#have i said how much i love love love your characters yet;;

[katsu2ji]

fool for you — m. fushiguro

a/n: i love writing megumi as a cheesy lovesick idiot fool because he IS a cheesy lovesick idiot fool. an oblivious one, at that.

megumi didn't even intend to make a joke. he was being completely serious, talking in that deadpan, monotone voice that everyone around him was all too familiar with. he was talking about gojo, of course—he'd done something stupid, yet again.

despite his intentions (or rather, lack thereof), you thought what he said was funny. he was surprised when he heard you laugh; it was a sound that made him turn his head to the source of the noise, his face a mixture of flustered and confused.

"what? what did i do?" he asked, his eyes wide. he looked over your facial features, committing them all to memory without him even consciously thinking about it. christ, you looked—

"no, it's nothing," you answered, smiling at the boy. "it's just the way you said that just now was funny. sorry, i hope you didn't think i was laughing at you."

he was silent for a few seconds before realizing you had spoken; he blinked, coming back to himself.

god, what was going on with him? he was fine two seconds ago, but now he couldn't even look you in the eye. his stomach was doing some odd thing; he felt like he was simultaneously going to throw up and some, strange, other feeling that he wasn't sure how to describe.

"oh—no, i didn't think you were laughing at me. i just..." he paused, looking for his train of thought, "i didn't think what i said was very funny but, um—"

he mentally cursed himself, feeling like an idiot. why the hell couldn't he speak? why couldn't he look at you?

this had been happening a lot recently—the stuttering over his words, being unable to make eye contact you at certain moments—and with the way it's making him act, he wasn't sure if this an avenue he wanted to keep going down.

he took a breath, feeling his cheeks get hot. he ignored the it as he finished his sentence, "i'm glad i was able to make you laugh, i guess?"

jesus, he probably looked like an moron.

later, as he closed his eyes for bed, he couldn't stop thinking about that exchange. never in his life had he felt like he'd made such a complete and utter fool of himself, but he couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much. and that bothered him even more.

he replayed your laugh in his head over and over, the sound turning over in his mind like a lullaby in a music box. he wasn't sure why the thought of your laughing, the look on your face as you did so, struck him as much as it did.

and that wasn't the first time that had happened when it came to you, either, he reminded himself; there had been other moments when you'd done something that stirred up mysterious feelings inside him, like that one time you grabbed his hand to pull him along somewhere, or when you had slumped over on the train and fallen asleep on his shoulder. his mind was spinning now, keeping him from sleep.

what was it about you? everytime you done something or said something that he had found particularly...endearing...he felt the same feelings that he felt today: the warming of his cheeks, his stomach feeling like it was doing somersaults, his words tripping over his tongue. what was happening? why was he acting so unlike himself? why was he acting so—

his eyes shot open as he pieced everything together.

"oh god," he whispered to himself in the dark, staring up at the ceiling wide eyed and awake. as it finally settled into him why he'd been acting like so stupid around you lately, so completely out of character, he threw his hand up over his face and took a deep, loud breath.

oh god, he thought, repeating himself. i'm fucked.

katsu2ji © 2025. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[peppermint-twst]

Hello, how are you?

So, I kept thinking about your post of Riddle being an stolen child just like Rapunzel and came up with a crazy theory...

So, we know Mrs. Rosehearts planned Riddle's life even before he was born, but what if something happened and the original Riddle died (could be overblot, miscarriage or simply a magic mishap just like Rollo's brother).

Then, mad with grief, she ends up stealing a child, changing their hair colour and pretending that nothing ever happened, though being extra controlling to make sure nothing goes wrong again.

Her husband knows, though, and their relationship is now strained.

You can even Riddle be a lost prince by that logic. With the only reason that he's still alive being his lineage, which meant he could keep up with the training and only overblotted at 17.

(Maybe the royal family blamed the disappearance on the fae too, so political tension with Briar Valley).

Guess we'll have to wait and see what February has in store for us, but I really loved this idea of yours and hope it comes true!

ahhh! it was kinda a joke at first but i really love the theory because Riddle is constantly compared to royalty being the “queen of hearts” of Heartslyabul and when Malleus called him a king so the idea of him being a prince is exciting!

i feel like it could be revealed later in the story because right now it seems like way too big a deal and could overshadow the objective of Chapter 7. but the new Tangled event could drop lots of hints. there’s still so much we don’t know about the world and the characters yet, there’s so much more to explore and i know they’re going to drop even more wild bombshells in the future.

riddle as the replacement son is CRAZY but i could see it happening… remember in chapter 6 riddle said that he doesn’t know if he was born with innate talent or if all his talent was only developed through rigorous hard work, and i think that’s an interesting detail that they included and i wonder if they’ll go back to that because what if he is magically talented because of his lineage? he’s expressed before that he comes from a family of normal mages and has no connection to nobility so like… is there a bigger reason to keep emphasizing how much of a “regular guy” he is? 🤔

thanks for your ask because now i have lots of thoughts

[brucestalia]

Hello! So, I'm new to the entire DC fandom and so far, I believe that Talia and Stephanie are very very underrated and are often used just as a love interest or comic relief without a personality or background of their own, especially Talia herself. I'm not personally a brucetalia shipper because I haven't read the comics that well yet but it sounds cool, before I get into that however, can you recommend any comics that show us the background origin of Talia or something about her that doesn't include Bruce? I wanna know how HER life was, HER motives, HER relationship with her family, because I believe that she is often reduced to an Asian villain who's cruel or a love interest without much personality without violence, which is just basic misogynistic writing. Hope it's not too much trouble, thank you :D (also I love your account sm you're great <3)

thank you for the kind words, and also for the ask!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

both talia and stephanie have been sidelined in ways that reduce their complexity—talia often being flattened into either an exoticized femme fatale or a ruthless villain, and stephanie being dismissed as a sidekick with no lasting impact, when they have so much more depth, history, and agency. talia often gets reduced to either a love interest or a one-dimensional villain - when in reality, she has a rich backstory, complex motivations, and relationships outside of bruce.

her character took a turn for the worse (this is an understatement) because of sheer orientalism, islamophobia and anti-arab sentiment that followed in the years after the 9/11 attacks. [ *i would really not recommend reading anything written by grant morrison (especially if you're trying to get into brutalia..) or tom king. it feels incredibly ooc. there's a lot of prevalent misogyny and racism in the writers' characterisation of talia. ] with that being said, here are some great starting points: batman: birth of the demon batman: son of the demon detective comics #411 batman #232 detective comics #750 president luthor: secret files superman: man of steel #120 batman: our worlds at war batman: death and the maidens batman: the resurrection of ra's al ghul* batman and robin (2009-2011)*

as for stephanie: she also suffers from being overlooked or treated as comic relief, whether it be in canon or fanon depictions. some great reads that explore her character are: detective comics #647-649 robin (1993) #111-120 batman: war games batman: the resurrection of ra’s al ghul batgirl (2009-2011) batgirls (2021-2023) batman r.i.p batman and the outsiders (vol. 2) 

if you ever want more recommendations or discussions on their character arcs, feel free to ask! :D

[nabi-unveiled]

When Dialogue Misses the Mark

Perfect 10 Liners, we ran into a bit of a problem today. You see - I ADORE the Yotha/Gun storyline. Seriously. I didn't enjoy Arc/Arm at all and had largely wrote off this show, but Yotha/Gun brought me back. I've greatly enjoyed watching this black brooder and his crying sunshine navigate their traumas and find comfort in each other.

But your dialogue missed the mark for me today.

I didn't understand how Klao not fighting back met Warich's demands.

It felt like I was missing something in that exchange, but I didn't really care so much. I have ugly thoughts about Warich anyways.

I side-eyed this line A LOT.

Telling a sunshine character that tries to hide his pain behind a smile not to cry? I don't like it one bit. Let the man feel. This situation was scary. But I at least understood the intention, and the rest of the scene was solid. Yotha isn't really saying to hide the pain. He doesn't want Gun to be sad at all, and he's trying to calm him down.

But that brings us to the rest of the episode.

We KNOW Yotha cares about Gun. We know he's commited. But does Gun? He hopes. He wants to believe it. But Yotha has left Gun on read too many times for him to feel fully confident in this relationship yet, and that's not counting the remaining doubts about Wa. Sure Gun's hopeful, but he's also unsure and insecure.

Gun asks for reassurance in why Yotha loves him. Yotha gives a non-answer.

Gun calls him out. Yotha gives another NON-ANSWER that basically reinforces that idea that he needs to be happy and is only valued for being cute. We know what he means, but this isn't valid reassurance for Gun.

Then we got to "the scene". The shots were solid, and the chemistry was on point. But the dialogue left me depressed. I LIKE Yotha. I KNOW Yotha cares about Gun. I BELIEVE they are good for one another. I still wanted to whisk Gun away.

Yotha asks if they can go further. Gun defers saying they're not a couple.

The feelings were there. We had good, solid build up to reach this point. But you can see that Gun is immediately spiraling thinking that Yotha is pulling back because he didn't enthusiastically agree to go further.

Yotha asks for them to be a couple. I KNOW this was supposed to be a squee-inducing moment. But it really didn't feel that way to me. "We can't have sex unless we're a couple? Fine, we're a couple. Happy now?" This dialogue. Woof. It cheapened Yotha's feelings SO MUCH.

Then we reach the dubcon. Now I can generally overlook and even enjoy dubcon with many characters/situations. As long as they're not asleep, the character can typically push back or cave in and the narrative continues. There are often kinks or other factors in play. I'll generally allow it. It's dramaland and not real life after all.

But it's not Gun's nature to push back against Yotha and power dynamics ARE in play. To be frank, he CAN'T push back against Yotha. Yotha even acknowledged the power imbalance earlier in the episode. Gun isn't Rain from LITA with an obvious "no kink". When he said "I don't know", it's because he's still genuinely unsure about where this relationship stands.

He's not playing coy. He's not a brat (generally). Gun's been on an emotional roller coaster, and he hasn't exited the platform yet. HE'S NOT READY. But good puppies obey their owners even when it's something they don't want to do. And that just makes me sad.

Thanks to the dialogue, this whole scene disappointed me. It was nicely filmed. The actors did great. But the writers needed to do better by these characters.

So, I'll go backwards and remain here.

Yotha shielding Gun, and this mutual "are you hurt?" moment. Now that was dialogue worth watching.

[soluversworld]

Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 6!) Final (Rushed)-(Sfw!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don’t interact!-(new tws)

Words: 10000

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)-(This part is Sfw!)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You’re his and he’s yours…

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

Dubious Consent: Themes of physical closeness and intimacy while one party is incapacitated or pretending to be.

Dark Romanticization: Romanticizing toxic and unhealthy dynamics, including possessiveness and dominance.

Control and Power Imbalance: One character exhibits significant control over the other’s vulnerability.

You worked on preparing something in the kitchen, your focus wavered, and before you knew it, you accidentally called out to Sol the way Hyugo always did—“Sunny.”

He blinked, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion as he tilted his head. “Sunny?”

Realizing your slip, you quickly clarified, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, it’s just… Hyugo calls you that. I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could finish, Sol interrupted, his curiosity piqued. “If Hyugo gets to give me a nickname, why can’t you?”

The suggestion made you pause. A nickname for Sol? That felt… oddly intimate. But you couldn’t deny the idea was a little exciting. Your mind raced for something that felt fitting, something uniquely yours to call him.

“Pumpkin,” you blurted out, testing the waters.

Sol’s lips twitched into a soft smile, his crimson-orange eyes lighting up at the suggestion. “Pumpkin, huh?” he repeated, letting the word roll off his tongue. He seemed pleased at first but then placed a finger under his chin, his gaze turning thoughtful as he studied you.

“But,” he began slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, “don’t you think that nickname suits you better?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

He nodded, his tone calm and resolute. “Yes, it suits you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you processed his words. “It’s the nickname you want me to have, huh?” you asked, trying to sound playful, but the warmth in his gaze was almost too much to handle.

“It fits you,” he said simply, smiling as if that was all the explanation needed.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words lingered in the air. Of course, you knew exactly why it felt so familiar. Pumpkin. It was the name he whispered when he thought you were asleep, the name he muttered under his breath during those nights he lingered too close for too long. You bit your lip, trying to push the thought away before it consumed you entirely.

“…I always hear this nickname in my dreams,” you muttered absentmindedly, immediately regretting it when you saw Sol’s eyes widen in surprise. You quickly waved your hand to dismiss it. “Ah, it’s nothing, really.”

But Sol’s reaction was something else entirely. His face softened into a look of pure adoration, as if the idea that you might dream of him made his heart burst. That realization seemed to make him… happy. Dangerously happy.

You coughed awkwardly and tried again. “Alright, how about… babygirl?”

The moment the word left your lips, Sol’s eyes widened like saucers before he let out an uncharacteristic snicker. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his reaction, but within seconds, he broke into full laughter, clutching his stomach as he doubled over.

