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#how to transmit a feeling an emotion with just your gaze
xqueenmakesyoucrazy · 2 years
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Impactful. Never done before. Yet timeless class. Who else can do it?
Liu Yuxin for GQ China Part 2
(source: LYX weibo)
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makeyoumine69 · 6 months
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Being Bateman’s Soulmate | HEADCANON
Pairing: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader; CW: Romance & Angst; Links: [MASTERLIST]; Song Rec: The Cure — Lovesong; A/N: This is dedicated to everyone who is madly in love with their fictional crush! 💗 If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!
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— “Soulmate? What the fuck does that word even mean?” Bateman would say the first time you mentioned it. His reaction would amuse you at first, although you knew that Patrick would understand its meaning in time, and that feeling when you could touch another person's soul as if it were material. The feeling of wanting to scream because you were so in love that you couldn't even believe it was possible to have such feelings. All of this would eventually overwhelm him, and then he'd never want it to end.
— "You think I have a soul, huh?" He would smile whenever you had sentimental conversations, and even though Bateman kept repeating that he didn't like them, you would sometimes see him sitting alone, thinking about his life before he met you. Did you make his life better? Well, was it even possible to judge such things? Since nothing in this world could be black or white, it was always gray.  But with you, his life was painted in new colors.
— “I remember you telling me that your favorite color was red.” Red like the blood that spilled on his perfect sheets whenever he treated you too rough, but you never asked him to stop. Sometimes those little scarlet spots on the white sheets could look like petals from the red roses Bateman used to give you, even though he knew how clichéd that was. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?" The man would ask, tracing his long finger over the red marks on your hip.  Sighing, you would roll onto your stomach and give him your most devoted look. "Because I like it," and that was all he needed to hear from you. "I'd tell you if I didn't." Having said that, you would sit up to find his lips and kiss him, slowly but eagerly, transmitting all the love and emotion you had for him through that kiss.
— "If you say you love me, why does it hurt so much?" He would ask you this question over and over again after he had a breakdown because he was so overwhelmed by everything you were giving him: your care, your affection, your understanding, and your support. Eventually, it all became too much for him, and when Patrick realized that he was probably in love with you, a sharp pain coursed through the very small pitch of his body like an electric impulse. He loved you so much it hurt.
— One night, you were sitting in the living room in Bateman’s slick apartment and watching some classic romantic comedy from the 1930s, the scenes from it made you think about something you never expected you would. "Patrick, have you ever thought about death?" You asked suddenly, holding his hand and noticing how tense he became. "I mean... I'm afraid of death because I don't want to be without you, if that makes any sense." At first, Patrick just laughed and gently moved closer to you, hugging your shoulders possessively. "Can you promise me that... if there is an afterlife, you will find me there?" Nearly sobbing, you looked into his dark, brown eyes, at the way his eyebrows furrowed as the man considered his answer. "And we will be together even after death?" Your voice cracked at the weight of your words, never before had you dared to speak of such things.
— The question of death, an abstract yet intimately familiar topic, drew a thoughtful arch to his brow. Death was not a stranger to him, nor was it an adversary he feared-not in the way that the average person might. "Death," Patrick began, his voice tinged with a cold amusement that belied the gravity of the subject. "It's the only certainty in life, isn't it? A final transaction, one we all must make." His arm tightened around you, a gesture that feigned warmth but held an undercurrent of something sharper. Bateman met your gaze, the hazel of his eyes unreadable yet intense, reflecting the black-and-white dance of images on the screen. "If there is an afterlife," he continued, weighing each word like a coin on a scale, "I'll find you. But let's not be so morose, darling." The man leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his breath a whisper that carried the scent of the red wine you had shared earlier. "Life is for the living, and I intend to savor every moment I have with you. Making promises about the afterlife is... morbidly romantic, but unnecessary. I have you now, and you have me. Isn't that enough?"
— And that was even more than enough.
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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hopplessilse · 8 months
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Fetish II. Eyes don´t lie
Teacher!joel x f!student 18+ explicit minors dni
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Serie masterlist
Summary: Mr. Miller gives you more attention than ever, you are his priority, you want to become his favorite student, so a visit to his office doesn't hurt anyone, you just want him to help you solve the topic of your thesis.
Word count: 9.5 k
Warnings: Teacher-student, age gab (reader in her early 20's, joel in his late 40's) pet names, sexual fantasies, flirtation, slow burn (not so slow), Feeling of guilt, Mention and consumption of alcohol, hangover, Mention on teacher/student relationship, Swallowing medicine pills, Mention of vomiting (nothing explicit), Professor Miller's Aftercare, they are both two consenting adults, fear of being found out.
Friday.
"Good day, students. Today we're going to talk about two branches of anthropology that are very important for understanding human nature: physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology," Joel said, walking in front of the class and writing the title on the board.
It was a fact that that crush was now an obsession, you didn't know how to get Joel out of your head, you couldn't help but romanticize every single thing he did or said, you beat yourself up mentally for sexualizing him, but it was kind of impossible to stop when the clothes he wore fit him ridiculously well, it was impossible for him to look attractive with everything. The vest he wore over his white shirt was ridiculously hot, you never imagined him with a vest and now, you can't get the image out of your head.
"First of all, physiological anthropology" He paused, looking at everyone in the room
"Physiological anthropology is the branch of anthropology that studies the biological dimension of the human being. It deals with the physical and psychological characteristics that are common to all human beings, regardless of their culture or era"
You could feel your body present, but your head was somewhere else, thinking about so many things that have nothing to do with matter
"Some of the topics that physiological anthropology studies are:
|Human Anatomy
|Human Physiology
|Human Psychology
|Human Evolution"
His gaze passed over your seat, several times, but you didn't realize it because you were so gone that you didn't know what he was talking about, you only saw his lips move, the pen around his fingers as he wrote on the blackboard what you assumed were subtopics, the truth is that you don't even know.
From Joel's perspective he assumed you were paying attention, as you saw him with furrowed brows and followed his steps, but the moment he stared at you, saw how your eyes were gone, he could perceive that you were not quite present in the class.
"Physiological anthropology helps us understand how the human body works, how we think and feel, and how we have evolved as a species" He finally says, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, arms crossed as he walks back in front of the class, looking at everyone as he continues to explain.
"Now Pragmatic Anthropology is the branch of anthropology that studies the cultural dimension of the human being. It deals with human characteristics that are a product of culture, such as values, beliefs, customs, and social norms.
Some of the topics that pragmatic anthropology studies are:
|Culture
|The Society
|Education
|Religion
|The Art
Pragmatic anthropology helps us understand how human society is constructed, how values and beliefs are transmitted, and how emotions and feelings are expressed" He paused, took a breath, and asked, looking at the whole class
"Could any of you tell me what's the difference between the two?" he look at the blackboard and look at them again, some whispered some answers but with the fear of making a mistake they said nothing.
"Miss" he said your last name 1 time, you didn't listen, you just saw that his eyes were glued to you, he named you for the second time and your friend nudged you. At that moment you felt your body for the first time since he entered the room, a shiver ran down your spine, while you saw your friend.
She just made a gesture to you with her eyes open, you know she scolded you mentally. You looked back at Joel and he was arms crossed 'shit in that pose yes he looks bigger and stronger, concentrate' looking at you over his glasses, his lips were sealed and his expression was serious as he watched you, you could feel all the eyes on you waiting for your answer.
"Sorry?" You apologized by looking down and looking at him again "I didn't hear the question" You interlaced your fingers in your lap nervously as you mentally begged him not to humiliate you.
"i ask who knows the difference between the two topics we just talked about" He looked at you as he got closer so he could get a better look at you since you were in the third row, a little out of reach.
"I… I don't know," you said nervously, shaking your head softly
You saw him duck his head as a sarcastic laugh came from his lips, shaking his head, walking up the stairs, walking down the hallway that left him in front of you and looking into your eyes, you could see disappointment in them.
"Of course you don't know, you didn't pay attention to a single word that was said" he said seriously, his words hurt you, and more because everyone listened while looking at you
"if you are in my class it is to learn, I don't stand here every day so that the words go in one ear and out the other" this time he said to everyone, his voice sounding deeper as he walked away from you and down the stairs returning to the center
A silence covered the room for a few seconds when a squeaky female voice made itself present, you shrugged your shoulders as you felt your ears bleed at the sound of that voice.
"Go ahead, Miss Vince," this time Joel's voice sounded calmer and softer
"The main difference between physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology is that the first deals with human characteristics that are common to all human beings, while the second deals with human characteristics that are a product of culture"
"That's right, as clear as water" He looked at you and you just looked down at your lap where your cold hands were hiding.
"Physiological anthropology is more objective, as it is based on observation and experimentation. Pragmatic anthropology, on the other hand, is more subjective, as it is based on the interpretation of cultural phenomena" He said, going back to the blackboard and writing the key words on it.
You felt so small, you felt a lump in your throat, you felt an anger inside you, you tried to control your heavy breathing. You looked at your hands and you could see and feel the waterline in your eyes fill with tears, you didn't want to cry, not in front of them, not in front of him, you didn't want him to see the power he had over you. You took a deep breath, wiping your eyes quickly, as you looked straight ahead and made a note in your notebook.
"In conclusion, physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology are two fundamental branches of anthropology since they help us to understand human nature in all its complexity, both in its biological dimension and in its cultural dimension"
The rest of the class went on normally, you just didn't look at him, you just listened and looked at the blackboard to make notes of what he wrote. You were quiet for the rest of the class, even when roll call you just raised your hand, at the end he just let them read a file that he would send them.
You left the room without even looking at him and hurried out. It was 6:30 a.m., with Mr. Miller's class being the last. Even though you had an appointment with the student counselor, that's why you had to run since she was leaving early.
"Where are you going?" shouted your friend seeing you hurrying down the hallway
"I have to catch up with ava, I need to talk to her" you yelled back saying goodbye with your hand in the air and disappearing around the corner.
Being true you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible, you couldn't stand the presence of everyone around you, let alone his presence, you really felt hurt, you knew he was right, you weren't paying attention, but it wasn't necessary for him to talk to you in that hurtful tone, it was the first time you saw him angry, And you're the reason.
Your high heels echoed off the shiny floor of the school as you walked down the stairs, walked a few doors along the hallway into one that said 'teachers' office'. Past the doors you could see a long corridor that led you into the offices, several Victorian-style windows and within the space were scattered the offices of each director of the school.
You walked to the right where the office of ava, the student counselor, a beautiful lady who had been working at the university for 10 years. You knocked a couple of times on the wooden door and from inside you heard 'come in'.
You walked in closing the door behind you and when you met her gaze you gave her a smile.
"Hello" she said your name "Good afternoon, how are you?" she said in an enthusiastic voice, whenever you saw her she looked happy, you didn't know how she could be in a good mood being locked in those 4 walls.
"hi, Well thank you, how are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine honey, tell me what brings you here," she said, adjusting her glasses and leaving some sheets beside her.
You sat in the chair in front of her desk and left your backpack on the floor
"Well… I wanted to talk to you about my thesis topic"
"Okay… How can I help you?"she crossed her hands in front of her at the desk.
"I thought maybe you could… Or well, I know you studied psychology, right?"
"That's right," she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee
"Well, my thesis talks about transpersonal anthropology, and I know there's a topic in psychology about that, and I wanted to know if you could give me some important points about that, or your knowledge in it," you said kindly giving her a smile
"Of course honey, it's just a long topic and I have to run home, so how about Monday you come and we talk about it."
"Sounds great"
"How about 2 p.m.?"
"Yes, I'm free at that time"
"Perfect" A knock interrupted your talk, Ava gave way and a head peeked out of the door
"I'm sorry to interrupt Ava, but Professor Miller came looking for you a while ago and asked me if you could stop by his office for a moment before you left"
"Of course, thank you for letting me know" they closed the door and you and Ava got up from their chairs "What subject does Professor Miller give you?" she said as she took her things and put them in her bag
"Mmh philosophical anthropology" you bent down taking your backpack and passing it over your shoulder
"It would be very good for you to talk to him about your thesis, He knows more than I do because he reads a lot about the different branches of anthropology."
"Amm I hadn't thought of it" you said showing a forced smile as you followed her to the door, she opened and gave you space to go after her, she locked the door and looked at you
"Come with me, we'll tell Professor Miller if he knows about it" she said as she walked past you, you stood with the word in your mouth
"Amm… No.. I don't think he have time" You couldn't help but get nervous as you walked down the hallway to his office, this being one of the last at the end of the hallway
"Of course he has time, he's gone until 8," she said as she greeted the teachers who passed by you. "I love his office, it has a beautiful view of the forest behind campus" she look at you over her shoulder before knocking twice on the wooden door that said in black letters on the glass 'Mr. Miller'
"Come in," a deep voice rang out, sounded from inside through the door.
Ava came in first greeting Joel kindly. You stayed outside, you took a deep breath before peeking out of the doorway, making Joel aware of your presence, making the smile on her face slowly disappear as you entered and closed the door behind you, staying leaning into it looking at both of them.
Your breathing quickened a little more as your eyes met, you didn't want to be there, you didn't want to see him and you guess he didn't want to see you either. You looked at Ava and smiled nervously at her, clasping your hands behind you.
"We hope we don't interrupt Professor Miller" said Ava standing in front of his desk
"Not at all Ava, Amm" he look at you and look back at her "I wanted to tell you about the student outing that will be done at the end of the month" he said playing with the pen he had in his hands
"Of course of course, we must change some details about that...amm I have the itinerary in digital, If you want, I can send it to you and talk about it on Monday."
"Of course that would be wonderful" he nodded quickly and took a deep breath seeing the two of you with a tight smile on his lips
"Oh it's true haha" she walked over to you and took you by the shoulder approaching you to the desk, making you being closer right in front of him, she said your name "wanted to ask you if you have any knowledge about transpersonal psychology, It's for her thesis on transpersonal anthropology"
God, she looks like your mom speaking for you.
