#done he can do it himself. forgive my bitterness I can't stand how much he can't stand me and how he's been treating my dad

[wickershells]

can't wait until my brother moves out next month

[cosmiccrushes]

Consequences

Lucanis x Rook || 2.0k words

on ao3

summary: Shadow Dragon Rook confronts Lucanis about his anger towards her after she chooses to go to Minrathous.

notes: wanted to explore the idea of what lucanis' anger at rook might mean, if their relationship were to continue developing (since you're just locked out of the romance option in game booo lol)

Lucanis lifts his head out of his hands at the knock on his door. His shoulders stiffen as he calls “come in.” He already knows who it will be. He stays seated on his bed, rooted down by the fear growing heavy in his chest. 

Rook enters. A guarded expression on her face that erupts an ache in Lucanis’ already tender heart. She halts several paces away. 

“We need to talk, Lucanis.” 

“Rook…” Lucanis begins. “I am not sure there is anything to say.” Not anything he knows how to put words to, not anything he knows if he’s allowed to put words to. 

“I disagree. I think there's plenty to say. If you'd stop giving me the cold shoulder.” 

Lucanis rubs his temple in agitation. Doesn't she understand? He has avoided and brushed her off out of fear of how Spite might twist his pain if Lucanis lets down his guard, lets her back in. 

“So this is what we are to become?” Lucanis might miss the slight quiver in her voice if he had not come to know her so well. “People who barely acknowledge each other's existence? I thought we were friends.” 

“I don't know what else to do, Rook.” He wonders if she can hear the plea in his words. He'd give anything for her counsel, for her to show him the way through this confusing mess of emotions. 

“Talk to me!” She clenches her mouth shut as if surprised by her own outburst. “Please,” she whispers the word and it could undo him. But undo him into what? He’s not sure. 

“I don't know what to say, Rook. What is done is done. I don't-” Lucanis sighs heavily. “I don't blame you for what happened to Treviso.” 

“Don't you, though?” She tips her nose into the air and Lucanis recognizes the familiar set of Rook issuing a challenge. The desire to trace his finger along the bridge of her nose stirs him angrily to his feet. 

“You made a hard choice. As all leaders must.” 

“And you are never going to forgive me for it are you?” She says it with a tone of resignation but Lucanis sees the question in her eyes. 

“It's not- It isn't that simple.” He wishes it were. He wishes he had enough power over Spite to face her with what her choice made him feel.  

“But it's that simple with Neve?” There’s an undercurrent of emotion in her words that feels like accusation. Lucanis doesn’t know how else to place it.  

“It's not like that.” He’s not entirely sure what he’s denying, but he feels like that’s what he should do. 

“That seems to be exactly what it’s like. Neve gets forgiven and I-” She jerks her gaze sharply away from him and Lucanis wonders if she is hiding her tears behind her curtain of hair, if he warrants that kind of response from her.  

“You are not Neve.” Lucanis says, because it's the truth. 

A bitter laugh from Rook. “Right. I am not.” 

Lucanis shakes his head in frustration. He can't tamp down the anger he feels at how little Rook understands. “This changes things, Rook. How could it not? Treviso needed you and you abandoned it.” He had needed her. She had left him and it had petrified him to realize how much he'd come to expect her beside him. In such a short span of time together, Lucanis had shaped himself around her constant presence. Lucanis did not feel those things for people and, as he looked out at his blighted city and thought only of facing it with Rook, he had felt afraid- and angry. But at himself or at her? He couldn’t say. 

“I didn't abandon Treviso, Lucanis! That is unfair and you know it. I chose to stand with my home. With my people! Just like you did! Just like Neve did. What would you have done in my position?” She stabs a finger into his chest. He hadn't even noticed the way they'd drifted together. 

He knows he would've chosen his own family too. But this anger he feels- like careening off a cliff and it's all his fault for not being more cautious- it sparks a truth in him that he's never been faced with. They had been presented with the same choice, and they’d both chosen their homes. But Rook wasn’t mad at him for going to his people as she went to hers. His pain didn’t feel like that of a man let down by his leader. It felt like the sting of betrayal by someone he trusted. And Lucanis only trusted his family. So what, did that make Rook to him?  

“I would’ve chosen my home.” He finally answers her. 

She drops her hand, fingers curling into a fist before falling limply at her sides. “You've reconciled with Neve. But you can't even look at me. You won’t even be in the same room as me.” He has to lean in to catch her next sentence, exhaled on a breath. “Why is she different from me?” 

Lucanis' blood rushes in his ears, his heart lodges in his throat. Understanding dawns over him. Does she think it was easier to forgive Neve because his friendship with Neve meant more? He almost wants to laugh at how absurd this situation is, how ill-equipped he is to navigate the complexities of relationships. Lucanis doesn’t really have friends, Illario notwithstanding. And whatever has been brewing within him since Treviso was attacked feels so unfamiliar he’d almost attribute it to Spite. If the demon hadn’t coiled around the emotion and cackled, as if he understood what Lucanis couldn’t quite grasp.   

“She is not you,” Lucanis winces at his words when Rook flinches away like she's been hit. He reaches out shaky, tentative fingers to gently lift her chin so she'll meet his eyes. “You are the one who is different.” His cheeks blaze with embarrassment and his fingers tingle where they connected with her skin. His pulse thrums with his nervousness that this was not how friends touch each other. 

“I don't-” She shakes her head in confusion. 

“Neve chose to go to her home-” 

“As did I!” Rook interrupts. 

“I know. But,” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “You didn't choose me. And I am so angry at myself for expecting you to.” He feels horrifyingly fragile under her gaze. 

Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. “Oh, Lucanis.” She gently places a hand against his chest, over his heart. “I am so sorry. I never meant for it to feel like I wasn't choosing you. It wasn’t a choice between friends. I just…Minrathous is the only place I’ve ever known.” 

Lucanis wills his heart not to race under her palm. “I know it's not fair of me to place those expectations on you. I know you didn't do anything wrong, but Spite-” Lucanis doesn't know how to finish the thought, how to voice his fear. 

“Spite makes you, well, spiteful of me,” she finishes for him with a sad smile. “I understand, Lucanis. I won't force my friendship on you.”

She turns to walk away and a new fear grips Lucanis tight. He doesn't pause to think of the consequences. He reaches out his hand, snagging her wrist. She looks back at him questioningly. 

“I don't want to lose your friendship.”

“Nor I yours. Tell me what I need to do, Lucanis.” 

A creeping panic crawls over him. He is this twisted and tangled up, having had her in his life for this blink of time that feels so much more substantial than his last year locked in the Ossuary. What will become of him if he asks for more? What would become of him if he didn’t? 

“I don’t know if I will be angry,” Lucanis warns. 

She nods slowly. “That’s okay. Your anger doesn’t scare me.” 

For some reason this makes him angry. “It should,” he says gruffly. “I cannot predict what Spite will do.” 

“I can handle your Spite, Lucanis.” Her voice drops in a gravely scrape that sends an inexplicable lance of heat through him. His mind, befuddled, as he races to sort through what his response means.

It’s the moment of distraction Spite has been waiting for. The demon seizes on his dazedness, and, in a flash of purple, thrusts an arm to Rook’s throat and pins her to the wall. Lucanis watches himself as if he’s at the bottom of a very deep well looking up, as Spite speaks with his voice. 

“You think you can handle me, little Shadow?”  

“Hello, Spite.” Rook does not miss a beat and does not look nearly as afraid as Lucanis needs her to. “Lucanis and I were in the middle of a conversation.” Lucanis wants to beg her to please not chastise the demon with its hands at her throat. 

“You. Mock. Me!” Spite howls. 

Rook looks genuinely affronted. “I do no such thing.” 

“You think you can subdue me. I. Want. Out!” 

Rook tilts her head thoughtfully. “And I want to not be tasked with hunting down my ancient elven gods and stopping them from blighting the whole bloody world. But we don't always get what we want.”

Spite hisses, but Lucanis feels his surge of glee, not anger, at Rook's words. “Yes. You have malice in you.”

“Oh most certainly.” Rook chuckles darkly. “I don't mock you, Spite. I understand what it means to be trapped within something you don't want. Neither you nor Lucanis deserve what was done to you, but you're stuck with each other now. I won't begrudge you your anger for it.” She reaches up to wrap her fingers around Lucanis' arm pressing into her lungs. “But I also won't let you hurt Lucanis. If you need to bloody your fists against something,” her nails dig into his forearm and there’s that tilt of her nose again as she challenges a demon. “Here I am. Do your worst. But I will not hurt Lucanis for you.” 

Spite tilts back his head in a bellowing laugh. “Oh, I like her!” 

A warmth blossoms in Lucanis' chest as he falls upwards from a great height, crashing back into his body. Spite's laughter continues echoing across his mind, but now it's Lucanis' weight pressing Rook into the stone. He stares at the determined set of her jaw, the fire blazing behind her eyes. The warmth seeps through his chest, wrapping around his throat, squeezing at his air supply. 

Love. Spite laughs harder. Mierda, it is love buried beneath his anger and fear. Lucanis didn’t think it was possible, didn’t think he could fall in love. But he’s listened to Illario ramble about it enough to be certain that is what has been pushing its way out of his chest. He is falling in love with Rook. Or has he already fallen? He’s not sure how it works or what he can do about it. Though it is painfully apparent now why he has felt so scared.

He drops his arm from Rook’s body, stumbling awkwardly back from her. He stares down at his own hands. These are the consequences of getting too close to her. If this were a contract, he’d have failed it spectacularly by not noticing that it was already too late, he’d already come much too close to the danger. 

“Lucanis?” The sound of her voice snaps his gaze back up to hers. He must wear his panic unchecked on his face, because alarm flashes over her own. “Lucanis,” she says more urgently, stepping forward to grasp one of his hands. “What’s wrong?”

He is frozen in his body. Spite may no longer be in control, but Lucanis doesn’t feel like he is either. 

“Hey, hey,” Rook soothes. “It’s okay. We will get through this. Together. That’s what friends do.” Her hand tightens around his. 

Lucanis would quietly take whatever wretched consequences fate wrought upon him. But he would not allow them to befall her. If that meant he had to bury away this strange, budding love to keep her safe, he would dig deep until his fingernails were ragged and bleeding. 

“Friends?” Lucanis breathes out. Want. More. Spite inhales. 

Illario liked to wax poetic about how much love could hurt. But even his cousin’s dramatics could not prepare Lucanis for the consequences of a demon falling in love.  

[ikamigami]

So I was thinking about Eclipse's relationship with Sun..

Cause his relationship with Moon is simple - he hates Moon for leaving him behind/abandoning him in Sun's head and being stuck there forever was his worst fear, he hates Moon for the person he is - how awful and abusive he was towards Sun, he also hates Moon because he hates himself because he's a part of Moon.. he wanted to prove that he's better than Moon to show that he's just better Moon between the two.

Though I think that he's relationship with Nexus was a bit different because Nexus started improving himself and even apologized to Eclipse for what Old Moon did to him (or to OG Eclipse but you know what I mean) - cause my headcanon is that Eclipse overheard Nexus' apology..

But it's not like Eclipse wanted Moon to die because he didn't. Eclipse needs both Sun and Moon in his life (especially considering that he's part both of them) and vice versa.

I wonder how Eclipse felt when Nexus started acting like Old Moon.. cause he tried so hard for Nexus to listen to him but he was met with this stupid stubborness..

Anyway I wanted to write more about Eclipse's relationship with Sun cause I think that I realized something important..

Which is the fact that Eclipse probably felt resentment towards Sun and was so hateful towards him not because he actually hated/despised him but because he couldn't stand how Sun never stood up for himself.. for all these months when Eclipse was stuck in Sun's head he had to witness Moon abusing Sun in various ways and he couldn't do anything about it.. so with Sun not only not standing up for himself but also being forgiving to Moon and still caring about him and loving him.. it just started to fill Eclipse with rage - which we could assume from his first therapy session with Earth when he explained how he hated the way Sun was and took care of himself.. because surprise surprise Sun wasn't taking care of himself at all..

No wonder why Eclipse was so resentful and bitter.. just like a kid with a mother who always forgives and loves her abusive husband..

But the problem was that Eclipse didn't know nor did he try to understand why Sun was like that.. because he never allowed Sun to talk with him.. he was too bitter and he hated Moon and wanted revenge too much to care about it..

Though he tried to help Sun with the way he was towards Moon and he also tried to tell him that he also is like them probably to show him that he can stand up for himself..

