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wildernessuntothemselves · 4 months ago

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Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Last Part

Word Count: 13.8k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again.

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous.

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before?

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams.

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, fingering, handjobs, missionary, doggy, mentions of previous noncon, yandere behaviour, violence, bodily harm, alienation

You still have the dreams, the memories, the torment. They never went away despite you trying your goddamn hardest. Your brain seems to conjure them up harder and more vividly the more you work to push them away. You don't know if Beomgyu knows this but he's beside you every possible second of every day, keeping you busy and helping to push it all away, or at least distract you from it.

You've quit your job. Beomgyu isn't unreasonable. He will help you get another job, just as soon as you feel better. But not right now. You're not ready yet. You need rest and he makes sure you get it, devoting every second he's not at his job or getting you food and stuff you need to taking care of you.

He wanted you to move away, just pack your things and get away from this place that had brought you both such grief, but you couldn't go through with it. Not yet. You had freaked out when he suggested it, telling you it would do you good to get a fresh start and get away from Taehyun but you know he wouldn't be the only one you'd be getting away from. All your friends are here. Your family is here. And even though you're hardly seeing them right now, you know it wouldn't be right to completely uproot yourself from everything you've ever known except Beomgyu. Even though you'd promised to completely and fully devote yourself to only him, you know it can't be good for your already unstable mental state.

You tell him that you'd feel so terribly alone if you move away, especially when he goes to work. So he offers to quit his job to spend all his time with you, explaining that he has put aside some savings he could use for the time being but you still refuse. You tell him that you'd be horribly selfish to let him waste the little precious money he saved up just so he can babysit you but you don’t tell him about how much it scares you to cross that last boundary, to let him completely and utterly devour your entire life despite something at the bottom of your soul telling you to just give it to him.

Beomgyu reassures you that he doesn’t mind. He wants to spend his money to make sure you're taken care of, but you still refuse. You stand your ground and hold onto the last shred of your life that is not his–for what? You don’t know–and he reluctantly lets it go, for now at least.

Instead, he uses the time he does have with you to pamper you, feeding you breakfast in bed, getting you things to occupy your time while he's away, drawing baths for you when he gets home from work. It all feels so terribly familiar. The sense of deja vu choking you but Beomgyu is determined to mentally and physically push it all out of your mind and take its place instead.

He only reads you happy poems and stories, only sings you cheerful love songs. You feel like he’s lulling you into a deep slumber. You're still where you've always been–your friends and family are still within reach, your old life is there to reclaim if you want to–but it's like he'd succeeded in putting a wall between you and the world just like he wanted, and it scares you that you can't tell if that is a good or bad thing. Maybe you should just give into him, fall into him and dissolve into his being until no one will ever be able to pull you apart again.

You feel his fingers knead the skin of your shoulders as he sits behind you in the bathtub–once again using his free time after work to take care of you instead of giving himself a break after working hard all day. Bubbles and candles surround you, the calming scent of them permeating your brain like a drug, aided by the glass of wine in your hand, to lull you further into your slumber. You let out small hums of appreciation under Beomgyu's expert hands that seem to know you better than you know yourself. How does he know where exactly to touch to unwind a particular knot in your back or relieve a certain stress that has been nagging you for a while? All you have to do is sit there and sip your wine, letting the groggy feeling from the liquid combine with the blissful pleasure of Beomgyu's touch to submerge you deeper into a dreamy state that one day you may never wake up from.

“There is this beach I was reading about online that I'd like to visit.” You tell him lazily and he chirps happily. He always gets so excited when you initiate any outings or dates to go on and it makes that familiar tender spot in your heart ache at how selfish you’re being. He tries so hard to make you happy and fill your life up with fun and exciting things to do to distract you from the loneliness, and yet you so rarely respond in kind. “Sure. Anything you want, my love.”

You smile, hearing the relief in his voice, and you go on, a little more excitedly. “It's near that old medieval castle at the cliff top. It's very popular.”

“Oh, that place.” His hands falter and you can feel a sudden strange chill in the air. “It's just an overrated touristy spot. I know plenty of other beaches that are better.”

You pout. You didn't expect his response. He is usually happy to do whatever you want and you had actually been looking forward to going to that particular beach for a while. “But I want to go there. The beach looks really nice and I thought I could even go explore that old abandoned castle with my prince.” You giggle, trying to crane your head back to send him a flirty look but the expression you find on his face wipes all hints of playfulness off yours.

“And I don't want to. Pick literally anywhere else.” His response is strangely irritated and you frown. You should probably drop it. He is right. There are plenty of nice beaches around. You don't have to go to that particular one. But something about his sharp refusal prompts you to dig more. Stupid girl. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?

“Why do I need to when we can just go there?” You huff, tension creeping back into your shoulders.

“I said no.” He rebuts with no explanation and your fiery temper sparks through the heavy fog that has been weighing on your brain.

“Oh, you said no? Well then if Master says no then I guess that's the end of it.” You snap, your anger begging for you to let it catch fire.

“Why are you being difficult? I thought you said you'd listen to me?”

And just like it, he snuffs it all under his finger. You immediately shut down. How long is he going to hold that over your head? You've quit your job. You haven't spoken to Taehyun since then. You hardly see your friends. You stay home waiting for him like a dutiful little housewife. What more does he want from you? You know you've made a mistake. You know you promised to make it up to him and regain his trust, but surely asking to visit a stupid beach doesn't count as a potential breach of trust, does it?

“Forget it.” You mumble, deflated. You were really looking forward to going there. The place looked super pretty online. It was one of the few places lately that have managed to get you excited at the prospect of visiting them. It held a certain vibrant draw to it when everything else seemed gray and dull in comparison. But you guess you can’t have even that.

You try to get out of the bath, no longer in the mood for intimate messages, but Beomgyu holds you back. Of course, he does.

“Wait.” You hear Beomgyu sigh and let his hands drop to the water to circle around your waist and pull your body back against him, his lips kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder gently, apologetically. “I'm sorry, baby. I just have a bad feeling about that place. Can't you trust me on that?”

A bad feeling about the place? What the fuck does that mean? It’s just a beach, what could possibly go wrong there?

Still, you hesitate. You didn’t think that anything could go wrong by being friends with Taehyun either and that Beomgyu was being overly jealous and paranoid but here you are. Maybe if you go there you'll fucking drown or something crazy like that.

You suppose you can give him that. You know if you had a bad feeling about a place, Beomgyu would not force you to go there. It probably wouldn’t be fun anyway if you make him go and he hates every second of it. You want to do something you both enjoy.

But you really wanted to visit that place. Maybe you should go when he's at work…

No. Just the idea of going out in public alone without Beomgyu makes you shudder. You can't handle being around people without Beomgyu's comforting presence to rely on. He's got you right where he wants you.

“Fine.” You say in a small voice, finally relenting.

“Thank you, princess.” He sighs in relief and the tension in the air begins to dissipate once again. “I know you’re bored. I promise to take some time off work and take you on a nice vacation somewhere. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” You mumble unenthusiastically.

“Come on. Cheer up.” He holds your jaw gently and turns you towards him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that slowly turns sensual.

“Beomgyu…” You whine into his mouth, the water shifting as you rub your thighs together. He will never not have an effect on you. You’re too weak for him.

“I know, princess.” His hand drops between your legs, loosening you up. “I got you.”

His light touches are as strong as electric currents coursing through your veins, and before long, you find yourself squirming in his hold, pushing yourself closer to his touch while paradoxically trying to get away from the intense feeling at the same time.

But he doesn’t let you. He throws his other arm over you, caging you into place as he takes a hold of your breasts, kneading them until your nipples have pebbled in need.

“Baby…” You keen, pushing your breasts further into his hand, and crying out as he pulls one of your perked nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

“Relax for me, baby.” He hums, holding you in place as he works his fingers inside you. It stings a bit as the water dilutes your arousal but he throws your legs on either edge of the tub to give him more space for his fingers to easily breach your hole, the heel of his palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge so scarily fast that you barely even register the sharp bite of his teeth on your neck as he zealously marks you. “Let me take care of you.”

It’s a spell–a bid to get you to let go, and it’s so hard to not give in when he makes it feel so damn good.

You're so exposed like this. Even though there is no one here to see you but Beomgyu, it feels like the whole universe is watching him spread you open to his satisfaction and no amount of faux demurity would fool the universe into believing you're not a willing participant in all of this. It's hard to care about your debauched display when your orgasm was heating you up from the inside so much you feel like you might spontaneously combust. Why is it always so intense with him? How does he do it so well?

You may never know but what you do know is that your orgasm was rolling towards you like the water rolling over the edge of the tub, sharp and sudden, and when it reaches you it threatens to take you under. But Beomgyu holds your head above the water as his relentless fingers continue to fuck you until you yield to his will. You break apart under his touch, forgetting about everything except him in those few moments, forgetting about the beach, the castle, Taehyun and everything you've lost–the only thing registering in your mind is Beomgyu's touch, Beomgyu's smell, Beomgyu's warmth.

“Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu!” You cry as your whole body convulses in his arms, yet it doesn't slip from his hold for even a second, and when you finally come down from your quaking orgasm, you're still in his hold but half of the bath water had spilled over the edge, exposing your skin to the chilly room air–a stark contrast to the searing heat of Beomgyu’s hard cock pressing against you lower back as he tries to subtly jerk himself off against you, and it's your turn to hold him in the palm of your hand.

His quiet desperation brings even more memories to mind, memories of prince Beomgyu needily humping you in frantic attempt to get off, secret exclamations of desire and forbidden love whispered hotly on the skin of your neck or ears or breasts as he mounts you like a dog in heat in a way that he makes sure to tell you is not befitting the image of a prince like him.

But when you turn around, it's your Beomgyu you see there, a regular college student on the surface, though nothing about him is regular. Is he really even your Beomgyu? The image of him in front of you shimmering and wavering between the Beomgyu you know and prince Beomgyu, and you're not sure which one is real anymore.

“You’re perfect.” He tries to reach out to you but you put his hands on either edge of the bathtub. “Keep those there.”

“Baby–” He starts to whine but shuts up when you grab his submerged cock and start jerking him off roughly. More water splashes out of the tub but neither of you care. He'll clean it up after anyway and you don’t even feel guilty about it.

“Please, please.” He cries pathetically as if you're the one in control.

“Please what?” You ask curiously as if you're expecting him to suddenly reveal something that would make sense of the tangled mess you've made of him in your mind.

“Anything.”

You snort. “God, if someone is to see you like this they'd think I never touch you. You've been cumming every day, in my hand, my mouth, my ass, my cunt, on my face, my tits, my back…”

“It's not enough.” He shakes his head, looking delirious. “Never enough.”

“Well if it's not enough then what's the point of me doing this?” You taunt, going to pull your hand away from him but his own hands quickly fly out to grab yours and put it back on his cock as his whole body springs forward to get close to you as if he could glue his body to yours so you can't escape. “No! Please!”

“Get your hands off me.” You growl and he quickly puts his hands back on the tub's edge, trying to appease you so you wouldn’t deny him, but it’s not enough. He has to feel as helpless as he makes you feel and so you push him away roughly, his head almost hitting the ceramic as his back meets the wall of the tub.

“You can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” You purr, raising your free hand to his chest to play with his nipples, making his back arch and his fingers turn as white as the ceramic they're gripping onto while your other hand twists over his cock.

“Sorry.”

God, you hate hearing that false word fall out of his mouth. You're pretty sure Beomgyu has never been sorry for anything in his life.

“Are you?” You challenge, squeezing your hand around the head of his cock tightly. “Are you really sorry?”

“Princess?” He cocks his head to the side innocently, as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. God, how he drives you crazy. “Please, I’ve been good.”

Has he? You can’t tell anymore. He's poisoned your mind so much you can't think straight.

You sigh, jerking him off fast, hard, knowing that the only thing that can soothe your troubled mind right now is watching your tormenter–your everything–fall apart in your grip just like he had done to you over and over again. And he doesn't disappoint.

“Fuck! Oh, gods, I'm so close.”

“Gods?” You laugh. That’s new. “I'm your only god, baby.”

“Yeah… only you.” He easily agrees with whatever you say, no thoughts behind his big adoring eyes, his body lying limp in the bathtub, only his hips moving to meet your fist everytime it goes down to smack against his pelvis. “Wanna cum for you. Worked so hard for it.”

“You did, didn't you?” You coo, one of your thumbs brushing against his hard nipples while the other teases the slit of his leaking cock. “Worked so hard to take care of me. Just need a little bit of attention in return, don't you?”

He nods eagerly, his lewd unabashed moans echoing all around the small bathroom as his high builds and builds, not daring to snap without your divine order. “Please, please…”

“Poor baby.” You tsk, looking at the man laid out before you and knowing in your heart of hearts that he was far from innocent.

Rotten. That's the word that comes to mind when you look at him and you can't put your finger on why. But then why does he still look so beautiful to you?

“Cum for me, love.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He cries out, his cum shooting out of his cock and immediately dispersing in the soapy water, tainting it like he's tainted you but you can’t get yourself to get away from it, the same way you can't get yourself to get away from him. You're rotten too now.

“I love you so much.” He slurs as his body sinks into the water.

“I know.” You do. It's the only thing you can be sure of anymore in the confusing mess that has become your life. That and “I love you too.”

___________________________

“Taehyun, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” Your slow dreamy life comes into sudden disturbing focus when you see the one person you've been hiding from standing right outside your door. But your barrage of questions can't stop him from pushing past you into the apartment and back into your life.

“I got your address from Yujin.” He explains once he's in and you look around in worry. He shouldn't be here. You'd barely managed to convince Beomgyu not to hurt him when he found out you had kissed him. What is he going to do if he finds him alone with you in the apartment while he's at work? You can't even let yourself think about it. It's too terrifying. You need to get him out. Why the fuck would Yunjun give him your address? Is she doing this to get back at Beomgyu? To get back at you?

“Please leave. Beomgyu is going to lose his shit if he sees you.” You tell him as if that's not the understatement of the century. But Taehyun doesn’t appear to be phased.

“I know. He is very dangerous. That's why I'm here.” He tells you, calmly acknowledging your statement that would have anyone else possibly running for the hills. “I have to tell you something. I think you were right. I think the dreams are memories.”

You freeze in your spot, all thoughts of getting him out of here suddenly put on the backburner. What the hell is he saying? Has he gone crazy too?

You have secretly, shamefully, been harboring that rotten suspicion for a while now. The dreams just all felt too real to just be dreams. Nothing that vivid, that detailed, could just be the product of a slumbering mind, right? Besides, it didn't even stop at the dreams. You were having these “recollections” even while you're awake now, but you don’t dare believe them to be real memories because what would that mean for you? Best case scenario is that you've officially lost your mind and worst case scenario is that all of those dreams and images actually are real and Beomgyu really did all those awful things. You did all those awful things for him.

“What makes you say that?” You gulp, asking cautiously. This feels like one of those moments that could forever change the trajectory of your life and maybe if you keep a cool safe distance away, you'd come out of this unscathed.

“I have been having more of them too. They have been plaguing my every sleeping moment, my every waking moment. They’re driving me insane–” He looks up at you and his expression almost knocks you off your feet. You know that look all too well. You see it in the mirror every day now. It’s the look of someone feeling themselves going mad and hoping that they really are because the alternative is just too cruel to consider–all the grief, all the blood, all the loss. No, it’s simply too much to bear, and you can hear the same torment you’re running from twisting his voice as he goes on. “Memories of us together… we were married in your dreams, right?”

His face is afflicted with an agony so raw it lashes against your skin in thick, bitter strokes that leave you gasping. You never told him that. How did he know that? Okay, calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just had a lucky guess. Nothing more.

“Yeah.” You admit slowly, watching him cautiously as if waiting for a further attack from him, and he doesn't disappoint.

“You left me for him.” He says, an accusation in his voice that makes you falter. He is speaking to you as if he’s now fully convinced that the dreams are true, as if you really were married and you’d left him for Beomgyu.

“No!” It feels strange defending something that a possibly fictional, possibly real version of you may have done because she's not you!--or is she? You didn’t leave him but you did. You don’t have to answer for her crimes but you feel compelled to try to anyway. “I thought I was saving you.”

But that just makes him angry, his fury so deep it couldn’t possibly have just been born today. It feels ancient, the edge of it sharpening over centuries. “Don't lie. That's not why you left.”

“It is. I swear. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone.” Your words sound insane even to your own ears but they're tumbling out of your mouth before you can even fully process them, again feeling compelled to defend yourself. You don’t even understand half of what you’re fighting about–your only aid in this battle are half-formed images of a fabled previous life you don’t want to remember.

“You’re lying to yourself.” He spits out bitterly, his visage taking on a hue that makes him look much older than he actually is–that makes him look like the Taehyun from your dreams, afflicted by loss and death and forced to grow up way too quickly. And here he is again, aging years in the blink of an eye. “You knew how crazy he was. You knew he wouldn't stop and you didn’t care. You just wanted to go back to him. You never fucking cared.”

“I didn't. I swear to god–” The way his conversation was heading brings a fresh wave of nauseating deja vu crashing onto you. You shake your head, trying to dispel whatever Folie a deux you both seem to have fallen victim to. You need to pull the plug on this insanity before you completely lose your mind.

“Forget it. This is insane. Those memories aren't real. We're just working ourselves up into a frenzy. My brain has obviously sprung up all that shit out of my anxiety regarding me and Beomgyu's relationship, and after I told you about them, you started dreaming them up too.” You narrow your eyes at him as you attempt to rationalize your way through this mess, “Or you're taking advantage of my obvious mental instability to convince me to ditch my boyfriend to be with you.”

That must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense and you try to hold onto it like a woman drowning, but Taehyun refuses to let you.

“For fuck's sake, woman, wake up!” He grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you as if he could forcefully shake off the walls of denial you’ve been trying to build around yourself. “It's me. We've been reincarnated again for some sick reason and we're forced to relive everything we've done again, just in a different setting. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe it's a test to see if we would choose differently. Choose right.”

“And the right choice is you?” You ask and he scoffs, looking affronted by the mere idea of there being a question about it. “It clearly isn't him. After all he's done to you. He imprisoned you. He raped you… He killed you.”

He looks as if he doesn't fully realize what he'd said until he’d said it, as if the returning memory was compelling his tongue to speak before it's been fully realized in his brain, and as the memory passes through him to you, you suddenly feel a sharp, piercing pain in your abdomen. It only lasts for a second but it draws the breath right out of you. For that second it feels like your soul is being carried away on that breath and you panic at the terrifyingly all too familiar sensation of dying. No. No. No.

But just as suddenly as that breath was exhaled, it was shoved back into your chest when Taehyun covers the phantom wound with his hand. Your own hands quickly clasp around his, and your eyes widen in a gruesome realization.