“Ahahahaha!” he laughed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“Bitch! I’m serious! Stop laughing!” you exclaimed, your face burning with embarrassment. “You’re so cute—ahhh…” That last part slipped out in a mumble, but you couldn’t take it back now.

Sol wiped at his eyes, his laughter finally settling as he caught his breath. “I have no idea where you got that idea, but I’m clearly far from being a… babygirl.” He snickered again, shaking his head. “It’s cute, though.”

“Husband?”

Sol choked on his breath the moment the words left your lips. His head snapped to the side as he desperately tried to hide the deep crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t suppress the ridiculously goofy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, god,” he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking slightly. “You… want to… ahaha—”

You grinned at his flustered state, deciding to push him further.

“Are you sure?” he stammered, glancing at you nervously. “Don’t you think people are going to, you know, take it the wrong way if you start calling me your husband, Y/n?”

You leaned forward, propping your chin in your hand with a teasing glint in your eyes. “I don’t care,” you said with a shrug, smirking at how his blush deepened. “But I think you’ll die of shyness before anyone else says anything.”

He inhaled sharply, his eyes darting everywhere except at you.

“I mean, you do give off husband vibes,” you continued with a giggle.

Sol’s gaze immediately dropped to his lap, his fingers nervously fumbling with the edge of his sleeve as he mumbled under his breath, “You’re killing me…Y/n”

You giggled harder, relishing his reaction. “Alright, alright! I’ll think of something else. But hey—‘husband’ would be so cute, wouldn’t it?”

His ears turned an even darker shade of red as he tried to compose himself, but he was clearly losing the battle.

“This is the final one then!” you declared with a triumphant smile. “Love.”

Sol froze, his entire body stiffening at the sound of the word. A visible shiver ran up his spine as his wide eyes finally met yours.

“L-Love?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, grinning like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse.

The tips of his ears practically glowed crimson as he quickly looked away again, twiddling his thumbs nervously. His leg began to bounce under the table, betraying the nerves he was desperately trying to hide.

“I’m… I’m alright with that,” he finally murmured, his voice unsteady but undeniably sincere.

You couldn’t resist leaning closer, teasing him further. “You sure people won’t take that the wrong way?”

Sol’s lips twitched into a shy smile as he took a deep breath. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind, though… let them know. Let them all know that you only belong to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your face heating up despite yourself.

You prided yourself on being observant—sometimes you thought it was a curse, noticing every little thing about him. But now? Watching the way his shy smile betrayed the possessiveness simmering beneath the surface?

It felt like a blessing.

“Should I think of something else?” you teased, tilting your head as you watched his reaction.

Before you could even finish the thought, Sol sat up abruptly, almost standing, his hands raised in a halting gesture as if to physically stop your words from escaping.

“No—‘Love’ is perfect,” he said, his tone firm but laced with a flicker of surprise. His expression was serious, almost too serious, but the intensity in his eyes spoke volumes.

A slow, knowing smile spread across your face. “Alright, Love,” you said softly, drawing out the word just to see his reaction.

Sol froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before leaning back against the couch. His body seemed to relax, but his eyes told a different story. They were heavy-lidded, clouded with a lovestruck haze, as if the nickname alone had sent him spiraling into a daydream he didn’t want to escape.

His gaze never wavered from you, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. He looked utterly intoxicated, like you’d just become the center of his entire universe—and you savored every second of it.

Your gaze locked with his, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his own. It was intoxicating, overwhelming. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken emotions that threatened to swallow you both whole. Realizing how deep you’d fallen into his stare, you quickly turned away, heat flooding your cheeks.

“I-I need to cook!” you stammered, desperate to break the spell.

You turned toward the kitchen, fumbling with your phone before pulling up a how-to-make-curry video. “Hey, Sol,” you said without looking back, “could you teach me some food art? Like those fancy lunches you used to make for Hyugo?”

Sol tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at your request before a soft, amused smile broke across his face. “You want me to teach you, huh? Sure… But only if I can help.”

“No!” You spun to face him, waving a finger in protest. “You’re injured! Just sit there and be cute.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, his lips forming a perfect pout as he leaned back against the counter. “Fine,” he grumbled, crossing his arms, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

After a moment of gathering ingredients, Sol perked up and began listing off what you’d need for the curry. His voice was calm and instructive, guiding you with ease.

When you finished washing the vegetables, you grabbed the knife, determined to show him you could handle it. But before you could make the first cut, Sol was suddenly beside you, his hand gently covering yours as he slid the knife away.

“Let me,” he said smoothly, picking up the knife and turning to the cutting board with an air of effortless confidence.

“Sol, you’re supposed to be resting!” you scolded, but he ignored you, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

With practiced precision, he chopped each vegetable into perfectly equal pieces, his movements fluid and almost mesmerizing. He finished quickly, setting the knife down with a smug grin.

“Showoff,” you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes at his cocky expression.

“Oh?” His grin widened, and he leaned closer. “You asked for my help, didn’t you?”

Before he could say more, you reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers brushing over his bandaged knuckles. “You’re hurt,” you reminded him softly, your voice filled with concern.

For a moment, Sol froze, his confident facade cracking as his expression softened. His gaze fell to your hands holding his, and something tender flickered in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But he didn’t pull his hand away.

You held his hand a little tighter, looking up at him with a mix of exasperation and affection. “No more sneaky knife tricks, okay?”

He smiled—soft, genuine, and utterly disarming. “Okay,” he said, but the glint in his eye told you he was already planning his next move.

Sol sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible. But fine, if you’re going to be stubborn, let me at least guide you so you don’t chop a finger off.”

You grabbed the knife, determined to prove yourself. “I can manage just fine!” you huffed, setting the carrot on the cutting board and trying to carve it into a petal shape. The result was… less than perfect.

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you—warm, close, and undeniably suffocating. Sol’s hands gently covered yours on the knife, his chest brushing lightly against your back as his breath fanned your ear.

“You’re too tense,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, like honey dripping into your thoughts. “Relax… I’ll show you how.”

Your breath hitched. Relax? How am I supposed to relax when you’re this close?

He adjusted your grip, his hands guiding yours with expert precision. “See? Like this,” he said, his tone a little too soft, a little too seductive.

You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. The warmth of him pressed against you, the way his fingers curled over yours… it was overwhelming. You felt your cheeks heat up, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Does he know what he’s doing?

“Of course I know what I’m doing,” Sol said out of nowhere, very seriously.

Your heart skipped a beat. “W-What?!”

He paused, confused, then smirked knowingly. “I mean… I do know my ways with knifes.“

Can he read my mind?

Somehow, under his guidance—and despite the mess in your head—you managed to cut a carrot petal perfectly. You stared down at the result, momentarily stunned.

“Well done,” Sol said, his hands still lingering over yours. “Should I show you again, or—”

You practically jumped out of his grasp, spinning around with a sheepish smile. “Nope! Got it! Thanks! All good here!” you blurted, waving your hands frantically.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind helping you again.”

“Nope! I’m fine!” you squeaked, your voice higher than usual.

Sol chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said, stepping back with an air of victory.

Your mind raced as you turned back to the cutting board, gripping the knife tightly to ground yourself. Does he know what kind of effect he has on me?

You groaned internally, deciding then and there to never let him cook with you ever again.

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “No! It’s fine! I got it!” you blurted, jumping up with a Mickey Mouse-like squeak, hands flailing as if trying to prove a point. “I got it right! See?” You turned toward the sink in a panic, trying to wash your hands to do something, anything, to distract yourself from his lingering gaze.

But the thoughts swirled around in your mind like a storm. What was it about him? Why did you feel so… lost in him?

Why was everything he did, every word he spoke, making your heart race like this?

Sol tilted his head, frowning as you adamantly refused to let him help prepare dinner. “I’ll just do something easy then, okay? Like juice. No knives, no heavy lifting—safe and simple.” His tone was calm, but his persistence was unyielding.

You sighed, cornered by his determination. “Fine. Orange juice. That’s it. Nothing else,” you said firmly, though your heart raced for an entirely different reason.

Sol moved toward the counter, pulling out oranges and the juicer, you couldn’t shake the gnawing suspicion creeping into your thoughts. Why does he want to help so badly? It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his skills; you knew he was competent—better than you, even. But the darker part of your mind whispered something sinister: He’s going to drug it. That’s what the sleeping pills in his pocket are for, right?

You shook your head, trying to focus on the curry simmering on the stove. Still, your thoughts kept wandering back to the juice. What if he’s planning to make me fall asleep just so he can…

Your pulse quickened. The idea wasn’t entirely unpleasant, which disturbed you even more. Stop it. You’re the one with the upper hand here, you reminded yourself.

Minutes later, Sol handed you a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, a proud smile on his face. “Here. The least painful job, as promised.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, setting it aside on the counter. The curry was boiling hot, nearly ready to serve. You turned off the stove, setting the pot on a trivet. But your mind was already spinning with plans.

“Hey, Sol,” you began, keeping your tone light and casual. “Could you call Hyugo and let him know you’re at my place? You know how he gets if we don’t keep him in the loop.”

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Your phone’s dead, though.”

“Yeah, but yours isn’t,” you countered smoothly. “Just tell him I dragged you here for dinner. I don’t want him thinking you’re in trouble or anything.”

Sol hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Alright. I’ll go step outside and call him.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, you grabbed the glass of juice he’d prepared, a sly grin spreading across your face. Maybe drugged, maybe not, you thought, shaking your head. Doesn’t matter. Not taking chances.

You poured the juice into the sink, washing the glass thoroughly before retrieving a fresh batch from the fridge. You poured the untainted juice into a clean glass, you added a few ice cubes to ensure it would be cold enough to mask any suspicion.

“Let’s see who gets played now,” you muttered under your breath, giggling softly at your own cunning.

The curry was ready, the table set, and the replacement juice sat innocently in its place. You had one last card to play, though—a small vial of medicine you had tucked away. It wasn’t a sedative exactly, but it would mimic the effects, making you feel tired without fully knocking you out. Perfect for your plan.

You dropped a dose into the “safe” glass of juice you’d prepared for yourself. You needed to stay just awake enough to watch Sol’s reaction, to see the cracks in his perfect facade when he thought you were asleep.

Let’s see your demons come out, Sol.

The door opened, and Sol returned, his expression softening as he saw the table set. “Hyugo says hi,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Great,” you replied, motioning for him to sit.

The warmth of the curry lingered on your tongue as you took another bite, humming in delight. Across the table, Sol chuckled softly, savoring his own meal with a small, content smile.

“You should write down the spices you had me add,” you said, swirling the remnants of your curry around with your spoon. “I didn’t think this would turn out so good.”

“Really?” Sol’s eyes sparkled. “You did most of the work. I just pointed a few things out.”

He leaned back, his movements relaxed, yet there was a subtle tension in his frame—like a predator watching its prey.

The conversation drifted to food, and Sol offered casually, “I could send you some of my favorite recipes if you ever want to try making them.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, smiling faintly.

As the room fell into a quiet rhythm, your thoughts wandered, drawn to him. His presence today had been… overwhelming. From the moment he protected you to cooking beside you in the kitchen, Sol had wormed his way into your life in ways that felt far too intimate. It wasn’t just comfort; it was something deeper, darker.

It felt domestic.

It felt… right.

The thought sent a twisted thrill racing through your veins, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. You glanced at Sol, who was casually sipping his juice, his eyes flicking to yours every so often.

You tilted your head back, chugging the last of the orange juice in a single gulp. Sol raised an eyebrow at you, amused, but there was something sharp in his gaze, something that made your pulse quicken.

Your breath hitched. The room seemed warmer than before.

What if he did drug it? The idea had been lurking in the back of your mind all night, and now, with every sluggish beat of your heart, you were almost sure.

And yet…

You didn’t feel fear. You felt exhilaration.

Your mind spiraled. Would he take care of me if I passed out? Would he carry me to my room? Or would I wake up to something… darker? Would I see that beautiful, unhinged side of him fully unleashed?

The weight of your eyelids began to drag, and you couldn’t stop the lazy smile creeping onto your lips.

“What time is it?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“8:45,” Sol replied, his voice smooth but low—almost teasing.

You blinked at him, your vision blurring slightly. Your heart raced even as your body started to betray you. You had overdone it on the dose; the sleepy effects were hitting faster than expected.

“I’ve taken too much of your time, Lo—Sol.” You let out a yawn, barely able to hold back a crazed little laugh at how this was all unfolding. “You… should go home. Right? There’s class tomorrow.”

Sol’s expression softened, his smile laced with something… dangerous. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your stomach twist—half fear, half desire.

“No need to worry about me,” he said, leaning in slightly. “I’m happy you let me in. Happy you trusted me enough to treat my wounds, to share dinner.” His words dripped with sincerity, but his gaze… his gaze was anything but innocent.