"I have knowledge on both subjects," he said, looking at her and not you.
"Perfect, I told you he knew," she said smiling at you and you just smiled back "Can she stay so you can explain a little about the subject?"
Your eyes widened looking at her "I don't think Professor Miller has time for that" you said laughing nervously, shaking your head.
"Well… I'll stay a few more hours, so I have time," he said looking at you, this time his voice sounded deeper
You stared at him for a moment swallowing, felt your ears rumble.
"You see, Professor Miller is always there to attend to his students, see you on Monday Mr. Miller" Ava said goodbye as she made her way to the door, Joel said goodbye, and you only felt the air from the door blow behind you, feeling Joel's presence heavier than ever.
"Take a seat" he said, pointing with his hand to the chair in front of him
You sat down leaving your things aside, you breathed deeply. You watched the room as he got up and picked up some papers on the shelf in the corner.
His office really was big for a simple professor. There were two large windows behind his desk, the ceiling was twice as high as the rest of the school, there was a brown leather armchair at the other end of the room, a coffee table in front of it and a warm light lamp on one side of the armchair. Several bookshelves adorned the walls, some paintings and recognitions.
His desk was kept simple, a laptop, papers on one end and a few books on the other end, his glasses were kept on one side of his case while a coffee cup was kept empty on the other side of the laptop. His office was kept lit by a few warm lamps that he had around the office. The little light of the cloudy afternoon came in through the windows, which were kept open letting the cold breeze into the cozy cube.
Your teeth gnashed from the cold coming in, as the afternoon was cold at this time of year. You were dressed in jeans, your top being a white long-sleeved shirt but a little open at the chest, revealing your collarbones and your locket hanging from your neck.
Joel walked back to the desk, leaving some papers on the side of the laptop.
"Okay" sat down in front of you as he leaned back in the chair and let out a heavy exhale from his lips "Tell me you'd like to know" his lips moved as he rested his right arm on the armrest of his desk chair and rested his thumb under his jaw, index and middle finger on the hundred and the others rolled into his palm.
You couldn't breathe properly, it was hard to inhale and exhale slowly. It makes you feel strange to be in his office alone, like those old days, you were only in the same situation once, but it was for no seconds, now it was different, because it was you and only you who was with him, without people to take his attention away from you.
"Well…" You breathed as you watched as he swallowed and his Adam's apple went down and up, while his gaze stayed on you, serious. "I have an initial basis for my thesis, the introduction, which is transpersonal anthropology and psychological anthropology, but… I wanted to talk about both fields but it's a bit impossible since it's too much of both subjects"
"It's not impossible if you're talking about topics that are intertwined between the transpersonal and the psychological, you would have to investigate if any research of this type has already been done, so you can have some sustenance or support"
You were about to speak when he interrupted you
"And why don't you focus on a specific topic about transpersonal anthropology?
"Because I'm still interested in psychology, and I think it's something that can go hand in hand with the transpersonal in the social area" you said, clapping your palms in your lap, while smiling at him with sealed lips.
He smiled at you, nodding.
"Can I see your research preview? If it doesn't bother you"
"Sure," you took out your cell phone and opened the file. You held it out to him, he reached out and took it in his hands, making your phone look small in his hand.
He looked at the screen as his hand reached out to grab the glasses that were next to him and put them on, you looked at him and you could see the reflection of your cell phone in his glasses as he rested his elbows on the wood of the desk.
You watched as he wagged his finger up on the screen, you could see through his glasses as his eyes moved following the letters on the screen. You could hear his breathing, which honestly bothered you a little bit when people breathed too hard, ugh you couldn't stand that but… Being him was fine. You moved your foot impatiently and nervously, something Mr. Miller could notice.
"Do you want coffee?" he said as he looked at you through his glasses, and the fine lines on his forehead were present.
"n.. no, I'm fine," you let out a small nervous laugh. He only nodded, smiling slightly and looking back at the screen.
"Don't be nervous then" echoed in your ears along with his hoarse tone of voice, that tone you longed to hear close to your ear, that delirious.
"I'm not nervous, just impatient" you said looking at your heels while keeping your hands crossed in front of your chest.
You saw how he put his arm down and put your phone on the desk and slid it towards you. You watched your cell phone rest on the wood with the screen on, you saw the small black letters that were written on that screen, and you could see that he had read to the end of the document.
"I think it's okay," you looked up and saw that he had crossed his arms while he saw you still with his glasses on.
"Just okay?" you looked at him incredulously and frowned.
"What do you want me to say? It's only 3 leaves," he said seriously, without taking his eyes off you.
"Won't you tell me that I need to expand the introduction further? check my spelling mistakes, that I need to paraphrase the texts well"
He bit his lip and denied
"No, I think you have everything under control" You stared at him in silence "did you expect me to tell you something else?" he said raising an eyebrow
"A little yeah... you used to correct me only by the index of work" you said quietly, looking at your heels.
You heard how a little laugh sounded from his chest, you looked up and he smiled at you, you saw in his eyes such a beautiful sparkle.
"You're so cute" Your chest would explode if he told you that
"Well, if you put index inside it… It's very obvious that it's wrong, sweetheart"
Shit, did he… Did he actually call me sweetheart?
"Sorry..." you said in a whisper
"You don't have to say sorry, it's okay," he said, looking down at his arms.
"I'm sorry to expect a lot from you always"
He looked up in eye contact, and you saw his face turn into surprise and confusion at your confession.
"What do you mean?" This time he lower his arms so he can get closer to the desk and be close to you, with the wood being the only thing separating you both.
You sighed as you saw his confused expression. You should be honest with him, let him know how you feel about him as your teacher.
"Honestly…"You paused to breathe "You are my favorite teacher, from the first day you taught us I saw the passion you had, how much you like to help your students… and I.. I just want to be as good as you."
You looked at him in silence as he processed what you said
"You are very smart and you know about everything, I wish I was good at everything and that it was easy, that I could know the subject easily" you sighed heavily "I know you expect a lot from me, and I'm sorry I didn't pay attention in class today, I know you put effort into your work and I know you want us to learn as much as possible, I really shouldn't have lost focus"
He didn't need to know all that, but you were frustrated by his class, and you felt like he wasn't evaluating you properly because of your attitude. He was silent for a few more seconds, maybe you had sounded pathetic when you said all that… Was it too much to say?
"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound pathetic"
"Don't apologize please" You looked at him and he was already looking at you. "It's nice that you tell me that I'm your role model, I know you're an amazing student, i can see that you're determined to get what you want, you're responsible, you have ethics, that says a lot about the person you are" he smiled at you "and the class… Don't worry, I know I'm not always going to get 100% attention, and I shouldn't have talked to you like that in front of everyone, I apologize for that." You could see the regret in his eyes
"Thank you" you nodded and gave him a half-smile, he smiled back nodding
"and just to be clear… You're also my favorite student" a mischievous smile appeared on his lips as his eyes narrowed.
You gawked at him as you watched as he stood up, grabbed his cup, and walked to the coffee maker behind him, with his back to you, a perfect view of his back.
"Really?" you couldn't help but sound happy and confused at the same time
"Yes," he said, still with his back turned
"Since when?" he was going to speak but you interrupted him "Is it because I said you're my favorite teacher?"
You heard him laugh and look at you over his shoulder. He fell silent looking at you and you just frowned, waiting for his answer eagerly.
He turned around and replied
"since the first time I saw you, last semester"
Your smile faded, your mouth dried up, you felt your hands turn cold.
Was it true? Or was he screwing you? For a moment you thought about that day… And was it impossible for you to remember everything, what he had seen in you that day? As far as you can remember, you were quiet the whole class, you only participated by telling him your name and some of your hobbies, but other than that… You don't remember saying anything interesting about the class. You wouldn't let curiosity kill you, so you bravely decided to ask him
"what did you see in me that day?" You leaned your elbow on the desk and your fist held your jaw as you stared at him.
He turned around with a blue mug in his hand walking to the desk, putting the cup in front of you. You looked at him confused.
"I didn't ask you for one"
while he went to the coffee maker taking his cup he replied
"take it, I don't accept a no"
You smiled, you looked at the coffee and saw that it was black.
"Amm I don't like black coffee"
He finished filling his cup. He walked silently to the side of the coffee maker and took a small piece of cardboard, walked with both hands full, left his cup in front of his chair and held out the cardboard, you took it and looked at the letters, 'vanilla flavored milk' it said on the front.
You smiled at him in appreciation. It was a bit odd that he had this in his office, as you always saw him drinking black coffee all over school, he didn't look like someone who drank lattes, and less vanilla flavored.
You filled your cup a little with the milk, closed it, and set it aside. While Joel was looking at the furniture full of books that sat at the other end of his desk, in front of these two pieces of furniture was a dark olive-green three-seater armchair, it was spacious.
You don't know how many times you'd admired how good he looked, it was ridiculous the space it has in your mind, the number of times you think how fine it looks.
You took the coffee, and left it on the desk when you saw Joel approaching you. Joel came back to you but this time with a book in hand, left it on the desk and sat down in his chair.
"This book could be useful for your research, and for you to learn a little more about anthropology"
You brought it closer to you' Transpersonal Anthropology. Society, Culture, Reality and Consciousness, DIEGO R. VIEGAS ́ you read on the cover of the book.
"You've given me a book before, remember?" you said, double-tapping the book.
"And?" he take from his coffee looking at you through his glasses
"Why do you give me another one?"
before answering you he taste the taste of coffee in his mouth, lick his lips and look at you.
"It's for my favorite student to learn and I don't go around scolding her in class"
You felt your cheeks burn, you looked down, but not before seeing how he smiled and crossed his arms.
Heck, he knows the effect that had on you.
You laughed, trying not to sound nervous. Was he making you nervous on purpose? Even though it was somewhat innocent the way he did it, but why call you his favorite student and give you 2 books from his bookshelf, you would never do that, your books are sacred to you, you would only recommend them and that's it, but give it to someone? You should appreciate that person so much to do such an act, even love him too much.
"You didn't answer my question," you said as you sipped from the cup, looking at him over the blue pottery
You saw how he smiled and shook his head. He scratched his beard, which was adorned by some gray hair on both sides of his jaw.
"I remember … You were at the front of the class, I thought you would be one of the ones who talked all the time, but you never participated, you just nodded to what your classmates were saying, and I thought 'what a weird girl, why being at the front when you don't participate' only heard your voice when you introduced yourself, and knowing what you liked to read… I liked you immediately, It made me tender to see you nod and take note, you are very calm, and you have a lot of knowledge, even if it is hard for you to believe it"
You didn't know that he had noticed you that way from the first day, he took the time to study you between classes, that he would be interested in you because of your taste in reading. It felt strange in any way that he would tell you that, it felt very… private, very personal. Some teachers would just say that because you were responsible and paying attention, they were satisfied with that, but not Joel, he saw something in you that you weren't sure was visible to you, it's like what you see in him.
You remembered the way he treated you, the warm, soft tone of voice in which he addressed you. The smile that appeared on his face when you approached his desk, how his eyes sought you when he asked them to participate, the attention he paid when you presented a topic in class. All the attention you felt you had at the beginning became less and less as the months went by, but whenever you sought him he was there for you. And now… You felt all the pressure on you.
"Well… I wasn't the only one who knew" you shook your head grimacing, you lowered your gaze and looked at your red nails "there were other colleagues who were more diligent"
"No one like you" you looked up shy to see a different reaction in their eyes. You swallowed and just denied it.
You had exactly one name on the tip of your tongue, a name that had been on your mind the previous semester, you were afraid to say it, to say it in front of it, but it's a perfect opportunity that you wouldn't pass up.
"Melissa" you finally said, you tried to sound as normal as possible.
You looked up and as you had imagined. His face changed, his eyes turned dark and his features hardened, he tried to disguise it with his tone when answering.
"What about her?" he leaned over the desk and intertwined his fingers on the desk.
"She was just like me… passionate about the same topics, but she did participate" you smiled nodding, pretending you liked her.
"Well," he paused and took a moment to think and blink as he looked at you, "I think… She was different from you… From what I saw in class, I don't think you should compare yourself to her"
You held his gaze when he finished speaking. You didn't know how he did it, but if you knew what really happened, you'd say he's good at lying.
"I'm not comparing myself, I'm just saying she could have been your favorite student too" You shrugged and took one last sip of the coffee in front of you.
"I don't usually go around thinking about who my next star student will be, but you'd be surprised to know that you're the first favorite student I have"
You laughed, shaking your head and covering your mouth with your palm as you laughed. On the move you caught him directing his eyes at your body, but it was in the blink of an eye.
"I must be special, I guess"
"You must be," he smiled at you, showing his teeth as he looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.
Sunday.
The smell of the night after it rained was something different, the breeze whipping through the curtains of your room, the sky full of gray clouds too big to cover the sky in its entirety. The street outside your house was silent, you could only hear the heavy air squealing out your window breaking through. You were lying on your bed, while it was being kept tidy you only had an old blanket on top of you, in fact it was from one of your favorite childhood movies, high school musical.
You had two pillows behind your head for extra support. Your eyes stayed focused on the show you were watching. For you, Sundays meant resting and not talking to anyone, there was something about Sundays that felt different from the other days of the week. Normally you didn't go out, you weren't a person who liked to go out all the time, your social battery drained very quickly if there were too many people.
As you ran your hand over the locket hanging from your neck, you remembered that first week of the previous semester, the way Joel noticed that you had changed your necklace.
"What happened to the previous one?" he said, his arms crossed as he leaned his hips against your desk.
"I put it away, don't you like this one?"