“He killed our baby.” You whisper, your face suddenly wet with tears you didn't realize were there. Oh god. You're the dead ex-girlfriend, aren't you? There was never anyone else. It was always you.

“He did. He wasn’t going to let anyone have you if he couldn’t. Even your own child.” Taehyun says, allowing a painful melancholy back into his voice. “So he stole you from the world.”

You and Taehyun slowly and fearfully piece together this traumatic past life you seemed to share, some details you had already recalled before while others were triggered by Taehyun’s own mad recollections. It's not a perfect story. There are many gaps in it but the main frame is enough.

You were a Lady at Prince Beomgyu's royal palace. You loved each other but couldn't be together because he was betrothed to someone else, couldn't even tell eachother. But Beomgyu was secretly plotting to keep you bound to him, and it was working until Taehyun came into the picture and you developed an interest in each other. Beomgyu didn’t like that and he went crazy and… he hurt you. That pushed you to finally escape from him and marry Taehyun but your marriage wasn't perfect and Beomgyu took advantage of that. He threatened the lives of thousands, including Taehyun, if you didn’t go back to him. Taehyun told you not to but you did. You thought you'd be saving him and everyone else but you had just stupidly walked into Beomgyu's trap. He never intended to let Taehyun live. And when you finally realized your mistake, when you saw Taehyun's life on the line, you acted in a moment's frenzy to save him, plunging your knife right into Beomgyu's heart and ultimately succumbing to a fatal wound he dealt to you in response with a kiss and a promise that he'd find you again.

And he did. Gods help you, he did.

It's a horrific story, disgusting, cruel, and you don’t want to believe it. It can't be.

“We have to go. We have to leave before he comes back.” Taehyun pulls on your arm but you hesitate, automatically digging your heels on the ground and not letting him move you. He stares at you in shock. “You can't be serious? You're choosing him again after everything?”

You shake your head, panicking. “No, Taehyun–”

You want to tell him that you haven't chosen anything. You just don't know enough to make a decision. You still don't know if any of this is actually real or if you're both just mad. Even if your brain tells you it is, your heart tells you that it can't be true. This is ridiculous. Beomgyu loves you. He would never do this to you. And who is to say that he even knows any of this himself? What if he's just like you and Taehyun were at first, only feeling an inexplicable sense of love for you and hatred towards Taehyun that he doesn’t even understand the source of? Is that why he had been acting so irrational and scared to lose you? Because he has all these emotions he can't explain?

And what about Taehyun? Yes, you had something maybe in a past life but does any of that translate into right now? Can you abandon Beomgyu and the real love you have for each other in order to build a relationship based just on memories of a previous life that ended tragically for all of you? Did that past Taehyun even love you?

You want to explain all of that to him but you don't even get the chance to before you're interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the front door's lock.

Your eyes widen and fear grips your heart. Despite what you tell yourself about none of this being real, you suddenly fear for Taehyun's life.

“Hide. Please, hide.” You try to tell him but he's not listening to you. He has no intention of hiding and you can see that when he grabs your hand and pulls you behind him roughly.

When Beomgyu steps into the house and sees you, all doubt in your heart about the memories being false dash out of the room with the first word out of his mouth.

“Again?” He asks coldly, viciously. “I knew from the moment you met him that this would happen. Even centuries later you can’t fucking help but act like a slut when he's around, huh?”

“You knew.” You croak, throat closing up to try to prevent that breath from escaping once again, fear shaking you to your core. “You always knew.”

You were too kind. Too stupid. He wasn't acting crazy because he loves you so much and was afraid of losing you. He wasn't acting crazy because he didn't understand his own feelings. He was acting crazy because he's done this before and he’ll be damned if he lets you ruin it again.

"Of course I did. I have to find you every time.”

“Every time?” The shaking spreads to your heart, weakening it, throwing off its rhythm. Your poor, naive heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself when the one person it loved and trusted in the world has been lying to it this whole time. “This happened more than once before?”

He laughs cruelly. “This, something else, the details differ but it's always us. Me and you.” He turns to Taehyun with rage that could hardly be contained in the small room. “Not him. I haven't seen him since that first time. The gods really wanted to piss me off this time.”

“Or maybe they wanted her to finally break free from you.” Taehyun's grip tightens around you–to hold you back or to protect you, you don’t know–something that Beomgyu doesn’t fail to notice, his upper lip curling in a snarl, clearly displeased that Taehyun even dares to touch you. But before he can act out on his rage, you speak up.

“So what? We just keep getting reincarnated and reliving this misery over and over again?” You’re surprised he hears you when you can hardly hear yourself.

“You do. Not me. I was only reincarnated once, right after we died. I spent many lifetimes in your tomb, mourning you. I thought that was what I was brought back for and I would've stayed there forever but I was drawn out by the gods who wanted me to realize they’ve sent you back again and again for me to find you. It's amusing to them, to see me suffer and lose you.”

He knew from the beginning. He knew lifetimes ago and he lied to you from the start, made you feel crazy for having these dreams, tried to gaslight you into believing it was all in your head all while working to put distance between you and everyone else so he can have you all to himself. How long was he going to keep up the facade for? Is this what he did every time or does he always come up with new cruel and unusual ways to break you just like he did that very first time?

“Why?” You ask lowly and he stares at you in confusion, not understanding the question so you gather up your strength and speak louder, more clearly. You need to finally get answers. “Does it ever work?”

“Sometimes it does. For a little while anyway, before the gods decide we've had it good for too long and tear us apart again.” He scowls, blasphemously enraged at those mythically evil gods. “At first I thought they were giving us second chances but they're just laughing at us, watching us get together before ripping us apart like a child ripping the wings off a fly.”

“Then why let them? Why keep doing it?” You ask again and Beomgyu directs his anger at you.

"Would you have been able to have all those memories of us, not just of our first life but every single one after, all these fragments of our infinity together and just ignore it and move on, just pretend like you don't know the other half of your soul is out there waiting for you to complete them?"

You shake your head. No. You've fallen for it before you'd even regained your memories. You can't imagine how brutal it is on him. God, to imagine him scouring the earth looking for you only to lose you again and again in horrific ways… it made your soul ache for him despite everything.

"I have to keep trying. We were so close this time. We were fucking happy. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for us but you had to ruin it. You had to let him in.” He growls at Taehyun who was unimpressed with his entire confession.

“If my mere existence was enough to ruin your happiness then maybe it wasn't real from the start.” He challenges, not letting you go for a second. He'd learned his lesson. His hold on you hurts, turns your hand cold and blue but you dare not protest. “You've lied to her, manipulated her and blinded her until she bowed to your twisted will and even then she was still struggling against you every step of the way. If you really loved her, you would let her go. I bet she was the most happy during those lifetimes when you were under the ground in her tomb where you belong. You killed her. You deserve to mourn her for eternity. You don't deserve to get a second chance with her.”

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. I know she wants to be with me, which is more than I could say about you.” Beomgyu’s face twists in a sadistic grin. “Despite everything, she still can’t live without me. You know, because you've tried to make her. She never loved you and it kills you to know it.”

That works. Taehyun lets go of your hand and lunges at him. Beomgyu is on the ground before the scream leaves your tense throat. He didn’t stand a chance. You’ve seen Taehyun fight before, and Beomgyu–immortal being that he is–still is not able to weather the flurry of punches Taehyun’s trained fists are raining down at him.

Taehyun pummels him to the ground right in front of your eyes and you can’t bear to see it. Yes, Beomgyu has hurt you. Yes, he has been lying to you and manipulating you all this time. Yes, he's done unthinkable things for you, to you, but you still can't just stand there and watch him get hurt. You're sick of all the pain. You want it to be different this time. Maybe that's the way to break free of this curse.

You try to tear them apart but Taehyun is like an unstoppable force that has been dying to be unleashed. You cry and pull and plead but he doesn’t stop, slowly reducing the love of your life into a bloody, gory crime scene before your very eyes and you don't know what to do to stop him.

It’s only when you see the glint of a knife as he pulls it out of his pocket that you’re able to finally do something to stop the carnage, and you throw yourself over Beomgyu in order to protect him.

“Please!” You cry out, inconsolable. “Please, stop hurting him.”

Please, don’t take him from me again. You hear her sob from deep inside your soul, getting louder and louder by the second as she struggles to finally break through the rusty door of memory and time.

“He has to die.” Taehyun growls, looking crazed. “He won't stop until he’s dead.”

No. No more death. That can’t be how it ends again.

“I can't let you hurt him.” You sob, shielding Beomgyu with your life. You don’t know if this Taehyun would kill you–You don’t know if past Taehyun would’ve killed you–but you can’t let him do this.

“I knew you would choose me, princess.” You hear Beomgyu’s muffled voice from beneath you and look down to see a demented, bloody grin on his face before you and Taehyun are thrown off him.

He does it so easily, leaving you to gape at him in shock. If he could’ve done this from the start then why did he let Taehyun beat him up?

You watch in horror as the tables quickly turn and in the blink of an eye it’s Taehyun that is on the floor and Beomgyu is on top of him with his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him. No matter how hard Taehyun tries to push him off, he does not budge.

You try too. Beomgyu was never heavy, even you are usually able to throw him around if you really wanted to, but now he is like a rock that can’t be moved. You rip at his clothes and nothing. You claw at his skin and nothing. Nothing happens except the slow snuffing of Taehyun’s breath under him.

“No. Why are you doing this?” You wail, tears burning on your cheeks. “Just stop. Please. I can’t lose either of you again.”

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that would only make Beomgyu angrier. "This is why he has to die. We were happy before he came along and we’ll be happy again once he’s gone.”

You can see Taehyun’s face turn blue as he struggles and fails to push Beomgyu off him, the only sound coming from him are his thrashing limbs, no air able to escape from under Beomgyu’s death grip.

The view is enough to suffocate even you and you quickly say everything you could think of that might persuade Beomgyu to spare Taehyun, even if spelt your own doom. “Don't hurt him. I'll go with you. I swear I will go with you and I won't try to fight you ever again. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll be all yours.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me when you’ve broken them so easily before. It doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyway.” He answers, unimpressed and you shake your head. “I will fight you every day if you hurt him. I will never forgive you. You may have me physically but my heart won’t be yours anymore. You’ve fucked up so much Beomgyu. You owe me this.”

He grunts, his hands tightening around Taehyun’s throat for a second–the poor man’s face almost turning purple now–before he loosens his grip enough to allow a thin, raspy breath of air into Taehyun’s lungs.

“What does it matter anyway? He'll be reborn again. Away from us.” He spits out angrily, his fingers twitching–dying to resume their vice grip on Taehyun’s throat but thankfully holding back.

"It matters to me. If you want me to let you have me, you’ll spare him.”

To your surprise, it is not Beomgyu but Taehyun who speaks up, his voice so uncharacteristically weak coming out of his almost crushed windpipe. “Let him kill me. Maybe then I'll be rid of you.”

The coldness in his voice freezes the air in your lungs, forming jagged icicles that tear you apart from the inside.

“You've made a fool of me too many times before. I will not live out another life as a fool. Free me of you.”

You hold back your tears. “Taehyun…”

“You'll never escape from him because you deserve him.”

Beomgyu looks torn between his fury at Taehyun’s vicious attack on you, and his relief that he’s ruining whatever goodwill you’d built up behind his back, but he seems to settle on the latter, a slow unkind smile warping his lips.

“See what he is? He was never the better option. He would never love you like I do, unconditionally and forever. Let me kill him. It will do us all good.” His voice turns fearsome on that last appeal and you struggle to remain unshaken in the face of it. Yes, you deserve this. If all the little and big pieces of your past life that have come back to you are real then you deserve to live in a world bound to the monster you nurtured and hated by the one man who tried to break you free from him.

“Let him live.” You insist, fighting both men for Taehyun’s life now. “Let him live or I’ll make sure that all that you’ve worked for this time will have been for naught. You may as well kill me after him because you’ll never be able to have me in this lifetime again.”

Beomgyu bares his teeth at you like a feral dog, unhappy about your demands of mercy for the sake of the man who in his eyes was the reason he lost you–and by the sounds of it is intent on doing it again.

“If you keep me alive I will hunt you both down until I kill you.” He warns and Beomgyu looks at you in a silent plea, like a child begging to pour salt on a slug, but you shake your head at him.

Do you not care about his threat? Of course you do. Do you not believe him? Of course you do. But just like before, you've got no one to blame but yourself and Beomgyu–Beomgyu because he forces the strings of fate to weave to his will and bring you together no matter how ugly and knotted it ends up making your lives, and you for always stringing along innocent people into it, tying them up into a mess that isn’t their own.

“Come on, Beomgyu.” You put your hand out to him. “Let’s go.”

You see the vitriol in his eyes soften at the extended hand. You know he wants to take it. He wants nothing more than to take your hand and disappear forever with you–Taehyun is an afterthought to him, this entire life just a distraction in the grand scheme of things–and so he does. He reaches out to take your hand, but not before he grabs Taehyun’s head, smacking it against the hard ground and knocking him out.

You gasp at the violent action, withdrawing your hand in shock but Beomgyu doesn’t let you, reaching out to clasp it tightly in his own hand, reminding you that once you give him something, you can never have it back. “Beomgyu!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up and pulling you flush against his body. “He’ll live. Might take some time to recover, or better yet he’ll be dumber for it, but he’ll live just like you wanted. Now forget about him and just focus on me.” He grabs your chin and turns your gaze away from the unconscious Taehyun and towards his own face. “You have to hold up your end of the bargain now princess or you'll pay with his life.”

Of course. Even this small act of kindness couldn't be selfless. He only did it in order to ensure your good behavior. As long as you live, you’ll have to appease Beomgyu's demented whims or Taehyun’s life will be on the line. A deal with the devil.

Your lips tremble and you ask yourself. Is this really what you deserve after all? Were the sins of your past life so offensive to the gods that the only way to pay for them is through eternal damnation with your monster? Was there no hope of salvation for you? And would you have taken it if there was?

“Where are you taking me?” You ask in a shaky voice as he pulls you after him and away from the flat, leaving every part of this temporary life behind.

"Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

__________________________________

The journey to this place in the middle of nowhere lasts longer than you could’ve imagined, longer than you could stay awake, that it feels like he was really taking you somewhere at the edge of the universe where no one can reach you ever again. You doze off as the adrenaline that had kept you going until now leaves your body, and Beomgyu is more than happy to let you rest in the backseat of his car as he takes you through dark remote areas you wouldn’t have been able to keep track of even if you were awake.

When you finally reach your destination and groggily step out of the car with his help, you almost think you’re still dreaming, because in front of you is a massive mansion you’ve never seen or heard off before. All the way around was nothing but empty woods, the imposing and impressive structure seemingly completely cut off from the rest of the world.

You look at Beomgyu in shock, the sleep flying off your eyes at the unexpected sight.

Beomgyu grins–or at least attempts to through the swelling of his lips, his bloody teeth barely visible underneath. Oh, your poor beautiful boy. He looks like a mess. “Do you like it, princess?”

“H-How?” You ask cluelessly as he pulls you towards the entrance. “Being immortal has its perks. I knew I needed to make myself a small fortune to show off whenever you were ready to come back to me.”

You’re in for a bigger shock when you finally step inside the mansion, because everyone and everything here–all the decorations, furniture, servants and household staff gathered around to greet you–are all styled in a way you only recognize from your dreams. The entire mansion looks as if Beomgyu had plucked it straight out of your first life.

And yes, there are people there. You had been fully expecting this grand building to be running on magic or something ridiculous like that. After all, if immortality and vengeful gods are real, what makes the thought that stupid? But no, there are people here and you honestly can’t tell if they belong to this era or if Beomgyu somehow stole them from your previous life.

“Welcome home, my lady.” A woman who you presume to be the head of the household staff bows towards you. You just stare at her, mouth agape. She didn’t look like she was wearing a costume or putting on an act. She looked exactly how you remember the staff at the old palace looked like.

And what did she say? Home? Is this really home? It looked like it–definitely smaller than Beomgyu’s old palace despite how big and opulent it is by modern standards– but you’re scared by how your guards are already going down by the familiar sight.

Beomgyu nudges you as the woman straightens back up and stares at you in expectation.

“Uh, yes, thank you.” You chew on your lip and Beomgyu chuckles lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my princess. This is all a bit of a shock for her. I am sure once she goes back to her old self, she’ll be much more mannerly.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me.” The woman laughed graciously in turn, “The poor dear must be exhausted from all that travel. I know we have all been waiting for her to finally arrive but I suppose our welcome party will have to wait for the morning when she’s properly rested.”

They have been waiting? They knew you were coming. Beomgyu was always going to win, wasn't he? It was just a matter of time. He always does.

“That’s right. She can hardly stay upright from the fatigue.” He pulls you towards him, and you realize belatedly that he’s holding you up by the waist. “Pray tell me that our bath is ready.”

“Of course, my prince. And a fresh change of clothes too.” She chirps happily, proud of her immaculate service. “It’s all waiting for you upstairs.”

“Wonderful.” Beomgyu turns towards you and smiles, “Let's head to our chambers, love, shall we?”

Your spacious bedroom has an almost equally large ensuite attached to it where some servants were still fussing about, putting extra oils and salts into your bath to make it gentler and more calming, before Beomgyu dismisses them and goes about his familiar habit of bathing both you and himself. You barely register any of it, too preoccupied by the overstated luxury of the place around you to pay much attention to him undressing you and pulling you into the large tub–the water a perfect temperature, the smell heavenly, his touch both gentle and purposeful as he attempts to cleanse you of your previous life.

You feel both out of place and right at home, the two very different sides of you pushing and pulling as you look around the room. The way this bathroom is decorated and even the products he’s using look and feel more expensive than your entire life had been so far, and Beomgyu appears well aware of that fact and quite pleased with it too–happy that he could finally show off what he’s been dying to for so long. You always had a feeling he wanted to shower you in the finer things and you never understood or accepted it because you thought he was just another broke college student making stupid rash decisions in order to impress his love, but now you get it.

He makes sure to explain to you the source of everything he’s using and the rare ingredients that go into it, trying to appeal to that old part of you that had apparently yearned for spoils and riches. Of course these weren’t just simple shower products that normal plebs use. These were made specifically for you, just waiting for your arrival. He points out every aspect of the bathroom and the room attached to it that seems to be catching your eye at the moment and tells you how he chose them and where he got them from–how he chose the golden and brown accents because they’re reminiscent of the sunflowers you so adore–how he had the ceiling decorated in shining stars to resemble the stars you would see when you laid in each other’s arms in the palace gardens. It was all so meticulously planned and decorated just for you.