Though his actions were filled with irritation and frustration because he didn't understand Sun.. he didn't understand why Sun was like that..

It was beyond him and I think that this current Eclipse slowly starts to realize that.. even if he still doesn't see how much all of these things affected Sun's mental state - caused him depressive psychosis with guilt delusion - he knows that Sun wasn't at fault and being angry and yelling at him or using force won't help Sun at all..

I think that we can't get Eclipse helping Sun moment when Eclipse still doesn't even understand Sun.. or to be more precise he can't comprehend why Sun is so kind and compassionate..

And my biggest hope is that despite how much Puppet sucks and is manipulating Eclipse.. I hope that experiencing this new dimension and knowing these Sun and Moon better will help Eclipse to realize some things about Sun.. maybe even it'll help him understand Sun a bit more..

I hope that this is where we're heading with Eclipse's redemption and character arc in general.. to the moment when he'll apologize to Sun and try to help him to atone (even if a little bit) for what he's done to him..

And he's on a good starting path with how he treated Sun kinder.. cause it shows that he understands that Sun needs someone who is patient towards him.. and Eclipse showed that patience to Sun..

Eclipse's relationship with Sun is far more complicated and nuanced.. and it's important to look deeper in the context and not only focus on the stuff at the surface..

I won't lose hope as I am Sun and Eclipse becoming friends truther 😤

[anfie-in-the-box]

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

This one is short so I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's very different from the previous day though, so I'm x-cited about that!

The main story can be found here! Feel free to skip my works for Dark Cream Week if you want to read Turns, twists, and paradoxes chronologically! And enjoy!

。。。

Oblivion

Dream observes as yet another AU falls into oblivion. Beside him stands Cross, overwriting buildings and roads to collapse, people — kids and adults, monsters and humans alike — to become horrible monstrosities, as others watch helplessly how their loved ones succumb to their fate. It's utter chaos, a storm of destruction and suffering but not death, never the relief of death, and nobody sees the two skeletons on the highest building in the area, one causing it all and the other feeding on the shattered positivity of a ruined Pacifist timeline. It's satisfying to see others in as much pain as Dream is in; it's gratifying to be as unfair to all these people as the world has been to Dream and his family. He is bitter, jaded. He's done caring about everyone, whether they deserve it or not. He's done being kind and understanding when no one would do the same for him; no one but his family. The world doesn't like him, so why would he like the world? No, he loathes it.

So he lets the hurt and the mistrust and the cruelty fester within his soul. What used to poison and throttle him now sets him free. It's exciting. It's exhilarating. It's perfect.

The AU crumbles under them. It will all reset, but Dream doesn’t care; he needs shattered positivity here and now, and unlike Nightmare, what becomes of the resulting negativity is not something he has any regard for.

"It's beautiful," Dream says appreciatively. The sight before him is gruesome and horrific, and that's the charm of it.

Cross blushes faintly. "Don't distract me," he mutters.

"Oh?" Dream glances at Cross with a smile. "Am I distracting?"

"Very." Short and to the point.

Dream laughes. "How delightful! I love you too, Cross. So very much."

He'd hug him, but Cross really needs to focus. Overwrite is not a power easy to use, not for him; and he can't afford to mess up. It's alright though. Dream can wait. Cross doesn't kill this time so he gains very little EXP, therefore his sleep after all of this won't be as troubled. They will cuddle and talk until Cross driffs off.

Yeah, sounds like a plan.

Dream looks at Cross, mesmerised. He's so beautiful when completely in control of himself and the world around him, overwriting his surroundings to his wishes and Dream's satisfaction. It's brilliant. Cross is brilliant.

The oblivion will be this AU's salvation. It won't collapse. It will reset, and they will forget, all of them but those with the highest levels of determination. Dream won't forget, either, and he won't ever be forgiven, and that's the point. He wants just a couple of people to remember, he doesn't ever need more, doesn't need the negativity to stay.

The oblivion won't be Dream's salvation, though. He'll never forget his own corruption, and he'll never forgive himself, but that's okay. He's not hurting anymore. He doesn't need or want oblivion.

They'll be okay.

。。。

Credits

Undertale © Toby Fox

Dream!Sans © jokublog

Cross!Sans © jakei95 / xtaleunderverse

Shattered Dream © galacii-gallery / shattereddreamsau

Dark Cream and Dark Cream Week © zu-is-here

X-tra Dark Cream © me (anfie / anfie-in-the-box)

。。。

Notes

How do you like this one? It's further in the timeline than the previous day's ones, so it is indeed quite different! Dream's much more confident in what he does and clearly learning to relish in destruction he must cause to survive.

[angelynmoon]

Kilgharrah finds them as they are making their way back to Camelot and Lancelot watches the Great Dragon as he goes to land while the knights tense up and Leon burst into tears.

And well, Lancelot has his own issues with Kilgharrah and his Destiny and so he shifts and launches himself at the larger Dragon, anger fueling him.

He's angry at how he frightens Leon, he's angry that he told Merlin to kill Morganan he's angry that it's partly his fault Merlin will never truely know his father, but mostly he's angry for everything Kilgharrah put Merlin through because of some ancient prophacies.

While he's surprised at the dark Dragon that attacks himn Kilgharrah is not a weak Dragon, he's older than Lancelot and he survived the Purge and he knows how to use his size to his advantage, he has the benefit of having fought true Dragons in a bigone age.

Lancelot has no advantage, but he has rage at an injustice done to his Mate, he has three, four if he includes Gwaine, Hatchlings to protect from a bitter old Dragon's manipulations. And something to protect goes a long way in a fight against a being of Magic.

Lancelot wins and stands with his frontl leg pushing Kilgharrah's head into the dirt as Lancelot roars his victory.

Lancelot presses Kilgharrah's head further down as he turns to Merlin as he approaches, Lancelot changes back and lets Merlin cloth his befire he turns to Kilgharrah, who stares at him with shock in his golden eyes.

"You do not get to tell Merlin what to do from this moment on, he'll find his Destiny without you." Lancelot growled out, bits of smoke curling out with his words.

Kilgharrah stared a moment before he tipped his head, it had been centuries since he lost a fight, and he knew that Lancelot would only grow since by his reckoning Lancelot's Dragonform was only half grown, no, if he wanted to live Kikgharrah would obey.

"Good." Lamcelot growled, he accepted the Dragon's obedience but Kilgharrah would never be part of their Weyr, he'd hurt Merlin too much for that.

"Why are you here, Kilgharrah?" Merlin asked.

"I felt a Hatching." Kilgharrah said, "And I wished to meet them."

Lancelot looked at the Dragon, and put his hands over Merlin's where he'd gone to move the blanket that hid Theron's face.

"No." Lancelot said.

"No? No!" Kilgharrah shouted, "It's my kin, I have a right to meet them!" He shouted.

"They are my Hatchling, I have a right to deny you." Lancelot said, "Especially since you have not earned the right to meet him."

"Him." Kilgharrah whispered.

Merlin looked up at the Great Dragon, at the sadness in his eyes and looked at Lancelot who did not breakhis gaze from Kilgharrah's.

"You are right, Noble Knight, I have not earned the right, I did nit answer his cry for help when I first heard it, I was sure...." Kilgharrah finally looked away and hung his head.

Lancelot stroked the blanketed bundle.

"Perhaps in time, you will grant me the chance to meet the son of my Mate." Kilgharrah asked as he looked back at Lancelot.

"It will be years before I can begin to trust you." Lancelot informed him.

"Then I will wait, I have nothing but time." Kilgharrah said with a nod and flew away.

"How did you know?" Merlin asked as they rejoined the knights.

"Their scent, they smelled similar enough that they had to be related." Lancelot told him.

"And the fight?" Merlin asked, amused, eyebrow raised.

"He...," Lancelot paused, "He caused you so much grief, Merlin, it was his advice you followed to poison Morgana, his bargain that made you free himand then he turned around and attacked Camelot. It was his actions that lead to your Father's death. I will not forgive him for what he has done to you."

Merlin looked at his Mate and reached up to cup his jaw and press a kiss to his lips.

"I will not ask you to." Merlin whispered against Lancelot's lips.

"Daddy? Can I hold Thero?" Ellie asked as the knights made camp since Leon was near unconsolable, even with Kilgharrah's exit.

"You have to be careful, he can't change into his Dragonskin yet." Merlin said as Lancelot arranged Ellie so she could hold her brother.

Ellie nodded seriously and cooed softly in the Dragontongue as she looked at her brother, Effie perching herself at his head to look too.

Merlin smiled at them as Lancelot went to help with Leon, promising him that he'd keep him and Camelot safe from the Golden Dragon, he'd won their fight afterall, so no need to worry.

Leon eventually calmed enough to sleep, the twins joining him in a cuddle pile while Merlin fed Thero on his Magic, Lancelot settling himself behind Merlin, as he'd always done.

It was nice, peaceful, just what they all deserved.

--

A/n: So, I have a new headcanon that the first Dragonlords were Dragons that figured out how to be human or Humans with Magic that learned to change shape into a Dragon, therefore Lancelot is now a Dragonlord, more Dragon than most because techniqually he went from Dragon to Human because of his nonMagic status before the Twins changed him, by this means Gwaine is also a Dragonlord.

[majimasleftasscheek]

hi!! i was wondering if you had any head canons for nishiki? :0

BOY DO I

will have spoilers of course

so it's canon he takes hella good care of his hair and image but I also think he's crazy neat and clean with everything else. He goes over to Kiryu's house and can't help but clean up instinctively cuz the boy has beer cans n shit lying everywhere like damn bro what is this pigsty 

prolly taught Kiryu how to drive and it was one of the worst experiences of his life dealing with someone who thinks the road is merely a suggestion tryna do fancy car heat actions n all that

picks up girls so he can talk about makeup and haircare and pays them to buy him product so all the other yakuza don't see him do it

tries to act all big tough brother for his sister but sucks at it and just embarrasses himself (I wish we could have seen more of her and their relationship). Does his best to be cool™ to compensate for his own sense of pride

took Kiryu out all the time to socialize otherwise the goober would have stayed home all day when he wasn’t doing yakuza shit. Kiryu definitely tried to copy Nishiki’s behavior but like, didn’t understand what made Nishiki cool so he just says shit without thinking about it

evil Nishiki prolly couldn't stand Majima. Can't understand why this clown gets all of Kiryu's attention and doesn't get why this guy of all people has so much investment in Kiryu's life. Likely thinks Majima's dumbass antics are such a waste of talent while Majima could not give less of a shit. I think them interacting would be neato tbh. I may also be projecting from a fic I'm writing shhh

big insecurity and jealousy complex

wears a white suit later on to subconsciously be more like Kiryu but the white is brighter, refined, classy compared to the dull gray of Kiryu's outfit. White suit and black shirt visually representing his view on the world - hard contrast of strong and weak, outcomes and results - matching with his changed personality that sees things as it's his way or the highway. It's about power. It's about being at the top or you're scum, no in between, no gray. Or he just likes the color lmao

(one from my friend) he likes dinosaur chicken nuggies

the blood hair gel bit is definitely part of his daily beauty routine and not just some one time thing 

in my perfect world Nishiki survives the bomb and is totally fucked up. I think he would end up helping with Kashiwagi's thing to aid ex-yakuza integrate back into society. To some degree I think he’d be bitter towards Kiryu still and their relationship wouldn’t and couldn’t be totally healed. Helping Kashiwagi would be his form of penance but he couldn’t bear to be around Kiryu again, not for long anyway without dredging up things he’s done. Kiryu would forgive him most likely but I feel he would have a hard time forgiving himself. And I feel like he wouldn’t let go of his jealousy that easily either—how Kiryu just sort of rolls through life without aiming for anything or anywhere and that annoys him because he sees it as a waste. As much as I would love for them to reconnect, I think Nishiki would be too far gone at that point with all the, ya know, murder. After all he’s done, there’s just a good part of him that can’t simply go back to being Kiryu’s best bud. Maybe in time but it would be a long time

on a less depressing note I think he would rarely visit Morning Glory to hang out and tell the kids he got fucked up from a pizza explosion or something and they think that’s really really cool. It takes him awhile to get used to a loving family but it’s an experience he’s happy to have

[studiojeon]

bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

[moon-lixie]

"Were you this touch deprived?" The amusement could be easily missed in between the calm of your voice that threatened to melt under his fingertips.