"It's very nice, you must keep something very precious inside"
"I don't put anything in it yet" you laughed slightly
"Well, when you do I want to know"
It was part of you, of your personality, it was attached to you by some invisible rope that you didn't know how to detect, the feeling, the power that made that necklace so special to you. It's like with Joel, you didn't know what force brought you closer to him, you didn't know what contained that human being who made your thoughts his, maybe you maintained a closeness that no teacher/student would have, but for you it was something innocent and vague, he was just doing his job helping you with your work.
The comment your friend had made to you ran through your mind over and over again 'no teacher would express himself like that about a student, let alone tell her that she is his favorite student, I doubt that any teacher in his life has had one'. You didn't want to think that he might have a little interest in you, because if you look at it from his point of view… What the hell could he see in you? You weren't mature or attractive enough to be with him, plus it's impossible to have any kind of relationship with him.
Things after Friday had been different, despite not seeing him for 1 day, you couldn't stop thinking about his gaze, how he smiled when he looked at you, the seriousness on his face when you named melisa. You really wanted it all to be a lie, you begged it wasn't the kind of teacher who sexually harasses his students until they get what they want. If you ever had a chance to be with him, you wanted to be the only one, you wanted to be special to him.
Even if you thought you were deluded because let's face it, he is an adult man, older by almost 26 years, he has a life made, he has stability, he is a mature person full of experiences, he is single, attractive, he can have any woman with him if he wants, so why settle for a 21-year-old girl who on top off that is his student who has damn mental and commitment problems, and in need of attention all the damn time.
Hell, you were so dam hard to yourself at times but you had to keep your feet on the ground. You were damn smart that you knew that if you got into the game it was going to be easy to get out of it, you shouldn't take it so seriously, you'd let everything flow in its wake.
You know he needs a woman, but you could give him what no one has done for him, you wanted to be his weakness so badly, you wanted him to beg you to be his… and you wanted to beg him to make you his again and again.
Your thoughts tormented you when you were alone, you couldn't help but think about different things at once, for you there was no such thing as the phrase "one crisis at a time" you worried about something that didn't happen yet or you didn't know if it was going to happen, and to top it all off, you thought if there was a solution when the only damn solution is to stop thinking about it.
Your brain was talking to you too much and that's why you overthought things. You were halfway through the series when your cell phone vibrated against the wooden surface of your desk next to your bed.
It was your friend who had sent a message. You grabbed your phone and lay back down. The screen of your phone lit up your face making your eyes narrow from the flash, you smiled as you read your friend's message.
You better be dressed up, I'll pick you up in 10 minutes, I don't take no for an answer
Does being in my pajamas work for you?
Don't fuck with me, let's go to a karaoke bar, I'll give you another 5 more minutes
You sighed when you read the last message.
You didn't know what to wear, you were thinking about a dress and a jacket but the day was very cool and you would probably freeze to death when you left your house. Your best bet was jeans that fit beautifully, black heeled boots that reached below the knee, and a black backless t-shirt and denim jacket.
As your friend promised, I'll arrive at the time she agreed for you. They arrived at the karaoke bar, which you had never been to, it was a good atmosphere, a central place with a lot of people. Inside was a place with blue, purple, yellow, and pink lights illuminating the place, and some warm lights so as not to overwhelm the view so much.
They were round tables, each one separate from the other, the stage was at the back of the place, it wasn't that deep, you could see the people from the entrance perfectly.There were 2 sections as one was karaoke and the other was a bar, but they were connected by the bar where you could turn around and see everyone on the other side.
Since the place was very popular, they had to enlarge the place, and some people who didn't enjoy being among the hustle and bustle so much went to the other end. There were people of all ages around. You walked inside the place and Katy Perry's roar song was playing all over the place.
Even if you didn't know how to sing well, people had fun, no one was judging, it was all laughter and shouting encouraging people to sing and dance.
They approached a table that was relatively in the center, and other girls they knew from college from another major were at the table. When you saw them you greeted each other happily, you took off your jacket and left it on the back of the chair, sat down and chatted for a moment before others got up to sing. You and your friend decided to go to the bar for drinks for all four of you.
"This place is sick" you said, looking around the place as you waited for drinks.
"I know, how come you've never come" she tapped her fingers on the dark wood
"You know I don't usually come this way"
"I'll have to get you out, you can find someone to have fun with"
"So you get them from here?" You said laughing mockingly
"Yes, but I get them from the other section"
They both turned to the front and saw a few men between 35 and forty-something, up to 50. You could see them coming in and out of the bar, many of them were looking at karaoke.
"So you're going to that section just for that?" You looked at her and she laughed slightly
"I use the bathroom too" you both laughed.
They returned to the table with the drinks. Time passed slowly, the atmosphere was so good that the four of them got carried away and drank a little more, but since you were not used to drinking your friends held it better than you without a doubt. You laughed, sang and danced like everyone else in the room.
You were so gone that you didn't know that one of your friends had put them on the list to go up and sing.
"It's going to be our turn" the redhead said, drinking from her glass.
"What for?" you said, wiping the drink residue from your lips.
"we´re gonna sing buddy!" the blonde said screaming as she got up from her seat.
If you had been in your 5 senses you would be nervous, dying of anxiety, resisting but since you were under the influence of alcohol, you stood up dancing. You didn't think of anything, you didn't rush for a moment, you decided it was your time, you felt good, it was in the air so, why not?
They were passing by the tables when they were called.
"The next group will sing, a round of applause for these beautiful ladies" Applause and some whistles were present when they took the stage.
..............................
"You guys said it would be a bar, not this place," Joel said as he wrinkled his nose.
"Come on men, this place is amazing"
"and let's not forget that you can find beauties here"
Joel had gone to the same karaoke/bar with his friends, they had been to that place many times, Joel let´s say he was not a fan of karaoke.
They came in and heard applause and whistles from the people. The place was a little more crowded when he arrived, they went to the bar next to the karaoke and sat on the closest stools they could find.
"We have a good view tonight," said one of his friends who, like him, was a teacher, only he was a medical teacher.
They ordered their drinks, and before they could start talking, the melody of a song began to play.
"It's not the one they dedicated to you, doctor," he said with a laugh as Joel joined in.
"At least I had a reaction from a woman, tell me what you got?" he laughed
"Two beautiful children" he looked into his eyes
"crikey" Joel said, drinking from the bottle
You and your friends started singing, and Joel still didn't realize that two girls on stage were his students.
"I told them I wouldn't have as much time in class since I'd be doing work somewhere else" the doctor said, sipping from his beer bottle.
"Then you won't teach at the university anymore?" said Joel as he held the spout of the bottle.
"I think I have better opportunities in the other place, honestly it's overwhelming"
"overwhelming?" said the other "It's overwhelming to have kids, and a shitty job that pays the minimum monthly, plus you get the best, you can see beautiful and young girls without commitment"
The doctor and Joel looked at each other, shaking their heads, smiling.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you friend but… I don't work in that place for the girls" he said, shaking his head as he looked up at the stage,
"Joel?"
"No, I'm sorry, I don't either" he rub both palms into his jeans.
"you´re both idiots, you could be with whoever you wanted" he grabbed his beer and pointed to the singing girls.
"¡Carve my name into his leather seats!" the redhead sang at the top of her lungs.
"Just an example, imagine that those girls are your students, wouldn't you notice them?"
Both men turned to the stage, the doctor made a face and turned to look at him, while Joel cocked his head, observed and recognized one, your friend who did the chorus and danced, he laughed, and of the other 3 he was amazed when he saw you, he focused his eyes thinking if it was really you or was he hallucinating.
'is that…'
"Why do you keep thinking that?" said the doctor, tapping his friend's shoulder.
"I'm just saying, it's hypothetical" he looked at Joel and laughed "I think Joel did like the idea"
They both looked at Joel and he pointed his finger at both of you
"those two are my students" the two of them turned to see who he was referring to and made a surprised face, more than anything when they saw how one of them, I mean you, had your eyes narrowed trying to read the lyrics but without losing your style.
"Slash a hole in all four tires, maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats" You sang while hugging your friend.
"Are they your students? On a Sunday night, they'll be with a good hangover"
"da bomb" said the doctor raising his bottle in the direction of you toasting
"they won't be my problem tomorrow" said Joel laughing without taking his eyes off you when he saw your funny expressions and trying to concentrate on the lyrics.
When they finished singing, the audience applauded and whistled. They came down from the stage smiling and cheering each other on.
For your part, it had been an ecstasy of emotions, you were sweating from your forehead from so much dancing. They walked to their table and they all fell tired while laughing.
"That was incredible" shouted the blonde
"it was" said your friend drinking from her glass
"Shit, I'm sorry girls but I have to go to the bathroom" you said standing up, your friend got up too
"I'll go with you"
You both walked to the bathrooms on the side of the bar, a few glances turned to you. When I came out already refreshed, they were going through the bar when you got dizzy and stopped.
"Dizziness" you laughed lightly, leaning back on a bench that was alone.
"You've had a lot to drink, let me ask you for a water" your friend said as she asked for the bottle.
"Damn, that man is so cute" you murmured, taking the bottle that your friend held out already opened.
Your friend turned to see who you were referring to and her eyes almost popped out at who it was.
"Is that your boyfriend" she elbowed you and you frowned, confused,
"boyfriend?" you wrinkled your nose looking at her.
"Mr. Miller," she turned to look at you while smiling
"Shit" you muttered while squinting to get a better look
"It certainly looks good in casual clothes" your friend mentioned, looking at it the same way.
You got up and walked over to where he was, slowly approached with your friend behind you and raised your hand greeting him from afar, he smiled nervously at you.
"Mr. Miller!" you said excitedly, smiling at him.
"Hey you" he laughed when he saw you
"what a coincidence, professor" your friend said as she looked at the other two men.
"Shouldn't you be in bed at this hour?" said Joel, wanting to sound serious but failed to see you looking him up and down.
"Oh my God, I just found my father" your friend said sarcastically and you couldn't help but laugh.
"We just wanted to get closer and say…" You took a breath and looked at him "you look great tonight, Mr. Miller" You smiled, cocking your head and blinking. "You look very lonely, do you need company?"
Joel took a big breath and exhaled while laughing
"thanks for the compliment...and I'm not alone" he looked at his friends with a closed-lip smile and they just held back their laughter.
"Well… They're not going to know how to beg for it so..." you bit your lip.
"Okay, see you at the college Mr. Miller" your friend pulled you by the arm. You left laughing on the way to the table and your friend did the same.
"You're crazy" she said as you both sat down.
"Who's crazy?" said the blonde.
"She" pointed at you with her eyes "She dared to hint to our professor"
"Is your teacher here?" The blonde narrowed her eyes
"Wow, she's drunk" said the redhead, eating from the tortilla chips
They all laughed, you told them a little about your little crush, you pointed them out from afar, he was still at the bar with his friends, while you watched him talk animatedly.
From Joel's perspective, he found the way you expressed yourself very funny, you didn't hesitate to say what you thought, he liked it, you seemed like a totally different person from the girl he is used to seeing, quiet, reserved, shy, respectful and above all introverted, with a gentle and sweet look. The girl he saw through his eyes was someone else, but he didn't dislike it, he saw in you a girl who knows how to have fun, without care, flowing with the environment, being herself and not afraid to express whatever is on the tip of her tongue.
....................
Monday.
You cursed the moment you thought it would be a great idea to drink alcohol, until you were knocked unconscious in your friend's car. You'd beat yourself mentally while you were in the bathroom complaining about the migraine you had, while wiping your mouth with water.
"Shit, I can't stand it" You held your forehead with the palm of your hand as you came out of the bathroom.
You didn't want to go to the first hour, your head was exploding and you hadn't found any pills in your entire house, and on top of all that, you had an empty stomach.
You stared at the classroom door, debating whether or not to enter.
"Mmh" you stood in the hallway.
You thought about your options, and you thought it would be a good excuse to go to Ava and ask her for a migraine pill. You walked into the teachers' offices, visualized Ava's door but knocked and got no answer, and remembered that she was arriving a little later, after 8.
You saw the doors of some teachers and administrators open, but you didn't know any of them, you had no choice but to walk to the end of the hallway. You saw the door open and peeked out. He had his back to the door, as you would suppose he was pouring himself his coffee. You knocked twice on the door to get his attention. He turned around and was surprised.
"Good morning," he said hoarsely as he looked at you with a frown.
"Good morning" you said, poking out your whole body and standing at the door.
"Come in, tell me how I can help you" he put the cup down from under the coffee maker and rubbed his palms on his pants.
"Sorry for bothering so early," you winced.
God can't stand even my own voice.
"You're not a nuisance, tell me," he walked over to the coffee pot, looking at the cup.
"I wanted to know if you didn't have a migraine pill" The way you said it was so soft and silent that he turn to look at you with concern.
"Are you okay?" he walked over to a drawer of his desk and looked inside as he put on his glasses and looked at you on them.
"No, I feel like my head is exploding.
They were silent as he rummaged through the drawer. You saw how he picked up a box, opened it, and pulled a pill out of the wrapper.
"Here, it's Dexketoprofen, it'll help you better than an aspirin" You held out the palm of your hand and he placed it in it.
Without saying anything, he handed you a bottle of water.
"Thank you"
You were about to put it in your mouth when its voice interrupted you.
"Have you eaten anything yet?" he looked at you with a worried countenance.
"amm… No" you said sadly, watching as his left hand rummaged through his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and spoke.
"I'll go get you something, sit down, you must have something in your stomach before you take it."
You sat in the olive green armchair waiting for him. It wasn't long before he walked in the door, you looked at him and his hands left some crackers and an orange on the table. You gawked at things.
"I'll make you a green tea, okay" his voice sounded calmer and softer.
You saw how he went straight to the hot water that he kept in a different coffee pot and poured the water into a cup, took the sack out of the wrapper and plunged it into the water.
