single. For a while you also hadn’t wanted to define anything, because fuck commitment, right? But it had been over a year and Emily said that you should ask him to just fucking label it already.

You hadn’t.

You also hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy wasn’t going to make you happy.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you that she thought this guy was ultimately just there for a bit of fun, but not really much else.

Hadn’t taken Emily’s advice when she’d told you to just leave him already when you told her he had never sincerely told you that he loves you.

“I know you’re smart enough to know that it’s absolutely wild that he’s not said–”  

“It’s because you just hear all the bad things, I’m sorry. I should also tell you about the good shit.”

“Oh, yea? Like what?” Emily challenged, and in the silence that followed, you heard the shower turn off.

“Like... look! Look what he got me!” you said, picking up a bag from a dining table chair.

Your friend looked at it for a moment, blank faced, and then narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“Got you? Like, he went out and bought that for you? Or, was that sent to him by the brand, and he just passed it on?”

You looked at the bag you were still holding, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. He still gave it to me.”

It was a nice bag.

“Not exactly the same is it.”

No, it wasn’t. But... you know. You could pretend it was.

“Still counts.”

“Okay. If you think so.”

You didn’t think so, not after what Emily had just said, but you were willing to accept it for the nice gesture, and that was all you cared about. Or, what you told yourself was all you cared about.

“I think so.” You definitively told Emily, breaking into a smile to really sell it.

Just when she was about to roll her eyes at you and maybe try her hand at talking a little more sense into you, Joe called you from the bathroom.

You left Emily on her own for about a minute before joining her again.

“Okay. Let’s go. He’s not coming.” You grabbed your coat and found your bag. The one Joe had given to you, but hadn’t spent a penny on.

“He’s– what?”

“He thought of something that still needs doing. He’s not coming.”

Emily stared at you from where she was sat, watching you hurriedly wrestle your arms into the sleeves of your coat as she slowly caught up to speed.

“So, I’m sorry, but have we just waited for him for ages for fucking nothing then?”

You ignored her tone, finding your phone, your keys, and then Emily’s coat as well.

“Let’s go. If we hurry, we might beat the rain.”

You chucked Emily her coat, and she almost didn’t move her arms in time to catch it. With the front door already open, you gestured for Emily to make her way through, calling, “Bye! We’re off!” into the flat.

Emily, under her breath, very mockingly sing-songed, “Love you!” in that same tone as she walked past you, making her point once more.

You didn’t repeat her, but instead rolled your eyes at what you decided was a joke, and then loudly said, “Don’t wait up!”

You didn’t wait for Joe to answer before you slammed the door shut.

It’s been weeks.

Months, technically, although it doesn’t feel it.

“Please be home, please be home, please be home,” you mutter to yourself as you rush your way down his street. “Please be in the fucking country, for just this fucking once…”

You’d texted and had gotten no coloured ticks from him. So then you’d called, but it just rang for ages before you were eventually sent to voicemail, and that’s something you don’t do. Especially not now. Not about this. Hell would have to freeze over before you’d leave a voicemail message. You could delete a text thread, or a voice note. But, a voicemail? Once a voicemail sends out, there is no undoing that.

Maybe you’re crazy, but what you’re doing now feels safer.

It’s after midnight, dark, the streets wet from earlier rainfall, but you feel wide awake. You’ve got Emily’s words ringing in your ears still, and you’ve not been able to shake them yet.

Her advice.

Or, well, it was more just her opinion. She had expertly dressed it up as a fact, though, which is probably why that one sentence still held you in a vice grip.  

Telling her about how you’d had a few… moments, with Joe, since you’d broken up with him, turns out, was the wrong thing to do.

You just really wanted to tell her about the wine.

The expensive bottle you’d satisfyingly dunked into his kitchen sink.

It’s been weeks by now, but you still think about that all the time. And every time that you do, you feel pure glee spark inside of you.

You thought she’d be the same.

You thought she’d absolutely love it.

But then, after you had told her all about that night, she’d just looked at you with so much disdain and disappointment, it startled you into rambling excuses, none of which sounded true to your own ears, let alone hers. She then had shook her head, and sort of muttered something to herself that you asked her to repeat.

It’s those words that haven’t left the forefront of your mind since.

You didn’t ask Emily to clarify herself. You hadn’t gotten into an argument, either. You had just… moved onto a different topic. A lighter, easier to digest thing to talk about.

It left those words to rein freely, left those words at liberty to inflate themselves until they were all you could think about, and the feeling had clawed at your chest for the rest of the day. The rest of the night.

You hadn’t been able to answer the question, what’s wrong, that you were repeatedly asked until it made you upset.

“Nothing’s wrong! Stop asking me what’s wrong! God! You asking me what’s wrong a million times a minute is what’s wrong!”

Something is wrong though.

Obviously.

You just left someone in your bed for this.

Ringing Joe’s doorbell is a quick action, fingers pressing that familiar button before you can have any doubt of what you’re doing. It takes longer than a few seconds before you hear a small beep.

“Joe? I texted you, can you reply to my text?”

A silence follows, and for a moment you think maybe the intercom doesn’t work properly, or maybe he just hadn’t heard you.

“I– I sent you a message, check your phone–”

A loud click of the door unlocking and a loud shrill buzzing sound interrupts you.

“No you don’t have to– just text me back, will you?”

No answer follows, but the loud buzzing persists. After a few more seconds of it, you know Joe’s just holding down the button until you go inside.

That wasn’t the plan. 

With a frustrated grumbling sigh, swearing under your breath, you push yourself into Joe’s building and make your way to his front door.

In the lift you decide you won’t let the doors close properly when they’ll open on Joe’s floor. You’ll tell him from half inside the lift that he just needs to check his phone.

You just want an answer.

But then the lift doors open and one foot steps out as you lean into the hallway, expecting to see Joe waiting by his front door, yet he isn’t.

You make an angry face, nose pulling up and showing your clenched teeth with a frown. You’re in a building where people are asleep so you can’t make any noise, but you absolutely would have otherwise. Joe leaves you no other choice but to get out of the lift, and begrudgingly, you make your way over to his doormat.

When you get closer, you can see how the door’s been left open.

“Hey,” you whisper-yell into the flat, “Joe?”

You get no answer, and take a few careful steps inside to find him standing in his kitchen in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He’s got his back turned to you, and is seemingly busy cleaning up mess he’s left out from dinner.

It’s the fucking middle of the night.

It’s dark in Joe’s flat, the only light in the room coming from his under cabinet LEDs, and it’s weirdly warm for the time of night, you think.

“Hey, I–” you start, voice low because it’s late, but you quickly get cut off by Joe.

“Did you close the door?”

You blink a few times and watch Joe very carefully load some things into his dishwasher, making little to no noise at all. No plates softly clashing, no rattling cutlery.

“What? No. I–”

“Will you close the door, please?” Joe asks, but it sounds like a demand. Sort of cold, a little detached.

“All I’m here to say,” you try again. “Is that I want you to check your phone...”

Joe stands up straight and finally looks at you. Whilst maintaining eye-contact he slowly closes the dishwasher until it latches, machine clicking shut, and when he then just... keeps staring at you, you throw your head back like an annoyed teenager, and reluctantly do as you’re told.

You go to close his front door.

In the kitchen you hear the tap go, and when you join Joe there again, you can see how he’s filling up a glass with water.

Joe is about to take a sip when he suddenly decides against it and lowers the glass.

“Water?” he then asks, and holds it out to you with a stretched arm.

You’re slightly confused, but you take it, and then watch Joe reach for another glass from a cabinet and fill that one for himself.

“Thanks, but…” you place the glass on his counter and hold two hands up to Joe. “I’m just here because I need an answer to a text.”

Joe, with his mouth in his own glass, sort of looks at you a moment as he gulps water down.

He looks tired.

Which, yea, that checks out.

You fucking woke him up, didn’t you?

There’s so many reasons to declare yourself clinically insane right now, but you’re holding onto the notion that this is actually all totally normal with all of your might. If you pretend to believe it, you might just be able to trick Joe into it as well.

But Joe just looks at you like he’s waiting for you to give the real reason of why you’re there.

“So, if you could just, check that. Answer it. That’d be great.” You force a polite smile and step back. “That’ll be all.” And you turn to leave again.

“You’ve been crying.” Joe stops you in your tracks.

You turn back to him.

“No. Well, yea I was, but that’s not– I’m fine, that was about something else, not this. You don’t have to– stop, I’m going to go, please... respond to my message. I’ll read it when I get in, and that’ll be that.”

“Wait.”

Joe picks up the glass of water you’ve just put down and gives it back to you. When it’s in your hands, he even gives it a little push upward to ensure that you have a sip.

“I’ll go get my phone.”

And he’s so calm and agreeable that it feels rude to do anything else but take a sip and wait for him. You watch Joe walk out of the room to go get his phone, and it’s a lot of opening and closing doors, everything done as quietly as humanly possible. Then, you suddenly notice how hot you feel in your coat. It’s really fucking warm in here.

That’s new.

That’s... weird.

When Joe comes back, he closes the door behind him again and looks at his phone as he unlocks it.

“Why did you call me?”

“Just–”

“I’ll read the text.”

In silence, you stand and watch Joe open his texts and read your message. Messages. There’s several. Then, he starts typing back, and, this is what you came here for, but now that you’re standing in Joe’s kitchen in the middle of the night, having pulled him out of bed for this, you almost want to tell him he’s being an idiot. He can just as easily answer your question in person.

His message sends, and your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Joe places his down and gives you a tired stare.

“Yea, okay. Th-thanks.”

“Read it.”

It startles you.

“No, that’s…” You’re so stupid. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Read your message.”

You feel like a fucking child that’s being scolded by a parent.

Guilt.

Regret.

Self-inflicted, which makes all of it so much worse.

Every feeling sits dark and sticky and bitterly uncomfortable in your gut, clinging to all the edges, stretching longer until the shadows overtake all of the previous excuses you had for being here.

You shouldn’t have come.

You shouldn’t have gone to wake up Joe over something so insignificant and, well, dumb. It’s embarrassing, and you want to leave.

“You’re here now. I’m up. Read your message.”

You inhale deeply. Hold it there for a moment.

He’s right.

The damage has been done.

You’ve dipped a toe into this strange pond, and now you might as well canon ball yourself right into this uncomfortable mess, no matter how cold the water might be.

The only way out seems through.

You pull your phone from your pocket with a clammy hand, and fucking damn it, you’re sweating underneath all of your layers.

“I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Joe just lets his eyes drop to your phone before he looks right at you again, his very stance issuing the orders.

Read the fucking text.

You see the notification and open your phone with face ID. Your own messages to Joe catch your attention first, before you see his reply.

“Were we as good as we’re going to get?”

“What we were together”

“Was that really as good as it can get?”

“Ever?”

You didn’t have to send the same question in various different ways, but that’s what had happened.

Emily’s reaction to the stand alone get-togethers you’d participated in with Joe hadn’t been what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a level of girl power encouragement. For a loud get it girl, or a, yea babe get what you want.

Instead, you’d gotten a sigh and shake of her head, followed by a soberly mumbled, “You really do deserve each other…” that you’d asked her to repeat.

Before she’d always said that Joe didn’t deserve you. That was always the point she tried to get across. The idea she tried to sear into your brain. Joe was beneath you, and you were far above. Always.

And then suddenly, now you are no longer too good for him?

Suddenly you’re on equal footing, and you deserve each other.

What the fuck.

You look at your own messages and realise in that very second that you have no idea what kind of answer you are after from Joe. This isn’t a coin toss situation where you know what side you want that coin to land on the moment it get’s thrown into the air. Fear strikes you lightning fast. No matter what Joe is going to tell you, it’s going to be wrong.

What the fuck are you doing at Joe’s flat?

And why is it so fucking hot in here?

The only way out is through.

You read Joe’s text.

“Darling it’s late, let’s not do this over text”

A non-answer.

You look up at Joe, who is now leaning against his kitchen counter, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest. His head tilts to the side a little and neither of you speak.

It’s oddly unexpected that the guy in his underwear exudes more confidence than the girl bundled up in heavy layers of clothing.

You frown and read the message again.

For a second you debate what to do next. What to say. If this is going to be the end of this interaction, or if it’s going to be just the beginning.

It’s late, though.

You inhale deeply. Slowly.

Then, resign.

“Okay.”

Because honestly, what were you really even expecting from him?

Your soft little defeated okay isn’t what Joe expected though, you can see it in the minor change on his face. The eyebrows that quirk up slightly, his jaw that loosens, the eyes that round out...

“I’ll um...” you say softly, letting your phone sink back into a pocket before pulling at your sleeves to let them cover both hands.

Joe steps forward and bends to look at the clock on the oven behind him before he says, “Well. Since you’re here. Might as well.”

He gestures an arm at his dining table. At one of his chairs. It’s hard, but you do your best to ignore the memories of the last time you were there, sat in one of these chairs. Well, technically, you hadn’t sat in one of the chairs... Joe had sat on one of the chairs and you–

“Am I going to get an explanation of what’s going on?” Joe asks as he pulls out a chair for you.

Finally, you remove your coat.

“It’s a long story.” You say, then think for a moment and add, “No it’s not, actually. Emily said–”

“Ah. Emily.” Joe sits down in a chair opposite. “How is Emily doing?”

“Shut up. She’s fine.” You exclaim, voice a little raised in defense, and you’re immediately shushed by Joe. He holds up a hand as he perks up, and you get the message, lowering your tone as you add, “This isn’t about her.”

“It’s not?”

“No. She just said something. I…” you trail off for a second.

Your head’s a scrambled mess of doubt and insecurities and it doesn’t help that all you’ve done in the past few hours is overthink every single thought that’s popped into your brain. It’s a bit of a journey to retrace your steps and go back to the start of all of this.

“We were talking, and suddenly she... she said something and I’m just… I wanted to know if you think that… if you think what I texted you is true.”

“You just… wanted to know… if I think…” Joe narrows his eyes up at the ceiling as he thinks, slowly repeating your words.

It’s condescending.

Patronising.

Joe’s making fun of you.

“All right, be fucking honest or–”

“No, no. I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s nearly two in the fucking morning,” two already big eyes comically enlargen, but don’t make you laugh. Wrong audience. “But, yea, you’re right. Honest. I’ll be honest.”

You take a deep breath in preparation of what he’s about to say.

Were we as good as we’re going to get?

“Imposing question, though.”

Yea, you’re aware. It’s why you hadn’t been able to sleep and had eventually decided to just get up and out of bed, leave the boy you had in there on his own, and make your way over to Joe’s.

“I don’t know.”

Wild how you feel about five inches tall whilst simultaneously feeling like you’re taking up too much space in the room.

“You don’t know.”

Typical.

“Well. No, I… was it as good, wait, what was it?” Joe looks past you and sees that he’s left his phone on the counter. “Was it as good as it could be?”

You exhale through flared nostrils, frustration forcing your eyes shut for a moment.

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get for us?”

“Were we as good as it’s ever going to get... I mean, I think so? I– But–... you tell me. Were we?”

And Joe’s right. It is late. You have spent hours thinking that question over, and you couldn’t answer it when you weren’t as tired as you are now, so it’s useless to even try at this hour.

You shrug, and for a moment, it’s quiet. You don’t know how to go about leaving now. You came here for something you aren’t going to get and so, fucking now what?

“Why um... why have you been crying?”

“Oh, I...” your fingers find your sleeve to rub. “I was asked why I couldn’t sleep, and I... well, I couldn’t really explain, so...”

Joe frowns in confusion, not understanding.

“I don’t know, you try listening to someone say shit like, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t help you, fifty times in a row, and try not to fucking snap.”

They’d been tears of angry frustration, mostly with yourself, and they’d actually surprised you. You hadn’t expected to cry, but, you felt hurt by words your best friend said to you, so you guess that does add up, actually.

Something slowly dawns on Joe before he then leans back in his chair and nods, scrunching his nose, and he whispers, “Jasper.”

“Jasper.” you confirm, and it makes you chuckle a little before a yawn breaks it up.

Joe watches you. Lets his eyes take you in. It’s the middle of the night and you’re very clearly going through something, but he hasn’t got the answers to the questions you’re asking him, and he hates it.

Wishes he could help.

Wishes the questions you wanted answers to weren’t so impossible.

Joe watches you yawn. Watches your eyes blink slowly as you stare into space for a moment. It’s so quiet, he can hear his clock tick on the other side of the room. Then suddenly, you smile.

“I told Emily about the wine... about how I was a complete bitch and poured that bottle right down your drain.”

And Joe can’t help but feel more amused at your smile than feel annoyed about his expensive wine being wasted. He won’t let his face show it though.

“Bet she enjoyed that.”

“Yea I thought she would, but... she just... she said that we deserve each other. Whatever that means.”

Joe watches your fingers rub along your sleeves. Knows what that means.

“That’s not true.” he suddenly says, voice low and sincere.

“Oh, right,” you huff a laugh and half-heartedly joke, “I don’t deserve you, of course.”

Joe doesn’t laugh.

“No, I mean... well, yes. Technically.” Before he continues, Joe shakes his head in an attempt get his thoughts in order. It’s late. “But not in the way you just said it. In that... you probably deserve better.”

“Probably?”

“Yea. And so do I. Probably.”

Hmm.

You silently mill that over for a second. Aren’t sure what to make of it. If there’s even anything to agree or disagree with there.

“But, who’s to say. All we know is that we weren’t the best before.”

Joe stresses that last word and then lets the words float in the air for you to draw your own conclusions from. It’s certainly true that you weren’t the best together - hence the break up that eventually happened. But Joe’s expertly sharing the blame, which is not a fun truth to face.

The before saves it, a little.

The before makes it sounds like Joe’s talking about two people who no longer exist. Like, those people are gone. That door is closed. And look at you now. You’re a whole new set of two different people. It’s a different world, and you’ve changed. Grown. Learnt.

Who knows what you’d be like now.

Joe can’t predict the future.

And neither can you.

“Hmm.” you hum, eyes trained on the surface of the table, body flushed with conflicting feelings you don’t know how to put into words. Instead of stumbling through words until you find ones that make sense, you remain silent and pull at your sleeves so there’s more fabric for your fingers to run across.

“Hey,” Joe leans forward a little and catches your attention. “Are you okay? Do I need to be worried about you?”

You smile and let it take over your whole face as you shake your head no before you bring your hand up to cover another yawn.

“No. But I should go. This was never meant to be– she just… I don’t know, Emily got into my head and I didn’t know how to get her out.”

Joe contemplates in silence. Wonders if he’s okay with the idea of you walking out and going home right now, in this state. It’s almost three o’clock.

“I don’t make the best decisions after midnight. Sorry.”

You push your chair back and get up on your feet, the plan being to give Joe a quick polite hug goodbye before you make your way back to his front door.

You’re tired, but you know the second you step outside into the cold air that will make your lungs feel sore, you’ll wake up enough to make your way home without any problems.

But then Joe decides you can’t just go.

You can’t just leave.

He’s stuck.

You’re stuck.

You’re stuck in it, together, in this muddy sludge of whatever the two of you have become now. One of you is going to have to step out of their shoes and escape, and Joe thinks it should be you, because you’ve escaped this quicksand of a relationship before. You know how to get out.

It’s weird that you willingly came back.

Keep coming back.

And it’s awful that Joe just keeps inviting you in. Welcomes you with open arms every single time.

But he wants you to stay. It doesn’t have to be like before. Things can be different. Better.

He decides he’s not just going to let you leave, so when he stands up and you go in for a hug, he takes hold of you by your upper arms and starts moving you towards his sofa.

Says, “Come sit for a second.”

And no resistance comes from you. Joe thinks it must be because you’re tired. You’ve cried and you’ve worried and you’ve let all of it eat away at you until you decided to reach out to him, and now, he wants you to stay. He’s not a fan of how, from a certain angle, it looks like he’s taking advantage of the situation, but... you’re both adults.

He’s not doing anything illegal.

Well.

There’s a girl in his bed.

It’s why the flat is warm and why all the doors are closed. Joe shouldn’t have let you inside. Shouldn’t have made you come in and shouldn’t have made you close the door behind you. Shouldn’t have given you a glass of water and shouldn’t have sat you down.

He doesn’t want you to leave now.

There’s a girl in his bed.

And you’ve got a Jasper in yours.

Joe’s closeness to you will come at a price, he’s aware. But it’s one he’s willing to pay. One he’s got the cash for, no problem. Name the sum and he’ll double it.

He’s got you by the arms and is walking you over to his sofa. You are stopped just before you’re about to step onto the area rug.

“Shoes off,” he says, like he gives a shit. You know he doesn’t, but listen to him anyway, and know that taking your shoes off means you’re not going anywhere. At least not for a while.

You get turned around and get sat down, and immediately, you feel far too comfortable. The seat’s too soft. The cushion’s too fluffy. Memories of the hours spent snuggled up on this sofa shoot into the forefront of your mind and you want to warn Joe that it’s not going to take much for you to fall asleep.

