#even if they’re just circles here haha

[mirasorastone]

@phantomarine I drew one of my favorite chapter openings in a stained glass motif as an artfight attack! - I like to think that the story of this moment will end up in a church window dedicated to Cheth one day…

[wonyopout]

danjangz wet messy sex doggy style thank you that’s all

short drabble thing bc i still can’t write for shit but

[cw]: gp wony (briefly), somno (again briefly)

my favorite roomies who Are fucking raw, but no danjangz are so sweet and attentive with each other 🥹 and like wony said they’re a couple that’s been together for 6 years and i believe her yup yup. like lingering hugs and holding hands longer than they needed to. gaeul having to fight herself to not stare at wonyoungs lips whenever she’s speaking omfg, it was definitely wony who made the first move too, all shy like “you like me the most right?? more than anyone else?” like gaeul is down bad but wonyoung is down Horrendous, constantly being like ‘omg we look like such a couple here haha’ 🧍‍♀️just for gaeul to go “yessss a couple of bestiess” (genuinely wonys 13th reason) before she finally just jumps the gun and tells her how she feels. from then on they’re like a million times more insufferably coupley

danjangz dryhumping YAYYY whiny baby wonyoung who always begs for sex like Always and sometimes doesn’t even say anything just starts humping gaeul like a naughty puppy 😭 they’ll just b relaxing on the couch watching something on gaeuls phone and then wony will just start absentmindedly rutting against her side and quietly whimpering in her ear 🥴 pussy throbbing n so wet that the crotch of her shorts is damp,, like at first it was like spur of the moment/ only when they’re making out but now it’s whenever they get their hands on eachother sometimes wony wont even notice until gaeul climbs on top of her to lock their legs together and scissor still not bothering to get undressed auughhhhhh also just like a looot of touching they’re so handsy with eachother 🥺 and a lot of the time it’s innocent like wony poking and pinching gaeuls cheeks,, gaeul petting wonys head or playing with her hands. but other times it’s wonyoung grabbing at the other girls breasts, tugging on/sucking her nipples into her mouth or gaeulie cuddling wony, rubbing soft circles on her clit as she falls asleep sometimes just fulling fingering her when she sleeps to hear the wet sounds her pussy makes 😵‍💫😵‍💫 also.. danjangz cock/clit warming anyone?? just me ok.

they’re sooooo mutually obsessed with each other u can’t tell me otherwise like gaeul constantly giving wony messy kisses, sucking on her tongue and licking their shared spit off her chin, giving her a peck n going “open wide, baby” before spitting in her mouth ACK 😵‍💫 and wony is definitely pushy and needy when it comes to kissing also 😙 wony being so into body worship with her unnie 🫠🫠 constantly complimenting her in and outside the bedroom/caressing every bit of bare skin she shows, like to others it just looks like wonyoung pulled gaeul into a nice hug but she’s rubbing soft circles on her exposed hips with her thumbs and whispering how bad she wants to fuck her 🥴 like , “unnie, we could just run to the bathroom really really quick no one will even notice” will give gaeul her bestest pout when she begs hehe saying shit like “wanna feel you clench around my fingers so badly, want your tits in my mouth please i promise i’ll make you come quick 🥺🥺🥺” gaeul Cannot refuse any demand her baby makes n it also doesn’t help that they constantly want to be around each other like 80% of the time it’s them whispering in eachothers ears and giggling while everyone else just kinda stands around awkwardly and pretend they don’t notice

like i said before, danjangz wet messy sex 🔛🔝and i mean Messy, gaeuls thighs n cunt and wonyoungs face covered in her slick,, wonyo face getting even slicker bc she keeps going back for more mumbling abt how she needs to “clean her up” 🥴 gaeul shaking from how many times she’s came already but she just can’t get wony to let up.. guys Guys danjangz high sex aughdjdjkdkd (this is like.. a millisecond of gp wony bc well. teehee) like whenever they get high they’re bound to start fucking like animals, dry humping while high🥹🥹 fumbling around to try n get their clothes off,, they give up after wonyoung manages to get gaeuls top n pants off( lucky for wony she barely wears a bra when they’re at home😋), and push wonyoungs boxers n pants down far enough to pull her fat dick out 🤤 just pulling gaeuls underwear to the side to rub her shaft between her folds. rubbing her tip against her entrance before teasingly pushing just the head in. it’s a little game of chicken they play seeing who’ll crack first 🤭 gaeul knows better than to try and be greedy and push her hips back against wonyoung knowing full well she’ll pull out completely if she does. instead she pushes her face further into the couch pillow, quiet pants and whines leaving her mouth as her walls clench around what little bit of wonys cock is inside her. wonyoung, eyes rolling into the back of her head, shoving her dick in further at the feeling (she always cracks first) the feel of the stretch alone makes gaeul go a little dumb, drool seeping into the pillow under her as she continues to let out whimpers. hips meeting with wet smacks, strings of precum n slick whenever she pulls her dick out before slamming back in,, gaeul panting “fuck-! be a good girl and cum inside your unnie” wonyoung so pussy whipped she’s slack jawed while she’s pounding away at her cunt 😵‍💫

a lot of the times they fuck it’s more laid back and vanilla, lots of giggling and just wanting to be close to one another. gaeul taking her time with wony spread out on the bed, legs over her shoulders as her fingers stretch her out, tears in her eyes as she arches off the bed, whining so pathetically, so sleepy but wanting it so badly, physically cannot stand not being able to touch gaeul back and pulls her up so she can kiss along her neck and shoving her hand down her shorts to play with her clit “does- hah fuckk, does fucking me really make you this wet, unnie?” gaeul not even bothering to answer and just leans into her biting wonyoungs shoulder to stifle her moans while they both work each other up 🫠 also danjangz mutual masterbation 🔛🔝 they’re matching each other’s freak yall i promise you that, just two pretty switches with piss kinks WOAH WHO SAID THAT?? sometimes gaeuls just wonyoungs little rope bunny and other times wonys gaeuls perfect pet who’ll do anything to be praised 🥺🥺

[bunnliix]

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Based on a dialogue prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting, and I thought Yungi as a duo fit it.

This was so fun to write, and if it's not already a little obvious, I enjoy writing college AUs haha. They're fun to write, as I'm in college myself.

prompt: “You’re both so smart and yet so stupid.” word count: 2.4k warnings: Mingi and reader being stupid, Yunho being the kinda smart one, worries about unreciprocated crushes, a smattering of angst

The three of them had been friends since their first day of highschool. Well, Mingi and Yunho had been friends since childhood, but they met and basically adopted y/n into their little circle almost instantaneously after they had met in their homeroom. It was an interesting friendship in the eyes of most others, Yunho being the outgoing member of the group, while Mingi and y/n were the introverts, but it worked for them, and they had all decided on going to the same university after high school. That’s how they got to this point, being second years in university, Yunho pursuing an English degree, Mingi with his music degree, and y/n with her history degree. 

With how different their degrees are, they rarely had classes together now that they’re all second years, but they took care to see that their schedules all matched up at least once a week, which usually meant lunch breaks together. They all looked forward to seeing each other, though y/n sometimes dreaded them.

Since their last year of high school, y/n had developed massive crushes on both boys. She couldn’t help it, they were attractive, and honestly they ticked every box on her checklist of what she wanted in a boyfriend. She’s never said anything to either boy, fearful of what would happen to their friendship, and she could never give up a friendship for a relationship. She’d prefer shoving her feelings about them into a box forever, than risk it all, risk the trio’s friendship for her crushes. She didn’t think she’d be able to choose one of them anyways, her love was for both of them, not just one.

Even if she was able to choose, she didn’t want to think how that would impact her friendship with them, or their friendship with each other. So she kept her mouth shut, and enjoyed their friendship, ignoring her own yearnings for more.

She was currently sitting down in the quieter part of the university’s food court, waiting for her two friends to arrive. Her class had gotten out early, and so she decided to wait at the food court, so that they had a good table. She didn’t have to wait long for her two boys to show up, as she saw them walking towards her, smiles on their faces. 

“Hey! Did you wait long for us?” Mingi asked as they both sat down.

“I didn’t, I got here maybe five minutes ago?” She said, voice going higher at the end as she was unsure of how much time had passed.

“Oh that’s good. Both of our classes ran a bit late, so we were worried that you’d be waiting a long time.” Yunho said, relieved that she hadn’t waited long.

“I’d wait forever for you both, so you don’t have to worry about that.” She told them, before realizing how that could be taken, and a light blush appeared on her face.

Yunho immediately realized the non-platonic meaning of her words pretty quickly. His friend hadn’t been that subtle with her feelings, he knew that she liked both Mingi and himself, but knew that she’d never say a word about how she felt. He knew both himself and his friend felt the same way, but Mingi, oh sweet Mingi was so oblivious. The man may be a genius at producing and creating music, but he was so dumb when it came to matters of love. 

Yunho himself, has loved Mingi for almost as long as they’ve known each other, and y/n, since their second year of highschool. He had the same dilemma y/n was facing after he realized his crush on her, not sure of how to reconcile with wanting both of them, wanting to be with both of them. This led him into finding out what polyamory was, and after a lot of learning, he’s okay with his feelings, though like y/n, a bit too scared to change their dynamic.

Mingi was just dumb when it came to love, at least when it came to recognizing that others felt the same way. He knew very well his own feelings, that he’s loved both of his best friends for years now. He was the first to fall for both of them, and he’s been quiet on the topic of his crush on Yunho, but he’s spoken to his friend about his crush on the third part of their trio, and his fears on how if he said anything, that maybe she’d say no, or it would just destroy their entire friendship, and he couldn’t bear doing that, so he stayed quiet on the matter. 

So the three of them all stayed silent on their feelings, even if they knew the feelings of the others. 

Regardless of that, they spent their time between classes catching each other up on their class antics or drama, as well as bemoaning their homework and assignments, as always. Y/n was saddled with the heaviest workload of the three, from a writing aspect. Yunho wasn’t too far behind, however, and Mingi got off the lightest, but instead he had a lot of work that relegated him to the studio instead. 

“Well, back to classes it is.” Mingi groaned.

“You’re going to come over after your classes are done, y/nnie?” Yunho looked down at her, and she nodded to confirm. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna head over to your guys’ place right after my class lets out.” She told them.

“What way are you both heading?” She asked, since they usually split up from the table, but they were so engrossed in conversation that they all continued walking out of the hall.  

“We’re both heading this way, I think?” Yunho answered for both of them, Mingi nodding along in agreement.

“Oh! I am too! So we can keep talking today.” Y/n commented, happy.

This brought a smile onto the two boys’ faces, honestly whenever she smiled, they had to, her smile was contagious. It brought them so much joy to see her happy, and for them, that’s what mattered the most. 

Since y/n’s class was the first they passed, the two left her there after saying their goodbyes, before heading towards Yunho’s classroom.

“Her smile makes me swoon, Yunho. I’m so fucking screwed. I’ve been screwed since the moment she walked into our lives, and I’m not sure what to do.” Mingi confided in Yunho as they walked down the quiet hallways of the English department. 

“Why don’t you say something to her? You’ll never know how she’ll react unless you say something to her.” Yunho advised Mingi, but also felt saddened that the man he was in love with, maybe didn’t love him back. Why else would he constantly talk about his crush on y/n with him, if the man didn’t see him as just a friend. Eventually, Yunho had to head into class, which left Mingi to head to the studio by himself. 

A while later…

Yunho had opened the door to his and Mingi’s apartment, and after removing his shoes, walked over to their couch and flopped down on it. He was so tired from today, and honestly, he couldn’t stop thinking about his two best friends, they were both so pretty today. He just wanted to kiss them both senseless, but they just had to be so fucking oblivious, didn’t they?

He laid on the couch groaning over the stupidity of his crushes until he heard the door open, looking up to see both of them walk in. Of course they both entered at the same time, think of the devils and they shall appear, it actually works. 

“Oh, Yunho, you got back earlier than us!” Mingi commented after seeing the taller man on the couch.

“I got here about five minutes ago, so I haven’t been home long.

Y/n came to sit on the couch by his feet, having dropped her bag by the door. She smiled over at him, before moving her feet to place them on either side of Yunho’s legs. This moved the man to push himself up on the couch, to give her more room to spread out.

“How were your classes?” He asked her, to which she just shrugged.

Her classes had been boring, and besides she barely paid attention in them. The only thoughts running through her head that afternoon were how much she wanted to say something to them, to tell them about her feelings. Her train of thoughts started down the spiral of every bad thing that could happen if she spoke about how she felt, and she brought her legs into her chest and rested her head on them, unable to look Yunho in the eyes any longer. 

Yunho frowned at seeing her curl into herself, and once Mingi returned to the living room, so did he.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you like this?” The music major asked her, kneeling down next to her.

Hearing the concern from her crush only made her feel sadder, knowing that she was only a friend, that his concern for her came from friendliness, nothing more. She shook her head, unable to open her mouth, if she spoke she’d spill everything. She felt her head get tilted upwards, but she kept her gaze down, not having the courage to look at either of them.

“Y/n, look at me, please.” Yunho pleaded with her, and it worked. She couldn’t bear to hear him sound so sad.

“Talk to us, sweetheart.” He asked her.

She shook her head. “It’d ruin everything. I can’t.” She said, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked up at him and Mingi, who had moved to Yunho’s side. 

“What are you talking about? You’re not going to ruin anything Y/nnie. We promise.” Mingi promised her, tears gathering in his own eyes at seeing her cry.

Yunho breathed in, knowing exactly why she was like this. God, Mingi and her were so similar it hurts him. They’re both so filled with fear at ruining things, when he knows that none of them would let that happen. They were both so stupid when it came to love, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud, though he immediately regretted it as he saw y/n face fill with hurt.

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry for laughing, but I couldn’t help but laugh at you and Mingi.” Yunho told her, eyes filled with sincerity.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Mingi questioned, confused but a little upset.

“You’re both so smart and yet so stupid.” Was all Yunho said at first.

“Yah! What do you mean by that?!” Mingi exclaimed, hitting Yunho in the shoulder.

“You’re both pining after each other, and you’re both too blind to see it!” He revealed their crushes on each other, while being sad that one of his crushes may not be reciprocated. 

“I have a crush on you too!” “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids!” Y/n and Mingi blurted out as they looked at Yunho, who in turn was shocked that they both were in love with him too.

“Well I guess that makes three idiots in love.” Y/n said, recovering from the shock of it all first. 

“I guess it does.” Yunho said, blushing.

Mingi pulled Yunho into a searing kiss, relieved that he was finally able to do so after so many years, as y/n watched, getting a little hot and bothered from watching them. Her crushes actually liked her back.

When the boys pulled back for some air, Yunho reached out to y/n, and the girl grabbed his hand and let him pull her closer to the two. Mingi ran his fingers through her hair as Yunho leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Why does he get a kiss and not me?” She whined, to which Mingi quickly shut her up with a kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist. Yunho bit his lip as he watched them, eyes wide.

Y/n returned the kiss wholeheartedly, but let Mingi take control, knowing she’d never overpower the taller man. Fuck, this is what she’s dreamed of for years and it’s finally happening. She never wanted this moment to end, but as he pulled away for air, she found that she didn’t mind as much, since Yunho swooped in to kiss her himself. She was in heaven right now, she couldn’t be happier than she was in this moment, in between her two crushes, who liked her back and she finally felt all the weight and anxiety over this fall away, replaced with unadulterated happiness.

She slowly pulled away from Yunho when she was just about out of air, but smiled at him as she pulled back enough to look at the two of them.

“So, now that we’ve all revealed our feelings, what does that mean for us?” She asked.

“I’ve wanted to date you both for years. So I’d like to have you both as my girlfriend and boyfriend, respectively.” Yunho said, looking at both of them.

“That’s what I want too.” Mingi piped up, and they could still see some tears in his eyes.

“Well, we’re all on the same page then, it seems. I finally have the two boyfriends of my dreams.” She said, giggling to herself at the end.

“It’s not gonna be too different from how we normally act, just a bit more touching and maybe some kissing too.” Yunho said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Lots of kissing, if I have my way.” Mingi smirked, suddenly gaining confidence now that everything was out in the open.