You were too tired and sore to say anything. A little attention doesn't hurt.
You didn't know why he was being so helpful, you weren't his responsibility after all. You saw him worried about you, maybe he felt sorry that you were so bad, you felt that you smelled sick and that disgusted you. You felt embarrassed that he saw you like that, you felt so horrible that you didn't want anyone to see you, but he was helping you, being so helpful, you didn't know how that made him twice as attractive.
You saw him come to your side with a cup in his hand. You drank, ate, and took the pill he gave you to relieve the pain in your head.
You felt powerless, you felt weak. It was anything but funny, being locked up with him in his office, smelling of perfume, soap fresh out of the shower, and the essence of coffee, while you smelled of medicine, tea, sick person and vomit for sure.
While he was looking at you with those big brown eyes of his. Her lips parted trying to find words to make you feel better. He was as presentable as ever, his hair fresh and slicked back. The shower hadn't helped you much, it just gave you the power to come to school but you couldn't stand being in it anymore… Not even having set foot in the classroom.
"You need to be careful with alcohol," you looked at him and sighed heavily, "if you can't handle it, don't drink," this time it sounded more demanding.
"Well… You're no one to tell me how much to drink" you looked at him with crooked eyebrows "it's my responsibility"
He nodded, "I know you can be responsible, you're a big girl after all, aren't you?"
You just rolled your eyes back and snorted, drinking the last of the tea. You put the cup down on the coffee table and looked at it.
"Thank you for… This," you pointed to the leftovers in front of you.
"Anything for my favorite student" You looked at him a mocking smile appeared on his face, which made you let out a small laugh mocking sarcastically.
It was a challenge to be around him, he made you feel so small at times, so vulnerable, so loved and damn needy. And sometimes stupid.
You smiled shyly at him as you said goodbye. You got up and in doing so you got dizzy. He reflexively grabbed you by the waist and by your arm, you grabbed his shoulders for support. You closed your eyes and breathed trying to get back to your posture, when you opened them you saw him in front of you, close to you.
He looked at you worriedly, you're sure he asked you if you were okay, but you were gone, it was the closest you'd ever been. He looked at your face to see if you gave any signs, while your thoughts desired something else.
You thought this was your chance, maybe this was the right moment, maybe finding yourself sick in his office was meant to be. You could have thought twice but you didn't, it was now or never.
You looked him in the eye and looked at his lips. He was looking at you confused, maybe you were about to faint and he was still holding you up without doing anything else.
You felt so close to the moment when you felt a hot liquid from the back of your throat rise, burning your windpipe, vocal cords and reaching your roof of your mouth in a matter of seconds. You felt like it was an explosion that came out of your mouth, you didn't want to open your eyes, your gaze was down. Whatever came out of your mouth, it was all over him, his clothes, shoes… You could even feel it on your face, you could feel traces of it on the edges of your lips. But you prayed he wouldn't have a trace on his face. You swallowed hard and heard his voice.
"I think… You must take the pill again."
Fucking hell. Swallow me.
Thanks to Bard's artificial intelligence for giving me insight into the topics of physiological anthropology. we love imagining Joel teaching and being damn smart. Thank you for your support, it means a lot to me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it, tell me what you thought and what you would like to see in this controversial "relationship".
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yandere-loveer · 8 months
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Hi uhm firt request so this may be a little all over the place and I apologize for that but could you do aa yandere prune juice cookie it can be as hardcore or soft as you like I just feel like he is very underrated yandere wise
✶﹐✨️﹒yandere prune juice cookie concept!
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✶﹒┊I find this request curious, really. I feel like this character deserves more recognition and more potential to be a yandere.
✶﹒┊Warnings: Forced relationship, obsession, manipulation, stalking, unhealthy jealousy, yandere, reader!fem
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★﹒This one is really unfortunate, but we love him.
★ ﹒His personality is difficult to deal with, since he is somewhat egocentric or also try to socialize more deeply with this cookie. He is mostly dedicating his time to making his potions and no one bothers him, that's clear.
★﹒In order to meet him, we have to think of two simple situations that first you should be in the same institute or if you are in one of the other institutes you were able to meet him at the big Triple Cone Cup event. But if we are guided by the first option, there may be a lot.
★ ﹒And God, how did you get the attention of this cookie? .... The truth is, he has a somewhat high ego, what you could do was raise it further with your words of admiration when you saw his skills when creating potions. Also if at one point they become closer make it feel enough. What if he is someone without his potions.
★ ﹒His infatuation with him towards you is not immediate, it takes time until he realizes that your company is not annoying like that of other cookies.
★﹒I can tell you that every time time passes your infatuation becomes an obsession that is sick and suffocating. You can tell when you talk to the other students at the institute.
★ ﹒When you talk to someone, you can feel Prune Juice's gaze from far away while he sold his potions to one of the students. And when he gets angry it's not pretty, his eyes can be seen better and he doesn't transmit any good vibes.
★ ﹒But he doesn't show his emotions that much about it, so at least he doesn't take it out on you but on the other cookie you talked about at that time.
★ ﹒You can tell if he has a cute side that if you have an outing together he is very detailed, calculating and careful. That's why he demonstrates it at the event. But if you're going to have a good time with him.
★ ﹒It is also believed that he is someone who is manipulative when he wants to generate trust, he uses that with you and one of the cookies of which one you have a friendship with. I see that little by little it makes you generate insecurity regarding your friendships because of the words of Prune Juice Cookie.
★ ﹒If he has to eliminate someone he will always use his potions at every moment of the day, so when it is something dark he may use manipulation to attract said cookie that is related to you and if he drinks his potions without seeing . I assure you that you will not see that cookie again. That's good, there's more time for Prune Juice and you admire his skills!
★ ﹒I think I could still create enough time to stalk you and see how you are despite being so focused on his potions and see that they never lack it. But you are an exception to him and look away from him to his talent to see you.
★ ﹒But I don't see it possible for him to resort to murder, he uses his intelligence more to obtain what he needs. I also don't see it possible with the issue of kidnapping you to have you by his side, it would be suspicious if you disappeared, but the idea seems tempting...
★ ﹒Maybe I don't think he can do much about the kidnapping, if he can knock you unconscious and everything. But that can apply some physical force and he's not that strong of a cookie. But it is his hands when mixing to create his potions.
★ ﹒I see a somewhat absurd but fun situation to keep you by his side if we leave aside the manipulation. I think he could create a potion especially so that you have his eyes on him and don't think about others, he would love how you would look at him with eyes full of love like he has for you.
★ ﹒Unfortunately his only obstacle later if we talk after the Triple Cone Cup event, his new friends can see his not so normal love. But he's going to fix it. He doesn't want to let you go, so worship him, appreciate him and spend time with him making potions together!
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phoeebsbuffay · 1 year
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Imagine you are Hayden Christensen's closest friend from college and you help him going through his divorce. Will friendship be enough for either of you? Based on the request made by @calzone-d ...
Warnings: *long post*, drama, explicit smut, fluffy endings.
Recommendations: "Summertime Sadness", "Ride", by Lana Del Rey; “Scared to be Lonely” by Dua Lipa; “Here with me”, by the Killers; “Always” by Gavin James.
***
How it started...
You were 19 years old when you finally got the chance to study cinema at Y/C's university. An old dream you had, to be able to transmit onscreen all your ideas. Your family encouraged you to pursuit the academy of arts in order to become an actress, but you thought yourself too introspective to act.
Well, here you were when you met him. The one who was destined to remain a principal figure in your life over the years. Taking acting classes--well, you did need to study it anyway--you bumped into Hayden Christensen.
"Excuse me", he said to you, a little out of breath.."Is this the acting class with Miss H/N? I fear I am slightly late..."
You remembered finding his blue eyes the handsomest pair of eyes you ever came across with: they were intense, secretive, but friendly too, somewhat emotional. You were instantly captivated.
"Yes, it is. And you are not in the slightest late, young man, but /very/ late indeed. Come in, take your seat, I'll have you updated..."
He gives you a long gaze, relieved for being saved from a bigger trouble—and you can tell he is a freshman like you.
“My name is Y/N”, you side smirk at him.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I am Hayden.”
You both shake hands. Something ignites within, but you think it’s because he has such a good aura…
*
“You are such a great actress!”, he is telling you, so many months later. “Quit with the production, you are better than me in decorating the lines.”
You grimace, which makes him laugh. The sound of his laughter is so comforting, like this call to your home.
“I don’t like this acting thing”, you dismiss his compliments nonchalantly. Today, you are in a cafeteria, celebrating the end of another semester. One more to go and you will be ready to keep up with your lives, though you and Hayden had vowed to each other never to be apart. “I feel more comfortable behind the cameras. By the way, I just had this idea!”
And then you lean to him, ready to shake him by his shoulders. He nearly chokes with his coke—but then laughing as always because your impulsiveness often brings him to laughters.
“For the love of God, woman. Do you want to see me dead before the time?”
You side smirk, silently apologizing with your puppy eyes. Hayden smiles back, before encouraging with what you had to say with only a nod. As you do, he seems to suddenly notice how nice your hair looks this day.
“I just had the greatest idea ever! I could film your audition and send to George Lucas. The Star Wars director is looking for someone of our age to portray young Anakin Skywalker. You know, before he becomes Darth Vader, of course.”
Hayden is taken aback by what you tell him. You can see the mix of sentiments that rises behind his blue eyes: insecurity, suspicious before reasoning to excitement.
“What? Are you for real, Y/N? How come did you hear about it? I mean…”
You tell him how your internship led you to it. This is how the fun begins, how both of you in fact begin your career.
*
You are there in every moment of his life: when Hayden has to conciliate his last semester with the filming of “Episode II: Attack of the Clones”, when he tells you that he and his on-screen romantic pair are having a thing.
He is also present at your graduation, the moment when you begin to transit to adulthood. What about it when you get yourself drunk for the very first time?
He is there too.
“I hate the taste of alcohol”, you grumble, unsure how come you are at his couch. “It aches my stomach, makes me sick.”
Hayden chuckles at how all of a suddenly you turn into these kind of discoveries after spending five years in college doing nothing but well behaving. However, due to such a strong bond you two share, he takes care of you.
“This is the moment where I tell you something you told me once: better to put out than to swallow all in.”
You raise your face, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Did you just hear yourself?!”
“Wasn’t that what you told me?”
“No!”, you laugh hard at his remark. “Oh my God, H!”
He chuckles after you.
“Well, it did make you laugh, didn’t it?”
***
• The subtle changes…
You are single again. Your ex dumped you. Coincidently, Hayden is single as well. He’s also been going through a difficult phase in his life after all the critics coming from the fans of “Star Wars”. “Episode III” of the franchise didn’t go that well and even though it’s been a year since it’s release, he’s still affected by it.
“We’ve been through so much together”, Hayden tells you one day. “We should definitely do something new for a change.”
“I agree”, you sigh. Currently unemployed, you haven’t been yourself lately either. “Any thoughts?”
“A good journey would do us well. Let us go to Scotland”, so he says, excited. “Come on, Y/N. I’ll let you drive!”
You chuckle at his old tendency to be so reckless. And you do so because you can’t refuse him anything. A bad omen you clearly ignore, of course.
“Very well. When should we do this trip?”
But why’d you bother to ask when you know the answer? Hayden smiles warmly at him.
Oh that damn smile…
“Tomorrow. I’ve already bought the tickets and booked the hotel.”
You scoff at him, offended.
“What? Why? Are you taking me for granted, Christensen? For the love of God…”
Just like that he lifts you up and throws you over his shoulder, smiling as you scream out of surprise. As he puts you down, Hayden messes with your hair, delighted when seeing he’s the reason of your amusement.
And he realizes this is a nice view to contemplate: the sight of your smile, the sound of your laughters, the joy that sparks in your eyes… Seeing you like this makes him genuinely smile in his turn and forget about his bad phase.
But he doesn’t realize that this may mean something else. Or perhaps he doesn’t want to. It’s been years now since you and him became the closest of the friends, so what if all of this is just the result of genuine admiration from one friend to the other?
Regardless, he’s going to take you with him to Scotland. And so you go with him… It is wild to consider how you are usually all straight, not doing nothing that goes out the line all the whilst Hayden is more prompted to take chances and live the present quite intently.
On that fact you blame him being very aries all the whilst you, as taurus lady, prefer to know where you are going. However, he makes life so interesting that even you, as already observed, cannot deny him anything.
So here you are now at Edinburgh.
“I love everything that is medieval”, you tell him excitedly with a spark in your eyes that makes Hayden smile. He does like when you speak passionately about the things you are interested. “I cannot believe I took so long to come here!”
“Yeah, me neither!”
It is a good time to be alive, both of you agree. The landscape is seductive, peaceful, traits much sought after such a bad period you both went through. People too are kind, albeit reserved, but very pleasant.
Those days are being built in your memory as something great to be remembered, but perhaps there is just more that neither seem too attentive…
“Lady, one bedroom with two beds”, asks Hayden, when you got to London eventually because he, of course, is a man who plans very little—much to your distress, the woman who likes everything settled.
But this is not any hotel, but a fanciful one. The said lady looks at him pitifully.
“Mr Christensen, my apologies, but there is only a suite with one bed.”
You two blush, but Hayden somehow doesn’t mind it. This is when you realize you not only don’t mind it but you also want it…badly. Perhaps that’s why you sabotage it.
“You know what? Let’s make it for another day. Come now, Hayden. Thank you”, you blurt out, pushing him outside.
“What the hell was that?”, he frowns at you. “Y/N, what’s wrong with sharing a bed? Do you honestly think anything would happen or what?”
He doesn’t realize his words hurt you, but in truth there is more than his subtle frustration at your refusal allows him to admit. There is an unspoken rising desire between you.
And of course you have to ruin everything.