But before you can, he pulls a throw blanket from the other side and hands it to you, and you realise that getting comfy and cosy is actually the goal here.

There’s a guy in your bed, who you’ve just… left. Didn’t tell him anything. Just got out, got dressed and left.

You take the blanket from Joe.

It’s probably a good idea to at least let him know something. Send him a text. Let him know you’re okay. But that little voice of reason in your head gets drowned out when Joe sits down next to you and helps sort out the blanket so it covers you both.

“Sit for a second?” you ask through a soft half-suppressed laugh as Joe settles in beside you, your thighs touch underneath the throw. “Am I staying the night?”

“I don’t know, I don’t control what you do. I just want to sit for a second.”

Joe stretches an arm behind you that you think he’s going to rest on top of the sofa, but it moves your head forward a little as it grabs hold of your bicep to pull you in a bit more.

“Joe...” you warn, but it sounds lighthearted and sleepy.

“What?” Joe acts all innocent, but you can hear his amusement when he adds, “Just for a second.”

Joe is still shuffling in his spot, using his other hand to sort the cushion behind him, then pulling the blanket and tucking it under his leg, followed by him using his chin to fix the bit of flipped cotton of his T-shirt sleeve – it’s a lot of faffing for someone who wants to sit for just a second.

He’s nearly done, a centering sigh half way out of him when, suddenly, you feel how he pipes up a little and see how he looks across the room. His phone’s still on the counter, and for a second, Joe debates getting up to go and get it.

You determine on his behalf that he doesn’t need his phone by draping your arm across his stomach and snuggling up.

It’s warm in Joe’s flat.

And this little nest is perfect.

“Fine.” you mutter softly. “Jus’ for a second.”

Joe pauses for a moment as he looks down at how you let your nose brush his arm, your eyes already closed, and he grins as he sinks back down into his sofa.

You don’t make the best decisions after midnight.

Neither does Joe.

Maybe you do deserve each other. Maybe you don’t.

But you deserve this, you think. And you mean that in the best way possible. You deserve to be comfortable, and cosy, and toasty warm in a dimly lit room with a man who smells really nice.

You deserve to cuddle up next to someone who truly values your presence and genuinely just wants you to be there with them for a little while.

You deserve the soft tickling fingertips that delicately dance across your hairline, lingering there for far longer than ‘just a second’.

You deserve the barely whispered, super soft “Love you.” spoken so tenderly and punctuated with a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head, it makes you tighten your arms around him.

You fall asleep in the soft glow of the under cabinet LEDs with the knowledge that the next morning is bound to be awkward. But this is still infinitely nicer than trying to fall asleep with Emily’s words on your mind. It’s difficult to think about impossible-to-answer questions when you’re wrapped up in strong warm arms that want you there, so you allow yourself to sink and to drift until dreams fully take you.  

A loud bang of a door slamming shut wakes the both of you with a violent jolt.

Two pairs of tired bleary eyes look around the room, and there’s a fleeting moment of confusion. Your mind scrambles to piece together where you are and what just happened, but all your mind can focus on is how dry and heavy your eyes feel as you blink to adjust to your surroundings.

“Oh, fuck,” Joe croaks, groaning as he goes to sit up. He looks over his shoulder, then rubs a heavy hand across his face before he goes, “Yea…”

You feel disoriented and frazzled, and move to sit up just enough to look over the back of the sofa with squinty eyes to see what Joe is even looking at.

All you see is an open door to the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

“What was that?” you ask, thinking maybe something dropped or knocked over somehow. When Joe gets up and walks over to his bedroom to check, you think that’s it. Something fell because gravity finally got a hold of whatever Joe had been precariously balancing on a bookshelf.

But then you hear Joe audibly sigh and dejectedly go, “Yea, she won’t be coming back.”

That takes minute to land.

It’s too early for your brain to comprehend what just happened, but slowly, puzzle pieces click together.

Oh.

Oh, that’s fucking detestable, isn’t it?

When Joe walks back out, he’s wearing joggers and is holding a ball of socks, and you hope there’s a different explanation than the correct one you just concocted. He looks at you for a moment, and you can tell by the look on his face that he feels awful.

Right.

Emily can fuck off.

You don’t deserve each other.

You deserve better than this.

Okay, so, yea, admittedly, you aren’t really one to talk, seeing the personal choices you have made over the past eight hours. But the choices Joe has made in that same span of time are just as bad, if not worse.

You decide to give into the feeling of wanting to lay back down rather than to face whatever this morning has on offer for you. You disappear from Joe’s sight, and cover all of your face with your hands that press and pull at your skin.

This is such a mess.

“Emily can fuck off.” You mutter into your own palms, hoping Joe can translate that and connect the dots of your disdain for him in this very moment.

You should leave.

Should check your phone for any messages or missed calls, and you should leave.

Never come back.

Learn your fucking lesson already and never set foot into this flat ever again.

But then Joe leans over the back of the sofa, and with knitted eyebrows that show off every single line on his forehead, he softly asks, “Do you want a coffee?”

You drop your hands.

Look up at him. The kind face. His short hair sleep messy. Jaw line. His mouth.

You should leave.

“Um…”

Oh... oh no.

“Yea…”

Fuck.

So close.

“Yea?”

You almost had it.

“Yea. I could use a coffee.”

Almost.

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[hjemve]

[ EIGHT ]  for receiver to have passed out from overusing their abilities and wakes up to sender at their side.  - seer!Max

ABILITIES  &  SUPER-POWERED  THEMED  PROMPTS  (with @normaltothemax!)

🗴🗴🗴 — he awakes with a jolt, lungs inhaling near-violently with air as he comes to. the sensation of burning; aching; gnawing piercing through his limbs like the bloodied maw of a hungry wolf. There is a hand that reaches for him— and he reaches back. He grabs their wrist in his muddled state, breath trembling in his throat, though he tries his best to steady himself. The Vagrant pulls her closer toward him by the arm, his neck straining to lift even an inch from the ground as he rasps out in a low, demanding tone (betrayed only by the shaking in the hand trying its best to retain its grip on her). "My mask..." he whispers through his teeth, then more forcefully, "did you see—?" when she does not respond as he'd hoped, he lets out a quiet growl-- half in pain and in impatience— and perhaps, a lick of fear. "did you remove anything??"

It's only then that he relinquishes his grasp and attempts to drag himself into a sitting position. He feels too vulnerable laying on the ground, and so it's with visible difficulty in which he brings himself upright. The man stifles a pained grunt as he does, but fails at hiding the way in which his breath quakes in his chest. "Under no circumstances...." he hisses, clutching his arm tightly -- trying to resist the urge to tear the leather armor from his wrist to squeeze the diseased skin. As if that would help ease the pain at all. It wouldn't. He knew it wouldn't; all it would accomplish would be revealing the demon-plague within his flesh to someone who ought not know such a thing exists, let alone within him. Any one hint of his origins to anyone was too much. "--are you to remove this mask." he growls quietly, trying to steady himself-- as well as his voice. He was certain he was.... quite the sight. "--do you understand?" he asks after a long moment, looking up at her through the slits of his masks eyes as though she could see the intensity of which he peered at her.

He'd overdone it. He'd done too much at once, and thus, the essence of the demon spliced within his soul consumed his mortal flesh as the cost of using such power. Perhaps that was why he'd been so... agitated. Not at her, but at himself for being so reckless. It had been quite the beast... worthy of such power, and such a death. He'd killed it with that spectacle. That much he remembered at least.

The vagrant squeezes his eyes shut, chin tipping upward; jaw clenching beneath his mask. It was eating his flesh. Turning it into... something else. It would be painful for some time, even after the price had been paid. "Do not touch me." he hisses, dragging himself to his feet once the worst of the pain had eased and he'd been able to uncurl from himself. "I'm fine... I'll--" he sighs; tone smoothing. voice steadying. "....I will be fine." he sounded tired.

[hatterladz]

So let's talk Cuphead's kills

I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE I NEED TO YAP!!! REREAD BE DAMNED I NEED TO SPEAK!!!!

Alrighty so spoilers for Inky Mystery, buckle up this is going to be a long one

Okay so I was going to my fav chapters and doing some rereads

And I'm going rabid about Chapter 177: A Broken Cup and it made me also realize some things with Chapter 334: Can't Sleep a Wink

Now to start off with 334 always bugged me, it felt so out of nowhere. I mean, Cup is sleeping around with girls, being Bendy's wingman and before that doing Fanny favors? Sure there was the gangs but it felt sudden that Cup just killed Wink not only that but that murder was much more emotionally involved then his other jobs. Why?

At first I could believe it's his overprotective streak, but now I think it might be something else, because I reread Chapter 177, where he's getting taunted by the Night Terror. And when I read him being taunted I took it all as lies but during my reread...

How much of Wink's death was really the B-Bros protection? How much of it was for Wilson? Was it really that? Or was it something else?

Much earlier in the story it's mentioned Cuphead laughed at hurting and killing people. But we know he didn't enjoy it, it haunts him. His guilt and regret is mentioned frequently. He even remembers all of his victims.

So why? Why is there so much emphasis in the Labrynth that Cuphead is not just a killer but a killer who likes his job? When he has this much guilt and regret? When he remembers all of their screams and deaths?

Because it's how he copes. He was raised as a killer, it's what he's good at and he also knows that, when it comes to the underworld, an easy solution.

The events surrounding this chapter was more then just Cuphead going through a playboy era with his friend Bendy. The house stresses him out, he can't go there now after the events that happened with Holly. So he went to the Candy Shop, except then Fanny hurt and betrayed him. He doesn't have anywhere to go so he's coping in the worst ways possible.

Violence and women. Now this isn't my post where I talk about how using sex is a coping mechanism is a horrible idea, so I'll move on from that. But let's look at that quote again "I've need something to hit for awhile".

He's doing it as a stress relief. He can't figure things out with Fanny, he can't help his friend with his guilt and fears of killing angels, he can't do anything about the deal with Marcus, the ink machine, the fact he's trapped as the "Devil's Dog".

But he can kill Winky. Winky has his goons all over the house. Winky killed Wilson which caused all his friends pain, Winky tried to attack his friends, Winky has answers to his questions, Winky is a problem. So he takes it out on Winky. He wasn't ever intending of letting Winky go easy, and he especially wasn't planning it after his suspicions were true. Why would he mention he works for the Devil otherwise?

Why did he leave Mugman home? Because Mugs would stop him. He didn't want to be stopped. It's why he doesn't tell anyone about it or Darius after. Sure Darius is a target, and I'm sure information was also a target. But that wasn't the only reason.

But he doesn't want to admit how easy it is for him to kill, the relief it gives. And how guilty he feels afterwards.

Because he doesn't even want to address it's his fault. He did what he had to. He doesn't want to believe what sort of person he is, he doesn't want to remember all the things he's done. He tries to forget. It's not his fault, he was protecting his brother. He was told to by the Devil. He did what he had to. Didn't want to acknowledge the times he had fun tormenting people, to acknowledge how good he is at being a monster [since deep down, that's how he sees himself], and he especially didn't want to acknowledge he killed when he didn't have to. That he took the "easy" way to do things.

He did what he had to. That's what he needs to believe.

[sixosix]

IM HERE. IVE ARRIVED. I HAVE THOUGHTS. when i said i might not come back here cuz i was busy? yeah, FUCK THAT. only divine intervention can keep me away from ur account. THE NEW THAWED PART?? WHAT THE FUCK. i wake up this morning expecting a chapter like, late afternoon but i forgot TIMEZONES EXIST . so u can imagine my absolute shock when i check my notifications bar and hit tumblr writer user sixosix posted new thawed part?? dude. the scream i scrumpt when lyney recognized the reader OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD. i knew it was over when the flower landed by her feet but him saying her name had me DSINFIDSJFJDS?!?!!??! DURING THE SHOW TOO. HE DIDNT WAIT UNTIL IT WAS OVERIJ DSJUFUDJSFIJDSAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! even rereading that part now as i write has me going crazy like i cant even put my excitement into words its SO?!?!?w??VFDXJDVNDSFNC god. okay. the scene where he grabs THE READER BY THE WAIST. 'CAUGHT YOU' ????? YEAH AND I CAUGHT FEELINGS YOURE NOT SPECIAL LYNEY?? THE GRIP ON THE WAIST. AUUUUUUUGH. ARUEGJHHH. ARHGHHRJGFDKD... IM ON MY DEATH BED!! TAKE ME TO THE BEACH SO I MAY GAZE UPON THE SEA ONCE MORE!!!! the mr lyney. miss lynette. falls to my knees. dies. dies. dies. BUT GOD THE FACT THEY THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD TOO? no wonder lyney chased after her !!!! if my girlfriend (one-sided (?)) turned up alive out of no where i would do the same fr. a real man would drop to one knee and propose right there (grow some balls lyney) LYNETTE!!!!! SO CUTE!!!!!!!!! IM GONNA BITE HER SOKFDOSAKDASIJD THE SLOW APPROACH LIKE A TIMID CAT AND THEN THE SMIEL AUHGHDJFSKJFD?!w?FDDJNFODSJKFND!!!!! i cant imagine how she felt finding her bff again im so AUUURHGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! i know she knocked some sense into lyney afterwards LMAOO also reader pretending to be working under tart... ohh i know thats gonna backfire on her later in the story. ALSO CHILDE MENTION YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! do i have my doubts about lyney and lynette believing readers lie? absolutely. you dont grow up with someone and not know when theyre lying.. especially lyney. have u ever watched barbie in the dreamhouse?? theres this episode where ken tries to get a job but he doesnt bc each time barbie has an emergency, so he just becomes a (barbie)house-husband.. thats the vibe im getting from lyney and reader the 'i'm happy to see you' from lyney, and reader (kinda?) dismissing it with the 'goodbye miss lynette and mr lyney' ????? AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH ??????? sending u the number and email to my therapist rn ure paying for my next session. also i love aether, paimons and readers friendship, especially their little banter at the end. ALSO. SIGH. reader calling rosalie maman. when i tell u i screamed i MEAN IT. THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME. I LOVE THEM SO BAD IM GONNA SOB!!!! ............im gonna say, im a bit paranoid though.. youre not gonna hurt rosalie right. righ.t Right. blinking at u. blinking at u. blink blink blink . BLINK. BLIIINK !!!!!!!!!! ok sorry for clogging up ur asks with this . i have no idea how to end this its so long LMAOO. there are so many other parts i loved (brief melusine scene, audience reactions, etc) but i just didnt know how to convey my feelings into words ifgjdifjdji. i love thawed and ur writing SOSOSOSO much and im so excited for future updates!!!!!!!!!!! THATS ALL I GOT TO SAY!!!!!!! ramble mode OFF!!!!!!!! BYEBYE AND TAKE CARE MUAAAAAAAAAH

HIII LIS!!!!! ohh seeing your asks rlly brighten my day. LMFAOOO your comment actually had me laughing out loud “I JUZT WOKR UP WHAT RHE DICK” HAHSA

YES. DURING THE SHOW!!! i want to emphasize that lyney did not care about the audience or the weeks of practice for this very moment if he sees the reader !!!! HELPPP nooooo dont lie on your death bed yet we still have a few more chapters to go through 💔💔

ONE SIDED GF 😭😭😭 IJBOL he definitely wouldve proposed if it wasnt for aether im telling u. YESSS LYNETTE APPRECIATION i love her so much i try to add her as much as i can bc her interactions w lyney are so fun. Theyre literally siblings 😭❤️❤️

CHILDE MENTION !! this is definitely gonna bite her in the ass later but hey thats for another chapter

YES I E WATCHED BARBIE DREAMHOUSE IMQHAHSHEH thats so funny that you said that im saving that as a screwnshot LMFAOOO

Yes i want to up the angst and pain. reader my self destructive thawed!reader … ❤️ but i also need the therapy please do send my number

Rosalie. rosalie, rosalie, rosalie. our maman. reader’s maman especially. Anyway.

AWW its okay!!! dont ever worry about your asks being too long !! i meant it when i said i love reading through them. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT ❤️❤️❤️❤️ TAKE CARE TOO LIS MWA MWA

[sugarysweetdreamz]

I reread this like 20 times before reblogging. You outdid yourself with this part. Top tier writing as usual! Honestly, this is my favorite chapter so far.

I apologize in advance because this is gonna be a long one.

The apartment scene did not dissapoint. Imani and Angels opposite reactions to the obvious dynamic between Rafe and reader was such a fun read. Angel seemed to be impressed that reader snagged a CEO, almost like she sees this as reader coming out of her shell. Imani’s disapproval was layered. She knows he’s readers boss and Rafe never fails to make it obvious that something is going on between them. Imani is upset that reader didn’t tell her but also because this relationship is inappropriate. She also knows how shy reader is, so she’s smart enough to know that he’s abusing his power.

Then there’s Rafe and reader in her bedroom. That was her safe space. A place where she can unwind and not have to deal with his flip flopping emotions or his bullying or her conflicting feelings about him. But now he’s there, making himself comfortable in her space while judging the size of her home. Then he makes reader ask him to fuck her even though we all know he was gonna do it anyway. If their relationship wasn’t obvious to her roommates when he came in their apartment, it was obvious when he didn’t leave.

He enjoys toying with reader. Not having sex with her for 2 weeks but constantly touching her and making her pleasure herself in front of him is both foreplay and a manipulation tactic. He’s conditioned her to associate her pleasure with his own, so when he’s ready to have her, he can enjoy hearing her beg and saying she needs him. Then he gets impatient and rough with her and humiliates her. But after, he’s wiping her face and saying she’s a good girl and holding her when she asks. That praise and gentle touch is what keeps her wanting more.

The cabin scenes:

It was shaping up to be a relaxing weekend. Rafe was calm, the four of them went to a diner, they explored the shops, Eleanor and reader were cooking and bonding. Everything was going well until reader started to question him about her job. She had every right to be worried and want to know what him relocating meant for her. The problem is that Rafe isn’t used to people questioning him, we saw that when he got angry at her for asking if he was okay to drive after drinking. And if Rafe doesn’t like being questioned, he definitely doesn’t like pushback.

People usually go along with what he says or plans and that’s what he expected of reader. When she didn’t, he lashed out. Raising his voice, slamming his hands on the table, screaming that he owned reader. I was so proud that she stood up for herself but I knew it wouldn’t end well. And it didn’t.

Rafe Cameron. Count your fucking days!!!

It’s no secret that this man is violent but wow. He’s been itching to do this since her first day. Rafe told her before he kissed her the first time that he couldnt punish her yet. And before taking her virginity, when she kept trying to get him to stop, he said that he would beat her ass if he didn’t need to be inside her. He treated her like she was nothing and then just left her there. Reader asking him to hold her afterwards and then falling asleep like that when he left her broke my heart. She’s so sweet and this man is ruining her life. I would hope that she would try quitting when they go back to Charlotte but I honestly doubt that would do anything. Rafe is obsessed with her and he’s not letting her go.

I enjoyed the inclusion of Eleanor and her husband with his fuck ass frosted tips. I think they really do enjoy each other’s company but there’s a degree of fakeness that taints their interactions. Topper likes to parade as polite but he’s a classist idiot as well and Eleanor said that he can be a bastard at times. I would love to see their reaction to Rafe beating reader because they definitely heard it. But of course they didn’t do anything and probably didn’t comment when Rafe came back downstairs. I think reader realized during their argument that while Eleanor is sweet and she seems to like reader, she can’t help her. His friend’s presence wont stop him from hurting her. The only person reader has is Rafe, when he wants to be gentle with her.

This was long and I really do apologize 😂😂😂. Like I said this was my favorite chapter so far. You depicted Rafe at his darkest and reader at her most vulnerable. I loved it! It was amazing as always.

well kept [4] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON/NONCON, corporal punishment, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: longest chapter yayyyy :):)

word count: 4.9k

In which Rafe's control pushes you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

well kept masterlist

Rafe Cameron could handle his liquor, you learned that quickly. After accompanying him to a few dinner parties and watching him down several shots of whiskey before finishing an entire pitcher of beer, you wondered how he maintained his physique. He never slurred his words or stumbled, he seemed entirely happier when he was drinking, a completely different person. 

He’d forced you to drink a cocktail and that quickly made you feel wobbly. The nights were a blur of conversations and you were tethered to reality by the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your lower back. He never introduced you as his assistant to his rich friends. You were just Y/N. “She’s cute, yeah?” He would say to people. Usually your dress was way too short or your cleavage was spilling from your top.  Unfortunately, you sipped your drink when you were nervous.

You were exhausted by the end of the night and a little tipsy though you hadn’t dared to drink nearly as much as he did. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home,” He’d said, hand on your waist as he guided you out of the restaurant. Sometimes it made you feel protected. Like Rafe could hurt you, sure, but at least no one else could. 

“Should you be driving?” You’d mistakenly asked, words slipping out before you could stop them. He took it as a challenge to his manhood and the look on his face made you regret it. 