Y/n blushed at that thought, she felt like kissing would be the least of her worries with these boys as her boyfriends. Mingi was already shaping up to be a menace of a boyfriend, and she was sure Yunho would be the same, if not a bit sweeter. Mingi laid on top of her, squishing her as she protested, saying that she’s getting crushed. Mingi responded by peppering her face with kisses, before ending it with a kiss on her lips.

“Okay, let’s not crush our girlfriend, yeah?” Yunho, ever the voice of reason, said as he pulled Mingi off of her. 

He pulled the slightly shorter man until Yunho’s chest was touching Mingi’s back, and Mingi beckoned her to come join them. She laid chest to chest on the music major, and smiled up at him and Yunho. This was how they spent the rest of the night, touching each other in some way, even after they had to get off of the couch. Oh, and lots of kissing of course, that was a given with Mingi around.

[missaengg]

Ice Skating with Crown

8 Days Until Christmas: Ice Skating Made for Ikemen Advent hosted by @queengiuliettafirstlady and @candied-boys A/N: Much thanks to @wistfulwanderingone for helping me brainstorm and for her contribution to Elbert's section!! Thank you for keeping me sane haha ❤️ Featuring: All of Ikevil and Robin Tags: humor Word Count: 1273

William Rex

Graceful. 

So fucking graceful. Seriously, how is it possible for one man to look like a swan on a serene lake? To look so majestic no matter what he does? Pretty sure he either had lessons growing up or had a lot of practice because this was a regular activity for him because the man skates like he’s had figure skating lessons. He skates backwards. He skates forwards. He does spins. He does jumps. He makes it look easy. And he doesn’t even break a sweat! His clothes don’t bunch or wrinkle. His hair doesn’t have a lock out of place.

It should be a crime to look as good as William does when he skates. Seriously, it’s not fair.

Harrison Gray

Bored out of his mind.

It’s clear he doesn’t want to be here in the cold with skates on his feet going in circles inside what can essentially be considered a fish bowl. He skates languidly along the perimeter, breathing out the occasional resigned sigh. His skating is just as boring as he feels. The unchanging steady pace. The repeating of the same actions. Push off with one foot, glide until he loses momentum, repeat. Push off. Glide. Push off. Glide. Just circle after circle around the rink.

The whole thing is too troublesome for him, and to make matters worse, the snack bar doesn’t have any strawberry milk.

Liam Evans

Daredevil. Speedster. Snack bar fiend.

He’s a magenta-colored blur zipping around the rink, hurtling forward as fast as he can. The wind blows back his hair. A fanatical gleam in his rose-colored eyes. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he attempts to mimic the moves William pulls off in the center, but of course, fails miserably because he’s not a trained skater. He also doesn’t really know how to stop, meaning he’s barreling into the other skaters and knocking both of them to the hard ice. He has to be patched up by Roger a few times for various cuts and bruises.

When he’s not whipping around the rink, he’s at the snack bar buying way too much candy and getting a sugar rush, which he has to burn off with another round of haphazard skating.

Elbert Greetia

Only there because of Alfons.

Elbert spends most of his time staring at William and asking, “Alfons, is Will beautiful when he skates?” 

Doesn’t skate on his own. Elbert has to be pulled around the rink by Alfons like a child, yet somehow still manages to look hauntingly beautiful. He’s obsessed with the figure skating costumes on some of the figure skaters practicing in the center, captivated by the sparkle of the rhinestones. Has to be saved from looking like a creep by Alfons because he tries to approach the young women and offer them a ridiculous amount of money to buy their outfits.

Notices you struggling to even stand in your skates, and for some unknown reason asks, “Al… Is Robin beautiful?”

To which Alfons laughs hysterically and replies, “She looks like a governess who mistook the ice for a polished parquet floor and a waltz partner. So no, unless you think that’s beautiful.”

Alfons Sylvatica

Elbert’s keeper. Incorrigible flirt.

Is very tempted to answer yes when Elbert asks if William is beautiful because that would be an entertaining exchange to watch. He doesn’t though. Not because they’re in public, that would just add to the entertainment factor. It’s because even though he tries to hide it, he actually cares for the taciturn blonde.

When not looking after Elbert, Alfons brazenly sidles up to you, whispering suggestive comments about what he’d like to do to your — *ahem* — kitty and finding great amusement in watching you nearly face plant as your face turns red in indignation.

Roger Barel

Crown’s Liam’s doctor and overall trickster.

Roger skates like a hockey player. He’s a bit of a show-off, complete with weaving in and out between the other skaters at high speeds and spraying ice when he skids to a stop. He thinks it’s great fun to scare the living shit out of you by coming up from behind and grabbing your shoulders with that shit-eating grin on his face, laughing boisterously when you almost fall on your ass, much to your chagrin. Your heart may have stopped a few times because of his antics.

When he’s not on the rink scaring the living daylight out of you, he’s on the sidelines patching up curious kitty Liam and only Liam because he’s the only one who has managed to hurt himself whilst skating.

Ellis Twilight

Residential good boy.

Sweet, baby boy Ellis is the one helping other skaters they fall, offering them a hand to pull them back up. He’s helped so many people that he’s mistaken as one of the employees with skaters coming up to him if they need any help.

Surprisingly graceful when he skates — though not as graceful as William — covering a lot of ground despite not skating very fast because of his long legs. He’s the only member of Crown who tries to teach you how to skate, doing the thing where he holds your hands and leads you around the rink while he skates backwards. He also tries to fend off the more mischievous members of Crown, but isn’t able to stay by your side the whole time.

Jude Jazza

Nowhere to be found.

Jude only came because Victor strong-armed him into attending. He disappears as soon as the group arrives at the ice skating rink, and can be found outside chain smoking cigarettes, grumbling about how the entire outing is stupid and a waste of time. 

When he sees Liam hurt himself, he gets a sadistic, wicked gleam in his amethyst-colored eyes. He seeks out the owner of the establishment and threatens them with a lawsuit unless they comp the entry tickets and the skate rentals. The owner complies immediately because Jude is so god damn terrifying, especially when his eyes narrow into slits, glaring at you as if his eyes alone can cut you into a million tiny pieces.

Also uses this to negotiate free snacks for the group.

Victor

The Mom.

The first thing Victor does is to buy a round of hot chocolate for everyone saying something about how they need to stay warm so they don’t catch a cold, but is devastated when Harrison, Roger, and Jude choose not to partake. He encourages his lovely Crown members to be free in their skating and follow the wicked desires in their hearts, even if it leads to havoc… aka Liam.

He doesn’t skate, but watches over them from the sidelines, happy and gleeful that his “children” seem to be enjoying themselves — for the most part, which for Crown means that it’s a relatively successful outing.

Already planning the next one. Sledding? Skiing? Something snow related. After all, it’s almost Christmas!

Robin

Skating? What’s that?

You wobble on your skates like a newborn calf, clutching the railing for dear life and creeping along inch by inch trying not to fall on your ass. Until Alfons, Roger, or Liam knock you over, and you’re sliding on your tailbone wondering what the hell just happened while they laugh like the assholes they are. Except Liam. Liam’s about to cry while he apologizes profusely over and over again even after you reassure him you’re okay.

Massaging your bruised butt and stiff muscles, you wonder why the hell you thought this would be a great idea when Victor first mentioned it because let’s face it… you’ve never skated before in your life! 

Thank god for Ellis.

[lonely-cowboy]

in memoriam ↠ coriolanus snow masterlist. main masterlist.

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader (brief coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird) summary: after being caught cheating in the hunger games, coryo comes to you for comfort. it's only then that you realize he may not be the best person for you. word count: 2.3k warnings: kinda manipulative and bitchy coryo :/ we are NOT hating on lucy gray here it's not her fault it's his

author's note: can y'all tell i've been listening to good luck babe! by chappell roan on repeat? anyway! i wanted to do this with lucy gray but decided she was too sweet (HAHA hozier reference) to do this to reader so now we get mean coryo rip

You were the first person Coriolanus had run to once his cheating in the 10th Hunger Games had been discovered. Dean Highbottom had confronted him with a choice: serve twenty years as a Peacekeeper or have this scandal revealed to the public. He chose the former, of course; to have such disreputable knowledge revealed to the public would only tarnish his efforts at presidency. So a Peacekeeper it was.

Distraught over being caught, Coriolanus sought immediate comfort: you. He didn’t run to you because your love was the only thing that could put him at ease. Of course not, he didn’t love you the same way you did him. Though that wasn’t to say he didn’t care for you. In his own twisted and possessive way, Coriolanus cared for you more than he could any other human being. But the reality– one that you refused to believe– stood that Coriolanus did not see a future with you. You were merely someone who gave him the attention he relished. You were a reminder that he could be adored by the people, a reminder that he deserved everything good in the world. A reminder that Snow lands on top.

And so it was you he sought comfort from, knowing you would not shame him and instead find some overly optimistic, symbolic meaning behind it all. It would help him understand the hardships of presidency, you would say. You would remind him that “President Snow” was not just a childish dream but a truth that could be seen in the near future.

Alone in your family’s penthouse, you were startled by the sound of an authoritative knock. When you opened the door, there stood Coriolanus with his intense gaze already locked on your own. To anyone else, Coriolanus might have looked like his usual self. His shoulders were back, adding height to his already towering frame. His chin was raised in a way that, even to someone taller than he, it seemed as if he was looking down at you. 

But you knew better. You could see the way he slouched just the tiniest bit, the way his seemingly relaxed fingers were tense with the desire to curl into fists. And that look in his icy stare… like he loved nothing in this awful world that had betrayed him so cruelly.

“Coryo, why–?”

“They’re sending me to the districts,” Coryo interrupted, slipping passed you and into your penthouse.

“Who?” you questioned with a furrowed brow. 

You ignored the irritation that bubbled deep in your chest at Coryo’s pompous behavior. Since the Reaping, it had been something you felt a lot around him, though you remained in denial. Surely you could never be annoyed with Coryo, that boy you loved so deeply you would continue to be by his side, even when he didn’t want you.

“Highbottom, Gaul, all of them,” he growled as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Seeing Coryo in such disarray, you were quick to turn to your nurturing nature. With a hand resting lightly on his shoulder, you guided Coryo to sit beside you on the couch. You kept your hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee to rub soothing circles. 

“Why?” you asked with obvious confusion, finding it weird that a victor should be celebrated by going to the districts.

“Highbottom…,” Coryo paused as he gathered the right words, lip pursed slightly in that calculative manner of his. “Didn’t appreciate my methods to win. He’s sending me away to serve twenty years as a Peacekeeper.”

You didn’t question what Coryo meant by his “methods.” You couldn’t comprehend his elusive answers, and you didn’t much care. Not when he was leaving the Capitol for twenty years.

“Twenty years, Coryo…” you murmured in disbelief, eyes glazing over as you processed what this could mean for you and him. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow,” Coryo whispered, his jaw clenched so tightly you feared it might snap off. “Twenty years away from home… away from you…”

Your eyes focused on Coryo again, a small smile gracing your lips. To hear he was saddened over leaving you… there was something achingly heartwarming in that. You only hoped it meant he would think of you while he was away, every day.

“I’ll be here when you return,” you promised.

Coryo glanced at you then, his smile matching yours. There was a wicked glint in his eyes, feeling satisfied that, no matter what, you would always belong to him. He could marry another, but you would still be his. Maybe even you would marry another, but you would still be his. Though Coryo’s possessiveness would never allow you to marry another. You would always be his. Funny, that is: you were his, yet you could never have him.

Coryo turned to face you fully, his hand covering yours as it sat on his knee. His other hand slowly snaked its way up your arm to cradle your face. His face was so close, you could feel his warm breath on your lips.

“You’ll wait for me?” he asked.

“Of course,” you answered breathlessly.

A sly smirk crossed Coryo’s lips as he inched forward. His lips brushed against your own, but you dared not move.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Coryo breached the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. His kiss was uncharacteristically sweet, mouth moving slowly and lovingly against yours. But his hold on your face was tight, keeping you pressed close to him. You were his and his alone. 

When Coryo pulled back, he kept his forehead resting against yours. His grip remained firm; always such a powerful hold.

“I’ll miss you,” Coryo continued in that sweet voice, one he used so rarely. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you… Write to me, won’t you?”

“Of course, Coryo,” you mumbled with a nod. “I’d write to you every day if you asked me to.”

A breath of a laugh escaped Coryo’s lips. “Then write to me every day.”

You nodded again as a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, both smiling with warmth as you held each other tightly. It was a distraction to you both. Held in each other’s arms, you didn’t have to think of the next twenty long years that awaited.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do in District 12, but I’ll–”

“District 12?” you interrupted, pulling back so suddenly that it surprised Coriolanus, leaving him with a creased brow. “How do you already know your assignment? Peacekeepers aren’t given their assignments until the day of their deployment.”

Coriolanus paused for no more than a second, but it was enough. He was never one to pause. The few times he had given pause had always been in times where he was caught in a lie.

“Highbottom told me–”

“No, he didn’t,” you dismissed, shaking your head slowly as you studied Coriolanus suspiciously. “You don’t know your assignment. Why did you say District 12?”

Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest, not out of fear for his answer, but because you already knew it.

No matter how greatly Dean Highbottom hated Coriolanus, he had no control over his assignment. And no one in their right mind– unless they were interested in a public shaming– would choose to send someone as high-standing and self-righteous as Coriolanus to District 12, especially not after he was so widely celebrated as Victor of the Games. There was only one way Coriolanus could find himself in District 12: he chose to go.

At least, that was his plan. Tomorrow, you surmised, he would head to the train station where he would be assigned his district of deployment. It was unlikely he would get District 12, but if he asked oh-so-sweetly, he was sure to get what he wanted. Because Coriolanus Snow always got what he wanted. And what he wanted was Lucy Gray.

He was going to follow Lucy Gray to District 12.

You pulled further away from Coriolanus as the realization set in. There it was again, that bubbling anger in the pit of your stomach. 

Coriolanus didn’t care about you, nor did he care about Lucy Gray. He deluded himself into thinking he cared, but you knew it wasn’t true. If he really cared, he wouldn’t be following Lucy Gray all the way across Panem. If he really cared, he wouldn’t be pursuing the both of you.

You looked at Coriolanus with horror as you were consumed by anger and disappointment, at both him and yourself.

Coriolanus read the look on your face with ease. It was obvious you knew his plan now, there was no point in hiding it. He released a steady sigh, jaw twitching with frustration that he had been confronted with his failures twice in one day.

“Is this all some kind of game to you, Coriolanus?” you asked. Your voice was quiet and without malice, your disappointment outweighing any fury you felt. “What am I to you? Your pet?”

“Darling, you know I don’t think of you like that,” Coriolanus said firmly, reaching for your hand.

You yanked your hand back quickly as the anger began to boil over, standing quickly to put distance between the two of you. Coriolanus groaned in annoyance as he too stood, slowly and without much interest.

“Then how do you think of me?” you demanded. “Because you refuse to call me your girlfriend, but then you kiss me like… like that and expect me to think of this as only casual?”

Coriolanus grumbled your name, his patience obviously wearing thin. “I care about you, I always have. This is more than casual to me.”

“No, it’s not! You’re leaving me and following Lucy Gray to 12!”

Coriolanus stiffened at the sound of Lucy Gray’s name, his shoulders squaring and spine straightening. His lips were pressed thin, looking down his nose at you. That ever-present air of superiority.

“Go to Lucy Gray, Coriolanus,” you growled. “I pray to any god who will listen that she escapes you as I have. And if she is unlucky not to, I pray that my memory will haunt you instead. Every time you kiss her, think of my lips. Every time you hold her, think of my warmth. Every night, you’ll wake up with her beside you, but it won’t be her you think of. It’ll be me.”

Coriolanus said nothing as he watched you with those bright blue eyes. You met his stare with a hard gaze, allowing that boiling frustration to take over. Maybe you would regret your outburst the second he walked out the door, maybe you wouldn’t. Right now, you were too angry to worried about that.