“I just… please don’t be upset! It’s because I cannot afford it and…” and you tell him the other reason for it, which appeases his anger and is more palpable than you’d care to admit: you are expecting an interview.
Hayden softens, naturally, but you know he’s changed. You hate it because you know why. There are so many things that suddenly rise in your throat but they die choked.
Somehow Hayden knows it too. But he chickens away. He hugs you instead, not willing to lose his best friend.
“I’m sorry for being such an impulsive jackass. But we did have a great time, didn’t we?”
Oh but if only you knew what waits for you back to US…
***
• The marriage
Here you are, dressed in yellow, standing as a maid in honor for the bride and groom. Your heart breaks because you realize a little too late that you are in love with your best friend.
Worse is: had you accepted to share one bed with Hayden in London, everything would be different. Yeah, you may not have gotten that job as a producer of that movie, but Hayden wouldn’t meet Rachel Bilson.
Nonetheless, here you are. Celebrating their vows, wondering if you could be there for a moment, what would be like if you were her.
“Hey, Y/Nickname!”, Hayden exclaims after the ceremony is over. He is wearing his gorgeous smile and dressed in fanciful robes, which all highlights his handsomeness. But you have learned to bury everything deep inside your heart. A secret that you’d take to your grave.
“I can’t believe you are married, Hay!”, you giggle when you greet him with a tight embrace. “I’m so happy for you! Oh my God, look how grown up you are!”
He laughs quietly.
“I know right? Who’d ever thought? The idea of marriage was hardly ever entertained for me”, so he says.
“Oh right! As I told Rachel once, I do have recollections of your drunkenness state and all that came between”, you laugh too, remembering the first time he had a hangover.
“What a time to be alive”, says Hayden in his typical good mood.
As you speak, you do seem to come to terms that if he is happy, so are you. You are at peace with it at long last. Hayden, on his turn, for a time seems to have suspected that you harbored feelings for him. But he always ignored it for the sake of your friendship. Now seeing how genuinely happy you are for him, certainly he believes it was all a thing of his head.
But why does he have a bittersweet taste of it?
“Could you introduce me to that man over there?” You nudge his sides, pointing to a handsome man that is not very far from Rachel herself.
Hayden raises an eyebrow.
“Really, now, Y/N?”
“You don’t expect me to be a nun, do you?”
He chuckles.
“Well I don’t want to see you get hurt, is all…”
Quite unwillingly, though, he leads the way. And maybe the night will not end that bad for you, after all.
***
•The divorce and the consequences…
In fact, looking back now it was really a great job pushing Hayden to introduce the guy to you because he ended up becoming your boyfriend.
This new relationship of yours, however, changed the dynamics of your friendship with Hayden for some time—but maybe it was all because he was living a different life now, becoming a father in the process.
A few years rolled upon, though, when everything started to fall apart—for you and Hayden. You found out that your new relationship was damaged because you and your boyfriend were scared to be lonely. A crisis developed to fights, to exchange of words that only broke hearts.
In the meantime, Hayden realized how long he missed his best friend. His own marriage started to fall apart, but the more it broke down, the more he needed you again.
Was it a selfish wish to have you by his side? Such questionings never reached you out due to his pride, that masked his hurt. Perhaps he was only scared to be lonely too. He could deal with it himself.
Nonetheless, destiny—the same destiny that pushed one from the other—is about to bring you two together again. One call and your night would be different.
You are single now, ready to go out that night with your girlfriends when suddenly a phone call startles you. It’s Hayden. Your heart races: he hasn’t been the one to call, and hasn’t done so for a long while.
“Hey, H. How are you? Haven’t heard of you for some time. Is everything ok?”, you ask, concerned.
There is a pause that accelerates your heart. You know he is not well. Before he answers, you immediately add:
“I’ll be in your home in a few minutes.”
“I’ll give you the new address. I’m not living with Rachel anymore: we got divorced.”
You are stunned upon those words. Now your silence leaves Hayden uncomfortable. He breaks it by saying:
“Y/Nickname? Are you there?”
“Yes, honey, I am. I’m so sorry, Hay. Please stay there… I’ll be on my way.”
He chuckles.
“Where else would I go to?”
In a matter of minutes, after requesting an Uber, you, dressed the way you are, arrive to his new home. Hayden side smirks when seeing you, though how he eyes you up and down makes you blush lightly.
“Wow, Y/N. Looking hot, aren’t you?”, he laughs when seeing the pink painting your cheeks, hugging you tight when receiving you. “Please tell me I didn’t ruin your night.”
You slap his shoulder playfully, eyes rolling at his drama.
“Don’t say bullshit to me, Christensen. I just wish I knew it properly before. I hope you don’t mind me looking like this.”
“You have always been a distraction to my eyes”, he teases you, pleased to see nothing has really changed between the two of you. “We need some wine, it’s not really a warming night, I suppose.”
As you look into his new apartment, he promptly gets the best wine to serve you. Without your knowledge, Hayden’s eyes follow your moves: noticing your y/c hair is now on your shoulders, how vivid your eyes are, remaining as observing and curious as before.
He cannot help admiring you physically too: though this is a cold night and you are dressed accordingly, when you drop your black coat on his coach, he sees your warming blouse shows some skin.
Indeed, Y/N, looking as hot and beautiful as always. Such is his thought.
He never really told you but Rachel was jealous of you. According to her, she could see you harbored feelings for him and part of her feared Hayden would correspond. Nonsense, he’d tell her.
But now, was she really so wrong? Yet, another and more important question he asks himself is: how could have he let go of you? Not only about matters of sentimentalism, but you’ve been an important piece of his life.
Seeing you back hurts his heart because he now sees the stupidity in letting go of you. He wishes he could have asked you to wait for him, to never let go of you. But this is such a state of complex selfishness that he quiets his internal riot and puts a smile on his lips when bringing the two of you the best wine he has, aware you prefer the sweet ones.
“I was admiring your new apartment”, you tell him, smiling in thanks as he passes you a full glass. “Whoa, looks like we are having a full drinking night, aren’t we? Christensen, I am not that young anymore. Not sure I am prepared to have a full hangover again.”
Hayden cracks loud and the sound of his laughters makes your heart skip a beat. Nothing feels different, you think, pleased.
“I’m bringing us something to eat, silly head. Besides I’ve always taken care of you, right?”
“That is true”, you agree. “But what are we having to eat today?”
“Always hungry, eh?”, he teases you.
You shrug playfully before saying:
“What can I do? I am a Taurus, you know it!”
He rolls his eyes, laughing loud again at your remarks—and that sound has always made your heart race, hasn’t it?
“Not with that astrology nonsense again!”
You slap his arm playfully before joining him in chuckles.
“Always with that astrology nonsense, silly.”
It is not until pizza is brought to you that the serious conversation is finally there.
“So what happened, Hayden?”, you ask him softly.
He sighs heavily, avoiding your gaze. He is silent, but you are patient, giving some time, for which he appreciates it.
“How often do we fall for the idea our minds make of the person?”, says he, sounding frustrated. “Not rarely we come to romantic ideas of marriage that break before the crude reality, you know? It’s not just about being different, Y/N, it’s… the commitment, I suppose, in making everything right. Turns out we had very different ideas of making it right.”
“I’m sorry, Hay. I really am”, you speak gently, taking his hand to yours, realizing how broken he is makes your heart sensitive to his pain.
He appreciates it, but when feeling your skin against him, Hayden is remembered the days before he met Rachel. The way he made you smile, the jokes that brought him to laughters. How easily it was to be around you, how you softened him. He, who was never a sentimental man, hugged you more times than he realized.
But Hayden sweeps away such memories.
“I am too. But I am fine now”, he shrugs. “I mean, not entirely recovered, but better than being broken.”
“Take your time, it’s the best you can do. How long has it been going on?”
Hayden hesitates but says:
“Six months.”
Your eyes go wide and your voice comes louder than expected:
“YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH A DIVORCE SIX MONTHS AGO?”
At least he has the decency to blush.
“Hayden! How could you keep me in secret for such a long time?!”
You’d remove his hand but Hayden doesn’t let you to. Pulling you to his side, he says, almost in a tone of desperation:
“I thought I could handle this by myself”, he explains. “I really didn’t want to bother you…”
Perhaps it’s the wine, but your tongue runs loose with words that have long been choked in your throat.
“And what am I to you? A second option, a plan B that didn’t work out? You’ve kicked me out of your life, Hayden. You’ve never called me to ask me if I was doing ok!”
He gives you a painful look that makes you regret instantly of what you said. You’d think he let go of you and a fight would come—this happened once when both of you were drunk, though by then you were both silly and immature.
“I’ve got a war in my mind for a long while”, he exclaims, holding your wrist and he pulls you even closer to him. “I was fucking stupid, I screwed it, I know. But never would I kick you out of my heart, Y/N! And I… I’m sorry I was fucking blinded by my pain. But only because I feared to hurt you.”
You await for his burst to end, very familiar with his intensity—but when his blue eyes search for yours, your soul is denuded.
Oh fuck.
“I stepped away because he was a douchebag”, he proceeds. “You deserved better than such a man, Y/N. I’ve heard of his doings but I couldn’t reach you out when… when I was in the mid of a crisis myself.”
“You’ve always been too shut in yourself to let others in”, you sigh. “But what relation is there with the fact I was in a relationship?”
“You deserved better”, he says with greeted teeth, holding your face with his hands, both of you barely noticing how your bodies have been dancing dangerously close to each other. “You are still slow after all this time?”
You are shocked, perplexed by his words. You freeze. Hayden smiles slowly at your reaction.
“I feel it everywhere, nothing scares me anymore. I won’t let you go. Now now, not ever. Fuck, I married the wrong person. Heaven has always been my favourite place on Earth when I was with you.”
“You have always been the best”, you mumble incoherently.
Just like that your lips clash against his. In between fervent kisses, where he pulls you to his lap, no reason is admitted. Not anymore.
“I’ve missed you, Y/Nickname”, he groans against your lips. “Like the sun misses the moon.”
“Always the romantic”, you chew his bottom lip as your hands run over his hair, pulling it gently. “Don’t want your memories anymore. Fuck, Christensen, you took so long.”
“This is not a game, I swear”, he breaks the kiss to pursuit your skin, his tongue already on your neck as his hands hold your hips, making you feel his rigid pants.
“Oh Lord. My worst sin is to never be able to refuse you anything”, you hate how wine makes you speak your mind.
Raising his head to watch you intently, he messes with your hair before holding your chin, drawing you closer to him.
Oh that intensity that involves one to the other!
“Then make me a sinner too for giving you all that you deserve.”
You crawl over him, you know you do, when your tongue pursuits his, one pairs the other rhythmically, perfectly. And then he lies you there on the couch, hands already working to remove your pants.
His eyes are set on yours like that of a hunter about to capture his prey. He knows you are on fire and that he is the gasoline. You lean partly to remove his shirt, hands all over him. You gasp when feeling his muscles under your touch and you want more, but…
“Patience, Y/Nickname”, his voice is husky and domineering when laying you down again.
“Yes, Master”, you giggle softly, in such a state that makes you both smile to the other.
And just like that his hands find way to your thighs, gently parting before inserting one right there in your feminine parts, not really taking away your panties for such.
“Oh, God!” You moan sensually, enjoying his eyes on you as he works wonderfully on you. “This is better than I thought!”
“Is it?”, he groans softly in your ear. “How long have you been thinking about it, dear one?”
“For a long while! God knows how much…”, another moan breaks you, earning him a smirk. “Hayden…”
“Yeah?”
“I fucked him thinking about you”, you admit.
His eyes dart, his body shakes lightly with desire. Slowly moving on top of you, his moves increase intently, watching you with desire.
“Damned be you for never speaking your thoughts to me”, he lifts your blouse gently but you help him removing it. As he starts to kiss your neck down to your chest, your legs begin to get heavy at his tenderness. “You should have spoken it to me…”
“Never had I the courage to do so”, you moan, enjoying having his hand over your neck lightly as he bites down your bra, slowly removing it with his mouth.
“For you should. It would have spared us some time. I fucked her thinking of you too”, he admits it drunkly before burying his lips to your nipple, much to your delight.
Hayden ruins you and it’s better than you could have thought. You want him to yourself, to make him unspeakable things but it’s difficult to do or say anything when his lips are so occupied with each nipple, twirling his tongue around it, sucking and biting it.
The sounds in his living room go louder each time. You are brought to heaven, and only then you take control of yourself again.
“Hayden…”, you barely speak when he finishes with you.
You both are a puddle of mess when you, nude, sit over his lap. You share a drunk look, one filled with the darkest desires for so long muffled, now brought to light.
“Yes, babe?” He kisses your shoulders, groaning as you rub yourself against his hardness. “Will you forgive me for such a behavior?”
His words are barely heard when his head is thrown back because your skillful hands find way to his pants and remove it so soon.
You glance at his manhood, impressed by how it is when it’s this hard under your touch.
“You don’t deserve forgiveness”, you giggle softly as you start rubbing it, enjoying to feel the drip of it. “You should be punished.”
He holds back a gasp at your words. Now eyeing you, interested in your upcoming moves. And when you slide to your knees…
“Babe…”
“Yeah?”
One glance. Unspoken words fill the air. And you take with his mouth at long last, not stopping until you have it all down your throat.
“For God’s sake!”, he gasps. “I can’t wait any longer to have you with me!”
All gentleness is left aside when he helps you settle on his lips and he slides inside you. To feel him throbbing like this, going so hard in you makes you arch your back.
“This feels so good!”
His hands move down your back as his lips pursuit your skin, licking and taking every bit of you—though he does know how much you enjoy when he takes his time around your nipples, which he does graciously.
But it’s not until his eyes meet yours, sealing your lips as much as you seal your bodies together, that all is at long last truly consumed….