“I’m fine,” He’d looked at you sharply before he commanded, “Get in the fucking car.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer and let him him help you into the passenger side of his truck. He kept his eyes focused on the road, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, and you hoped he wasn’t angry, maybe just deep in thought. 

When he pulled up to your apartment complex, you fumbled for the door handle, eager to escape the tension. But before you could step out, Rafe’s hand was on your arm.

“I’m coming up,” he stated firmly.

“It’s a weeknight,” you said, trying to find a reason that would convince him otherwise. “My roommates are probably asleep by now.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “I’ll be quiet,” a hint of his boozed up charm returned to his voice. Reluctantly, you led him upstairs.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find your roommates, Imani and Angel, still awake, standing in the kitchen with a bottle of wine between them. Their laughter filled the small apartment. Their expressions shifted to complete shock at the sight of Rafe behind you. You smiled, trying to give the impression that all was well, that it was completely normal to be returning to your apartment with your drunk, billionaire boss. 

Imani, with her flawless olive complexion and neatly styled curls, scrutinized the scene with furrowed brows. Beside her, Angel stood tall and vibrant, her unruly tight curls escaping their single hair tie, her mouth agape in astonished silence as she stared at you. Both much more beautiful than you, a sad thought crossed your mind, and you worried for a short millisecond that Rafe would realize he’d made a mistake in picking you. 

“Hey,” You did you best to sound casual, “Rafe, this is Imani and Angel. Imani, Angel, this is Rafe.”

“Your boss, Rafe?” Imani asked incredulousy, her arms crossing over her faded band tee. “I don’t understand-”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” Angel blurted out, practically bouncing on her bare feet, “Can I offer you a drink? We both had a shitty day so we whipped out the strawberry moscato.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. And thanks, tempting offer but I’m quite satisfied at the moment,” His voice was smooth and effortlessly disarming. He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you into him, and your eyes widened, “I’m just here to make sure Y/N gets a good night’s rest.”

Both Imani and Angel looked at you with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Imani’s eyes, in particular, were sharp and disapproving, clearly questioning how you had kept this from her. Her gaze was heavy with the unspoken question: How could you be involved with Rafe and not have told her?

“Make yourself at home,” Angel said, clearly more excited than angry, and Imani’s intense gaze snapped to her, “I’m about to make popcorn and we’re about to watch a movie if you guys-”

“Angel,” Imani whispered harshly, “Leave them alone.”

“I’m j-j-just gonna, uhm, goodnight, guys,” You took Rafe’s arm and led him away from the tension filled kitchen to the narrow hallway that led to your bedroom. You felt he weight of Imani’s disapproval lingering in the air. 

Your small apartment that you shared with two other people was a stark contrast to the luxurious settings you’d been in over the last few weeks. As Rafe’s eyes wandered over your tiny room, the awkwardness of the situation continued to build. 

“This is …cozy,” He said after you shut the door. He was already taking off his suit jacket and undoing his cuff links. Was Rafe Cameron really going to spend the night here with you? Maybe he was drunker than you thought.  “So this is where you unwind after a long day of dealing with me?” 

Was that humor you heard in his voice? Dealing with him. You more than dealt with Rafe Cameron. You practically let him walk you around on a leash. 

“Do you feel bad for me yet?” You tried to joke but there was too much animosity in your tone. 

He chuckled before starting to undo his belt, “I try not to feel bad for other people. Life’s easier that way. Sides’, this won’t be your life for much longer.”

As he stripped down to his underwear, he started to settle into your bed, the lines between your professional and personal worlds now blurrier than ever. 

“I wasn’t expecting t-t-t-t … to have company tonight,” You said, gathering his pile of clothes from your carpet and doing your best to fold them and place them neatly on top of your dresser. 

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” He winked as he folded his arms behind his head, and you had to avert your eyes from his statue-esque physique. Broad shoulders, thick arms and chest, and abs that acted like an arrow that pointed down to his … “Plus, I wanted to see where you lived.”

“Now you see I d-d-don’t have sss-space for all my new work outfits,” You started to undress now, realizing there was no way out of this long night except by sleeping. You kicked off your heels, placing them neatly at the bottom of your closet. You put an oversized t-shirt on and used it to cover your body as you slipped off your mini-dress. 

“Yeah, I see that now. It’s like a shoebox in here,” You shot him an offended look and he smiled stupidly, “It’s cute.”

“You sss-say that word a lot,” You mumbled before finding a pair of fuzzy socks and taking a seat at the very edge of your bed, bending over to slip them on. 

“C’mere,” he patted the spot next to him and you hesitated. 

He wouldn’t, you thought, not while your roommates were on the other side of a paper thin wall. But he would, you remember, Rafe Cameron would do that. He already had the gall to walk into your apartment with his hand on your waist despite being the one who paid your salary. He would do it and you’d let him because you had no spine. 

“Y/N?” You pinched your eyes shut for a brief moment before you inevitable crawled into the spot next to him. You’d never really laid next to him in bed and it wasn’t what you were expecting. Even on his side, laying down, his presence enveloped you. You felt small like you usually did. He easily pressed himself to you, impossibly strong arms pulling your fronts together. 

“You hhh-have to be quiet,” You whispered. 

“I’m not the loud one,” He chuckled, warm breath tickling your shoulder and making you shiver. He placed a kiss there, one arm wrapped around your back and pulling you closer while the other tickled over the skin on your bare thigh, “I could fuck you so slow, so gentle, and I’m sure you’d be screaming.”

“No,” You argued though you weren’t sure why. 

“No? You think you could stay quiet?” A excruciatingly soft and wet kiss was placed on your collarbone. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, “I’m sss-sserious, Rafe.”

“So informal,” He shook his head, the hand that was on your thigh started to peel up your shirt. To your surprise, Rafe ducked inside the fabric of your shirt, beginning to burrow his head into your breast, “My fucking favorite place on your cute, little body.”

He seemed to groan, something animalistic, placing kisses along your skin. His breath tickled your nipples and you tried to pull away. He flips you fully onto your back, pinning you with his weight, his mouth threatening to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You couldn’t take it, “Okay, okay, y-yess,” You rushed out, “I c-couldn’t stay quiet. You’re right.”

You look down to watch him pop his head out from under your shirt, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I-I admit it. Please.”

“Please stop? Please fuck you quietly?” Rafe teased you, “You’re not adding sir to the end of your sentences so it gets kinda hard to understand–”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” You pleaded with him through your eyes, “Please …fuck me quietly, Sir.”

“That’s better,” He pulled your shirt over your breasts before he completely devoured them. 

The next time Rafe decided to have sex with you was two weeks later, right as he walked into his office. You should’ve known by the outfit he had chosen for you. The white blouse had an air of professionalism, but the plaid, pleated skirt barely reached mid-thigh, making you certain the entire elevator caught a glimpse of your underwear when you dropped your notebook that morning.

It felt like he’d been teasing you up until that point. You'd lost track of how many times he made you orgasm in front of him during those two weeks. He had an insatiable fascination with watching you pleasure yourself, wanting you completely vulnerable, often in compromising positions, with your eyes locked on his the moment it happened. Whether it was on top of his desk, against the office window, or bent over a coffee table, you were starting to grow comfortable with being uncomfortable.

He couldn’t resist touching you, making you grind against him, or rapidly moving his fingers in and out of you until you were shaking. However, he had managed up until that point to not actually fuck you. It was getting to the point you found yourself pouting at him from your desk as you watched him complete his daily meetings. 

You didn’t have a chance to get out your usual spiel about his meetings for the day because his briefcase was already on the ground, and his arms were wrapped around your backside as he carried you over to his desk, “Take off your panties,” He commanded after setting you on his desk. He stepped back, fumbling with his belt and zipper, “Now, sweetheart. C’mon.” He said and you realized you clearly weren’t moving fast enough for him. 

Your panties weren’t even around your knees before he was lifting up your legs and pulling them off the rest of the way. He parted your legs, immediately dipping his fingers into you, “You’re already wet,” It was just an observance. No smile or smirk or evidence that he was at all pleased with the revelation, “Desperate little girl. You been thinking about me, yeah?”

You stared up at his lips, pink and parted and imagined them on yours, his soft stubble tickling the skin of your mouth. Why wasn’t he kissing you? Everything with him was a ritual. You couldn’t get what you wanted until you felt utterly humiliated and vulnerable. He couldn’t get what he wanted until you had tears in your eyes. You nodded, “Yes.”

“Fucking say it,” He barked and you winced. 

“I’ve b-b-been th-thhhinking about you,” You admitted although he already knew it. Your own well being seemed to rely on being obsessed with him. If you wanted any sexual satisfaction, he was the one who brought it. He was the entire reason you had a good income now. He was everything. 

“You haven’t touched yourself though, not without my permission?”

You nodded, “Nnn-not without your permission.”

“Cause you need me,” He finally placed his lips on yours and you nodded against them. 

“I nnn-need you,” You mewled between kisses as he pressed his crotch into yours. The two of you both tilted back towards his desk, “Please, Sir.”

You had consented, despite not being fully prepared. It didn’t feel like the first or second time. The first time had been overwhelming, your orgasms crashing over you like a storm, while the second time had been so gentle that the pleasure left you feeling like you were vibrating with ecstasy. You wanted him, undeniably, but nothing had prepared you for the intensity of him filling you completely. This was what you had desirel, feeling full, but now you were overwhelmed, as though he was consuming every part of you.

With his hands braced on either side of your head, he looked down at you, his gaze intense and focused. He moved inside you with a relentless, unyielding rhythm, driving into you with an insatiable need.

The room faded away around you. You couldn’t feel yourself breathing nor could you hear the sounds leaving your mind. You just stared back, your face a mix of anguish and pleasure, and accepted your fate. You didn’t fight your orgasm this time, your body moved instinctively, squeezing around him, your hips grinding up for more friction. 

When he was close, he pulled out of you. Your energy was already gone, your orgasm having taken almost everything from you, but he moved your body effortlessly. He pulled you off the desk before placing you on your knees in front of you. Your legs folded easily, weakly, “Fuck,” He cursed, pantting, and you watched him take his cock in his own hand. 

You reached out to take ahold of him but he pushed your hand away. His hands moved, determined, rhythmic, “Ask me to cum on your face.”

His breaths were heavy, desperate, and he clung to that control that had slipped away when he was inside you. 

“Will y-you cum on my face, Sir?” 

The question hung in the air, tension thickening, until he was finally gritting his teeth. He broke eye contact only as his orgasm ripped through him. The room filled with his moans and you did your best not overreact to that warm, sticky feeling that was now violating your senses. 

“Good girl, look at you,” He said and you squeezed your eyes tightly as it began to drip onto your eyelid. 

You breathed deeply, the intensity of the moment deciding to peak, and tears started to spill over. You became a crumpled pile of pleasure, shame and exhaustion. It seemed like the only way to release your emotions. Unexpectedly, you didn’t sit their alone. Rafe was the one to wipe your face with a tissue. He cooed, “Hey, you did good, kid. You’re a good girl,” He whispered sweet nothings to you. 

“C-C-Can you hold me?” You asked, voice trembling, so embarrassed that you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to see how he was feeling or know what he was thinking. It was all too much.

Without a word, Rafe lifted you effortlessly into his arms. His strength was both reassuring and overwhelming as he carried you behind his desk, his body warm and solid against yours. He settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap with a sense of protective intimacy. For the rest of the morning, he worked with you nestled against him, your face buried into his neck. 

Rafe Cameron’s Appalachian cabin was one of the twelve properties he owned personally. You got to it by passing though a quaint and charming town. Despite the fact that he normally spends only three weekends of the entire year there, all the locals know him. 

The four of you; Rafe, you, Eleanor and Topper, made your way down main street which was lined with old-fashioned storefronts. In the middle was the town square which featured an old, courthouse building and a gazebo where you see a few locals gathering. The four of you enjoy a diner meal at the Blue Ridge Breakfast Bar before you walk through a few shops. It almost feels .. normal. You were surprised the three of them were even willing to walk through the antique buildings, let alone find the shops interesting. 

You didn’t know people like them even ate at diners or were interested in antique trinkets that cost less then five dollars. It was surreal. In another life, the three of them were normal people, and maybe you and Rafe could have been a normal couple. 

You often found yourself glancing at Rafe, marveling at the contrast between his usual, impeccably dressed self and the more relaxed look he wore today. Seeing him in jeans and a baseball cap, casually strolling through the town, was almost disorienting. 

It was a similar feeling you got when Rafe suddenly flipped a switch after being cruel to you and decided to comfort you. 

Despite the fact that he was technically on vacation, you were still his personal assistant, and yet he hadn’t asked you about anything related to assisting him since he picked you up that morning from your apartment. 

You wouldn’t say it to him, partially out of fear that he would deny it, but it felt like he wanted you appear like a couple. Topper and Eleanor undoubtedly new the truth so why was he acting like this? You never held hands like them but his hand would find your knee when you sat next to each other and sometimes he wrapped around your shoulder when you were standing close by. 

Sometimes, your body didn’t want to relax around him, and the intimacy brought you anxiety. Soemtimes he was easier to read when he was drunk, or inside of you, or yelling at you. You weren’t familiar with this version of him. But you were stuck with the three of them for the next three nights. 

Surrounded by towering pines and the soft hush of nature, the cabin was more of fortress nestled into the natural beauty of the mountains. You followed Rafe across a gravel path towards a large front porch which was framed by sturdy wooden columns. You stared up at large windows that endorned the front of the house, undoubtedly letting in a large amount of natural light, as you walked through the entrance. 

The house was a complete reflection of his taste and the extent of his success. As Topper and Rafe left for the bedroom to drop off luggage, you and Eleanor made your way to the kitchen with the bags of groceries you’d acquired from the local mini-mart. Surprisingly, this place didn’t come with it’s own personal chef. 

Like with everything else, you followed Eleanor’s lead when it came to cooking that weekend. She encouraged you to get ingredients for a dish you knew you could make on your own and you chose spaghetti despite the idea of feeding billionaire Rafe Cameron your homemade spaghetti making you feel stupid. 

“I’ll show you how to arrange a charcuterie board,” She said as she poured you a glass of red wine, “You’ll be the perfect housewife when I’m done with you, Y/N.”

The afternoon actually ended up being fun. You and Eleanor laughed in the kitchen while Rafe and Topper watched a football game in the living room, nursing cans of beer. The wine relaxed you and soon you were giggling over unevenly cut salami and spilled strawberry jam. The two of you ended up eating half the ingredients meant for the board, much to Eleanor’s amusement.

Eleanor loosened up even more, even getting comfortable enough to tell you a story about Topper, “You know, one time back when we lived in Kildare, he tried to make me pancakes for my birthday. From the box, not even from scratch, and he burnt every one. Literally every single one. The kitchen looked like it had been through a tornado. I don’t know how he even managed that.”

You covered your mouth, shaking your head, “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“He went through the whole box! He had to serve them to me like that. No amount of syrup and whip cream can mask that taste.”

“I didn’t realize we were telling personal stories,” You whipped your head around as you heard Topper’s voice. Your heart raced for a second, worried, but he made his way around the kitchen island and hugged his wife from behind. Rafe was following behind him but made his way over to you. You composed yourself as much as possible. 

“I was telling Y/N about how good of a cook you are,” She joked and he playfully tickled her sides and soon they were laughing together. 

The two male’s casual demeanors seemed to complement the laid-back energy of the afternoon. You watched Rafe’s lips pull into a smirk as he surveyed your work and your empty glass of wine. 

Dinner rolled around a few hours later, a relaxed atmosphere continuing to permeate through the air. You’d set the table in the dining room, the ten-person table sat next to a large window overlooking an expansive lake, and aided Eleanor in preparing her beef stir-fry. 

“It’s really good, Eleanor,” You complimented her once all of you were seated and digging into your food. 

“Thanks,” She grinned, “You’re a good sous chef, Y/N.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “Not better than me though, right, honey?” Topper asked. 

“Of course not, honey,” Eleanor winked at him. 

Small talk ensued and despite the fact that Eleanor warned the two men that business talk would bring down the room, they spent a good ten minutes talking about something called “tax increment financing”. 

Eleanor interrupted after it became too much, “So, Rafe, are you going to do any more renovations on this place?”

“After they finish the pool next summer, no. Did the home theatre, renovated the master bathroom and expanded the garage this summer. It’ll probably be move-in-ready next year.”

“Oh, are you selling it?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Rafe’s gaze flickered away, an unusual reaction for him. He usually had a quip or a witty retort ready. “No, I plan to spend more time away from Charlotte after New Year's. I’ll be living here at least five days a week.”

“Oh,” You nodded though you really hadn’t comprehended his words. You looked back down at your plate, and as you took another bite, his words started to set in. It was an inappropriate time to delve further but your mind started to race. He’d never mentioned that he wouldn’t even be living in Charlotte after the next few months. Shouldn’t he have mentioned this by now? “I-I thought …”

“We can talk about it later, Y/N,” Rafe dismissed you, bringing a piece of meat to his mouth, and looking away. 

He spoke as if you were annoying him now. Eleanor opened her mouth again to change the subject but you interrupted her, “I-I’m sorry … w-will you still need me then? If I’m in Chhhh-Charlotte and you’re here.”

“Did you hear me the first time, Y/N?” Rafe’s jaw set as he dropped his silverware. The clang made you jump but your mind was spinning. It was a simple question, wasn’t it? Was he stringing you a long? Would you be out of a job next year? 

“I-It p-p-p-pertains to me,” You continued, your heart racing as Rafe grimaced, “Can’t y-you just say if I’ll have a job or not?”

“You’ll have a job,” Getting confirmation made your shoulders drop from relief. It was almost worth whatever seed of rage you’d planted within him, “But you’ll relocate with me.”

“What?” You pushed your plate away, leaning back in your chair. 

Topper and Eleanor exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the escalating tension. It felt like you’d already poked the bull, you felt like you had to see it through,  “I’ll need you to move here. Won’t make sense to juggle from two places.”

“Mmm-my life is i-in Chhh-Charlotte. You n-never said this before,” You tried to keep your voice steady, to express your genuine disappointment despite your frustration. 

“It’s not my fault you haven’t caught on, Y/N,” He spoke sharply, “You know how this works. I manage my properties and business. My plans change. You’re a part of that. You’re making it an issue when it’s not. You’re acting like you have a million options.”

“I-I know I don’t–”

You looked at Topper and then Eleanor. Now, the two of them were looking anywhere but the two of you. 

“Then act like it.”

“Rafe–”

“I fucking own you, you don’t even understand that.”

“Rafe!”

“One more word, Y/N, and I swear to God.”

Your lips parted and your voice started to tremble as you felt the sting of his words, “This is so … shitty,” Perhaps it was the distance, the wood table that sat between you that made you feel so bold.

Rafe’s anger erupted, his face reddening as he slammed his hands on the table. “Boo-fucking-hoo, sweetheart! I’ve given you everything, the clothes on your back, keeping the lights on in your crappy apartment, and you’re still ungrateful?”

Your frustration reached its breaking point. “Fuck you, Rafe!” you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want it anymore!”

You pushed your chair back abruptly, no goal in mind for where you’d stomp off to but you felt your blood boiling. Was his entire goal to completely ruin your life? 

“Y/N!” He called after you and you turned your head to realize how close he was on your tail.  Adrenaline surged through you, the thought that you might never have control of your life left you close to completely spiraling. Determined to get away, you picked up your pace, practically running through the million-dollar home, over shiny waxed floors, moonlight shining through tall windows. 

He barked your name again and before you could reach the front door, his hand shot out and seized your upper arm. You screamed, his fingers squeezing your flesh so hard that you thought your skin might break. Swinging your body around, your feet lifted off the ground as he through you over his strong shoulder. 

Kicking, struggling, screaming and crying, Rafe carried you up a grand staircase, “Please,” You were begging but adrenaline was pumping though him too, making him moved with his own determination. He kicked open door and your head whipped as he stepped inside, slamming it closed. You couldn’t focus on any detail in the room but as he through you onto an expansive bed, you assumed it was the master bedroom. For a moment, you played a game of cat and mouse. You gained your balance, and tried to crawl off the bed. Every direction you went, he moved faster, until you were sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed. 

“You need to understand your place,” You watched as he started to loose the brown belt looped into his blue jeans. 

You shook your head frantically, “I don’t w-want this.”

“It will be easier if you just apologize,” Rafe let out a breath of air, a weary sigh, his face frustrated, “I promise, I’ll make it easier for you.”

“If I-I …w-will you use the belt?”

“I have to use the belt, sweetheart, you’ve been so bad. Tell you what, if you apologize, I won’t tie you down to the bed. How’s that sound?” 

The offer was as chilling as it was manipulative. You shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize.

The process of what followed was both brutal and dehumanizing. You were left feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body laid bare and handcuffed to one of the posts of the canopy bed. The sting of the belt on your skin was relentless, each strike leaving a deep, aching mark that quickly turned to a disturbing shade of purple. Your apologies came out in frantic, broken pleas, but they seemed to come too late.