“Alright then,” Coriolanus sighed nonchalantly, dusting off his coat. “I’ll take my leave. I hope to see you again, but it appears as though I won’t. I can only wish you the best.”

Coriolanus turned and strode toward the door, his presence drastically different from when he first came knocking on your door.

“I can only wish that you rot in hell for all you put me through,” you answered smugly. “Thank God for Lucy Gray. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be stuck with your manipulative ass forever.”

Pausing in the doorway, Coriolanus glanced at you over his shoulder. He looked troubled as though he had never expected such a response from you. Now was usually the time you would come running back into his arms, sobbing over how you could never live without him. But not this time.

“Goodbye, my dear.”

You said nothing.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was a hot summer evening, the kind of heat that made you inexplicably lethargic and sleepy. The Covey had journeyed to the lake for an afternoon swim, picking berries and eating them with their toes dipped in the cool water. The day was long, but fun was limited. There were still chores to be done in town. 

When the Covey began their trek home, Lucy Gray was napping soundly in Coriolanus’s arms, her pink patterned dress sprawled across the thin blanket. Not wanting to disturb her from her sleep, Coriolanus urged the Covey to continue home without them, they would catch up in time.

But as the August heat eased any of Coriolanus’s worries, he too was overtaken by sleep. Together, he laid with Lucy Gray with nothing but the crickets and mockingjays for company. It was a peaceful evening.

With a sleepy hum, Coriolanus turned so that he fully enveloped your frame. He buried his nose in your soft hair, inhaling your scent slowly. Another hum left his lips as he squeezed you tighter against his body, your warm skin sending an affectionate tingle down his spine.

He murmured your name in his languid state, the sound so sweet on his lips that it was clear he was nothing more than a boy in love.

Coriolanus’s eyes snapped open as his mind awakened, finding himself wrapped around Lucy Gray’s slender frame. He inhaled with a start as he quickly pried himself from Lucy Gray who made a drowsy sound of protest. She turned and reached for him in her sleep, though she did not wake. Coriolanus pulled himself further from her grasp, his jaw tensing.

The image of you still danced across his vision. He rubbed his eyes furiously in an attempt to make you leave, but you would not. You filled his every thought, his every breath. He could not escape you no matter how hard he tried. Coriolanus’s head fell into his hands as he let out a silent, strangled cry.

Oh, how he missed you. That girl with lips so sweet and skin so soft. That girl with the laugh of an angel and a touch so warm it eased all tension. That girl who he loved so dearly and had let escape from his grasp. That girl who would never again be his.

Forever, he was yours, yet he could never have you.

[turbulentscrawl]

HELLOOO could we get ithaqua with a modern Reader too? :33

MWehehe

-Honestly, not the brightest idea for a modern S/O to try and get with his one. Modern social culture is very deep in the anti-toxicity (to the point that we circle back into it without realizing sometimes) and Ithaqua exhibits a lot of red-flag buzzwords. He’s the kind of person reddit would constantly tell you to divorce haha.

-He would be a bit torn over you, though. On one hand, you clearly lived emersed in “society” as a whole, which is what he was generally the most at odds with in life. (In a modern setting, Ithaqua would be an off-grid homesteader. He’s probably against having wifi at his home, even.) On the other hand…you’re a bit of an outcast in the survivor manor. He’s a little crazy, but not BLIND. He can see how people are nervous about you in the beginning, shun you and your magic box.

-He’s got no fucking clue what the magic box is either, but Ithaqua does not believe in magic, religion, or the paranormal. The people who dictate those things called his mother a witch, and himself a demon, and he knows in his heart that they were just two people living life in a way others didn’t like. Superstition is what got him dumped in the snow as a babe, so even if he’s confused as hell by your technology, he’s smart and reasonable enough to know it’s due to a lack of education on his part and not you being some otherworldly, incomprehensible thing.

-He’s likely drawn to you a bit from the above treatment you suffer. Maybe the others are more than willing to use you as bait, hesitant to rescue you, or fail to even explain to you how decoding works. Ithaqua will notice these things even in the middle of a hunt. He thinks you’re pitiful—until you’re not, and that makes you interesting. Ithaqua finds the remnants of whatever your modern-ness makes up your skills. Your phone tucked into a grassy corner, playing a recording of someone shuffling through a chest, maybe, and he picks it up curiously. And then, well, he has to return it to you. Unfortunately for you, he’s one of the faster hunters and this only delays him for a few seconds.

-Ithaqua starts to, frankly, bully you in matches. He’s less vicious with the damage done, and instead of chairing you off the bat, he takes a liking to carrying you around while he hunts your teammates. It doesn’t matter that you struggle free or self-heal sometimes, he can catch you again easily enough. He talks to you while he zips around after everyone, his usual giggles and sighs replaced with questions and commentary for you. You reach a point one day where you self-heal, but don’t bother running…and Ithaqua just grins like a shark and pats you on the head.

-Eventually he notices the others warming up to you better…and it makes him bitter. “They’re all hypocrites,” he tells you in a dark corner of the basement. “I treated you like everyone else from the start, didn’t I?” That’s his argument to endear himself to you. To coil you further around his (admittedly gentle, all things considered) finger. Yes, he hit you, hunted you, but that’s his job. The POINT, he says, is that he likes you and it’s not FAKE because he’s always seen you as an equal to the others. (To the survivors, not to himself, because the manor roles say you’re clearly not.)

-The POINT is that you shouldn’t fully trust the rest of them—they’ll turn on you again if they get spooked—but him? Ithaqua doesn’t get spooked. He gets…possessive. He likes you. He’ll be here, if you need him. And even if you don’t. He’ll take care of your troubles for you, sweet pet.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 18

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Alfons: Speaking of, did you know? It has been almost a month since Kate has become Fairytale Keeper.

Though he knew that, some sort of surprise arose in his chest.

Roger: Yeah, it’s…already been a month. Time flies by when you get older.

Alfons: So, how is there any progress to proving that romantic love exists?

Roger: You could say that there’s still not enough research. —However, there’s one thing I noticed.

Roger adjusted his glasses with his middle finger, the black frames reflecting the light.

Roger: “What you call romantic love’s just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.” That’s my definition of romantic love and I don’t think it’ll ever change. But—I might’ve been ignoring something when I made that definition.

Alfons: What was it?

Roger: We’re cursed to meet a “tragic end”.

Alfons: …

Roger: Our tragic end’s unavoidable. Even if I loved someone. If we can’t change the end, then the love leads down to a bad ending.

“I won’t despair”——Those words that she threw out into the world drew me toward her.

I allowed myself to bask in the pleasure of being by her side as she taught me about love.

I decided to accept this emotion called “love”, which had been an unidentifiable emotion throughout my life.

However, what I saw was—reality hadn’t changed.

Alfons: So it would have been better not to have fallen in love in the first place? Truly an egoistic way of thinking.

Roger: But you know, even if you think like that, there are things you want really badly. Love’s inefficient and I can live my life without it. That view won’t change. But, I don’t give it enough credit—I’ve realized how fun it can be.

Alfons: …o_o

Roger gave an awkward smile as Alfons was struck speechless.

In that moment, the eyes behind those glasses blinked two or three times as if they realized something.

Roger: …Hm?

Alfons: …What is it?

Roger: The place that’s supposed to be locked…is open.

Roger rummaged through the drawers of his workbench and frowned.

Roger: …It’s not here.

Alfons: Has something gone missing?

Roger: The formulation documents for a drug to remove curses… That and a bunch of my other research materials too… Just how long ago were they stolen? Who the hell would steal something so important to me…

Victor: —Pardon me.

Victor came through the lab’s door, his expression dark.

Alfons: What’s the matter, Victor? That’s an unusually grim look on your face.

Victor: Roger. There’s—There’s an arrest warrant issued for you.

Roger: …O_O

Alfons: …o_o

Roger: …Pfft…haha. I see, so that’s how it is. Who set me up?

--

Kate: Hm, I think it’s fine now. It looks like the swelling in my wrist went down overnight.

(Roger’s treatment is just as good as I expected)

I carefully rotated my wrist to check if there was any pain…

Ale: Arf arf arf!

The sound coming from out in the hall was definitely Ale’s barking.

Kate: Ale?

When I opened my door, Ale squeezed through the gap into my room.

Ale: Arf arf arf!

Kate: Hold on, what’s wrong, Ale?

It was like he was trying to tell me something through his barks, and I felt a strange uneasiness.

Ale: Wooo, arf.

Ale circled around me before running out the room…

Kate: Huh, Ale? Wait, where are you going?

--

I ended up following Ale to the palace gardens.

(That’s…!)

I saw Roger being taken away by men in suits and rushed over to them.

Kate: Roger.

Roger: …Kate. Ah, and you brought Ale along.

Roger looked down at Ale at his feet, his wrists cuffed— 

(What’s the meaning of this?)

Kate: What in the world is going on?

Roger: …

I stared at them, but all I got in return was silence…

Kate: Where are you planning on taking Roger?

Roger: That’s enough, Kate. These gentlemen were sent by the Privy Council.

(The Privy Council…they’re hostile toward Crown, but why take Roger?

Privy Council member: There’s an arrest warrant issued for Roger Barel. We will be turning him over to the police.

Kate: …An arrest warrant?

(For Roger? Why?)

(...I don’t know what’s going on)

Privy Council member: Let’s go.

Kate: Please wait! Let me talk to Roger for a moment.

Privy Council member: We don’t have time for that. Step aside.

Kate: Please.

Ale: Arf arf! Arf arf!

Then, Ale jumped at the Privy Council members who were about to take Roger away and had refused to listen to me.

Privy Council member: Woah! What’s with this dog!

(Now’s my chance!)

Kate: Roger, this way!

Roger: Hey…

I grabbed Roger’s arm and pulled him away.

--

I led him to the garden behind the palace.

(This should buy us some time…)

Kate: Roger, what’s the meaning of this? Arrest…

Roger: Calm down, Kate. Whatever’s going on is just as you heard.

Kate: …There’s really an arrest warrant?

I frowned at Roger and a deep sigh filled the space between us.

Roger: …Yeah, long story short—I’ve been set up by the Privy Council. I’m now a criminal and a traitor to Crown. At first, I thought it was one of those Vogel guys behind it. Never thought it’d be one of our own.

(He was set up…I don’t understand)

I couldn’t understand the situation, nor could I understand why Roger was so calm about this.

However, what stuck with me the most was— 

Kate: …Traitor? You…?

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: However, I’m gonna change my fate. It’s absurd to allow myself to be controlled by it. Kate, I’ve taken a liking to you so I’ll promise you this. I will never betray you without a reason. Never.

~~ End flashback ~~

(I remember the promise he made that night)

(No one’s fought against their curse as hard as Roger has)

(That’s why I couldn’t believe that Roger would unknowingly betray anyone without intentions—)

Kate: …There’s no way that will ever happen. You would never betray Crown!

Roger: …I could.

My ears picked up a thin, disconnected voice.

Kate: Roger…?

Roger: …It’s laughable, isn’t it…?

Our eyes met and within my chest was the sound of something breaking.

Those amber eyes that always held strong will now held despair.

Roger: I swore to myself that I’d tame my curse. I wouldn’t let fate drive me mad like God’s whim. I resolved to never betray anyone unknowingly. ..And yet. You can’t fight it…just by your will alone?

Words gushed out from the depths of despair, and I felt my chest tighten to the point I couldn’t breathe.

Kate: …

Roger: Is this how I meet my tragic end? …Surrendering myself to my curse…

(Don’t make that face)

Kate: No… You won’t! You can’t let your curse beat you—

I heard the voices and footsteps of those searching for us and quickly hid behind a hedge of Chinese privet.

I took Roger’s hand when I heard the footsteps come closer.

Let’s ask someone for help

Run away with me +4 +4

I’ll hide you

Kate: Run away with me, Roger.

Roger: That’d just make the crime worse.

Kate: …I still don’t have a complete grasp on the situation. However, I know you’ve been falsely accused. Until that gets cleared up…

Roger: Kate, though we ended up spending time together by pure chance, I enjoyed it.

(Huh?)

Kate: What are you talking about at a time like this?

(No. You’re making it sound like you want to go quietly…)

Roger: Take care of Ale. My old man should be back soon to pick him up.

Roger picked Ale up and shoved him in my arms*

Kate: Eh, huh?

Roger: And when your time as Fairytale Keeper’s up, turn to Victor. He’s a good one.

Kate: Roger, what are you saying?

(It’s like you’re treating this as our final time together)

(...Is this…our final time?)

Roger: And finally.

Those lips that wove words I didn’t want to hear landed on mine.

And then…the kiss ended before it could warm my heart

Roger: —Kate, I've fallen for you.

Kate: …

Roger: Heh, what’s with that dumb look? You didn’t notice? You’re pretty dense for someone that boasted about being a teacher of love. You’ve got terrible drinking habits and hate losing, but you’re earnest and stubborn. I know your bad points.  Still, even with all this trouble…Kate, I adore you.

What a person.

Saying things I wanted to hear at a time like this.

There’s a limit to being an egoist.

Kate: …Why are you telling me all of this now?!

Roger: ‘Cause I might never see you again. My ego’s telling me I’ll regret not telling you.

Kate: Never see me again…

Roger: I’m retracting my definition of “romantic love’s just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.” Love definitely exists in this world. Q.E.D.

Tangled threads of emotion unravel.

The moment I thought I could honestly tell him that I love him, now that I’ve finally cast my competitiveness and childish pride aside—

Privy Council member: There they are, I found them!

Roger: Whoops, looks like time’s up. They’re so impatient.

Kate: Roger…

Roger: See ya, Kate. Take care. Ale, you live a long life too.

Ale: …Kuuuuun?

Roger: …Can’t even pet you cuties’ heads with these handcuffs on.

He had a boyish smile on his face as he turned away from us.

Kate: No, Roger! Don’t go! …Roger, Roger! There’s no way you can’t hear me! Roger!

And thus—Roger disappeared from my sight.

His POV | Next

-

*I honestly thought that when Kate ran with Roger, she left Ale with the Privy Council

[skumhuu]

not at all the other anon (and very VERY much proship leaning) but the "proship means you're against harrassment" definition has always seemed flawed to me because... i was an anti once. And from my direct experiences there are so many antis who have horrible opinions of proshippers but are also very firmly against harrassment—they're still antis and still hate us, viscerally even, they just keep it to themselves and to their friend circles. That doesn't make it harrassment and also doesn't make them less of an anti, they still believe awful things about us and would likely be hostile if we ever interacted.

The definition i typically use for myself to determine whether or not someone is a proshipper or not is if they believe someone's taste in fiction has any bearing on their real-life moral compass or not. If you believe it does, you're an anti. if it doesn't, you're proship.

(This isn't to step over your opinion at all—just sharing mine! I really apologise if this comes off as disrespectful in any way haha.)

No no you’re fine! 💚

This kinda goes back to the unfortunately widespread idea that proship=pedo/problematic. Because like, those people just sound like they identify with being an anti because all of their friends are antis, they have the wrong info, or are too scared to speak up.

Also please remember that my aggressiveness lately isn’t due to hate, I am more than okay with former antis and people who don’t know better, but at this point I’ve dealt with so much harassment and hurt that I’ve lost my patience.

Aligning oneself with the face eating leopards to stay safe doesn’t mean they’re going out to eat faces themselves, but they are enabling that behavior. Even if they aren’t hurting people, by displaying “proship dni” they’re okay with isolating particular kinds of people out of the fandom. They’re okay with inciting harassment, or standing by while others do it for them. And like, they can say they’re against harassment all they like, but they’re still siding with the face eating leopards, hoping they don’t eat their faces next.

Adding proship to my bio wasn’t what I wanted, but I keep getting people acting betrayed when they discover that I’m proship and attacking me that I felt forced to add it. I simplify proship down to ‘proship means you are against harassment’ because I keep having to have this same song and dance where people show up in my askbox demanding I explain myself, when in reality I’m a random sanscest artist like 😂😂😂 the situation is very nuanced! But y’all I’m just trying to make the skeletons kiss

I keep linking studies, and info about the situation, and the way you explained being proship is exactly what I keep saying over and over but in different words :0 I’m too tired to be sympathetic with the people who call me an unsafe pedophile over fiction, who fill my ship tags with hate/disgust while I’m trying to vibe, and I’m not going to tolerate the people who side with that anymore. Like I don’t care if they aren’t harassing others themselves anymore.