***
• Nowadays
In a sober state, everything is better appreciated. Hayden watches as you gleefully prepare breakfast. There is nothing but genuinely love in his eyes.
What had started as an explosion of sentiments for so long kept in secret has now flown to what should have always been: a genuine relationship. From friends to lovers. From lovers to something better.
He smiles, not now missing the lateness of his realization that you have always been the love of his life. He stands and moves to behind you, holding you close and smelling your scent as you prepare him some eggs.
“What? I’ve been sensing your eyes over me”, you giggle like a little girl. “Don’t get me weak again, Christensen. This is so not you.”
He turns you at him and holds your face between his hands.
“I love you, Y/Nickname.”
Hayden smiles wide when seeing a blush painting your cheeks. And he beams when you tell him the same.
“I love you too, H. Though I fear I love you more.”
“That is not true”, he protests in between laughters.
But before you fall into that old cliche you and him enjoy in secret intimacy, breakfast is ready. As you two enjoy that morning moment, it doesn’t strike as how many years have passed before you two achieved it at long last.
“I have news to tell”, says Hayden with a bright smile on his lips.
You rest your chin over your hands and say:
“Well? Tell me at once.”
He appreciates all the love that comes from you. The way you look at him, how genuinely you listen and help him in every moment, how kind you always are, how sincere you speak your heart out. So many virtues and even your flaws he appreciates.
There is so much love between the lines and out of them too.
“I was asked to play Anakin Skywalker again.”
And how fantastic you are as his soon to be wife when you jump in his arms excited with his news.
“That is awesome, my darling! I’m so happy for you!”
“A better start than I could have thought”, he admits, pulling you to sit on his lap.
“You deserve it all”, you brush your lips against his. “I love you, my heart.”
“I love you, my soul”, he whispers back.
And this is the ending you deserve.
***
•Epilogue…
When you show up dressed in red—from your full lips to your body—Hayden feels something rise in his chest.
“My God, you look gorgeous, Y/N…”, so he says mischievously when you show up after leaving him waiting for 30 minutes. “It was worth the time…”
You giggle, blushing lightly after all this time. Your hair is loose wavily, put on side as you wear the necklace and earrings Hayden gifted you in your birthday.
“Don’t be silly. Have they arrived yet?”
The occasion is to celebrate Hayden and Ewan’s series “Kenobi”. Hayden’s aforementioned friend said he was going to pick them up in a limo so they’d go all together.
“They are about to… which leaves us a few minutes”, he places right behind you, holding your waist tightly.
“Hayden… It took me some time to get properly dressed. Besides, I…” you get lost at your words when he starts kissing your neck and his hands move up and down your back.
“What are you trying to say?”
Hayden smirks, enjoying the effect he has over you. It’s been some good years since you got together, but even now he manages to get you speechless.
“I…”
Your mind goes blank when he turns you to the mirror and see the naughty look that rests in those blue eyes. His hands move to your breasts, playing with your nipples before slowly exposing them.
“Hayden… they are….” You moan softly, struggling to keep your composure.
He turns you now against the wall of your bathroom, mouth dropping to your full chest all the whilst his hands move to your thighs.
“Hmm”, he sings softly, humming against your skin. “Hot as hell, wife.”
You try not to fall from your heels.
“Hayden!” You cry out when his fingers find all the way to you.
“You get your man on knees every single time. Getting me overzealous, uh?”, he smirks when going to his knees. “All wet for me, honey? Let me taste you thus…”
You are almost ruined as he does so, his tongue in you the way you want him to. You forget yourself, forget the reason why this expensive gown you bought three months ago was quite difficult to dress—precisely why you’d want to tell him by the end of the night.
You forget your state, you forget you should be checking time before your friends arrive. There is nothing to remember as he fucks you with his tongue deliciously until you are about to come undone…
Just like that he lifts your thighs and before you complain, he slides his manhood within, fucking you slowly and pleasantly.
“Oh God!” You scream but he has to quiet your sounds, especially because… the bell is rang.
“That was quick”, he manages to say breathlessly as he rushes to keep himself recomposed.
You giggle, suddenly shy as you do the same.
“Indeed…”
Hayden finds you adorable and peppers kisses around your face.
“They can wait a little. I thought you wanted to say something… you know, before…”
You two share a giggle and he smiles when you bury your face in his shoulder.
“I… I am pregnant, H.”
He hugs you closer. What a night, what a life with you is. Hayden Christensen could not have been any happier…
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a-boca-do-inferno · 2 years
Text
i look at you and i see nothing, part 1 (michael corleone x reader)
part 2
summary: Nothing held you here but helpless, unyielding love. 
warnings: angst, abuse, violence, slight gaslighting, swearing, songfic-ish
words: 2.1k
notes: this is loosely based on fade into you by mazzy star.
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The more you thought about it, the more you were certain; slowly but surely, things changed and there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. Who once transmitted peace and security now was but a constant threat, cornering you whenever he was around. You had no idea what actions led you both here and at times it felt like a nightmare you just couldn’t wake up from, how terrifying was the feeling of not recognizing someone who used to be your best friend. And yet, there was in you still some sordid hope you could change the petrified heart crushing you every day.  
Nothing held you here but helpless, unyielding love. 
Hours passed and that thought was only clearer in your mind. Who could’ve imagined, from respectable Mrs. Corleone to this disposable thing? He didn’t care about you any longer and it was plain for everyone to see, as he didn’t try to hide it either. You’d begun to wonder if he ever did anyway, looking back at your first years together. While opening up to you, his behaviour often came off as too mechanic, orchestrated in a way. And no matter how much you wanted to think otherwise, Michael didn’t really fool you for one second. He is now as he always was deep down, and trying to urge him to ever change would be a losing battle. If only you’d known that sooner. 
“Won’t you eat your food?”, his sober tone pulls you back to reality. 
You avoid his haunting glance. “I’m not hungry.” 
Cornered like a lion’s prey. Your eyes wandered the room in a tireless quest for relief, perhaps to try and get out of that moment if only for mere seconds, while his remained at your figure almost unblinking. It was as though ice burned your skin when he simply stared you up and down, betraying no emotion on his features. Even so, he clearly wasn’t pleased; you could tell that much. But Michael wasn’t mad because you weren’t eating, of course. As if he’d care. No, he was more concerned with the people around eventually noticing the heavy cloud of tenseness hovering over your table. God forbid you’d do anything to somehow shatter his pose in public.  
“Are you not enjoying yourself, (y/n)?”, he inquires, joining his hands on his lap. It seemed like he was always trying to intimidate you somewhat, similarly to how he did with his enemies or henchmen.  
You felt uneasy, but faintly smiled nonetheless. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” 
“You should’ve told me that before we went out.” 
“I didn’t want to spoil the night for you”, there was sincerity in your words, although he apparently interpreted it as sarcasm. You shook your head slightly over his displeased look. “I mean it, Michael. I wouldn’t want to come between you and your work.” 
“This isn’t work, (y/n)”, he states, sickly natural. 
You allowed yourself to laugh bitterly, sipping at your glass of wine. “Oh, but it is. There’s no need for fairy tales when it’s just the two of us, we’re all adults here.” 
He only nodded once, as if he’d understood everything from your last sentence. But he hadn’t, you knew he hadn’t. He couldn’t, because he didn’t think you were intelligent enough to have figured it out on your own, so in his mind you were probably just creating some drama to have an argument later on. And just like you’d anticipated, he raised his hand to ask for the check, his cold gaze falling on you once again. 
“We’ll talk about it at home.” 
You felt like you had walked into the middle of a shooting and all guns were now pointed at you. There was no one to whom you could ask for help and for some, you didn’t even need to. You weren’t trapped. But then, why did these fancy, dark suits scolding you around only remind you of walls? 
The ride home was unpleasant, as was the dinner, as was the moment he stepped into your house and ordered you to wait for him in his office. It was past nine and you felt unexplainably cold, hugging your own body as you made your way to the seat in the corner. You stared at Michael’s armchair and heavily sighed, unable to control the feeling of disgust growing inside you because of what that symbol represented. Sometimes you wished nobody had ever told you about the family business. Living a life under blissful ignorance sounded better than this everlasting sickness in the pit of your stomach.  
“Tell me”, you hear Michael’s quiet voice as he closes the door behind him, walking over to his chair.  
You exchange a long look that tells you it all; he doesn’t know a damn thing. He probably thinks this is yet another one of your failing attempts at getting through him, for the sake of love. But how, how could you keep loving someone so heartless, so wicked? His eyes still watched your every move, but it was like there was no one behind them. You saw nothing.  
“I want a divorce, Michael”, you say it finally, choosing to sustain his unfazed gaze. He doesn’t get it, he still doesn’t get it.  
“You know that’s not possible.” 
“I don’t care if you kill me, too”, your voice cuts through when he is barely finished and Michael hardens his expression even more. “I just want this to end. I feel sick when I look at you, I can’t do this any longer. And I am not sorry.” 
He places his hands on the table in front of him, dropping his eyes. “I won’t repeat myself.” 
“I know you killed Fredo”, you blurt out, letting the tears come when he looks at you instantly. 
He is shocked and perhaps angry, mouth hanging slightly ajar. Your fingers tremble a bit, but you hold them in place. There is no sound to your sobs and salty water runs down your face freely. Saying it out loud somehow made it worse, palpable, real.  
You’d known it for a while now, though you were only sure when you came by his office one day to find him staring at the window for at least an hour. You said nothing before because you knew his family was grieving, and so were you, however you couldn’t keep pretending. You needed to get away from Michael Corleone or else you feared he’d kill another person he loved, and you didn’t want to make him go through that again, as stupid as it may sound. That sordid hope never seemed to leave your heart, even now. 
“You’re not leaving me”, he mutters sternly, going back to his unbothered demeanour. Wiping your tears quietly, you watch him come to you in slow steps. You shrunk in your seat unconsciously, bowing your head. He stopped in his tracks to take a look at your position. “What is this?”, he asks harshly, deciding to close the distance between you while gripping your wrists. You meet his gaze and you could swear his eyes softened for one second, but it was as brief as you’d expect. “You look ill, (y/n). You’re not thinking straight.” 
“Shut up, shut up!”, you struggle to get out of his embrace, failing miserably. His grip on your arms tightens in response, and he grits his teeth as if to control himself. You can’t help but start crying again, feeling powerless. You were only going in circles and you just couldn’t take it anymore, you wanted to leave. Run and never look back. “Michael, please...”, you sob desperately, voice almost inaudible. “We can’t keep doing this, you can’t keep doing this to me, Michael. I love you, but you only hurt me. You only hurt people now, you can’t love them anymore”, the words slide through your lips in quiet sobs.  
Your vision was blurry, but you saw clearly when he opened his mouth again without knowing what to say. What could he say at this point, you silently wondered, curling in your seat like a frightened child. He knew your words to be the God’s honest truth as much as you or anyone around you both did. Now it was only a moment to accept things as they were, no more deception. You hoped he’d at least be man enough to do that, since it was a title he took so much pride in.
Michael remained in silence as he left your side at last, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His hair was slightly out of place because of your kicking under his touch, reflecting the light of the lamps almost cinematographically, and it was unfair how ugly someone’s actions could be, without it affecting their own beauty. It was the cheat of the universe, not to align aesthetics with ethics. 
“I am all the things you say I am”, he starts, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket. “And I do all the things you say I do, or did”, his tone is almost pensive, as if he was still collecting his thoughts while he talked. “But you tell me this now with tears in your eyes, fear in your voice”, he lights up his smoke, taking a deep drag. “And it makes me think you didn’t know what you were in for, when we both know that’s not true. (y/n), you can’t pick what your love will and will not stand by. That’s just not how marriage works.” 
Your stomach turned as he spoke, his gravelly voice cutting into your ears despite the calmness in his tone. He sounded collected, business-like as he ever did; you were nothing but another transaction to him. Another deal. You snorted and caught his attention, brown eyes piercing through you like needles.  
“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear yourself”, he doesn’t say anything, only letting out the smoke as he goes back to his seat. With a deep sigh, you look at the ceiling. “Either way, I’ve said my piece. I know it’s hard for you to grasp the concept of something not working out as you wanted to, but you’ll live.” 
“Enough.” 
“I’m sleeping at Connie’s tonight and I’ll get my stuff...” 
“Enough!”, Michael slams his hand on the table and stands back up, making you flinch. “You’re not leaving me, that’s final”, his tone is menacing.
“Fuck you!”, you snap, getting up too as anger boils in your entire body. You walked over to push him, so forcefully and abruptly he had to hold on to the edge of the table as not to slip backwards. The cigarette fell to the floor, halfway finished. You didn’t care, though, still going at his chest with slaps and punches. “Fuck you! Fuck all of this! You don’t control me anymore, Michael, I’d rather die!”, you try to give him one last jab, but he catches your wrists mid-air, forcing you to look at him closely.  
“Stop”, he mutters, almost whispers, and his eyes are widened like you’d never seen afore.  
You managed to escape his grasp, but as soon as you lifted your palm again, he hit you soundly across the face. You stumble a bit because of the impact, slowly getting back up. You hit him back with no hesitation, your hand stinging with how much force you put into it. He stood paralyzed for one moment, cupping his red cheek as you did with your own, staring at you.  
The room was silent once more and you breathed in shakily, taking a reflexive step back when he tried to get closer. His hair was a complete mess now, and although your palm stung still from the slap, you let it reach his dark locks. Michael’s chest rose up and down as your fingers put his curls back in place, both of your bodies only moving closer by the minute. 
He held the same stern expression as always, perhaps even a little pained now, while his hands rested on your waist gingerly. There is no animosity in his gaze anymore, and it makes you think for a brief moment that perhaps he finally accepted it, but you knew better than that. You didn’t kiss, you didn’t talk, you didn’t hug. Your hand simply fell off his hair and his own dropped from your hips, as you both walked away from each other wordlessly.  