You even managed to ask him to hold you but he didn’t grant your wish that time. He left you to go back downstairs. You slid down to your knees when you couldn’t stand any longer, falling asleep in that position, head resting at a strange angle against the mattress. 

When you next awoke, the light of morning was gently filtering through the curtains. Rafe’s arms were wrapped around you, his steady breathing and soft snoring a stark contrast to the harshness of the previous night. His nose pressed into your hair, a reminder of his physical presence.

You cried softly against him, the tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to him. The sounds were muffled against his chest as you hugged him tighter.

hope you enjoyed!!

[melancholymetropolis]

No Idea

Pairings: Athlete!Kirishima x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: College AU The reader is Kirishima's History tutor and they kinda have a crush on each other. It takes an afterparty filled with horny guys and a skin-tight dress for Kiri to realize he wants them all to himself.

Warning: Do I even need to say it at this point? It's smut, obvi. Kinda unedited. The reader and her best friend are black. Kirishima is a football player; he's VERY possessive over the reader. Her best friend is a little gay for her as well.

Author's Note: This was a commission!!!!! The client gave me this insane prompt and I had no choice but to go over the word limit. If you want to commission me, click here! Your support really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5,300

“You’re back early!” My roommate, Liza, yelled from the other side of the apartment-style dorm room. The sound of her chair scraping the floor followed shortly after, along with the light footsteps of her sock-clad feet. “I left you a plate in the microwave, in case you were hungry. I could heat it up, if you’re too tired— why the long face? What happened?”

“He didn’t show up,” I sighed as I dropped my books on the table and sank into a chair.

“How can he not show up?” Liza fumed crossing her arms. “His GPA is already in the gutter from all the other quizzes he seemed to fail before the semester even started.”

“I know,” I replied in a bored tone.

“He’s on academic probation—”

“I know.”

“One more hiccup and he’ll be off the football team—”

“I know.”

“Not to mention how you practically have to bend backward to make time for him—”

“Mhm.”

“Just for him to flake on you for the third time! I just—”

“Liza, please,” I rose from my seat and stood in front of her. “You don’t have to be angry with me. It’s truly okay.”

“No! It’s not okay!” She stormed to the microwave and pulled the cover plate from the inside. She removed the foil and pushed it back into the device, before pressing the start button four times. She turns to face me and forces an angered sigh from her lips. “He likes you, you know that right?”

I lifted my books from the table and walked to our shared room. I took in the words that she threw at me with each step and digested them. Kirishima liked me. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have an inkling that he may be, sorta found me attractive. Although I wore glasses, I wasn’t blind. At least with them on. I saw the way he looked at me when we were less than a foot apart. Shoulders practically touching as we slouched over the Advanced American History textbook. Our hands brushing against each other’s ever so often. The sparkle in his eye when he looked at me longer than a few seconds; the blush on his cheeks when I smiled at his corny jokes. His persistent tendency to walk me home, although most times, we finished our study sessions just before dusk. The way he stayed glued to my side during the journey to my dorm. How he’d carry my books on the way. I noticed it all and practically welcomed it, since I too found him attractive. The spiky redhead just had a way of making everyone swoon over him. Kirishima was genuinely a nice person, not because there was something in it for him, but just because.

The beeping from the microwave brought me back to reality. I placed the textbooks on the designated space on the shelf and fixed my scattered stationery from that morning. Liza shuffled in with a bowl of baked fetta pasta, and a piece of toasted garlic bread a few minutes later. She placed the bowl on the desk, with a fork, a can of sparkling soda, and my favorite metal straw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I said with a tired smile.

“Helped me pass ‘Text and Ideas’ with an A-,” Liza smiled back and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh right,” I took a seat at the desk and forked the starchy dish in my mouth. “This is heaven-sent.”

“I knew you’d like it!” She deemed walking to her own desk. “I got the recipe from tiktok.”

I hum in response and continued to stuff my face. After a few minutes of silence, I grab the phone from my back pocket and unlocked it. A new message from Kirishima was the newest notification from many and it said:

Hey, I am sorry for not showing up. My teammate got shitfaced and decided to take a dive into the fountain. It took three of us to pull him out. It sucks because I was really looking forward to seeing you.

Since my mouth had already filled to its brink with pasta, I opted for a tight-lipped smirk instead of a toothy one. Kirishima all but admitted that he missed me. My hunch was right: the feelings are mutual. I swallowed the pasta and swiveled around in my chair to look at Liza. Her eyes were glued to her phone, but she snapped her head up to laugh at the content on her screen. Once she was down laughing, I picked my phone up and pointed it in her general direction. Reaching forward, she grasped the device and quickly read the message.

“Don’t respond to him,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“Why? I thought you were shipping us together?” I asked whilst forking more pasta in my mouth.

“That’s why I’m telling you what I am telling you!” Liza rose to her feet and in a split second, she stood in front of me with a sickening smile.

“I am afraid to ask,” I said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to; I’m gonna tell you anyway,” she squats between my legs and widens her smile. “That boy is already wrapped around your finger, all you need to do is pull away. Just a tiny bit and he’ll come running.”

“Liza. . .”

“Hear me out!” She rose to her feet again and walked to the closet. “Remember when I went thrift shopping last week and I picked up that cute bodycon dress?”

“Yeah. . . ?”

“Well, I washed it and realized that it didn’t have the BODY to fill it out properly.” She pulls the dress from the closet and turns back to me. “And since the Homecoming Afterparty is at the Quarterback's house tomorrow night, I thought it would be the perfect time for you to wear it.”

I eye the dress, taking in its extremely short length and strappy detailing on the front. One wrong move and my breasts would spill right out of it. But, one right move would have them fall onto Kiri’s lap. I tried my best to list the pros and cons of the situation. Pondering what I could get out of the ordeal going to the lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. Yet, all I could imagine was me twerking on someone’s son and taking him home afterward.

💘🖤💘🖤

The dress fit like a glove: perfectly tight, almost like a second skin, but very breathable. I paired it with some hoop earrings, a few bangles on each wrist, and 3-inch kitten heels. My goal was to dress to impress, not nurse my aching arches by the end of the night. The entire ride over to the nicer part of town was nerve-wracking, for one, the Uber driver wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage from the driver’s mirror. And, secondly, Liza practically had phone sex with her boyfriend, who was going to meet us at the party. I stared down at my phone the whole time, rereading Kiri’s message and the ones he sent afterward. It was true, he was wrapped around my finger. He didn’t double text; Kirishima sent five messages in a row.

Hey, are you free tomorrow? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

I’ll buy you that weird thing you like from Starbucks.

The drink you said that tastes like the moon.`

And I’ll get you those cake pop things.

My heart couldn’t help but flutter; I didn’t know he was paying that much attention to me. I only mentioned that Starbucks drink once in his presence, quite a while ago. It had to be a little over a month ago, yet he still remembered.

The car stopped and Liza popped right out. Her 34 inch Brazilian, straight swaying behind her as she closes the door. Still chatting with her boyfriend, she motions me out of the car with an eager smile. Reluctantly, I detach myself from the cool leather and tug on my dress as I closed the door behind me. I looked up toward the mansion before me, white paint and overwhelming size almost frightened me. But, when I saw a familiar, spiky-haired, redhead, all my potential fear left my body and warmth replaced it.

Kirishima’s back was to me; he was having an intense conversation with his best friend, Bakugo, one of the team’s Linebackers. The blond was so close to popping a fuse but Kiri was struggling to keep from laughing directly in his face. I approach the porch, slow and sensual, my eyes glued to him the entire walk over. Kirishima briefly turns around to address a comer of the group, Sero, an offensive player, when his eyes come up the steps. The humorous expression on his face drops and is replaced with awe. The other two boys look in the direction of his eyesight and replicate his reaction.

“Hi—” I lifted my hand to wave, but it never made it past my abdomen. Liza appeared right in front of me and captured my wrist.

“Girl, it’s our song! Hurry up!” She said as she proceeded to drag me into the house.

“Bye—! Wait, damn!”

Liza pulled me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room of the home. She starts to bop side to side, swaying her hips in place. It takes me a few seconds to register that “34+35” was blasting the speakers. Liza twirls around me in a fit of giggles and continues to bop along to the music.

“I thought you liked “positions” better than this track?” I questioned as I matched her rhythm.

“I do! I just had to get you out of there,” Liza answered as she swayed her head back and forth. Which made her hair move in an angelic wave behind her bandeau top and pencil skirt. “Those three guys looked like they wanted to run a train on you.”

“ELIZABETH!!!!” I screamed with a shocked smile.

“What?! I’m not lying!” She gives me a bashful smirk. “You look so good, mamas! Shit, you're making me rethink my relationship with Shinso.”

“Oh my god!” I laughed. “I can’t take your ass anywhere, for real!”

The song began to fade out and bleed into “Pussy Talk” with the infamous City Girls. Liza’s soft bops began to move into full booty bouncing. Soon her hands are on her knees and she’s throwing her ass back on my lap. I press my hand flat on her back and lift my other hand in the air. She whines her waist and looks back at me as her inner hot girl is threatening to make an appearance. Shortly after the first verse, Liza straightens her back and dances around me as I bop to the side, bouncing my ass to the music. A smile comes to my lips as my favorite part plays on full blast.

“Pussy talented, it do cartwheels,” Liza and I screamed in unison. “And he pay ‘cause he like how that part feel.”

“Pussy give speeches, heartfelt,” I continued, popping my back against my friend.

“Yuh,” Liza ad-libbed.

“Said the pussy really talk like it Garfield,” I rapped as I felt Liza’s hands glide up my sides.

“It do!”

We danced around each other for the rest of the song and pulled away from the floor, desperately needing to hydrate. We practically stumbled toward the makeshift bar across the living room. We reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. We chugged the water and tossed the empty bottles in the trash.

“Only water, ladies?” Mineta asked as we turned back towards the dance floor. “You don’t want something a little. . . stronger?”

“Get lost, grape juice,” a familiar voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

Just a few feet behind the purple blob stood Kirishima and Shinso. If looks could kill, Mineta’s body parts would be staining the marble floors and messing up my fresh pedicure. The poor excuse for a human scurried away as both football players approached us. Shinso instantly wrapped his arms around Liza and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Having fun, baby girl?” His low voice sounded sensual against the harsh music.

A seductive smile falls on Liza’s face. “I would’ve had even more fun if you actually danced with me for once.”

“You know I don’t like—”

“Too bad!” She pulled Shinso to the dance floor.

Leaving me alone with Kirishima. I turned to look at him and offered him an awkward smile. “How was your diving lesson?”

The redhead returned my smile and scratched the back of his neck. “So you did read me my texts? I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.”

“Not at you, per se,” I replied thinking of my words carefully.

“Then who were you mad at?” Kirishima closes the distance between us and puts a finger under my chin. He redirects my attention to his face and gives me a smirk.

He looked good and he knew it. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. But, he paired it with a burgundy leather jacket and a Cuban link silver chain. He had a gold wristwatch on his left wrist and a simple chain on his right. And his cologne. . . it danced in my nostrils. It wasn’t too heavy or suffocating; you simply had to be close to him to smell it.

Kirishima was playing a dangerous game and he knew it.

“At the people that take you away from me,” I looked at him with doughy eyes and slightly parted lips. A look of innocence was written all over my face.

Kirishima clenched his jaw and briefly looked away. A blush starting to form on his cheeks. “Well, I—. Shit.” He remained silent for a few seconds, gathering his words, before saying “You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked while removing his hand from my chin and bringing it to my lips. I gently kiss his bruised knuckles, never breaking eye contact while doing so.

The redhead opens his mouth to speak but is rudely interrupted by a yelling Liza.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, BITCH!!!! THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!!!!”

While I was talking to Kirishima, the music seemed to slip away. I had no idea what was playing until I refocused my attention on the blaring speakers. “Come on, Kiri. Duty calls.” I drag him to the dance floor.

Liza unlatches herself from Shinso and twirls around me. “I’m not shy, I’ll say it. I’ve been picturing you naked.”

“I’m a little faded, you look like a fucking painting,” I continue the verse as I glide my hands along my body. “Big doe eyes, amazin’. She’s everything I’ve been prayin’.”

Liza walked up to Kirishima and glided her hand along his chest. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress-up house.” She pressed two fingers against her lips and poked her tongue out. “I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Kirishima blushes a bright red, nearly matching his hair. It takes everything in me not to laugh.

I look back at Shinso and he’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Go get your girlfriend, before she devours your teammate,” I said giggly quietly.

“Go get your best friend before she kills your loverboy,” Shinso counters looking down at me with a smirk.

“He looks like he's gonna pass out,” I replied, struggling to contain my laughter.

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen him when you were twerking on Liza,” Shinso jested while leaning closer to me. “Eijiro looked like he came in his pants.”

I smacked his arm and leaned against his chest. “You’re lying!” Laughter overcame my body; tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes.

“I swear to god,” Shinso struggled to say while laughing. “Then, when Bakugo called you hot. . . Eiji almost went feral.”

“Stop. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

“You better fuck him like the world is ending. . . I can’t keep stopping him from. . . fighting the entire team over you.”

“You and Liza. . . perfect for each other. . . I cannot. . .”

The song swiftly faded out into another. Yet another one of Liza’s favorites: Buss it by Erika Banks.

The young woman peeled herself from Kirishima and began walking to her boyfriend. I distanced myself from Shinso and walked over to Kirishima. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “Are you okay, Kiri?” A smile painted my lips.

His eyes darkened and he gripped my waist firmly. “I want you. . . so bad right now.”

“How about we get outta here?” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, I’ll bring the car around,” Kirishima asserted with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before detaching himself from me and walking out of the living room.

I turned back to Shinso and Liza, who were seconds away from eating each other’s face off. I tapped the loving couple and cleared my throat. They both pulled away and stared at me.

"We're leaving," I said simply.

"About fucking time," Liza replied with a smirk. "You better come back to the dorm in a goddamn wheelchair, if not, I'm sending you back to his place."

"You have like zero chill," I shook my head and waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Liza yelled after me.

A chuckle fell from my lips as I walked out of the front door. I found Kirishima exactly where he said he'd be: parked in front of the massive house, within a bright red mustang. He exited the car and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened my door and helped me get in. Kirishima made sure I was buckled in and comfortable before entering the car on the driver's side.

He starts the vehicle, and places his right hand on my thigh. He gives the plush fresh a securing squeeze before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was short and sweet, averaging around ten minutes. We parked across the street from the boys’ dorm hall and exited the car. Kirishima opened my door and helped me out of the vehicle.

"If you don't want this, I could always take you home," he said as he shut my door. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I want this more than you know," I responded while gripping his hand. "But, if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll let you know."

Kirishima nods and smiles. "Good girl. Now let's go."

The moment his dorm's door closed, his body was pressed against mine and his hand glued to my waist. His lips massaged against my own, slow and sensually. I moaned against the kiss, and pressed my body closer to his. He felt so good attached to me, almost like he was meant to be against me. His searing hot kisses inched down my jawline and to my neck. Kirishima's hands slid up my abdomen and to my shoulders, he slipped the straps from the curved surface and pulled away just enough just to allow me to remove them from my arms.

He kissed the other side of my neck, leaving little bites here and there. The redhead ran his tongue against my collarbones and I swear a flood rushed to my nether regions. Kirishima kissed down and left my breast, gathering the anticipation that swirled through my body before latching his lips on my nipple. A throat my moan fell from my mouth and my legs jolted slightly. My mind continued to fog as he nestled against the sensitive bud, while happily moaning against the soft flesh. I pressed one hand against the front door and another in his hair.

Pants left my lips as I began to squirm underneath his body. "Take me to the bed, please," I begged while looking down at him. " I want you so bad, Kiri."

The redhead detached himself from my breast and gripped my chin. "Say my name, baby." His red eyes stared deeply into my brown ones, taking in every little detail of my expression.

"Eijiro," I said breathlessly.

"Say it again," he broke eye contact and gripped my waist.

"Eijiro."

His hands slipped down the curve of my rear and to my legs. He lifted limbs from off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his leg immediately afterward and giggled.

He walked further into the dorm room and passed through another dorm. He sits me on the extra-long twin bed and falls to his knees between my legs. Kiri unlatches my strappy heel and tosses it to the other side of the room. While he does the other foot, a smirk presses against his lips.

"What?" I asked while looking down at him.

"I'm just thinking about how this started," he said while smiling. "How my shifty grades gave me the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Stop it," I counter with a blush on my face. "You're exaggerating."

"Baby, I mean it with every fiber of my being when I say this," he leaned forward. "I've wanted to be with you for a while now, I just didn't know if you'd like me back. And I was kinda ashamed of taking so long to say something because you're so sweet and you really helped me a lot with Advanced American History. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for information or anything."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips on his forehead. "I liked you even before I officially knew you. When you beat the shit out of that guy that tried to home a drunk girl."

"I don't even remember that."

"It was during a Halloween party last year, that was when I first saw you. And I thought, "wow I wish more men like him existed in this world"."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not? You basically saved that girl's life and dignity. You were the only human being in a room full of predators. That's when I knew I wanted you for myself."

Kirishima laughs. "Greedy, little Y/N."

I shrugged.

"Come here."

I gathered the football player into my arms and pressed my lips onto his. Taking in every ounce of his kiss. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slipping my tongue within his mouth. Tugging against his collar to close the distance between us. After a few seconds, Kirishima kissed down my body again until he was face to face with my heated center. He scrunched the dress around my waist and pulled my panties off my legs before spreading my legs wide open.

"Oh… look how wet you are, baby," he kissed the soft skin in between my thighs. "All for me."

Kirishima dipped his head between my legs and took a long swipe at the sticky mess between them. A shiver ran along my spine, Arching my back, I released a soft whimper and spread my legs further apart. He dipped his tongue into the smooth canal repeatedly, bobbing his head as he completed the action. His calloused hands slid up my legs once more and hooked around my thighs. Kiri moved his hot mouth from the very bottom of my womanhood to the top, leaving a long string of spit along the way. The redhead sucked on the protruding bud tenderly; with hollowed cheeks, he looked up from my heat and stared into my eyes. I bit my lip and moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I arched my back against his mouth and bucked my hips slowly.

Kirishima released my bud with a silent “pop” and began lapping the rosy, pink button in great haste. My legs jolted at the new source of stimulation and a throaty whine fell from my lips. Squeezing my eyes shut, I squirmed underneath his mouth, desperately wanting to add more friction. Kiri noticed my slutty movements and began to move his tongue even faster.

“Ah. . . just like that, don’t stop,” my fingers gathered my bosoms and gave them a firm squeeze. The walls of my slick cave began to clench and release themselves at a faster pace. Tingles rose up my body, swirling against my lower abdomen, almost numbing my lower half entirely. Then, a searing sensation ripped through me, causing my hips to raise from the bed and my knees to shake. A low scream left my mouth as I felt the throbbing of my bud increase tremendously.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” My hips fell on the bed again and my legs shook violently. Kirishima steadied them as much as he could before a whole another wave hit my body and my entire being went still.

“Ah! Eijiro!” I screamed as the pleasure shot through my body for the last time. Pants left my throat and short spurts, just as sweat dripped from my forehead. I looked down at Kirishima, who had just pulled away from my spasming cunny. He had a look of astonishment on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked down at my wrecked body, taking in the shaking limbs, the thin layer of sweat upon it, and the scrunched-up dress at the waist.

“You sounded so hot screaming my name,” he finally said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever made it sound so good as you.”

“Well, grab a condom and I’ll scream your name for the rest of the night,” I replied with a smirk. “If you can last that long.”

“Oh, baby,” Kiri’s smile widened. “You have no idea.”

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms from the top drawer. He ripped one off the sleeve and walked back over to me. I pulled the scrunched-up dress over my head and tossed it to the side. I looked over at Kiri and he’d already stripped himself of his T-shirt. He was currently unbuckling his belt with the condom packet in his mouth. His massive bulge immediately caught my eye and I moaned in anticipation. Kirishima rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls latex down his throbbing shaft. My walls clench at the delicious sight and I could feel my nipple begin to stiffen

“If you’re still tired, we can wait a little—” Kirishima begins to say before I cut him off.

“Eijiro, stop being nice and fuck me like a slut.”

His lips were on mine within the next heartbeat. His hands roamed every crevice of my body, taking in the soft tissue and stretchmarks lovingly. His throbbing member slowly slid into me with little to no friction. He made sure to thumb my clitoris while inserting himself, just so he wouldn’t hurt me. And I swear, I was seconds away from asking him to marry me. He gently moved his hips backward, and then pushed forward again. Highlighting his first stroke. He looked at the crimson hue on my face and leaned down to kiss me.