"Yes," he answered immediately, no time for thinking needed, "when it comes to you I'm always touch deprived, I can never get enough of you."

word count: 1.970k

genre: fluff, Hyunjin x gn reader.

song: Wrong About Forever - Jeff Bernat

Every great waltz has its spins that make you feel like you're flying as the music pushes you further, Hyunjin wasn't a stranger to this concept, nor was he ignorant to the part in which the two people dancing move apart, stretching their arms as far apart as physically possible while their hands stay clasped together.

He, more than anybody, knew what it was to dance, to give yourself to music and get lost quicker than he could even realise.

What he wasn't familiar with were the matters of the heart, at that he had always been clumsy and hesitant, comparing love to a dance.

That's exactly why he could never understand when you walked away; his mind couldn't wrap itself around the concept of you leaving for good, in his heart there was always hope for a last dance.

Your face was carved into his memory, he could draw your every feature down on paper as easily as he could dance with his eyes closed.

Loving you wasn't a rational decision, it was an impulse, something he had grown to adore despite the difficulties it brought along.

The music filling the room suddenly faded, leaving behind the thrumming of his heart reverberating in his eardrums.

He had to admit there was always a bitter taste when that moment arrived, his body not being able to push any further and the music coming to an end.

If it was his decision then he would spend every second of his life doing the things that he loved, without the need of a break, without knowing what an ending meant.

But wishful thinking only ended up hurting his heart, bruising it carelessly as if he wasn't the type to hope on behalf of the entire world.

With a loud exhale he allowed himself to relax, shoulders loosening and eyes opening slowly, as if rushing through the process would be a mistake.

The first thing he saw was his reflection, the rolled sleeves of his shirt, hair clamped together on the front of his face because of his effort, lips parted and chasing an extra breath.

His surroundings were one of those places that gave comfort due to the long time it had been the background of his happiness, his passion for what he did had been sprawled all across the room.

Dragging his feet across the wooden floor, he scrambled to gather his things, barely remembering to grab his phone that had been discarded on the couch when he arrived if it hadn't been for the light buzzing sound coming from it.

The device loomed like a threat over his heart, having the ability to mend everything or put an end to one of those things he loved with an inimaginable fervor.

An unseen message had been sent in blue, waiting impatiently despite not being the first one sent between the both of you.

You had contacted him first; after two weeks of radio silence you had sent four words his way, typical of you.

'Can I call you?' It was unknown to him how long he had spent staring at the dark screen, forcing his eyes to trace the eleven characters that shaped your unorthodox way of asking for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for what? That he no longer knew, perhaps this time you had gotten scared of how ever so well you two worked together and that's why you had decided to walk away, or maybe there was a chance you had just gotten tired of him, again.

The game the both of you played didn't feel like the typical love he saw portrayed in movies but he couldn't find it in him to care, after all, dancing around you had never bothered him in the slightest.

With trembling fingers he had typed an answer, one word, three letters, a simple affirmation.

He tried to be quick, direct and concise; searching the deepest corners of his mind for the answer that could please you the most and immediately regretting the dry response.

But what had been done already wasn't something that should trouble his mind, even if it came to you, the person he craved to have by his side the most.

So, he had abandoned the mobile as soon as he stepped foot in the dance studio, leaving it screen against the couch in hopes that would soothe his anxious heart if only for long enough to enjoy his dancing.

Now that it buzzed with the call that could be the one he couldn't help but walk cautiously forward and take deep breaths before picking up.

"You're done with dance practice, right?" If he had ever wanted to get high on something, it was your voice, along with every single detail about you.

His lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Oh, so you do remember my number?"

A dry chuckle resonated on the line, forcing his mind to picture the scowl twisting the features of your beautiful face, portraying the guilt you never owned up to in front of him.

"Are you free?" Of course you would dodge his comment, but yet again, he couldn't bring himself to care, simply humming in affirmation.

"Okay, then see you in a bit."

Dumbfounded, an amused laugh found its way out of his lips. "Should I know what you mean by that?"

The harmless exasperation painted itself across your every word as you answered. "Do I really need to spell it out for you, Hwang?"

He was inexperienced when it came to love, very much so, but he was an expert when it came to you, always knowing what you meant, what you wanted, the things you needed.

Walking in the direction to your apartment he answered, "I'm afraid yes, I can't know what you mean if you don't explain it, now can I?"

You laughed annoyed, staying in silence for a moment; he couldn't have pushed things far enough yet, he could never, because you happened to love him just as much as he loved you.

"I miss you, okay? Happy now?"

"Very," he said, lips curling in a lovesick grin that shielded him even from the way you abruptly ended the call.

No matter how much you tried to walk away from him, suddenly cutting yourself from his life, you always came back, always stayed in the tiniest of details around him.

Perhaps that had been his mistake, to accept you even with that quirk of getting cold feet, because if only he had stopped it at once then it wouldn't have become a habit, a necessary routine.

But to love is to get tangled so awfully that you can't find your way out, only further falling into the mess of affection and longing.

The two of you just had your special way of working and tackling things, for instance, you hadn't talked to him for half a month and still your spare key remained under the pot of his favourite flower of yours.

Victory grin plastered on, he reached for the metal piece, opening the door of your apartment as if it were his very own home.

Alerted by his steps at the entrance you came to greet him, arms crossed over your chest as if to keep a final barrier between you and the man that owned your heart.

"I missed you too." Was the very first thing he said once he found your eyes staring right at his; it made you smile and he felt accomplished.

"Of course you did." His words melted you in an instant, making you move closer to him and take his hand in yours. "You always do."

And how could he not? How could he bring himself not to miss someone like you? Someone whose mere presence was intoxicating, seeping inside his muscles and veins, putting his being at ease.

Gently, he allowed the pads of his fingers to trace the outline of your nose, your lips, your chin, before leaning in towards you.

A firm hand against his chest stopped him on his track, causing a question to paint his face with confusion.

"You're all sweaty and you stink." You scrunched your nose adorably, as if actually bothered by his smell. "Go take a shower."

"But I want to kiss you first." A pout made his lips stand out, well aware that it sometimes worked wonders with convincing you.

"Nope, no kisses while you're all smelly." And just like that the both of you were back to normal, not caring to drag things for longer than they should with explanations or apologies that fell into deaf ears.

Against your petition he moved forward and embraced you in his arms, suddenly set on stone in making you squeal in complaint.

Moments later dragging you towards the bathroom despite the verbal refusal that didn't match with your eager steps trailing behind him.

Leaving his things forgotten on the entrance along with whatever fear he had harbored in his heart about this time being the time you would leave his side for good, he closed the bathroom door and kissed you.

Your lips felt unfairly soft against his, warm as a blanket that shielded people from every possible unfavorable outcome life could have prepared for them.

Sure hands moving to clasp on the hem of your shirt, slowly moving it upwards the further he got lost into the kiss.

Piece by piece he undressed the both of you until you were down to heart and soul, truths lying bare for eyes to pry and discover the biggest vulnerability in them.

Knowing the place as well enough as his own home, he turned around to set the water into the perfect temperature for the both of you, never cold.

Then he led you like you needed to be held, careful and attentive, eyes never leaving yours in a new attempt to learn every detail embedded in your pupils.

He turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and hugging you close until there was no space in between, his lips finding the way to your shoulder, pressing soft kisses meant to fix any remnants of doubt.

"Were you this touch deprived?" The amusement could be easily missed in between the calm of your voice that threatened to melt under his fingertips.

"Yes," he answered immediately, no time for thinking needed, "when it comes to you I'm always touch deprived, I can never get enough of you."

He couldn't be more honest even if he was asked to testify in court and make a pledge that allowed him to say nothing but the absolute truth, because he loved you with an intensity that sometimes could be mistaken as meek due to it's soft and innocent nature.

Hyunjin loved you the way someone loves something unobtainable, innocent and patiently, willing to wait entire lifetimes for stars to align and give him the pleasure of being in your presence.

Your hands moved to rest atop his where they were clasped together against your bare torso, thumbs escaping to rub soothing circles into your skin.

Trailing kisses up your neck he allowed himself to hope that every one of his touches reverberated with warmth all the way to your heart in the same fashion that yours did to him.

For you he would learn how to love properly, he would even understand to let go if that was what you truly wanted at some point in the future.

"I love you." The words felt like dripping honey as they slipped in between his lips for the very first time.

"I love you too," you answered, not even leaving time for him to panic at the sudden frankness with which his deepest sentiment had been revealed.

For a love like yours, he would always wait, always fight to make things better.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

THINGS YOU MAKE ME DO

Prompt: Inspired by the song Things You Make Me Do by Devil Doll

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, angst, heart break, manipulation

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @wickedsunfire , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: This song is amazing, this band is amazing and I missed my main man, so enjoy lol ❤️ If you’d like to check out my other works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

I've got a secret plan to love you and I do so night and day

And I always stand right by you, have your back in every way

And you wish that I could save you and I wish that I could too

But if you cause too much pain for me I'll leave if I have to

He stood up from the hotel bed and began to get dressed, and as she stared at his figure, she wondered until when was she going to put up with this

But I think about you constantly all through the night and day

And I toss and turn in bed at night and hope it goes away

But it never does and when I wake and you're not next to me

I remember where you are, I hope your girl forgives me

“Are you leaving already?” She asked

“You know I have to” He looked at her “We can’t have people suspecting this” He motioned to the space between them “I would be fucked if they did” He scoffed

“Excuse me?” She asked, hurt by his lack of emotion “What do you mean by that?” She couldn’t have felt more offended, even if she chose to

“What, Y/N? Look, we fuck every once in a while, we have a good time but that’s it!” He chuckled, as he tied up his sneakers “Don’t try to turn this into something that it isn’t” He stood up

“Like what?” She asked angrily

“You know what? I’ll see you later” He winked, and walked out the door of her hotel room

Do I need you?

You seem to think I do

Can't seem to see through anything that you do

Oh, ooohhh, the things you make me do

Y/N was walking down one of the dark arena hallways, when a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, pushing her inside of one of the locker rooms

“Aren’t you gonna talk to me?” He asked, with his lips glued to her ear

“No, and let me go! I have work to do”

“You’ve been ignoring me for three days straight! Why is that, baby?” As his lips made contact with her skin, trailing down her neck

“Roman, just let me go. This is not the place and DEFINITELY not the time”

“I miss you” He whispered “Y/N, baby, you hurt my feelings when you treat me like this” He buried his face in her hair and caressed her body softly

She scoffed “As if you had any”

“Hey” He turned her around so she could face him “What’s the attitude about?” He looked into her eyes, and saw the resentment they held

“Is this because of what I said in your hotel room?” He sighed

“If you know, then why play dumb?” She spat

“C’mon Y/N, I’m sorry, ok?” He hugged her waist “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m an asshole! Please forgive me?” He pouted “Please, baby? I hate when you get mad at me” He begged with his eyes

“You don’t deserve it, you know” She crossed her arms in front of her chest

“Don’t be such a bitter bitch...It’s hotter when you’re MY bitch” He teased

When she tried to hold back a cackle, he knew he had won again

I should know better than to follow your lead wherever you go

Through the raging rivers, stones and alley ways we go

Sometimes I wonder if you really know where you take me to

But your radio is on so loud I can't get through to you

But if everything's ok with you then it's ok with me

You are such a little boy with you're big philosophy

But I'm not a little girl, I am a woman, don't you know?

I'm packing up my toys, I don't want to play anymore

“I don’t want to do this anymore” She said, watching him turn around and get dressed again - as he did every time.

“What are you talking about?” He frowned, as he looked for his shirt

“I don’t want to see you anymore, I’m done with this bullshit”

“You’re breaking up with me?” He laughed, in disbelief

“Well technically, in order to break up with someone you need to be with them in the first place”

“Not this again” He rolled his eyes in annoyance “Why do you always have to get feelings involved, huh? For fucks sake, can’t you ENJOY a one night stand like everybody else?” He threw his hands up in the air

“One night stand?” She widened her eyes in surprise “Do you call fucking almost every night for two years straight a ‘one night stand’ ?”

“Sexually speaking, we couldn't be any more compatible if we tried - so what the fuck do you want me to do? You’re a good fuck to me and I’m a good fuck to you! Why would I search in clubs and bars for something I have next door?” He tugged on his hair out of frustration “I don’t have to date you to like you, Y/N” He sat down beside her on the bed, and caressed her face delicately “You know I like you, don’t you, baby?”

“Yeah I know” She slapped his hand away “You like me when your dick is inside of me”

“Y/N” He sighed

“Get the fuck out” She kicked him on his lower back, in a repeated attempt to shove him out of the bed “Get out!”