You follow his movements while he picks up his cigarette and disposes of it. He adjusts his sleeves and puts his jacket back on, going for the door. Before he leaves, Michael takes another look at you, this time as cold as ever, pointing half-heartedly at your direction. Your heart thuds in your chest, anticipating something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe a goodbye, a farewell, or even an already common mention of his disappointment.  
But oh, how you were wrong. 
He ghostly smiles, opening the door slowly. “See you in the morning, sweetheart.” 
You’re only left with walls.  
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kazuhasbunny · 3 years
Note
Giiiirl, imagine you are on Baal's side, you are a general and commanding an army against the rebels' own general, Gorou.
You are all cocky and confident, your years of experience just keeping you aware enough so you won't be consumed by your pride. But oh, your face, when after all of those carefully thought out strategies and intensive training, you end up losing to that mutt.
He is insufferable. Even though his face and body is caked in a mixture only war can give-- blood, sweat and dirt, his smile is the biggest, smuggest thing you have ever seen in your life as a warrior. It does not help that you are on your knees, back stretching forward as the grip he has on your jaw tugs you up with such a force you won't ever believe an archer, a long distance fighter, would posses. The bodies of both sides lay scattered on the defiled land, but the purple spots decorate the most, as his last men stand straight and proud behind him, just as yours do, but the lack the attentiveness. Their tired and bored countenance ticks you in a wrong way. Why they don't look happy by this result?
Does your failure was already predicted? As if this end was something that was already calculated. Taken in account.
The man holding your jaw in a bruising grip let go of you, a mere blink of respite as the next second your left cheek explodes in pain, your vision swaggers for a second as you fall on your right side from the streght of that blow. You shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing; the fight left you completely drained, as much as your brain screamed at you to stand up and attack that man, your bones and muscles protested as you tensed in hopes of getting up, but ultimately you only made yourself look pitiful.
Gorou turns to were his men are, his gaze lingering for a second on your laughable attempt. His focus switches to the army as he starts to pace from one side to the other, the victory was already decided, but the energy from the feat itself brought a surge of emotions within him.
Another quick glance at you, and something on his mind switched. He was wondering what to do with you; killing you off felt as a meaningless action, as the Shogun won't care for someone as low as yourself. You only were deployed to fight against them to gain time for the real force, to prepare and learn how strong the rebels actually are. With how confident you looked hours ago, it seems that your benevolent Shogun forgot to grace you with such knowledge before sending you off with a bunch of newly trainees.
"First of all, congratulations, my friends, for this well earned victory" Gorou began. The group of men on front of him quickly acknowledge his words, paying attention to what he had to say.
"Even if the outcome resulted as to what we--" He turns around, your eyes opened when he began speaking. You both made eye contact, and Gorou's smirk transformed into a full smile. Was it okay for him to fill such giddiness at the sight of your equally wounded pride and body? After all, he was the one to bring you into that state, he was the one to put you in your rightful place with just one arrow, kneeling on the dirty battlefield as the geo power incased on the arrowhead did its job in petrify you.
The glint of defeat on, dare he say, those gorgeous eyes of yours really made them stand out. Actually, as he approaches your form, he's starting to see some other appealing features he couldn't notice from a longer distance. What was the Shogun thinking, in even allowing you a spot within her number when you clearly weren't made for war?
"--Expected" his pause brought your attention to what he was actually saying. So they had all of this calculated...
"But now, all that is left to do, is tend to the wounded and take care of the dead. Yours and their sacrifice will bring an end to this stupid decree in no time. We need to prepare for tougher, real..." He gives you a glance "...battles from now on. Don't let this win get in your head"
The crowd quietly cheers between them, some of them patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. All of that camaraderie made your stomach hollow, as you recognise the same speech you have told to your former men after a battle well fought. Those piercing blue eyes of his made you painfully aware of the consecutive part of giving a victory speech, about what is waiting for the losing side, the pit in your stomach grew in size and you really wished that it could swallow you whole before the man in front of you does.
Gorou thrills in your despair. That pretty face of yours plunging into dark dephts, your mind weaving one horrifying destiny after other speaks a lot of your character, as only those who have layed a cruel end to those before them can conceive. He knows what kind of thoughts those are, but as much of a monster as you are viewing him now, he won't do such a thing. He was quite merciful while deciding what your fate will be, even if he didn't pondered a lot in the few minutes after your fall, you are but only a child with a weapon, sent to die by that horrible woman.
And something he prides himself of, is learning from mistakes. He won't throw away something that can fulfill very well other duties than warfare ones.
"Sir! If I may--" a voice spoke between the masses of helms and spears.
"I know, I know. The general" Gorou waves off his hand, his eyes never stranding away from your form for far too long.
A groan escapes your body as his foot steps on your ribcage, not too hard but your weak body sense as if he had nails attached to the sole, your skin felt cold and as if it was being prickled by a ton of needles. He pushes your your body with a gentleness unexpected from an enemy, until you were lying on your back. The new position put pressure in the arrow wound on your right/left shoulder, your dominant arm, and for a second you were grateful of the rigidness granted by the geo element yet covering half of your arm or else you are sure you would have cried in pain, the last thing you want now is to show more weakness that what you are displaying.
"What I am going to do with her... I didn't know myself when we first begun this battle" Gorou continued. He removed his shoe from your chest to your side on the floor, so you'll be cage between his legs while he looks down on you. His arms crossed across his chest and he tilted his head to the side, as in assessing you, taking on your face just as covered in grime as his but not diminish your beauty in the slightest. He really made a good decision in regard of your fate.
The soldiers stood still, the atmosphere felt heavy like the air on a hot summer afternoon that feels stuffy on your lungs as your breath in. Their general had an unseen aura surrounding him, his usual careless actitud makes everyone forget that there's an animal side to him, although they aren't sure they will presence it for the first time, their captain is definitely switching towards that side... they even feel a little bit of pity for the woman under him.
"But as I see her like this, beaten, it makes me remember something of old, that the victorous usually sow. Can you guys guess what it is?" He squats over you, sweetly combing a couple of strands of hair out of your face.
Whispers break among the army after the question. One of them raised his hand, no barely 18 years old as he was one of the shortest in comparison to his bigger and wider shouldered comrades. The young recruit promptly lowered his arm as the general wasn't looking at their direction but that didn't stopped him from answering, eyes shining with excitement:
"They take something as a token of their victory, sir!"
Gorou hummed in affirmation. "Yes, they did. A spoil of war, if you may"
Dread washed over you. He wasn't going to kill you, as a way to demonstrate their superiority? To be taken as a trophy, a possession... He surely won't mean that, right? They are going to torture you and extract every drop of information that you have, until the last thing left in you is blood to shed on their hands as your usefulness is cut short like your troath.
You needed to say something. Anything, as long as it would arise anger within the young male, anything as long as you aren't degrade far from what you have been.
Gorou raised his eyebrows as you coughed. He wasn't expecting a monologue from you but neither silence. Your sudden wish of speaking made the men jump into action, their spears pointing at you with such terrifying speed made you realise furthermore that this battle was destined to end like this, another stripe to the tiger just like a new blow to your pride.
"Just kill me already. I won't say anything, and if given the opportunity, I will end it myself" you spat. You tried to transmit all of your pain, hate and shame in one stare, you won't go happy until you make that man see what you feel, how big your abhorrence is to his being.
All the males stare in silence, until the general himself chuckled. Your cheeks burn with rage, your teeth clenched together as you tried yo surf this flare of emotions. How dare he laugh like that! He already won and you won't speak a thing about the Shogun, why acting like that? Isn't the rebels supposed to act with nobility and fairness?
Gorou took a breath in. He's happy he didn't went for the traditional route and killed you.
"Aw, now you just proved me correct, sweetheart. I'll enjoy making you into a proper wife"
All of that just to say "Imagine being taken as Gorou's prize and he makes you his whore wife" LMAO
(Also? In the part that reader coughs? I wanted to put that Gorou spits on your lips because you looked thirsty AODJFJDC)
THIS 🙏 yes i’d love to be gorou’s housewife he should really take me in and train me to obey him . please i’d do anything for him
AND pleasee omg ... if u actually put that in i’d die on my chair it’s too hot i can’t hjnhnggrh
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everdreamart · 3 years
Text
Read my Thoughts
The journey through Aeor only gets more confusing as eye powers are thrown into the mix.
OR
An accidental telepathy fic where Caleb shares a bit too much to a certain drow.
Relationship: Caleb Widowgast/Essek Thelyss (Shadowgast)
Rating: Teen and Up
~~~~~
Things in Aeor are strange. Magic Especially. A teleport can send you miles away from target, and a spell gone wrong can make you bald! However, Aeor's atrocities were put on the backburner when Jester's weasel turned out to be her 'god' and the red eyes adorning the Empire Kid's bodies started to show power.
Darkvision was one thing that was quite startling to Caleb. He hadn't really noticed it with the constant flow of light emitting from Caduceus' staff and his own globules. It wasn't until Beauregard said something that it really occurred to him. Even more surprising was the telepathy. The ability to transcend one's thoughts into the mind of another. A mental link for shared knowledge. All sorts of possibilities flowed into Caleb's mind. How useful this could be in their upcoming battles with Lucien.
"Woahhhh Caleb I can literally HEAR your thoughts! Slow down a bit!" Jester marveled.
"OH Oh Beau! Can you read my thoughts??" Yasha exclaimed.
"Hey let's give it a try-" Beau smirked.
"Ok who do I love? Oh wait thats dumb.." Yasha mumbled. The rest of them started to laugh a bit.
Caleb shifted his gaze over to Essek. The drow's soft features focused on the commotion going on around him. A confused expression painting his face - no doubt from the sudden talking weasel - in a show of momentary openness. Throughout their travels in Aeor, Essek had slowly let the shadowhand persona slip away. Caleb liked this version much better. The way emotion displayed itself on Essek's face was new and nervous, but the man was truly trying to change. That alone caused something to swell in Caleb's heart.
Immediately, Essek's head snapped up and looked over at Caleb in surprise. Caleb looked away as soon as he turned his head. Did Essek hear him? He needs to get a better hold of this power. Fast. Swallowing hard, Caleb simply nodded, before turning his gaze back to their laughing friends.
-----
After a day of hard trekked travel, the Mighty Nein stumbled into the tower for a night of much needed rest. It was then that Caleb's mind started to wander. What exactly is transmitted through this telepathy? Feelings? Words? Images? The beginning pricks of worry started to crawl into his throat. Would he have to wrestle every one of his thoughts down so the others wouldn't be plagued by his memories? He glanced at the glaring red eye adorning his palm. Thick red lines seared into his skin flawlessly. Watching. Staring. Certainly these powers come with a price. And Caleb didn't know what that price was.
There's nothing he can do right now. Stay on task, Widowgast. Maybe something from the papers he picked up earlier will have more information about their enemy. With an idea for distraction in place, Caleb floats up to the library to begin opening the amber. He settles on a couch opposite from a crackling fireplace as he does so, the comforting warmth washing away the stress of the day.
Piles of books and papers fill the floor in front of him. Excitement and curiosity begin to tug at his mind. Caleb reaches out and grabs one of the dusty old tombs, tracing the foreign writing in awe. So much knowledge, packed in the papers around him. So much information to be learned and so little time.
"It's quite incredible, is it not?" A soft voice comes from behind him as Essek glides over to Caleb, staring at the collection of books.
"Ja. After our business is concluded, I would love to study more of Aeor's history and research."
"Well, we have a few moments now, do we not?" Essek smiled softly as he looked at Caleb.
And just like that, they were off. Reading through ancient texts, occasionally bouncing theories back and forth. The constant whirring of intellect trying to process the thoughts of mages from far beyond their time. It was invigorating.
However, from time to time, Caleb found it hard to keep his focus. His eyes constantly wandering back to the drow sat beside him, nose buried in a book. His thin white brows creased into a focused expression, eyes full of wonder and curiously, devouring the age old texts. The way his mouth would curl into a subtle smile when he found a particularly interesting section of text. Or how he would nibble at his lower lip when frustrated about something. He wondered if those lips would feel as good as he imagined. How soft and delicate.. Oh how glad Caleb is to have moments like these, just him and Essek.
At some point while Caleb was lost in his thoughts, Essek looked up. Violet eyes meeting blue ones.
"I uh.." Essek clears his throat. " I found a section that you might find to be interesting." He smiles and looks away.
Oh.
How much did he hear? How many of those thoughts slipped through in his tired state? Apparently enough for the subtle hints of purple creeping on the edges of Essek's ears to catch Caleb's attention.
"I think it's time for me to head to bed. I require more sleep than you do, after all," Caleb said as he stood up. It was awkward, for a moment. The silence was heavy, and he didn't dare steal a look at the drow beside him.
-----
Having your thoughts known to others feels like quite a violation of privacy. Caleb thought as he laid in his bed. I need to get a hang of this.
It took a while for him to get even close to falling asleep, for his mind was racing with thoughts.
He was on the edge of consciousness when he heard a small knock on his door. Surely all the nein are well into their sleep right now, so that means that the only person this could be is… a lump formed in Caleb's throat as he opened the door. Essek stood in front of him, a foreign expression adorned on his face.
"I hope I wasn't disrupting your rest. I would like to talk… if you don't mind?" He spoke softly as Caleb gestured him into the room.
It caught Caleb's attention immediately that the man wasn't floating, but walking instead. They sat on the couch as he responded, "Ah, I was having some trouble sleeping. You weren't interrupting anything. What is it you would like to discuss friend?"