Literally look at the tmnt fandom, they ended up turning on “neutrals” and bullied the ever loving shit out of everyone, even those who didn’t care. If we tolerate that here, eventually it might get that bad too. I refuse to let that happen. I will NOT let the face eating leopards in

[yanderambling]

Ohh my goodness, can we get more of crimelord and puppy-like reader, with time jump when the reader is receptive and soaking willingly in crimelord' love and loving them back? 🥰🥰🥰 (A huge time jump i suppose haha) Maybe reader even licks/kisses the once-wounded hand? Wagging their tail? Cuddling crimelord to sleep? Nuzzling? Omg now I have hyperfixation

ahh i’m so glad you enjoyed!! thanks for this prompt, i had so much fun with it! i hope you like this one too <3 (it kinda got away from me a bit lol)

pairing: Crimelord!Yan(gn) x Puppy Hybrid!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.4k

if you'd like to read the original post, you can find it here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, referenced past abuse, implied ptsd

As soon as you start warming up to them in any given area, Monty pushes a little more. They always move at your pace, but they just want to get as close to you as possible- they’re gentle but damn persistent.

Earning your trust instantly became their top priority, all their ill business delegated to their inner circle, and they don’t regret it a bit. They revel in watching you relax into your new life, and they take every setback in stride, meeting you with nothing but gentleness and endless praise. It’s infinitely gratifying to see you accept comfort and affection, and they give it to you in abundance.

You can be sure that they'll be petting you whenever they have a free hand, nothing calms yet excites them like the slide of your fur through their fingers, and they can’t get over the domesticity of simply sitting down and running their hands over you like it’s the most natural thing in the world (it is, for them at least). If you start getting closer, cuddling, crawling into their lap, they won’t be functional for the next few hours at least- the proximity alone is enough to make them fear hyperventilation, but the thought that you’re seeking them out for comfort (or even just some kind of entertainment in this giant, empty house) makes them dig their nails into their skin to make sure they don't float outside of their body. Sometimes you feel their grip tighten the slightest bit around the back your neck, their arms pull you a little closer, but when you look up they only meet you with a barely stifled manic grin.

Monty would also love to feed you by hand, they’ll do it for every meal if you let them. Once you’re more comfortable, they’d get a little less careful, letting their fingers slip into your mouth from time to time. The feeling of your teeth and tongue against their skin, so gentle now from when they first felt it, leaves them weak-kneed and lightheaded (if you suck on them even a little, they might just faint).

If you were to express remorse over their scarred hand, it would melt their heart, but they would discourage any guilt you might feel. They actually delight in bearing your mark (if you hurt any of their staff while you were still adjusting, they're lucky if all they left their service with was a scar- they weren’t worthy of even the illusion of your claim). Still, they would never stop you from licking them, they'll always take your “kisses” however you’ll give them (your tongue against their skin feels like the caress of an angel, a pureness they can feel cleansing them within, each motion a sacrament).

The first time you wagged your tail when they entered a room, Monty had to check their camera feeds to be sure it even happened. They had walked downstairs in the morning and greeted you in the living room, where you were most mornings you woke early, when they heard the soft, telltale thud thud of a tail against the couch. Sure enough, when they rounded the corner, there you were- a hesitantly friendly grin on your face as the end of you tail tapped a steady rhythm on the cushion. They nearly choked on the emotions that clenched their chest in that moment, and they felt newly rejuvenated in their quest to earn your love trust. Every time you show that same excitement at their presence from then on, it's all they can do not to melt into a puddle at your feet- and it only gets harder as you grow more comfortable.

They would love to give you a collar. They’d give you options, endless varieties of materials and colors and styles for you to try on- you’d probably have to make a whole day of it. They still feel their pulse pick up whenever they look at the proof of your bond, which you so proudly display (to their staff and the few shopkeeps in their pocket that have been sworn to secrecy to provide essential services, and to let you leave the estate on occasion). They often like to just hook their fingers through it and let their knuckles rest against your neck, a sort of subtle claim that settles some primal part of them, if only slightly.

Monty is a pretty big person, and remarkably strong, so you can bet they’ll be picking you up and carrying you around whenever you’ll let them (once they can stop their arms from going weak and shaky every time they feel your body against their chest). They take immense pleasure in scooping you up from wherever you may be- lounging on the sofa, standing in their garden, sleeping in their bay windows- and just carrying you about with them, or sitting you on their lap and stroking you until you settle into a doze (you’ve spent many evenings splayed across their legs or cuddled tot heir chest while they reviewed reports and receipts). They feel their heart soar every time your weight settles into their arms, so completely at their mercy, so hardened to everyone else yet allowing them your complete vulnerability; they could cry. (They have.)

This would probably take the longest, but Monty would never give up hope of getting you to share a bed with them. They might start by letting you sleep in their bed while they sleep on and watch you sleep from a surprisingly luxurious pullout. The sound of your deep, even breaths is almost enough to calm their racing heart- or maybe it’s actually making it go faster. They can't focus on anything else enough to tell, just knowing that you trust them enough to sleep in their room sends them into a flustered, shivering tizzy. They spend most of those nights obsessively memorizing the outline of your silhouette, struggling to convince themself that it wasn’t a dream (maybe they’ve snuck a few pets in when they just couldn’t hold back any longer, the feeling of your fur against their fingers always making their chest clench so wonderfully they've definitely taken closeup photos of your captivatingly peaceful face in the moonlight).

Once you two make it into the same bed for a night, they can hardly contain themself. You actually get a little worried, watching your sweet master shake and shudder in place beside you, their body sweaty and hot to the touch oh sweet lord you’re touching them but when you ask if they’re okay, they just nod fervently (their mouth is too dry to speak, and they’re fairly certain they wouldn’t be able to formulate words anyhow). They don’t really sleep that night either, and it would probably take them a couple nights to make any more moves forward unless you initiate (and that still would be so delightfully overwhelming).

They would try to hold you, ideally you two would cuddle up as close as you could be without being under each other’s skin (though they might actually prefer that). They would be happy with being the big or little spoon, too. Being curled around you makes them feel like they’re protecting you, like you want them to protect you, and they love feeling every line and curve of your body under theirs. But they would also delight in being wrapped in your arms, feeling your comforting weight around them, your breath against their back, letting themself be vulnerable to you.

It would probably take a couple nights before they get any actual rest in that bed. They’ll relish every second.

Waking up to you feels like a dream, and they always have breakfast delivered to the room so they can watch you lounge about, all rumpled and sleepy as you lazily nibble at the bites they hold to your mouth (so different from the frenzied way you used to gorge yourself, like you thought it might be taken from you and you weren’t sure when you’d get more. Monty intends to hunt down every last person that made you feel that way, and they’ve already made good progress).

They can, and do, spend hours upon hours just watching you- basking in a sunbeam on their sofa, napping in bed, exploring their vast estate- they’re basically always with you even when you don’t know it. The only time you two are apart is when they have to take care of business in person, which is pretty rare but still crushes their soul each time it happens.

But it’s necessary, in their mind, to keep you removed from all the sickness and violence in the world; they’re well-versed in dealing with violence, as they know you are too, and the thought of exposing you to anything of the sort is nauseating. They have a need to protect you from that darkness, to ensure that you never feel even a fraction of the way you’ve felt your whole life. And they do just that.

And, as long as you’ll let them (even if you won’t), they always will.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

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[wonilye]

♫ i can see you x sparks fly | y.jw

as your eternal academic rival, you and jungwon have always been at odds - that is, until he becomes the one person you want to trust your heart with in spite of it all. after all, all’s fair in love and war, no?

read the rest of the series here! (for taglist)

pairing ➭ academic rival jungwon x reader

genre ➭ academic rivals to dubious to lovers, hurt/comfort, academic validation craving, jungwon is reader’s sole comfort

w/c ➭ 5.4k

warnings ➭ slightly suggestive (they’re adults but no nsfw y’all), reader and jungwon both have terrible coping mechanisms for stress, there is a detailed scene where y/n loses her shit in a bathroom, both are academic validation simps, theyre not enemies they just. envy each other and sometimes wanna kiss kiss fall in love, y/n has an inferiority complex and has a tendency to think jungwon’s better than her, she hates herself as much as i hate myself

a/n ➭ to my acad validation peeps…look no further! jungwon and y/n…their ways of coping with themselves are mine. i just split myself in two for them, don’t come for my lonely ass lmao. for more context, look at the bottom a/n!

“done?”

the sun’s beginning to set, its dimming rays beaming through the glass windows of the library. a quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 6.30pm, and that you’ve been studying for the whole day. talk about a productive saturday.

you remove your headphones, glancing over your shoulder. you were planning on staying till the librarian shoos you out. jungwon seems to have other plans, though.

yang jungwon, your rival in just about everything since you were kids. tied with you in every single subject, even PE. he’s everything you are and more – good-looking, funny, and a genius, to top it all off, and he never lets you forget it, what with all the achievements he’s gotten over you. it’s not that he doesn’t work hard and you’re jealous of some natural academic gift he’s got, it’s the fact that you study just as hard as he does, do as much as he does, and yet people will always see him before you. and now, even when you’re at university, he’s still fighting with you for the top spot, for every position available. your circle of friends have remained the same, so like it or not, you’re stuck together.

you begin to stuff your notes into your backpack. “well, i might as well follow you back to the dorms. yunjin’s been lecturing me to stop walking back alone.” gathering your things, you leave, waving to the librarian as you attempt to put some distance between you and jungwon.

very quickly, jungwon moves beside you so his shoulder is almost pressed up against yours. “you sure took your time. if i hadn’t come to find you, the last bus across campus would’ve come and gone by the time you finished.”

“oh, don’t exaggerate. why’d you come here in the first place, when all you do is complain?” 

you want to say you hate the boyish grin that breaks out across his face, but that would be a lie, and you’ve done way too much lying today to yourself. “what else? i came here for you.”

“ugh, you-!”

“you ears are red, haha.”

your bus pulls into the stop, and in a thoughtless attempt at revenge, you grab his arm and yank him up the steps so he’s even closer to you than before. you don’t miss the way his skin flushes hot.  “now yours are too.” leading him to a seat in the back, you pinch his side. he returns your…affection with a jab in the cheek. 

it’s a game of cat and mouse with jungwon, although neither of you can say for sure who’s chasing and who’s ducking away. whatever this is, it’s safer. 

at least you’re not actually fighting anymore.

here’s the thing: yang jungwon has this journal. every time he’s upset or on the verge of a mental breakdown, he trauma dumps into that journal. it’s the only way he doesn’t cave from the stress, and you and your friends learned very quickly that if that notebook was out, everyone had to leave him alone for at least ten minutes, then he’d be himself again. one day, you’d been studying together when a draft blew the pages of his journal open, straight to the page where he’d written something that was definitely not for your eyes — or anyone’s for that matter. 

“i hate her, so so much i wish she was dead. maybe in a different lifetime, i’ll be better than her, have her beat for once.” you didn’t even need to finish reading what he wrote before you were clawing at his throat, because who else could it be but you?

and it hurt to read it, because what could it mean than yang jungwon was jealous of you? what could it mean that the one person you simultaneously hated and envied, hated you back for all the same reasons? it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t even hate him peacefully.

it only got worse from there, because all it took was a couple minutes of yelling at each other before that ass of a human being decided it was a good idea to tell you it was “three years ago”, and that it shouldn’t matter as much as it did, as if that was supposed to help. and you’d screamed at him, screamed and cried and shoved him and-

his lips were against yours. 

you would’ve pushed him off, but as soon as it came it went, and he’d pulled away faster than you could think. “i don’t hate you,” he’d managed to make out, his voice shaky as he tried and failed to recollect his thoughts. “i just…i can’t hate you. not anymore.”

hell, maybe it was the attention, or some sort of sick stress outlet. you wish it were the latter, because then that would’ve been a hell lot easier. either way, you haven’t spoken about it since then, reason being you’re totally out of your comfort zone when it comes to this guy. plus, he’d taken your first kiss, although he didn’t have to know that. having put your all into your academic life, you haven’t really thought about dating anyone at all. sure, there were a few people whom you’d thought were fairly attractive, but you had never cared to do anything more than that (much less with yang freaking jungwon). your ultimate goal has always been to have jungwon beat. you sort of achieved that, you suppose. the boy’s now a mess when it comes to you. 

since then, you’ve been using each other as stress relief. stupid, really, but with that annoyingly good kiss still hanging between the two of you, you could only keep coming back for more, waiting for lulls in your timetables to meet up. one thing would lead to another, and…well.

“finished your revision yet?” you probe. if he says no, you’ll just drag him off to finish it. but he’s jungwon. if he says he’s gonna do something, he does it. although it’s sort of disappointing if he just parts ways with you, even after he came all this way to find you so far away from the dorms. 

jungwon sighs. “what do you take me for? of course i did, or you’d get mad at me. and i know you’re free for the rest of the day too.” he rummages through his backpack, before handing you a cap and mask. “put these on, i need a big brute to help me buy and carry groceries back to my dorm.”

“and who better than me, huh?”

jungwon grins, waving a matching set in your face. “you’re the multifaceted necessity in my life. my swiss knife, if you please.”

you end up at a mall just a few kilometres away from campus. apparently, he needs laundry pods, vegetables and some sort of microfibre cloth that “can only be blue, mind you.” according to him, if a hand towel doesn’t match his dorm’s colour scheme, the whole world falls apart. 

(for the record, his dorm room does look nice. but no one has to know that you know.)

pushing a shopping cart along the aisles, a bag of spinach catches your eye. “how’s this for vegetables?”

he shakes his head. “lettuce is better for hotpot.”

“since when did you plan on having hotpot?”

“it’s our dinner, y/n.”

“…”

he sighs. “i’m paying for the groceries.”

“well in that case…” you move to grab a few packets of meat from the fridge. “you won’t mind if i add these, will you?”

you don’t miss his odd gaze on you as he pushes the cart towards the checkout counter. “not at all.”

so much for the grocery shopping.

dinner is long forgotten as you find yourself pinned up against the walls of jungwon’s dorm, his grip on your waist oddly comforting. your fingers are tangled in his dark locks, pulling him in deeper, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

it feels so, so wrong, to be rendezvousing with him, and maybe he knows it too, because when he finally pulls away, there’s a guilty look on his face. “strike two…?” he grins sheepishly. he’s a little out of breath, and you hate to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. (actually, it’s the fifth time this week, but who’s counting? definitely not you.)

how? you’d maintained the status quo for more than a decade. hell, you two are supposed to loathe each other. knowing yang jungwon has some sort of feelings for you must be messing with your brain. 

jungwon’s lips latch onto your earlobe, fingers trailing down your nape. it’s crazy, the way every brush of his lips sends your head reeling. over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of his roommate’s neatly folded quilt, and a thought pops into your mind. “when’s sunoo getting back?”

“he just left for a party, he won’t be back for a bit,” jungwon murmurs. sunoo happens to be part of a circle of close friends consisting of yunjin, sunoo and ni-ki (and jungwon, although you could never admit he’s a friend). you’re a close-knit group, withholding no secrets with each other. more often than not, they’ve been caught up in your fights with jungwon, although those haven’t happened in a while, for obvious reasons.

you hum against his lips, fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin as you try to steady your breathing. “think the water’s boiled by now, get off.” it’s a half-hearted order, and you’re pretty sure jungwon sees through your bullshit. what was it, something about glass houses?

“don’t wanna.”

“jungwon come on-” the sound of a lock in a key slices through the air, jolting you and jungwon apart. panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to shove jungwon far away from you. “hurry up, hurry up.” 

sunoo’s voice drifts past the door. “must’ve left it in here somewhere, don’t know how i could’ve forgotten my id of all things.” the door opens to reveal a sheepish-looking sunoo, flanked by your friends yunjin and riki, who don’t look very pleased. their expressions, however, change the moment they spot you in the corner. “y/n?! what are you doing here?”

one look at the tiny hotpot contraption on the table, paired with the small portions of food is all they need to put two and two together. yunjin frowns, marching past sunoo. “ohh no, you two in the same room alone is a big no from me. by the time we get back, the whole place is gonna look like hell, with all the screaming and fire.” her disapproving glance at you makes you want to shrivel up and die on the spot. 