“I’m leaving!” He said, grabbing his jacket

“Out!” She threw one of her heels at him, and her aim made it so it nailed him sharply in the hip

“I said I’m fucking leaving” He grabbed the door handle “Crazy bitch!” He said loudly enough for her to hear as he left

But what he didn’t hear were her sobs, which lasted the entire weekend

Do I need you?

You seem to think I do

Can't seem to see through anything that you do

Oh, ooohhh, the things you make me do

Six months had passed. Y/N had transferred to Smackdown, leaving Roman and all of their bitter memories together with Monday Night Raw, and for once in her life, is truly happy. That night, as she approached her car in the parking lot, she spotted none other than Roman himself leaning against the drivers’ door of her vehicle

And how can you smile at me when you know just what you can do

And it's not fair to me cause you know that I can never have you

How can you make me feel so good but then you make me feel so bad

You know that you are the baddest love that I've never had

“Hi, baby” He smiled sheepishly “I missed you” He tried to hug her, but she dismissed him

*It’s not going to be as easy as I thought* He mentally said to himself

“Can I talk to you for a minute? I wanted to apolog-”

“What are you doing here, Roman?” She asked sharply

“I got transferred to Smackdown”

“Good for you” She nodded once and continued “Now, if you excuse me, I’m really tired” She pointed towards her car

“Y/N” He cupped her cheek “Please, just hear me out? I regret everything I did, baby. I mean it! I should have never treated you like that, you don’t deserve it! You’re a beautiful, smart, sexy woman and it was a huge mistake to take you for granted” He brushed his lips softly against hers “Tell me you forgive me, I beg you, please, baby”

“I forgive you and then what? Everything goes back to what it used to be? You treating me like shit? No, Roman. This is not fair to me” She shook her head

“And you’re absolutely right! That will NEVER happen again! I give you my word, baby. Just give me one more chance and I promise I’ll make it up to you” His long fingers stroked the back of her neck lightly, making her miss what they once had.

That was until her phone rang, and the first chords of the Davy Jones Locket song echoed through the parking lot, remembering her of what she had now.

She smiled, as the song continued “No, I have to go” She took his hand off her face and entered the car to go meet the owner of that ringtone.

I've got my own man now, he treats me the way that you never could

And now you're all like "I should’ve, could’ve, would..."

But I'm afraid you've missed the train, you were too busy playing games

And now our story comes to an end, you ain't my lover or my friend

And when I am walking down the aisle oh so happily

Then you'll be saying "it could’ve, should’ve been me."

“Rumor has it, you’re getting married” Roman said, leaning against her office’s door

“Wow, news travels fast in this business, huh?” She answered, not paying too

much attention to him

“Can I see the ring?”

“Why? Want to buy a new one for your wife?” She scoffed

He decided to ignore her tone “Can I know who the lucky guy is?”

“Will it change anything if you do?” She continued to read her papers

“Can you stop answering my questions with other questions?”

“Will you stop asking me personal questions then?”

He chuckled softly “I missed that acid humor of yours”

“What do you want Roman?” She glared at him

“Your happiness” But this time, he meant it

“Now, that’s a bad taste joke” She laughed bitterly

“I know you don’t believe me, but I do”

“Right” She said dismissively

“Can you tell me who it is?”

“I figure, if you know I’m getting married then you also know who the groom is. Why hear old news again?”

“It’s Drew, isn’t it?” He asked defeatedly

She sighed “Yes, Roman. It’s Drew, are you happy now?”

“When is the wedding?”

“October. Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

“I need to know how much time I have to kidnap you before you commit the biggest mistake of your life” He joked, but deep down, he meant it

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already committed that one” She said, intentionally making eye contact with him

“I love you, Y/N. Always have”

“You have a funny way of showing it” She murmured

“I’m sorry, babe...but I felt trapped. I didn’t knew how to express what I was feeling and I was so confused” He locked his gaze with hers “I would do everything different now, I swear I would”

She ignored his pleading eyes, and returned her gaze to her paperwork “I’m afraid that time is gone, Roman...There’s nothing left to do”

If you need me, I will not hear thee

Stay away from me, trying to decieve me

Oh, oh, ohhh the things you make me do

Oh the things you'll never make me do

Oh the things you’ll never make me do

Roses are red, violets are blue and so are you

One year later, Y/N is gathering her personal belongings from her office, her pregnancy doesn’t allow her to travel with the company any more, so she’s going to be working only from her home office for the foreseeable future. A knock on her door made her look up

“I heard the stork will be visiting you soon” Roman said

“Yeah, apparently she will”

“How far along are you?” He approached her carefully

“Just turned four months”

“Baby is popping out of nowhere, huh? Until a week ago you had no bump at all, and now” He reached his hand to touch her belly, but stopped midway

“It’s okay, Ro, you can touch it” She encouraged him

He smiled widely and rested his big hand against her tiny bump

“Do you know what you’re having?” He asked softly

“Girl” She smiled brightly “Regan”

“Even got her a name already? Damn baby, you’re fast- Sorry I shouldn’t have called you that” He said weakly

“It’s ok, don’t worry about it” She tried to hide the nostalgia the pet name brought to her

“I wish...” He trailed off

“Don’t. Don’t go there, please”

“You can still run away with me, you know?” He smirked, teasingly

“I’m sure you would look great holding a female version of Drew” She tried to joke

“As long as you birth it, I don’t care who made it. Although I wish it was me” He tried, one last time

“Maybe in another life, Ro” She smirked sadly, as she reached the door

“Do you promise?” He asked

“I’ll see you around” Smiling widely, she made her way out the arena doors, leaving him behind, for the second time (in that life).

But who knows what can happen in the next one?...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[dreamsclock]

I woke up in a cold sweat with this thought and now I can't stop thinking about it:

smp!Ranboo loosing his first canon life to none other than Tommy.

Idk what the context of this happening would be but my angst brain is jus going brrrrrrrrrr rn -📚

:’) this made me rlly rlly sad ,,,,, i was a little uncertain about writing this bc i don’t want to portray trauma as an inherently violent thing, but i guess in c!tommy’s case it can be ?? he’s been through so much and he’s still working on expressing his trauma and anger in a healthy way - i tried to portray that here, along with the consequences it has on others and himself in the aftermath. this is in no way me saying c!tommy is a bad person or cruel or anything, but i just thought it would be a sad angle to come from, and interesting given c!ranboo’s connection with c!dream,,,, pls read the warnings before reading this !!

warnings: suicidal thoughts, murder, violence / fighting, emotional distress, grief, trauma, trauma responses, major (temporary) character death, scarring, fear, death, blood, guilt, hurt no comfort (there technically is a little comfort but no Resolution, so read warily!)

There is nothing pretty about Tommy’s rage. He differs from Wilbur in that way, who had managed to turn anything into a thing of beauty - whose rages, paranoia, obsession, destruction (of himself and his country) had been twisted into beautiful things, whether they had been or not.

Tommy isn’t like Wilbur. His anger is ugly, bitter and spilling over with hurt, and Ranboo knows it’s been curdling in him for a long time, this hatred and anger and resentment, that it doesn’t come from nowhere, that Tommy’s anger is born out of a lifetime of trauma and badly dealt with emotions.

In the same way, Ranboo’s first death is anything but beautiful.

It’s cruel, nobody can argue that - what a way to go, something mean sneers in the back of his mind, that isn’t Dream’s voice but isn’t his own either, what a way to go, beaten to death by your best friend and your best friend’s best friend. Isn’t this funny?

He’s not laughing when he pulls his armor off, less of a suicidal motion than it is terror that Tommy will kill himself first, because Ranboo has lives to spare: two of them, precious, useless, because life will be meaningless without Tubbo and Tommy and Michael around as his friends and family, and if Tommy kills himself on his enchanted armor Ranboo will never forgive himself. It’s not suicidal when he doesn’t fight back, because it’s fear that stops him fighting back, fear he’ll do something else unforgivable by killing Tommy. Ranboo isn’t suicidal when he doesn’t tell Tommy to stop, but distantly, past the pain, he notes that he thinks he deserves this. It’s not suicidal, but it’s far from caring about his own life.

Isn’t this funny? He can’t remember the last time he’d laughed.

He respawns after one last vicious blow, tucked up in bed like he’d never left. Ranboo lies there for a minute, lets the shock and horror mingle with Tommy’s last furious word - “Traitor!” - before he sits up, ignoring the aching throb of bruises and the sharp pain in his stomach that comes with a canon death wound. Instead of allowing himself to dwell on what had happened, he stands up, and heads mechanically outside to see Tommy.

(“How could you?” Tommy bellows at him, face white in rage, shock, horror, betrayal. “How could you work with Dream after all he’s done? You’re- You’re fucking evil. You’re evil.”

Ranboo is swallowed under the avalanche of hurt this brings. “Tommy, I didn’t, I didn’t know,” he starts, but it’s a lame excuse, terrified and tiny, “I honestly didn’t, I promise you. I can’t control what I do when-”

Tommy slams a fist into his face. Ranboo cringes back, blood running thickly down his nose. It hurts, but not as badly as it hurts to see Tommy’s anger.)

And seeing Tommy now is worse than any wound or death Ranboo can fathom: his friend is hunched up over where Ranboo had fallen, tiny and trembling, sobs wracking his body. He doesn’t move when Ranboo cautiously kneels down beside him, doesn’t move when he lays a careful hand on his shoulder, doesn’t hit him when he pulls him close for a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy chokes out, grief stricken and raw, “fuck, I didn’t- I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I know you can’t control it, I know you can’t-”

“It’s okay, Tommy,” Ranboo says, and he doesn’t know if it is, “it’s-”

“-And I still hurt you.” Tommy’s eyes are red-rimmed and exhausted when he pulls back, examining the bruises and blood on Ranboo’s face in horror. “I’m just as bad as him. I’m worse. Fuck. Fuck, Ranboo, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey.” Ranboo makes eye contact, however daunting he finds it and however much he hates it. “Hey, Tommy, I promise it’s okay. It... It will be okay,” he corrects, when he realizes how false the other sounds. “It will be okay, okay? I’m fine. You’re fine. I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you.”

It’s Tommy that embraces him this time, rough but cautious of his wounds, and Ranboo revels in it, thinks hey, this is better than him beating me senseless, and feels guilty for thinking it as soon as he does. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Tommy whispers, almost inaudible.

Ranboo exhales, half a laugh, half scared. “Don’t hate me,” he returns, “I’m sorry. I... I should’ve told you sooner, about the voice and about... about Dream.” Both of them flinch at the name. It’s something they have in common. “I’m really sorry, Tommy. Really.”

“‘S not that big a deal.” Tommy wipes his faces roughly, looking ragged. “I just flipped out. I think... I just panicked.”

Ranboo gets it. He wishes he didn’t.

“It’ll be okay,” he repeats, and hugs Tommy tighter, ignoring the throbbing of his injuries, “that’s a promise.”

And it’s a sign of how far they’ve come that Tommy returns the hug, and it’s a sign of how far they’ve yet to go when Ranboo remembers he’s down a canon life - two left, he thinks, and it’s terrifying, and he’s going to carry around a totem with him everywhere, with friends and family and enemies alike, but Tommy is okay and he’ll be okay and in a way he feels his blood as cleared the air.

Or thickened it. Tommy can’t meet his eyes when he pulls back from the hug, can’t look at him when he gets to his feet, offering Ranboo a hand up.

“I have potions,” he says, quiet, “let’s get you patched up before they scar.”

Ranboo takes his hand, a weak smile touching his face. “Thanks,” he replies, and Tommy winces like he’s been stabbed, “really.”

(In Tommy’s defense, only one of them scars.)

A month later, Ranboo traces a tiny white line over his forehead, feeling hollow. 

“What happened?” Tubbo asks from the doorway, expression creasing. “You haven’t always had that scar thing, have you?”

Ranboo smiles at him. “I made a mistake,” he replies carelessly, dismissively, “I got clumsy.”

When they meet up with Tommy that day, he doesn’t comment on it, and nobody notices how tightly Ranboo holds the totem in his free hand. 

The three of them chalk it down to trauma and paranoia, and for the most part, they’re right.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ KEEP IT ❜

with Happy Lowman.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Listen, darling… I'm sorry, but Happy doesn't want to see anyone right now. Not even you. He fell from his bike and his ego is hurt more than his leg”.

It's been three days since that conversation with Jax, stopping you at the Teller-Morrow workshop. The prospect told you about his accident. His first accident. And you would like to be with him, to take care of him, but not being his Old Lady you can't enforce your presence in the club. You aren't even sure if you have a relationship, or if it's only sex and some kind of dates on specific occasions. But, on the other hand, when they have a party you're always on his lap, or when he comes back for a trip you're his first stop.