Is it really for you though? It may have been for a past you but are you still her? Can this extravagance be for you when you never even realized that anyone would ever care to spend so much money on a place that everyone else uses only to get rid of their waste or wash off the dirt and grime off their bodies?

But as Beomgyu continues to flaunt it all to you, you realize that even a room as ordinary as a bathroom is another space where the rich and powerful can show off their wealth. It’s a room where they go to shed the filth of the outside world away and relish in their highly curated luxury and beauty just as Beomgyu is doing right now–diligently scrubbing that real world off you and washing it down the drain until this fantasy mansion looks like it could be where you belong.

If just the bathroom was hard for you to wrap your head around, you can’t even begin to describe how lavish the connected bedroom is, but one thing that catches your eye amidst the exuberance of it all is the portrait in the middle of the wall facing you. It’s a portrait of you and Beomgyu, or rather prince Beomgyu and the person you were back then. He is standing behind you in all his royal garb and you’re in front of him dressed in the finest silks and jewelry money can buy, shining like his most prized possession as one of his hands rests on your shoulder and another is seen wrapped around your waist possessively.

“Do you like it, princess?” He asks after he dries you off with the softest towel you’ve ever felt on your skin, his hands almost mirroring the portrait as his slightly bloody lips follow the curve of your neck, not caring if he leaves small crimson streaks on your skin. “Does the place suit your taste?”

“It’s…” You utter slowly, eyes jumping around the room as Beomgyu stares at you with hopeful anticipation, waiting for the realization of all his effort, but as you say your next words, his expression falls. “It’s a lot.”

“A lot?” He scoffs, offended. “The you I know would never say such a word.”

You gulp. “Well maybe that person isn’t here anymore.”

Why would you say that? Why would you purposefully upset him when he’s shown you time and time again what he’s capable of? It’s a lie of course. She has always been there deep inside, slumbering but not dead, just waiting for him to come back and awaken her.

“Not there anymore?” He growls, pushing you onto the impossibly soft bed and climbing over you, not as gentle as he had been so far. “Bullshit. You just need a little reminding.”

He kisses you roughly, angrily, with the weight of centuries of longing that had turned sharp and tender. You can’t help but respond back. Despite your words, she claws her way out of the abyss at his beckoning.

“Why do you always have to make me work for it?” He growls, nipping at your neck while his fingers find their way between your legs, the easy practiced way he can get you dripping no longer such a mystery to you. He has honed it over lifetimes. “Why do you love torturing me?”

You? Torturing him? He has controlled you in this life and the first one and probably all others in between. He has manipulated and hurt you in countless ways and yet you’re the one hurting him?

“Because you deserve it.” You breathe out mournfully, “We deserve it.”

His swollen lips curl in distaste. “I don’t care. As long as I got you, I don't give a shit about anything else. Let me be damned for all of eternity as long as you're mine.” He kisses you again, the metallic bitter taste of blood combined with his natural sweetness so fitting for him, your corrupted angel. “Always mine.”

He pushes his fingers inside you and your pussy takes him easily, knowing who it belongs to before even you did.

The way he has you on your back with your legs open and your feet in the air is a scene you’re sure has recurred over and over again across your centuries with him, repeatedly laying his claim to your pliant body until you can no longer rebuke him, your body knowing what to expect now even if your mind still struggles to catch up.

You feel Beomgyu pull on your hand to wrap it around his cock, the silent order from him not needing to be said out loud for your body to start acting, your grip on him turning firm as your hand moves in that practiced way over his cock that has his jaw hanging open and his back arching into your touch, his eyes hungrily feasting on the sight of you splayed open and ready for the taking. But he waits, letting both your desires build up to an unbearable heat.

“Fuck, Beomgyu… just do it already.” You hiss, sick of the wait. He knows you're his. You've always been and always will be so he should just get it over with. But of course Beomgyu can't let it be that simple. He has to force you to say it. He has to rub your face in it so you won't dare disobey or deny him again.

“Is my princess in there?” He cocks his head to the side, his thumb flicking your swollen clit, making you bite down on your lip. You can’t bear the way he looks at you. It makes your skin burn.

“Yes.” A few hot tears fall down the sides of your face. Why bother fighting it anymore? He has won.

“Does she want me?” He continues, pulling his fingers out and making you whimper at the emptiness as he takes your hand off him so he can replace his fingers at your entrance with the head of his cock, hot and thick, taunting you with what he could give you if you bend to his will. “Do you want me?”

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you and looking right into your core, forcing you to face him as you give in.

You let out a pathetic cry. “Yes. I want you. I will always want you.”

“Good girl.” He pushes inside you, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, like coming home after being lost for so long. “I missed you so much. I always knew you'd come back to me.”

He did. This entire mansion is a testament to it. And so you lie there on your back and take it, getting fucked open by Beomgyu, his beat up face not taking away from his beauty. If anything, his bruised and bloody visage contrasts with the backdrop of the elaborate and extravagant ceiling above him and serves to drive home the lengths he’s willing to go–the ugliness and horror he’s willing to let come pass so he can have you, so he can steal you away and keep you as a good, pliant fucktoy for the prince who had always been greedy for more than his fair share.

“Maybe I should thank the fool for getting you back to me.” He murmurs, making your eyes jump from the glittering chandelier above him to his sparkling eyes that cannot be dimmed even by the blackness around them, that have only been put off once by death itself before he revolted against it and came back for you. “Getting you to remember us.”

You frown. You know what he means. You were together before Taehyun came into the picture but not fully, not the way he wanted you to be. But now he's slowly getting back the you he's always been chasing, the you he may have only reunited with a few times over centuries. You understand that. Still that doesn't mean he can disparage Taehyun, and it doesn’t mean that you want to be reminded of him.

“Don't speak of him.” You don't want to hear it. You're here, aren't you? He won and you’re here. He should just let you forget what that has meant for you.

He smiles, more than happy to not speak another word of Taehyun ever again, and rewards you by bending down to kiss you as he fucks his cock ruthlessly in and out of you, fully devoted to helping you forget.

“Fuck, I really missed you.” He groans against your lips before pulling back so he can feast his eyes on you. “Now that I have you back I don't think I can give you a break until I show you just how much I missed you. Gotta make up for all our lost time.” He drills his cock faster and harder into you, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh ringing around the room so loudly you're worried that all other occupants of the house can also hear it. “Not gonna rest until all your holes are filled to the brim with my cum and you remember just how much I love you.”

“Gyu…” You whine at his loud promises, fearing the rest of the household is hearing his filth. “Keep it down.”

He laughs, fucking you harder. “Why should I? Everyone here knows who you belong to. They know their master will be fucking his princess every night. Every day. They may as well get used to it now because I don’t intend on hiding any of it.”

“What?” Your cheeks flush bright, surely he is not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“This isn't our old palace, princess. I don't have to hide what is mine anymore and I expect you not to either. And if that means they can hear or even see me claiming what is mine then so be it. It’s what I always wished I could do anyway.”

Yes, you know that very well–images of Prince Beomgyu’s attempts at inappropriate touches in public flitting through your brain. You shake your head, whining. “Not hiding, just common decency…”

“Fuck that. Gonna show the whole universe who this pussy belongs to.” He growls, and you feel one of his hands move between your bodies to reach your pussy, his fingers easily rubbing your soaked lips and making your thighs tense up.

“Beomgyu!” You cry at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clenching around him when you get no escape from it, his hips incessantly thrusting against yours and barreling you towards what you know will be a blinding orgasm. “It’s too much.”

He shakes his head, fingers going faster. “Not enough. Never enough. Now cum for me, princess. Make a mess on my cock.”

As if you could have stopped it even if you wanted to. Your orgasm causes your whole body to seize up–your thighs crash around his thin waist, your pussy spasming on his twitching cock, your nails digging down into the flesh of his back as you throw your head back and cry out loudly, the irony of you asking for decency not lost on your grinning lover.

“That’s it. Good girl. Now take it. Take all of me.” He grunts, spending himself inside you, the first of the many times he promised you he would. The first of your lifetime together. “I love you. I love you so much.”

In the heat of it all, it takes you a second to respond, a second too long for Beomgyu’s liking, and he grabs your face and makes you lock eyes with him. “I love you.” He repeats, continuing to fuck his cum into you as he waits for your response.

“I-I love you too.” You gasp out, your nails digging even deeper into his skin, begging him to give you a break, the overstimulation ruthlessly gripping your own flesh. “I love you. Please.”

He finally slows down. It takes him a minute to completely stop, and you can see that he didn’t really want to but he does iit for you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, doubt and insecurity plaguing his swollen features, silently asking you to put his troubled soul at ease. He may be a cruel and calculating being sent back to punish you for your sins, but underneath it all he’s still your lovesick boy, your prince whose soul yearns for yours, and it would be the cruelest thing of all to deny him that one thing that keeps him from perishing.

You nod, reaching out weakly to play with his hair, your muscles cut down by fatigue then completely turned to mush by pleasure. “Yes, I did. I missed you even when I didn’t know who I was missing.”

He smiles gently at that, letting out a small breath of relief that conveys all his vulnerability before bending down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. “I’m right here. I promise to keep reminding you..”

You don’t know if he’s promising this to himself or to you, but it leads your mind to troubling questions.

“Are they going to let us stay together?” You frown, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of those cruel gods he’d spoken of. Now that you have him–now that you know exactly what you’ve been missing, it petrifies you to have him ripped away from you again so soon. If you must be damned to be with him, then let you be with him, damn it!

“For this lifetime, maybe.” He answers hoarsely, uncertainly. “Every time you choose me, we're doomed further. They're just letting us rack up the debt.”

“Choose? Do I ever have a choice?” Your question is innocent, your mind too scrambled to come up with an intentional attack, yet Beomgyu still perceives it as such.

“Of course you do. You always do. If you reject me enough times, you condemn me to a hell like no other, to being cut away from you forever.” He answers defensively, needing you to know that you’re not blameless in any of this, and you know you’re not because your heart spasms painfully at the thought of being forever severed from him the same way an artery spasms around itself to keep from bleeding out. “If I force you then it's the same. You have to choose me yourself. That's the only way we can be together.”

A sick feeling of realization hits you. You suddenly get it–why he let himself get beat up by Taehyun. He had to wait for you to choose him. If he had just killed Taehyun and took you away, it would’ve tallied up against him. He had to let you doom yourself. Even if all you’ve done to earn damnation is to hesitate when Taehyun asked you to run away. Even if you did it to save Taehyun, it didn’t matter. You choosing him will always be your sin.

He's right. These gods really are wicked and unjust.

“Do I choose you every time?” You ask in a small, shaky voice and he frowns, your question prompting what must be disturbing memories to spring to his mind. “Not always but most of the time.”

“What happens when I don't? Do you let me?” You hold your breath, anticipating his response. Does he let you be? Does he force you? Does he hurt you? Is every time you choose him similar to this time and your first life? Could you be pardoned by pleading that you’ve been forced into it or is the sheer amount of times you chose him enough to prove your wickedness beyond a shadow of doubt?

“Why are you asking about that now? You chose me in this lifetime. The rest doesn’t matter.” He brushes you off, goosebumps prickling your skin at his diversion. In his nonanswer lies the truth. No, he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t accept defeat. He never did and never will.

“Doesn’t that bother you, what they’re doing to us? Forcing us into this cycle over and over again?” You push tentatively. “Don't you want to be free?”

If you stop choosing each other, will you break this infernal cycle?

“From you? Never.” He tells you with all the certainty and conviction a man can hold, forehead pressed against yours, your breaths intermingling as if your souls are greeting each other. “Darling, if they give me the choice between heaven and you, I would choose you every time. My existence is meaningless without you, salvation is nothing to me if I can't be with you. I would go through this hell again and again just to spend these precious few moments with you. Let me suffer alone for lifetimes if it means I get even one day like this to feel your love once more.”

Your heart swells, different emotions warring inside of it–eternal love for him, happiness that he is so devoted to you that even death can’t keep you apart, anger that he won’t grant you salvation, hate for everything he’s put you through, horror that you will never escape, soul deep fatigue at the weight of it all–but you can’t even begin to untangle them from each other because he doesn’t let you. This is your reunion and he won’t let it be ruined by your doubts.

Instead, he flips you over, pushing you onto your tummy and pulling your ass up, the sound of him jerking his drenched cock to hardness the only thing you can hear over the ringing in your ears before you feel it breaching your pussy to fill you up again. He lays himself over you, his hips immediately go to work fucking you, making use of every moment he has stolen with you.

“Gyu…” You whine, mind too fried to care much about the way you’re drooling over the expensive sheets. “Too fast.”

“I’m sorry, princess. Just wanna make up for all the lost time. I promise I’ll be gentler later, will take care of you so well.” He babbles, the strain of the pleasure he’s getting from your tight walls evident in his voice. “Promise. Just be good for me tonight. Okay?”

You get it–his desperation, his insatiability. This is one of the only few times in his long, lonely existence when he gets to be with you and have you fully in this way–his princess brought back from the unfathomable and untraversable void of death and lost memories for him. And you can’t find it in you to deprive him of you right now. You’ll think about it later. You’ll worry about what this means for your soul’s eternal damnation tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll let him have you. You’ll let your rotten souls rejoice in the company of their other half.

“Okay.” You mumble dumbly, letting him take you like a bitch as tears of overstimulation line your lashes and your fingers clutch tightly onto the sheets. You can’t even pretend that it doesn’t feel good, every thrust of his hips, every touch of his hands, every filthy word he says, every load he release inside you–it all shifts and molds you into the wretched lover he’s been searching for, the walls you’ve built up to contain her getting torn down with every position he takes you in until you lay limp with no fight left in you and it’s revealed that there is no one behind those walls. There never was. She was always you.

When he’s finally has his fill, and you’re more dirty and ruined than you ever were before the bath, he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms–his tight embrace suffocating and hot after what he just put your body through but he doesn’t care. You don’t care. You’re with each other, and that’s how your story always ends and begins. You've been here many times before and you'll be here for many more to come.

You are at the edge of sleep, almost falling over, when you hear a small sniffle and feel him shake ever so slightly under you. You look up to see his teary eyes and you lift your hand to his face to brush those very costly droplets away. “Why are you crying, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I missed you so much.” He whimpers, his hold on your getting even tighter. “I love you.”

You know. You couldn’t have understood it so fully before but now that you know a fraction of what he went through to get here, you know that his love is not a mere mortal love. It has defied fate itself and it will live on for eons to come. As long as you're on this earth, he'll stay here to find you, and when you leave, he'll follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell or the unfathomable unknown. As long as you're together, his wretched and weary soul can find its peace.

“I missed you too. And I love you.”

And I'm sorry it has come to this. I'm sorry I let our once precious love grow so gruesome and hideous that this twisted ending is our only version of happiness.

_______________________________

A/N: aaaand that's the end of this portion of the story. let me know what you think of this ending. less death than usual lol.

would you rather get tyun's ending (mostly tyun focused) or continue the story from where this chapter leaves off (mostly gyu focused)? Or would you rather a new unrelated story entirely?

Here are some teasers for the two ideas

Tyun's ending:

“Where do we go from here?” You ask defeatedly and he narrows his eyes at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re clearly angry at me. You don't trust me.”

“Yeah, and?”

You frown too. How can he not see where the problem lies? “How are we going to stay together like this?”

“Are you thinking of leaving again?” Now he starts getting angry, vindictive, the wrath of the warlord in him cutting through the centuries.

“No–”

“Because I won't let you. All your bullshit excuses are gone. there is no war. You can't pretend you're going back for the greater good.” His voice is mocking on the last part, and you feel your face heat up.

“It was not an excuse!" You sputter. You can't believe he's saying this to you. "It was real!”

“You’re my wife. That's what's real and you should've stayed loyal.” He tells you unkindly, not interested in your explanations.

“So you want me to stay just out of principle even if you're just going to hate every second of being together?” It would be funny to see the way he has completely not changed even in this new life if it wasn't so painful.

“Maybe. But I certainly won't be made a fool of again and maybe it's high time you experience some consequences for your actions.”

Gyu's ending continuation:

“How could you do this? How could you be so stupid?” Beomgyu's response to you slipping out for the day seems like a wild overreaction. You know he insists on controlling every aspect of your life so you won't leave him again but going out to walk through the surrounding small village for a few hours could hardly have many consequences. Not when he apparently controls the whole village.

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes at him but that just makes him freak out more.

“You don't know what you're risking. He could have found you! He could have taken you away from me!”

“What are you talking about?” You push him off you. “How would he do that when you know exactly where he is at all times?”

You scoff at him but the scared look on his face makes you falter. “You've lost him, didn't you?”

He doesn't answer you, and you watch his face grow paler. “What is he going to do? You’re immortal.”

“But I am not all powerful, and there are beings out there more wicked than me.” He tells you fearfully, reaching out to hold you once more.

Unrelated fic idea:

“Fuck, this feels amazing.” He groans and turns to you, “Can I use him every day?” He asks you cheekily and you grin as you hump against Beomgyu harder. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Look at him, he’s soaking my hand with precum.”

You hear Beomgyu garbled moans around Soobin’s cock and you question him. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Binnie using his big cock right this time?”

Beomgyu whines again and you laugh at him, but Soobin doesn’t find it so funny, not with his cock getting the full brunt of all of Beomgyu’s vocalizations. “Oh god, I’m close. Can I cum on his face?”

You grin widely. “Of course, Binnie. I’m sure Gyu wants to help out his hyung any way he can. He’s so needy he’ll let you cover his pretty in cum because he knows that will earn him a reward. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Also you can send and ask for any of the characters and I’ll answer as the character

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #beomgyu smut #sub!idol #dom!reader #dom!idol #sub!reader #yandere

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piratefishmama · 1 year ago

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Fake it Till you Make It | Part 9

Eddie felt like he’d been dipped directly into some kind of crazy world where nothing made sense. Or rather where everything he thought was true, was actually the opposite.

He was in an opposite world where despite being the obvious odd one out, he was being made to feel comfortable instead of ostracized.

These rich people? Not assholes.

Steve Harrington? Not a douche.

Okay so… that was only two things, but they were two pretty huge things on the Munson Doctrine that he’d now need to mentally re-write

Especially when the response to “we’ve known each other since high school but—but I guess I never really thought much about him until I saw him with Robin at The Hideout, apparently he was making sure my band was child safe for Dustin and the other kids and I—"

Was, “your band?” Interrupting him may have been rude but Lynda looked damn near sparkly eyed at the idea of him being in a band, as if middle-class people like the parents he’d freaked out thus far only thought they knew how to behave to appear richer, and rich people were actually this whole weird little species of their own. “Steven here has always sort of gravitated toward talented people, first Nancy, I’ve never known a girl quite as driven to be heard by the people around her as that one and I’m a lawyer, I really admired her for that.”

“You did?” Steve asked in surprise, why had they never said anything?