You tried to lift a hand to his face, to cup his cheek, but your vision swam. There were three of him now, all staring at you, all wearing the same soft, deranged smile.

“You seem tired, pumpkin,” Sol whispered

Your heart stuttered, a crazed, heady feeling overtaking you. This is it. This is what I wanted. Show me more of you, Sol.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, your words slurred. “Just let me get you… something. You need to g-go home, right?”

The glass slipped from your fingers, shattering against the floor. The sound was distant, muffled, like it came from another world.

And then you saw it.

Sol’s smile stretched wider, darker, and his eyes gleamed with an obsession so raw it almost brought you to tears.

God, I love this. You thought, the corners of your lips twitching into the barest of smirks as your body gave in to the drowsiness.

Just before your vision faded, you caught the glint of his teeth as he whispered something you couldn’t quite make out.

It didn’t matter.

You wanted it.

Beyond your hazy, blurred vision, you caught the faint movement of Sol’s smile—serene, calm, yet undeniably dark. His hand pushed away the untouched glass of orange juice, his fingers lingering as if mocking your little game.

You sly bastard, your mind whispered, every word tinged with a delirious, obsessive warmth. God, fuck you… fuck you… I love you.

Your senses still clung to you, though your body betrayed the act. You were awake—barely. Every sound, every tiny motion, was amplified in the fog of your mind. You could hear him move closer, the scrape of his chair on the floor, the soft crunch of glass underfoot as he stepped toward the sink.

You wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t. He knows… maybe not all of it, but enough. Oh, Sol… you brilliant, twisted soul. Take me.

He turned toward the pitcher of orange juice and the abandoned glass, his gaze unreadable. The slight crunch of a packet in his pocket caught your ears, the sound piercing through the fog like a whisper meant only for you.. those pills. So that’s your game. Were you going to play me, Sol? Or were you testing me?

The thought burned into your chest, clawing its way into your obsessive thoughts.

It doesn’t matter. You stayed, didn’t you? You’re still here… with me. God, I’ll let you win this game if you want, just don’t stop playing with me.

You felt his hands—steady, firm—on your shoulders. His touch was everything. Comforting. Possessive. Sinister. His breath, warm against your neck, sent shivers down your spine.

You’re tasting me already, aren’t you? Savoring me.

He inhaled deeply, the sound deliberate, almost indulgent, as if he couldn’t help himself. The soft tremor that followed made your heart leap even in your lethargic haze.

You wanted to moan. But you couldn’t. All you could do was feel.

His voice broke the silence, soft and low, dripping with tenderness and control.

“Let’s get you to bed, pumpkin.”

Your thoughts spiraled. Pumpkin. That name again… it’s mine, isn’t it? Yours. Ours. Say it again. Say it when you think I’m not listening. Say it while you’re watching me.

He slipped an arm beneath your legs and the other behind your back, lifting you with a gentleness that made your skin ache. His strength surprised you, even through his bandaged wounds. He carried you like you were precious. Fragile. His spouse

Your heart hammered, your chest heavy with a love so twisted it felt like it would tear you apart.

This is what I wanted. This is what I fucking dreamed of. Take me, Sol. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care what you do. Just don’t leave. Don’t leave me alone. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. I’ll make you see that someday. I’ll show you… no one else can give you this.

You felt the rhythmic sway of his steps as he carried you toward your room, his lips moving softly—words you couldn’t quite catch but that you knew were meant for you.

What are you saying, Sol? Sweet nothings? Promises? Confessions? Tell me. Tell me everything. Tell me while you think I can’t hear. I want to live in your darkness… drown in it. You’re perfect. You’re mine.

He laid you down gently, his hands lingering just a little too long as he adjusted you on the bed.

Sol, Sol, Sol… touch me more. Just a little more. Show me everything. Don’t stop now… don’t ever stop.

You felt the covers pulled over you, the fabric brushing against your skin. His fingers brushed against your temple, lingering, soft but firm.

“Heh… Hahaha… Hahahahaha.” Sol’s laughter rang out, soft but unhinged, dripping with the kind of madness that sent chills down your spine and heat rushing to your cheeks.

Oh god, you whispered in your mind, trying to steady the storm of emotions coursing through you.

You didn’t know anymore—was it his broken, chaotic soul you loved, or was it just him, the entirety of him, darkness and all?

“Oh, my darling Y/N,” Sol purred, his voice a velvety mix of affection and possession, “I feel so flattered that you trust me so, so much.”

You giggled silently to yourself. Trust? Oh, Sol… if only you knew the truth. You’d watched him for months, hadn’t you? Studied him from afar, noted every habit, every nuance. You’d been drawn to him long before this moment, long before he thought he had won you.

“Despite meeting me yesterday,” he continued, his tone softening but not losing its edge, “isn’t this proof enough? Proof that you’re meant to be mine, as I was always meant to be yours?”

Your breath hitched. God, the way he spoke, the way his words dug under your skin and coiled around your heart like a vice. You were his… but oh, Sol, how little he knew. You were already more his than he could ever realize.

Your thoughts betrayed you. I want to drown in you, Sol. Kiss you until we’re both breathless. Draw your face over and over, photograph every moment of your obsession, and immortalize it in my mind forever.

He shifted closer, his wicked grin evident even without looking. You felt his breath against your neck, hot and electric, his arms tightening possessively around you. His head rested against your chest, and your traitorous heart thudded faster. You could feel him smiling against your skin.

“Your soul resonates with mine,” he whispered, his voice a low hum that made your blood race. “I can hear it, feel it, see it in the way you linger even in your dreams.”

God, you were burning alive. You could barely keep your thoughts contained. Sol, you’re driving me mad. How can I keep pretending? I want to turn over, look at you, and devour the chaos in your eyes.

Sol snuggled even closer, practically merging with you as his body molded against yours. “I love you so much, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips brushing faintly against your ear. “I want you to realize it, deep in your soul. I want your heart to sing mine’s name. I know it’ll take time… but I’m growing impatient, sweetheart.”

You nearly whimpered, biting down the sound before it could escape. Your pulse betrayed you again, hammering wildly in your chest. He heard it. Oh, you knew he heard it.

His voice dipped lower, as if to himself, but you caught every word. “When will you realize?”

You almost broke then and there, your thoughts screaming. I do, Sol. I do realize. I know exactly what we are, what we’re becoming. You’re chaos and obsession, and I’m the fool who craves it all.

But instead, you stayed silent, pretending to sleep, letting him believe you were entirely under his spell. All the while, you simmered with a deranged kind of love that mirrored his own. You wanted him. God, you wanted him. And soon, you’d let him know just how much.

Your body lay still, but inside, you were burning with a dangerous desire. You had to keep pretending, keep playing this game of sweet dreams and soft whispers, while your mind spun in wicked thoughts of Sol and everything you wanted to do to him.

“Sol… Sol…” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, your voice soft and dreamy, like a confession in the night.

He froze, his heart leaping in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips. His breath hitched as his mind scrambled, unsure if you were truly asleep or if this was some kind of delicious tease. His arms tightened around you instinctively, and you felt the sudden heat of his body pressing into yours.

You let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, as if lost in a dream. “Sol…” you whispered again, dragging it out just enough to make him crave more.

His face was burning now, the heat of his blush almost suffocating. He couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his lips, the kind of smile that was both pure adoration and a little bit dangerous. He believed it — every word you said, every whisper. In his mind, this was confirmation, this was what he had been waiting for, that you truly desired him, just as much as he desired you.

So cute, he thought, watching your lips curl into a peaceful, dreamy expression. It was enough to drive him wild with longing. The way you whispered his name — you were playing, teasing him, and it was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever heard.

“God…” he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse. He felt a tremble run through his body as his grip on you tightened again.

You could hear him, feel his heartbeat picking up as he fought to keep his composure. But you could tell. His weakness was your touch, your words, your presence. The way you acted like a dreamer in his arms, how you whispered his name as though you were lost in the warmth of him.

It was all too much for him to bear. His face burned with a blush that he couldn’t hide, his breath growing shallow as he fought against the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer.

Sol’s breath trembled as he watched your peaceful expression, your lips softly parted, whispering his name again, and again. His chest tightened with something deep, primal, like a yearning that refused to be ignored.

“Dreaming about me…” he murmured, his voice thick with longing, almost trembling with the raw emotion he couldn’t hide. His lips quivered as if they couldn’t contain the truth he felt deep inside. “Ah… Darling, do you love me too?”

His words were low, quiet—he thought you were still asleep, your body gently relaxed in his arms. He didn’t want to disturb you, didn’t want to force an answer. But deep down, he needed to hear it. He needed confirmation that you felt the same way he did.

His heart pounded as he looked at you, as though you were everything he could ever dream of. He felt weak under the weight of his own desire and affection. He whispered again, voice barely a breath, “I need you to know… I love you so much, Y/N.”

The tears that welled in his eyes were a sign of how deeply he cared, how completely he was consumed by you. It was more than obsession. It was devotion, twisted with a dark desire. He didn’t realize that he was slowly losing control, his emotions getting the better of him.

He pulled you a little closer, burying his face in your hair, his breath hitching. “You’re mine, Y/N. No one else.” His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his possessiveness, but also with a tenderness he only allowed himself to feel in this moment with you.

he held you tighter, his lips kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment, his tears mixing with his whispered confession. “I just want you to know… You’re everything to me, darling.” He paused, his voice shaking as he waited for a response he didn’t expect, but desperately craved.

Sol’s breath hitched as he rifled through your closet, his hands trembling with excitement as he pulled out pieces of clothing he planned to steal some clothing… A piece of you he could keep close, something only he could touch. He grinned to himself, the thought of having you so wrapped around him, even in your absence, sending waves of pleasure through his chest.

He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your cheek, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, his voice thick with affection, as he turned to continue his search.

You lay there, eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, feeling the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, but you knew what he wanted—what he always wanted. You felt your thoughts swirl in that dangerous, delicious obsession, but you couldn’t stop it. Not now.

Sol’s arms clung to one of your oversized sweaters as he nuzzled his face into the fabric, inhaling your scent like it was his lifeline. His smile was lazy, lovesick, almost deranged in its intensity. After kissing your cheek and whispering, “I’ll be right back, darling,” he slipped into your closet, leaving you lying there in feigned sleep.

You barely moved, too torn between exhaustion and the thrill of what you knew he was doing. Sol rummaging through your things was almost too perfect a scenario, one you’d dreamed of before, but tonight it was real.

Inside the closet, Sol’s hands moved with almost reverent care as he touched your clothes, holding each piece as though it were sacred. A gleam of mischief lit up his heterochromatic eyes when he decided to “borrow” one of your hoodies. for him to hug.

Then, something caught his eye. A box tucked into the corner of the closet, partially hidden beneath a blanket. Curiosity burned brighter than caution as he crouched down and pulled it into the dim light. His hands were trembling as he opened the lid.

And then… his world shifted.

Photos of him—and Hyugo. Some candid, others blurry as though taken from a distance. Sketches, endless sketches of his face in varying poses, from loving to enraged to serene. Notes and details scribbled in the margins, every single one obsessively accurate.

Bandages. A pencil he hadn’t even realized you’d taken—one he’d lost just days ago. A button from his sweater.

And then there was the journal.

Sol’s fingers brushed over its cover, his breath uneven as he opened it. His name, written over and over again in feverish handwriting. Doodles of hearts, sketches of his profile, and words—declarations, fantasies, phrases that mirrored the chaos in his own mind. It was uncanny. It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

He felt his lips curl into an unhinged look as he flipped through the pages, faster and faster, his eyes devouring every stroke of the pen.

But then, a sound—sharp, sudden, and chilling—broke through his thoughts.

A creak. Like the groan of floorboards or the protest of something heavy shifting. Sol froze, his grip tightening on the journal. Slowly, he turned his head toward the closet door.

“…Y/N?”

The moment Sol turned his head, you were already moving. Before he could react, you were on him, pinning him to the floor with a force that sent the box scattering. Pictures, sketches, and your deepest secrets spilled across the floor like a dam breaking. Sol’s back hit the floor, his wide eyes staring up at you, his lips parted in a silent gasp.

You hovered over him, your hands trembling as they gripped his shoulders—not his neck, not his hands. Not the places that screamed at you to touch. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“I can’t hold you by your neck… because you hate it, don’t you?!” you hissed, your voice breaking, a venomous whisper mixed with something almost tender. “And your hands—I can’t touch those either! Because these hands saved me! They’re too… precious! I know all of this because I saw you too!” Your words were frantic, your breath uneven as your emotions clawed their way out of you, raw and desperate.

His eyes were locked on yours, his mouth slightly agape, but he didn’t move, didn’t resist. His blush deepened, spreading across his pale cheeks, but he stayed silent. Watching. Listening.