“You are so pretty, princess,” Kiri groaned softly, as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. “So, so pretty.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. Our tongues danced together as his member tenderly kissed my sensitive walls with each thrust. Kirishima moaned against my lips, as he took in every part of that union. He hiked up one of my legs and hooked it around his waist while he cradled the back of my neck with the other. He looked into my eyes as he increased the pressure of his strokes and their depth. My mouth hung open, and drool poured from the side of it as he kept up the sickening pace. My eyes began to roll back as throat moans rose from the depth of my body.

“Oh God. . .” I slurred as the pleasure increased within my body.

“Aww look at my pretty baby,” Kiri grunted as he rested his hand on my neck. He pressed his thumb between my lips.

I sucked on the digit and looked into his eyes. He moved his hips faster and my lips separated from around the finger. Pants fell from my lips as I felt his member sensually assault my cervix. After a few minutes, Kirishima suddenly pauses and hikes one of my legs up to his shoulders. He readjusts his body, leaving his hand on my neck and placing his hand on my clit. Kiri began to rock his hips in a powerful, but steady motion. He rubs the throbbing bud in a gentle motion, slowly gathering every ounce of pleasure within my body. The pace of my breathing increased rapidly, as the pool in my stomach began to inflate. Whimpers fell from my lips as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“I’m so close. . .” I whispered through tight lips. “Please don’t stop. . .”

“You’re squeezing me so deliciously tight, baby,” Kirishima grunts as a droplet of sweat drops from his brow. “Milking my cock for everything it’s worth. What a greedy little cunny you have.”

“Eijiro. . . I wanna cum so bad,” I whimpered through pants. “Please let me cum, baby.”

Kirishima curses under his breath and releases his hand from my throbbing bud. He places both hands onto my neck, thumbs pressing against my jaw. He eases his body forward and keeps his sickening pace. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my hands around his forearms. I furrow my brows and pant with my mouth open. “You make me feel so good, Eiji. So fucking good!”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” He drops his hands from my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t get to fuck anyone else. . . . .You don’t get to be with anyone else. . . .My name will be the only name you moan for the rest of your life, do you understand?”

I nod. “I understand.”

“You’re mine and no one else's.”

He pulls me into a searing hot kiss. Drinking in all the love and energy throughout my body. I hook my arms around his neck and moan against his lips. Suddenly, I felt an intense rush of adrenaline pass through my body and everything seemed to go silent. A low ringing noise sounded in my ear as my mouth fell open. I dug my arms into his back and clung to his body. Every fiber of my being tensed and my mind went completely blank for several seconds. Then, slowly, my body released itself and collapsed onto the bed. I opened my eyes lazily to see Kirishima’s eyes tightly closed and his hips slightly shaking. Once he finished his ride, his body relaxed and he lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled me into an embrace and pressed another kiss onto my lips.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked into his crimson eyes. “Were you serious about calling me yours?”

“Ugh. . . yes?” He replied hesitantly. Then, he added “If that’s okay with you! I don’t wanna force you—”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I cut him off with a smirk.

“Oh, I was worried for a second.”

“The only thing you should be worried about is your Advanced American History grade.”

“Oh, right. . .”

“You miss another one of my sessions, I’ll ignore you again.”

“Please don’t! I will be present at every session.”

“Good. And you have to be Starbucks.”

“The drink that tastes like the moon?”

“Matcha latte with 2 pumps of chai. Yup.”

“And two chocolate cake pops.”

“Mhm. You know me so well.”

[darling-i-read-it]

Scared?

Jason Voorhees x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: murder, potential murder, fear, being lost in the woods 

Author’s Note: Happy Friday the 13th to my love, Jason 🥰

Summary: You go out looking for Jason and one of his soon to be victims finds you first 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Jason left the cabin for the afternoon at about 5. Just after you had made some dinner for the two of you and ate it. You didn’t mind that much when he left. You liked the alone time. Every once in a while you went down to town to get food and you often came back with a book or two that you found semi interesting.

You rarely went in though so you were stuck rereading one you had already read tonight. You thought about maybe drawing or something to pass the time, maybe even go for a walk and try and catch up to Jason wherever he was. 

It had been a sunny spring day when Jason left but just a few hours later and it was pouring down rain. You looked outside through the small cabin window and made note of the shroud of rain and fog that had formed over the trees. You were able to see pretty far into the woods through the window and you naively tried to find Jason. He was nowhere to be found.

The thunder picked up at around 7. Jason usually came back at around 10 but you thought he might come back sooner now that the weather had turned sour. 

The time ticked by, the clock taunting you with every minute passed. You tried to do other things to keep your mind busy and you knew it was no use in worrying about Jason but you still did, sometimes. 

Someone needed to worry about him, why not it be you.

At 11 you were getting too worried. You grabbed a flashlight and put on a raincoat. You would find him. He would probably scare you, he had a way of being much too quiet, but he would be apologetic afterwards. 

You knew your way around Camp Crystal Lake. Jason had taken you out plenty of times during the day and sometimes you liked to wander around as well. So naturally, you weren’t that worried about being out and about. Jason was the scariest thing in these woods and he wouldn’t hurt you. 

The flashlight beam was decent and showed about 15 feet ahead of you. You moved it around at what you thought was the sound of movement and each time, came up empty. 

That was when you heard the screaming.

It wasn’t unnatural to hear screaming around here but often you weren’t so close to it. In any event, it meant that you were closer to Jason than you thought you were and that pleased you. 

“Jason?!” you called evenly. You hadn’t heard your own voice for a while and was surprised at the lack of volume. You were about to call him again when something bumped into your shoulder. You turned quickly and shined the flashlight in the face of a very worried girl. She was wearing a shirt that was soaked through and her black hair was stuck to her face with dirt and water. She looked like she was about your age. 

“Oh my gosh, do you know where I am?” she asked, tears spilling out of her eyes. You had never actually met any of the campers that came up here before. It had never been something you thought about. Of course, sometimes you asked, but Jason didn’t disclose any details and you didn’t push. 

“I..”

“He’s killing my friends. Please, we have to run and get help.” Her voice was very quiet and shaking now. Before you could say anything else she grabbed your arm and was yanking it with her through the woods. The flashlight slipped out of your hands and you were running in darkness.

=====

“I think there’s a town nearby,” she said quietly, breath heaving as she ran. She was pushing all of the leaves and branches out of the way as quickly as she could and you were still shocked that you were in this position. 

So shocked, when you spoke it was on autopilot.

“There’s a town about five miles down the main road but there’s a family cabin a mile up it.” You knew the people who lived there. They were nice and sometimes you would go up for dinner when you got too bored. 

You cursed yourself for saying that though. You didn’t want to go to the family cabin. If Jason found you up there he would kill her and then have to kill the family and you liked them. 

“But the town may be safer. They aren’t up there all the time,” you quickly corrected. The girl stopped and turned to you.

“Did you come up here alone?”

Should you lie? Tell her the real story? It won’t save her from being killed if you do. You looked up at the sky and your face scrunched up as it got covered in rain. 

“Yeah I did. I was looking to take some pictures of the old lake,” you said. She cursed under her breath. 

“Does anyone know you’re up here?” 

“I don’t-”

“Have you seen him? The man?” The fear was back in her voice and you weren’t sure what to say. 

“No.” 

“He's terrifying. Huge, had this big machete. We don’t wanna see him again, we have to get out of here. Where’s this town you were talking about? You said it was five miles down the road?” She shivered from the cold.

“Yeah but I doubt we’ll make it in this weather. The roads are rocky-”

“We’ll run. Anything to get away from this maniac.” You swallowed and were deeply regretting leaving the cabin.

“Uh yeah,” you muttered. 

====

As you ran, you were trying to find out where in the woods you were. The regular nature markings were lost in the dark, rain filled night. You had left the cabin lights on just in case Jason returned before you did, but everywhere you turned there were just more trees and nothingness.

You would find your way back eventually but you were starting to get very nervous. What if Jason didn’t find you? What if you couldn’t find the road? What if you couldn’t find anything but trees? 

What time was it? How long had you been running? Had Jason given up on this girl and gone back to the cabin, only to find you gone? You would hate for him to think you left him on purpose, or even that you left to town while he was away.

Worry swarmed your head and still, you followed this girl who had likely been to this camp one time in her life and had no idea where she was taking you. After far too long, you stopped letting you drag her along.

“I don’t think this is the right way,” you muttered. She turned to you.

“Who fucking cares? Anyway will lead us out eventually won’t it?” 

“If it’s been this long and we haven’t hit cabins, road, or water, we are going the only wrong way.” She looked around, taking a moment to catch her breath. 

“Maybe we should climb a tree or something and wait for sunlight.” 

That was when you heard it. Very subtle and in the distant. She clearly hadn’t been listening, her breath still heaving. Yours wasn’t any different but you had been trying to hear the subtle movement of anything. You just hoped to goodness that it wasn’t an animal. 

“You think he can’t climb trees?” you asked, trying to bide your time. You tried to keep your voice loud. 

“Oh I don’t know! Maybe he doesn’t look up! He was wearing this mask and-” 

Jason grabbed your arm and turned you around, machete raised. He had started to swing it when he realized it was you and just barely was able to stop. The blade was inches from going through your skull. He had to stop completely to recognize his mistake and quickly he let you go. 

The girl had started to run. 

“Go,” you muttered. He shook his head. “I’ll wait right here. Come back for me.” He looked to her and then back to you and in long strides he left. You could see him for a while before he went out of sight and then you were alone and regretting your choice to let him leave. 

You considered yourself a strong and independent person but alone in the dark woods would make any person feel a little scared. You sat down on a rock and waited. You wanted to take a shower and go to sleep. You should have just waited for him to get back.

====

You heard Jason come back about 20 minutes later. You stood up quickly at the sound of him, eager to return to the cabin. 

“She dead?” you asked as he approached. He raised his blood stained machete in answer. You nodded. “I wanna go back to the cabin.” He nodded slowly and then started to walk. You followed closely beside him. 

He gave you a quick sign. You were still picking it up together so the words were jumbled and very quick but you were able to make it out. 

Why leave? He asked. 

“You were gone past 10 and I was getting worried.” He huffed through his nose. “Hey, I’m allowed to be worried about you,” you muttered. “I wish I hadn’t though. I’ve been running for miles. How far away are we, do you know?” 

4. He answered. You groaned.

“Four miles back?! Jesus, I didn’t think that I had gone that far,” you complained. He shrugged and you thought about asking him to carry you but pushed the thought aside. You had gotten yourself into this mess and you would walk back as punishment. 

=====

The walk back was painful but the cabin seemed all the more welcoming when you returned. The shower felt like heaven and your warm bed felt even better. Jason continued to huff at you in annoyance that you had left but you made him shower too and he clearly enjoyed the extra attention. 

You sat on your bed, watching the window again. You couldn’t believe how far you had gotten from the cabin. 

Jason got on the bed slowly, tired from the night. He set his mask carefully on the night stand beside the lamp. You turned to him and leaned against the wall with the window.

“Thank you for finding me. I don’t know what I would have done if I was stuck out there any longer,” you said carefully. He turned to you, putting his feet up on the bed. He thought for a moment. 

Don’t go. You nodded.

“I won’t. I didn’t even mean to this time. She found me after like five minutes of walking and then I was running.” Something else was nagging at him. You waited patiently. 

You scared? 

“Of the woods? No-” He started signing again before you could finish.

Me. You raised your eyebrows and quickly shook your head.

“No. No not at all. Why would you think I was scared of you?” He thought hard and couldn’t come up with a way to word it so he grabbed his machete by the side of the bed and raised it above your head. You understood what he was trying to say. He was worried you would be scared of him after he almost killed you earlier. “It was an accident. It was dark and I wasn’t wearing anything noticeable and I was facing away from you,” you assured him. He put the machete back against the nightstand. “I’m not scared of you. I haven’t been scared of you for months.” 

He was very content with that answer. He gestured to the blankets and you moved so you were laying beside him. He put the blankets over the two of you very carefully. His breathing was loud. You faced him and kissed the top of his head, smiling a bit. 

“Lesson learned. I will not go out at night when it’s raining and you’re busy.” 

He nodded and closed his eyes to sleep.

You did as well, going unconscious to the sound of rain and thunder.

[doyouremem8erme]

I would love to see a directors cut of the vivisectanne au, it's my favorite fic series of yours (I am very mentally ill)

WOOO this may get longish im just gonna rant abt all sorts of stuff i did in there. under the cut for length and discussion of. the topics of this au! so cw for mentions of vivisection, torture, self harm, and suicidal thoughts, and passages from the fics that may contain descriptions of those. even if youre tagged you dont have to read through all of this. its heavy.

so first off the first chapter was originally all i wanted to write! i heard darcy's line at the end of tbote and i was like. woah i can do something cool with that. however i just.... kept writing. this means each installment is much more cohesive than my usual multichapters i'd published before, since i try to write them all at once before posting!

so it all started with good old vivisectianne. i wanted a bit of a callback to tc&tk with some of the first scenes:

this place, right here, where it took apart marcy's phone, is where it then takes apart anne! why did i say that so cheerfully–

ok heres an actual funny fact

this exchange originally consisted of something like this:

"...you may call us darcy."

"that's cringe."

"YOURE CRINGE!" (immediately stabs anne)

i didnt even rewrite it until i'd finished the entire fic and was rereading it for editing! it just. no longer fit the overall tone whatsoever.

ok chapter 2 comments:

dont have a lot of comments here. basically, when i decided on the length/format i wanted the fic to be (4 chapters each), i chose to have each of the first three chapters be from a different point of view, with the last being sort of a "finale." so here we switch to sasha pov!

And once she does, the robot can do nothing to prevent her from sending a punch into its eye that leaves it sparking on the ground, and Sasha wipes the blood the shattered glass has left on her fist away on her bottom hem of her tunic, and runs through the door.

^ decided to try my hand at foreshadowing stuff for once lmao, since very soon sasha will lose her eye to darcy. the actual eye loss happens offscreen between chapter 2 and 3 but this clues a careful reader in on what may be to come.

this fic was written shortly after the all in promo, so the fight between darcy and sasha is inspired by the theories revolving around that!

when sasha mentions that "olivia told [her] what it did to [marcy]," this is bc i wanted to make sure that sasha knew the basics of what had actually happened to marcy. since they were imprisoned together for a brief time during the events of the first chapter while anne was having a bad time, olivia did a bit more explanation than whatever the heck her warnings in tbote were.

ohohoho time to talk abt one of my favorite chapters... chapter 3 of icduysg!!!

people who have caught on to the pov switching would likely guess that this chapter was marcy pov. however i wanted to write the opening scene to be ambiguous for anyone else, so that the reveal sort of . comes slowly.

She wakes up on the floor of the basement with a stabbing pain in her heart. Or what’s left of it, after everything. She can’t see, she can’t—she scrabbles at her head, fingers glancing off glossy metal, and throws the object covering her face to the ground with a clank. Her hands are covered in blood. There’s a flame-edged scythe on the floor beside her, and Frog she hates that fiery blade because it’s too familiar to one she knows all too well.

the first lines could be a giveaway, but everything that comes afterward makes it more and more clear whose pov this is supposed to be.

“Please, Marcy! I—I forgive you. For everything.” And yet her words hit her like a sword to the back. And she remembers. Fire and pain and blood and dying and waking up and almost safe and claws on her scalp that tear into skin and cold metal restraints and the helmet’s slow descent and pain and screaming and screaming and screaming and orange and lightning and loneliness and darkness and the Core and—

of course i had to take the cheesy way. why not? "i forgive you for everything" / "thank you for everything" stab ME in the chest when i hear them too! rlly loved using the simile there bc it has greater meaning with marcy yknow. the way the return of memories is written in this fic, as seen also in the next chapter, is inspired by some of  nosferatank's incredible prose!

a close reader will notice that something is wrong with marcy as soon as she can't move her arms to hug sasha: she's losing control again throughout this scene. and then, though it isn't explicitly stated, sasha sees something wrong with marcy's eyes. it's marcy pov, she wouldnt be able to look in her own eyes and know that they're orange. the reason marcy remains lucid throughout it regaining control here is that the helmet is gone: i believe this is discussed in the sequel, i'll go through that when i get to it in here lol.

The invasion goes smoothly, she’s told the next time she wakes up. She doesn’t ask how it went, only knows that the castle is back in Amphibia, and that Darcy has pulled her from the tank at last, and that her world has been thoroughly conquered. It’s been about a month since they tried to rescue Marcy, apparently. A month since it took Anne apart to see how her powers worked, callous to her screams of agony.

we start out the finale chapter with a timeskip and another ambiguous pov. it's anne this time, at least at the beginning of the chapter.

and we get the next example of that style of implementing rushing memories:

Pain and screaming and blood hot on lips and pleading-desperate for this to end and flaming heat and obsidian-sharp agony and—

the basment scene with marcy waiting for anne and sasha to go through with their plan is one of my favorites. had a lot of fun with the usage of light:

Light does return, in the form of a streak of yellow light painted against the black.

andrias extends his sword in the darkness of the basement. marcy, of course, is terrified.

this fic by @skibs-scribbles is an influence throughout the last section of the finale of this fic and the tone of the entire sequel! one of my faves.

last note on this fic:

But on the nights when they get to be together, even for a few hours, they sleep in each other's arms, and let the nightmares and tears and phantom screams run through. And then they stare out at the smog-blotted stars over a world that once seemed so bright, like the kids they were before this world broke them.

this is just one of my favorite lines from the fic, im super proud of it. suits being the last line of the fic.

on to sdlgwyd!

as a marcangst lover, i chose to make this entire fic be from marcy's point of view, as she seemed the most interesting character to follow in the au. her guilt, even more intense here than in canon, seemed like an interesting place to pull from, not to mention that she's my favorite character.

a lot of this fic ends up being an allegory for self-harm, given that not only are there themes of it throughout, but the core's methods of torture very much resemble common forms of self harm.

most of the first chapter is just intended to set up the rest of the fic. this means it's establishing how the core and marcy function, the situation anne and sasha are in, etc.

one thing i think it's funny to point out, given that i wrote this before all in:

Sasha jokes, once, early on, when they still think that this may be a temporary arrangement to buy them enough time for an escape, that they now match: the deep, slicing burn on her own chest; the gnarled line of scar tissue mirrored on Marcy’s front and back[.]

look how close i got to manifesting canon! if sasha had been facing away from darcy during that scene in the last fic i wouldve straight up predicted that wild bit in all in lmao.

She deserves it. The Core agrees. And she’s not sure which of them started that line of thought anymore.

this line was surprisingly hard to word right, but i liked what i ended up with. this becomes important throughout the fic: does marcy actually think she deserves this pain, is the core only telling her that, or is it true?

when marcy goes to visit olivia and yunan in the dungeons, we get this line:

She stops in front of where it should be. The cell is drowned in thick shadows, draped over the stone like swaths of gauzy black cloth. 

the "swaths of gauzy black cloth" simile is very much intended to give a sort of funeral, mourning, etc. vibe. it seemed fitting, giving how they've likely been crying over marcy all this time.

She pauses for a glance down at the carbon-fiber bracers she knows are in place around her forearms, covering from palm to elbow in dark, dull-metallic, charcoal-gray, covering the scars that lie there. They can assume it’s only using the chair, the very place where they saw such horrible things happen to her, once again, for all she cares. They don’t need to know what happens when it picks up a glinting blade, the same one it’s used to make the changes it deems necessary for her body so long as it’s shared with a computed mind. 

this is one of the most prominent examples of the overarching allegorical theme of this fic. marcy hides the damage the core has done to her using her own hands. for whatever reason, she doesnt want them to know how it's actually been hurting her.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Is that all she can say anymore? Only those words that dribbled from her lips along with a shower of blood the night she was so violently killed, left to bleed to death with a smoking wound? Will she ever find another way to justify the fact that she’s still alive, ask for forgiveness for her existence, the pain she’s caused?

wanna point out this passage not just bc im absolutely obsessed with how i wrote it but bc. marcy girl. you need help. her mental state is in shambles bc of the suffering the core has caused.

when marcy gets back to the trio's chambers, she overhears anne and sasha discussing plans to escape. the core is not happy about this.

not only is this a pretty deep look into marcy's thoughts, theres another reference to a separate fic! during the "escape lies..." passage, there's this section:

Escape awaits off the edge of the protruding form of that ancient weapon from the top of the highest level of this castle, jutting into the void, high enough, even with the castle resting on the ground. High enough, though she won’t test it, she tells herself (the Core wouldn’t let her die anyway, she knows. It would stop her, or catch her, or do whatever it takes to repair her, bring her to life again, no matter how broken she becomes).

this is a bit of a shoutout to a plot point in beauty and the beasts by @your-local-hurt-comfort-junkie-1, another fic i adore. i wont spoil the exact thing, but if youve read that fic, you likely know what i mean.

another shoutout in this scene is "'We can’t leave.' Her words are not entirely her own." this is of course a reference to awakening by oh geeez: "lately my head's on fire and my voice is not my own..."

the next chapter contains yet another fic shoutout:

this passage is a reference to this evil thing that @maldito-arbol did in the wjh series lmao.

and then of course, inevitably:

And that subconscious wish has been granted. It’s her skin filled with gashes once again, worse than it’s ever drawn them before, her own blood splattering her face as the Core digs deeper and deeper.