At nine pm, you turn the welcome sign for the closed one. Turning off most of the lights of your bookstore, you play some soft music while counting the benefits, but some knocks on the glass of the main door thwart your task. Happy is there, looking as serious as always. Trying to not show emotion or worrying, you unlock the door to let him come.

“Got a minute?”

You nod, before walking back to the desk being followed by the man.

“Wanted to know how you are”.

“Tired. I had a… busy day”. You reply, grabbing a bunch of cash to count them.

He doesn't say anything else, just staring at you in holy silence. Taking note of the money, you raise your eyes towards his.

“You okay?”

He nods. You're aware of how silent he is, but now it's desperating you. You want to talk about the accident, about what happened, about why he fell down from his motorcycle, but doesn't look like he wants to talk. Biting your bottom lip, you continue with the recount of coins.

“Want a ride back home?”

You know that he's trying to compensate you for his disappearance, but it's not enough. You want to ask him about your relationship, the problem resides in that you don't know how to ask about it. Closing and locking the cash box, you keep your laptop inside your bag, before wearing your leather jacket.

“I can walk, don't wo—”.

“I want to take you home”. Happy insists without letting you finish.

Sighing, you pucker your lips. Maintain eye contacts, you can read in his orbs that no matter how much you try to deny his invitation. He's decided to take you home. Hanging your bag on both shoulders and taking your phone and the keys, you turn off the rest of the lights before setting the alarm. Wearing the helmet on your head, you sit behind him. But this time, you don't cling your arms to his waist as you used to. You don't need it, actually, but the fact is that you don't want to touch him right now. If you do it, you're going to forgive him for anything he has done, and he doesn't deserve it. You understand that he is not okay, but you are tired of being pushed away whenever he wants, to push you back again whenever he needs someone to sleep with.

The bike stops in front of your house, jumping off from it to take off the helmet and offer it to him. It doesn't seem like Happy is going to stay, so you're just standing close to him waiting for anything. He is just staring at you in silence, expecting for some works coming from your mouth. Thanks for the ride. I've missed you. I want you to stay. Can you ask for a day off? Turning around and feeling an uncomfortable and bitter tingly inside your chest, you guide your steps to your porch, praying for him calling your name. Asking you to stop. Anything. But the only thing you hear putting the key inside the lock, is the engine roaring again, leaving when you close the front door.

You can't help but throw the bag to the table and your body to the sofa. Breaking into a loud cry, you hit once and again a cushion with your hands closed in two fists. The doorbell rings, just one time. Getting up to attend it, you clean your tears with the back of your fingers, hardly sniffing. Happy is there, about to say something when you punch him on the face. Your knuckles crack, uttering a howl of pain, and shaking your hand after it. Maybe your sorrow is harder than his, but you don't care. You're about to hit him again when he grabs your wrists, pushing you into his chest.

“I'm sorry, love”. He whispers into your ear.

That's enough for you to stop stirring under his grip, letting him surround your waist with both arms. Happy is not a man who apologizes, unless he has killed the wrong person. Coming into your house, he doesn't release his grip, closing the door with a gentle kick. You're trying to not cry again, with your cheek pressed against his chest.

“Didn't mean to worry you”.

“But you did, not knowing a shit about you for almost four days”.

Pulling yourself away and taking off your jacket.

“Nothing happened”.

“You had an accident. And everything that Jax told me was that your leg was hurt. Nothing else. I didn't even know if it was true or… what. Because you didn't let me see you”.

“I needed to rest”.

You don't know how to take these words. You two have different ways of doing things, but that doesn't mean that you can't take care of him without being too intense.

“I'm sorry”. He says again.

“I need to know what you want, Happy”. You finally say, without caring if he gets nervous or not. “What we are, what you are waiting for from me. Because I'm… confused. And I promised to not catch feelings, but I did”.

He doesn't make a single move after that confession, and that hurts more than a knife on your chest.

“If you're not gonna say anything… please, leave, 'cause I feel fucking humiliated right now”. You're sobbing with your lips trembling and your eyes reddened.

“I do”. For a moment, you frown confused. “I do love you”.

Seems enough for him, but not for you, even if you're conscious of how much it has cost it for him.

“You are my girl”. He adds. “I thought you knew it”.

“No, I didn't. We just… are together sometimes… And when we're not fucking, we're in a party. Maybe three or four times we have stayed at your house to watch a movie. But that it's all”.

“What else do you want?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you think about the hundreds of answers that question has. Sarcastic ones, mostly. But then, you pay attention to the way he's talking to you with his eyes, in silence. He really wants to know.

“Spend more time together… Maybe… if you can, don't push me away when you need someone to take care of you. Even if you think you don't need it”.

Relaxing your posture, you take some steps closer towards him, cupping his cheek onto your palms. Leaning a little you kiss his lips. A gentle and lovely touch that gives him nice shivers around his chest. He nods one time.

“Can I stay tonight with you?” That whisper, hiding a painful beg, squeezes your heart.

“I want you to stay. I've missed you too much, Happy”.

A fleeting smile appears on the corner of his lips, right before kissing yours again. But his hands don't touch you, feeling some moves between your bodies. Pulling himself away some inches, the man offers you one of his golden rings. His favorite one, with a halcon etched on it.

“Keep it”.

You can't help but pout at Happy, putting it in your left forefinger. It fits perfectly. It looks perfect. And the smile it brings to your face makes Happy feel lucky for having you by his side, no matter what. Placing one of his hands on the back of your head, he pushes you a little closer to press his lips on your forehead. For a few long seconds. He's not a man of words, not even of gestures; you had to look at him for a lot of hours to learn to read his eyes. He's so expressive with them. And when he noticed that you could know what he was thinking about by just looking at his orbs, he felt blessed. But Happy is also learning to be more affectionate with you in the intimacy of your houses, or whenever you two are alone in the clubhouse. Your patience is his more appreciated-gift from you.

“I like how it sounds”. He mumbles, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. “That you love me”.

“I love you, Happy”. You repeat, making him smile again against your lips, almost brushing them with the soft move.

[mimisempai]

I love you too much to let you go

Summary:

Mobius says to himself that he did what he had to do to make Loki happy... fortunately he will come back to his senses and open his eyes.

Tumblr request : how about a break up and then forgiveness story?

Notes:

Honestly I never write break-ups, I am not fond making "my" characters suffer. I won't be doing it again anytime soon, but I hope I've met the challenge.

HAPPY ENDING!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32753194

1428 words - Rating G

Mobius rubbed his eyes, stretched, and slowly sat up. He reached out to the other side, out of habit. The space next to him was empty. Because Mobius did the right thing.

He stood up, walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. He looked at his reflection in the mirror without seeing it.

"I just think it's wiser to stop things before they go too far."

"We've been together for over a year, we've already gone too far." had replied Loki

"I am old and mortal. You have your whole life ahead of you and I do not wish to stand in your way. "

"In my way? But what way Mobius?" Mobius could sense the incomprehension in Loki's voice.

"I do not wish to be a burden to you."

"Mobius, how can you say that?" The voice was now pleading

"I'm saying that we should... that it's in our best interest to..."

"You're breaking up with me. Say it."

"Yes I want us to break up, before it hurts too much."

He saw Loki's features contort with anger. His gaze was as cold as ice.

"You'll thank me eventually...it's the right thing to do."

"How can I thank you when you are sacrificing me on the altar of your integrity, sacrificing our love on the altar of your fear.I thought you said I had the choice to do what I wanted with my life, but do you realize you just took that choice away from me? Who is now the scared little boy?"

Mobius answered nothing and stood in the middle of the living room until Loki walked out, closing the door, gently, without slamming it.

Mobius lived through that day and the next. The apartment was filled with Loki's absence, and Mobius spent more time at work to avoid feeling it. He told himself that Loki's things should be packed, but the thought of touching anything that evoked his presence made him sick.

"Go home!" HB ordered him when she realized that Mobius hardly ever went home and slept in his office.

"This is not my home anymore..." muttered Mobius.

"It's your fault" HB knew all about their breakup and had called Mobius an idiot more than once. "Go to sleep and especially get yourself a wash!"

"I'm sorry," Mobius said. He straightened up and went home.

Once the door was closed, he leaned on it and let himself slide against it. After a few seconds, he realized he was not alone and heard voices coming from the living room.

"Loki, did you even read all those books?" asked a voice Mobius knew. Casey.

"Almost all of them," Loki said with a tired tone, and Mobius froze, "The ones I didn't read were from Mobius, who..."

It was me who read them aloud to both of us.

"It must be nice to have someone take care of you like that."

"Yeah it is... unbelievable," Loki said, and Mobius could hear the clenching of his teeth.

"Mobius is great," Casey replied, "Everyone loves him."

"Sometimes that's not enough," Loki answered softly.

Casey didn't seem to hear him and continued, "To think that before he met you it was Loki-this or Loki-that, and even more so, after he met you it was the same. For anyone who knew Mobius, like me, it was crystal clear that he was completely dedicated to you. He had never put his head on the line for anyone like you."

"Shut up," Loki muttered. Mobius put his head in his hands.

What have I done?

"When you left, when you followed the variant, it wasn't the same. I'd never seen him like that in all the time I've known him. He hardly slept at all, until we found you."

"Mobius loves me, I know that," Loki said softly. "It's just... Like I told you, apparently that's not enough for him. It's not enough for him to fight."

"Loki," Casey continued, "I know most people think I'm an idiot. But you kept talking to me and being nice. So why are you letting him break up with you? You have to fight for him. You love each other. Everyone can see it, the young recruits when they hear about you, they call you the Time Lovers. For three days you've been a shadow of yourself."

"I'll have to find another light then," Loki blurted out.

Casey didn't respond and sighed.

Mobius decided it was time to make his presence known. He cleared his throat and walked toward the living room. "Good evening."

"Mobius!" Loki turned around. "I was, uh, packing up some stuff. I thought you'd be home later."

"I decided to come home early today."

Mobius realized that Loki was indeed a shadow of himself as Casey had said, and Mobius was to be blamed. The magnitude of his mistake was clear to him. He took a step towards Loki, then became aware of Casey's presence.

"Casey... do you-"

"I'm leaving." he paused, looked at Loki and said without letting out a sound, "Fight for it."

Loki nodded and Casey left.

Mobius waited for the front door to close.

"Loki, I'm sorry, I think I made a big mistake."

"You think?" Loki replied in a bitter tone.

"I'm sure of it. I lost faith in us for a while because I overheard a conversation that I probably shouldn't have. People were comparing us and saying how I was no good for you. That I was holding you back. I could only see my flaws, I could only see how I could possibly hurt you. I didn't realize...I didn't know...I couldn't see what I could offer you anymore." Mobius could no longer hold back his words, nor his tears, so desperate was he to convince Loki.

"I love you with all my being, Loki. Without you, nothing has any meaning, taste, flavor, light. And I realize that I am no longer able to live without you, so even if it makes me selfish, please Loki, come back to me."

Loki approached him and took his hand, "Mobius, how can you believe that you are not good for me? You trusted me when in the eyes of the universe I was anything but trustworthy, you saw the good in me when I had done nothing but evil, you made me want to become good, to become trustworthy, to become as you saw me. If you are not good for me, then no one is. How can you think you are holding me back when you have set me free and because of you I am no longer tied to the ground by my destiny." Tears were also running down Loki's cheeks. He continued, his voice trembling, "Even as you broke up with me I knew you loved me and I didn't stop loving you."

"Loki, I'm so sorry for the harm I may have done, for acting like a fool."

Loki shook his head, "You acted like a real idiot, but the harm you did was to both of us. You know, for a long time I thought I'd be the one to do the first stupid thing, to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing to make you want to leave me. I didn't think you would do it alone."

"I apologize with all my heart Loki."

Mobius took Loki's face in his hands and with his forehead against his, eyes in eyes, he said in a clear voice.

"I love you."

"For all time"

"Always."

"So we don't break up then?" joked Loki, who leaned in until his mouth was inches from Mobius'.

Mobius closed the distance then kissed Loki long and hard.

When they parted, Loki said softly, "I love you. I love everything about you. And I can't stand one more day of life without you. It's been a hell of a few days Mobius. I forgive you with all my heart but don't let this kind of thing break us up like this again. We've trusted each other since the very beginning, so trust me too when you doubt yourself."

"Thank you." whispered Mobius, exhaling with relief.