You felt your resolve crack further, a sob hitching in your throat as you leaned closer, your voice trembling. “Y-you weren’t supposed to see that! None of that!” You gestured wildly at the journal, the photos, the sketches. “Why couldn’t you just—just stay there? Just lay with me? Why are you so goddamn greedy, Sol?” Your words were sharp, accusing, but your expression betrayed your own obsession, your own twisted love.

“You’ve already stolen so much from me. My heart, my thoughts—hell, a dozen of my clothes! And now, this?!” You gestured to the box again, your voice rising before it cracked into a broken whisper. “You greedy, disgusting bastard… And me? I’m no better. I’m just as bad. Look at us…”

Your words faltered as your gaze met his, and you froze. His face mirrored yours—exactly. The wide, crazed eyes, dilated pupils, blush streaking his cheeks like war paint. His lips quivered, caught between a nervous smile and the urge to speak, but no words came. He just stared at you, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling beneath you.

You were paralyzed by the intensity of it—the horrifying, beautiful realization. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t angry.

He was just like you.

A sick laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the silence. “Look at us… Look at how disgusting we are, Sol! You—stealing my clothes like some lovesick thief. And me? God, I’m worse. So much worse. Hiding this box, drawing you like some obsessed freak… We're—” You choked on your words, tears threatening to spill, but the manic grin on your face remained. "We’re both so fucking far gone. It’s sick. We’re sick.”

And yet… there was something so horribly, perfectly satisfying about it.

Sol lay beneath you, his eyes wide and unblinking, his breath caught in his throat as your words tumbled out in a chaotic symphony of revelation. His lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came. His silence was deafening, his body frozen, his face betraying that strange, terrifying cocktail of shock and… acceptance.

“You… you’ve been stalking me, haven’t you?” you whispered, your voice sickly sweet as you leaned closer, lips brushing just past his ear. “You watched me, didn’t you? Followed me home… went through my things. You even drugged me—or almost did. Almost.” Your laugh was low and breathy, sending shivers down his spine. You could feel it, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath your touch.

And then, with a sudden, wicked grin, you asked, “May I?” Your lips hovered near his neck, the words dripping with teasing affection. He didn’t answer, only inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly. That was enough.

You pressed your lips to his neck, slow and deliberate, and he shuddered under you. His arms moved almost instinctively, wrapping around you as if to anchor himself. His breaths came heavier now, his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes.

“Sol, Sol, Sol…” you murmured against his skin, giggling softly as you pulled back to look at him. His face was a mess of emotions—blush spreading across his cheeks, lips trembling, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with something primal. “Look at you… My beloved, my sweet, sweet Sol.. Is it shocking to see me this crazey?!”

You tilted your head, studying him like an artist admiring their own masterpiece. “I can’t even decide if I should kiss you again or just… hug you forever.” Your laugh broke out again, louder, unhinged. “Ahahaha! Oh, God, I can’t even choose! You make me want everything, Sol! Everything you are!”

Your grin widened further, almost painful, your voice sharp and cutting even as your tone stayed sweet. “That smile of yours… That’s the one, isn’t it? The one that blinds me to everyone else. Like a bright, burning sun that drowns out the whole world. God, you’re so good at pretending to be sweet, but I see you, Sol. I see what’s behind it!”

You pressed your forehead against his, your grin softening, but your words still carried that playful, mocking edge. “You’re a little liar, you know? Just like me. And you know what?” Your voice dropped, almost reverent, as you whispered, “I love it. I love you.”

You paused, giggling again, shaking your head as if you couldn’t believe it yourself. “But let’s not pretend I’m better. Oh, no.” You gestured wildly at the scattered contents of your box. “I’m just as bad as you. Worse, even. Look at all this! I’m a walking red flag, and you—” You leaned back slightly, giving him a once-over, your smile turning teasing. “You’re waving me around like you’re proud.”

Your laughter echoed again, filling the space around you, almost hysterical. “What a pair we make! The obsessed and the obsessive… No, wait—who’s who again?” You tilted your head, smirking. “It doesn’t matter, does it? We’re both disgusting, both broken… and God, isn’t it just perfect?”

Sol’s wide-eyed stare softened just slightly, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. A fragile, deranged thing that mirrored your own.

And as you leaned closer again, your voice dropped to a whisper, still playful, still sharp. “I’ll trash-talk myself all day, darling, but don’t think for a second you’re off the hook. You’re mine, Sol. And I’m yours. So, go ahead…”

You cupped his face again, your grin never faltering. “Say something. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m not exactly what you wanted.”

Your fingers curled into Sol’s shirt with trembling force, clutching it so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, tears pooling in your eyes as you stared down at him. The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, each syllable laced with frustration, desperation, and something raw and terrifying.

“Why? Why aren’t you saying anything?!” Your voice cracked as you shook him slightly, your grip relentless. “Why aren’t you telling me anything?! I know you feel it—I see it! You’re just like me! You’re the same as me!” Tears streamed down your cheeks, but your voice only grew louder, more frantic. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Sol! You—”

You froze mid-sentence, your eyes locking with his. His expression hadn’t changed. Those eyes of his… they were the same as yours. Wide, shimmering, and brimming with something overwhelming—something obsessive. They mirrored your own crazed love-stricken gaze so perfectly it stole the breath from your lungs.

He was silent, utterly still, and yet… there it was. That unshakable devotion, that desperate yearning. It was written all over his face, in the way his lips parted just slightly, the way his breath hitched, the way he clung to you as if letting go would shatter him completely.

Sol’s voice came out almost as a whisper, unsure but laced with a tinge of fear. “How—long have you known…?”

You tilted your head, an innocent smile playing on your lips, though your eyes were anything but innocent.

“What…?” you asked, feigning confusion.

Sol’s gaze dropped, his fingers twitching at his sides. “That I was…watching…you.”

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that bubbled up from deep inside you, the sound light but eerie. “Oh, honey… the correct word is ‘stalking.’ But you know, since a few months now… I knew exactly what you were up to. Every little thing. The way you’d slip in and out when you thought I wasn’t paying attention. The food you tried to drug… oh, how cute it was. But, don’t worry. It wasn’t the first time I noticed.”

His expression faltered, surprise crossing his face, but you could sense a mix of pride and discomfort swirling within him.

“How—and you don’t hate me?” His voice trembled slightly, cracking for the first time.

You leaned in closer, almost toying with him, your voice gentle as you whispered, “No. Not at all.”

Sol’s eyes widened in disbelief, his lips parting as if to say something but then stopping himself. His brows furrowed. “What? I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you hate me?” He asked again, but this time, there was more clarity, more strength in his tone than before.

You smirked, tilting your head to the side, as if you were finally offering him the answer he so desperately wanted. “I don’t have a ‘choice,’ Sol.”

A flicker of confusion danced across his face as his grip tightened slightly around you, as though searching for more answers in your gaze. “What?”

You paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. A soft, almost eerie smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “It’s just that I didn’t have any other choice but to love you.”

His expression faltered, and for the briefest of moments, you saw something almost human—something fragile—cross his face. A flush crept up his cheeks, though his eyes remained sharp, guarded.

“You basically own me now, Sol,” you said quietly, your voice unshaken. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride in the way the words fell from your lips. You weren’t afraid. You were comfortable in this.

And then, softly, hesitantly, he finally spoke. His voice was fragile, almost trembling, as if the question itself might break him. “Do you… love me?”

The room fell into a suffocating silence. His words hung in the air, heavy and vulnerable, cutting through your spiraling emotions like a knife. For a moment, you were stunned into silence, your grip loosening slightly on his shirt.

That’s what he was worried about? After everything—after the stalking, the stealing, the obsession—that’s what he cared about? Your mind raced, trying to process the absurdity of it all.

But as you stared at him, at the raw, unguarded emotion in his eyes, something shifted. All the anger, all the chaos inside you seemed to pause, replaced by a single, undeniable truth.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you answered, your own vulnerability slipping through. “Sol…” Your hands trembled against his chest. “Of course I love you.” Your voice cracked on the last word, tears slipping down your cheeks. “How could I not? You’ve consumed me. You’re all I ever think about. All I ever want. All I ever need.”

His lips quivered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he searched your face for any hint of deceit. But there was none. Just raw, terrifying honesty.

“I love you,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice breaking as you clung to him. “And I hate it, Sol. I hate how much I love you. I hate what it’s turned me into. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”

His arms wrapped around you suddenly, pulling you against him with a force that stole your breath. His body trembled as he buried his face in your shoulder, his voice muffled and shaky. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “So long…”

You didn’t need to say anything more. Just the way you looked at him spoke volumes. There was a darkness to your smile, a chilling calmness that matched his own twisted nature. You leaned in slightly, your voice low and almost pleading, but still with an air of authority, “Don’t ever leave me, Sol.”

His breath hitched. He froze for a moment, his hand instinctively reaching for his head, his fingers gripping it tightly, as though he could escape the weight of the words you just laid upon him.

“That won’t happen,” he murmured, voice thick with a promise that both scared and thrilled you.

Before you could respond, before you could even process what was happening, Sol closed the distance between you, his hand coming to the back of your head. He pulled you in closer, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

There was no gentleness in it, only a raw, desperate need—a desire to consume, to possess, to claim. His kiss was demanding, as though he couldn’t wait any longer to have you all to himself. It was everything you wanted, everything you needed.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room, but neither of you seemed ready to face it. The silence was comfortable, the weight of your shared night still lingering in the air. Sol’s steady breathing against you was soothing, and it made it hard to even think about moving. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, as if he feared you’d vanish if he let go.

You lay there, with your head resting on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. Everything felt so surreal. After everything—the madness, the obsession, the twisted love—you were here. Together. And for a brief, beautiful moment, you couldn’t find a single reason to pull away.

Sol shifted slightly, his voice a soft whisper in the stillness of the room. "Is this… is this the first time I’ve slept well in a while?”

You paused, taking in his words, unsure how to respond. He had told you things, bits and pieces of his own brokenness, but this was different. This was the side of Sol that you never really expected to see—the one that wasn’t in control, the one who needed something, someone.

“Yeah,” he murmured, almost to himself. “After everything… with you, it feels… different.”

The quiet lingered between you, but neither of you rushed to fill it with words. The kiss, the emotions that came with it, and the truth that had been laid bare—none of it was easy to digest. But somehow, it felt right. Neither of you had to say much. The bond was there, thickening around you like an unspoken promise.

For once, Sol wasn’t the one in control. For once, he just wanted to stay there with you.

You lightly brushed a strand of hair from his face, gazing down at him, trying to make sense of the situation. It was strange, how the person who had been stalking you, watching your every move, could now look so… innocent. After everything you’d gone through together, after the craziness of the past few days, here he was, holding you like you were the one thing that could keep him grounded.

Your fingers brushed his cheek gently, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, Sol,” you whispered, “the soul you are…”

Sol didn’t respond immediately, his arms tightening slightly around you, pulling you in closer. He wasn’t saying anything, but his presence spoke volumes. His usual intensity had faded, replaced by a softness, like he was content. Almost like he was at peace for the first time in a long time.

It was funny. You’d expected so much resistance, so much chaos between the two of you. But instead, Sol had become… almost like a puppy. Gentle, needy, and completely devoted now that you’d given him what he wanted—a relationship. The storm inside him had quieted, and now he just wanted you. All of you.

He nuzzled his face against your neck, letting out a small, contented sigh.

The morning light streamed through the window, but neither of you seemed eager to face the reality outside. You could feel Sol’s arms tightening around you, his grip almost possessive, like he didn’t want to let you go—not now, not ever. His presence was soothing yet consuming, and despite everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. He simply held you, content and silent.

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of your thoughts press down on you. “Sol,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, “We have school today.”

But even as you said it, you didn’t move. Sol didn’t either. His gaze shifted to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that you had come to recognize all too well. Then, that damned smile of his—bright and blinding like the sun—spread across his face. He closed his eyes again, nuzzling his head into your neck, as if the world outside didn’t matter.

You smiled in return, that same small, knowing smile, as you closed your eyes. Skipping a day doesn’t matter, you thought, feeling your heartbeat steady as you lay there with him, cocooned in the quiet warmth of the moment.

You didn’t know what was happening. You didn’t know if it was the obsession, or just the way Sol had slowly wormed his way into your heart. Part of you wondered if you were truly in love with him, with his darkness, or if you had fallen for something else—his childlike, innocent need for you, perhaps. But one thing was certain. You were in love with something dark.

Something inside you whispered that it didn’t matter what it was, as long as you had him. You felt yourself sinking deeper into him, losing track of what was real and what was just a product of your twisted desires.

The day could wait. Everything could wait. You were here, with him, ad that’s!

……………………

………………………………………..

……………………………………………………………………

Your thoughts twisted in a way you hadn’t fully expected. Sol’s warm body pressed against yours was all you could focus on, as his steady breathing filled the space between you. His presence was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but wonder how far you’d fallen into this spiral.

Is this what love feels like?