...she gets that wish granted.

Not even Olivia and Yunan can help anymore, their words falling upon dulled ears and their touch upon numb skin, like she’ll never perceive the world as brightly as she once did ever again.

core bestie. you need to stop. your host is gonna break if you kepe this up.

the finale chapter of this fic is fun!

we start out with a confusing dive into a scene without context, set up to match marcy's confusion here. eventually, you can figure out what happened: marcy was knocked out by sasha and anne so that they could deal with the core.

after they succeed in their plan, they head off to kill andrias.

“I wanna kill him.” Her voice has a coldness Anne’s never heard from her. And it trembles, because she knows there was a time Andrias truly cared for her. But he’s gone too long letting the Core torment her, pretending he’s blind to the torture.

guess how much i listened to hayloft ii while writing this chapter lol. yeah it was a lot. the emphasis on "her" is of course to clarify that the core has used her voice to speak like this to anne: that's what it did back in the first chapter of icduysg.

By now, Marcy has recovered from the removal of the Core’s data enough to stand, albeit shakily, and most likely soon won’t be able to at all, after the exoskeleton finally gives out when the background functions programmed into her brain stop running.

marcy doesnt have time to confront this right now, but itll come up in the third installment! without the core powering her exoskeleton, she won't be able to walk on her own before long.

a couple scenes in this chapter are inspired by pieces of art i couldnt stop thinking about. here's the first one:

It feels heavy in her hands. She’s never held this before, only a smaller version, crafted for the Core to use in her own grasp. This is the weapon that killed her. This is the weapon that will kill her murderer. 

and the art:

the dialogue in this scene is somewhat inspired by anne's speech in all in: this was written after the finale episodes aired. meanwhile, i tried to emphasize marcy's frazzled mental state through her own dialogue. for example:

she's just not doing so well rn. havent watched arcane since last year but the vibes of this might have jinx killing silco energy??

and then andrias's actual death scene is very likely an obvious reference:

yep, direct shout-out to true colors. marcy's "you brought this upon yourself" is meant to parallel "now look what you've made me do," while "i'm truly sorry for what i did to you" lines up with "i'm sorry for everything."

anne and sasha assisting in holding the sword while marcy stabs andrias is inspired by the other art i mentioned:

and finally the fic ends on a hopeful note that's been missing since the very beginning. i really wanted this to have the same sort of distinctly soft and gentle ending seen often at the end of some epic story, when things return to a status quo. similar tone to the end of adventure time, before the island song montage, or something. a sense of saying goodbye. there's an important detail mentioned in the last section of this fic, but i wont point it out bc it spoils some of the vaugely planned plot points for the next fic in the series!

hope you enjoyed this very deep dive in to the au, this took so long to write lmao.

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter nineteen: when it's too late

previous < masterpost > next

YN'S POV

ATSUMU'S POV

TWO DAYS LATER...

[THE FOUR IDIOTS’ APARTMENT, 6:55PM]

Kiyoomi only watched as your eyes became melancholier, as if it were not already in the first place, the longer you stared at the screen of his phone. Probably rereading his conversation with Atsumu, he thinks. Initially, he wasn’t really planning on showing it to you but just like any other day, you decided to be the whipped soulmate (or more like an idiot, at least to him) you were, all while saying “Atsumu is important to me, should I really leave this apartment while not making amends with him?” He almost retched, is this girl really fixated on becoming a saint? How could someone be this lenient? He has no idea. And so, he showed you– that even after all this time, the piss-haired boy will remain as he is; that no matter how many years may pass, Miya Atsumu will be Miya Atsumu.

And he was the exact opposite of you: he was self-centered, conceited, prideful, juvenile, and so many more that it would take Kiyoomi more than a day to list all the things he detested from the boy. He can only remember how much he loathed the boy upon their first proper meeting; not that he likes meeting new people anyway. Kiyoomi was no genius but he knew, right at that moment, that Atsumu was far from being the ‘knight-in-shining-armor’ soulmate his dearest sister was so engrossed to have.

Kiyoomi also knew that he was not the best brother in the world; hell, he is way too far from being a good one even. He couldn’t care less if you have an admirer from afar (like that Iwaizumi who seems to be around you all the time these days), nor when you finally get yourself a suitable boyfriend, not even when you finally get wedded to someone. He wasn’t overprotective... or at least that’s what he believed. But he was only human, after all– now that he contemplates about it, he realizes that he isn’t really fond of seeing you cry.

“Stop hurting yourself over and over again, you fool of a sister,” he said, clicking his tongue afterwards and grabbing your bags after hearing your father call from downstairs, “Know your worth a little, will you? It’s kind of painful for me to watch you get hurt too, you know. It’s not just mom and dad.”

And with that, he left the room, leaving you to tend to your other belongings and perhaps, say goodbye to this little house that managed to etch itself to your heart. Compared to your childhood home, it wasn’t enough to make you sob your heart out dry. But for some reason, tears still found its way on the corner of your eyes as you remembered the fond memories you’ve made here with your boys – the moment you stumbled upon this house when you four were trying to find a place to stay, the smile on your face when you decided that this was the one (cue Atsumu literally hauling you three towards the agent to settle the down payment), the moving day when Kiyoomi and Osamu brawled for the first time in their lives because they both wanted that bedroom that was the only one downstairs, “to be away from the idiot disease” as what they said. You can only wonder if you could make new memories as happy as those in your future home.

“Ah… you really are a fool of a sister, YN,” you whispered to yourself, wiping the tears away and getting the last of your things before proceeding downstairs, finding your father standing by the front door, arms crossed with a face mask adorning his face (you never really questioned where your brother got his traits, it was as clear as the day), “Kiyoomi is already in the car but I think you should bid Osamu-kun a proper farewell first. He’s in the kitchen. We’ll be waiting so just take your time.”

You nodded before proceeding to the said area, finding the gray-haired with his arms already wide open. Your lips quivered before jumping at him, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“We’ll still be seeing each other at school, you damn gorilla,” he chuckled before burying his face in your neck. You clicked your tongue, pouting at his very much realistic reply, “But it’s different! Eating breakfasts together, going to school together, going home together… and drinking wine until we’re brains out! I’m pretty sure my dad won’t let me do that at his house!”

He cackled, releasing you from his hold and flicking you on your forehead, “what an alcoholic woman! Are you sure you’re going to be a student in a prestige university abroad? You’ll be left behind by your classmates if you keep on prioritizing your wines before your studies.”

“Hah! You’ll see, Osamu. Those red wines will be the reason I even become one of the most famous writers in the world. You better wait and I’ll release an autobiography saying a man named Miya Osamu used to bully me to death,” you huffed, smirking after you saw him stare at you in disbelief. Your smile gradually disappeared upon the realization that the center of your heart was not home… even when I’m already leaving, huh?

Osamu frowned as well, scratching the back of his neck because of the sudden silence that indicated your little recognition, “I’m sorry. I told him to go home before 7 but…”

“It’s fine, Samu. We’re still not in the best terms so it’s probably better this way – a more peaceful way of farewell, you know? No fighting or anything else. Besides, I couldn’t tell him anything about my moving, scholarship, and so many things,” The lad didn’t miss the way you quickly wiped your tears away though. Damn you, Atsumu, why are you always making her cry, he thought.

“I’ll see you at school then, Samu. I’ll miss the dinners you cook,” you smiled, walking quietly outside, and shutting the front door. At the same time, a chime resonated from your phone that was in your pocket. Opening it, you released a long sigh… of relief? of anxiety? You didn’t know.

[Haji, 7:15PM]: I did it, YN. My thread, it’s… black.

You looked up at the night sky, finding stars twinkling as if they were gazing back at you.

Should I start moving on too, Haji?

[TOKYO UNIVERSITY GYMNASIUM, 7:20PM]

For the umpteenth time this week, Atsumu heaved yet another deep sigh, hands weaving itself with his hair to ruffle it out of frustration. Today, he couldn’t care less about the girls lurking around the university gym… because for the umpteenth time this week as well, his twin brother expressed his disappointment towards the boy, leaving him in the said place with the same words he had uttered yesterday and even the day before that, accompanied by a threat this time: “You’re such an immature asshole I wouldn’t be surprised if YN finally gives up on being your friend. You better come home before 7PM or else, I will drag you by your feet with my own two hands.”

Clicking his tongue, he grabbed another ball, gripping it so hard his nails almost left a dent on it. 7PM? He only scoffs. No, he won’t go home yet. He doesn’t care if Osamu gets furious at him and drags him nor if you give up on your friendship; all he thinks right now is that he wants to spike this ball straight onto the other side of the court, make it burst if it was even possible. It wasn’t his fault he got mad at you, he’s entitled to his feelings; he’s right, Kiyoomi’s mistaken… you shouldn’t have promised something you would just break in a span of less than thirty seconds. You shouldn’t hav–

But is it really her fault though? A voice in his head refuted him, or is it just because you’re really an immature asshole who can’t be happy for her?

Of course, it’s her fault, he argues. Immature? Him? He’s almost twenty-two, for god’s sake! He has been living in this world for more than two decades, how could Osamu call him underdeveloped? He swears he’s going to give his twin brother a good punch or two once he gets home.

… But she’s just trying to reach for her dreams, why are you not supporting her? She always does that when it comes to you, doesn’t she? Or have you already forgotten?

And at that, everything went perfectly still. The sound of the ball falling from his hands resonated throughout the quiet gym. Even with just hearing words from something or someone he can’t even identify, Atsumu felt as if he was hit on his head with a ton of bricks.

“E-eh…? W-why… why am I crying?” He whispered, fingers going up to touch his cheeks and furrowing his eyebrows when he felt the dampness of the said area.

Because you know you don’t deserve her. You know that it’s your fault. It has ALWAYS been your fault.

“Shut up,” he said to no one, plopping down the floor while he clutched his ears this time to shut the voice out. As it kept talking, he tried hitting his head with his hand, tried talking over it, tried retorting savage remarks back; however, everything was futile for it kept talking, kept torturing his mind with nothing but the truth.

You hurt her, then apologize, then do it again. What are you playing, a tug-of-war? How selfish of you, Miya Atsumu! Are you really her best friend?

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!” He screamed, his throat feeling as if it was getting scratched from the rawness of his voice. There was no way he was gonna have a voice tomorrow.

You’re so aggravated whenever you think about losing YN, are you sure you’re not in love with her or something? Yanno… have you never thought about the fact that maybe she’s your sou–

“Atsumu-kun! Wake up!” A voice yelled while grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him awake, finally bringing him out of his… dream? Was that even considered a dream? Because Atsumu was sure as hell that what happened was just plain torture to him.

“Are you okay, Atsumu-kun? You were having a nightmare,” turning to the girl who kept her hold on him, he finds Yui, who was looking back at him as if he lost the screws in his head. He starts to believe that he, in fact, did after all that weirdness. After all, who in the world would randomly just fall asleep in the middle of an empty gym then proceed to have a nightmare while on it. Surely, there would be no one except for him. How in the world did it happen anyway? As far as he could remember, he was just practicing his serves and tosses a while ago.

“Yui, why are you still here? It’s getting late,” he asks the girl whose eyes just lit up, for some reason, at his question before lifting her hand up and showing… what? She continued to smile though and waved the same hand right in front of Atsumu’s face, much to his slight annoyance. He wasn’t really in the best mood to play guessing games right now, so he only sighs exasperatedly, “Just get to the point, Yui-chan. I’m feeling the exhaustion now.”

“I told you before that I could see my thread, right? Well, it turned black! Me and my soulmate met up a while ago and turns out, he was a Moira, so we performed the mini ritual, which is so weird by the way, before cutting it. He said one of us has to ‘affirm’ their desire to cut the thread, so I did! As far as I know, based on my previous researches about soulmates, it doesn’t really matter because the ‘gods’ know the deepest desires of our hearts but you know, I don’t really care because I’m free!” She exclaimed, squealing afterwards, and flinging her arms around Atsumu’s neck to give him a hug. But the boy stayed still and gaped because how can someone afford to be happy at this situation? His arms remained motionless at his sides, confusing him; wasn’t he just itching to have this weeks ago? In fact, he was just dreaming about it about three days ago. So why? Why couldn’t he bring himself to hug her back?

“Your soulmate cut it. How can you be happy, Yui-chan….?” Before he knew it, his mouth spoke for him faster than his brain could process. He removed himself from the girl’s embrace, watching as confusion begin to form on her face; though it only took her milliseconds before an odd smile showed up on her face once more.

“Because that means I could finally date you without feeling guilty for my soulmate, silly!”

Atsumu felt like a hundred years had passed in just a single night and yet again, he sighed. If anyone sees him right now, they will probably laugh at his rather pathetic-looking state. Never in his life has he felt this exhausted, not even when Kita Shinsuke would force him to do an unreasonable number of receives and then make him clean the whole gym with the said captain; no, not even that could beat this fatigue and strangely, it makes him miss the captain.

Maybe he should’ve just gone home before 7PM, like Osamu said. He then shudders as he remembers that he still has to face his twin’s wrath.

“Can’t I just go back to being a toddler… like the brats that have no problem in the world?” He whines to himself quietly, relief spreading throughout his whole body as he sees your shared apartment; can already smell the meal Osamu cooked for you four; can visualize the disgusted look your brother will give him once he enters the house, all sweaty and gross-looking. Though, he thinks it’s odd that upon looking at the window of your room and Kiyoomi’s, he finds that they weren’t lit up unlike the usual. Maybe they’re already asleep, he shrugs given that you both love getting your beauty rest as much as you can. Twins, you are.

As careful as possible, he opens the front door, wincing when it makes a sound that would possibly wake up the very sensitive ears of Sakusa Kiyoomi from his room downstairs.

“Don’t bother trying to be quiet, Atsumu. You’re not going to wake anyone up in this house,” The voice of Osamu startles him. Fastly recovering from the mini-scare, he turns to his twin to glare while clutching his chest in hopes to calm his heart down, only to stop when he finds his brother glowering at him with a much worse scowl on his face.

“Samu, I’m sorry. I just got caught up with som–”

“You know, Tsumu, it’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? You always come around when it’s already too late,” Osamu speaks, trying to find the right words to say, “YN and Kiyoomi… they left and went back to their parents’ home. They will be staying there until YN and her mom leaves for abroad which would be in less than a month, right after this semester ends.”

Miya Atsumu was self-centered, conceited, prideful, juvenile, and so many more that it would take Kiyoomi more than a day to list all the things he detested from the boy. He didn’t care if you gave up and break off your friendship with him… at least that’s what he believed. But like Sakusa Kiyoomi, he was also human – and at that moment, as his brother stares at him and waits for a reply, he only stays still. Why is it that instead of the volleyball he was holding at the gym moments ago, it’s his heart that’s about to burst?

⤷ notes. we didn't have internet connection for a whole day and phew.. this was the result of me being bored out of my wits, i guess? and i apologize in advance for the pain that i keep on giving and WILL keep on giving :>

[utapriyanderes]

Here’s the revised version:

Can you do a Yandere!HEAVENS (Eichii, Kira, Van and Yamato) when their s/o knocks them out in an act of self-defense when they're about to take things a bit too far (e.g. smashes a vase on their head). Thinking she's killed them, it causes her to flee in fright. Once she is gone, they get up and I let you decide what happens afterwards

Thank you so much for the ask and resending it in! I hope you enjoy it~!

(Edit: I wrote this then reread the ask, so this isn't necessarily out of self defense and just something they decided to try to get out of their captivity, but I still hope you enjoy it either way and if you would like it to be self defense then I can try again and you can just resend it. Though I hope you still enjoy it!)

Eiichi Otori:

    I ran out of the house as fast as I could. I quickly go into the garage and check to see which car this key works for before finding the right one. I'm quick to go into it and drive off, far away from this place. I don't take a single look back, taking in a long deep breath of air accepting my new found freedom.

    Part of me can't believe I actually did it! All it took was a swift hit in the back of the head with the alarm clock and then he instantly went down. I can't help but to laugh to myself at the whole ordeal. Why haven't I tried that sooner? Though it doesn't matter now since he can't take me back. He's dead after all.

    With that thought I drive. I drive as far away as I can until I need gas in the car. Thankfully I took his wallet with me so I can fill up the car and keep going. When the tank is full I go inside and pay the cashier the proper amount. I leave the store and start to walk back, but someone grabs me. They put a hand over my mouth and pull me into a dark corner where no lights are.

    "Did you really think it could be that easy Angel?" I can't help but to tense at that voice.

    "How about we go back home and talk this out?" I hear his voice right beside my ear. I start to kick and scream, anything to be noticed so I don't have to go back with him. Though no one is getting gas this late at night, and the cashier most likely can't hear me. So I'm stuck being dragged by him, being placed into the same car I drove away with. He puts me in the backseat and buckles me in. He then handcuffs my wrists to the top of the front passenger seat so I can't unbuckle myself.

    He then moves to the driver's seat and starts the car. He glances back at me with a smile on his face.

    "How about we go for a drive first? I should let you experience this one last time before I truly put you in a cage Angel."

Kira Sumeragi:

    I shift my eyes over from the back of his head to the vase full of flowers right beside me. He made the vase himself and gifted it to me to tell me how much he loves me. Though if he loves me then why would he keep me locked up like this? Which is also why I have to do this. If he loves me then he will understand.

    I grab the vase slowly to not disturb the quietness of the room. I take the flowers and place them back down. Then slowly I move towards him. As soon as I'm close enough I raise the vase as much as I can then smash it over his head. He goes down right then and there.

    I'm quick to then go find the keys and slip on my shoes. I put the front door key in the lock and turn it. Hearing the satisfaction of the door unlocking, I run out into the cool night. I'm so happy with being free that I don't even know where to run to. I just run and feel the fresh chilly breeze go across my cheeks as I run around aimlessly.

    I finally stop once I need to catch my breath. I stop by a lamp post and start to figure out a location to go to. Anywhere where people are should be good. In fact I should probably go to the police station, but I don't want to end up in another jail if I'm blamed for killing my "boyfriend" despite it being self defense. So I think it over. After a moment of thinking I reason that somewhere crowded would be the best option, but now to find somewhere that is crowded this late at night.

    Then, in the darkness of the night I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I look over in the direction I saw it coming from but see nothing. I can feel fear starting to creep up within me and decide that it's best to keep moving. Even though he's not around anymore, it doesn't mean someone else isn't here. So I start running, though I don't go far.

    I'm pulled back into someone and can feel something being placed over my mouth, a cloth with some weird smelling chemicals on it, but chemicals I know all too well.

    "It's... alright… (Y/N)... I'm here… for you… now." Those words in that voice are the only thing I remember hearing before my eyelids droop down and close. Then quickly after, I fall limp into his arms.

Van Kiryuin:

    I slowly back up. I look down at his lifeless body and drop the bat that I used to do it. After looking at him for a good minute I run as fast as I can. As soon as I'm out I grab the bike against "our" place and start pedaling. I pedal until I feel safe enough to finally slow down.

    I take a moment to consider my options before stopping at a diner that still seems to be open. I pedal up and then put the bike in the bicycle rack before entering. I walk past the one other customer in there and head towards a corner table. I quickly pick up the menu to look at what they have to offer. While looking at the food my stomach lets out a loud growl. Disrupting the quiet atmosphere.

    Though instead of being embarrassed I just end up ordering my food when the waitress comes by. Then as soon as my food comes, I dig right in. By the time I'm done with my satisfying meal I hear someone else come in. I don't pay much notice to who it is as I get up to go pay. Except all of a sudden, I'm called out to.

    "Hey, (N/N)-chan! I'm so happy to see that you're safe n' sound!" When I hear his voice it makes me almost want to lurch up all the food I just ate.

    "Don't worry, I'll cover this one." He flashes me a smile and pays for my meal. I use this opportunity to go outside and grab my bike. Yet when I go to pull it out I can't move it. I try to pull at it a few times but find it no use. I take a closer look and see that it's locked in place. Letting out a shaky breath I decide to start running, but before I can, he grabbed my wrist.

    "Van, please…," I start pleading with him. He lets out a soft chuckle, "It's alright (N/N)-chan! Let's go back home and talk this out. There's nothin' a little talkin' can't fix after all."

Yamato Hyuga:

    I run and run as long as it takes me away from him. I pass street lights and buildings knowing with each step I'll be farther away from him and a step closer to safety. Even when my feet need a rest and my lungs are burning for me to stop, I keep going. I might be free now and he may be dead, but it doesn't mean I'm actually safe.

    Though eventually I do stop. I hunch over to catch my breath once I can't take it anymore. A block up ahead I notice an entrance for a nightclub. I decide to go up a little and sneak in with a crowd of people going in. Once inside I'm hit with the loud atmosphere and can smell the booze coming from some people surrounding me. I decide to go hide in a corner of the bar and just observe everything for now and to take a short rest. As soon as I'm feeling better I'll head out once again.