“Of course I did! Karen told me she wanted to be a journalist, gosh let me tell you she’ll make an incredible journalist someday, we’re already proud of her.” They knew she wanted to be a journalist? They were proud of her? “Then there was Robin—"

“Robin is my friend.”

“Oh, I know” he didn’t like how she said that word, that know, she couldn’t know-know, right? How would she—how could she? No… no she couldn’t. Robin had never said anything, never hinted at anything, she was terrified of being known, scared of the consequences. It’d taken being stuck in a broken elevator at work and him freaking out about enclosed spaces to come out to him, and he’d had to, in a moment of panic so sure he was going to die in there, come clean about his crush on her for her to do it! “That doesn’t change the fact that you had a crush on her first, don’t think we don’t know about that, we do. Your children are loud.” Dustin. It had to be Dustin. Not the queer thing, the crush thing. He’d never even told the little snot about that, he’d just noticed it, latched onto it, and like a dog with a high prey drive, just refused to let go, shaking it around until it was nothing but tatters. “She’s so talented in linguistics. and languages aren’t easy let me tell you, I don’t know what she intends to do but she’ll go far in it when she gets there.”

Steve was just kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, still semi-convinced that the whole thing was performative and that the second Eddie left, the moment Steve was on his own with them, they’d pull the rug out and it’d have all been for ‘show’ and they weren’t supportive at all.

He was ‘dating’ a musician. Not a rich one. An unknown musician from an unknown band, living in a trailer park, with zero prospects, zero connections, and frankly a terrible reputation around the parents of Hawkins for his little fake date scheme.

Surely that had to be breaking some kind of unwritten rule for rich kids. Right? Surely his parents would have expected more from him, right?

Surely this wasn’t actually okay… was it? Was it really okay? Could it be okay? If… if he actually wanted that? Would it continue to be okay, or were they just saving face until it was safe to return to being the disappointed set of parents he’d come to know as an adolescent?

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention…” Eddie squeezed his hand, he didn’t have to look at him to know he’d fixed those bring brown eyes on him all warm and supportive. There for him, if he needed him to step in.

If he needed him to make it all about him again, to shine the spotlight on himself in either a positive or negative light, Eddie would.

He squeezed back, he’d be okay.

“Oh sweetheart… we may not be the best at showing it, but we’re not blind. You were just a little harder to speak to when you were younger, all those parties, and the drinking, the drugs—”

“It was just—”

“Marijuana is a drug, son.” John finally spoke up and that was the end of that argument, although Eddie was visibly trying to hide a grin as the towns resident ex-drug dealer who’d maybe supplied that marijuana once or twice. “Not one a boy that age should have been consuming.” True, he’d kill the kids if he ever caught them smoking weed unsupervised.

Maybe if he was there, he’d let them do it once just to show them what it was like. But once would be the maximum, and they’d be supervised!

He’d been unsupervised surrounded by strangers with alcohol and bad decisions to make. He was lucky he hadn’t wound up knocking some poor girl up or something equally life destroying.

“Yes, like your father says it was difficult, your father and I… we had to be the bad guys more often than we’d have liked and then things at the office got busy and well… maybe all that put a strain on things, but we were never not paying attention, I’m sorry we made you think that.” Another gentle squeeze. Eddie was there.

He'd continue to be there.

“So Stevie here has a type is what I’m hearing” Eddie finally spoke up, breaking the tension, a small but warm smile on his face that Steve appreciated more than he could possibly say.

“So I like people to be passionate about what they like! I like intelligent people—”

“Oof, puts me out of luck then” Eddie cut in with a dramatic little pout on his face, hand over his heart.

“Are you kidding me? You’re smart, you’re really smart!”

“Dude I failed high school like, three times. Pretty sure they finally let me graduate out of pity.”

“Yeah but that was bullshit, not everyone is good at school. I barely passed an I’m still half certain I only did cause of the sports shit.” Maybe the money thing too “but you can come up with all kinds of stuff on the fly, I know you ‘DM’ for that dungeons and demons shit an you deal with Dustin, Mike, AND Erica like a pro and honestly that takes some work the kids are nightmare children normally, so it’d probably be actual hell when you have to believably improv their characters taking a liking to some random NPC you’ve conjured up to be a weird little one time interaction and—and I know you can recite Shakespeare! And come up with your own Shakespeare-like poems, that SOUND like Shakespeare, and you write your songs which is cool, and you play guitar which is tricky I know I tried once it’s not easy, and in debate, people couldn’t keep up with you ever and—” and he was rambling.

“—Dragons…” Eddie gently cut him off, eyes wide but his smile… it looked like a cross between awe and affection. It was beautiful, and the dimple was there which made it extra pretty. Fuck why was Eddie Munson so goddamn pretty all of a sudden?

Was it even sudden? “Huh?”

“Dragons… you know NPC, but you don’t know it’s Dungeons and Dragons…” he sounded so fond, so soft spoken it was strange… but a good kind of strange that made Steve’s cheeks warm “you—you know all that about me?”

“W-well… yeah I mean—we’re dating, of course I know about the Dungeons and Dragons stuff I—” he could explain it away for his parents but Eddie, who was in on their fake dating thing, emphasis on the fake couldn’t be so easily fooled.

“No, not the D&D stuff… the Shakespeare thing, poetry, debate class, you saw that?”

It was his turn to be bashful, to be shy, to squeeze that hand, to be honest about something he’d never thought too hard about but god he had to now, didn’t he? “…You were hard to miss, Eddie.” He’d grown up, he could appreciate what he’d scoffed and rolled his eyes at back when he was a dumb teenager, he could admit that he’d seen Eddie, that deep down, despite the scoffing, the eye rolling, that deep down he liked that.

Deep down he’d always liked Eddie. He just wished he’d have been less of a douchebag, maybe they’d have known each other sooner.

“Ehem” Lynda gently cleared her throat, not cruelly, her smile definitely a little mischievous, a little ‘i'm going to be INSUFFERABLE about this’ but not trying to break up the moment, she just had to ask “Eddie… I’m not sure if you still live at home, but… if you do, are your parents… okay with you being away for a week with total strangers? Do… do they know about—”

“Ah! Uhm, yeah! Well, yes and no. My parents aren’t really… around, I live with my Uncle Wayne, he took me in when I was a kid.” He wasn’t going into that story, and nobody could make him for the sake of a fake date scheme “He knows about me… uh… about us… he’s okay with it, but he did ask that he meet you both before we go, if I’m allowed to come with you?”

“We’d be thrilled to have you, Eddie, he can meet us any time he likes.”

Main Goal. Achieved.

Part 11

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #they're so believable someone who knows this is all fake should probably tell them #probably

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amarynthian-chronicles · 3 months ago

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Tip the Scales Chapter 1

Prosecutor Sun, Prosecutor Moon, Judge Eclipse x Defense Lawyer (Devil's Advocate) Reader

(You are a charismatic defense lawyer in a constant competition with two ruthless prosecutors that do not understand your ideals about criminals deserving a second chance. You are also housemates with a certain bitter and retired judge, who has a habit of operating at night as a cloaked figure known as the Judge of the Damned. Things get complicated when your old friend Monty gets accused of a murder he claims to not have committed willingly. Will you balance the scales once more?)

Warnings: suggestive themes, possessive behaviour, mentions of violence

There was a particular universal truth that court employees would never dare to admit about court proceedings: not a single one of them actually wanted to be there. Those that did enjoy being present during a session were either lying to themselves or were being paid obscene amounts of cash to pretend to care. In other extreme cases, it was all a part of unhinged ambition sprinkled with a dash of insanity.

Normally the whole process was a dreary affair, varying from sordid and depressing, all the way to showing what an administrative inferno the whole institution had become over time. True to the Dickensian fashion of describing things, one could say that the gloomy and omnipresent fog that had consumed the city with the arrival of Fall was equally present in the courtroom itself, both metaphorically and literally, entering every pore and chilling everyone to the bone.

However, in our specific situation things were getting quite heated. The cold September fog had been rudely pushed aside by the steam of intense and fiery debate you were having with prosecuting attorney Sun.

A bitter rivalry existed between you and the celestial-themed animatronic, but over the past year it seemed to have bloomed into obsessive fascination on Sun's part. We could classifiy it as another universal truth that one was bound to eventually become infatuated and captivated by their “nemesis“.

Placing you two in the same room was a very bad idea. Or a very good idea, it honestly depended on who you asked. For instance, the general public that had come to listen to your long nonsensical argument had arrived there for the sole purpose of finding out whether you two would passionately kiss somewhere in the middle of the whole discussion.

The suspense was maddening, the tension was more than palpable. One of the clerks was fanning himself with a folder, wondering whether or not he had taken his heart medication earlier.

“Could somebody open a window, please?“

There had always been an unusually thin line between love and hatred, enemies and lovers, but somehow it seemed oddly fitting for you and Sun to combine both at the same time with no problem.

After a well crafted comeback, believing himself to be the victor, Sun winked at you, triumphant and his grin wide and sinister.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?“

“My dear sir, I cannot say, I hardly even felt anything.“

“I was under the impression that we have long abandoned this little “playing hard to get“ scenario.“

“Goodness, that sounds serious, delusions could be a sign of a system malfunction, you should get that checked, Sun.“

“Don't be so high and mighty. You will lose today, both the case and the little bet we made.“

“Oh, my, so ominous. I sure am devastated on the inside, inconsolable, I shall probably never recover.“

You were driving him insane. Healthy competition was usually highly encouraged, but this was beyond ridiculous. No matter how eloquent and skillful he was in the art of rhetoric, you refused to yield. You were still a relatively young jurist, having passed the bar examination barely two years prior, but your legal reasoning was unusually innovative and your application of creative solutions to impossible problems was astounding. There wasn't a single thing that Sun could throw at you without you catching it and throwing it ten times harder right back at him.

The judge, an elderly man that was diligently counting down the days till it was socially acceptable to retire from what was regularly a life tenure, was listening to the two of you bicker as if it were the latest installment of his favourite picture show series. He wondered if he should simply let you silly lovebirds borrow his chambers for a minute or two. Or thirty, wherever the feeling takes you. He was very supportive.

He was also the only judge in the building willing to tolerate the nonsense that you and the Celestial Prosecutors kept pulling off in the courtroom. It was free entertainment and he needed some amusement in his old age. The rest of the judicial assembly would have to pull straws each time a new case had to be assigned.

He remembered how different things had been a few years prior.

It was an open secret that the judicial assembly missed the old days when the esteemed Judge Eclipse had still been in office, before his abrupt retirement under unusual circumstances. Eclipse would always volunteer to do all the work, snatching case files from everybody's hands and closing himself in his chambers, leaving the possibility for the rest of the assembly to simply enjoy their coffee and gossip in the conference room.

Intense and immensely dedicated to his work, unyielding, unforgiving and merciless, Eclipse had been akin to a dark deity of the afterlife, deciding the fate of souls that had succumbed to corruption. His golden eyes had held nothing but pure contempt for evildoers, his mechanical heart perpetually hungry for the suffering of the wicked. Court sessions under his administrations had been a thing of horror for some and an example of a job well-done for others. Deranged and disproportionate punishments had made Eclipse quite unpopular in the criminal milieu, and there had been quite a few attempts on his life that would usually end up with the assassins themselves having their spines twisted into a pretty pretzel.

Self-defense, clear-cut, no questions asked, nobody left to mourn a few dismembered rulebreakers.

The euphoria had been too intoxicating, the flesh of Evil too delicious, the screams of the damned a symphony unmatched.

One thing had lead to another, interfering into interrogations, conflict of interest, violating every possible rule of criminal procedure, prisoners being found dead in their cells, acquitted individuals dying under suspicious circumstances mere days after their release.

The courthouse and law enforcement would always turn a blind eye. Whispers in the corridors, silent gasps in the archive rooms, everybody knew of Eclipse's tendencies, his desire to play god. Nobody had dared to make a fuss about the whole situation, not even when a few fellow judges that had been accused of bribery had one day "mysteriously" disappeared. It was all a silent approval. Crime statistics had been fixing themselves, who would dare interfere?

Deciding to return to topics less grim and vile, the current judge smiled fondly at the prosecutors and the sly defense lawyer before him. Such a sweet change, whimsy and passion reigning supreme, banishing the sepulchral dread of olden times.

Contrary to custom, Sun was working with his brother Moon by his side. It was definitely unusual for two prosecutors to work together on same cases and appear in court as a team, but nobody had ever complained about it and regulations had no explicit rule against it. It was Moon's duty to make a thorough research and keep Sun informed of any new facts or legal acts in order for Sun to prepare a proper presentation to enthrall everyone in the courtroom or ask for appropriate actions.

They used all of their individual strengths and skills to achieve the best results. Reminiscent of their older brother's inclinations, their methods and ruthless determination in the pursuit of their version of justice at all costs had become notorious, eventually making the general public refer to them as the Grand Inquisitors.

All of that aside, the two of them still had to make sure that each investigation went perfectly by the books and that there were no irregularities made by law enforcement in the initial stages of each investigation. Being a prosecutor was akin to being a sea captain that constantly kept hoping that his crew was sober. One single mistake meant that the other party would pounce on it like a feral animal.

And pounce you did.

For instance, you were easily capable of rendering a whole confession useless by claiming it was inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion. It was no trouble for you to stage a whole scene.

You had pulled off such a stunt a few times in the past and the results would always follow a hilarious pattern: the confused police officers would simply blink and question their general reality on whether they had truly applied excessive force, the public audience would try not to snack too loudly on the popcorn they had brought, the defendant would do his best to keep crying and keeping his story straight about how absolutely devastated and tortured he was, the judge would hope that no reporters would come crawling in the courtroom and asking about human rights violations. Again.

The celestial twins were unused to such audacity and blows to their pride. Sun and Moon had always been a powerful force that had never known the meaning of failure, the playing field had been theirs to dominate and it was pure madness to even think that anyone could place an end to that. And then you showed up and suddenly the courtroom was a circus, you were the ringmaster and you turned the two of them into the lead jesters of the whole show.

They were furious with you for making a mockery of their act. How dare you?

Moon did his best to remain subtle with his temper, even if his pencils did audibly snap in half from time to time. He had to keep an appearance a patient man, someone courteous and polite. It was of great importance to keep that thick layer of ice above the boiling madness that stirred deep within.

Oh, how you tested his patience still. It all kept accumulating, over and over, cracking the ice bit by bit.

He could write a masterpiece of scholarly analysis and a seemingly perfect reconstruction of events, and you would destroy all of that effort simply by telling him he wrote a date wrong, messing up the entire chronology and all further conclusions, rendering the whole thing useless. You always tripped him with the little things, formalities, so many tidbits that made the whole construction fall apart.

The devil was in the details, after all.

Speaking of which, since the majority of your clients were desperate people that had strayed from the morals of society into a life of crime for mere survival, you had earned yourself the title of Devil's Advocate among your colleagues. The world of your clients, however, was quite grateful for your services and assistance, all of them calling you their Fairy Godparent.

You got them out of trouble, you found them alternatives and new respectful jobs, you gave and gave, granting wishes and making them all happily dance to your music. If anyone had issues or needed help, they knew who to come to. You were waiting with good life advice, cupcakes, a hot cup of coffee and assurance that you would solve all of their problems. In many cases, you were the last angel before the gates of Hell for them, grasping their hand and pulling them back to safety.

After all, placing their fate in your hands was a far better alternative than sinking deeper into darkness and one day being inevitably visited in the middle of the night by the Judge of the Damned, having their life taken as the midnight bells rang.

Because of this looming threat, you did your best to save each soul you came across.

In this particular case, it was a young man that had gotten himself in some serious trouble after associating with a dangerous faction of drug dealers. Such business always came with its risks and there was no true loyalty nor help if someone got caught. Moreover, it was common practice to silence the person from revealing the others by simply ordering their assassination in prison. The young man had gotten way in over his head, too ambitious and too confident in his own abilities, intoxicated with the romantic ideas of what he had seen in movies.

His older brothers had approached you for help after his arrest and you had accepted, of course. You would get the boy out of trouble, free of charge, under the condition that he dedicated himself to getting his life back on track and you would be making sure things stayed that way.

Sun was still waiting for you to speak, and the rest of the room was wondering whether or not you were truly speechless this time or if you were simply preparing something spectacular. Of course, it was the latter. You had pulled a lot of strings and cashed in a few favours, but it was all for a good cause. You heard Sun's impatient voice:

“Ready to admit defeat? There is no conceivable way for you to counter any of this evidence, it is over.“

“Only for those that lack the imagination to do so. I call in question the credibility and the competence of your toxicology expert. You cannot claim that my client was in possession or consuming a certain substance, if its chemical components do no even match what you claim it to be.“

“Pure cocaine was found on his person. He has been known to associate himself with dangerous smugglers of forbidden narcotics.“

“A second analysis, that I took the liberty of ordering from another expert, proved that it was mere flour.“

“Excuse me?“

“He is a baker's apprentice. Poor boy, he is just keeping all of that secret out of shame, which is why we did not mention this earlier, by the way. Alas, I cannot keep this silence anymore, for I must act in his best interest. You see, ever since he was a small lad, it was his dream to make fine Danish pastries, but everyone in his general vicinity was obsessed with the whole “dashing gangster“ persona that is so popular right now, so no wonder that this sad young man, just look at his eyes, this poor innocent child tried to emulate all of that simply to get some respect from his cruel peers. So, he walked around with flour and pretended that it was cocaine. It is all because of societal pressure.“

Had Sun been gifted with a detachable jaw, it would have fallen on the floor by now. It was madness. Your claim was pure madness. He wasn't certain, but he did feel as if all of his systems were about to crash down in a sad attempt at self-preservation. Moon's crimson eyes had turned black and he seemed as if he were silently rebooting himself. It was best for everyone to have him unconscious for a bit, otherwise he would have probably gotten violent. The stenographer stopped typing and blinked at you in a very “what the actual hell“ manner and the old judge took his glasses off emphatically as people normally do in such situations for no specific reason other than dramatic effect.

“God, I haven't felt this much excitement since my last divorce.“

The defendant was very much surprised to hear this as well. He gestured for you to come closer and whispered to you:

“I am a baker's apprentice?“

“You are now. Be the role, become the role, make the rolls. Also, you start next Monday at five in the morning, I got everything already arranged with the baker on main street. This whole process should by over by then.“

“What? The only dough I know how to roll is the monetary one.“

“You learn while you live.“

The poor man looked at you with the expression of someone that would really rather just go to prison than go through such blood pressure oscillations.

His brothers, three friendly chaps in dashing suits, homburg hats and leather gloves, were all smiling and holding a thumbs up in encouragement. He turned around to look at them with a genuinely desperate expression. Listening to this nonsense was punishment enough, regardless if he did the crime or not. They had assured him that you were the best, but nobody ever said that your methods were the sanest.