You couldn’t stop the question from swirling in your mind, but you weren’t sure if it was love anymore. Not the kind they talked about in fairy tales, not the kind people dreamt of. This felt different—darker, somehow. The way he clung to you, the way he needed you, it was suffocating yet strangely comforting.

It’s like I’m his obsession, his world, and I can’t escape it. But I don’t want to.

His grip on you, though tender, felt possessive—like he was marking his territory. Your heart fluttered, but not from nervousness. There was something wrong with the way you craved his touch, the way you wanted him to tighten his hold on you.

You tried to brush the thought away, but it lingered like a haunting whisper in the back of your mind. What if this is all I’ve ever wanted? To be owned, to be the center of his world?

You looked down at him, the boy who had slowly seeped into your life, becoming the very air you breathed. His face, soft and serene in sleep, looked almost innocent. But you knew better. He wasn’t innocent. Not with that smile. Not with that darkness lurking in his eyes whenever he was awake.

Do I want to be the one to tame him? The thought came unbidden, a dangerous curiosity taking root. But you weren’t scared. No, you were… enthralled.

He stirred slightly, his breath tickling your neck as his lips brushed against your skin. You felt that familiar thrill course through you, the dark and twisted desire that you couldn’t stop. You wanted to taste his madness, wanted to pull him deeper into the abyss with you. You both were tangled in this web of obsession, and it felt like the only thing that made sense.

God, what is wrong with me?

The question was fleeting, a mere afterthought to the way your heart sped up when he pulled you closer. You didn’t care anymore.

You’re mine, Sol. I’m yours. Forever. The thought was clear, possessive, and there was no escape from it. You smiled to yourself, knowing deep down that you were just as tangled in this as he was.

And that was exactly how you wanted it.

Thank you for everyone who read this series, TBH the ending is rushed. I wasn’t able to write it much any longer I wanted to end it. I’m sorry if the ‘ending’ is bad. I was just pointing out two things Reader only started to love the side of his true self than himself. It has to be messed up. I hope i didn’t ruin anyone’s day with it. I wanna thank to everyone who supported me it was really fun to write…I guess it’s time to wrap up! Please send comments I like reading them and replying I’m so sorry Comments make me happy.

A important note too, Please tell me a review of this fic if you can! It has to be truth! I don’t mind some tips I WANT THEM. It’s also okay if you didn’t like it. That’s exactly why I did what I did. If you cringed even one time, Just know that it was a trap by me.

[paladinsbrainrot]

hello just wanted to say I think you’re really cool and I love your art!! I also LOVE romike too, super excited for their dynamic in s5

I’d love to hear your thoughts on them and if you have any predictions/theories/things you’d like to see with them next season :]

OHHHHH MY GOD thank you this is such an amazing question !!!! so sorry it took me so long to answer however i have very many Thoughts™

the idea of robin and mike being friends is soooo dear to me you don't even understand. romike has been on my mind since before s4 even came out #Tbh I just think that they are so similar and tethered and it's just so shocking that they haven't properly interacted yet!!!

obviously I think romike first came to fruition through the idea that robin would act like a gay mentor to mike and kind of guide him to realize his feelings for will, but they're so much more than this mentor/mentee relationship. not only would it be an interesting dynamic to explore as they have barely interacted, but they are literally both Anxiety As A Person and their personalities would compliment each other so well. mike's reluctance to open up to people & robin's willingness to ramble to anyone she meets? sign me up. both are bottling up their emotions in totally different ways. i would live for them awkwardly bumping into each other and mike finding her annoying at first but then realizing she is literally his carbon copy and that they are so much more alike than he first thought. (I would argue that they are literally madwheeler 2.0 sans the bitchiness.) them both bonding over the fact that they have trouble expressing their emotions and that they feel like outsiders????? them both realizing they are stuck in the same boat and using each other as an outlet to open up (+ it would be way easier for them to talk about these things because they aren't super close)????? hEllooooo duffers Are u seeing this?????? their dynamic would be so interesting if they don't write it I'm going to have to do it myself.

as for general predictions/theories..... oh boy I have Lots!!!!

I think that the writers are leaning more towards a rowill focus than a romike one this season so I don't think we will see as much as them as I would hope for. BUT this post gives me the idea that we will get a bunch of romikewill scenes on the farm with maybe a dash of one-on-one romike content sprinkled in there for the wellbeing of the people (the people being me and the other two romike fans on this app). as much as I love romike I think will and robin are the characters who Need to talk to each other the most because they're both still closeted. though as I said before I pray that the duffers will realize the potential that romike has as well 🙏

so I've basically done a whole lot of rambling and haven't even answered your question so I'm just gonna get straight to what I want for them this szn if this were my perfect world 🎉

I have this one recurring dream that mainly only exists because of a fic I wrote an extremely long time ago but basicalllyyy the essence of it was that mike and el were in this weird phase in their relationship where they were distant, awkward, and were almost uncomfortable around each other? so mike, incredibly frustrated and fed up with this, starts acting moody and withdrawn from everyone else. also bc this is s5 lets just add the fact that his sister is missing, he just got beat up by the school bullies, and maybe he and will got into the painting fight or something. so just imagine mike being almost reclusive and reserved on the farm set. maybe robin notices his lack of exuberance (that's probably not the right word but whatever) and decides to take matters into her own hands. she asks what his deal is and if he's doing all right with everything going on. mike pretends he's super annoyed by her because of all the questions she asks him but maybe she makes some offhand remark about how they're stuck on this stupid farm and it'll only get worse if he keeps acting like this. (and also, they have bigger issues to worry about!) so mike, quickly realizing that robin is literally the only person on this farm that is there for him to talk to, opens up to her a little reluctantly about everything going on with him. it's important that this is a slow process and that he doesn't dump everything on her at once. maybe he says that he doesn't know what he's doing with his and el's relationship and how will's not talking to him and that he feels he keeps screwing things up with the people he cares about the most. insert moment of robin being robin and clearing up the air, relieving the tension off mike's shoulders, and also giving him some very valuable advice!! obviously there's much more here to explore upon but the general gist of it is that they become much closer after this. robin learns that she can open up to mike too, about how some "person" that she's interested in is giving her mixed signals and how she is actually very scared about the end of the world but feels like she has to deflect everything with humour. they learn they are able to confide in each other and boom romike world domination!!!

I kind of what them to be like a mix of steve & robin and mike & nancy and mike & max, if that makes sense. like steve and robin's closeness, mike and nancy's worry about each other, and mike and max's bickering and (loving) malice. Idk mike is very irritable and snarky and robin is very direct and straightforward and also very tentative so I think their dynamic would just feel natural and compliment each of their personalities!!

I also think their dynamic could be veryyy beneficial to discovering the key to destroying vecna once and for all !!! these two are arguably the smartest characters on the show and work in very like minded ways. robin figured out when blue meets yellow in the west (cough) and that music is the key to getting out of vecna's mindscapes. mike has had wayyy too many clutch moments during the show that I can't mention here otherwise this post would get too long, but you get the point. putting both of their brains together might help our characters figure out how to end this battle. this script that maya hawke posted a while back that features both of mike and robin's names makes me very hopeful that this will be a possibility in s5. (potential st5 spoilers incoming ->) my current running Theory is that mike and robin discover that the military or hnl (is it still running in s5? idk) are running experiments on kids again and use the mccorkle farm and subsequent tunnels underneath to help the kids escape. (mayhaps this is how derek ends up on the farm after being spotted with the military??? idk.)

I am trying not to get my hopes up about robin and mike being spotted at hawkins lab together (potentially with el and will too 👀) but I have a feeling that this is related to whatever was going on in the tunnels. I have No Clue about what is going down at hawkins lab but one can only hope that they are there because the gang realized they needed two of the smartest people as well as the two strongest/most powerful to figure out the situation with the gates. great minds think alike or something like that!!!

this is more leaning towards romikewill territory but Idk I would just liveeeee for a scene of robin picking up on the labyrinthine circumstance that is will & mike's relationship and teasing mike about it !!! and in return I would like a Lot of mike teasing robin about vickie. I think (key word Think) vickie is on the farm with them so I need lots of scenes of robin not so subtly flirting with vickie and vickie flirting back and giggling like a maniac and mike noticing out of the corner of his eye and smiling. i want him to go up to robin later and just whisper shout that vickie is soooo into her. something similar happening with byler and robin noticing would also be very plausible. i just think it would be so sweet for mike and robin to see themselves in their friends and the people around them to help guide them towards their self-acceptance arcs, and learn that there is some hope for them after all ☹️ the only thing I don't want to see is only one of them being used just to further the romantic advances in the other's story. like I don't want the only reason robin interacts with will and mike in s5 to be to help guide byler towards e/o or for mike to do the same thing with rovickie!! it's important that they both realize that having queer friends is just as significant, and that they both are able to confide in each other about their struggles and worries, whether it's about their relationship or not.

there was also this one leak from early 2024 (another leak warning if you haven't clicked off this post already) that stated that mike and robin had a few scenes together because mike was worried about will, and robin was worried about vickie, and bonded because of this. I think this is a much more plausible way for them to start talking to each other than that scenario I mentioned earlier lol. I really hope that vickie is related to derek or the turnbows in some capacity; it would make her such less of a random character and also give robin a reason to be worried about her (and would also tie into them helping derek escape and the fact that he's on the farm with the rest of them). romike confiding in each other about the fact that they feel like they are useless/can't save the people they love AUGHHHH give it to me now . (edit: the leak is mentioned somewhere in this post you just may have to dig for it)

this post is very long and a total incoherent ramble so I am Very sorry but unfortunately I will never be normal about romike a day in my life. @willelworld (my lovely fellow romike enthusiast!) made a very great point in this post that I would like to end off with because it just sums up what is so perfect about them:

I really hope that my favourite adhd losers will be able to bond over their social incompetencies and sexualities and suppressed emotions and so much more in st5!!!! they just have such best friend material so I hope the duffers do not waste this absolute perfect opportunity to write a queerplatonic friendship ^_^

[lurkingshan]

I have a lot of feelings about The Story of Minglan (which I finally watched!) and its themes about patriarchy and class and intergenerational trauma and striving for survival under an oppressive system that demands fealty and will never just let you live by your own choices. We saw in every major storyline that these characters were granted no peace to live the way they wanted. Tingye had to fight for years to recover his reputation and attain status to give himself the freedom to build the family he wanted. Minglan had to battle through several unwanted attachments and couldn’t live a day in peace without someone trying to foist concubines on her or demand she use her status to buoy them. Heng was forced into marriages he didn’t want and had to give up the only wife he actually desired for the sake of soothing powerful egos, because the cost of not meeting those demands was actual life or death for his clan. In this story even the eventual emperor was not the emperor by choice—he was forced into the position as a matter of survival. There’s so much to unpack in this drama and it is far more than a romance.

That said, one of the most interesting things it did from a romance perspective is give us a smart, competent battle couple that spent nearly half of the drama married to each other despite being on the slowest of slow burn arcs to arrive at mutual love and affection. Ostensibly, you could call them a battle couple right from the jump in that they were a united front against enemies, backed each other up without fail, and talked together about (most of) their plans and schemes. But even as all of that was true, they were not on the same emotional wavelength, and they struggled to understand each other.

This is a couple that first connected and established some baseline trust in each other as children and always believed in each other’s intelligence and good character, and yet when they married as adults, they wanted completely different things from their marriage. Tingye wanted to be in love with his wife, and was, and couldn’t understand why it didn’t feel mutual. Minglan wanted to live up to the ideal image for a respectful and competent wife of that era, and did, and couldn’t understand why her husband was so discontent. As @dangermousie pointed out here, these are both trauma responses that make perfect sense given each of their backgrounds. And while the drama milked a lot of comedy out of their inability to understand each other on this impasse, I also found it so sad that their past trauma made it hard for them to communicate past this divide, and for Minglan to open herself to the vulnerability of loving someone.

I’ve seen a lot of complaints from viewers who were mostly here for the romance about how long it took for them to get on the same page. While there were definitely moments when I was ready to bang their heads together out of frustration, the fact that it took several years in story time for Tingye to effectively communicate that he genuinely wanted the real Minglan, and for Minglan to believe that and trust him enough to let her emotional guard down, is what makes it feel so well-earned and rewarding when they finally get there. It’s rare to get the luxury of sitting in a fictional world for this long to watch traumatized people slowly heal via their love for each other and build the family they want with each other. And it’s because we got to see that whole process that I feel confident their happy ending will stick.

[everestgale]

ev you will not believe who i'm about to toss your way it's an actual curveball you will not see it coming in a million years

for the ask game can i ask for,, bro ken.....