    I look around the venue but mostly stay focused on the front after finding a back exit door if needed. I also wave off the bartender knowing that I'll need to stay focused. I end up thanking myself for it a minute later when I see him walking in. My heart can't help but to drop. Yet quietly I get off my stool and start to make my way onto the dance floor in hopes the crowd and flashing lights will cover me.

    I then start to make my way towards the back exit but in the middle of making my way there I feel someone grab my arm. My heart picks up speed as I turn around. Orange eyes are staring back at me. He gives me a smirk before looking up to notice the door that I was going towards. He then pushes me along as gently as he can until we are out of the club.

    As soon as we are out I try to yank myself free from him, "L-Let go of me!" I shout at him also in hopes someone might hear. He's quick to cover my mouth with one of his hands.

    "Did you really think a pot was going to do me in? It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me." Yamato looks at me challengingly. I glare back into his orange orbs trying to spread to him my distaste.

    "Heh, I'll forgive you this once. If ya don't make a sound as I bring ya back home." I don't want to give in. I want my freedom. Yet I know that if I don't give in then I'll have even less freedom than he already gives me at home. I refuse to be kept in a cage that small, so I give him a nod, making him remove his hand. He then moves his other hand from my upper arm to my hand.

    "Let's get going then." We start to walk hand in hand back home. To anyone who passes us by they probably see a couple taking a midnight stroll together… but if only they knew what this relationship really was.

[cgogs]

I’ve been meaning to leave a nice message in your ask box for a week or two now, ever since I found your writing, but I never have the words to express just how much I absolutely adore your writing. I’m literally just. staring blankly ahead trying my best to make my brain articulate words but goddamn do your fics leave me completely speechless.

I found Oxeye Daisy while searching the c!dnf tag on tumblr in a desperate attempt to feed my brain. I’m a multishipper at heart but sometimes DNF rents out any and all available space in my mind and refuses to leave. Then I saw it, your post. Announcing that the first chapter was up. I followed you, we’re mutuals even, how had I missed it?

I open it. Its only chapter has more than 10k words. It’s c!dnf. I can’t believe it, I hit the jackpot. The first scene has me instantly hooked and I don’t stop reading until I finish the entire thing. I could See the first scene so clearly. it’s so clear that it’s blurry, because I even imagined the rain. Dream and George’s dynamic is a breath of fresh air, it’s exactly what I want to read. It’s messy, it’s complicated, even unhealthy sometimes. They can’t communicate for shit yet they both try, and don’t try, because they love each other.

They make me lose my mind. Like vibrate out of my skin while reading lose my mind. Like the first thing I did after finishing the chapter was run to @dreamslesbian's DMs and scream continuously for an hour lose my mind. And God don’t even get me started on that scene in the mineshaft. Plus the flashback? Them kissing for air? THEM KISSING FOR AIR. OH MY FUCKING GOD I CLAWED AT MY ENCLOSURE, I TELL YOU. The codependency got me so good.

AND THAT’S JUST THE FIRST CHAPTER. YESTERDAY I WOKE UP TO THE UPDATE RIGHT. The first thing I did in the entire day was read it. Like, immediately. I INHALED IT. I LOVED IT OKAY, IT’S EQUALLY AS GOOD AS THE FIRST ONE, IT’S JUST A WONDERFUL CONTINUATION, IT FITS SO WELL. Every time they talk I just @#%&/!=)$?@ GOD. I love how you write them. LIKE GEORGE????? INCREDIBLE SHOW-STOPPING AMAZING WONDERFUL. He’s soooooooooo !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love him. Him wanting Dream to want him, to need him. The entire part where he stops talking out of spite? LOVE IT. When they talk about it afterwards? Dream’s response to everything. ALSO THE FACT THAT DREAM IS ERRATIC IN HIS RESPONSES SOMETIMES??? Like the morning after him and George talk, when George takes the arrow out of his shoulder, how he’s acting completely different, closed off, with the mask on??? MY GOD. LIKE YEEESSS IT’S THAT SWEET SWEET TRAUMA LET’S GOOO. AND THE FACT THAT THEY ARE BOTH TOUCH-STARVED AS HELL BUT THINGS ARE HARD AND DIFFICULT AND UEUEUEUE

I feel like they managed to communicate a lot more in the second chapter, even if it was still a mess, and I’m honestly scared for the next chapter but in a super excited ‘i hope they suffer emotionally, i hope they cry, I hope I cry, I hope we all cry’ type of way.

OH AND THE FACT THAT DREAM STILL WANTS TO GO ALONG WITH THE PLAN AFTER EVERYTHING? I N C R E D I B L E.

Also I’m not even half finished like I uhhh haven’t even started talking about for queen and country like uh.

I AMM CRYING FFOR REAL THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MMY LIFR this is making my week my month my year like.

I put so much effort into oxeye daisy like blood sweat tears fingernails , i am so fucking glad to have made content people were hungry for like THE PEOPLE NEEDED THIS FIC... THE C!DNFERS.....

I'm going to reread this message one million times. I wish I could frame it. I'm showing all my friends. And my cat.

[weasleysweets]

tolerable , one.

summary ; george weasley is more tolerable than you thought.

word count ; 1319. ( short , i apologize !! )

warnings ; none.

IT WAS NO SECRET that you and george didn’t get along , but the fights weren’t nasty and they werent mean. but it was always him that started it, teasing you about something small. which led to you teasing him back, until it got heated and one of you had to be removed.

to everyone else it seemed like you were in love. but that was hardly the case , the both of you avoided each other like the plague. the both of you thought you hated each other. you found george annoying with all his pranks and he found you a stuck up prefect that would snitch on him, which you never once did.

it was a lost cause.

↴↴

“DO YOU HAVE A DATE TO THE YULE BALL” george blurted as a blush arose on his cheeks. you rolled your eyes gently and scoffed “what’s it matter to you weasley?” “just answer the question y/l/n “ “no i do not.” playing with the hem of his jumper he leaned forward nervously “go to the yule ball with me y/l/n?” his blush darkened and he desperately avoided your gaze.

“why should i?” he frowned softly and his movements slowed as he finally looked you in the eye. “ fred and i made a bet that we could get a date before old ronnikins, and i don’t have one yet but fred’s taking angelina.. well fake everything and then we don’t even have to talk to each other at all afterwards. and i’m not telling fred i asked you because of a bet..” he whispered as a person walked by.

“that’s very perilous george” he scoffed as the words slipped past your lips. “isn’t everything?” rolling your eyes and leaning your head onto your hand you narrowed your eyes judgingly at the ginger who cowered under your gaze. “what’s in it for me weasley? i could always find someone else. i mean the ball is a month away!” you exaggeratedly threw your hands up smiling like a dork. he rolled his eyes chuckling

“i’ll never prank you again.” your eyes widened at his statement. they had never done a horrible prank to you, only small pranks here and there. like making your book scream everytime you opened it or dying your hair pink. “is this a trick?” you spoke softly leaning forward once more. he shook his head quickly. “fine, then yes i’ll do this.” his eyes lit up like a little kids on christmas and a bunch of thank yous flew out of his mouth.

he relaxed against the chair and peered at you softly. “can i see your dress?” you shook your head softly smirking “no, it’s a surprise. but can i see your robes so i can color coordinate my dress?” he nodded softly. “i’ll bring them to the common room tonight at 10 , be there !” he stood smiling and started walking off. “i will.” you spoke softly and he shot you a huge smile , the blush never leaving his cheeks.

the rest of the day went by swimmingly , the weasley twins didn’t bother you and the castle was quiet compared to normal weekends. everyone was at a slytherin x ravenclaw quidditch match. you made your way to the common room, immediately spotting your bestfriend sitting on the couch and reading. “ jamey!” his head shot up at the nickname as he shook his head laughing . “hello to you too y/n/n! what’s got you so happy?” “someone asked me to the yule ball.” you smirked as his shocked expression and laid your legs over his. “who?” “george weasley.”

“i thought you two hated each other?” confusion evident in his voice as he laid the book he was reading down. he crossed his arms softly and leaned back “well you were wrong.” he gasped dramatically slapping a hand on his chest. “i am never wrong mrs.y/n/n!” you narrowed your eyes at him jokingly “is that so? i bet snape would disagree!” he chuckled shaking his head.

“but in all seriousness , is your dress color coordinated with his outfit.” “not yet, but it will be, he’s coming down at 8pm to show them to me. i refuse to let him see my dress. it’s very elegant, i learned a spell from an old book and it has butterfly’s clinging on the abdomen!” he smiled softly rubbing your knuckle “you have to show me later. “ you nodded in reply as everyone started coming back from the quidditch game the common room began to get very loud.

james and you had parted ways , he had started talking to a couple quidditch boys and a second year gained your attention, desperately needing help in potions & athrimacy , you had agreed to tutor them every wednesday after they were done with quidditch practice. he embraced you quickly yelling a thank you and running off to play around with his friends. which left you alone on the loveseat next to the fire.

your hands grasped the book you had been reading just hours ago before a certain ginger interrupted , the front page lightly torn from the many times you had read it. on the front in a fancy label read “ alice in wonderland “ a book you often found yourself rereading a bunch of times , especially when alone at hogwarts.

your mother had given it to you when you first started hogwarts, claiming even thought the castle would be full of life and magical memories, it was nice to escape that reality and go in to another. and she was right. in times you found yourself thinking about george weasley to often, or over thinking your conversations to the point you got a headache, you escaped in this book.

you flipped to the page you were reading and pulled a blanket over your bare legs, finding comfort in the soft yellow pattern. the couch softly dipped and you glanced up to see who had sat, to be met with the sight of george weasley oncemore. “why is it you always bother me while i’m reading?” you shut the book softly and put your attention on him. his eyes widened and he chuckled lightly. “i think that’s the first time you have ever initiated a conversation with me.” he spoke softly but the smile never leaving his face.

“is it really?” you scrunched your nose confused as he chuckled more and nodded. “why did you?” “well weasley, we’re going to have to deal with each other until the yule ball. so i mine as well be nice to you. but the second the yule ball is over with we’re going to act like it never happened.” you spoke with a pointed finger and in a hushed whisper , his smile faltered lightly and your heart hurt the moment the words slipped past your lips. he chuckled oncemore and grabbed the book from your lap. “alice in wonderland?” “my mum gave it to me.” smiling softly he handed it back, “my mum used to read it to me and my siblings when we were little. it really is a good book. “ a blush rose on his cheeks as he grasped your hand to look at all of the rings and bracelets you had on.

“well, weasley. i’ve heard some things about you.” you spoke watching him intently as he played with the rings on your fingers. he blushed glancing up sending a confused glare your way. “i heard about how you and your brother want to open a joke shop?” his eyes lit up and he looked at you smiling “weasley wizard wheezes, it’s going to have so many things.” he blushed embarrassed as you brought your hand back and started playing with his fingers. “that sounds amazing george really. i’ll make sure to stop by once you open up.” he smiled hugely as you said that, hoping that you meant that you two would be seeing more of each other.

OMG IDEA IDEA IDEA

ONCE IM DONE WITH THIS SERIES WOULD ANYONE LIKE TO SEE IT FROM GEORGES PERSPECTIVE??

[aalissy]

Text Messages

Another day done!! And this chapter got away from me just a lilll bitt hehe. I didn’t intend to include a reveal but there’s one nowww haha. Anywho, I hope you like this chapter. However, please do NOT read it unless you’ve seen Gang of Secrets. It definitely has spoilers for that episode!! Also, if you haven’t seen it please go watch it!! It’s my fave s4 episode rn <3

AO3

Marinette groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes as her phone buzzed repeatedly next to her. She had an extremely long day yesterday. Dealing with her duties as Ladybug and trying to keep her friends happy was absolutely exhausting. Shaking her head furiously, she attempted to wake up. 

Rather groggily, she groped around for the phone next to her. With a breath of relief when she finally grabbed it, Marinette opened up her messaging app. Certain that it was just Alya asking how she was after the bomb she had just dropped on her yesterday, she was mid-way through typing a reply to her best friend when she glanced at the contact name. Squeaking in surprise, Marinette dropped her phone on her bed. 

Hesitantly, she picked it back up, checking to see if it really was the same message as before. Surely she must have just been tired and was imagining everything. When she did double-check, though, Adrien’s name continued to blink up at her. With a quiet gulp, she read his message.

Adrien: Hey Marinette! I just wanted to check up on you after the akuma attack yesterday. It seems like you’ve been going through a lot lately and I just wanted to let you know that I’m always here if you need me 😸.

Choking slightly, Marinette skimmed the message again. Adrien had noticed her! Or, at least he noticed how stressed out she had been lately. Her heart gave a fierce tug as a small smile twitched at her lips for the first time in forever. Quickly, she shook her head at herself. No! There was absolutely no time for love or boys or even friends! Yesterday proved that. 

Sniffling quietly, Marinette’s eyes slid over to her new hiding place for the miracle box. Sucking in a deep breath as she once again felt tears brim in her eyes, she quickly finished typing the message she had been going to send to Alya.

Marinette: yep! totally fine! no worries here 😊

Taking the heel of her palm, she fiercely dragged them over her red-rimmed eyes. She had no time for tears either. Who knew when Hawkmoth would be sending the next akuma?

Assuming that would be the end of the conversation, she dropped her phone back onto her bedsheet, hugging her knees to her chest. Slowly, Marinette’s eyes fluttered closed as she tried to calm down. She felt Tikki and some of the other kwamis come around to hug her cheek. A wide smile stretched across her lips as she cuddled them to her delicately. Opening her eyes, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Her phone buzzed once again and she blinked down in confusion at it. Could this be the message she had expected from Alya? With a small frown creasing her brow, she opened the text.

Adrien: You know, I have a friend who acts the exact same way. I don’t think I believe either of you though.

Adrien: It’s alright not to be okay, Marinette. Especially after a day like yesterday and if you don’t want to talk about it, we can always talk about something else? 

Adrien: You need to know that there are people who care about you 😊

A shaky, happy sob escaped her before she could stop it. Her hand wobbled slightly as Marinette covered her mouth. Rereading his text message, her stomach filled with butterflies. This was exactly why she fell in love with him. His unwavering kindness and support made her feel like she was the greatest person on Earth.

“Thank you, Adrien. I really needed that,” she whispered. With trembling fingers, she typed a reply to him. Biting her lip to contain her smile, Marinette fell back onto her bed. 

Marinette: ty adrien and if its alright with you can we maybe not talk about it? how was your weekend

Adrien: I had a pretty good weekend! I got to see a movie and I went to the pool! 

Trying to brush aside the wave of familiarity that hit her upon reading his text, she shifted slightly on her bed. Nibbling her lip, she debated whether or not she should text him her next question. Waving a hand in the air, she decided that she was just being paranoid. After all, there was no way. 

Marinette: that sounds awesome! what movie did you go see?

Adrien: Oh, I went to go see the new romantic comedy that came out! 

A choked gasp escaped Marinette as she read that text. It had to be a coincidence! Maybe he went with Kagami or by himself. Gnawing on her lip, she hesitated before sending her next text. She needed to know...

Marinette: really? it looked pretty cheesy to me but did you guys like it at least?

She held her breath as she awaited his next message. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. This could be the start of everything.

Adrien: Well, honestly, I didn’t get to see much of it haha 😅

Adrien: The girl I went with thought it was cheesy too

Immediately, she dropped the phone, scrambling away from it to suck in a deep breath of air. Letting out a startled scream, her eyes darted to Tikki, pleading with kwami. Nervously, she stuttered, “W-what a-am I supposed to do? I-I d-don’t...”

Trailing off, her kwami gave her a soft, sweet smile. “It’s up to you, Marinette. You’re the guardian now. You make the rules. Just like you did with Alya.”

Her head bobbed up and down before a determined glint shined in her eyes. That’s right! She was the guardian now and she had no plans of taking either her or Adrien’s miraculous away. Besides, having two people she could trust her entire life with was worth any potential fear and anxiety. Picking up her phone, Marinette dialed his number, tapping her fingers against her arm impatiently. 

As soon as Adrien picked up, she spoke quickly, rushing through her words, “The girl you were with when you went to go see the movie, did you guys leave to go swimming right afterward?”

“W-what?” Adrien stuttered and she could practically see his green eyes open wide with shock, “Marinette, what are you talking about?”

With a deep, calming breath, she slowed down. “After you guys left the movie theatre, you went swimming didn’t you?” 

“Well, yeah, I guess we did. But, Marinette, how do you know that?” He spoke with confusion clear in his voice.

She giggled lightly, feeling light and safe for the first time in ages. It was him. It’s been him this whole time. Quietly, Marinette murmured, “Because it was me that you went swimming with, silly kitty.”

“No, I didn’t go with you. I went with...” Adrien trailed off. A slow smile twitched at her lips as she imagined him connecting the dots just like she had. Hesitatingly, he asked, “W-what did you just call me?”

Marinette hummed lightly, a small smirk on her lips. “I said silly kitty. Or am I only supposed to call you that when we’re in costume.”

A thud came from the receiver and she frowned in confusion. After sitting for a few more moments in silence, Marinette murmured, “H-hello?”

No response came from her phone and she nibbled on her bottom lip. Did the wifi fail or did he hang up on her? Pulling the phone away from her ear, she saw that they were still connected. With a quiet sigh, she hung up the call. Just as she was about to call back, a loud, insistent knocking came from the trapdoor above her bed. 

Screaming in shock, Marinette stared up at the hatch in concern. Slowly, she opened it, squeaking once again when Chat Noir fell rather ungracefully onto her bed. Frowning, she muttered, “Chat Noir?”

In a second, she was wrapped up in a tight embrace. Her eyes widened before she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. A bright grin bloomed across her face as she giggled. If she had any doubts before that he wasn’t Adrien, they were absolutely gone now. Suddenly, so much made sense now.

Pulling back slowly, Marinette stared up into his shimmering, green eyes. With a light chuckle, she asked, “Did you really just drop everything to come over?”

“What did you expect me to do?” Chat’s arms waved exasperatedly in the air. “You can’t just drop a bombshell on me like that and then not expect me to want to see you. Did you really have to do it over the phone?”

Marinette threw her head back as she laughed loudly. “Well, you revealed yourself over text! I didn’t want to just drop everything and slam into your bedroom window as Ladybug.”

A bright blush lit up his face before he ducked his head down shyly. Almost silent, he muttered, “You could have done that, you know. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Now it was her turn to flush deeply. A few scattered daydreams of doing just that with a few kisses intermixed filled her thoughts. Shaking her head, she cast those dreams aside and focused on the superhero that was still in her bedroom. Giving him an adoring smile, she playfully pushed his nose back. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have.”

He looked at her so softly and it was so reminiscent of Adrien that Marinette had no idea how she hadn’t figured it out sooner. Carefully, he reached out to take her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “How are you doing with being the Guardian, then? I know how hard your day was yesterday.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes again before she threw herself back into his arms. “Better now that you’re here. It’s been so hard!” she murmured.

He hugged her back tightly, whispering, “I’ll always be here, Marinette.”

“I know, Adrien. I know,” she squeezed him back with a quiet whisper, “Thank you.”

“Always, Marinette. Always.”

She sunk into his embrace, letting her worries melt away for a few minutes. There’d be plenty of time to talk, freak out, and strategize later. Right now, she just needed this.

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

Chronicles of Grief

2392 words, T

Warnings: Discussion of character death, grief/mourning

Minor Russingon, though you can easily read it as friendship only

On Ao3

Russandol,

I do not know why I am writing this if I am not going to send it. I will not risk a messenger for a personal letter. Perhaps I will send it with a bird. Perhaps I will keep it in the hope of handing it to you when I see you. In the hope that I will see you…

You must already know what happened. I should have known it the moment I was told he had ridden away. I must have known, but I did not believe it. It is still hard to believe. I am sitting on his throne, his crown on my head, and I cannot believe it.  

How long did it take you to accept that your father was… gone? You see? I cannot even bring myself to say the word. In the letters I have deemed safe to send I wrote lost, fallen, gone, but I cannot bear to write de

I apologize. I should not have mentioned your father. You did not even have time to mourn him. I have become inconsiderate in my grief. Perhaps I will not show you this letter even if I do see you.

---

We had a small ceremony. It felt empty without the body to bury. Afterwards, Lalwen and I sat with Father’s closest friends and told increasingly gruesome war stories to each other to distract ourselves from pain.

I wish I could go to sleep and wake up a decade later. I know it would not change much (if anything, it would make things worse), but I intensely wish for oblivion.

Forgive me for the grim words. I am trying to find something positive in this (I can see you shaking your head at me). I am trying to tell myself that Father will rest in the Halls, that he might return to Mother. I am trying to tell myself that we are strong enough to survive this, to come out stronger from this, but it does not help, Russandol. It does not help at all.