“we’ll be studying, don’t worry. we never fight when we’re studying,” jungwon shrugs, shooting a discreet glance in your direction, practically screaming help me.

“yeah see the thing is, you shouldn’t even be fighting-”

“yunjin, don’t.” sunoo takes her by the shoulder, dragging her back out the door. “keep our dorm in one piece, please. we’re off!” while yunjin still believes in peace between the two of you, sunoo’s learnt long ago that interfering with your rivalry only makes things worse. not that you don’t feel a little bad about it.

the door slams shut, leaving you and jungwon alone in the room. it’s an uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness of the interruption still lingering.

“y/n, i-”

you hold out your hand. “give me a moment, gosh.” burying your face in your hands, you groan. “that was probably the worst thing ever. we lied in their faces, they’re gonna kill us if they ever find out.”

you suppose it’s your despair that elicits a sound awfully like a snicker from him. some things never change. “did you see the looks on their faces? they’ll never see it coming.” you finally raise your head, watching as jungwon smirks at you with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. paired with that loose-fitting hoodie of his, and the sweatpants (grey, no less), you’re simultaneously insanely smitten and utterly appalled by said attraction. why’d he have to be so good-looking? he wasn’t this handsome when you were growing up. yang jungwon is going to be the death of you.

it really does take all your efforts not to just shove him onto the couch and claim his lips for yourself again. and then you nearly faint from the prospect of having that thought at all. hastily, you shove a wad of meat into the boiling pot on the table. “we-we should start eating. don’t want the food to turn bad.”

he shrugs, pulling up a chair opposite you. “don’t mind if i do.”

and if you pop open a couple beers afterward, no one has to know.

shit. shit.

days later, you’re at a study cafe with all your friends. you’ve spent the past hour on this topic, and it’s taking everything inside of you not to smash your laptop in half and bash your head into the debris. what the hell is this? you’re not supposed to be bad at this. a glance at jungwon tells you he’s not having nearly as much trouble as you are, and that’s your breaking point.

panic rises in your throat, your lungs, as your vision blurs. words on the screen start to blend, and you think to yourself, you’re a failure again. worthless no matter how hard you try, breaking apart even while trying to hold yourself together. you can feel every tear leave a searing path down your cheeks, nails clawing for skin to carve red lines into. your eyes burn with the buildup of tears, a telltale sign you’re about to lose your shit. in front of jungwon, no less. just great.  

you stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they drag across the floor. “bathroom,” you manage to make out, as you dash across the cafe full of people, praying no pne notices. you fling the bathroom door open, turning on the tap at full blast. you don’t realise it, but your fingers are gripping the edges of the sink with an intensity you didn’t think was possible. 

your eyes flutter shut as you try to calm down, focusing on the flow of the water. it’s not working, but the white noise is more soothing than anything right now. that is, until you hear a clicking sound, followed by arms wrapping around you from behind. judging by the shallow breaths, and the mellow scent of baby lotion, it’s exactly who you think it is.

in your rush, you forgot to lock the door. wonderful.

you lean away from jungwon’s embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him, but he stubbornly holds you tighter. “go back, i’m fine.” you don’t even believe yourself, from the way your voice trembles in between gasps.

he hums, and with your back against his chest you can feel the little vibrations as his speaks. “you don’t say.” he doesn’t continue, and in the silence, your mind stays on the warmth of his body against yours. slowly, you let yourself relax into him. it’s funny, how he can be the problem and the cure at the same time. 

you can feel yourself melting in his arms, your breathing evening out with every second that passes. your heartbeat’s finally slowed to a calmer thrumming, no longer pounding in your ears. suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his soft sweater against your cheek, and the way a thin piece of fabric is the only thing between your skin and his. 

“how do you do it?”

jungwon frowns. “do what?”

“hold up the world and make everything seem fine, when you know it’s not.”

he falls silent, resting his head in the crook of your neck (it’s becoming a habit of his). “well…it’s easy when it’s for someone else.”

“that so?” you muse, peering back up at him. “even for me?”

the way he averts your gaze is insanely cute. “don’t push it.”

but you know he hasn’t lied to you. since you were kids, jungwon’s never been the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. he holds everything together, holds everyone together. even now, he’s keeping you from falling apart. but what about him? who’s watching him to keep him from losing it all? you know for sure he’s had his fair share of breakdowns, but your stomach churns at the thought that you’ve never witnessed it. not once. being yang jungwon is lonelier than it seems.

once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you untangle yourself from his embrace. “i’ll, um, head back first. you should wait a few minutes before you go back.”

“right.” glancing down at his feet, jungwon nods. “just…you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

you turn to leave, but a question burns all the way down your throat. 

why? would you take it from my hands and bear it with me?

(and what if you wanted to bear his burdens too?)

true enough, your performance on the latest assignment was more than decent — the highest score in your class, in fact. and as always, jungwon’s not far off. your hard work did pay off. funnily enough, you don’t go to rub it in his face like you always used to do.

it seems you’ve changed.

these days, jungwon seems to linger in your head a lot more. and it’s not just the intimate gestures that stay, but the feeling of his arms around you just won’t disappear. every time you’re about to panic, the mere memory of his gentle touch only serves to ground you back to reality. he’s not even physically here, but you don’t need him to be there for him to be your lifeline. how did things even turn out like this? your greatest rival, also your greatest source of comfort.

today, your friends have made plans to head to an amusement park (read: disneyland. because yunjin’s a disney adult in the best sense of the word). you, jungwon, sunoo, yunjin and riki, along with his girlfriend. the dynamic’s great, really, with everyone carrying the mood well so nothing ever feels boring. you’re able to grab a few rides with them, and eventually the group splits for different attractions, and it’s just you, riki and jungwon, waiting for the others to get back from some quirky river ride. you three didn’t bring spare clothes, so you’ll have to sit this one out. parked under a shady tree, you don’t feel the heat nearly as much, but sweat’s starting to make your shirts cling to your backs.

thirty minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of them. riki’s phone pings. “oh, the ride’s delayed. they’re gonna queue for another forty minutes.”

“forty?”

riki shrugs. “it’s a popular ride.”

you rise to your feet. “okay, i’ll go get us some water. you guys stay put.”

fortunately for you, the shop’s got plenty of water bottles, although the marked-up prices do make your wallet cry a little. what you aren’t prepared for, however, is walking back and spotting riki and jungwon huddled under the tree, deep in conversation. quickly, you press your back up to the other side of the tree trunk, hiding in plain sight.

“…you want relationship advice from me?”

jungwon hums. “well, i can’t very well ask sunoo, not when he’s only just stopped partying away to handle his own breakup.”

“true. we need to find him some better coping mechanisms. though i think he’s back in contact with her on instagram. i swear i saw a notification on his phone the other day with her user and all. that webinar he’s going for next tuesday? think it’s her.”

“oh.” you can hear the wince in jungwon’s voice. “that’s a little…”

riki glares at him. “don't change the subject. shoot.”

he sighs, his lips twisting in concentration. it’s a habit he’s had for a long time, one that you’ve come to notice. “so there’s this girl.”

“uh-huh.”

“i can’t stop thinking about her.”

“uh-huh.”

“but i know she hates me-”

“shit, you like y/n?!” riki yells, slapping jungwon on the back before he can even finish. “of all the billions of people on the planet?”

“how’d you guess?”

“she’s the only one who hates you, buddy. no prizes for guessing who.”

jungwon groans, burying his face in his hands. “i don’t know anymore. she just can’t get out of my head. don’t tell the others, i’m begging you. i’ll never live it down.”

“okay…” riki trails off, and you can imagine how confused he is. “why her though? and why now?”

jungwon’s practically fumbling for an answer, running his hands through his hair (another nervous tic of his). “it’s just…i guess i get her, and she gets me? we understand each other’s problems really well. it’s like looking into a mirror.”

you nearly choke at his words. he gets you, that much is clear. but for him to feel like you know him inside out, that’s a completely different thing altogether. it’s always been a struggle for you to read people. coupled with the fact that jungwon’s the most emotionally intelligent and regulated guy you know, you’ve been worried you’re not giving him enough. 

besides, he’s so much more than you’ll ever be. you, the mentally unstable top student, and jungwon, the other contender for your spot, but with something more: people skills. everyone likes him, everyone wants to be him. the battle’s lost before you can even fight it. he’s a good person, and you’re…nothing like that. people trust him, including you. 

so why would he dare to leave his heart in your hands like that?

it’s not fair. he knows exactly what to do, and you know nothing. he’s dated other girls before, not many but enough to be more experienced than you. how would you know anything, other than to clumsily take his affection with a heap of salt? you’ve failed him. 

oddly enough, riki seems to understand. “i think i catch your wind, but you’ll have to elaborate. what’s the dynamic with her right now?”

“i, uh.” jungwon flounders, his cheeks turning pink, no doubt at the memory of everything you’ve done with him. “th-that’s not…well.” he laughs nervously. “how much can i say before it’s too much info?”

as you watch him with his toothy grin, with those eyes that crinkle in the corners, you know one thing - you absolutely adore him. it’s sudden, but how could you not? he’s everything. much as you hated him, it takes little of your pride to admit he’s been your lifeline for a while now. but you wonder, why would he pick you? for the sole reason that you know him well? that isn’t enough, is it? you may have never understood romance, but you’re guessing this isn’t the usual kind of reason people fall for other people.

besides, there’s nothing special about you.

you end up waiting for the conversation to drift to small talk before joining them back. as always, jungwon’s quick to revert to his usual, teasing self. and despite it all, you find your gaze to be on him the whole time.

it’s dark out when you guys finally make your way back to the dorms. with the others off buying water and snacks for a late-night hangout, you’re left alone with jungwon to head back. he’d conjured up some lie about you leaving some study material in his dorm and needing to grab it before going back to your own, and they seemed to buy it. so here you are, walking along a concrete pavement with the boy you can’t seem to understand, with rain practically beating down your backs. the weather really hates you.

with your path being lit only by the orange glow of the overhead street lamps, and the air filled with nothing but the sound of pouring rain, there’s nothing much you can say. nothing really feels right to say right now, because how do you even begin to address anything in the past month?

jungwon’s grip on the umbrella is tight. you swear it’s leaning slightly towards you. in his other hand is a plastic bag of merch you got from the amusement park, full of junk like headbands and shirts. 

wordlessly, you sneak your pinky into the palm of his hand, hooking your fingers together. there’s an odd sort of intimacy in the little gesture - a silent reassurance that concedes a lot more than you’re usually willing to. to your relief, jungwon doesn’t mention anything about it.

suddenly, his footsteps slow to a halt. he whips out a pair of sparklers from the bag you’d gotten from the amusement park, slipping one into your hands. “quickly, before they come back.” as he fumbles with the lighter, a familiar endearing look of concentration on his face makes you giggle a little. the lighter clicks a few times, and the sparklers come to life.

despite the pouring rain, the sparks of violet flash brightly, illuminating your view of each other. with his face glowing a pretty shade of purple, you can see the ridges in his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the curve of his mouth. “and why exactly are we lighting fires in a downpour?”

“oh shut up, i’m trying to have a moment with you here.” the retort comes easily, a little too easy, seeing as he slaps his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “you heard nothing.”

“mhm.”

and then he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk, the faint crackling filling the silence as you continue on. you can sense jungwon’s gaze on you, so you pinch his arm. “something on your mind?”

he exhales softly, patting your shoulder. “if i say it’s you?”

“then you’re a cheesy bastard. what’s really going on?”

he laughs, but you know there’s something lying under the surface. there always is. (huh, maybe you do know him better.)

“it’s nothing, really. just thinking about…us, i guess.” he pauses. “well, mostly you, if i’m being honest. i don’t really know where to start.”

you shift closer to him under the umbrella, till your cheek is pressed against his arm. “i think i do. your journal?”

“ah.” he grimaces, his laughter a little less nervous. “that much i’m sure you’ve already guessed. i don’t think i ever hated you, y/n. not really. i guess i just got scared that there was someone who saw through me so well.”

“and…are you still scared?”

he shakes head firmly. “no. it’s a good thing, because, well. you feel safe. like a place i can go to and let my guard down. i imagine doing things with you i’d never do with anyone else.”

“not naughty things, i hope,” you joke, but the brilliant red that blooms so bright across his face you can see in the dark is extremely telling. “yang jungwon! get your mind out of the gutter!”

feigning a cough, he looks away, fighting for whatever dignity he’s got left. “my point is, i can’t go on as your rival. i…i need you.” he swallows, and in his eyes there’s a vulnerability you know is saved only for you. “i don’t know why, but knowing you’re the only one who understands me is all i’ll ever need. selfish as it is, i want to keep you here forever, so i don’t have to feel alone again.” he says it all with a conviction that’s so strong it almost scares you. he’s putting all his trust into you. does he not think it’s terrifying, to leave all his sorrows with a person like you?

“are you confessing to me?” you whisper breathlessly. you seriously hope he can hear you over the crashing rainfall. “because i’m not sure if i’m-”

“yes. i’m confessing to you, like right now.”

oh. oh.

but there’s an ache in your chest that swells as you try to meet his glassy eyes. “but if you know me so well, you’ll know that i’m not all that. i’m an emotional wreck who can’t live without her ego, and i’m just…me.” and you’re so much more, more than i’ll ever be.

at this, he stops dead in his tracks, not giving a damn about the fact that the rain’s only getting heavier. “i-okay. what do you think of when you think of me?”

“how is this relevant?”

“just answer the question.”

you lick your dry lips, scouring your brain for a reply that can tell him exactly what you want him to know. “it’s like you can see who i am, like you know exactly what to do to make everything okay again. we’ve been under the same pressure to be good our whole lives, and when you try to make me feel better i can tell you mean it. and it works, and i honestly don’t know how i could possibly live without it, now that i know what it feels like to be loved by you.” if you’d told your younger self that years into the future, you’d get to bare your soul to your greatest rival, she’d probably laugh in your face. but here you are, and it’s comforting to know that he’d never judge you for it.

finally, yang jungwon grins that radiant grin of his, the tip of his sparkler meeting yours. “isn’t that reason enough, then, to keep me here? let’s be selfish for once, you goody-two-shoes.” the soft gaze he has on you has your already-weak resolve crumbling away, and it’s as though a hole’s been filled in your heart. one you didn’t even know existed.

“we’ve been too good our whole lives, haven’t we?”

“all the more a reason to be a little more reckless.”

but you let the sparkler fall to the puddle-strewn pavement as you cup his face in your palms, pressing your forehead to his. “for you? any leap of faith would be worth it.”

and you kiss him, with the force of every unsaid word, every apology and confession of the past eighteen years. as much as you’ve done this before with him, every other time he’s kissed you pales in comparison, because for once you see why you wanted him so badly. why you wanted him to have a piece of your soul. maybe, just maybe, pieces of you are already a part of him, and him of you. fragments of each of your shared pasts had embedded themselves in your hearts long before you’d learnt that the sting was one of longing, and not jealousy alone.

his grip on the umbrella loosens, his palm wraps around your nape, a thumb caressing your jaw in a movement both reverent and yearning. with the umbrella now blown far, far away, you’re completely drenched, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. as his other hand moves to hold your waist, you’re surprised at how naturally it comes. you tug him closer, and it’s both everything you’ve ever wanted, but at the same time never enough. breathing in the lingering scent of his lotion, you decide that this, this is home.

“...what we had was special, you know, and i can’t just let - am i seeing things? oh shit, you guys have to see this, oh my-” sunoo’s voice rings out in the night, and this time you just giggle against jungwon’s lips, not bothering to even look at your rightfully flabbergasted friends. this time, you want them to know.

riki sneers in disgust as he flings your stray umbrella towards you both. “i’d congratulate you, but i’ll be too busy puking in that corner right over there.”