Pareidolla asking about Broken? I would've never seen this coming! /lh /j

[Send Me a Character and I'll List Ask Game]

favorite thing about them

Perhaps I'm a little boring, but my favorite thing about Broken is just how much he changes in Paranoid!Apotheosis route, and how both Hero and Paranoid are actually able to get through to him, to help him see beyond his "perfect goddess". I talked about it a lot in Paranoid's character ask (platonic ParaBroken gives me so much life-), so I'll leave it here for anyone who wanted to read it in more detail <3

It's just... very sweet and encouraging to see someone who hit practically rock bottom in the prior chapter, someone who was so blindsighted and so sure of their inferiority... being able to believe in themselves with the right support system. ARGH, new Apotheosis still lives rent-free in my head ( T v T )

least favorite thing about them

I can't think of anything I dislike about Broken now... but I will use this question to confess that I used to be Broken hater- (not actually a hater, but he was my least favorite, and I was very open about that-)

LOOK, I'M SORRY!!! I was a fool, and I realized that even before the Pristine Cut dropped. I was too annoyed by how much of a wet noodle he was during the Tower that I ignored pretty much everything else about him for my first two months in the fandom 😭 But I'm a changed person now, and I have been since maybe March or April of last year, Broken my beloved, I'm sorry...

favorite line

"But... I love her."

"But it's not enough to stop us, is it? We're going to make it to her."

These two lines from Apotheosis absolutely destroyed my heart (in a good way) and made me squeal when I played through it for the first time.

"I think we are happy, actually. We might not be part of her. But being around her is almost the same. Almost."

"I'm going to stick around as long as you need me to."

brOTP

Besides ParaBroken that I already rambled about in great detail in Paranoid's post... I think I wanna say StubbornBroken, there is something sibling-like in their relationship that speaks to me, like an "ugh, great, I have to deal with you" lighthearted attitude that applies both ways, if that makes sense. Or if anything I said makes sense, really.

Personally, I like to imagine that in the post-ending scenario, the two of them have a strong friendship, with Stubborn helping Broken to not be as mopey as often, and with Broken helping Stubborn to slow down and not get himself excessively injured (especially since in my version of post-ending scenario, voices can actually die)... I also just think it would be funny if Stubborn self-appointed himself Broken's personal trainer, and Broken was having none of that /lh

OTP

I'm not sure if I have a solid OTP for Broken; I have a few ships I kind of like, but nothing that I go crazy over like ParaHero or Skeptunist. I really like CageBroken, there are some lovely lines that Broken says during that route, he is so considerate and gentle towards her:

"The poor thing... she thinks it's easier to be detached. But buried pain is still pain, whether she knows it or not."

"She's sacrificed a lot to get here. More than we did, I think."

I also like the idea of SmittenBroken, with both of them recovering from their unhealthy devotions to their respective Princesses... But I haven't really explored that idea too much yet (SmittenBroken shippers didn't get to me yet, but they likely will succeed if they do /lh)

Honorable mention goes to CheatedBroken because of a specific, interdimensional version of it that I really, really like :]

nOTP

Don't think I have any! The closest would probably be TowerBroken, but it's such an interesting exploration of an imbalanced / abusive relationship, with room for reconciliation (especially with new Apotheosis), that I can't put it as a nOTP.

random headcanon

I headcanon that my Broken has a mild case of chronic fatigue syndrome. I keep imagining him as a low-energy person, who generally prefers calmer and less energy-intensive activities, and so making this partially be a result of a physical condition made sense to me.

Disclaimer: I'm no medical professional, and I don't have CFS myself (at least I don't think so). I try my best to do research to write it accurately and respectfully, but if I make any mistakes in my portrayal of CFS with this HC, my sincerest apologies! You are always welcome to correct me in DMs or send me an ask about it <3

unpopular opinion

I'm not sure how unpopular of an opinion it is, but I very much subscribe to the idea that post-ending Broken was greatly affected by Paranoid!Apotheosis, and I write pretty much every scenario (that's not in-game canon) from that perspective. Am I being reductive in his character? Maybe, I can't tell, and I hope I'm not, but I really, really, really like Broken's start of recovery in Apotheosis, and I can't help but want to push that line of thinking with his character ( T v T )

song i associate with them

I love Anti Beat by DECO*27 as a weird mix / duet between Tower and Broken... so not 100% Broken song, but I'll include it here anyway:

"What part of me do you like?

If you tell me, I'll do anything for you

If I’m told “I love all of you, every single part”,

I’ll just be filled with hate

I absolutely detest the “me” that you love

Listen to this selfishness of mine!"

"All that you’ve done for me, all that you’ve given me, it has turned me into such a mess"

favorite picture of them

I genuinely love and adore how my unbroken Broken during the Wild turned out. I also love sharing the fact that Broken is supposed to be a very soft, fluffy bird (in terms of his plumage / feathers) because he is based on a dove species... but as a result of the game events, he lost about half of his feathers. Poor Broken :[

[witchygagirlwrites]

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader

Part 2 of Dynasty

Can a broken heart still beat?

Warnings: Character death, depression, drug use, suicide, reading of a suicide note, true love not letting death get in the way? Idk where this came from, no wait I do! blame @desimarie12

Mouse sat in the chair next to your bed, eyes never leaving your face. The solid sound of the machine helping your lungs push air through your body was the only sound in the room. Every moment that ticked by and you clung to life was a moment he managed to draw a breath. Twenty four hours, that was what the doctor told them. You were closing in on eighteen hours and still holding on. 

The door cracked open and he didn’t have to look up to know it was Erin and Jay. They hadn’t left the hospital either but they’d stayed in the waiting room throughout the night until visiting hours rolled back into effect or well until Sergeant Benson called in a favor and suddenly it didn’t matter if the three of them were all in your room or not as long as they stayed out of the way. “She’s still holding on man” Jay spoke softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He nodded slowly “Holding on is a lot different than waking up Jay. She’s strong, she’s so damn strong but what if her body can’t handle this?” even simply giving voice to the thought was enough to force another round of tears from his eyes, they slid silently down his face. Erin stepped up next to him, slipping her hand down in his and squeezing it gently “If there’s any way for her to find her way back to you she will. She loves you so much” 

He squeezed her hand back, wishing he could offer her some word of comfort. You would want him to, that was your best friend but any word fell flat on his lips. He didn’t blame her by no means, he would never do that simply because he knew you. If an innocent person was in danger around you, especially a kid? Nothing would’ve stopped you from saving them. Even at the expense of yourself.  “This isn’t your fault Erin” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly and he could hear her inhale sharply before she said “I called her to this task force Mouse” 

He cut his eyes up at her and saw tears sliding down her face “Don’t mourn her yet Erin, please. I can’t…I can’t handle that” she nodded, wiping at her eyes “I’m sorry” and turned to walk out. Jay looked back at him then at the door “I’ll go check on her. If you need anything man, just yell.I’ll be right outside” 

Mouse listened to Jay leave and thought to himself, how would Jay ever give him what he needed? What he needed was for you to wake up. For those beautiful eyes to be looking back at him, that smile you had anytime you were hurt and trying to hide it plastered on your face and you joking about the fact that you wanted a vacation to New York City but maybe not like this. That was what he needed.  

He leaned up to let his hand brush against yours, fingers curling around yours “Baby, I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m here. Jay’s here too and Erin. The moment Erin called me and Jay got on a plane. I haven’t left your side. I’m not leaving your side. You are everything to me, you hear me? Everything. So I really need you to wake up. Whatever you want is yours. Every argument the rest of our lives you’ve now won before they ever start. You want to steal my coffee every day? It’s yours. Hog the blankets? Please take em. Have the water so hot in the shower I swear it’s gonna scald us both? It’ll be fine, we know plenty of good doctors. I just need you to wake up..Please baby wake up” he could feel the tears flowing down his face but he didn’t care you were still holding on for something, he was praying for the first time in his life that the something was him.He was praying that you were fighting to come back to him. He couldn’t do this without you. He didn’t want to.

When the twenty four hour mark hit, doctors swarmed your room. It seemed like you shocked most of the hospital by making it that long. Mouse stood back with Erin and Jay watching as the doctors went over your injuries with each other, talking about running more tests and further treatments.

“What now?” Jay asked, breaking their conversation because so far he’d been the one out the three of them to talk to the medical team the most. He had no choice but to hold it together, for Mouse and Erin both. “Detective Halstead, we’re doing everything we can for her” the doctor assured them but about that time your hand twitched.

“She moved,” Mouse whispered and stepped forward. The doctors all turned towards you but to Mouse’s horror you started to seize, he could see red stains start to seep through the bandages covering your body and something started coming out of the tube down your throat “Get them out of here” the doctor told Jay nodded towards Mouse and Erin. 

“Fuck you, I’m not leaving her” Mouse fought, struggling against Jay who was trying to grab his arm. He’d promised you he wouldn’t leave your side. “Officer Gerwitz you don’t want to see this” a nurse assured him, grabbing his other arm he turned to look at her and saw the tears in her eyes and this time when his legs went out from under him no one was there to catch him. His knees buckled and he hit the floor on them, watching as the doctors and nurses moved around your bed.

He was helpless to move, hell he couldn’t form a thought as he watched them shock your body, it jolting off the bed. “Greg, come on man. Don’t be in here for this” Jay tried, choking back a sob as his wide eyes landed on the bed as well. “I’m not leaving her” he whispered, even as the movements of the medical team ceased and they called the words that stopped his own heart beating in his chest “Time of death one eleven p.m.”

Mouse sat on the front pew of the church in his dress uniform, staring at your casket that was covered in the CPD flag. The unit was sitting around him, Erin was on his left side and Jay was on his right. He could’ve cared less. He was alone. You were gone.

He gripped his dogtags in his hand, the ring he’d never given you now rested on the chain. He had planned to slip it on your finger the moment you got home from New York. He’d never dreamt you getting home would’ve been in a body bag. The little girl you’d saved, Clarissa. She’d gotten her parents to fly her out for the funeral. She’d spoken with his blessing. 

She’d hugged him and told him she was so sorry you were gone. He’d tried to act like anything she said mattered, Erin had given him a small nod so maybe it had seemed like it did to him. He was glad the little girl was safe, that much was true. These niceties, the apologies they wouldn’t bring you back. They wouldn’t fix the gaping hole in his chest. They wouldn’t give him a reason to get up every day.

Hank stood at the front of the church and nodded to the unit. They would carry you out to the hearse then carry you to your grave. The last time Mouse would have you in his arms in any way would be helping to carry you to your grave. They’d wanted him to not help but what kind of man would he be if he couldn’t carry the woman he loved to the end? 

He stood with his team, positioning his cover on his head, tears streaming down his face as they all took their positions on your casket. Him and Erin were in front. They lifted you up and walked as one out of the church. Nothing had ever felt heavier than the weight of that casket, knowing it carried you inside.

_________________

At the cemetery they spoke of you. How you lived, how you loved. How you died being a hero. Mouse stood to the side, blue eyes glued to the light grey casket. One by one those of your unit were allowed to place a photo or something inside. Erin placed a photo of you, her and Nadia. Jay put his lucky keychain, Adam put a coin Makayla had asked him to give you, Kim had a stuffed animal from their niece. Kevin had three red roses. One from him, one from his brother and one from his sister.

When Hank looked over at him he walked over to the casket, footsteps slowing when he got near it. The dress Erin and your aunt picked looked exactly like something you’d wear and the funeral home had done a good job. You almost looked like you were asleep. Almost. He laid the dogtags across your chest “I’m sorry you never got this ring. I’m sorry I never made you my wife. I love you and always will” he whispered then slowly closed the casket, staring at your face until the last moment possible.

Mouse sat on the bed, photos of you scattered around him. Your smiling face looking back at him from every one. Your pillow still vaguely smelled of your shampoo, your coffee mug was still in the strainer, the last load of laundry you’d asked him to get out of the dryer and he’d forgotten still sat in the machine. The candle you loved sat half burnt next to the bed, the movie you and him planned to finish when you got home was still saved on the dvr.

He tried. He tried for weeks, he tried. The pain was ripping him apart more and more every day. He found a new dealer, it was fairly easy.  He was high more days than sober now. The very thing you’d always feared, he’d gone back to his old ways but who was there to care? He’d lost the only reason he had for breathing, the very air in his lungs. He clicked his laptop, watching the video of you and him Jay had taken at the halloween party a few months before. You were laughing, arms around his waist and looking at him like he was the most important thing “Forever and a day Gerwitz?”  just hearing your voice over the video made tears hit his eyes as he heard his own voice reply “Forever and a day love”

He stared at the bottle in his hand. It was enough, he’d made sure of it. He couldn’t do this anymore. He had to be with you. The pain was too much. He’d considered just using his gun but he knew Jay would find him and he couldn’t do that to him. This way he’d just go to sleep and wouldn’t wake up. A lot less for Jay to find.

He sat the envelope with Jay’s name on the laptop and opened the bottle along with the bourbon. He’d see you again and the pain would stop. That was all that mattered.

Jay walked slowly into the apartment, calling Mouse’s name out. He knew something was wrong but he hadn’t expected what awaited him either.