You cleared your throat and spoke up again:

“In light of this and to support these claims, I enclose all the necessary documents and I am prepared to call the relevant new witnesses if you agree, Your Honour.“

“I can adjourn, I personally got no problem with continuing this on a later day of the week. I have to tell you, you kids are keeping me young, I always thought that my later years in life would be boring. Boy, I sure was wrong.“

A partially drunk man from the spectator area began to clap.

“Bravo!“

The bailiff looked over at him.

“What are you clapping for?“

“I thought this was the theatre.“

“It's a courtroom, is what it is.“

“What's the difference?“

Just as you were about to sit down, Moon was suddenly by your side, having miraculously finished his little reboot session and feeling more energized than ever. It was rather concerning, since he was capable of pulling such a stunt within mere seconds, changing location so fast before you could even register it. You had a theory that he was probably capable of some type of flight or teleportation.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you close to his face plate, crimson eyes trying to cut your soul to shreds. Nevertheless, you refused to lose your decorum and you kept up an air of aristocratic disinterest.

“May I help you, sir?“

“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not letting you humiliate us like this again.“

“And you are going to make things better for yourself by intimidating me in public like this? I really want to know what the plan is, I'm curious now.“

“Curiosity will kill you one day, little devil fairy.“

“I am certain that satisfaction will bring me back. What exactly do you want from me?“

He squeezed your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. It was oddly pleasurable, since you were tense and tired. Moon's voice was low, raspy, almost a whisper, akin to that of a nocturnal demon that haunted the shadows and ruled over nightmares.

“What goes around comes around and one day I will humiliate you, as well. I will tear those fairy wings apart.“

“Do you think I am afraid of you?“

“You should be. But, yes, I do have an additional request. Meet us in the conference room as soon as we are done here. We wish to talk.“

For a moment it seemed as if the two of you had forgotten that you were in an oddly compromising embrace in front of the entire courtroom. The same man from the spectator area whispered to the bailiff:

“Is this when the smooching starts? I could have sworn I read it somewhere in the play synopsis.“

“This is not the theatre!“

“Listen, Shakespeare once said that the whole world is a stage. He also said that we should kill all the lawyers, though, but I vote that we keep these three here, I need to know what happens next.“

A normal person would refuse to accept Moon's request after his little outburst, but you wished to talk to him and Sun, as well. Perhaps the old saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer“ had some wisdom to it, but you also genuinely wished to somewhat make peace with them. Maybe even explain your perspective and your ideas of justice to them. If things got really wild, possibly even form some fragile bond of friendship.

“Alright, I will be there, I just need some time to get my things first and I will also fetch a cup of coffee.“

You pushed him away and he allowed you to do so. However, his gaze was still on you even as everyone had risen and prepared to leave for the day. He watched you as you cheerfully talked with your client and his family, so warm, so caring. They gave you presents to show their appreciation, bags full of chocolates, teddy bears and a ridiculously large plush rabbit. Such whimsical things, childish and ridiculous, and yet your eyes almost had sparkles from how happy you were.

You were considered a beauty by many, but you were not coquettish, ignoring any amorous comments with your usual aristocratic disdain. Your hair was long and soft, well taken care of, but there were always a few little disobedient tufts that almost appeared like tiny and cute devil horns. It was impossible to straighten them out and you simply let them be.

You had a penchant for black pinstripe suits. However, the professional sterness was mitigated by the presence of a star-shaped pink diamond brooch pinned to the striped bow on your chest area. Moon found it conveniently suitable for your “fairy godparent“ aesthetic. The diamond would catch even the faintest amounts of light, reflecting it on surrounding walls to signify that you were approaching. You were wondrous, gentle hues of pink always heralding your arrival.

Sun spoke to him as the two of them made their way to the conference room, distracting him from his reveries:

“They are so cold to us and yet so warm to them. Did you see that smile?“

“Our fairy sees value in miscreants and mongrels. It is only a matter of time before those strays bite the hand that feeds them and then the little fool will come crying to us.“

“It would be cruel of us to refuse them a warm embrace, brother.“

Moon pondered the thought, the potential image of you in a disheveled state, disappointed and heartbroken. There was something wonderfully poetic about the idea of your rose garden withering away. It was a fair trade for all the times you kept trying to ruin their own view of the world. He and Sun were the righteous hands of justice and not even you could protect your little army of demons forever, shielding them with your dark angel wings till one day their final feather crumbles to dust. A misguided fallen little seraph had to have limits.

Sun and Moon waited for good while for you to arrive. Getting coffee was serious business, after all.

The windows in the conference room were covered with Venetian blinds, creating a game of light and shadow, giving it an air of mystery and melancholy. However, the moment you entered, your diamond brooch cast little sparkles of warm pink all over the walls.

You were carrying the bags with gifts and also balancing your coffee cup. It was honestly a miracle you did not spill everything yet. You set it all on the large table and for a moment you almost seemed to have forgotten the two animatronics even existed as you were fiddling with the little treats you had received.

“These chocolates are my favourite. It is a shame you two can't eat, you are missing pure heaven. Now, what exactly did you two want to talk about?“

Sun was very straightforward and went right down to business.

“You cheated, lied and manipulated facts today.“

“Me? I can only aspire to be that productive in one single afternoon.“

“Furthermore, you shamelessly tried to avoid the consequences of losing our little bet.“

“Tell me something: are you more upset about the case or the bet? It seems to me as if the latter is tormenting you more than the former.“

“I am not answering that.“

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask like a sensible man, we don't need these convoluted schemes for something that simple.“

“Would you, then?“

“No.“

“See, this is why we need the schemes.“

“Such a tragedy your problems are, Sun.“

You opened another box of chocolates and you were wondering whether to try the one with dark ganache filling or the one with hazelnut cream. You were rudely interrupted when Moon lifted your chin up to look at him.

“You are no longer going to prance around acting as if the justice system is your own personal circus. If we expose what you did today, you will be kicked out of the Lawyers' Association and you will lose your license to practice.“

“That sounds so depressing when you put it that way.“

“I personally can appreciate what you were trying to do for all those people in the past year or so, but enough is enough. We could have offered you a plea bargain, had you only asked us. We are more than happy to settle if those puppies of yours mean that much to you, but they will need to serve time, whether you like it or not.“

“When they get in the system, it's over, it will haunt them and follow them for the rest of their lives, from getting employment all the way to daily life and relationships.“

“None of that is your concern, Y/N. You cannot save everyone.“

“With all due respect, Moon, you have no right to tell me what to do. I do not hate you, but I will not tolerate you being in my way either. Do not be fooled by my kind nature, you have no idea who you are playing with. Dreams can become Nightmares fairly quickly.“

“I am saying all of this because I do not want you to share the same unfortunate fate that keeps repeating itself in your family. Always best friends with the wrong lot. You need to stop fraternizing with criminals, for your own good.“

Moon expected a specific reaction from you with that statement, foolishly assuming that he would hit the right spot, that he would cause fear, pain, uncertainty and a need to run somewhere for some emotional safety. Even Sun knew that he had gone too far with that topic.

You were not having it. Yes, you were a regal and delicate flower. However, that flower was also poisonous and with plenty of thorns. You huffed at him.

“Oh, so we are playing that card now? While we are on the subject of family tradition and dubious practices, I am well aware of the person that gets rid of the truly bad people. Did he ever come for any of my current and recent clients? No. Therefore I don't see why you are so determined to lecture me about helping those that only do crime out of necessity, not evil. If anything, this is just petty revenge because you hate losing and because you are a manipulative jerk with no empathy for the misfortunate, Moon. If you wish to punish someone, start with yourself.“

That certainly did hit a nerve.

Moon went over to the window, pulling the blinds shut and letting the room bathe in darkness, the pink light disappearing. You blinked to adjust your eyes.

“Is this really necessary?

Moon's voice was unusually low, almost a whisper:

"Is darkness not a familiar thing to you, little devil fairy? You certainly seem to linger in the shadows, refusing to see the light, you are blind and unable to grasp reality as it is."

You sighed and shrugged.

"That is still better than believing in blind justice. Also, at least I got the comfort of knowing that Sun over here cannot see anything right now, either.“

The daylight animatronic made a huff at your words.

“I still know the basic layout of the room, thank you very much.“

Sun then leaned over to you and whispered:

“Now, why did you have to tell him all that? He is very touchy on that subject.“

“Well, he started it.“

“And you had to continue it?“

“Yes. I too am allowed to be petty.“

Moon's crimson optics were the only light left and they were getting closer, wicked and menacing. Their glow suddenly disappeared and all that was heard was Moon's malicious cackling. Even with Sun present, you knew you were pretty much screwed and that it was best if you made your merry way in the opposite direction.

An interesting chain of events followed that led to even more interesting consequences. You reached for the nearby bag that had the giant bunny plushie in it, throwing it in the general direction of Moon's laughter, hoping that it would hit him and buy you enough time to run out of the room. However, you miscalculated while waving your hand, accidentally hitting Sun in the face instead. In your defense, you could barely see a damn thing in the dark.

As this happened, Sun stepped backwards out of sheer instinct, bumping right into Moon as he was trying to elegantly sneak up. This caused Moon to lose balance and fall on the floor. As he tried to catch onto the table to pull himself back up, his hand landed directly on the coffee cup and the whole contents spilled over the edge right onto him, ruining his coat, vest and shirt.

Needless to say how much noise you three idiots had made in the process.

You reached for another bag, and you began to swing it around without a care in the world.

“Stay back, both of you, I am armed with plushies and I am not afraid to use them.“

Sun's face kept being caught in the collateral damage, of course. With a swift motion, he managed to catch you and pick you up, placing you on the table and pinning your wrists to it to stop you from further attacking him with such a deadly weapon. Meanwhile, Moon was removing his coffee-stained coat and vest, lamenting how the whole fabric was ruined now.

“This is not how I envisioned this meeting to transpire.“

The whole scene was then interrupted when a clerk opened the door, seeing the two celestial animatronics looming over you while you were lying on the table, Sun holding your wrists and Moon having half his clothes off.

The man blinked a few times, before clapping in joy.

“Oh, my god, finally. I have been placing my bets on the three of you for months. I have to tell the others that they owe me money. They said you three would get together by December, but I was a visionary and I said somewhere in Fall. Ah, passion! Such a fantastic thing. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds, you! I'll tell the group of people that is standing right outside not to disturb you for the next few hours, okay? Okay, take care.“

He closed the door and left, leaving the room in darkness again. A few moments passed and you burst out laughing, unable to control yourself. The situation was absurd and you were starting to love every minute of it.

“I must say, this madness is better than some boring date. We should do it again sometime.“

AO3 Link

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sunflower-emoji · 10 months ago

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Wallflower (Hawks x Reader)

You're shy. Hawks isn't.

(more Hawks fluff <;3)

It didn't matter that people would kill for a job like yours, you were going to quit. It wasn't worth this nightmare called a charity ball you found yourself at.

You were young and far down the hierarchy. You had assumed that the higher-ups would send someone with an established reputation to represent the company.

"No, you'll be perfect. A charming young face is exactly what our brand needs," your boss insisted.

You bit back a scoff. One of the reasons you became a costume designer was so you didn't have to schmooze people. You always loved the world of heroics, knew you wanted to be part of it in some way. But large crowds and larger personalities launched your heart rate skyward. Costume design was perfect: challenging, creative, and just the right amount of human interaction. Sure, you weren’t the most sociable, but you loved working one-on-one with your clients, getting to know them slowly over time and never worrying about going blind from direct exposure to the spotlight.

None of this seemed to matter to your boss, or your colleagues, who refused to take your place even as they sighed with envy. You were beginning to think it was part of a bigger conspiracy to get you to "come out of your shell," and you resented them for it.

Still, you wished one of them were here so you could have someone to talk to. Your charming young face didn't know a single person here.

That wasn't entirely true. You recognized some of your clients, had even tried to talk to one of them, making it through a full thirty seconds of stilted conversation before someone more famous pulled them away. You immediately fled to the periphery of the room where other guests floated past, preoccupied with other things and people.

That was fine, You were really only interested in one person here anyway, and you knew the chances of actually talking to him were nonexistent.

You had caught glimpses of him throughout the night. It was hard not to, his giant red wings a beacon, standing out even more in his all-black ensemble. Never long enough for eye contact, but you held on to the hope of getting a wave or a quick smile at some point tonight.

Hawks was an established client at your company, his costume the creation of your boss's boss. The two of you met a few months ago after you had been assigned to find a new material for his visor. Something sturdier without sacrificing visibility. He visited you regularly to test out the prototypes.

At first you were terrified, unsure how to talk to the loud, gregarious hero. The energetic banter your veteran coworkers had with him wasn't something you could match. But Hawks had surprised you with a patient smile and questions about your work, listening so attentively your passion overtook your shyness. It didn't take long for you to feel at ease with the hero, even if your heart never settled into its normal rhythm when he was around.

But there was a big difference between his visits to your studio and you approaching him in the middle of a giant gala, surrounded by dozens of other heroes and bigwigs. So you leaned against the wall, checking your phone and wondering if it was late enough to leave without getting yelled at later.

"Should've known you'd be over here!" You jump at the sudden visitor, who chuckles at your reaction.

Your heart's still in your throat, but you feel calmer now that Hawks stands in front of you. Something familiar at last.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you seem like the wallflower type," he replies with a head tilt and teasing grin.

"Am not!" You said it as a reflex. Both of you knew very well that you were a wallflower. And you had in fact spent the entire evening against a wall.

Hawks' eyes narrow, deviousness creeping into his smile. "Oh? Well in that case, I guess you won't mind sharing a dance with me."

When you fail to immediately take his outstretched hand, he pouts. "Come on, Endeavor already turned me down. Are you really gonna let me be rejected twice tonight?"

You huff out a “fine,” and he guides you to the dance floor with an eager pull of your hand, his feet not quite touching the ground. To your relief, he stops in a space off-center, his wings partially open as he brings his other hand up to your waist.

The two of you twirl around in what you think is meant to be a waltz. Hawks can't keep a beat but insists on leading anyway, just barely missing your toes. Without warning, he spins you out before snapping you back against his chest and you feel the rumble of his laughter. You're grateful he can't see your reddened face, dizzy from spinning and the scent of his cologne.

By the end of the song, you've gathered enough wits for a little payback. As the music swells for the final time, you slip your hand around to Hawks' back and press your knee forward. His eyebrows raise in delight at your mischievous grin and he lets you dip him, throwing his arm out with a flourish.

There's a smattering of applause, some conversation to your side, but you're not paying attention to any of it, too focused on Hawks beaming up at you.

"Sooo, how about it? Up for another?"

You agree without hesitation this time. It's not like you had anything better to do this evening.

#I hear you ask “kaye how are you supposed to dip hawks with his giant wings in the way”#the answer is carefully dear reader #very carefully #anyway hello i love fancy galas and fancy dancing and being goofy and bad at fancy dancing #You can expect more on this theme #bnha #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #x reader

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brabblesblog · 1 year ago

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Goodnight Moon

No longer one-off fic about what happens whenever you tell Astarion to feed on you tonight.

Or, he said he wouldn’t wake me up, but what if I want to be up?

Read on AO3.

Part 2.

Masterlist.

You’re always awake at night. Too awake. Before, it was because you enjoyed reading books on the bed, taking yourself on adventures that you know you will never have. Reading as the hours slip by, the candle shrinking as the night slowly consumes it.

These days, there’s no books, or candles, or bed. The still unfamiliar sight of open sky above your head is beautiful, if a bit disconcerting. You sigh as you stare at it, trying to find some of the constellations you read in your books. Rubbing your eyes, you sigh and try to stay awake as the boredom slowly slips into drowsiness. You can’t sleep - won’t sleep.

You wait.

An hour passes. Maybe even two. You’ve almost drifted away when you finally hear soft, almost silent footfalls. You open your eyes to see dark crimson ones widening in surprise.

“I’m certain I didn’t make enough noise to wake you up,” he says, in his best stage whisper. He sits next to you and smirks down at you. “Waiting for me? I did tell you I wouldn’t disturb your slumber tonight.”

You rub your eyes, watching him quietly. Why did you even stay awake? You’ve known him for not long, but there was no doubt he had captured your attention the moment you laid eyes on him. He was beautiful, that was objectively true, but what drew you to him was how mysterious he was. Incredibly loquacious, and yet no matter how much he spoke little was revealed about him. He was undoubtedly dangerous, not just because of what he is - how he spoke to your other friends said as much. That deceptive, almost condescending way he spoke to them was what informed you of the danger even before he revealed himself to be a vampire. To you, however, he seemed to be kinder, although you weren’t sure how authentic those flowery words were. You did wish they were true though, just like how you wished him coming over right now was because he actually liked your company and not just your blood.

“Just not sleepy, I guess,” you lie. You and he both know it. He nods, accepting it for now.

“Should I go, then? Wait for dreams to take you before I-“

You grab him by the wrist as he turns to leave. It’s one of the rare moments where you take the initiative and touch him. He doesn’t pull back, just stiffens and turns to face you with an inquisitive look on his face.

“Look. I- I sleep late normally. I liked to read books back in the city,” you stammer out. “Just don’t bother waiting for me to sleep whenever we do this. I’m okay being here for it.”

His expression opens up in confusion for a split second, then he recovers, a smug smile replacing it. “Who would I be to refuse you that, darling,” he murmurs. “Settle down then. I shall make it quick.”

You lie flat down, staring up into the stars again. Truth be told, you hated it when he first bit you. The icy cold, the numbness spreading through your body, the weakness the next day. But you wanted to see him, to feel him so close by, and for at least a few moments see him with his guard down. To be the one to provide him with what he needed. It was odd, you thought, as he slowly hovered over you and began leaning in, how much you craved to be with someone you’ve only began to know. As the tips of his teeth found your neck, you clench your fists together, preparing for the pain.

His eyes flicker down at the movement, seeing it. Bracing. It is then that he realizes that this might not be exactly what you wanted. He’s quite certain you’re attracted to him - the looks you give him and the way you blush when he talks to you are all but screaming it to everyone who can see. But why let him bite you? Why stay awake for it?

The day after he first bit you, he had propositioned you as a way to thank you and to solidify his position in camp. You had agreed, and it had mostly gone quite as he had expected, but you were very oddly perceptive. When you looked at him, it seemed like you saw through what he was doing. You had told him he needn’t do it if it was because he felt like he owed you, and in the morning after you had noticed that he wasn’t completely there. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of all this yet, but he figured there might be a way to appease you for now. His hand moves to your clenched knuckle, soothing it. He fought back the urge to bite and replaced the fangs with lips, placing a soft kiss on your neck.