---

I am king now, it seems. How ludicrous. The blame lies with you, you know? Of course, you do. I am king now, and I cannot lock myself in my chamber and reread your letters over and over again as I long to do.

There are so many things I should take care of, so many new responsibilities. I have been the lord of my own keep, but this is entirely different. I wonder if I can do this. I am not my father. I cannot be my father.

Why did he go and left me alone with this? Why could he not wait? I am… I suppose I can tell you. I am so angry, Russandol. Angry with him for doing it, for not thinking about me. Angry with the Enemy, with the Valar, with your father. Angry with myself.

---

I am going to confess something. I feel relieved that I have not seen the body. I know that the Lord of the Eagles would have taken it to somewhere safe, maybe to my brother, and in my heart, I am grateful that it wasn’t me he chose. I would not want to see him like that, not my father. I want to remember him as I last saw him – strong and full of life. Do you think it makes me a coward? Oh, I know your answer. You are not trustworthy when it comes to my flaws.  

---

I keep waiting. Not for him to return, not for this to be a nightmare, but for an end. An end to what – I cannot say. I would welcome any.

All we have built is falling apart, but I cannot bring myself to care. The world could break this very moment, and I would only shrug. No, worse. I would embrace it. I find myself thinking about it, wanting it. No, not wanting. I am not sure I am capable of wanting anything anymore. I would not mind it if it happened, that is all.

Do you see now? Do you see how unfit I am to bear the crown? If not, I will tell you something more horrifying. I hear about all those deaths. So many Elves and Men. Our cousins, my friends, my close friends. Do you know how it feels? Comforting. I feel comforted that I am not the only one going through this pain. Now, at least, can you see? What kind of a king does that make me? What kind of a person does that make me?

I cannot do this, Russandol. I cannot be a good king. I do not even want to try to be one. You are the only one I can admit this to. Please, do not judge too harshly. No. Judge as harshly as I deserve.

---

It is like living in a house with one wall gone. Gone forever, not to be replaced. You are no longer shielded from the wind and rain. Your home is no longer home.  

---

Sometimes I revisit the memories of the moments before I received the news. They are not good memories, full of uncertainty, pain, blood, and my friends dying one by one in front of my eyes. And yet, they bring comfort because at least my father was still alive then, I still had hope, I still had him to rely on even after such heavy losses.

I would give so much to have him back. It frightens me how much I would give.

---

I should have known disaster was going to strike. I had been so happy lately. We had had peace for long years, the Edain had come to their own, and I was free to wander. And if my wanderings often led me to you, I was the happier for it. I should have known it could not last. I had dared to forget we were cursed.

Everything feels different, Russandol. Everything is different. I do not think I will experience joy ever again. My joy will always lack something.

I keep talking about my own pain, but the truth is I do not care about it. Despite my anger, I do not care that he will not be here for me. I only care that he will not be here. Do you understand the difference?

Perhaps there is none, and I am only trying not to appear selfish. It is hard to tell sometimes.

---

I am still so angry. I have surges of violent thoughts. I want to rage against this unfairness, this injustice. I want to break the chairs, I want to sweep off the dishes from the table, I want to scratch the walls. It is so unfair! It should not have happened. He should not have done that.

I go and practice with the sword to let the anger out, but it does not help. I am powerless against the natural order of things, against the unchangeable and cruel finality of it.

---

I was passing by the kitchens the other day, and I heard the cooks sing. It was Snow upon the Taniquetil; my father loved that song. I joined in from afar, and halfway through the song, I noticed that I was trying to imitate my father’s voice. I stopped then. It was a poor imitation. It was not even close.

What am I supposed to do, Russandol? How am I supposed to replace him? His absence is felt so deeply, and not just by me. If only you could see Lalwen… You would not recognize her. The bold and merry aunt we know is gone. She is a shadow of her former self. I have never seen her like that. Not even after Grandfather died.

How can I help her, Russandol? How can I be what my father was for her? I cannot, I know I cannot, no matter how hard I try.

---

Everything reminds me of him. I had never thought about how many of my memories are connected to him. Even something as simple as brushing my hair or riding my horse makes me think of him.

It is only natural, of course; he was my father. And yet, I find myself astonished to discover just how much he has shaped me, how great a role he has played in making me what I am, how entrenched he is in every aspect of my life from my mannerisms to my habits and preferences.

I hear his voice sometimes, I hear his laughter. I go somewhere, say something, and I know for certain how he would respond. I hear it with perfect clarity, and I almost want to reach out and touch him, let myself lean against him as I used to do when I was younger.

I miss him. It is unbearable.

---

My father used to say sometimes that when this was over, he was going to leave the governing to us, youngsters, and go live on the seashore in a small house he would build for himself. I laughed, convinced that he was joking.

The other day I found drawings in his chamber. Drawings of a house. It was truly a small one, but in his nearly illegible handwriting, he had scribbled my name and the names of my siblings over the chambers. He had reserved one for each of us and another for Itarillë.

He never got to have that, Russandol. Isn’t that so terribly unfair? He was kind and strong, and he had tried to be the best father he could be for us. And he did not live to achieve his dream.

---

Time has lost all meaning. Sometimes I remember last summer’s feast my father held or that time just a month before the firefall we rode in Ard-galen with Aunt Lalwen and a small company (Angaráto and Aikanáro came to join us, and we spent a few nights under the stars), and it seems like it has just happened, it seems impossible that most of the people who were there are no more, that my father, larger than life, is gone, all his hopes and dreams are gone. He seems so alive, so present.

When I think back to the first days after his death, I am surprised I survived them. It still seems unthinkable to go on when you have lost someone so important. At times, it seems it happened so long ago that I cannot believe it has been only several months. And yet, I feel that a part of me is still there, locked within those terrible moments, reliving them over and over again. That part of me will always stay there.

---

Sometimes I wonder if I could have done something. If I could have stopped him. If I could have saved him. I wonder what I could have done differently to change the outcome. It is a futile exercise that does nothing but bring me more grief, but I cannot stop.

Sometimes I wish I could have gone back to the moment he rode out and stop him. I would stand before him and beg him to stay. I would scream at him that he was condemning himself to certain death. But he knew that already, didn’t he? He knew. Even if I could have stopped him, something else would go horribly wrong, I am sure of it. We are cursed, after all.

---

I still feel rage at times, but it is calmer, mellower, not the all-consuming fury it used to be. I sit at a council and feel the urge to throw the goblet I hold upon the wall, to see it break. I watch myself doing it, but distantly, as if it is a different person wearing my face, while I am calmly conversing with my court.  

Is this how it is going to be, Russandol? Will I slowly learn to accept it, to live with it? To live without him. It is not what I want. It feels like a betrayal.

I laugh sometimes, I make decisions, I keep on living, and it too seems a betrayal. I am wrong to feel this way, but I cannot help it. I look at his portrait – smiling, he wanted the artist to paint him smiling, so when one day Itarillë came to visit, she (a full-grown woman she already was at the moment the painting was made, mind you) would not be scared – I look at it, and I smile back, and I tear up, and I hear him scold me for these thoughts, and still I cannot help it.

---

Will you believe that I have not cried yet? I cannot do it. There are moments when I feel I will break down, when my eyes fill with tears, and my chest constricts with the wretched pain of loss, but they last seconds, and I get myself under control again.

I try to work myself into exhaustion, so I will fall into a deep sleep and not have to think, but I lie in my bed wide awake and think of him dying alone. It makes me want to scream, but I am afraid that if I start, I will never stop.

Perhaps I could weep if you were here. Perhaps I could break in the safety of your embrace. Perhaps I could afford to be fragile and vulnerable if only you were to see me. Oh, how I wish you could come. I am barely stopping myself from asking you. I know that if I sent this, you would be battling with the same desire, but of course, your good judgment would prevail.

---

I have to end this letter one day, but I have no idea how. I still hurt, I will always hurt, I still think of him every single day. There are days I still feel angry, there are days I still cannot believe it, there are days I feel exhausted and incapable of doing anything. But there are also days I am able to remember him without the accompanying piercing pain.

Maybe there will come a time when those days grow greater in number, and I will be able to smile when my thoughts inevitably turn to him. Until then, I will try to do my best and keep living and hoping to see you safe and sound.

Yours,

Findekáno

[the-volume-is-astronomical]

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

Knight's Mistake

A/N: y'all some people actually cared so i decided to share this chapter which is def shorter but hope y'all enjoy and remember to stay alert there could be clues as to what happens next anywhere (also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

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words: 1601

summary: Roman’s in the tower and he is now alone with his new knight in shinning armor pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, pretentious character, violence (near the end), talking down to someone, blatant sexism

(let me know if there's any other)

“Your majesty…” Trent opened the door for Roman, he didn't react at all. He kept looking out the carriage window. Ruth asked Trent to give them a minute and he nodded looking complacent but, she saw from the corner of her eye his smile drop and his eyes roll...she’d have to look into that later, for now…

”Roman, I truly do hate to bring you back to reality but-” Roman seemed to sober up at her voice “I know, I know.” They both got out of the carriage, Trent at the ready with Roman’s possessions. Ruth and Roman gave each other a goodbye. “I'll be back in the morning. I hope by that time with Remy..” Roman chuckled

“And I swear if I see you reading that damn book-” “No! I promise I'll read something else this time” Roman knew Ruth was just joking “You are such a bad liar- I thought I taught you better!” Their little moment was rudely interrupted by Trent’s over exaggerated coughing.

Roman turned around almost forgetting Trent was there. “Sorry for the interruption, Your majes-” Roman interrupts Trent “No, please, call me Roman” The knight gave a tight nod and gestured towards the tower which Roman purposely ignored. Roman gave Ruth a hug, afterwards Trent helped her to the carriage.

Roman watched his only way out leave with his nurse. Trent was getting tired of being ignored. He grabbed Roman’s arm, not forcefully, the Prince was his only way of proving to the King how much potential he had. He had heard how ingenious the heir could be, he had outwitted several knight before, it was obvious the royal hadn't done it to embarrass the knights but, the other trainees always made fun of those who were fooled by the young prince.

Trent did not intend to be one of them.

Roman quickly twisted his hand off “his” knight’s grasp, he just started walking forward without saying another word, not even looking to where he was going. From an outsider perspective it might look as if he had memorized the path to such a degree he could get to his destination with his eyes closed, they would be right.

After arriving at the top of the tower, he went towards the nearest shelf and took out the only book with any color that wasn't brown or gray, he sat by the window but instead of rereading his favorite book, Trent spoke up trying to make conversation.

“So, I heard Hugo had been your knight before I” dropping Romans possessions as he spoke. Roman looked up pretty confused, he wasn't used to talkative Knights, he usually had to fight stories out of Hugo.

“Well yes, there was a time where Hugo was planning to retire but all the knights that applied to be my babysitters, to upgrade rank of course, were very easily fooled” Trent ignored almost everything he had said just waiting out until it was his turn to talk “Yeah, yeah.. Did you know Hugo actually taught me for a while?”

Trent obviously expected curiosity, which he got. “Really? Hugo has never spoken of you, I've asked him about his life for so long, I could write a whole book about his life.” Trent looked a little annoyed at that “He did indeed teach me for a while not for long though, it was back in Meadowfort…” making an obvious pause expecting Roman to ask for more details about Hugo’s home, he was a very private person

… What he did not expect on the other hand was Roman to start monologuing about what Hugo had told him about the place.

“Oh, Meadowfort!” He jumped up starting to look through a trunk, until he pulled out a drawing “Gosh, I remember Hugo telling me so much about his home” Trent didn't really know what to say, he looked at the drawing that Roman had laid on the desk, and it was Meadowfort.

He only had a foggy memory of what the place looked like, last time he had been there he was a child. “Hugo went back a few years ago, he got an artist to make me this painting of his hometown. I had completely forgotten about it till you mentioned it!” Roman rambled admiring the drawing.

Trent, still trying to impress Roman, spoke up. “Yes! That's um... his street, his house was…” he trailed off looking around the drawing, actively trying to remember which was Hugo’s house, before his memory could be refreshed the Royal next to him beat him to it, “...I believe it was this one, Hugo always told me what a perfect view he got from his bedroom window.” He was very hesitant as he felt he was interrupting his new knight too much.

Trent agreed with that sentiment. He was incredibly annoyed with the prince. Trent tried to impress him by other means but, Roman proved to know a lot about Hugo’s life. So he headed towards the big shelf and picked up one of the philosophy books he recognized.

“Ah! ‘Philosophy Without A Goal’, an amazing piece of literature... though, I certainly don't agree with all it’s ideals” he again expected a reaction of awe towards his knowledge on a type of book mostly used to teach royalty but he got none of it

“Oh yeah, I think I remember a bit of that book. I wasn't really interested in the topic and my professor was very considerate, he always included some adventure or fantasy book when it was time to practice reading, after my parents found out he got fired...always felt bad about that.” Roman spoke while eyeing the red book that sat abandoned by the window.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

After several attempts of trying to impress the prince with the amount of knowledge he had but, being out done by the monarch, Trent gave up. “It’s getting late, i'm going to head to bed...where exactly am I going to sleep?” Roman stood up and quickly headed for the door “There's a room we passed while heading up-” Roman, hand on the door handle, was going to show Trent where he was going to sleep but, the knight panicked thinking this might be the prince trying to trick him.

“No!” He ran towards the door and slammed it, startling Roman “I can find it myself- thank you though, your majesty” Roman was very confused and still a little shocked at the outburst “Um...sure, if you have any questions about anything let me know, i’ve spent half my life here.” there was something bitter tracing his voice, not that Trent noticed nor cared so, he excused himself.

Trent actually found the room pretty easily, he was unsure how he had missed it before. He was unbelievably annoyed once he realized he'd have to be in the tower with the royal for an undisclosed amount of time, why couldn't the prince shut his mouth from time to time, on the other hand, he could handle it as long as he could cut a few extra steps and effort to actually get to a position of power.

Though life isn't always ideal.

(In this case, he definitely had it coming)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roman woke up to raised voices, in his half-asleep self he couldn't make out what they were saying but he did recognize Ruth’s voice and how much anger she laced her words with.

He stood from his bed concerned for his nurse and who might be on the other end of her venom, she only really had patience for those she cared about. He hurriedly put a robe on and headed out his room. He found Trent and Ruth arguing, his nurse was absolutely fuming, and in a lack of better words “ready to kill a bitch”.

As Roman finally realized they were arguing, he tried to listen as to what they were fighting about. “The King gave me direct orders to not let anyone who wasn't of importance in, that obviously doesn't include a random servant bringing the Prince some tea. Trent emphasized on the word King, as if to prove he was somehow above Ruth.

“Look hun, I get it you think you’re hot stuff because ‘the king chose you to babysit the prince and that's going to help your career’ or whatever, just let me in to see how my baby is doing...ok?” Ruth sounded tired but Roman could hear the murderous edge to her tone.

“Did they not teach you to not to talk that way towards a man?” Trent apparently heard the tone she was obviously trying to hide and he also didn't have a will to live, Roman was about to say something but, Trent spoke before he could.

“Just leave the food and head back, you sure as hell aren't strong enough to get by me.” Roman genuinely thought Ruth was going to go off on Trent and go on a screaming match. However, he did not expect his nurse to, in a blink of an eye, have Trent on the floor, one of her hands on his back and her other hand extending Trent’s right arm while putting a foot on his left arm, basically having this trained knight in an armlock.

Roman was confused and impressed but, mostly too tired to analyze what was happening in front of him so, when a random purple haired knight showed up holding a piece of paper and made eye contact with him, looking extremely concerned and confused, he just shrugged and yawned as if, his nurse didn’t have the his assigned knight in an armlock.

taglist:

@meowthefluffy

[nessiancalore]

Hello my children

I just finished the book and I want to talk about it, so -- obviously -- spoilers ahead.

First I want to talk about the fact that this writing was AMAZING for me.

I used to get the feeling that sjm had one type of writing with tog and another with acotar (tog being my fav and ccity I have to reread to get into a bigger understand) but this book OMG.

I'm not talking exactly about the way she did it (though I loved the small chapters) but the things she decided that were important.... We got so many good stories about the courts, history, THE ILLYANS history, that was fucking amazing.

The second thing: how she handled the girls. They found each other,they loved each other even not knowing what """" they've done"""", Gwyn, Emerie and Nes are EVERYTHING and YES their stories ARE worth telling.... Sarah made their growing really good, made them take their time and that last scene when they tell each other everything, I cried SO MUCH, it was really well done for me.

I'm gonna talk about nessian first, then Nesta.

Nessian... Their development, the fact that Sarah made them already know about the bond (BITCHES WE WERE RIGHT) but " not act upon it" and Cassian making mistakes (because that's how it works) and Nesta even when he did kinda "understanding" and the scene when she tells him everything they indeed found healing in each others arms.

And the sex... Guys..... THE FUCKING SEX... I knew it would be 😳😳, but I was NOT expecting both of them enjoying a little pain, saying stuff like " think of you. Of your cock." or “I love being so covered in your seed that it leaks out of me for ages afterward. I love feeling it slide down my thighs and knowing you left your mark in me.” THAT WAS BRUTAL.

Anyway... Nesta Archeon.

There were a lot of quotes and things that Nesta has said that made my heart cry, the thing about selling herself for food, the way Nesta said she hated herself and the thing with Thomas and her mother omg, Nesta deserves love.

She is definitely one of the best characters I've ever read. Her journey.... We've learned A LOT from her past (stuff that we've missed it because it has been Feyre's pov and feyre herself never knew), we have her dacing, her love for music (that music box, I cried), we have her confessing many times that -unfortunately- she pushed away "bc didn't want to hurt anyone "and then saying to herself stuff like "she would do it again" about Cassian... AND THE STEPS.

the fucking steps.

That was AMAZING to read. The ideal behind it...Nesta going and going and everything something went wrong she went again and through the book you can see the change of "I'm doing to get down there and drink " to "I'm doing to put myself together"... Personally it was an amazing way of showing that even though, idk, she fucked cassian, the fact that any priest had signed to train with her still bothered her and brought everything back, because that's how life works triggers and stuff.... And then Amren doesn't believe in her and she finally gets down, I honestly thought that she was going to the first tavern she would find but NO she goes to Amren and Feyre is there and Nesta does something that crushes her spirit.. And the "trip"... Him giving her the space until she finally says everything -- she feels totally comfortable around him to say it.. That scene made my heart so sad and worm omg.

The Valkyrie thing... Nesta is going to LEAD...SHE BASICALLY WON THAT FUCKING THING, SHE IS A POWERFUL AND BRAVE WARRIOR AND I'M SO HAPPY FOR HER THAT OMG... I loved it.. She found a purpose and when she talks about leading the priests and cassian is on board omg, she is a fucking general and well, in the next war they will be leading armies together...

Az and Nesta... I saw it coming, they are PERFECT...When she hugged him I felt hugged as well.

RHYSAND AND NESTA "HER BROTHER" that's all I'm going to say.

Feyre and Nesta.... nes's first I love you was towards her sister, she gave her power away for her sister, she loved feyre very much, that's it.

A little bit more of nessian now (lol)... The fact that in the entire book we have so many beautiful things being "thought" from both, and then she just says everything...That he is good and brave and she thinks she doesn't deserve him but we know that he was the one who thought that and the EVER OMG THE E V E R . (HE CRIED, I TOLD YOU GUYS HE WOULD).

And then... the talk about them being mates.

They both knew it, they both felted but she was afraid and he didn't wanted to pushed into her so he left and omg the struggle and then “Because my mate taught me well.” I SCREAMED... Nesta saying many times that from the moment they've met she couldn't stop thinking about him and it drove her insane and scared but we know it was kinda a of a "good scared" and if you think about it and look back, when feyre asked cassian "why do you bother" HE KNEW ALREADY and in the beginning of the book Nesta asks him the same thing and he just “Why did you stay at my side when we went up against the King of Hybern during that last battle?” DUDE THEY KNEW!!!!

And a cute fact that I cannot left unsaid: she also named his poses/faces :")

EMERIE AND MORRIGAN, I WANT IT, I NEED IT, WHERE, WHEN, PLEASE GIVE TO ME.

Eris... I hate him, he wanted to BUY Nesta and said those bullshits to Cass...But I pity him.

About Az pov I'm only going to say one thing: Elain does not love Lucien, she can barely stand him... I think Az may be in a bad place rn so that whole "the cauldron may have made a mistake" was really "Hey ho, hold up" (I'm nut exactly okay with how rhys handle it... He wasn't wrong I guess but idk, the scene felt weird)..

I haven't read the feysand scene :(

To summon: I loved the book, a lot of amazing things to say... I can say that the similarly with feysand in a particular scene made me go a little "it could have been different" but still a powerful scene after all and I don't think besides that I have actual complaings... Only that I wanted a scene where Cassian looked at Nessian's tattoo and talked about it.... And since we are mentioning him... He has the biggest wingspan... There's no way that a bigger cock exists :)