______________________

Jay and Erin sat together between yours and Mouse’s graves. Hank had pulled some strings, his death had been ruled a heart attack so he’d gotten a proper CPD burial and they’d made sure it was right next to you where he belonged. Hank had even footed the bill for your headstones to read “Loving Husband” and “Loving Wife” ; it was only suitable. Not even death stopped the love you two had for each other.

“Have you read his letter yet?” she asked and he shook his head and fished it out then held it out to her “Here, you do it” she took it then cleared her throat: 

Jay, I’m sorry that I know you’ll be the one to find me. I wished there was someone else but we both know with her gone there isn’t. I’ve tried man, I really have. I can’t continue to live in a world she’s not in. She was always the air in my lungs and every day without her I suffocate more and more.When I met her I found my reason to keep going and the day I lost her I lost that reason. If there’s a life after this I will find her in it and love her it it, if there isn’t at least the pain will stop. Please don’t hold onto guilt over me and don’t let Erin hold onto guilt over her. We both knew our best friends loved us. Be happy man, if you find love don’t wait for anything. See you in the next life brother, Mouse

They were both crying by the time Erin was through reading. Jay slipped an arm around her and pulled her over onto his shoulder “I just hope they’re together” she whispered. “Me too” he replied, the wind catching their words as it blew past your graves maybe carrying that message on.

One moment Mouse was swallowing a handful of pills and not fighting against the urge to close his eyes, the next he was laying on a patch of grass. Grass? How did he get outside? “Wake up Greg” he heard your voice and felt your hand on his face and for a moment thought he was hallucinating, the pills hadn’t worked. They’d just caused this.

He felt the air move around him then your other hand went to the opposite side of his face and he heard your light laughter “I swear if you don’t open those gorgeous blue eyes Gerwitz” he slowly opened his eyes and you were kneeled in front of him, real as day. Your hair was in a braid like you always wore it during summer, you were wearing a light blue shirt with cut off shorts and sneakers. You looked happy and healthy.

“Sweetheart? Is that really you?”  you nodded, tears shining in your eyes “It’s really me Greg” he pulled you into his arms and you laughed, letting him wrap both arms around you. “How? Baby, where are we? What happened?” when he rolled so he was holding his weight on his arms and you were under him in the grass you smiled sadly up at him, running your fingers up into his hair and he closed his eyes, feeling tears threaten at feeling your touch “Why are you here so soon? You had so much life left” you whispered and he opened his eyes, looking down at you. 

His girl. Whole and here with him. Wherever here was, it didn’t matter. He had you in his arms. “No I didn’t love. My life ended the day you left” you smiled “I love you Greg” then pulled him down to you. The moment your lips met his both of you let tears slip free. When you pulled away from his lips he leaned his forehead against yours “I love you so much” you grinned “Forever and a day Gerwitz?” he nodded “Forever and a day baby” 