Loki took Mobius by the hand and led him to the couch, where he sat Mobius down, then got into his favorite position, his head in Mobius' lap, this time facing Mobius and wrapped his long arms around his waist before whispering against his stomach, "Don't ever do that to me again, Mobius. It was worse than the day I found out I was adopted, I thought my heart was being ripped out."

"Never again," Mobius promised, "I swear it to you." He leaned over and placed a long kiss on Loki's forehead.

They stayed like that for a long time, savoring the moment.

Their love had survived. _________

Whole series of oneshots here : X

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[bxllafanficc]

A world without heroes

Summary: Loki is imprisoned after the sudden attack on New York and with that, rest of the earth. And while you always thought you would have your lover's back, you find yourself unable to forgive this one. It's time for you to decide when enough's enough.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x reader

Sidenote: This was inspired by the song "A world without heroes" from KISS. I just immediately though about a moment where reader would be thrown into a deep sea of darkness after finding out the major betrayal lingering beneath many layers of Loki Laufeyson's charismatic persona.

The cold surface of the bulletproof glass is supposed to have a large impact on your wrist as the two objects collide. It's supposed to hurt but it doesn't. The glass is meant to stand and for you to give up. You're meant to lay off and calm down; meaning, stop slamming your fist into the cell like if it was going to break if you just willed your way through.

They say that if you want something enough, you possess the power to do anything. But what do you want to such an extent? More importantly, what does he want? What did he really want? Has he ever wanted any more than a throne to sit on? Or was there something more to it? Did he even know what it really meant? And if so, did he realize the consequences of his actions; not just by the billions of lives he would have destroyed, but his family, yours and especially his own as well.

A part of you wants to believe that he was under some kind of control; that he wasn't really conscious these past days. All the lives he already stole, you want to think that if he had a choice, he would've spared them. You want to believe it all so badly. You want to throw all your common sense away and just collapse into his arms. Give him a tender kiss and gaze into his eyes with lingering warmth like you used to. To forgive and forget.

But the common sense stays where it should be. You can't. Because the past days he's been imprisoned, he's confirmed every action. He doesn't even defend anything; thinks he doesn't need to. Rock-hard believing his decision was the right one to make when he really had no right.

And your eyes are no more tender and soft; but clouded and swollen, piercing through the pair of eyes on the other side of the glass. And your mouth is not tasting the sensetion of sweet lips. Only the salty wetness of your tears pooling like mad rivers.

Your chest feels heavy and about to explode. You need to scream; feel like that's the only solution to relieve the pressure. You almost feel like you're being choked. Choked on love, choked on hope, air, trust, literally everything your life has contained so far.

And the man in front of you doesn't seem to understand how your world is seemingly falling apart before him. The pure confusion in his eyes is twisting your stomach and your feel like throwing up.

"I thought I knew you."

Your sobs has quieted down. Before, you weren't able to speak very well. You just had to wait the storm out until it came rushing back ten times worse next time.

"You do, darling. You always have."

Calm as a snake and laid back. He doesn't even seem to realize that every word spoken will matter in the following moments of actions where you will decide both your fates for him.

"Did I, really? How can you look me in the eyes and say that with your disgusting pride!" You spit at the glass; aim at his feet but it doesn't seem to faze him a tiny bit. You want to bring out a reaction from him, cause maybe then, you would get some sense of honesty out of him.

"My disgusting pride? The world we're living in is disgusting and twisted. How can you even compare midgardians brutality and greediness to Asgards prosperity and beauty?"

You don't want to hear this talk again. Only a couple of years ago, you would have ignored it as just one of his endless bitter rants and thought nothing more of it, not knowing that he was actually planning to find an end to his irritation.

"(Y/n), darling, You have agreed with me on this! We agreed that humans are short minded, only good for the cause of starting a war between their own race and assassinate each other. Their petty little lives are doomed anyway."

You can't even process the amount of irony and hypocrisy seeping through his sentences. You want to scream at him. You want to hold him. You want to cry, give him a piece of your mind. But you want to fall asleep in his arms. You miss his embrace so much. Endless tiredness since he vanished, only to find he's become a monster.

Your fists attempts to break the glass once again, aiming at his perfect eyes. Those damn eyes. The same eyes you used to adore. You still do. Torn between what you want and what you should do.

"You had no right! Who are you to choose who gets to live and who doesn't?! Why should you be any different from the humans?"

Your words are no longer contained into normal conversation. Only now, Loki seems to actually start realizing the weight behind your rage.

"I did it for us, love! For you. How am I supposed to give you everything if I'm just a mere god, son of a bastard and feared of my own people. Is that the man to give you everything? Is it?"

You don't even know where the thought process of this has sparked in his mind. Never have you asked anything unusual from him, just endless trust and honesty. You have always supported him when no one else would and when nobody wanted anything to do with him. A shoulder to cry on or an ear for venting. You've heated him up with your warmth when he was feeling cold and kissed him back to health countless of times. You used to be his. In return you only asked for trust and honesty. And the funny thing? In the end, you got none of that.

"I never wanted the world, Loki! I wanted you! Couldn't you see that you were enough?"

"Why do you care about the midgardians so much? What have they done for you? Have they given you flowers when you were sad? Have they kept you company at nights where you were haunted by nightmares? Did they do any of those? Because I recall it was me who stood by you all those years!"

Why is he suddenly so angry? It makes no sense to you. When he for once speaks from his real thoughts, anger and frustration is still the feeling behind it. Even if he got his plan to destroy earth through, it wouldn't stop his burning hate.

"You speak like they are nothing but soulless objects, pawns for you to manipulate when you feel like it!"

"They need a group of unstable mutants to protect them from dangers! A bunch of heroes that they don't even really like sometimes. The heroes gets the blame of the catastrophe happening even if they are the one fighting it! Is that a society worth fighting for? Their beloved little heroes are nothing but fools."

"Everything is worth fighting for. You don't know these people, do you? And as for the people, the heroes are a beacon of hope; a sign to stand strong and come together!"

You stand quiet for a second. Your fist lowers itself against the hard surface.

"Against people like you."

You don't want to see him anymore. Heard enough. Ready to go. You've made you decision. Because how could there ever be a change to this man? When he's been hiding his true nature behind your back for so long? Did you even know who you loved? Could you even call it love?

"Did you ever love me? Or was I just being fooled this entire time?"

Concern is now displaying on him for real. Maybe he's realize where you're going; what you're about to say.

"Why would you ask that? I love you more than anything! (Y/n), please understand this! I'd do anything for you!"

"Then tell me one single moment, just one, where you've spent time with me and thought 'I could be satisfied with this. I don't need power. I'm good with what I have'."

You heart is aching with anticipation. It's almost fatal. You don't want to know but he must realize it himself before you can finish.

And you can really see how he's trying. He's trying so hard for you, he thinks. He probably thinks he's tried doing everything for you; when he really just needed not to do anything at all. And just like you guessed, there comes no words. He knows you'll see if he's lying and knows you're right. But you don't ever think he will ever regret his attack for the right reasons. Nor for you, to get you back. No, you'll never accept that.

"I can't live like this, Loki. Can't you see you're breaking my heart?"

"I didn't mean to-"

"No. You didn't mean to do it, right? That's what you're gonna say... But I've heard enough. You have made a decision. And it's about time that I make mine as well."

The realization hits him almost instantly. And all the traces of his usually calm manner were gone in an instant. He's no longer standing with hands clasped behind his back. But they're clawing and pawning at the glass keeping the two of you apart. Loneliness is the one fatal emotion he hasn't dared himself to feel for years with you by his side. But now when it all might be taken away from him in a matter of seconds? How is he supposed to react?

He's begging, pleading, punching and screaming. Sobbing and begging even more. His silvertounge can't save him now. Nothing can save him now from the unruly fate. A path he himself had laid out beneath his feet.

"Please, (Y/n) I love you! I don't want to be here alone!"

...

"Please... It's cold and dark. I can't breathe without your warmth! Just.. Please!"

You can't stand to hear any more. His pleading is too much and you've stayed enough.

Your heart feels like it's being torn in half by your own hands as you turn around, the cold of your back hitting him in the deepest depths of his despair. And it sets him off.

You're going to leave him. The only purely good thing in his life is going to leave him. Where is he going to get his hugs? It doesn't matter because they won't be from you. Is he even going to remember your face when time has passed? Will he even remember your laugh, smile or your goofy little moments together? Will you find somebody else? Forget about him and move on.

Loki doesn't want you to move on; doesn't want you to move at all. He's ready to do whatever it takes to get you to stay.

And he would, if there wasn't a thick wall between you, keeping him from you no matter how hard he slammed it or how loudly he screamed at you.

Pleading became despair and despair led to threats; the only solution left to try.

He knew it was wrong. Wrong to threaten a loved one, especially you. But he would never accept his fate knowing that he hadn't tried anything in his power to make the only thing left for him to love slip past his hands.

But a tiny part of him knows that you won't hear him. Won't listen to him like those late summer nights under the moon on a cozy blanket, you tightly wrapped into his embrace with a content smile on your face.

Or the time when a sudden attack of sorrow and anxiety hit him in the middle of the night and you held him close to your chest while whispering sweet assurances for him to fall asleep to.

You had been his anchor to the real world.

You were the only thing to keep him sane enough.

But it wasn't enough in the end.

You had been his hero.

But not even a hero could save someone's world sometimes.

Especially when he was the one ruining it.

His love.

(Y/n)

[capri-ramblings]

Queen & Chaos

An original Yandere Twst Fic.

Summary: In the Rose Kingdom, far but near, peaceful yet chaotic, a coup has overthrown its original Queen of Hearts, leaving her throne vacant and no later filled by Riddle Rosehearts, a young yet powerful mage with a ruthlessness as sharp as any blade, but the hidden sceptre he keeps near him is what terrifies people the most.

With the smile of a Cheshire cat and a glimmer of madness made only for the Hatter, You stand in-between the chaos of this Twisted world as if you're dancing to a tune only you can hear.

Pairing: Yandere Riddle X FemReader

Chapter one

Riddle woke up to the sound of thudding outside his room. The walls of his castles trembling at what seemed to be a rhythm of marching soldiers.

His eyes fluttered open and saw the ceiling first, his limbs heavy and mouth dry. He tried moving his body but found that he could not.

Instantly, his mind went back to the tea party he had earlier that day and he bitterly decided that someone had spiked his usual tea with some sort of paralyzer.

"How dare they?" The words screamed in his head, and though he had no control over his own expression, Riddle was scowling internally.

Once he knew the culprits,it would be off with their heads.

When the marching stopped and the door to his bedroom swung opened, Riddle heard a familiar voice; The current Knight Commander's.

"Is he awake?" Asked a voice Riddle couldn't recognized, hushed and timid.

The Knight Commander strode to the side of his bed,eyes narrowing at the sight of the immobile Riddle.

"He is."

There was a silence before the second voice spoke up again, somehow a tad louder and filled with rejoice.

"Then, we've done it?" They said "We've subdued the Queen of Hearts?"

A string of cheers came after that, and Riddle felt the rush of his own blood boiling within his veins. To think that there would be those who would oppose of his ruling...Riddle partially held the blame to himself. He should've been more aware. Should've kept a tighter leash on his people.

The frustration must've shown on his face somehow, because the Knight Commander seemed to hold a pitiful look in his stern eyes when he stared down at him then.

"Forgive me." Was what Riddle heard as the man took out a small dagger and placed it against Riddle's throat.

He pressed hard into his skin, would've slit his throat in that moment if the footsoldiers at the door entrance hadn't suddenly started dancing.

The Knight Commander turned his head to the group, puzzlement in his gaze as he told them to stop.

"What are you doing? The mission isn't over yet! This is no time to celebrate!"

"W-We're not,Sir!" Said one of the soldiers before he did a turn and linked his arm with another.

"We can't seem to control our bodies!"

The Knight Commander then whipped his head back to Riddle, a look of panic residing in his features.

He wanted to speak but his train of thoughts were cut off by a laugh that echoed through the halls.

"What do we have here,I wonder?" You waltzed into the room via the strings of dancing soldiers almost effortlessly. Steps light and quick whilst you switched from soldier to soldier until you came to the foot of Riddle's bed and gave the Knight Commander a curtsy as a finishing touch.

The man looked to you with a mix of disdain and horror. The realization of his mistake dawning on him harshly.

"Curiouser,and curiouser" You murmured, thoughtfully before your gaze went up to Riddle's stiff form and a smile graced your lips.