“Is this what you wanted, my sweet? You could have just said so,” he whispered.

“No,” you say, although your entire body screamed yes. “I really just don’t mind being awake for it. Can you just get on with it?” You want it, so, so much, but something about that first night did not feel right. You’re almost sure it was transactional, the way he offered to bed you after you fed him; the way he turned cold after the deed was done. He probably thinks of you merely as someone who could give him what he wanted. That was painful, but fine. You were willing to accept whatever small dregs of affection he was doling out.

He stiffens almost imperceptibly at your words, mind working away at this new information. Nothing in exchange for this feeding? Odd. He knew you were attracted to him, hells, your pulse thrumming against his lips told him all he needed to know - but refusing sex was totally foreign. He blinked twice, regained his composure and then said, “Well- well then by all means. I shall, as promised, be quick. You won’t feel it.”

As fast as he could, he bites down and takes his first gulp of blood. His eyes blow out, the red becoming bright. The warm blood rushing through his mouth is almost overwhelmingly wonderful, until the hand still on yours feels your hand ball into a tight fist. Pain. He closes his eyes as he feeds from your essence and tries to ignore the knot in his chest from that realization, telling himself that you allowed him to do this, wanted him to feed so he could be strong and fight. And probably because you were under his spell. The thought doesn’t give much comfort to him.

You raise your hand and quietly pick out a few pieces of dirt from his curls, trying to distract yourself from the cold seeping through your body. You can feel his body getting warmer as he takes your blood, no longer radiating an icy coolness where he and you are in contact. This wasn’t what you would ideally wish for, but it was enough. You sigh softly as your hands work at cleaning his hair, wishing things were different. How ironic it is to finally be in your own adventure, but have it turn out to be like this. In the books, romance was always uncomplicated. The prince was always a prince who loved the princess truly.

The soft, sad sigh broke through his bloodlust. He had noticed you picking at his hair, and though he wondered, the taste of your blood was more than enough to keep him from thinking about it too much. That sound though, intensified that knot in his chest and he finally pulled away, licking off the last of the blood. Reluctantly he sat up, looking at your face with an expression that couldn’t be easily read.

“As much as that was fun,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, “I best be off. Catch myself some critters and fill myself up that way. Don’t be jealous, darling, they won’t taste anywhere as good as-,” he purred, but his sentence died in his throat as you flapped a tired hand at him.

“Go, Astarion. Be safe. Good night,” you mumbled tiredly, giving his hand one quick squeeze before turning away from him and curling up, trying to regain warmth.

Without anyone watching him, his mask slipped, revealing guilt and a big wave of fondness for you, which also caught him by surprise. Stamping it down, he took one last look at your form, silently wishing you a good night’s rest, then turned to leave for the forest. His hands carefully felt at his curls where you touched them, realizing the matted blood and dirt there was gone.

He hunted all night and fed as much as he could, but his hand would always inadvertently find its way back to those curls whenever his thoughts lapsed back to your tent.

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x mc #bg3 #pale elf #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion fic #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav

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lady-fey · 2 years ago

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The Two Types of Redemption

Aka, why Avatar’s story works when so many others don’t.

There are two main paths to redemption: a shift in perspective and a shift in personality. The first is quite common and works very well for a character arc. The second is incredibly rare and should only be used if you’re going to heavily focus on it. Unfortunately, the ‘personality shift’ path seems to be the go-to and, while there is absolutely nothing wrong with this type of story, it requires a ton of work to make it feel earned. Work that is often hand waved away.

To start, let’s define these paths.

A shift in perspective: your character is already a fundamentally ‘good’ person. They just have a messed up view of the world, likely due to their upbringing. During the story, their world view will be challenged, forcing them to realize that they’re on the ‘wrong’ side. The classic example of this is someone raised bigoted and then going to college or moving to a city and turning out accepting after being exposed to people of other races, sexualities, and so on.

A shift in personality: there is something fundamentally wrong with your character. The reasons for this are many and I’m not going to list them out, but they probably know that their behavior is unacceptable. They probably don’t think of themselves as being on the ‘right’ side or, if they do, it’s because they refuse to consider another perspective. During the story, they will have to do an incredible amount of work on themselves to try and completely change the way their brain is wired. The classic example of this is someone who goes through years and years of therapy.

Now I’m gonna talk about Zuko and Azula from Avatar because they’re extremely well-known characters, so most people on this site can read this without getting spoiled like they might with a lesser known property.

The reason why Zuko from Avatar has such a compelling story is that he’s a case of redemption through a shift in perspective. His personality doesn’t actually change. When we flash back to who he was as a child, it’s the same person that he ends up being as an adult. A loving, kind, honor-driven man who wants to be on the ‘right’ side. His only flaw is that he’s been raised in the Fire Nation, which means that his head is full of lies. Once he’s forced to interact with people on the other side of the war, he realizes that they’re not what he’s been told. This rocks him to his core and he struggles with it, but ultimately ends up giving up everything to be true to himself. To fight for honor.

His sister, Azula, never gets redeemed, but imagine if we put her in Zuko’s place and tried to tell the same story. It wouldn’t work because Azula delights in hurting others, something Zuko viewed as an unfortunate necessity of war. She views ruling as a way to gain power while Zuko views it as a burden taken on from duty to his people. To redeem Azula, you can’t just pop her in the Earth kingdom and make her see things from the other side. She actually does that and all that she sees is a great way to spy! Her redemption cannot be a passive one like Zuko’s was. It has to be an active focus of the story and would need her to want to seek help or have it forced on her.

Of course, there is a spectrum here, but the general principle that you can't lump all redemption stories together is an idea that often goes undiscussed, leading to characters like Azula getting treated like Zuko and it bothers me so you get a tumblr post about it!

As always, feel free to send me asks!

#writing advice #character development #character arcs #redemption arc #avatar the last airbender

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tetsunabouquet · 11 months ago

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When Eyes Meet- Kise Ryota

A/N: Alright, someone actually expressed interest in having this one-shot series finished but I have not received an answer yet when I asked if they had a preference for the next guy so I'm picking Kise! The specific soulmate concept comes from ElfQuest, in case this is actually the first time you came across this series :) Aomine - Murasakibara - Kagami - Kuroko - Akashi - Midorima

As long as mankind had existed, everyone had a second name. The name of their soul. It was a well-guarded secret one might only share with their family and friends as close as blood. However, there was a special instance that exposed one soul name to another, called Recognition. This occured when two people locked eyes with each other and somehow they would know the other's soul name. This is what society calls 'the moment you knew you found your soulmate'. There seemed to be no pattern or rules about how the concept worked. Some people did the moment they met someone, but others would Recognize someone they had known all their lives. Recognition just happened. But one thing was for sure, Recognized couples seemed to have the true love out of a fairy tale. It was something that seemed to evade you. You chalked it up to boys being too intimidated or focused on your beauty to actually properly see you. You were the prettiest girl at Kaijo and used to be a model when you were younger. You hated the toxic fashion industry though and quit during middle school. It wasn't all that bad though, as through modelling you met your best friend, Kise Ryota. In a sea of boys either too intimidated or horny, he seemed to be the only guy who treated you normally. A breath of fresh air. He always listened and understood, even when it were very girly topics like how your middle school classmate, Hitachin Kiki, had made your life a living hell because she was envious of you being prettier then her. It was because of him, that you attended Kaijo anyways. You liked attending school with your best friend, but currently, you were annoyed at the fangirls who just didn't seem to learn. They were squealing around his table, all having a bento box prepared for him. You sighed in irritation as you neared his table, your own bento box in hand. "Ryota, shall we eat lunch together? You don't want to believe what Momoi told me the other day." As his friend, Kise allowed you to call him by his first name and had introduced you to the GOM before. Because you and Momoi were stuck in a pretty similar boat, you had quickly gotten along. The girls all glared at you as Kise stood up with the bento box one of his sisters had prepared for him, neither in need of their bento boxes or wanting to try out their cooking. Kise didn't cared for them at all, and often, the two of you would secretly giggle about them behind their backs. It might be a little cruel, but they made it hard. Their dislike of you didn't earn any sympathy either. As the two of you strode off to your favorite spot on campus, Kise seeming a little extra quiet today. "OI! What's got you down in the dumps? Where's my ray of sunshine?" You teased him lightly, grinning. Kise refused to look at you, which got you to halt him dead in his tracks with our hands on your hips. "Kise Ryota, spill it!" He sighed. "I just feel guilty every now and then." You frowned, confused. "About what?" "You. I know you're into music and that Kaijo has a terrible music program. I just feel like you could be thriving as I am at basketball if you were in a school with a better program and I know I am the only reason why you are here in the first place." You blinked, feeling touched but you didn't like that look on his face. "Ryota," you said tenderly, "Success matters nothing to me if it means I have to stay away from the place where I've been treated with kindness I've never know before. I know you have respected me from the very beginning and that means so much to me." "Of course I have. Do you know how much I admire you from daring to quit modelling? You could have used your modelling connections to become an idol yet you choose freedom. I have never seen someone so wise as you, other then Kurokocchi." You chuckled at that and as you looked fondly into one another's eyes, it happened. "Fohn?" Kise asked as he looked at you, and you felt the shivers down your back as he spoke your soul name. "Yes, Gyl?" You asked, giggling out of the delightul shock, something he silenced as he kissed you. It was as magical indeed.

#knb #kuroko's basketball #knb x reader #kise ryouta #kise ryota x reader #kise ryōta #recognition #momoi #modelling #friends to lovers

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kny-agere · 5 months ago

Note

Hii! Me again ^^' as you might have guessed by now, I have another request for my boys! ( Cg Douma & Little Akaza!)

Akaza has a meeting with douma discussing an upcoming mission with him, they were both drinking Sake but akaza starts to get fidgety so douma thinks he's actually feeling small, so he takes the initiative and takes away the sake from Akaza telling him he's too small for that and goes to get him a sippy cup instead, and Akaza gets SO fussy! He insists he's big and refuses to drink out of it, but eventually he can't put off his headspace any longer with Douma's babying and finally slips :]

As always 0 pressure to do this! And take all the time you need to finish this ^^ I always enjoy your fics so will be happy either way!! Keep up the amazing work!!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

I hope there aren’t any spelling mistakes but I’m too eepy to notice if there are

★彡☆彡★彡

“Are you sure you want another cup?” It was only Akaza’s third that night, and it was the second time Douma had asked the question. There was something in the man’s voice that made the pink haired demon squirm. He probably just wanted to fight the annoying blond.

“I can hold my alcohol just as well as you.” That part was not true at all. Akaza was already slightly flushed and drank only when extended an offer (which was not often). Douma consumed alcohol like water and was unaffected despite being on his fifth glass. Despite the difference in the two demons the blond still nodded and poured Akaza’s glass full once more.

As if to prove himself the man downed this serving much faster than he had the last two. Akaza sat his glass back down after only a few seconds and looked towards Douma expectantly.

“Oh that was very fast!” Douma used the compliment as a distraction, pointedly capping the bottle of sake. “Though you only really get the taste if you drink slowly. I forget what’s in this bottle but ah, I’m sure it’s lots of good things.” He had an extensive collection of wine and beer and sake. So extensive Douma often forgot what the bottles even were.

“Then pour me another.” There was a strange glint in Akaza’s eyes. It was the look the boy often got right before he threw something at Douma or burst into a tantrum.

The blond hesitated and did not reach for the bottle. “Oh we can stop here. I don’t want to use up the glass quite yet.” It wasn’t technically a lie so the words slipped through his lips easily. He even managed a genuine smile.

“One more sip won’t use up the rest.” Akaza reached across the table. Douma was quick to intercept the action and tucked the bottle by his legs. He kept his wide smile, which seems to piss Akaza off more.

With a grunt suddenly the upper moon is flying towards him. Douma is quick enough to dodge the attack but unfortunately the bottle of sake is not spared. As Akaza crashes into the floor the glass smashes and alcohol soaks into the man’s pants. He pauses now and looks at the mess on the floor.

Upper moon two moves slowly, as if he’s approaching a wild animal. Akaza keeps his eyes focused on the ground. His hands are balled into fists, tight enough that he shakes.

“Are you mad?” Douma crouches down in front of the boy just a foot or two away. He tries not to let his tone grow to teasing or childish.

Akaza does not answer, instead keeping his jaw clenched tightly. When the blond inches closer he turns his face away. Eventually after a few minutes he softens slightly. “I’m not mad.” He fails to hide any of his anger.

“I can get out another bottle.” It’s probably not a very good idea but Douma tends to be rather indulgent. And he enjoys showing off his gifts and collections.

There is no answer again, and this time even after a few minutes the boy doesn’t seem inclined to respond.

Douma hesitates to announce his actions. Right now Akaza will probably fight against any kind of coddling. If he makes his intents known then the demon will hide himself away somewhere. Though even if Douma doesn’t voice anything Akaza will be spooked.

In the end he braces himself and puts a hand on Akaza’s shoulder. He flinches, eyes darting around the room, but does not attack.

“How about we get you changed?” The smell of alcohol is strong, it’s soaked into his clothes.

“D-don’t talk to me like that.” Akaza pushes the words out through gritted teeth.

Douma runs a hand through soft pink hair. When his arm isn’t immediately sliced off he takes it as a sign to continue. “We’ll do a bath too, both of us so it’s fair that way.”

“I don’t need one.” The upper moon sounds more pouty than angry now. He leans backwards just slightly into Douma’s hold.

The blond has to hold back a laugh. “Well I need one then! And you’ll still help me out won’t you?”

“No, you’re trying to trick me and I’m not stupid.” Akaza squirmed as Douma picked him up, but only until he was facing the blond. With a forced frown on his lips Akaza rested his head on a convenient shoulder.

“I’ll have to think of another trick before we get back to my room then.” Douma fully welcomes the groan he receives.

#age regression #sfw agere #fandom agere #age regressor #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny akaza #little!akaza #cg!douma #kny douma

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shadow-ren · 2 years ago

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Obey Me Nightbringer - Theory

Obey Me Nightbringer! Spoilers and Thoughts undercut

It is kind of long and rambly.

I was in the middle of going through Lesson 11 and 12 thoughts, but nope, our devs decided to drop Lesson 13 instead and leave it on a cliffhanger, like usual.

The first thing is damn you Barbatos. You know what the hell is going on and you refuse to tell us because you need us to do our own thing. I need to say that before I go on. I love him, but I wanna make him eat Solomon's cooking right now.

That screenshot is just one of those several times where he gets very quiet, knowingly quiet. I've said it before and I'm pretty sure that Barbatos is Nightbringer. Everything is just pointing to Barbatos being Nightbringer and if it is not him, then it is a demon we have yet to meet.

I have many thoughts and theories of what is happening and what is going to happen. I'll try to simplify them, but one is that Nightbringer did not bring us down there with malicious intent. They truly wanted us to be happy as they said,

The main thing that I can think of, it is just a theory, but I believe this is the beginning of our story. What we have gathered from hints and tidbits is that Nightbringer can see the future, and past and is very powerful which is why it makes sense to be Barbatos. It gives them the ability to see what will or could happen. I don't believe there was a time when it specifically said that it was a concrete thing. The future will be based on our choices. We are a wildcard that has great power.

Diavolo compared our power to the level of a grimoire, that book that makes a demon obey you without a pact. That high-level magic. We are always told we are powerful, but we truly frightened Lucifer when we got that grimoire. All the more impact it made when we gave him the book instead of using it. A choice that Solomon didn't realize we would do. We are always surprising the others to no end which is amusing, but again, we are a true wildcard. I am getting kind of sidetracked. Back to my point, our power gives us the ability to choose. We were told our choices would make an impact in this game and I believe others have stated it as well- we can choose how the future will change. It is a running theme of just how unhinged we are, of how our choices keep shocking those around us, time and time again.

So why am I bringing all that up? Simple, we are at the center just like Solomon was before. Being forced to pick a side- one of 3: Celestial Realm, Devildom, or the Human World. Solomon picked. We know what he picked, but Solomon also didn't have any real attachments to the up or down. We do.

We've made friends with angels, demons, and even a neutral party. We have a connection with all three worlds, strong connections and we could go anyway which is very dangerous. Our connections made a new thing called 'The Ring' that make chaos in all three worlds. It was so powerful and unstable that it could've killed us and everyone if it wasn't severed or we got to stabilize it with the ring of light. We are powerful and are a threat. That is why Diavolo tried to send us back to the human world(which wouldn't work anyway) and why the mystery voice decided to warn us.

Who do I think this is? Simple, Michael. It makes the most sense. Let's talk about Michael aka the Sugar Jellyfish for a second. He is a very interesting character to me. We have yet to actually physically meet him in-game, but he sure does know a lot about us. It is quite possible he heard everything from Luke and Simeon after all, but Raphael tells us that he learned a lot of MC from Michael.

Michael is such a strange existence for me. He is a powerful being like Diavolo and of course, Lucifer. He is Diavolo's counterpart at this point more than likely since they are the de-facto rules of their respective realms. He shares a similar personality to Lucifer - they were like "twins" as Satan has put it. He was known to talk to out and not use violence as that was Lucifer's goto.

"Michael is calm, yet stern, when he is angry. He prefers to talk rather than use physical discipline, in contrast with Lucifer." - Obey Me Wiki (Michael). That is a great way to put it, but he wasn't above physical discipline.

Now, what about that sentence about the Celestial Realm being less tolerable regarding our behavior? That could be from the original game. We were getting very close to the Devildom. It is shifting the power too much for the CR's liking.

Barbatos said it all in the first game. After all, this is a continuation of the first game. When you finish lesson 80 the door will instruct you to go to Nightbringer to continue the story. When we were in the coma, the voice brought up the fact that they saved us before.

In the first game, there are only 2 separate events that the voice could be referring to. The event when we received the ring of light(38-17) OR when we got sent back in time in a dream from eating Solomon's cooking(44-18). I believe they are referring to when we were sent in the past. The Ring of Light saved us, not the voice in the ring event, but the voice did send us back to our own time from the food event. They also have the same tone.

Plus time wise- it makes sense. We were sent back when the brothers were still angels. So this event of us promising and falling under the curse technically happened after this. It makes more sense for the voice to refer to that than the Ring of Light event. If this is Michael, it makes sense he is still on edge. The war just ended, and the wound is still fresh. Time hasn't passed enough that he has come to regret his actions because he does. He has thoughts of what ifs and could haves. Luke tells us this about Michael looking at where the brothers' pictures used to be, about he's always asking about them, he kept so much stuff of Lucifers. He loved the brothers and misses them.

So if go by that, the event the voice has to be referring to is during Lesson 8 when we helped Adam. We opened the gate. We weren't supposed to open the gate. No one should be able to do that, yet we did. We did the impossible. We did it to help Adam. It wasn't meant to be a threat, but the CR sure saw it like that.