“as if you and your girlfriend aren’t worse,” jungwon teases, catching the umbrella with one hand, the other still on your hip. gosh, that was attractive. 

oh gosh, this guy’s your boyfriend. yang jungwon is your boyfriend.

by now, your friends have caught up with you, and you’ve got a feeling they’re about to circle you like starving vultures for a good story. but you can’t even bring yourself to mind as jungwon takes your hand into his, interlacing your fingers as he reopens the umbrella. “ready to go?”

anytime, if it’s with him. 

a/n ➭ so yall…the promised context. this started off as a secret romance thing where ynwon were more touchy feely (in fact this is the fic that started the whole series lmao). but along the way i decided to use this fic as my projection + built-in jungwon character analysis. tbh the final result of this fic is…very different from what i had in mind at the start, but i’m okay with how it turned out in the end! as always, thanks for reading till the end! if u have the time do reblog/comment so ik what i can improve on haha have a good week! ALSO DID YALL SPOT THE SUNOO X YN CRUMBS

[katherines-imagines]

“Don’t be a skxawng, ask her.” Part 7

pairings: neteyam x reader

warnings: cute, fluff, bad writing

key: skxawng - moron, muntxa - mate

summary: Neteyam and you decide to tell Neteyam’s family that they are finally together, but not without messing with them a bit…

When the teenagers pulled apart from their kiss, neither opened their eyes.

They wanted to stay in the moment forever.

Finally, after relishing in the silence, the pair took a look at each other.

Neteyam’s ears were pulled back, red at the tips, and a shy smile was present on his beautiful face.

Y/n didn’t look much different, with rosy cheeks and a flustered smile herself.

“That was.. amazing,” Y/n finally breathed out.

“Better than I could have ever imagined,” the boy smirked slightly.

“You sure you haven’t had practice?”

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head.

“You’re asking me? I should be the one asking you,” she said with a teasing grin herself.

They couple laughed for a while until they slightly came down from their drunken love high.

“So, what does this make us,” Y/n questioned quietly, looking up at him.

The mighty warrior stayed quiet for a moment, before looking down at her.

“I know exactly what I want us to be.”

Knowing exactly what he meant, she stepped closer to him, making their chests touching, batting her eyes flirtatiously at him.

“Oh? And what do you want then?”

Stuttering, his eyes darted around them, avoiding her gaze.

Neteyam mumbled something that the girl genuinely could here, and she asked him to repeat that.

“I would like to court you,” he whispered, this time Y/n could hear.

“One more time, would you?”

Neteyam knew this time she had heard, but he cleared his throat.

“I would like to court you, ma Y/n,” he said, in a clear voice.

Blushing harshly, the girl looked down with a smile.

Smirking at how the tables had been turned, he put his hand under her chin, and brought her gaze on to him.

“It’s rude not to answer when one, let alone son of Toruk Makto, asks you a question.”

Flustered, you stuttered out your response.

“Y-yes ma Neteyam, it would overjoy me if you courted me,” she said blushing.

A happy grin overtook Neteyam’s face as he stared with love at the girl.

“Erm, if we can, could we tell my family tonight,” Neteyam asked hesitantly.

Y/n’s heart heated faster at the thought of meeting his family.

“I- i don’t know, I mean I already know them,” she stuttered, fidgeting nervously.

“I know, but they haven’t shut up about me asking to court you,” he reassured.

“Besides, they prefer you over me.”

The girl snorted, and Neteyam looked at her lovingly, enjoying her laughter.

“Ok? If it’s not imposing,” she agreed hesitantly.

Lighting up, Neteyam lifted her into his arms, and twirled her in a circle.

“Haha, stop Neteyam,” the pretty girl said, not being able to contain her laughter.

Chuckling along with her, he put her down, smiling.

“Great, they’re going to go crazy,” he laughed excitedly.

As they walked to the Sully tent, the talked about how the dinner could go.

“Ooh, we can even prank them and wait till the end of dinner to tell them,” Neteyam suggested.

“They’ve been complaining nonstop, and to be frank, their lack of confidence in me hurts,” he faked a pout, gripping where his heart was playfully.

Laughing, the girl nodded in agreement.

“As long as it doesn’t upset them too much,” she chuckled.

When they had arrived, Y/n’s nerves came back to her, and worried thoughts came into her mind.

What if they don’t like me?

What if I make things akward?

What if they don’t think I’m good for him.

“It’s gonna go amazing, I do not know why you are worried,” Neteyam said, as if he was reading her mind.

“I know, I know, I just- I don’t want to mess this up, you know,” she said looking away.

Taking a grip of her hand, he gave her a small smile.

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” he assured her, squeezing her hand.

“And besides, they’ll be messing with me the whole time.”

Y/n laughed softly, and squeezed his hand back.

When they entered the tent, the family looked up in surprise, seeing their son with the gorgeous girl.

“Y/n,” Neytiri greeted with a smile.

“Mrs. Sully,” you respectfully answered with a smile.

“Please, call me Neytiri,” she said walking towards the pair.

She got a hold of your hands and put it between the two of you.

“Will you be staying for dinner?”

You looked around the room, everyone’s eyes trained on you, waiting for your answer.

Your polite manners screamed at you to decline, but you saw Neteyam’s hopeful gaze, and nodded kindly.

“If it wouldn’t be too much, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Neytiri shook her head, as if she had just heard the craziest thing, and she took you to sit, Tuk holding one hand while Neytiri and Kiri walked beside you.

As the ladies left, the boys crowded around Neteyam.

“Damn, didn’t know you had it in you cuz,” the younger brother breathed out.

“Oh shut it,” Neteyam playfully rolled his eyes.

Hearing a throat clear, he turned to see his father with his arms crossed.

“You asked her if you could court her,” Toruk Makto asked.

“Yes, I did sir,” Neteyam answered assertively, forgetting his plan to joke around.

Nodding, Jake put his hand on his eldest son’s shoulder, grinning proudly.

“Atta boy.”

Positively gleaming, the boy smiled back to his father, happy that he approved.

As the boys walked to the girls, Neteyam saw Y/n complimenting and listening thoughtfully to his little sister Tuk.

His heart clenched, the thought of her taking care of his baby sister, made him wonder what it would be like to have a kid with you.

She’d make an amazing mother, the thought creeped into his mind.

Neteyam blushed and grinned at the thought, knowing that he would definitely ask if she wanted kids later in their relationship.

But for now, he would focus on the present, and that meant getting through a family dinner.

Hopefully his family didn’t want to embarrass him.

Yet, as we have learned, luck was never on his side.

Throughout the night, his family shared embarrassing stories, to which Y/n relished in, and Neteyam fumed about.

It was all good fun in the end, and even Neteyam couldn’t help but laugh at his younger self.

By the end of dinner, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves.

When everyone was finished, Neytiri stood to clean up, only to be stopped by Y/n clearing the table before her.

“There is no need Y/n, you are our guest,” Neytiri tried to protest.

“Exactly, I am your guest, so I will clean up,” the girl answered, not taking no for an answer.

Neytiri aided the girl to the clean up, as everyone else sat, beautifully stuffed.

“Your girl’s kind to your mom. You picked a good one,” his father noted.

Normally, any teasing from his father would make him heat up, but Neteyam was too happy that his lover and his family got along.

“Yeah, I did.”

Lo’ak snorted, shaking his head, causing a confused Neteyam and Jake to turn his way.

“Nah bro, more like she picked your skxawng ass,” Lo’ak laughed hysterically, making Neteyam roll his eyes.

As the mother and girlfriend cleaned up, Neytiri spoke up.

“He adores you,” Neytiri said softly.

Smiling, you answered with a, “really?”

Nodding her head, Neytiri turned to Y/n.

“He only talks about you. I have no doubt he loves you, but he is a teenage boy. Stupid sometimes. If he ever upsets you, you come tell me.”

Blushing at the fact that Neteyam was right about his family loving her more, she nodded bashfully.

As Neteyam went outside to take Y/n home, they bid his family good night, and the girl thanked the Sully’s for an amazing time and dinner.

“Come back anytime,” Jake spoke for the family.

“Thank you sir,” Y/n said gratefully.

The pair bid their goodbyes, and started headed towards her home.

Playfully shoving his now lover, he smiled.

“So what do you think?”

Laughing with relief, the girl turned to him.

“They’re amazing. No wonder your such an amazing man.”

He smiled and took her hand in his.

Both teenager’s heads were beating harshly against their chests, as if they were ticking bombs of love, bound to implode.

Neteyam turned to the girl, stopping both in their tracks.

“I love you Y/n, thank you for being so kind to my family.”

Shyly, the girl tucked her hair slightly behind her ear.

“It wasn’t heard, your family is very kind,” she said bashfully.

Taking a step closer, cupping hee face, he brought her stare to his.

“Really. Thank you, ma Y/n,” he declared with love, gazing through her eyes into her soul.

And they leaned in, kissing one another, relishing on both teenager’s love for one another.

———————————————————————

A/n: Sorry it took long to post, I tried to make this one super long! And yes I made a cliffhanger bc I love these two! If you have any suggestions for a part, please don’t hesitate to comment or msg me! Ideas are always welcome!

As always, thanks for the love and support, and comment if you would like to be tagged in the next part or in the tag list for the series!

(P.S., I have a master list containing all the parts of the series to make it easier to track)

Tagged: @kikookii, @dioraaaaaaa, @mashiromochi, @sloppierjewel, @ipoopedmypants47, @adaiasafira, @mommyneytiri, @eskamybeloved, @hannibals-favourite-meal, @secrettreaderr, @liluvtojineteyam, @sadieswifenocaplol, @hisfuture, @jkeluv, @xxannyxx, @erenjaegerwifee

[kazumist]

EPISODE 4 ★ YOU'RE DATING WHO NOW?!

FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE IT — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterpost / prev ep / next ep / timestamps don't matter

you were both wrong to doubt that this plan would go smoothly. because pretending to be so smitten—to make it look like you’re each other’s everything—is the most difficult task yet, especially when this is the first time you've ever interacted like this.

and knowing how people in high school are, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if rumors started circulating within the first few hours. 

“hold up, is that scaramouche and (name)?”

“wait… they’re holding hands!”

it hasn’t even been five minutes since you walked into the school campus, and you could already spot some whispering about you two. then again, it’s understandable.

after all, it's not every day that you can witness two rivals walking together while holding hands.

by the time you arrive at where your respective friend groups were, which is by the bleachers near the covered court, let’s just say "shocked,” as their reaction is an understatement. childe had accidentally spit out the water he was drinking onto xiao’s face; kazuha had to blink three times to see if what he was seeing was real; and as for venti? he had his eyes blown out wide and his jaw hanging open.

kaeya and the others were just the same as them—all shocked and silent, trying to process what they were seeing.

“why—how? wait, no, when!” venti stammers.

“as you can see, i’m dating scaramouche now.” you smiled, rubbing your thumb against his.

“and i’m dating (name) here.”

“you’re dating who now?!”

oh boy. this is where things actually start now, huh?

extra notes.

xiao kept glaring at childe the whole day bc of what happened

venti and yoimiya kept asking you two questions but you two would answer them as vague as possible

if anyone is confused, both of your friend groups are also friends with each other! so basically you and scara are in the same circle (your respective friend grps are kinda like. inner circles) but only the two of you don't get along most of the time

why is writing narrations so hard wtf im cringing so bad at this gn

also this story is kinda... fast paced sorry... haha :')

synopsis.

what happens when scaramouche, your rival since the first year of highschool, had some annoying admirers on his back? easy—he (fake) dates you to shoo them off. nothing can possibly go wrong with faking a relationship with the guy you hate, right?

spoiler: apparently, a lot can go wrong.

taglist (open): @niiheng @yinyinggie @ilyuu @veekoko @motherscrustytoenailclippings @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @akairaindrops @kichiyoshi @lxkeeeee @user11918163805279 @sketcheeee @yukiipc @kyouzki @quokkatss @ynverse @yuyumaru @danhenglovebot @sheep-from-rad @gekkow @aeongiies @scararaw @beriiov @thenightsflower @simpforsubmissivemen @sakurapeach @akxtagawaxryxn0sxke @naheana @supernova25

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 4)

Matt Murdock x child!reader

warnings:

a/n: thank you guys so much for waiting patiently for this!!! (except for that one anon who got an attitude with me for not writing this fast enough for them if you’re reading this, learn some manners) anyways, so glad that i finally finished daredevil, now i just gotta push through the last few defenders shows (and catch up on everything else i’ve missed in the past year. haha. fuck.

prompt:

part 1 part 2 part 3

everything was just so shitty.

you had to hold it together and pretend like your dad was just on a very long work trip

it wasn’t like you didn’t plan for this. i mean, you had a dozen notes in his handwriting ready for any occasion, just in case something unexpected happened

to whom it may concern, i have been hired by a client residing in california for an undisclosed amount of time. i will be leaving my child, y/n murdock, in the care of their godfather, franklin nelson. due to my condition, i have granted mr. nelson legal permission to make decisions on y/n’s behalf if i am ever unable to, including this period in time. if you have any questions, please call. matthew murdock.

you read that page over and over again while foggy shuffled around your dad’s apartment, gathering all of your stuff and anything of your dad’s you’d want to hang onto

“you know, marci is fixing up the guest room to be more…you. i think when you see it you’re gonna love it” -foggy

you were half spaced out trying to wrap your head around everything

and you were still so pissed off

it made foggy feel even more guilty

“i got their father killed. if i didn’t bring him that suit, given him my blessing, he’d still be here to raise his kid” -foggy

“you’re being too hard on yourself, foggy bear. the others made it out, he chose to stay. that’s not on you” -marci

“it doesn’t feel like that. i mean, every time i look at y/n i feel like they blame me” -foggy

“blame you? y/n loves you. you’ve always been there for them and they are well aware of that” -marci

you kind of hated karen for a while

i know it’s harsh, but almost every time you saw her, she wanted to give you hope instead of helping you grieve

“maybe he’s still out there somewhere, sweetie” -karen, attempting an embrace

you just wanted her to ditch your old apartment and let you move on with what you had left

on a more lighthearted note, you’d always been welcome in the nelson family

“y/n! honey, come here! lord, foggy, y/n looks like you’ve been starvin’ them!” -foggy’s mom

“aw, no, uncle foggy’s—” -you

“nonsense, dear. theo! fix your lovely [niece/nephew/nibling] a sandwich!” -momma nelson

“mom—” -foggy

“don’t even start, y/n’s in our kitchen now. the nelson meats kitchen”

you always felt best surrounded by all that love

meanwhile, your father laid in the church you grew up with. and no intention of calling you up

“matthew, your child. where are they?” -sister maggie

“they’re safe, safer than they’ve ever been” -matt

you had your days ever since midland circle’s collapse though

some days you could be okay, just getting by. you knew deep down you’d be losing him soon, and you were well prepared

other days were violent fits of rage and sorrow, punching bags and screaming and crying

and a time or two, you’d do it in front of foggy

“he left me! he left me for her and he didn’t even say goodbye! and i’m supposed to forgive him?! fuck him, he chose to do this to me, he’s a piece of shit and he i’m glad he’s gone!” -you, screaming through sobs in the middle of the night

foggy would grab you so tight and wouldn’t let go until you were calm again

and marci would cry to herself as she listened, not fully able to process all of your emotions

but she tried as best as she could, she just didn’t have the deep bond you and foggy did (but she definitely did everything she could for you)

she’d have lil lunch dates with you, just you two

“foggy tells me you got another 100 on your test? that’s always a good thing, especially in a class as tough as that” -marci

“yeah, foggy’s kind of my cheerleader when it comes to that stuff” -you

“any ideas for the day? i could take you to a salon or a game…maybe an arcade or a movie?” -marci

honestly you couldn’t express to her how much she really helped you get through the day

foggy and theo came up with the idea to hire you at the sandwich shop, that way you had something to keep you busy and foggy felt less pressured to help out there

it did help get your mind off things—until little whispers of a familiar vigilante started popping up

the day foggy found out matt was still alive…he wanted to kill him for you

“you’re back! does karen know? oh, matt, y/n’s gonna be so happy, they—they’ve been so down since it all happened—” -foggy