"Did the Queen of Hearts got pushed into a stalemate? I would've never thought I'd see the day, really. You're full of surprises aren't you,Your Highness?"

Your words are playful. A lilt of fondness and admiration laced in a twisted obsession.

Yes. The Knight Commander had forgotten one important detail in his meticulous plan. He had omitted your existence, and that truly was an unfortunate choice.

After all, how could a Queen rule without her sceptre?

"I would applaud you, Sir" You said, turning promptly to the Knight Commander who immediately placed his hand on the hilt of his sword while the one with the dagger tightened, its blade pressing into the nub of Riddle's throat.

Something in your stomach churned at the sight of it all. Seeing how Riddle looked ever so defenceless and how a man of great esteem was risking his and many other lives to ensue the end of a tyrannical rule.

You felt like crying. Oh,how pitiful.

How exciting.

"But I don't think an applause is what you're after"

"I am after the rights of the people" He snapped "The right to have a ruler who would not run their people down to the ground at the slightest hint of disobedience."

"Oh?" You nodded your head, an empty habit rather than an understanding gesture. "You sound so serious all of the sudden...Tell me,were you planning on killing him?"

You trailed your gaze back to Riddle,then felt the silence given to you by the Knight Commander as a form of a 'Yes'.

"Well,you can." You said "I'd let you do just that if that's what you really desire."

Riddle didn't have to say anything then for you to know he was cursing your disloyalty at the moment. The way his chest heaved heavily was already a sign of his great displeasure.

But alas, you were simply making an offer. He didn't need to be so ruffled up. He wasn't going to die, yet.

"How about it?" You prompted with your hands held in the air, surrendering. The smile you wore was so genuine, so very absent of ill intent, and yet the Knight Commander couldn't help but flinch from it. The bitter taste of cruelty dripping from the way your eyes seemed to glaze over.

"What are you implying?"

"Come now. Didn't I say it already? If that's the greatest desire you have, then I'll let you fulfill it."

"You're going to let him die?" The Knight Commander scoffed, "I know who you are, and if your reputation exceeds you then you would never let him die."

Your heart did a small flutter at that. A tinge of embarrassment causing your cheeks to flush. Did your dedication seem too vivid? Oh, how unsightly.

"He is my Queen,yes. That much is true, but in speaking of this current matter, I wouldn't really be letting him die if you agreed to my offer"

You placed your hands behind your back, stealing a quick glance at Riddle who still seemed under the influence of the drug.

"What offer?"

Your lips smiled at the question. You really thought he was going to draw out this conversation with how stoic he was, which would've ended this whole dilemma quickly since then you would've been annoyed and killed the entire group yourself.

"Oh, it's a promising one!", Your hands clapped together as you cheered this out, before the lightness of your demeanor disappeared and the room suddenly fell into a dark disposition. A swell of tension and cruelty intertwined.

"You're free to kill him and bring peace to your people as you said you would, but then I get to have your men. The entire battalion. Your army of dutiful soldiers would be my collection of dancing nutcrackers. Fair deal, isn't it?"

It was such a quick shift of mood, that when the Knight Commander hurled his sword in your direction, you almost thought you'd lose your head.

"Are you mad?" He yelled, breathless and ragged. You smiled at him oddly,head tilting.

"I'm not." You replied then grinned half heartedly. "But you seem to be filled to the brim with it,don't you? Your eyes are flaring, Commander."

"Do you think I would give my people to you? Do you take me as a desperate fool?" The tip of his sword glistened maliciously in your face, and you estimated that if he moved toward you then you'd have no chance of deflecting.

"Well, what did you expect? The price of a Queen would be an entire army wouldn't it? How could I give away something so valuable without expecting anything in return?".

"I refuse." The Knight Commander growled,his expression taut and etched with a sort of rage that had you frowning in annoyance.

"Won't you think it over a bit more at least? Your men would die if you don't choose a side."

"What?"

Ah,that seemed to catch his attention, didn't it? A small smile formed on your lips and you nodded your head again.

"It's obvious isn't it? If you choose to kill the Queen in exchange for your men, then at least one group would walk to see another day. Oh,but if you refused, then you'd all die. Which is a shame. You know I've always wanted a set of toy soldiers ever since I was young"

The force of the blade coming at you was overwhelming, but quick to slither away, you stepped within the circle of the dancing soldiers and had one of them take the first slice of the blade.

The blood curdling scream escaping the poor soldier caused the Knight Commander to seize his attack, as he watched one of his men fall the ground with a dull thud. The deep crimson of his blood soaking the wooden boards.

He stared, horrified at what he'd done before his gaze lifted and he flared his anger in your direction.

Though, when he began to move forward, you were frowning and seemed to be glaring back at him.

Or rather,behind him.

"Enough of your games."

The Knight Commander spun around a second too late as Riddle snatched the dagger from his hand and thrusted it into the nape of his neck. His cold rage tinting the grey in his eyes as he stared the man down from where he stood on his bed.

Riddle felt the last shred of energy he had left him in the breath he took to calm his nerves, and as the Knight Commander began struggling to take the blade out, he fell back onto his mattress.

"Clean this up,____" You heard him mutter out, the sound of your name on his tongue making it harder for you to stay irritated at the fact he'd ruin your fun.

Letting out a sigh, you pursed your lips.

[heyyyharry]

Can u do a drabble for flatmate where maybe they are food friends now and Harrys friends have like apologized to her and one day they all are going clubbing and they want y/n to go with them because she "doesn't know how to party like an animal" and Layla and trix get her ready in clubbing attire and when she comes out all the guys have their jaws slacked and Harry can't focus on anything else.....? Please forgive me if this is too much or if I'm being annoying😓

This might be slightly different from what you expected ☺️

.

Harry didn’t know how to feel about this.

Half of him was obviously turned on by Y/N in that tiny dress, but the fact that he wasn’t the only one drooling over her was driving him insane. And he knew exactly the person responsible for this.

“Why did you bring her here? You don’t even like her!”

Layla quickly gulped down her drink and raised an eyebrow. “Who says I don’t like her?”

“You! You say that to her face all the time!”

“Okay fine.” She scoffed, turning to look at Y/N, who was talking to Louis and Liam and a few other boys. “Thought I did you a favor. You told me to stop you from doing something stupid tonight because you don’t wanna hurt your little princess.”

“That meant keeping me from drinking too much and leaving with some girl that looked like her! I didn’t ask you to dress her in your...your lingerie and bring her here!”

“Are you gonna keep complaining to me, or are you gonna be over there to stop those fools from drooling all over my ‘lingerie’?”

“Fuck you.” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. But before he could take Layla advice and break off the crowd over there, someone else had already done his job. “Who the fuck is that dude?”

His nostrils flared as he watched the dark haired guy flirt with Y/N. He couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, but his intentions were clear in his body language.

“That’s Louis’ new roommate, Nick, I think that’s his name.” Layla pursed her red lips. “He’s a hot piece of ass—Wait, where are you going?”

Harry acted like he didn’t hear her and marched straight toward the blonde in the corner of the room. That girl had been checking him out since the moment they locked eyes when he walked in. And the only reason he hadn’t come to her was because of Y/N, but now he didn’t have to worry anymore. Y/N was obviously into that guy who was touching her hair and her arm like he was her boyfriend. Fuck. Who was Harry kidding? He wasn’t worry, he was irritated and his chest was burning up with jealousy and anger.

“Hi.” The stranger flashed him a smirk. She was bold and she knew what she wanted. She wasn’t anything like his Y/N, who was shy and would never make the first move or take a compliment without blushing. Okay, he should stop thinking about Y/N.

But he didn’t even want this blonde. He didn’t want any girl that wasn’t his flatmate. Was he trying to get back at Y/N for flirting with that guy? Would Y/N even care? Would she be jealous? Fuck it, It didn’t matter, he told himself, and then accepted the drink from the girl who was already all over him.

The red and blue lights in the club and the deafening music made him feel like his soul had left his body. He was grinding against the girl’s body. Her perfume was too strong it made his head spin. But his tongue was in her mouth and his hands were on her ass, he was too preoccupied to worry about anything else. However, that was only until he felt a hand on his shoulder, tearing him away from the girl.

Before he could ask, Niall cried out, “Y/N has a panic attack! She’s in the bathroom!”

That was all it took for Harry to run. He frantically pushed his way through the crowded dance floor, panting while trying to navigate. He should’ve seen this coming. Y/N was socially anxious, she hated overcrowding places and clearly didn’t belong here.

“Y/N!” He burst through the bathroom door and found his flatmate standing with her hands on the sink, facing the mirror. Nick, or whatever the fuck his name was, was stroking her back. Harry didn’t even think about being rude as he pushed the guy aside and gripped her shoulders.

“Harry?” Her voice was soft and trembling. Then she turned to stare at him with her worrying eyes. She looked scared, and he felt like a piece of shit. Maybe this was all his fault.

“What happened?” He asked, glaring at the guy who was clearly still in shock.

“I-I don’t know. I took her to the dance floor and—“

“It’s okay, H...” She squeezed his arm. “I felt a bit overwhelmed, but I’m okay now...”

“You’re shaking, love...” He winced and cupped her delicate face between his palms. “Gosh, I should’ve been by your side.”

“No, it’s fine. Go back to your friend.”

He knew she didn’t say it in a bitter way. She was only speaking her mind and it made his heart hurt, because she actually thought that a stranger he didn’t remember the face of was more important than her. He had been sucking that girl’s face though, he couldn’t justify that. God, he was such a dick.

“Come with me,” he said despite what she’d just told him. “Let’s go back to our place.”

“Wait, you two live together?” The guy flicked his fingers between the two of them, but Harry didn’t care. He encircled her waist, pressed her head to his chest and signaled Niall to step aside so they could walk out.

Now she was clinging onto him like he was a lifesaver. He swore that he would never let Layla take her anywhere without telling him again.

”Does she know you’re leaving?” Y/N asked innocently once they had escaped from the rowdiness of the club.

“Layla?” He arched an eyebrow and received a soft smile. His arms were still tightened around her shoulders.

“No, your friend.”

“Actually, I don’t even know her name...”

His answer left her a bit confused. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and wetted his lips. “Besides, I don’t care about her, I only care about you.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t the response he’d expected, but at least it wasn’t total silence.

“Did that guy touch you without your consent?” His next question seemed to amuse her.

Laughing, she said, “no, I don’t think his boyfriend would’ve approved.”

“Oh,” he murmured. That was the same response she’d given him. His cheeks were crimson now, but his chest felt lighter as he heaved a sigh of relief.

They kept on walking, keeping a slow pace to enjoy each other’s company before they reached his car.

“Do you like my new look?” She broke the silence with a question that turned the color of his cheeks more vibrant.

Nodding fast, he cleared his throat, trying not to stare at her cleavage. “You look very...uhm...pretty. B-but I prefer how you normally look.”

“Why?”

“It’s more you.”

When she gave him a grimace, he believed he’d offended her by that answer. However, she said, “thank God, I’m not feeling this look either. This dress is squeezing the air out of me. I’m dying to get home and change into my PJs.“

Harry had no idea why he found her answer so endearing. He had to refrain himself from pressing a kiss to her temple as he pulled her closer to his chest. Now she was telling him about this movie she wanted them to watch when they got home. But all he could think about was her calling their flat ‘home’.

[theprojectava]

The Silent War

Sooo...remember the last post s8 fix-it post I made? I wrote a little something for it (I’ll upload it on ao3, too, but I still have to make an account there).

It’s not beta read and I suck at writing stuff in English since it’s not my mother tongue. Please bear with me. :)

(Fic’s under the cut)

Our room is dark, the blinds are shut tight

And everything is still too much outside

When he left it hurt like hell. It felt like Shiro had finally run out of time. He should've said something sooner.

There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week, after this mission,when this meeting's over, promise, I'll tell him then!

The war had finally, officially ended. But not for them. The universe was in disarray – all the Galra Empire had left in its wake were ruins and ashes of whole worlds burnt to nothing. The war had never stopped and so their duties as Paladins and diplomats of planet Earth continued to tear them apart. Silently. For no one to see. Not even Shiro.

He only felt the sensation of something finally ripping, when it was too late. Keith was gone. By the time they noticed, he was already on the other end of the known universe, fighting off war criminals and rebuilding what was left of civilizations that had taken the brunt of the Empire's wrath over thousands of years. Somebody had to do it, Shiro told himself again and again. And of course it had to be Keith. This was what he was born for. The stars. If he was completely honest with himself he had always known that the younger man was never meant to stay on the ground with both his feet. The moment he had seen him so many years ago, he had known. Keith was meant to fly and reach for the stars or go crashing down with them.