After all, no one knows us. We are in the past before we could make the friends we already have. We only have Solomon. The brothers and others aren't the ones we know. While Barbatos (probably) knows, he can't say anything. He has to let us do our own thing.

Nightbringer = Barbatos

New/ Old voice = Michael

I'm sure they are the same people that were talking to Solomon (10-A).

So again, I don't think Nightbringer brought us there with malicious intent. I think they brought us there for a reason- that reason is for us to be happy. And how are we happy?

We are happy where we were, with our friends that we made from all 3 worlds. The only way to have that is to get the ball rolling to where the story we know of will begin. When we are summoned to a certain council room as the new human exchange student.

So I think this is the beginning of our story and to start that, we have to make the world stable enough for us to be brought down in the first place.

There are still holes in this theory and will change as the lessons are released I'm sure since Candy(Thirteen's sister) might play a part in this since she keeps getting mentioned. There are bits that refer to Nightbringer as a demon and not a demon, but honestly, I think that is just meant to confuse the reader. Plus I like the fact that when Nightbrigher talks, the background is dark like the devildom, but when the other voice talks, we get light like the CR and when we were in the curse, first we spoke to NB then the other voice before we woke up. The reflection of the two is amusing to me.

#ren is rambling again #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer theory #obey me #obey me theory #obey me spoilers #obey me nightbringer spoilers #this was a lot #my brain wont turn off #why am i so obsessed suddenly #let me marry solomon #satan is my fave tho #but solomon is best for my mc #she does all the cooking tho

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dawndelion-winery · 1 year ago

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Of Contracts and Vows

Contract Marriage AU - [6]

Childe × GN! Reader

You choked on your beverage. Even for a joke, it was rather...uncalled for. No, that wasn't quite the term for it...it was simply strange. You found yourself second guessing your ears; there was no way he actually said something that absurd and kept that innocent smile on his face without so much as a tint of pink in his fair cheeks.

It was especially hard to believe he'd said that when the rest of your meal carried on as though you'd always been by his side as his most trusted advisor. Indeed, perhaps the only indicator that it had happened was the way he held his hand out for you to help you into his carriage, insisting there was more to discuss with you in the comfort and privacy of his study.

"The estate's changed a little since you left - nothing major, of course, just some redecorating. Of course, if you've a better eye for aesthetics, I wouldn't be opposed to making a few more changes should you propose it."

"Ajax, I doubt my aesthetic taste matters when I most likely won't be working for you once I get married-"

"Well, obviously." His tone sounds so offhanded, so unbothered that you wondered if he'd actually heard you. You raised an eyebrow at your old friend. His grin got cheekier as he continued. "You'll be working with me once we're married, naturally."

Your tongue caught in your throat. Marry him?? Had he hit his head somewhere? Even disregarding social status, you were certain many had their eyes on him for the marriage market. He knew this. You knew he knew this; he wouldn't manage being duke otherwise, if he couldn't even tell such details for himself. And if nothing else, there was a cold, calculating gleam in his eyes that you'd never known him to have. The man before you was without a doubt Ajax, and still he wasn't.

"It's an offer you can't refuse, logically. Any richer and you'd have to court the prince himself - or his father, if that's your preference. But I've heard it's more trouble than it's worth, so what's keeping you from settling for me?"

His grin is still warm, merely less so. It was mixed with a sort of pressuring gaze that urged you to agree and sign as he led you into his study, a contract so conveniently laid out on the table before you, pen at the side already uncapped. "Think about it, at least most of your worries could be solved if you'd just agree," Ajax murmured, his tone taking a sombre turn.

The contract's contents were ridiculous. You'd never seen such a bias towards a single party in terms of favourability. You'd be allowed to wield authority equivalent to the duke's? You'd have unrestricted access to his wealth? It seemed too good to be true.

"Naturally," you began, having read through the contract. "I take it I'm too overlook any and all affairs should you have them? And this is how you'll buy my cooperation?" You'd long since given up on understanding his motivations for marrying you. If he was insistent, perhaps he really was just short of an advisor as insightful as you were. You shrugged and bird as you picked up the pen to sign, but for the first time in your exchange, he seemed truly dissatisfied with you as he held your wrist to stop you.

"I forgot to add something," heumbled as he took the pen from you to scribble a clause.

[Should Lord Tartaglia pursue anyone that isn't y/n throughout the marriage, he is to surrender half of his wealth and property to y/n. In the reverse scenario, the contracted marriage period is to be extended by five years, during which y/n is forbidden from requesting a divorce.]

"You can't be serious," you thought aloud. Yet he was. And there was no doubt of it when you saw his expression. You truly didn't understand his motivations; you doubted you ever would. But given the situation you'd found yourself in, you figured you'd have ample time to uncover that and more. So you picked up the pen, your gaze trailing from the lovesick duke to the fine parchment on the desk as the nib met the paper, inking in your agreement.

Just what was he planning...

Taglist [ @yinyinggie @ayatoforlife @eowinthetraveler @tartaglia-apologist @who-is-saylynn @theblueblub @stcrfeesh @boundedbyfate ]

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe #tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #winery specials #astronetwrk

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ultraericthered · 5 months ago

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One Villainous Scene: Looking Low For Answers

Today marks a very special date....the Cotton Drifitng (WatanagashI) Festival, held in Hinamizawa village on the third Sunday of June of course! I mean, what else could you have thought I meant? And so this scene comes from the horror-mystery classic, When They Cry: Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni. The video and this post contain huge spoilers for Higurashi, so if you've interest in experiencing it for yourself but don't want to get spoiled, pay this no attention!

Due to the effects of a swampland virus known as Hinamizawa Syndrome, believed by the superstitious villagers to be effects of the demon god Lord Oyashiro's curse on the village and an awakening of the "demon blood" inside all of them, many characters in the setting find themselves playing the villain in different stories of the differing world fragments of this series. But I don't think any could play the villain quite as well as Shion Sonozaki, identical twin sister of Mion Sonozaki who does so as both the antagonist of the second arc, the Cotton Drifting Chapter, and the protagonist of the fifth arc, the Eye Opening Chapter. In the latter, we are shown things from Shion's point of view and follow her descent into becoming the malicious murderer we saw in the former, and what's interesting is that this story is written so that we're not only on Shion's side as she acts to follow her suspicions about the village-wide conspiracy that might've taken her beloved Satoshi Houjo away from her, but because we have been made to have such a deep understanding of her character and have as limited information as she does, we're invited to approve of the methods she takes in taking down the supposed perpetrators. Violent, deceptive, and even cruel as she might get, to her and to us it's just paying evil unto evil. She is doing what she has to do here.

So then this scene is where you can mark the shift from justified antihero to true villain beginning to manifest. Shion has abducted village elder Kimiyoshi, leader of the Kimiyoshi Family, and has him down in the Sonozaki Family torture chamber for interrogation. She has a chain around his neck and tells him that for each of her questions that he gives an honest answer to, she'll lower the chain an inch so that he can breathe easier. But if he refuses to comply with her, she'd raise the chain an inch higher and risk total strangulation. To Kimiyoshi's great credit, because he and Shion have had a friendly relationship in the past, he remains reasonably calm and does not try to bullshit Shion on anything - he answers her questions with total sincerity. And then it turns into the most...bizarrely civilized torture and interrogation sequence as Shion goes over and crouches down right in front of Kimiyoshi for some direct eye contact and the two of them begin discussing and even theorizing about who killed Tamae Houjo, what involvement did the Great Families have in the killing and the cover-up, when and where was Satoshi spirited away, and did the Sonozaki Family have anything to do with it like they might've with the abduction of the Dam Construction Minister's grandson. The best part comes from Shion going "oooooooooo, how SCARY!" in a hilariously melodramatic, mocking way to compound the levity.

But the dark turn comes when Kimiyoshi makes Shion realize that the victims who've been "spirited away" always end up having their bodies dumped deep into the well that's on Sonozaki property, and the chasm that leads to it is right there in the underground chamber. When Shion investigates with a flashlight, she in vain calls out to Satoshi, as though he'd be down there alive rather than a corpse. And then she begins to hallucinate Satoshi actually being there, actually responding to her and telling her that she's finally found him. Because this is not actually a real person who's really present, the Satoshi in Shion's mind tells Shion what she knows in her heart the real Satoshi would tell her when she starts to cry and apologize; that nothing was her fault, as she'd not done anything wrong that led to the conditions and circumstances that took his life from him, so there's no need to apologize. Shion then proclaims she intends to jump down the pit to join him. "I'll jump, Satoshi! All you need to do is be there to catch me!" But deep down Shion knows this would be suicide, so the Satoshi in her mind tells her to instead move on from him and live her life well, in pursuit of some other happiness. To live for the future rather than continue pursuing justice and vengeance for the past (some early Ange Ushiromiya vibes there!). But to Shion, there exists nothing for her that's worth living for. She's set out to take down this conspiracy not out of a desire to right any wrongs, protect any future victims from meeting Satoshi's fate, or even to attain justice for him and personal gratification in avenging all that she'd been through - she's doing it out of the delusion that once it's all over, the hole in her heart made by Satoshi's disappearance will at last be filled and she can be together with Satoshi again one way or another, in one world or the other. Common sense and the genuine love for Satoshi she still harbors deep in her heart tells her this is wrong and should not be done, but all of her pent up resentment of her family, her hatred and rage, her envy, and her distorted, idealized vision of Satoshi as her perfect sturdy rock to cling to for love and security, magnified by the worsening Hinamizawa Syndrome, conflicts with it and drives her ever forward in criminal actions, further into darkness and madness.

When she returns to the cell she's holding her twin sister Mion captive, rather than seeing Mion's sincerest regret and setting her free with acknowledgment of how she couldn't have possibly had played any direct part in what happened to Satoshi, Shion's mind continues to cast Mion as a nefarious co-conspirator who held more power than she ever truly did and had to have known more than she actually does, to the point where she blames her for not speaking up and using her position to ensure Satoshi was spared from Oyashiro's Curse that she believes her family plus the Furude and Kimiyoshi households arrange to befall on people. She is overcome with rage, becoming violently emotional, unstable, and descending into pure raving, screaming lunacy right in front of her frightened sister. After this mental meltdown, from that point on, Shion's darker nature worsens and slips through more and more, transforming her into a much worse person willing to do much worse things not out of any truly just cause, but because she wants to overcome and overtake the "curse" that her family and the other two great families have commanded for years (or so she thinks) in order to weaponize it against anyone in the village with whom she's ever had grievances, with her being the one to decide their fates. She's unable to stop, not until she becomes a true demon and all intended victims lay dead.

Side note: I’m an unapologetic enjoyer of the Studio Deen anime adaptation despite the cut corners and shoddy animation at points, and I think it sucks that its English dub wasn’t successful enough to cover beyond the first season, especially since Megan Hollingshead killed it as both Mion and Shion. Michelle Rojas is a great voice actress, but she just wasn’t really right for the roles in the Gou/Sotsu dub, especially in comparison. Megan was the one OG dub VA who was just irreplaceable.

#One Villainous Scene #When They Cry #Higurashi #higurashi no naku koro ni #spoilers #Shion Sonozaki

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fortrivmph · 8 months ago

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❓ + would you have come back to my mother if you knew about me sooner.

SEND ❓+ A QUESTION AND MY MUSE HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO ANSWER TRUTHFULLY

The way his face immediately creased with stress was rather telling. It was a question he kept returning to, no matter how many times he told himself he wouldn't, that it was over and done with, the door shut, the bridge quite literally burnt. His fingers rubbed together in that telltale sign of an explosion to come. Nervousness first, always; how quickly it progressed to anger varied, but that it should progress was inevitable. It was already sparking behind his eyes as denial rode a wave of stomach acid up his throat, stopping just short of his mouth.

Again, the vision came to him, dousing his fire in freezing water: Tiio, her back turned, her braids pulled over her shoulders to reveal her neck, her hands on her stomach. Should he have known? Could he have known? Was that why she had been so angry? Oh, she would have been furious either way, and only in hindsight did he understand how it must have looked -- he, newly-arrived in the colonies, playing the role of saviour to gain her trust, to gain access to her land and her body. That wasn't how it had gone, but still, the narrative hovered over the time they'd shared like a shroud, refusing to be ignored. With that in mind, had the pregnancy frightened her? Had she thought that he would reject their mixed child? Or had she worried that he would drag him into the mess that was the Order?

Would he have? Another question with no answer. He cast his mind back twenty years and saw only the sharp precipice that was Reginald's betrayal, and the void that had followed. He'd been so numb, then, going through the motions, fighting and failing to keep the Rite from a senseless war. When his faith in the cause had been at its weakest, he had turned to look at the Brotherhood, and they had shown him the worst of them. If ever he'd thought to convert and 'redeem' himself, such hopes had died with Haiti and Lisbon. Given the choice between calculated treachery and chaos, he'd gone with what he could reliably predict, and perhaps change. Even so... two decades after his passions had cooled, he still had no real interest in converting Connor, when doing so might have saved his dying Rite. If that was true now, he doubted he would have done it then.

He set a hand to his forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. All of this was relevant, but none of it was what Connor had actually asked. Honestly? He didn't want to know the answer. He didn't want his son to know the answer. He was being made to hold a mirror up to his soul; having never liked what he'd seen before, he was flinching preemptively. You are deformed, and you are ugly. Connor didn't understand the degree to which his father was ruined. He looked at him with cautious hope, and it made Haytham ill, because he knew he had nothing to offer. He'd been scooped clean of any and all redeeming qualities, save his sword and his political intellect. He was the house at Queen Anne's Square: a burnt shell, God having reached down and smashed His fist directly through Haytham's ribs. And Connor wanted to know if he would have turned back to be a father.

"I can't say." He bit his lip for a split second before catching it and stopping. A nasty habit, Haytham. We're going to break it. And what else, he wanted to scream. And what else? Instead, he said, "It was her desire that I stay away. I don't know that she would have let me see you, or that I would have pressed her on it, come to that." He certainly would have felt the tug, as he did now, but he wasn't sure it would have made much of a difference. Fighting her for the right to see his son... the thought turned his stomach. He had always sought to do as she asked, as recompense for his lie, but weighed against knowing his child? He shut his eyes and leaned against the wall for support. "...I would have gone to speak with her," he murmured. "That, I would have done."

#forlibcrty #᛭ verse: forged from treachery ( canon. )#|| sorry this got long his blood pressure skyrocketed.

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ladysophiebeckett · 1 year ago

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So, what do you think would have happened if Betty had indeed ended things with Armando? Outside of El Meson de San Diego, he tells her: We're through then, is that it? If she had said yes, would Armando have respected her choice? Would he try to convince her to give him another chance? Request a definite explanation as to why she had changed so much and ended things? Or maybe be would've accepted it? This is one possibility that he gave her, but I don't think he was prepared for the worst tbh it's also interesting that Betty didn't choose to end it right there and then because for her it was already over, right? I'm curious to know since when you think she buried the relationship.

It's also interesting that Armando didn't choose to end things at Mario's place. It just hit me while reading your comments that Betty intended on ending things that night at his apartment (she had also tried to end it before and urged Armando to mend his relationship with Marcela instead), I never saw it like that before, but now I'm seeing this scene on a different perspective. This was the perfect escape for Armando tbh he never would have known about her first time which only made him feel even worse, and their second night wouldn't have happened which had a huge impact on him. The fact that he never even looks at another woman after this night is actually insane, the hold it had on him? Their first night also meant a lot to him, but he continued to be a flirt and the way he behaved with Adriana Arboleda and treated Betty indicated he hadn't changed that much. After their second night, he only got kinda flirty with the models the day he hits Nicolás outside Inesita's house, but other than that it was obvious that he was crazy over Betty. He was also over the top flirty with Alejandra, but I always saw it as a move to make Betty jealous and show her that he wasn't indifferent to this beautiful woman and neither was she. When he rejected her advances afterwards, that was the definitive proof that he had changed for good.

As always, reading your comments is such a delight. Sorry for the long ask.

dont apologize for the long ask. you've given me a lot think about.

lets go fm the top--if betty had tried to break up with him at el meson, would he have accepted it? no. he would have demanded an explanation bc fm his end, in his mind, he hasn't done anything wrong. i dont think betty would be able to give him an explanation that doesn't give her away and we know she doesn't intend to tell him that she knows the truth. so even if she did try to end things, no he wouldn't have accepted it.

let's revisit what actually happens in canon--they have a huge fight outside the restaurant. he accuses her of having a thing with nicolas, which she does not take well. she throws in his face his treatment of her, how he didnt want to be seen with her and he says that that's not true. he tries to kiss her and she rejects him and then he calls her out on it-- 'me tento todo el tiempo alla en ese sitio si? a que la besara, a que la acariciara. y ahora no quiere que la bese? pero yo si quiero besarla. me muero, me muero por besarla'

--in his mind betty's sending mixed signals. and when she finally gives in to his kiss, to him its confirmation that she still wants to be with him. but her verbal rejection of him, he doesn't understand it. and he kind of refuses to look deeper bc the next day he's like 'i need to know if that kiss means that we're gonna continue on as we always have been'. even the card he writes doesn't quite acknowledge what really happened that night; he says it was a beautiful night because he got to kiss her again but doesn't understand why she left him. no acknowledgment about why they fought or how he treated her for the majority of the evening.

i think it's clear that something is definitely wrong but armando vehemently refuses to see the bigger picture.

I'm curious to know since when you think she buried the relationship

Not 'buried' but more like 'ended it and didn't tell him about it'.

Unfortunately, i have to talk about the letter.

Note: this is my interpretation of things from Betty's pov. Feel free to disagree.

The letter maims Betty but what really kills her is watching Armando read the letter. It's overhearing his conversation with Mario. It's Armando saying 'si, yo hago todo al pie de la letra. sabe que? usted es mi heroe'. We see her watching him read the letter, not acting shocked by it, we see her watch him rip it up as the instructions asked. We see her holding back sobs. That is what kills her.

From that moment on, I think Betty mentally breaks up with him. She doesn't let him take her home anymore, a boyfriend privilege he didn't know he had. She tires to reject him, doesn't want to kiss him. Doesn't want to go on dates with him. Why? Because he's not her boyfriend anymore. And leaves it up to him to figure it out.