“slow down, foggy. i’m…not actually back. matt murdock, he’s gone” -matt

foggy started to get very frustrated by matt’s explanation

“hold on just a second here, matt. your child—for months on end—has been grieving the loss of their father, wishing they could have him back. i’ve done everything i can to keep that kid afloat, destroyed myself watching them fall apart…and you’re not even gonna consider seeing y/n?” -foggy, beginning to raise his voice and hit the table

“they’re safer without me. just keep them far away from fisk. please.” -matt

foggy didn’t even want to mention it to you. he felt awful keeping secrets from you, but knowing your father was out there and wouldn’t see you? after sacrificing himself for elektra? you’d be a mess

but it didn’t stay secret for long once you and foggy were questioned together by the FBI

you kept cool about it in front of agent nadeem, playing along just right. but once that door closed

“he’s alive?! he’s alive and you just didn’t tell me?! and he met with you, why the hell hasn’t he seen me yet?!” -you, weakly trying to attack foggy as you began to cry, he pulled you in for a hug

“i’m sorry, kid. i’m so sorry. i don’t have a lot of answers right now” -foggy

“where is he? i want to see him” -you

you knew the moment you saw him you’d unleash hell

matt did feel guilty not reuniting with you, you were his only child and you just experienced the same pain he had as a child, but he kept justifying it as “protecting you” much to the sister’s dismay

and plans were hashed not long after, you were left out of them all and put under marci’s care

chinese takeout and a tv show marathon was a great plan until you both picked up your phones, shocked to see an attack going on where your friends and family were supposed to be

you were terrified, but you saw marci terrified, too. you were there for her the same way she always was for you

things blew over, you got out of the house to clear your head

matt went back to the church, still hellbent on ending all this

“matthew…i think you should see y/n. think of all they’ve been through, to see you again would, well, it would be a blessing” -sister maggie

“i have to keep them as far away from this as i can” -matt

“they won’t get too far, being a murdock and all. it’s not just your nature, it’s the name. that name is being thrown around everywhere, maybe you could do the protecting this once” -maggie

“can’t risk it, especially not after this imposter daredevil is on the loose. no morals, no self control, he’s dangerous” -matt

“matthew, what would you do if your father ended up being alive after believing he was gone for so long?” -maggie

that happened to put things into perspective, just the one question

unfortunately he got a bit sidetracked overhearing the prayers of maggie, his mother

but matt couldn’t run or hide from you anymore, couldn’t demand foggy keep you away

so he showed up at foggy’s apartment, knocking on the door gently as he knew you were the only one home

when you looked through the peephole, you saw a battered version of your dad, nothing changes

but you flung that door open so fast and…punched him in the chest a dozen times

“you—piece of shit—motherfucker—how could you?! i hate you! i hate you! selfish asshole!” -you

he let it happen, he thought it’d make you feel better until you wore yourself out

“where the hell were you?” -you, sobbing

“doesn’t matter, i’m here now” -matt

“no, you aren’t. you always have something else come up. always” -you

what an inconvenient time for his phone to ring

you heard the message, you knew he had to be somewhere

that was the first time you felt in the loop in a while, though. hearing the message of where he needed to be. that was all you wanted, was to know what was going on. it was the tiny bit of control you needed

there was nothing glamorous about this life, for sure. the idea of him being out there still made you sick.

fogwell’s gym was the next place you saw him, with agent nadeem and foggy

“really exciting being on fisk’s shitlist, huh?” -you to nadeem, fidgeting with old equipment

“cut it out, y/n” -matt

“what? this isn’t our first time around the block, that’s why we’re hiding here” -you

it’d been a while since you’d been here, you used to hang out cuz “abandoned shit is cool”

you were currently taking your anger and anxiety out on a punching bag, revisiting your old karate lessons from way back when

*while talking testimony with nadeem and foggy* “that is…so distracting. hang on, let me just—” -matt, stopping when his arm was grabbed

“no, they need this. leave it alone” -foggy

matt sighed an nodded, feeling like he was in no place to parent at the moment

karen decided to stand with you and watch

“so…you were right” -you

“you don’t seem too happy about that” -karen

“believe me, wish i could be. but do you recognize him? like, really?” -you

“i…i know. he’s changed. but maybe once this all blows over…i think he’ll go back to himself. be a friend—a dad again” -karen

“sure as hell not to me” -you, scoffing “he’s done picking and choosing when he can be my father. i was always supposed to come first”

karen understood. she knew exactly what you meant and she felt it so deeply, but she wanted for you what she couldn’t have anymore

you hadn’t stopped hitting the punching bag as you talked to her

“can i get it a whirl?” -karen

she got a few good hits in, they were noticed by present company

from there, you stuck with foggy. the least likely of the bunch to get shot!

and court did not go spectacularly either, making you feel just as on edge as before

“y/n, listen, i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. have they ever gotten to you before? no, and it’s gonna stay that way” -matt, cupping your face in his hands to hold as if it were the last, which it was starting to feel that way for the both of you

“you’re not good at promises. you’re gonna leave again” -you, tears beginning to stream down your face

“no, no. well, yeah, for a little bit. it’s fine, y/n, we’re gonna be fine. i love you, okay?” -matt

foggy took you home and you just shut down again. and although there was a LOT of work to do, marci and foggy always made time for you

“y/n, foggy’s making dinner. you wanna help me make dessert? i’m thinking…cupcakes?” -marci

“do we have the good frosting?” -you

“of course, kiddo, i’d never let us run out” -marci, winking

she got a smile out of you and you rushed to the kitchen with her, which lifted both of their spirits of course

but nothing could be calm forever, bodies dropped every minute and you could only wonder “was that my dad?”

and lord help him, he asked for it every day

especially when, after a few more issues arose, he marched straight into the presidential hotel with faux-daredevil

“you…you keep my secret…keep away from my friends…my kid!” -matt

“heh…your kid. ever think they’re gonna follow in your footsteps? you’ll be long gone, i’ll still be here. with them. maybe they’ll be out for revenge, who knows?” -fisk

“you say anything else, vanessa goes down with you. it’s over, fisk. now swear to me, my kid is safe!” -matt

“i swear…just leave vanessa out of it, i’ll leave y/n out of it” -fisk, surrendering

you were watching the news as it happened, stunned, shocked, in awe. it was better than the last time

“foggy let me drink last time they put fisk away” -you

“jesus, weren’t you like, thirteen?” -marci “i mean, now’s fine, that’s about the age i started partying. what the hell? i’ll get the good stuff out. just a little bit though, dont get your hopes up”

(it was like four “little bits” but you weren’t complaining)

you knew it was coming and you acted surprised anyways

“y/n. i am the shittiest dad in the world” -matt

“well aware” -you, arms crossed after he started the conversation that way

“just another chance. i wanna be your dad, i wanna be there for you, you’re like, the best kid anyone could ask for. foggy’s gotta feel pretty lucky having you around” -matt

“last time i gave you another chance to be in my life, you gave it up for elektra. a second time—third if. you count law school” -you

“she’s gone, out of the picture. died under midland circle” -matt, sort of comically waving her off in front of you like he was over it

“yeah? you survived it. and she came back from the dead. how do i know she isn’t gonna pop up out of nowhere again and ruin our relationship again” -you

“i can’t stress enough how little everything matters compared to you right now. i’ll do anything, y/n. i can’t lose you again” -matt

god, you were angry with every word that came out of this mouth. same old spiel. but then again

“i don’t wanna lose you again” -you

matt grinned at you

“i bet you’re smiling back at me” -matt

“you’re on really thin ice, like paper thin. you better cut it out” -you

“that’s fair, i’ll stop…for now” -matt

you did have to go to father lanthom’s funeral, which was a drag. you may not have asked him for as much forgiveness as your dad, but he was still a pretty big part of your life

“hey, y/n. i know i forgot to mention this…but sister maggie? you know her, she’s around. i just found out she’s your grandmother” -matt

“good one” -you, pretending to laugh. matt didn’t laugh though. “you’re not joking? man, you’re telling me that nun is your mom…and you found out when?”

you all went to nelson’s meats afterwards

“so, you make a mean sandwich, i heard” -matt

“im off the clock” -you “and i don’t serve the blind”

“wow, dark! you know that’s discrimination, right? we could take you to court over that. nelson, murdock and page’s first case?” -foggy

“ok, noted. no more blind jokes…is it sound if i don’t serve vigilantes?” -you

“yeah, it’d hold up better in court. having the right to refuse service to anyone” -matt

“hold on, i still can’t get over the fact y/n just said they hate blind people” -karen, nearly snorting

“did not! i’ve only historically hated to blind people…” -you, being stared at for an answer “stick? right, you know?”

“who?” -karen

“alright, can we get back to mourning with nelson’s meats? i mean, we work hard to bury those sorrows in your stomachs” -foggy

“hey! that can be the new slogan!” -you “and your new law firm’s can be ‘we sue teenagers’”

these happened to be your people. no matter what you all went through, you always ended up back here.

BONUS

“can i meet him? spiderman? pleaaaase?” -you

“how many times have we been over this. i didn’t let you meet jessica and i’m not gonna let you meet peter, do you want me to get disbarred?” -matt

BONUS (PT2)

“you’re coming back to new york, right?” -you, over the phone

“of course i am, i told you i just owed a favor to someone out here, i’ll be home soon” -matt

“foggy says that he will take me back if you bail again, and he doesn’t care if i’m legally an adult either” -you

“well, too bad, he can’t have you” -matt

“please don’t tell me you and the she-hulk lady are quote-unquote, ‘friends’” -you

“how do you do that?” -matt

“you’re predictable” -you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @ipurpleeyou // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven // @evilcr0ne // @minxsblog // @v0idl1nq // @sydknee624 // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston //@multifandomfix // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @kik51199 //

[seijorhi]

Hi, bonten ask anon here! Thanks so much for your answer, I really appreciate you taking time to answer our questions and going into detail, it has me kicking my legs reading your writing haha. I admire how much world building you do for each of your fics, and it’s really cool how you’re able to answer questions about minute details! Not to mention that every fic you release is an absolute masterpiece ✨✨

No pressure if it’s too much, but since you mentioned Mikey, Kaku, and Koko being different from the others I asked about, would you mind talking about what they’re like in regards to non-sexual physical intimacy and talking/conversations with reader? Even between the ‘less insane’ ones, I feel like they still range quite a bit on their relationship with reader.

Okay first of all, ily, secondly it is a bold assumption that mikey and Koko are in any way saner than the other three. Less rabid, sure. Saner, hell no dhdhdjjdls

So we’ll start with Koko because he’s probably the closest to your ‘typical’ yandere. Intimacy is a big thing with Koko - in a perfect world he’d have her all to himself, but if he’s forced to share, he’ll take a mile for every inch she reluctantly cedes. He wants the illusion of affection between them; showering together, sweet kisses that inevitably spiral into something more, her curled up on his chest while he works late going through the books. If he had it his way, she’d never be more than an arm’s reach away from him and, ideally, always tucked into his side, her fingers swallowed up beneath his. Koko also just fucking loves kissing, did I mention that?? Man’s never happier than when his tongue is shoved down your throat <33. He wants you to tell him things, wants you to see him as yours as much as you’re his, but that’s one hell of a tightrope for the reader to walk. He does tend to get nasty when that illusion is shattered.

Now Kakucho is a whole lot less fucking delusional. he's sympathetic in that he recognises what they're doing to her is beyond fucked up, but at the same time, he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth either y'know? He’s big on touch, but in a different way to Koko. It’s knuckles grazing against her arm, a hand on her thigh, smoking and drinking with her perched on his lap, his thumb rubbing slow circles against her waist. He’s not all that interested in opening up about his own stuff, but he’ll listen when she eventually – inevitably – ends up coming to him. And maybe he gets a little sick satisfaction out of that too.

Now Mikey… hoo boy. Mikey is a fucking wreck, spiralling towards a bad, bitter end and dragging her down with him. He’s not going to pretend this is healthy, to pretend like he gives a single fuck whether the reader wants to be there or not. He’s starved of genuine human interaction, emotion, all of it, and the reader bears the brunt of that. It’s not necessarily intimacy when he drags her into his chest in bed at night, or when he gets so deep in that dead state that, terrified, she starts to sing a lullaby, or comb through his hair the way that draken used to – anything to bring him back. Mikey is fine without his friends, without his family, without hope. He has her.

[wildlife4life]

Tidbit Tuesday

Thank you for the tags @forthewolves @panbuckley, @prince-buck-diaz, @thewolvesof1998, @spotsandsocks, @jesuisici33, @911onabc, @wikiangela and @devirnis You are all so amazing!

NFL Buck is up to 12k with no end in sight. Haha. But here is a tidbit.

“Eddie, you need friends. Ones that are in the same state, the same city. Tommy, Kealia, your sisters, they are miles away now. I know that they will gladly pick up the phone, answer a text if you need to talk to someone, but having friends who can physically be there for you especially after a tough call, is much more beneficial.” Buck argues. Eddie wants to dispute his boyfriends’ claims.  He has enough friends, he has his family, he has Buck and his son.  He even has Maddie, who is practically his sister as well as Buck’s.  His circle is small, and it needs to stay that way. It’s easier for him, for Evan, for everyone. There are less secrets to keep, little to no lies to tell.  Making new friends means opening up about all the struggles he’s been through to get where he is, sharing his true emotions, his fears and then holding onto a sliver of hope that the judgement that comes afterwards isn’t pitying or unkind. He opens his mouth to tell Buck as much, to tell him that he’s fine being a trustworthy co-worker, a guy to share a beer with here and there, maybe attend one of their cookouts with Christopher to show team comradery.  But Evan knows him too well and sees Eddie’s protest before he probably even thought about them, “Baby, they’re not asking you for your deepest darkest secrets or your entire life story…at least not yet.  What they’re asking is basic get to know you stuff and by being so stubborn and mysterious about it, you’ve only made them more curious. Be less of a mystery, share just a little more but without in depth details on well…me.” The quarterback chuckles, “I have a feeling that a little will go a long way with these people. And if you don’t want to answer, say as much or just redirect. Tell them about some of the calls back in Texas, or hey, better yet start asking about them. Get to know them too. Who knows maybe, just maybe they can become trustworthy enough to share the fact you landed a scorching hot top 5 NFL quarterback.” God his boyfriend was too smart for his own good, and maybe a little too full of himself as well, but its merited. Evan Buckley was stupidly handsome, a very talented athlete, and was giving Eddie great advice.  He just needed to listen and advise by it.

Buck can be very wise I believe, he just doesn't take a lot of his own advise. Hope you all enjoyed! If you want to see more NFL Buck search under the nfl tag on my page.

Tagging: @alyxmastershipper, @brokenribsdiaz, @cowboydiazes, @cowboy-buddie, @911-on-abc, @shortsighted-owl, @thekristen999, @lizzybizzyzzz, @transbuck, @spaceprincessem, @monsterrae1, @try-set-me-on-fire, @bekkachaos, @rogerzsteven, @starlingbite, @housewifebuck, @devirnis, @glorious-spoon, @hippolotamus, @homerforsure, @sibylsleaves

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Natural Satellite [ch 6]

An In Stars and Time AU. In chapter six, the gang faces the King. (Spoiler warning thru Act 4)

It’s been a while since you actually fought the King. Why bother? It’s not like there’s anything waiting on the other side. Just a soppy little coda that doesn’t even resolve anything. No closure. No catharsis. No point. But Isa insisted, about the dagger. He practically begged you. If you go back on your word now, he’ll probably get a lot less cooperative. Which would be inconvenient. And you can’t think of any other way to skip the fight without letting the King kill everyone. (You could bear it, when they wouldn’t remember. But you can’t do it anymore. Not to Isa.) (It hurts to die.) The King is moaning again, whining about his stupid embarrassing ambitions. Ooohh, maybe the real victim is me actually! Maybe you guys should just lay down and die! It might have a little more appeal as a musical number. Give the fight a little razzle-dazzle. But it isn’t. It’s just a huge loser, crying. You zone out.