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 45

Chapter 45 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Buck and Chris get swept up by the tsunami. Buck tries his best to keep Chris safe and sheltered from the worst of it, however, the receding tide still takes him. Buck has to find him again, he can’t lose Chris, can’t lose their son.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: insecurity, self loathing, injury, minor character death mention, near death experience

~~~

Chapter 45: Just Keep Swimming

A tsunami. Buck honestly isn’t sure why he didn’t expect it with how life has just been one disaster after another lately, but somehow this wasn’t on his planning this morning when he took Chris to the pier.

Sitting here on a fire engine from what he’s pretty sure is Bosko’s unit, surrounded by people he pulled from the water, he regrets not at least calling out a hi to her when he saw her on the pier earlier.

It felt too awkward to so then, since she is housing his husband and he at some point thought said husband was having an affair with her, but now he would kill for someone to know that they’re out here. It was such a spur of the moment thing that he didn’t mention it to anyone. They’re sitting ducks right now.

The only thing that is keeping him sane, is that Chris is right next to him.

He feels horrible about Chris being out here in this with him. If they’d just stayed home today, they wouldn’t have been in this mess. But no, Buck dragged Chris out to the pier, because he wanted to make right that Eddie has been driven away by something involving Buck. Now Chris just has another traumatic event to add to the list. And that’s his fault.

However, now is not the time to focus on how awful he feels, he needs to focus on Chris. Despite the terrible day he’s having, he’s being plenty cheerful. It’s very Chris, and Buck is glad life hasn’t crushed his spirit yet as they play I Spy together.

If the circumstances were different, he might have paid more attention to the other people he pulled from the water. However, no one appeared seriously injured, so as long as that stays the same, he forgives himself for not having the best bedside manners right now.

He’s off the clock anyway and not even officially a firefighter again, he can be forgiven for wanting to focus on his own kid. He did enough already by leaving him alone on the fire engine to pull everyone else out the water. Buck is a firefighter in his heart, so that went without saying, but he’s too tired to divide his attention between everyone else and Chris. Paramedic has always been more Hen or Chimney’s, or even Eddie’s job.

“Okay, I spy with my little eye, something that…” Buck looks to see what he can find. “Moves people around.”

Chris peers around quite adorably at the debris that is floating by to see what Buck is spying. “Oh, a scooter,” Chris realizes quickly, spotting what Buck had spied.

“Ah, yeah, nice one,” Buck says, having hoped it would be a little more difficult to find. He wants to be able to drag this game out as long as he can, so Chris has something to focus on other than the fact that they’re stuck on a fire engine while waiting for rescue or until the water goes down. But he can’t get disheartened yet, so he nudges Chris and prompts: “Okay, genius, your turn.”

“I spy,” Chris looks around much like Buck had a few seconds ago, “a shopping cart.”

“What? No, come on. Hey, that’s not how the game works. You can’t just yell stuff out,” Buck tells him.

“But, papi, yelling stuff out is the fun part!” Chris yells loudly, big grin on his face.

Buck’s heart just bursts with affection. He loves this kid so goddamn much and he is so grateful to the universe that it let him have this, even if it might not be forever, he gets to be here now. He pulls Chris into a side hug, leaning his cheek against Chris’s wet curls as he says: “You amaze me, buddy.”

“Why?”

“I know you’ve had a rough few weeks and you were pretty down yesterday. When I was a kid and I got bad news, I always got so mad, but you, after the day you had, here you are, with a big smile, busting a gut,” Buck chuckles. Then emotion overtakes him and the memory of the fear makes his voice waver. “You never gave up. Even when that water was rushing over you back there. You just kept on swimming.”

“Like Dory,” Chris says, referencing a movie they’d watched together a couple of times. Buck hadn’t even realized the words Dory sang so often had come out until Chris said that.

“Yeah, like Dory,” he smiles. “And not just today, you know, but every day. You never say no, you never complain.” It’s suddenly very important to Buck that Chris knows how impressed he is with him, that he thinks he’s the best, that he’s proud of him. “You’re such a good kid, Superman, and I keep being blown away by you. How do you do that? You didn’t get that from me, that’s for sure.”

Chris has a pleased look on his face as he explains: “Well, I complained once, but it didn’t work.”

Buck could point out that Chris complained more than once whenever it was early, but he still had to do PT or when he had to go to bed…

However, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to do that, he doesn’t want to waste time that suddenly feels so limited correcting Chris, he wants to know him. Know him the best he can, hold as many pieces of this amazing kid in his heart. “So what did you do?”

“I just kept on swimming, papi. Like Dory,” Chris shrugs simply.

God, Chris is going to make Buck cry. He’s been trying so hard not to cry, to not let Chris see how scared he was and still is, how dangerous their situation is. Yet, here he is, nearly loosing that fight with himself because of Chris.

He’s witnessed the kid go through so much heartbreak. From Shannon leaving, to Eddie having to re-enlist, to Eddie getting seriously hurt, to uprooting his whole life to move here, to Buck getting hurt, to Eddie pulling away, to this. Buck doesn’t know where he gets the resilience. Eddie is stubborn sure, and so is Buck, and the fiery attitude Chris gets from Shannon, but this? It’s pure Chris.

It makes Buck want to hold Chris closer, hug him tightly and wish nothing else will happen to him, that nothing will ever break his spirit. But he doesn’t want to start acting weird, doesn’t want to worry Chris. So, he just pulls him a little closer to his side and takes a deep breath.

“Oh my god, look over there,” a man exclaims, pulling Buck out of his thoughts as he tries to see what they’re talking about.

“Oh my god.” “Oh no.” Two women also exclaim their horror and Buck now sees why. It’s no longer just debris that is floating by, but a group of bodies.

Chris hasn’t seen the bodies yet and Buck needs to make sure he never will. He could never live with himself if he let Chris see that. Nor could Eddie. God, Eddie will probably be so pissed at Buck. He trusted Buck to look out for Chris, to take care of him when he couldn’t, but Buck only got him caught up into a literal disaster and now Chris might see his first corpse.

Moving quickly, he settles Chris sideways, doing a little swoop as he sits him down to make it seem playful as he cups Chris’s cheek to further guide his eyes away and says: “I- I spy with my little eye, something that is,” he looks around desperately, “high.”

Success. Chris looks up and away from the bodies, peering at the buildings surrounding them to find what Buck is spying, thankfully not yet bored of the game. “A street sign?” he guesses.

Buck looks over at the bodies to see where they are. Still too close for comfort. In fact, way too close in general. They’re right next to the engine, if Buck wanted to touch them, all he’d have to do is reach out his hand.

Despite not having picked anything as the object for I Spy, Buck shakes his head: “Uh, high- higher than that. Like, whoa…” to keep up the charade.

Chris guesses a window, a street light and a cloud, before the bodies have passed. When Buck finally reveals the answer was the air-conditioning unit in one of the windows, Chris huffs: “I don’t wanna play this game anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Buck sighs in a manner that may be a bit too honest as he goes to sit next to Chris. His leg hurts like a motherfucker and he’s exhausted.

It seems to last forever until a rescue mission is set up, though logically he knows they’re probably already out there, getting through is just hard and organizing enough boats is rough. Still, he’d give a lot to see firefighters on the horizon. Especially the 118.

God, what he wouldn’t give to see the 118 right now. To have the most competent people he knows come to rescue them, so he knows this nightmare is behind him.

The 118 will have Eddie too. He wants to see Eddie so bad right now. The man will likely be angry with him for endangering Chris, but he’d at least be here with him. He’s missed him being by his side so much and even though he knows it will likely be his new reality soon, in this moment he’d give anything to have the fantasy of a them again. He needs the comfort, even when he won’t know what to do when he’ll get it.

“I don’t know what we’re gonna tell daddy,” he says, more to fill the silence and distract himself from his own thoughts than anything else. “You know, we don’t invite him one time and, uh, look what happens.”

He doesn’t know what he expected from Chris. Maybe a snippy comment, like Eddie sometimes does, or another blasé comment about their situation. Instead he gets a soft and honest: “You saved me. And you saved them.”

Buck looks over at the others that Chris indicated. They all look half-drowned and beaten up, but they’re alive. He makes eye contact with one of the women he pulled out early on and she smiles at him, the younger woman huddled next to her doing the same. Automatically he smiles back.

If he’s honest, he doesn’t think he did anything big, just did his job. However, Chris doesn’t think so. Chris thinks he saved them, that he’s a hero. The tears he managed to fight off return and he has to swallow to stop them from falling.

To deflect, he says: “No, we did that together. Me and you make a great team. Give me a high five,” as he holds up his hand. He means it too, he wouldn’t have made it through this without Chris right there next to him.

Chris high fives him as Buck continues: “I’m proud of you. Really,” because Chris needs to hear that. He pulls Chris into a hug, hoping that’ll make the message sink in more.

As Chris loops his arms around Buck in return, he says: “Thank you, papi.”

“No, thank you,” Buck whispers into Chris’s shoulder. It’s not the most eloquent thing he’s ever said, but it’ll have to do, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

The sounds of water rushing makes him pull back slightly from the hug so he can see what’s going on.

Indeed, the water that had been calm a second ago is now flowing again and it’s flowing fast, too fast. It’s shaking the fire engine and pulling the debris along to bash against the sides of their refuge that now seems more fragile than it should.

Buck immediately grips Chris tightly, as he shouts to the others: “Everybody get down! Get down and hold on! Hold on!”

Further up a shelter must have failed to withstand the wave, because there are calls for help coming from between the debris and when Buck looks up over the cabin of the fire engine, there are people getting dragged forwards by the water as they wave for help.

Torn, he looks between Chris and the people yelling for help. He should definitely go help them, but he should also definitely make sure Chris is okay.

In the end, helping the people wins out, Chris is already okay. The fire engine is holding up and a safe space to hide out on until this is over. Besides, Chris thinks he saved the people already on there, he can’t let him see him just sit and do nothing while people need help. It’s not in his nature and it’s not what he wants Chris to think of his papi.

So he tells Chris to hold on, then goes to lay over the roof of the front cabin, so he can hold out his hand for the people drifting towards them to grab.

He is just pulling up a man, when something rams into the engine, shaking it violently. He hears something that could be the start of ‘papi’ before there is a splash. The realization of what that could be washes over him and he turns around just in time to see Chris disappear into the waves.

In a wave of adrenaline, he pulls the man aboard, injuring his arm in the process, but he doesn’t care as he abandons any sort of rescuing mission he was aiding at the other side of the engine as he goes to scanning the water to find Chris, calling out: “Chris? Christopher! Christopher! No! Christopher! Christopher! CHRIS!”

There is no Christopher to call back.

Without hesitation, he dives into the water after him. The chances of managing to grab him again are very low and it’s a stupidly dangerous thing to do, but none of that even registers for Buck. His son needs him, he’s going to fucking get to him, danger be damned.

If Chris was difficult to spot from the engine, it’s downright impossible to find him in the chaos of the water. Buck’s screams keep getting cut off by the water invading his mouth and just keeping himself above the water is an exhausting task. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get to Chris when he finally does find him.

As it turns out, he never gets to find out. A cluster of debris rams into him, pushing all the air out of his lungs, before dragging him down under as his foot gets stuck. Helplessly he tugs at it, vision whiting out from the pain, since of course it has to be his bad leg.

Before he can drown, the debris cluster hits a building and so does Buck. It wrenches at his leg, making him pass out, but freeing him in the process.

Buck floats down towards the sea unconscious for another second, before hitting a street sign, which wakes him up again. He flails about and almost drowns a dozen more times, before he grabs onto what at one point was wind indicator, but is now a broken pole where debris congregates.

He looks around desperately for Chis, calling out his name, but there is no response nor sign from the kid anywhere.

The heavy feeling of defeat settles in his bones as he clings to that pole, sporadically getting hit by debris as slowly the water level goes down. No miracle happens. Chris doesn’t appear. He hits the ground with a sharp pain in his leg and Chris nowhere in sight.

Chris is gone.

He lost him.

Buck lost him.

How is he ever going to live with himself? How is he ever going to tell Eddie? Buck left Chris alone for a second to save someone he didn’t even know. He let Chris fall. He let Chris drown. Buck lost him. He lost their son.

And for what? To save some people he doesn’t know? When Maddie was kidnapped by Doug and in serious danger, he hesitated, because he wanted to come home to his family, preserve what he had. Yet, here he abandoned Chris, the one person he wanted to come home to, because he wouldn’t understand.

He abandoned Chris right in front of his face, left him behind with nothing more than a ‘hold on’ while he focused on someone else. What kind of person is he? What does it say about him that he would abandon his sister for himself and his son for a stranger?

How will he ever look Eddie in the eye and tell him their son died, because Buck was playing the hero?

Buck isn’t on the clock right now, is still on medical leave. He’s a firefighter, sure, but he isn’t coming in after the fact to help with the rescue like those that are out there right now. He was hit by that wave, in the thick of the disaster. He’s a victim here, someone to be saved. He didn’t need to help anyone.

He should have left all those people behind to die. He should have held Chris as tightly as he could and never let him go, no matter what was happening around them.

‘You saved me. And you saved them.’

Chris’s words from before echo through his mind and he lifts his head to the sky to keep the tears in. He didn’t save anyone, especially not Chris. But it is how Chris sees him. He saves people. It’s why he couldn’t have abandoned anyone.

Because Buck is Buck and Buck saves people. He can still remember Chris bragging to his grandparents how his papi and daddy are heroes. How could he disappoint him by leaving those people when Chris was already safe beside him?

Chris was safe.

He was supposed to be safe.

Buck was supposed to keep him safe, but he failed. He failed and he has to fix this.

Determination comes over him and he uses the pole to steady himself. His ribs are bruised, maybe even broken and he has a headache like no other, not to mention his leg hurting almost worse than when he first got the injury. However, none of that matters, he has a mission to complete. He has to find Chris.

There is nothing else for him to worry about now. He is going to find Chris even if it kills him and he’s going to bring him home. He’s going to face Eddie with an alive Chris. He refuses to face an alternate reality.

Eddie is probably out there somewhere, helping people. That is his job. Eddie is out there as a firefighter, Buck is out here as a father. It’s his job to find Chris. They’ve always shared the responsibility, passed it back and forth to make it manageable. Right now, Buck holds the responsibility. He won’t fuck that up. Buck fixes things, he can fix this too.

It doesn’t matter that Eddie has been pulling away recently, that he’s figuring himself out. The two of them are still a unit as they’ve always been. Just because Eddie is going to leave Buck, doesn’t mean that their little family is gone entirely. They still have each other’s back out in the field, so Buck needs to have his back.

Buck will always be connected to Eddie through Chris. Eddie trusts him with Chris’s safety, trusts him to watch him while Eddie takes the space he needs. Just like Buck trusted him with Chris when he was chasing after Maddie or in the hospital.

Of course he’ll always love Eddie, he loves him so fucking much, but Chris was the first Diaz that stole his heart, albeit in a different way.

Eddie feels like safety and home. He feels like a solid rock that Buck can always come back to and be met with open arms. He knows Buck wholly and he never left. Not really. He had to enlist and recently he ran. However, he never left. He stayed close, he didn’t abandon him. Buck believes that somehow, sometime, they’ll come back to each other, even if it’s as nothing other than friends.

But Chris- Chris is his kid. His best friend, who amazes him every day. He loves Chris so much. Chris, who is so small, who has been entrusted to Buck, who he has nurtured and seen grow into such an amazing person. Chris is a piece of his soul, that is just walking around. Chris relies on him, looks at him for guidance, for comfort, for parenting. Buck will never take that for granted.

The thought is enough to propel him forward into action. He straightens himself up and looks around. The water pulled them back out to the sea, Chris was taken by the same tide as him, he probably washed up somewhere close to him. He just has to start searching, he’s bound to find Chris at some point.

It’s worse than having to find a needle in a haystack, but he ignores that part of reality. Thinking like that isn’t going to get him anywhere, isn’t going to fix this. Chris is still out there. He has to be.

Those first few steps he nearly buckles under the pain, but he has to keep moving. He doesn’t have time for pain and he knows he can keep pushing through. The human limit is much further than most people think, he’s seen people push through things much worse than a few bruises and a twisted ankle.

It’s a struggle at first. The water is still coming to his waist and slowly flowing back to the sea, so pushing against him. However, after a few near misses that send his heart beat skyrocketing, he gets into a rhythm.

Looking around, he sees that what is left of the pier is to his left and that the fire engine they took shelter on is also left from his position, even if it’s further inland. The water must have pulled him right, which means it pulled Chris right too.

He turns his back on both places and heads right.

Around him, more people are making their way through the disaster towards higher ground. Buck makes sure to take a good look at every person he passes, trying to see if he can catch sight of Chris, found by someone else. Safe.

No luck.

Turning onto a street, he hears someone yell: “Hey! There’s a kid under there.”

Immediately Buck is rushing to help. He hopes naively that it’s Chris, that it will be that easy. But he should have known better. Going off the shoes, he’s pretty sure it’s not Chris, but he isn’t going to let someone die. Especially not a kid. That’s someone’s child. He would want someone to save Chris too if they had the chance. Isn’t that what Hen said during the earthquake? This is no different.

He tells himself he’s not going to make detours to rescue people when he doesn’t have to, but this is basic human decency. Besides, with her free, he can stop the people she’s with, before they leave to ask them if they’ve seen Chris.

“Hey, hey, hey, excuse me,” he stops the group. “I’m looking for an eight-year-old boy. His name is Christopher. He’s always smiling, and he’s got CP, Cerebral Palsy. He’s got brown hair, yellow shirt.” He thinks about mentioning the glasses, but Chris probably lost them.

The surfer guy with long hair, thinks for a moment, then nods: “Yeah, yeah. I think I saw him.”

The feeling of hope, so fragile yet too big to contain his body is almost impossible to describe as he asks: “Where?”

“He was headed with a group that that cupcakery place,” surfer guy says. “I heard they’re handing out water.”

“Cupcakery? What is that?” Buck asks, needing more information so he can find Chris.

“You know, cupcake bakery. It’s about six or seven blocks south of here on Strand,” surfer guy explains.

While he is usually a fan of new tidbits of knowledge, right now he can’t give a single flying fuck about what a cupcakery is exactly. However surfer boy has given him workable information to go off with the address. “Thank you. Thank you.”

The girl is not the last person, he pulls out of the rubble on his search for Chris. And surfer guy is not the last person that gives him information on Chris that turns out to be nothing.

However, the disappointment never stops Buck. He has to keep going, keep searching, keep believing that Chris is alive and out there. That he just has to find him. That all he has to do is get to him and it’ll be okay.

A part of him can understand that it might be denial, but he doesn’t have space for anything else. If he lets himself think that, all the aches and pains he feels will pull him under and he can’t allow that to happen. He knows he’s injured, but he has to push through. For Chris.

Buck doesn’t give up. He can’t. Not until Chris is safe. He just has to keep swimming. Just has to fix this, even if it kills him. There is no other option, not for him, not when it comes to his son.

~~

A/N:

I’m sorry if you thought you’d find out what Eddie would do this chapter, it was a deception. Let’s cross our fingers Buck doesn’t die before someone can find him!

[medi-bee]

i am putting your little guys in my mental microwave @spotsupstuff

[egophiliac]

I have SO many thoughts about everything and they are in no kind of order yet, so here's just some quick little bits in the meantime!

I am not normal about any of these characters!

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[itsdefinitely]

💀😡

starting off strong!

💀 least favorite lord in black and why 😡 least favorite character from npmd and why

based off design... pokey. he is so swagless please i need to give him cool pants please please why doesn't he have shiny pants and a feather boa he deserves one give him heels you cowards

as for npmd (characters who have a speaking role): brenda. hearing her talk the first time made my soul float out of my body. i didn't recognize it as bryce; i thought they genuinely got a teenager to be brenda. it just took me off guard how real she was. compared to everyone else matching their stereotype, brenda acts like. a regular teenager

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

nah but like

they're "seiros lapdogs" because they're fighting back against the people who attacked them completely unprovoked??? also because it so happens that thales is at garreg mach so they have to go there to reclaim the area to defeat him???

i just hate this because it's just perpetuating things about faerghus and its people that just aren't true. it frames it like they jumped into the war willingly for the church and that they're only here for the church. like nah buddy, it's not faerghus' fault you're out here fighting to protect thales and ludwig.

it also is batshit to me how he and leopold are fighting to stop faerghus from advancing but like... they know what's happening to the empire and that edelgard isn't even calling the shots anymore, yet they still stupidly fight for the very person who is literally razing their country and burning their villages. they know the empire is in shambles and that the kingdom isn't targeting them and is specifically aiming for gm to get it back from who? thales; who, mind, at this point is in his real form and not posing as arundel anymore. everything is laid out plainly, but they still act like faerghus is the bad guy.

but yeah, okay. faerghus BaD for defending themselves, fighting back, finding out who is behind all the puppeteering and heading to take him out. sure, that makes them seiros lapdogs. like what are you, an agarthan mouthpiece??? may as well be like yeah you go retreat and leave you agarthan lapdog. if they don't realize it's Someone Else in charge of course, then ludwig lapdog works fine too.

and it sucks because other than this shit, i like waldemar just fine as a character. it's just like, it feels like they forced someone to have to stick in that final faerghus BaD insult before the grand finale so they just randomly picked someone to remind us that faerghus is Always Wrong as long as they continue to fight back and prevent being attacked in the future.

waldemar here is just basically ag caspar. fighting and risking his life for thales, who is destroying the empire and basically holding the emperor hostage. if the writing here had any decent plot points, they would've all stopped and have been like hey wait, shouldn't we be fighting to get our emperor back? why are we stopping these guys from killing the people who are destroying this country?

and like, they literally went from siding with ludwig during the insurrection to siding with edelgard in this timeline to... jumping immediately back to ludwig as soon as he was at the top of the food chain (thales notwithstanding). as soon as the person in charge changes, they jump ship immediately; then of course get mad that the people they attacked are coming after them... and fighting them as they defend the very people who are letting adrestia become a literal, physical ruin.

it really just tells me that these people don't care about adrestia itself, but status, power and wealth. they don't care about the country itself as long as they're doing well. that's like, the only thing i can get from still fighting with/for ludwig/thales. the fact that they just fight for ludwig again as soon as edelgard is out of commission is also pretty gross to me. they have no loyalty at all.

and it's like, i want to like waldermar and leopold, but they come across as just selfish, entitled and only there for their own asses to be covered. and i get that - that is a realistic take on politicians, but the fact that the game regularly loops back around to faerghus BaD despite that and despite portraying these people as opportunistically selfish is like... what are they even trying to write??

[unnonexistence]

just started reading book 3 in this series and page 1 is taking no prisoners hgdshdslk