When he says 'entonces terminamos?!'---she already did. The times she gives into kissing him, is Betty relapsing on a ex that will not get the hint that it's over. And Armando doesn't realize how over it's been until la junta directiva when he sees the letter in his folder. (side note, he says post junta directiva that he understands now why betty was acting the way she was acting and i just want to say, no he doesnt get it yet but that's another type of post)

re their second night:

betty gave him an out and he refused to take it. like many times before. the conversation they have at mario's place, when she points out all reasons why a relationship like theirs, out in the open, would never survive. all the things he himself has thought of, in regards to his own image, his class, his family. It pains him to see her talk about it, to hear her talk about herself in such a way. In addition to knowing that he made her feel like she didn't matter to him (the arboleda incident wasn't just a case of jealousy it was about betty feeling like she wasn't enough to keep him or his attention). he could have let her go that evening. he could let her end it. when she tries to leave, he panics (foreshadowing) and stops her. that is all armando. that is his free will. he can't let her go thinking she doesn't matter to him. she matters far too much to him now that it's too late for him to turn back.

armando and his ability to be faithful to betty vs marcela--i have an ask to respond to about that in more depth but the short answer--he wants to be faithful to betty bc her jealousy doesn't come from a place of possessiveness. it's comes from betty feeling inadequate. and he doesn't want to be a reason for her to feel less than. he wants her to know that he desires her, that he loves her (and only her). after the arboleda incident, he better understands her and wants to reciprocate how betty makes him feel. (like he is special to her, like he's the only man in her life that she loves).

I can't speak on the Alejandra scenes bc....I dont like to watch him with her. I can't give you my interpretation, whether i agree or disagree bc just watching Betty and everyone tell her about her makes me sad. I will have to refresh myself on that. but yes, his rejection of her is proof not only that he changed, but that the love he feels for Betty, despite her indifference and his time away fm Bogota, it's still there. And no other woman can sway him, even if given the opportunity to move on.

#ysblf #betty la fea #anon #ask

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veyette · 2 years ago

Text

Stuck in the Christmas Factory

Hello @data-expunged-0 ! I was your christmas santa for this event :) Your two prompts were really nice and I hope I did the second one justice : I can continue it, I got the story planned but didn’t have enough time in the end.

I hope it pleases you.

Stuck in the Christmas Factory : Prompt #2: A tiny getting stuck in an area where it's always christmas (3582 words)

Quackity was a curious borrower. That was known in the small community with whom he shared a human house : no device stayed devoid of exploration if they were left alone more than a day. Quick and clever like he was, Quackity didn’t resist the challenge posed by all that technology. And what fascinating opportunity laid behind those screens and toys ! Sounds, lights, connection to others beings in objects always more colorful and joyous.

It’s not like the current occupants of the house cared about those secrets manipulations after all. They were nice people but quite forgetful, and their two children covered easily any mess or disturbance Quackity caused. Or at least, they used to.

The “Christmas” period was approaching fast and the kids seemed to be on their best behavior lately. From what Quackity gathered, it was an inflexible condition to a stranger’s visit in the house, a certain “Sana Laus” ? He heard a bit about the mysterious man, who every family members seemed to know… except neither Quackity nor any other borrowers had ever seen them. And some of the eldest community’s members were there when the youngly wed couple bought the place !

There was some mystery under all those preparations and Quackity would be damned before he let the solution escape him.

So for days, the borrower spied and consigned relentlessly any precious hints he managed to glean there and there. The visitor seemed stranger with every facts Quackity learned, quickly diverging from what he learned was “polite human rules”.

First, the stranger – whose name was actually Santa Claus, Quackity learned – was planned in the middle of the 24th’s night. Second, he would come through the chimney of the living room instead of the front door : Quackity wished him good luck with that. He went there once before quickly turning tails when faced with a spider as high as him. Then again, the mysterious man should be human tall and not any other height. Lastly, Mr Claus would not meet any members of the family, requiring they all sleep to put objects in the socks hanging to the chimney.

Weird customs for sure.

But all this definitely agreed with the borrower : by leaving the presents and gifts unattended until the morning, Mr Claus offered him the perfect opportunity to go there and see if something could be borrowed ! A brand new plaything, just for him, that he wouldn’t have to put back. Even if there was nothing of value, the possibility to have a never-used-before object was too good to be true.

The other borrowers were quite sceptic of his brand new idea and one old community’s member even chastised him, huffing that was thievery. Of course, should the one item Quackity picked be missed, the borrower would put it back immediately : but he refused to let this “Christmas’s night” passed without at least trying. The only compromise they accepted was to let him do his thing.

And so, when all the lights were turned off the 24th, no other borrowers stayed with him.

Soon Quackity was alone with the last lights of the Christmas tree.

***

Quackity stopped counting the time he almost fell asleep after twelve. Turns out staying awake with nothing to do was way more difficult than he thought ! He elected to stay hidden behind the decoration on top of the chimney, but his place turned out to be too comfortable soon. The excitation hadn’t help him sleep well the previous night and he lived the sudden weakness of his body to sleep like a real betrayal.

What time was it anyway ? He counted on the old grandma clock to mark the hours, but it stayed resolutely silent. He hoped it was past midnight already, he couldn’t bare the news only ten minutes had passed. No, the candle forgotten on the table was burned out : more than five hours had passed.

Quackity grumbled, tired and discouraged. Why was Mr Claus so late ? Was he actually aware not everyone was asleep in the house, that borrowers existed ? Or was he simply running late ? Maybe he had some trouble with the dangerous chimney’s spider, thought Quackity with a snort.

Some muffled sound resonated in the living room, interrupting his thoughts and making him go still.

A big black cloud suddenly appeared under his hiding place, sending soot on the previously clean wooden floor. Profanities escaped from the same spot and Quackity watched, astonished, the gigantic spider run from his life and disappear behind the sofa.

“You good ?” silently shouted someone from very far away. “Seemed like a hard fall.”

“Try it yourself coward !” shouted back another voice, way closer, also trying to keep silent. “I would have landed better if you didn’t push me!”

“You took forever to go down, what was I supposed to do ?!”

“Not yeet me to my death at the very least, there was a fu… honking spider in this hell hole !”

“Stop complaining, you’ll wake up the humans”, dismissed the faraway voice. “I’m sending the packages.”

A soft thump could be heard from the chimney, accompanied by new profanities. Quackity could definitely learn from this Mr Claus, if it was indeed him.

“Couldn’t have given me a warning ?! It almost crashed !”

“I did ! Why weren’t you ready, slowpoke ?”

“Warning goes before throwing the present dumb-face not after ! Now hush or you will wake up the humans.”

A second thump accompanied by a painful crack sounded.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME, I TOLD YOU TO WARN ME !” whispered-yelled the close voice.

“Make a god damn decision ! You told me to hush, dimwit ! ”

“Yeah, not to throw away the gift on the ground and watch it crash !”

Seeing no big shadow on the wall and enraptured by this riveting exchange, Quackity chanced a look outside his hiding place. And, okay, now that was fascinating.

Under the chimney stood a very small (by human standards of course, the stranger was actually twice or thrice Quackity’s own size) man, dressed in horrific clothes green, white and red. The borrower had rarely seen so appalling combination of colors and yet, there was in it like an harmony. His head was covered by a ridiculous lime pointy hat surrounded by a white bandana.

His ears were pointed though and Quackity wondered for the first time if he wasn't human. But the owners of the house were expecting this Mr Claus : since when would those tinies exist, and why would they be in good relation with the humans ? He appreciated a moment the irony : here they were, two kind of tinies. One was desperate to stay hidden, took things from humans yet lived secretly with them. The other was announcing his arrival, though refusing to see humans, and gave them things. There really were complementary.

He looked at the mysterious Claus again and watched him installing one last present under the Christmas tree.

« I'm done here ! Send the rope, I'll be pissed if Dream managed once again to complete its run faster. »

« Stop complaining and climb faster. We wouldn't lose so often if you didn't break something each time you got down. »

« Shut up ! And pull me ! »

With those nice words, Mr Claus disappeared. Quackity waited a bit, not sure he didn't dream this whole interaction. He hurried down his hidden spot, jumping from socks to decorations hanging on the tree until he landed on a package. Two of them were so big it would have taken six borrowers to attempt to open the top. Another was trapped in a ribbon like a mummy and so his attention got reported on the last three gifts. The first one was a bit disappointing : it revealed some clothes, way too big for him. He couldn't cut in them either, it would be obvious they were tampered with. The second contained a clear bottle, filled with a brown liquid that smelled weird. Quackity deduced from the big written name on the side that it was alcohol, and tried a taste. The bitter taste left him dubious at first, but he tried again and once more to his great pleasure. He would have to borrow some more at another time.

Which left him with the last gift to date : the one Mr Claus had foolishly let crash down. Quackity opened it with curiosity. Was the damage important ? Would it be the perfect place to scavenge or to borrow ?

A tremor passed through him when he discovered multiple small people, about his height.

The borrower soon realized their appearance are their only common trait, the people actually being some mass of plastic.

He exhaled, relieved. The worst went through his mind for a moment.

Amused by those simulacres, he burrowed under the dolls. Some had their arms or head broken by the sudden fall through the chimney, explaining the crash. Their clothes though were in perfect shape and, luckily, perfectly changeable. Quackity amused himself by putting on a brown hat and vest, adorned of a yellow star. He then put on some white suit with a flower on his heart.

This was the best present ever. Even his community wouldn’t be able to refuse such a gift. Clearly, the dolls were damaged : which human would bat an eye to some missing ornaments ?

Buried under the dolls, he froze when a voice appears, much too close for comfort.

“Which color was the package again ?”

“Are you really asking me that, seriously ? Just take the one who seems ruffled and let’s go. The sun will be up soon.”

Before Quackity could react, Mr Claus closed the top of the box where he hid. Panic filled him : where was the box taken ? Why did the stranger come back at all ?

He didn’t notice Quackity’s presence but then, how could he get out ?

Shaken by the hasty movements of his carrier, the borrower tried to regain his footing without success. The dolls crashed on him with each jolt and he felt himself get sick when the box got suddenly up in abrupt succession.

“Can’t you pull me up faster ? It’s still dark and creepy here” complained Mr Claus.

“Be… arrgh… quiet. Your air is… hmpf… getting too heavy…” answered the foreign voice, getting clearer the higher they got.

“His air, seriously George ? You couldn’t have picked like, literally anything else ? Like his humor ?” asked a third voice with amusement.

Still crammed in the present, Quackity closed his eyes to concentrate on the sounds he perceived. Where were they ? Wasn’t Mr Claus supposed to be one man ? A new jolt put him higher and rolling against a corner, crashing harshly in the pile of clothes he assembled. Wood cracked as the three voices came together.

“Oh you, don’t start it ! You could have helped him at any time but nooo, mister Dream is too good for his old friend.”

“Not my fault if you idiots cracked a package”, crooned the third voice. “Get better. Losers.”

“Next time… arf… you carry his sorry ass. And you’ll see who’s faster.”

“Sorry, since when was I the one responsible for this fiasco ?” explosed Mr Claus (?).

“Since you started ordering things and complain-“

“Shut it girls, you’re both pretty”, interrupted the third voice. “Let’s go before we’re late, I’m hoping to get promoted this year. Yip-yip Rudolph!”

Let’s go ? Where ? screamed Quackity in his mind. Where the hell are those dumbass taking me ?

Before he got to think too hard, the box was jolted in the air while one of them started happily screaming. Quackity tried to focus on his lunch and more specifically, to keep it in his stomach. Wherever they were going, he hoped the travel would be fast.

***

The travel – no, the journey ! – was not fast. Despite Quackity’s best thoughts and prayers, they didn’t reach their destination before a time that seemed infinite to him. Still, he was an optimistic at heart and different things were gained during that interminable travel.

One : he managed to cut himself a hole to see and breathe through with the gold star of his new vest. The air was incredibly cold but he had enough clothes with him to create sufficient heat. Two : he now discovered Mr Claus, if it was indeed him, flied. Which would explain why he came through the chimney. Sadly, this also meant he did have to wait until they reached their destination to escape his unknowing captors. Three : his captors were certified idiots. Imbécils. If he was caught by them, it was no surprise it was an incident. They were also really loud, which wouln’t hurt when Quackity made his inevitable escape. Four : he was freaking flying. No borrowers ever went in the air ! He would have so much stuff to say to his community when he came back.

If he came back.

As said before, Quackity was an optimistic guy so he didn’t linger on that thought. He did listen however the three morons argue and discuss, lulled by their funny conversation.

He was almost disappointed when they reached the ground, but his sick stomach quickly made him grateful for the stopping motion. The third man, easily identifiable with his confident and leading voice, stopped their carriage and the two bickering ones got down. Through his hole, Quackity saw the one he had nicknamed Mr Claus and another, similar looking man. His green and red uniform was as beautiful on him than on Mr Claus, which is to say not at all, but big round black glasses framed his face. At least they would be easy to distinguish.

“When you meet Karl, remind him Santa’s speech is at seven in the Great Hall”, said the third and still invisible man. “I’ll see you there.”

“That arrogant prick”, sighed Mr Claus. “I can’t believe he beat us once again ! Bad, Antfrost and Sam are going to be unbearable this eve.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t have happened if you caught the package”, answered Googles while walking towards an unidentified place.

“Wouln’t have missed it if you warned me”, replied Mr Claus, following his friend (?). “It should be your responsibility to get that thing to the broken factory.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to see Karl now ?” exclaimed Googles with an atrocious, fake concerned face. “Oh the poor boy, he will simply cry all the tears he has when I tell him how you would rather go wash the reindeers than visit him... But”, he interrupted himself, “as your bestest friend ever Sapnap, I accept to bring those heart-breaking news. No need to thank me, I’ll do what’s necessary.”

He made a move towards the box and Quackity readied himself to a violent transition but Mr Claus/Sadnap (?) held firm.

“Don’t even think about it, you manipulative, lazy ass !”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You’re insufferable and each day I hope you’ll get chosen for the lost children’s daycare”, replied Sadmap.

“You mean that’s not already my job, with being forced to accompanny you ?”

Their quick back and forth came naturally, smiled Quackity. At least their banter was enough to forget about his situation.

“GEORGE ! SAPNAP !” screamed an high pitched voice bubbling with joy. “You came back just in time for - … Wait, is there a problem with your gifts again ? I swear I did everything right this time, I don’t get how…”

“It was that dumbass’s fault actually,” came the answer in chorus from the two not-friends.

Quackity tried to see the newcomer but the hole was directed towards Googles/George’s torso. He resigned himself to more waiting.

“I, of course, expect a full explanation but let’s cut to the chase so I can repair that while you explain. What’s wrong with this gift ?”

George looked towards what Quackity guessed was Sapnap’s face.

“It fell down the chimney and made a crash sound”, succinctly said his current holder. “It’s some dolls apparently ? The list wasn’t clear, but luckily we could use one of the substitute once the round ended.”

“Okay, okay, let’s take a look at it then, I’ll see how bad it is and whether I sent it to trash’s section or to Foolish’s office”.

Being passed around was definitely the worst feeling ever, thought Quackity while once again being sent tumbling down. He wished he didn’t have to correct his thoughts so quickly when the box opened and a round face with sparkling brown eyes and pointed ears peered inside, making him freeze instantly.

Was it his prey’s instincts or simply his survival instinct ? Either way, he couldn’t move an inch, his breath caught in a bout of panic. His kidnappers may not be humans but they were still thrice his size, big enough to inflict serious damage should they want to. Quackity had no idea they even existed before tonight, who’s to say they won’t react violently when faced with the borrower’s existence ?

“Well, there’s a lot of them with parts broken. And their clothes are a mess, good thing you didn’t leave the gift at the house.”

He barely twitched when the stranger’s hand got each dolls out one by one, revealing him more and more. His tongue was paralyzed, opposite to his heart who beat like crazy in his chest. He could hear their conversation through a impenetrable molasse, distorted by the anxiety. Faintly, he guessed Sapnap recounted his version of the night ?

His forced immobility certainly saved him when he was the next picked, the brunet grabbing him like the previous dolls. To his immediate fear however, he wasn’t let down with the rest, but closely examined. Those brown eyes may have been magical from afar, but they were now a mere centimeter from his face and he really would like some personal space

“This one though is beautiful, don’t you think ? Glad it didn’t get damaged, it’d be quite the waste”, sighed Karl wistfully before settling him down on the left, with the intact one. “I’ll send the good ones to Foolish. He will know what to do with them, the rest can go through recycling.”

But Quackity didn’t want to go to Foolish. He was lucky enough to pass through this guy’s quick control, he refused to try his chance again. His boy seemed in agreement seeing how he could now control his movements. Taking advantage of the three men’s distraction with the last dolls and the “weird pile of clothes, I wouldn’t ever done that for a command”, Quackity slowly got up and went back towards the end of the counter. Now that he could see where he was, he was almost in awe.

The building was as tall as three humans’ houses put one on one. The walls, covered by a magnificent wall papers in iridescent green, gold and red, regorged from details more funny and practical than the previous one.

Multiple carousels went from one place to the other, multicolor lights and decorations illuminating the place in a perfect kaleidoscope. A dozen of Christmas trees, heavily ornamented, embellished the place and the roof, made of glass and so faraway it could as well had been space, was covered by a fin layer of snow. It was a wonderful sight.

All also seemed at his kidnappers’ height, which made it way less dangerous to parkour through than in human’s houses. It was perfect.

Good things come to an end however.

This one did when George turned around and spotted him.

“K… Karl ? I think one of your toys is alive”, he stammered, not believing his eyes, even putting his glasses on his forehead to see better.

“What ? That’s imposs… Wooooaaaw”, howled Karl while turning, in total disbelief. “Huh, hello little guy ?”

Quackity turned around slowly, as if he could delay the inevitable. But there, right in front of him, still were the three guys, as frozen as he was a few seconds before.

“Do… do you understand me ?” tried the brunet once again, approaching slowly as to not frighten him.

The borrower didn’t stay to offer him an answer. He turned around and jumped down, going towards one the multiple carousel that were at the back of the desk.

“W… What ? Stop it ! Or him ! I don’t know, do something !!” shrieked Karl while watching it disappear in the factory.

George and Sapnap stayed petrified a bit more, shocked to their core by the sudden movements of the toy. Since when was such a thing possible ? Clearly, it had blinked and moved, this was no illusion. But the fact a toy was alive seemed to much for the poor elves.

Sapnap was the first to follow, screaming at the doll to get back here this instant, jumping after it on the carrousel. George took a bit more time before asking where the carousel went to Karl, that barely managed to answer him. It was the first time ever an elf got such a situation to the repair’s desk.

The two friends hurried down to the trash’s room, where they should hopefully find the “toy” or at the very least Sapnap.

#mcyt g/t secret santa 2022 #mcyt gt secret santa 2022 #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #tiny!quackity #t!quackity #g!georgenotfound #g!sapnap #g!karl #giant!georgenotfound #giant!sapnap #giant!karl #well they aren't really giants #just bigger #mcyt gt community #mcyt g/t community #g!dream #but really it's more for the tagg than for the actual appearance

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