Watching Siffrin sleep makes Isa’s chest clench. Sif was always a tiny little guy, but they look even smaller in sleep. Hat off, guard down. Hugging their knees to their chest like they’re trying to disappear completely. They might even look peaceful, if not for the dark circles hollowing their eyes. And for the way they keep twitching and flinching, like even their dreams aren’t safe.

Sif circled the tree six times before choosing their spot, fastidious as a housecat. If Isa wasn’t totally spineless, he might have asked if they wanted to rest their head in his lap. N-Not because he wanted them to!!! Or… well. Not exclusively. Mostly it was just because Sif looked so tired. Like it’d been a million years since they last got a sound night’s sleep. And also because it kinda made Isabeau want to cry, watching Sif look around warily before laying his head down on a tree root.

It probably wouldn’t offend them just to ask. Just a simple, Hey, Sif? You look pretty uncomfortable… and I’m just sitting here, so… it really wouldn’t get in my way if you—if you wanted—if you might be more comfortable resting your head on something a little less, um, made of wood? Like, I dunno… a chunk of moss, or a stack of leaves, or... or even j-just my…

But—nope! Haha! Nnnnope!! There’s no point, anyway. Sif would just say no, and then Isa would have to sit here, watching them, knowing that they’d rather stretch out on a bed of nails than entrust their sleep to him.

It’s probably for the best. Being Sif’s pillow would be distracting. (Like, really really really distracting.) And Isa’s got enough on his mind as it is.

If the time loops aren’t a divine blessing to help Mira beat the King, then what are they for? They must be related to Sif, or else he wouldn’t have been stuck here all alone for all this time. But then why would that change now? Why would it happen in the first place?

There’s a stifled squeak. Siffrin, whimpering in his sleep.

Isa’s palms itch. Of course he knows better than to wake Sif up. At this point, it seems pretty clear that restless sleep is still miles better than no sleep at all. Still, he can’t suppress the instinct to reach out, to pet and fuss and soothe. And… maybe Sif wouldn’t mind?

But he’s kidding himself. He already saw how Sif reacted when he tried. Siffrin is quicker and sharper than anyone, but when Isa reached out, they froze like a rabbit. Paralyzed. Afraid.

…Isa did that. He did that to them.

“Stop,” Isabeau whispers to himself, out loud. He needs to focus. Sif just gave him a lot to think about, and his notes won’t stick around for long. He has all these scattered shards, twisty little splinters of a larger picture that must exist. But it feels like all he’s got are edge pieces. Like he’s still missing something central, fundamental.

He just needs a little more data.

* * *

Sure enough, that article is right where Isabeau remembered: tacked to the wall on the first floor, surrounded by hand-drawn sketches and still-lifes.

None of the articles include anything particularly helpful (e.g., say, a list of weaknesses, or an explanation of how the King’s power actually works). Mostly it’s just about how he showed up out of nowhere, and how nobody really knows where he came from. But they do have plenty to say about his fashion sense.

Siffrin frowns at the photo. “Those patterns…”

"On his chest and gauntlets, you mean?" Isa asks, curious. They're not particularly eye-catching. Just a bunch of big diamonds.

"It's just a weird losange," Bonnie huffs. They’ve never had much interest in fashion. "What's so weird about that?

Siffrin just shakes their head. “Those are stars.”

* * *

Sif moves differently now. Isa couldn’t tell back in Dormont, but in the House, it’s unmistakable There’s a leonine grace; a predatory gleam. Sif weaves through the halls like a shark that’s scented blood. Cold, efficient. Utterly without fear. When they sense him, the Sadnesses scatter like minnows. They cower in corners and blunder into walls, blind in their terror.

He doesn’t slow down until they get to the library, where they hesitate in front of one of the shelves, running a finger down the sparkly, rhinestone-studded spine of a book. They don’t open it. But they don’t have to. Isa remembers this part. Mira read it to them just two loops ago. It was a diary, someone’s memory of the day that everyone forgot an entire country. Just thinking about trying to remember gives Isa the beginnings of a headache. And Sif—

Sif asked him to say it anyway.

They looked so serious. Desperate. Like they were hungry for something they couldn’t even name.

The picture tilts. A new variable, sliding into place.

…Oh, Isa thinks to himself. Okay. It’s starting to come together.

* * *

The King’s shadow darkens the entire House, but nowhere more than the third floor. His hair curls around every doorway like the twisting vines of some pallid, lightless plant that only grows deep underground. The air hums with Craft. It makes Isa’s skin prickle, makes the hair on his arms stand up straight. No matter where you go, you can always hear the clamor of the King’s sobs, a wrenching, discordant wail that sounds like it’s being wrung out of him with a wine key. It’s overpowering. Inescapable. Isa doesn’t scare easily—not in a fight, at least—and even he can feel the dread seeping into his blood. Some primal, animal corner of his brain is telling him to run. Run. Run. You’re in danger. You’re not a hunter here. You’re prey.

And just a few steps in front of him, Sif is leading the charge with an impatient little scowl. He looks distracted. Bored. Like they’re waiting in a too-long line at the market.

They know the way, too. Right turn, left turn, pick up the key and track back. A quick stop in Mira’s room, then north for another key. In the corner of his eye, Isa can see Madame Odile eyeing them suspiciously. Siffrin doesn’t seem to notice.

And then they’re at the King.

Isabeau promised not to get in the way this time, and he’s not about to break a promise. He keeps his mouth shut while Siffrin steps forward.

“Where are you from?”

The King looks straight at them. When he brushes his hair aside, Isa can see his eyes burn white. Silver-white, like Siffrin’s. “.....What about you, bright one..... Where are you from?”

Siffrin flinches.

The King laughs.

* * *

* * *

* * *

It’s been a while since you actually fought the King. Why bother? It’s not like there’s anything waiting on the other side. Just a soppy little coda that doesn’t resolve anything. No closure. No catharsis. No point. It doesn’t even tie up any loose ends. Isa’s stupid confession is foreshadowed for the whole script—now that you know what to look for, it’s honestly a little heavy-handed—and by the time the curtain falls, nothing has changed. Chekhov’s gun lies cold on the mantle. At a certain point, it’s just bad writing.

But Isa insisted, about the dagger. He practically begged you. If you go back on your word now, he’ll probably get a lot less cooperative. Which would be inconvenient. And you can’t think of any other way to skip the fight without letting the King kill everyone. (You could bear it, when they wouldn’t remember. But you can’t do it anymore. Not to Isa.)

(It hurts to die.)

The King is moaning again, whining about his stupid embarrassing ambitions. Ooohh, maybe the real victim is me actually! Maybe you guys should just lay down and die! It might have a little more appeal as a musical number. Give the fight a little razzle-dazzle. But it isn’t. It’s just a huge loser, crying.

You zone out.

* * *

You beat the King, obviously. It’s easy now. Buff. Attack. Block. Attack. Bomb. Attack. You’re never even in any real danger, so does it really have to take so long?

The others cheer, after you finish him off. You remember to cheer, too. In the corner of your eye, you can feel Isa’s gaze on you. You do not look back.

* * *

How many times have you been on this rooftop? Probably the number doesn’t matter. All that matters is that nothing ever worked, and nothing ever changed.

There’s too much in your head. You can feel thoughts ticking, tickling, prickling. Where the expanse of possibility should stretch endlessly into the horizon, there’s only history. Hindsight. Nowhere to go but back.

You look at Euphrasie.

Your whole nervous system clenches in on itself. Your blood cold and turgid; your windpipe crusted shut with blackened sugar. Your lips itch. Your throat burns. You Cannot Talk To Her Again.

Your hands twitch toward your dagger.

…But you promised.

“Isa,” you mumble, shuffling toward his corner of the rooftop. “Can I… talk to you?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course! Always!”

“No, I mean. Um. Alone?”

In the background, Odile whistles. You very graciously ignore her.

“Oh!” Isa squeaks. “Y-Yeah, I— Yeah, of course!”

You wonder idly whether he knows that you know what he wanted to tell you, back when that was still something he cared about. Probably he doesn’t. You have a history of obliviousness, apparently. But Isabeau does too.

It doesn’t matter. That’s not what you need to talk to him about.

* * *

You are keenly aware of your family’s eyes on you as Isabeau trails you down the steps and around the corner. You might feel embarrassed, if you didn’t know for a fact that this entire timeline was about to be wiped from existence.

“I can’t talk to her,” you announce, once you’ve decided that you’re out of range.

Isa blinks at you. “Um? To…”

“The Head Housemaiden.”

“...Huh?”

Oh. That’s right. You never explained this part. Probably because you didn’t want to be here. “You know how, even if we beat the King, I still loop back?”

Isa nods.

You nod at Euphrasie. “This is where it happens.”

“Wait, she—” Isabeau looks over his shoulder and then back, goggle-eyed. “Don’t tell me Mira’s mom kills us????”

You can’t suppress a snort. “Um. No. Not like that. I talk to her, and then it’s over.”

“Wa-a-ait,” Isa says slowly. “You mean… Do you mean without dying???”

You shrug.

“But… But wouldn’t that mean—”

“No.”

“But if we could loop back without—”

“No.” He doesn’t understand. Nothing hurts worse than talking to Euphrasie.

Isabeau hesitates. “But… But if she can—”

“I can’t talk to her again.” Just thinking about how hopeful you felt, the first few times—

But that was a long time ago.

Isabeau studies your face. You expect him to press you, but—he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says instead. He exhales slowly, brushes off his hands. “Okay! Then, um, what would you normally do here?”

For just a second, your eye flicks toward your dagger.

“Ah,” Isa says. “Okay, well. Thanks for… not doing that.” He takes a breath, lets it out. “So… what do you wanna do instead?”

“…You could stab me?”

“Sif.”

Yeah, you didn’t really think he was going to go for it. “I could jump off?” You’ve never tried that before. It might be nice to feel something new!

“No???”

You scowl at him. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“...You really can’t talk to her?”

You nod. You really really can’t.

“Could I talk to her?” he asks hopefully.

You shake your head. You know you’re being difficult, but—no. He can’t! And it wouldn’t work, probably, anyway. That’s not how it’s ever worked.

Isabeau heaves a breath. “Okay. Then we just… find another way, right?”

You shrug.

“But we couldn’t figure that out last time,” his eyes flicking toward your shoulder. “We’d have to try something… else, I guess. Um. Do you… have any ideas? About why it didn’t work, or… what we could try instead?”

You think about it. You liked feeling his hand on your shoulder, you think. You think you liked it. But your cloak is thick and sturdy. You could barely even feel him. “Maybe because I couldn’t feel it on my skin?”

“Oh,” Isa whispers. “Um. D-Do you think so?”

Another shrug. What do you know? The only time touch made you loop was—

(—shut up shut up THAT NEVER HAPPENED.)

Isabeau swallows. He wraps one hand around his arm, clutching tight enough to bunch the fabric of his sleeve. “Um…”

You huff a breath. “Sorry. Never mind. It was stupid.”

“N-No!! It’s not that!! It’s just that you’re… kinda all covered up? Except your—um.” He looks away. “Your… f-face.”

…Oh.

You shouldn’t think about it and you are thinking about it, now, irrevocably. Isa’s hand on your cheek. His very warm, very large hand, cradling the side of your face. Fingers brushing your cheekbone, your temple. If you asked him, with your face burning under his touch, to tell you what he’d promised to confess, would he finally do it?

But you can’t risk it. Not here, not now. There are no more second chances. Isabeau’s already trapped here with you. Haven’t you hurt him enough?

“...Sif?”

Carefully, you peel off your gloves.

“Ohh,” Isa breathes. “Are you… D-Did you wanna…”

“I want to stab myself,” you snap, before reining yourself in. “Sorry. No. I just mean, I don’t mind stabbing myself.” It doesn’t take too long, and it always works. And it’s… yours. Not just something happening to you. “But if you wanted to try something else…”

Isa’s hand flits closer. But he doesn’t grab yours. He just—holds it out to you, palm-up. There’s an appealing flush darkening his ears, sweat beading on his brow. It’s silly, really. There’s no reason to be nervous about something like you; something that’s not even a person. But he is. It’s… interesting.

You know that you should feel sorry. You know it should embarrass you. But there’s something appealing about seeing him like this. Disarmed, unarmored. Over-exposed as a shucked oyster. It makes you feel sort of… powerful.

(Disgusting.)

You meet him in the middle. Reach out and trace a line from the tip of his longest finger to the soft skin of his wrist, where his pulse thrums through it. You pretend not to notice the way that he shudders.

“Soft,” you mumble. You’d expected his hands to be tougher, scarred and callused like yours. Especially since he fights with his fists. But you were right about one thing. He is very, very warm.

“I.” His voice comes out choked and strangled. “—have a good skincare routine?”

You snort. The pad of your thumb circles his palm, just to make his breath hitch. You can feel his pulse quicken and that’s interesting, too, so you do it again before uncurling your hand and laying your palm flat against his.

Isa pulls in a shuddering breath. You can see him steeling himself, gathering his courage before he slots his fingers into the spaces between yours and then you’re—holding hands. You’re holding hands. It feels almost familiar. Has someone held your hand before? When you try to remember, the thought twists away.

“Um,” Isa says hoarsely. “So. D-Do you feel—um—loop-y?”

You think about it. “I think you’re being too careful.”

His eyes widen.

“I think it won’t work if you don’t surprise me,” you explain. “Like. Catch me off guard.”

“O-Oh,” he whispers. “Really?”

You nod.

You’re aware that you’re pushing him. Pushing his boundaries; shoving through his comfort zone and out the other side. But that’s because you don’t want to be here.

There’s a reason you stopped coming here. Started asking your questions and ending the loop, instead of beating the King at all. You’re tired of this. Tired of hearing the same fumbling aborted confession. Tired of watching Isa decide that maybe he’d rather not know you, after all. That he’d rather be safe than be yours.

You want to push him. You want to scare him, a little. Make him suffer, make him squirm. It’s only fair, isn’t it? He’s been toying with you for a hundred loops.

(...You’re disgusting.)

Isa scuffs his feet, shifts his weight. “Um. Um… Do you… have any ideas?”

You raise an eyebrow. “If I tell you, it’s not really a surprise, Isa.”

“Haha, yeah!!!!!! I guess you’re right!!!” He looks down at your joined hands and swallows. “And. And you’re sure we can’t just—“

You glare at him and he actually squeaks. It’s cute. No it isn’t, it’s cruel. You’re playing with him, like a kid pulling the wings off a butterfly. Sadistic.

“Okay, okay, okay. No Housemaiden. S-So it just has to be… something you’d never expect…” He falters. “…Promise you won’t get mad?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. It probably depends on what he does.

“Y-Yeah, of course. Of course. And you really won’t—um—I mean—because I could do all the talking…“

“She does all the talking.”

“Okay!!” he squeaks. “S-Sorry!! Then I’ll just—um. L-Let me just try…”

Tentative, slow, he wraps his fingers around your wrist. You have maybe half a second to process what’s happening before he raises your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to your palm, right where it meets your wrist. Sparks under your skin. Lightning on your tongue. You’ve never been more aware of your own nerve endings.

You blink up at him, heat-dazzled, only to find his face burning. Eyes glossy with shame, and—something else. His gaze is locked on the place where he ends and you start but when he senses you staring he catches your eye and it’s— Oh, Stars. Oh, Change or Expressions or Gems, it’s— He’s so desperate. He’s so ashamed. He wants you so much.

(—Not you. Not you. He doesn’t want you, he wants the role you were playing. But it’s hard to remember when he’s so beautiful, and so close. And so hungry. You can see it in the ember of his eyes, burning for you. But he can’t, he shouldn’t, it’s wrong; you’re disgusting and wrong and you know but he’s—he’s looking at you like he can actually see you. Like he could see you and still want you.)

There’s a shift in his stance. Isa, tilting closer, squeezing his eyes shut. He draws your wrist toward his mouth and you realize with terror that he’s going to do it again—except that he can’t, because if he does it again, you can’t be sure what kind of sound you’ll make and the pressure building in your throat feels dangerously like a whimper, and—and if you whimper, then he’ll know; he’ll know that you—he’ll know that you—

[ f e e l   a   t u g   a t   y o ur   s t o m a c h ]

And you wake up in a field.

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