But it still hurt so much. Because in spite of knowing that this day would come, he still wasn't prepared to let him go. He wasn't prepared to lose the man that meant everything to him.

Maybe it had taken him too long to realize what Keith really meant to him. That he couldn't live without him by his side. There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week... The possibility that there would be a tomorrow without Keith by his side seemed so impossible after all they went through. But maybe that's what went wrong in the end. Shiro had taken Keith for granted – a constant in his life that would always be there, no matter what. And now it was too late.

It may be over but not tonight

I may be older but I still cry

I can't stop sleeping in your clothes

You can't stop calling on the phone

Keith never reacted to any of his text messages. Whether it was because he was busy... or for a whole different reason Shiro didn't even want to think of, he didn't know. Silence was all there was between them now. With every unanswered message the hurt sunk deeper into his heart. It festered there and turned into bitterness with every passing month. He felt hollow inside. As Admiral and part of the Terran Delegation there was quite enough work on his hands to keep him busy for most of the day. But every time he'd come back home to a dark apartment and cold sheets he felt like sinking deeper into an all consuming emptiness. He should've given up trying to contact Keith by now. He knew that. In fact he should've stopped thinking about the other man every waking hour. The only problem was... he didn't know how. It was all he'd ever done.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I'm holding on, I know I'm almost there

Storm reach out and tell me that you care

It stung like a knife to the chest when he found out that he seemed to be the only one who hadn't heard of Keith for almost a year. He'd met up with Pidge at one point, visited Lance and Allura on New Altea merely two months ago. He'd even made it to congratulate Hunk on his family's new house in person... The only one who hadn't seen him ever since he left... was Shiro.

Later he'd wonder if that had been the last straw. If that was what finally broke him. When he found out Keith was back on earth for a few days without telling him, he snapped. He packed all his stuff and left his office like a raging storm. He knew he shouldn't corner Keith like that. He knew deep down, that it was wrong. Patience yields focus, remember? But he didn't care for one second. His whole body felt numb, yet at the same time so full of cold anger. He needed answers. Nobody stopped him when he mounted one of the hoverbikes and sped off into the desert. He knew exactly where to find Keith.

When he reached the shack he knew Keith was there, even before he saw the younger man's pale face in the door frame. He was hurting them. Both of them and Shiro knew. But there was no turning back from this conversation now. There was no way this could go on for any longer. Shiro already felt like crumbling to pieces, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. At this point he really believed that he couldn't hurt much more. He'd been through torture and war. He'd survived the pits. He'd survived experimentation and losing his arm. He died and came back... But there was no way he could withstand this.

The moment they started talking Shiro could already tell Keith was closing in on himself, building up walls even he couldn't tear down anymore. The telltale twitching of his hands, the way his shoulders hunched... Keith was unreadable to most people. Anyone else would've thought of him as indifferent to what was going on. Shiro, on the other hand, knew what to look for. He could read Keith like a book. And that's where the fighting began.

Being shut out felt like a slap in the face. It burnt right down to his very core.

“It's better this way”, Keith told him. “I'm sorry...”

They screamed at each other. They cried. Two thrashing animals caught in a trap, neither of them ready to go down. Ultimately, it was all in vain. Keith had made his decision, for reasons unknown. He'd take this secret to the grave if he had to. Shiro would never know what drove the former Red Paladin away from him. But his choice was final.

Tears burnt in his eyes, when he turned to leave. He never wanted to do this... But the words bubbled up unbidden, nonetheless.

“Fine... If that's what you want. I won't stop you”, he looked back at Keith and saw the exact moment the words registered and hit home. “But don't expect me to be there when you decide to come back one day.”

That day he had hurt Keith in a way, he'd never forgive himself for. There was no going back from this. The damage had been done. He left without looking back, not expecting Keith to reach out and keep him from leaving. He never did, anyway.

I'm finally sober, I see the light

The worst is over, nobody died

I'm still trying to let you go

Oh baby, please, leave me alone

A brand new war began. One that Shiro wasn't sure he'd survive – a silent war. No one else could see it, but they could feel it. There was tension wherever Shiro went, hanging in the air around him like thick rain clouds. None of his friends dared saying anything – they all knew. They had to know. Because Keith never showed up to any of their anniversaries on New Altea, again. It was a silent war and this... this was Keith's way of opening fire. Shiro embraced it. Swallowed it. And then cried it out into the darkness of his empty bedroom, when no one else would hear.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I know you wanna say you're sorry

But I don't wanna hear that story

Days bled into weeks, weeks bled into months. His heartache wouldn't fade. Shiro's chest had become an open wound refusing to heal. When was the last time he had laughed? He didn't know. All he did these days was work himself into the ground, working overtime for hours on end until he was either too tired to think or fell asleep in his office. That was until he fainted during a meeting. There's only so much sleep deprivation a human-Galra-hybrid clone body can endure.

When he came to himself again there was a man hovering over him. He remembered him from the Atlas. One of the bridge staff. What was his name again? Carl? Curtis? Curtis.

“Are you alright, Sir?”, he asked.

It's weird... how things change so fast.

Turned out Curtis was what Shiro needed. For the moment. Talking to him was easy... kissing him was easier. Easy was good for now.

They moved in together after dating for a few months. Shiro proposed after another two or three. Of course Curtis said yes. Everything was easy with him. So why did Shiro feel like he was drowning? Sending the invitations to their wedding earned him a few rounds of interrogation from his friends, especially Allura and Pidge. They'd picked up on what had occurred between him and Keith – mainly because Keith had quite regular meetings with Allura and Lance on New Altea, since he became a senior member of the Blades... At least that's what Shiro heard. Both of them knew how much Shiro was hurting, but all they could do was give him sympathetic glances. They knew why Keith did what he did. That maybe protecting his own poor heart from potential hurt was what led to them silently tearing each other apart. It hurt to watch.

Of course they sent an invitation to Daibazaal, too. Since none of them knew Keith's current location, they'd chosen to send it to Krolia instead, knowing Keith would get it, sooner or later. That was Shiro's counterblow in this cold war between them.

Always thought you'd be the one

Who always needed me

My home, you'd be my home

After the wedding, the silence only grew. As did the emptiness in Shiro's life. His marriage lasted for a whole 2 years. The time it took them to get divorced included. There were no “I told you so”s from his friends – only support and a lot of hugs. Shiro didn't know what was worse. Because he himself had known this relationship was meant to crash and burn the moment he had proposed. Maybe before.

He felt terrible. Throwing his own heart in the line of fire because he couldn't let go of someone who clearly didn't want him was one thing... Pulling Curtis into this and putting his heart on the line as well, was a whole different thing. Has he always been such a terrible human being? Could this be the reason why Keith left? Because he'd seen how Shiro hurts the people around him on purpose? There was no way of knowing now. Keith was long gone... and yet, he was still everything Shiro ever knew.

Suddenly, your memory

In time is like an enemy, so cold

Five years. It had been five years since the last time they saw each other. Back in Keith's shack. Shiro's last words still rang in his ears, loud and clear. It had taken him a year or so, until he realized he'd used the same words Adam had thrown at him, before he'd left for the Kerberos mission. It felt like a lifetime ago. Another thing in a long line of things he regretted voicing or not voicing in front of Keith. It seemed like he never told Keith the most important things. But if he did tell him anything, only the wrong things came out. Things he never wanted anyone to hear. Unfair things.

The universe, as Shiro had known it, was in shambles.

A soft ping was all it took to tilt the universe back into the right direction. It was 3:00 am. An unusual time to get notifications nowadays. Shiro had stepped back from a few positions in the past year, slowly letting others take the reins. It was time for him to go back and teach at the Garrison... Or maybe... Maybe one day he'd see the stars again. He could hear them calling already.

Another ping and he was fully awake. With half lidded eyes a grabbed his phone. The bright orange light was nearly blinding in the darkness of his bedroom. He took one look at the display and nearly dropped the device into his own face. Wha-... Was he dreaming?!

There were two messages glaring back at him, taunting him. This had to be a dream. It had to.

Keith (03:02):

Dear Shiro.... I know I fucked up royally. Fuck, I'm not good at this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's been a while..... But can we maybe talk?

Keith (03:03):

I understand if you don't want to. I'll leave you alone if you don't want to see me. But I... I can't do this any longer.

Shiro's heartbeat was deafening. Blood rushed in his ears. He had to pinch himself to make sure this wasn't another cruel dream.

This was happening. This was really happening. It had been five years. Five years of silence.

His fingers moved before he could even register what was happening and pressed “send”.

Shiro (03:05):

Don't be. We both did a lot of fucking up. We can talk whenever you want.

It took about ten minutes and Shiro was ready to dose off again, when his phone went off. It wasn't a text message this time. But a video call.

“Hey.”

A single word. It only took a single word... His voice was tinny and rougher than he remembered. His hair had gotten longer. Long enough to be braided actually. There was an edge to his face that hadn't been there when Shiro last saw him. But it was Keith. Sweet, beautiful Keith.

“Hey”, Shiro replied, his voice raspy and thick with emotions.

They talked. They actually talked. At 3:00 am. Not about what happened between them, not about the reason why Keith left, not about Shiro's marriage or divorce. But they talked about small things, like Keith's latest mission or that annoying woman from the canteen who didn't get the message Shiro was into men. But who could blame her? Ever since Curtis Shiro had never tried dating again.

When they finally hung up it was with the promise of meeting up when Keith got back to earth next month. It was almost 5:00 am. Neither him nor Keith had said it out loud, but it hung between them, so thick it was almost palpable.

“I miss you.”

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Meeting Keith after all this time was like finally, finally putting the shards of his universe back together. Like finally laying their weapons down and calling off the war they had started on that fateful day in the shack.

It was awkward at first... until it wasn't.

One touch, a simple hand on a shoulder kind of touch, was all it took to open the gates to a flood. There were tears. Lots of tears. Tears of joy and sorrow, of forgiveness and apology. Years worth of silence were shattered by a flood of words. Once they started they couldn't stop. Hugging each other and holding on tight, never wanting to let go ever again.

“I'm so sorry”, whispered Keith in between ugly sobs. “I'm so, so sorry. I thought-... I thought-”

“Shhh”, Shiro tried to calm him, tightening his hold on Keith. But the younger man wasn't having it.

“No-... No, you have to hear this.”

He leaned back a little until he could look into Shiro's eyes. His eyes were red and still full of unshed tears.

“I'm sorry I ran”, Keith tried again. This time his voice was steadier. “I didn't know what to do. I thought... After the war you... You deserved better.”

“Better?”, Shiro frowned. “Better than what?”

“Me.”

At that moment it felt like Shiro's heart would burst out of his chest.

Before he could say anything Keith continued: “I... I thought after all you've been through, you deserved a life far away from war and fights and-... I knew I couldn't give you this.”

Another sob rocked Keith's lean body. He'd bulked up a little over the past few years, but he still felt so small and fragile in Shiro's arms.

“I never wanted to hurt you. But... I was afraid... Of hurting myself.”

There was a moment of silence. But a different kind of silence – a pleasant one. Finally, finally Shiro understood.

“You were trying to protect your heart”, he whispered.

Keith's eyes went wide for a second. But he nodded nonetheless. There was nothing left for him to lose. He'd lived five years without Shiro by his side... He'd been through hell already. All because he couldn't just tell Shiro how he felt.

“Well”, the corners of Shiro's mouth turned up into a soft smile. “there's no need to. Never was.”

Again Keith's eyes went wide, his brows rising almost comically high. Slowly, to give him enough time to pull back if that wasn't what he wanted, Shiro leaned down, until their lips were almost touching.

“I never told you this. I never found the right moment... and then you were gone”, with every word their lips brushed against each other. Keith closed his eyes. “Maybe I can tell you now.”

And with that he closed the distance between them.

Kissing Keith was everything he ever imagined it would be... and still so much more. The soft, warm feeling of his lips, the slow drag of his tongue against Shiro's bottom lip were intoxicating. He was done for. He knew that the moment he had to lean back and take a breath. He already missed the warmth of Keith's lips on his.

“I love you.”

The confession left his lips and he couldn't stop. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Tears filled the younger man's eyes again.

“I love you, too.”

For the first time in years it felt like there was a silver lining at the horizon.

They could to this. They could make this right. It had taken them five years, but finally, finally the universe seemed whole again.

The war of silence was finally over.

Song: “Recovery” by LP