"I ah.." He fidgeted with his fingers. The drow wasn't wearing his usual mantle, but instead the more comfortable robes that were provided to him from the tower. Caleb let his eyes momentarily linger on the way the clothing frames Essek's small figure. The way the deep blues and purples frame his gorgeous dark skin. Caleb promptly tries very hard to stuff these thoughts down.
"I took notice of the recent… developments of the eyes on beauregard's and your bodies. It… concerns me. The acquisition of such powers surely means that something was taken in exchange, and I am unsure of what that was." Essek says with worry laced in his voice. His eyes rise to meet Caleb's.
"..ja. I too am a bit uneasy about the current situation. Though it just makes our goal that much more important, does it not?" He replied, flashing a faint reassuring smile.
"I guess it does." The other wizard's gaze falls to his lap.
'That's not really what you came here to talk about. Is it?' Slips from Caleb's mind before he can even think to stop it.
The drow visibly flinches in surprise, then sighs slightly. "There was something else on my mind, yes."
Caleb slowly, ever so slowly, reaches his hand over to touch Essek's. "I'm here if something is wrong."
He is very aware of what Essek was referring to. However, he doesn't know what is going through the other man's brain, as thin smooth fingers meet his calloused ones halfway. A slight smile plays at the corners of Essek's mouth, and Caleb once again feels his focus begin to slip. He focuses on the feeling of Essek's hand in his. Soft skin, clearly not used to the harsher weather of the frozen wasteland as of late, his fingers only rough in the areas where one would hold a quill.
Strands of silver-white hair hover on his forehead, slightly covering vibrant violet eyes. Oh it is a sight to behold. Dark skin growing impersivibly darker. How he works at his bottom lip nervously. Caleb finds himself fighting back the desperate want to feel this man against him. To hold him close and study his features on a much more intimate level. Essek's ear twitches.
"I ah… I thank you for your.. Compliments..?" He stutters out as his face flushes an even darker shade of purple.
Something inside of Caleb breaks, and he finds it becoming increasingly harder to hold back the growing need to bring the wizard close.
"I apologize for not being able to return such… appraisal," the drow mumbles out, looking anywhere but Caleb's eyes. His other hand raises up Caleb's arm, settling on the crook of his neck. "I hope I can live up to your expectations, Widowgast." He smiles nervously.
Caleb's mind goes blank. Soft lips brush his own and his restraint vanishes. They crash together in feverish movements, a warm pressure on his lips that grounds him in the moment. It's so much better than he could've ever imagined. The sensation of Essek's mouth on his is something he wants to savor forever. He wants to memorize every movement and feeling of the man pushing against him, as if this was a rare slip-up and it would never happen again. Maybe he was dreaming after all, but the feeling of Essek starting to nibble at his lower lip quickly reassures him that this is very much real.
Something sharp catches Caleb's lip, and he recoils a bit in surprise. Essek immediately pulls back, a flash of worry crossing his face.
"Fangs." Caleb mutters out, breathless. "I was not aware you had fangs."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" he gets cut off by Caleb leaning in once more, capturing his mouth hungerly. His fingers lace through Essek's hair as he pushes onto him, desperate to be closer. More. He wants more.
Apparently Essek heard him, as the drow parts his mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Caleb runs his tongue over the sharpened points of Essek's fangs, feeling a shiver as he does so. They merge together, desperate to taste each other. To explore every inch. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect. He wants this moment to last forever.
They pull away after what feels like hours, but still isn't long enough. Essek's breath dances on Caleb's lips, mere inches away. Caleb smiles and presses another quick kiss to Essek's mouth.
"I think you far surpassed my expectations, Thelyss."
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doreamu-san · 3 years
Text
An analysis of SolKy
Hello! Thank you so much for clicking on this. A while ago, I was asked to do an essay explaining why people ship SolKy other than the whole rivals/opposites attract reason, and I got a lot of feedback stating it was useful for newcomers to the ship! As a result I’ve decided to post this on tumblr, but just on the ship’s tag as to not bother uninterested people.
A couple of disclaimers before I begin. This is firstly just my own opinion, so whilst it makes sense for me, other shippers may disagree with my points. I’m also not claiming they are canon because they are not. But I do hope it’ll give some insight into why some people like me enjoy them together.
Even once you’ve read this essay, you can still dislike SolKy. This isn’t an essay stating you have to ship them.
This will be extremely long as I basically cover every single interaction they’ve ever had with each other since I know some people sort of gloss over their dialogue, so grab yourself a drink, get comfy, and I hope you enjoy reading!
(Last edited: 09/05/2021. This will be updated again when Strive releases!)
How this all began
If we’re starting right at the beginning, it’s common knowledge that Ky and Sol weren’t exactly on great terms and often clashed most of the time due to their conflicting beliefs. Ky saw the world in terms of black and white, and had very strict rules on what constituted as right and wrong. Sol seemed to think differently and went against that, which was a stark contrast compared to the other Order members at the time.
Considering that they were in fact, in the middle of a war, you would think that generally people would be willing to put their differences aside and work together.
But Sol wasn’t like everyone else, going off and doing his own thing instead of actually listening to orders, so it’s understandable why Ky found him rather irritating.
However, Ky did grow curious of Sol. Obviously curiosity does not equate to love, but it is the basis of Ky wanting to become more friendly with and know more about Sol. There seemed to be something that Sol knew but Ky didn’t, but how was that possible..? As a result, despite how infuriating he could be, Ky sought to seek out the truth and so fought him for answers.
In regards to why exactly they fight (aside from the fact that this is a fighting game), Ishiwatari wrote something called ‘Hostility is Akin to Love’ right above a picture of them fighting:
Hostility is akin to love Thinking of your opponent’s actions to fight, Reading your opponent’s inner thoughts to fight, Planning attacks that will hit your opponent to fight, And then transmitting your thoughts with those attacks, The more you think of your own advantage, at the same time you think of your opponent, In the instant you mix with your opponent, a passionate feeling arises, and blood boils, Reality is hurt, and you wound your opponent, Hostility is akin to love. — Guilty Gear Isuka Mook
It states how fighting someone can be close to feelings of love because you have to think about what your opponent is doing, as well as how you’re going to respond to your opponent. Overtime, you start to memorise how your opponent thinks, and as a result you’ll know them on a deeper level.
So considering the above, this explains how even though they weren’t on friendly terms, they still formed a bond with one another.
Now we’ve established how exactly their relationship started, and why Ky was curious about Sol in the first place, let’s look at things from Sol’s perspective.
Sol’s attitude towards Ky
We know that Sol was also pretty annoyed by Ky, which was totally justifiable given the extreme way in which Ky thought the world worked. But Sol didn’t exactly dislike Ky.
In order to provide some evidence that Sol cares about Ky, let’s cover that infamous scene everyone likes to reference which shows Sol crying over Ky’s dead body:
Sol:     "I came to pick you up." Ky:      "Always coming late... you never could fix that..." Sol:     "You..." Ky:      "As to be expected... until the very end... I could never beat you..." Sol:     "Don't say anything!" Ky:      "I have... a request..." Sol:     "I said shut up!" Ky:      "After Commander Kliff... carry on... the Holy Order..." Sol:     "Stop it... that's your job!" Ky:      "Please... promise me..." Sol:     "Dammit..." Ky:      "If it's you... you can do..." Sol:     "Hey.... what's wrong. Hey! KYYYYYY!" — Guilty Gear XX Drama CD Side Red, Battle of Rome — Deathmatch
A lot of people bring this quote up when discussing SolKy and yes, it does show Sol cares about Ky considering how Sol never really cares about anyone in general, but the fact that Ky’s death managed to make him emotional shows what an impact Ky had on him. There are however more quotes that show Sol’s feelings.
There’s this scene in the GG Xtra manga, Ky and Sol get attacked by a mountain-sized gear. In order to save them, Sol rips off his limiter and Dragon Installs. This scene is very poignant when you take into consideration what Sol said in After Story A:
Sol:     "Back during the Crusades, before we met... Kliff told me this rumour about a prodigy swordsman." Sol:     "If you couldn't guess, that was you. I didn't give a shit at the time..." Sol:     "But then I saw you on the battlefield." Sol:     "I saw someone out there who surpassed all of my expectations. Or perhaps I should say 'something.'" Sol:     "No openings, no wasted movements, no carelessness, no hesitation, no embarrassment, not even any honor. No chivalry or mercy. A being unaffected by emotion." Sol:     "You were a killing machine. Taking down gears with brutal efficiency." Ky:      "...That was a long time ago." Sol:     "I'm not done talking. I've seen the face of the 'serious' Ky." Sol:     "Then one day, you challenged me." Sol:     "You wanna know what I thought right then?" Ky:      "..." Sol:     "I was afraid. Hell, I was scared shitless." Sol:     "'He figured out that I'm a Gear, and he's come to kill me.' That's what I thought." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, After Story A
Sol admits that he knows just how scary Ky can be. Since Ky was extremely against Gears, if Ky found out that Sol was a Gear, then Ky would have most likely attempted to kill him. But Sol knew this and was willing to die for Ky’s sake, and transformed anyway:
Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      (Really... that's really..) Ky:      (That's really you!?) Ky:      "SOL!" Sol:     "Shut it..." Sol:     "I didn't do it..." Sol:     "To help you out—...." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts
Going off on a bit of a tangent from Sol’s feelings, but I just want to point out Ky’s state of mind at this point. Ky in this time period was still very anti-Gear, as it was only through this moment and his encounters with Solaria and Dizzy later that made him change his way of thinking. It took a long time for Ky to accept Gears, and he still had the remains of that mindset in him when he had Sin, as he refused to make eye contact with him because Ky was ashamed of having a Gear child. So the fact that Ky knew Sol was a Gear, believed all Gears were evil, but still decided to accept Sol into his life and wanted to support him regardless of that, is interesting.
Back to Sol, another small quote that manages to show Sol’s feelings towards Ky is this:
Sol:     (Maybe I'll finish them off while I'm at it...) Sol:     (But that would mean breaking my promise to Ky...) — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 2
Now, Sol doesn’t care about 99% of what other people do as long as they don’t get in his way. The fact that he intends to keep his promise with Ky suggests that he holds Ky in somewhat ‘high’ regards compared to others.
There’s also this quote that shows Sol is thinking about Ky in Overture:
The frustrations of the man wielding a giant sword were piling day by day, and a familiar face appeared in his head. What’s he up to right now? “Hmph, whatever…” With a feeling of self-contempt, Sol Badguy shook his head. What am I getting sentimental for? — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #0 “Noise”
And when Sol encounters Raven later on after seeing Ky incapacitated, Raven points out how he can tell Sol is upset, meaning Sol’s not really doing a good job of pretending he’s still indifferent to Ky.
Raven: "You're as ruthless as ever, huh, monster?" Sol:      "Look who's talking." Raven: "Can you not put down your sword and talk? I understand you're upset with Ky Kiske defeated." Sol:      "I'll ask your corpse for answers." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #5 "Gaze of the Chronicle"
Sol’s thoughts about Ky become even clearer during his confrontation with Sin when he’s under the influence of Valentine, where Sol defends Ky’s actions and tries to make Sin understand Ky is not 100% at fault:
Sin:     "Can you see it? Can you feel it? This is my real power. This is my mother's strength." Sol:     "But it's light. It must be from your father." Sin:     "Shut up! Don't ever mention him!" Sin:     "He abandoned my mother and me using justice as an excuse!" Sin:     "Who cares about the King!? Who cares about the people!? That man, and that Kingdom, not one of them can protect a damn thing!" Sol:     "I don't give a damn about your family." Sol:     "But you know what, Ky may be a stubborn idiot, but at least he's true to his beliefs." Sol:     "A punk like you is still alive thanks to his justice." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #15 "Roaring Compass"
Okay, that’s the pre-Xrd era for Sol done, now to focus on Ky’s pre-Xrd’s emotions.
Ky’s attitude towards Sol
We’ve established earlier that Ky was annoyed by Sol and disliked him in the Crusades. However, afterwards it seems as if Ky saw himself as friends with Sol:
Ofc1:   "All of them seem to have been destroyed by... fire?" Ofc2:  "Yeah... why could that be?" Ky:      "........" Ky:      "Change our course!" Ky:      "Head towards the Eastern United States!" Ofc1:   "May I ask why, Chief Ky?" Ky:      "To meet an old friend." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 4: Former Friends
We know that Ky outwardly expressed his first signs of liking Sol when Sol stole the Fuuenken and Ky chased after him, only for Sol to win in their duel, and Ky says this:
Ky:      "Promise me one thing..." Sol:     "..What?" Ky:      "We'll meet again." Sol:     "Hmph... Well, if fate brings us together..." Ky:      "..That's fine." — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 1
It’s pretty interesting that Ky wanted to see Sol again despite how Sol never used to listen to his orders, and how Sol never even tried to act like what the Order expected their men to act like (chivalrous, putting the people first, etc). It at least shows us that Ky saw possibly the potential of becoming friends with Sol. And Sol didn’t even say straight up ‘no’ or ‘in your dreams’ or whatever Badguy-esque notion he usually would’ve done, so we can assume he doesn’t mind seeing Ky again either.
Then they don’t speak to each other properly for 5 years until the tournament that Testament holds, though they have probably ran into each other a few times within those years.
A common misconception people have is that during those 5 years, Ky was obsessed with Sol and would constantly try to find him. Obviously, this is not true. Ky was busy with IPF stuff and Sol was hunting Gears down.
However, it’s not as if Ky completely forgot about Sol — he was just probably at the back of his mind, and Ky does admit that he has been chasing after Sol the most more than anyone else:
Ky:      (Waiting outside for me when I left the ship... burning red flames. Soon, they seem to take the shape of a man... and he appears before me. Yes... it's him. The one I've been after the most... it's him.) — Guilty Gear X Drama CD, Vol. 1: Track Seven — Crater
There’s also these two other quotes:
Ky:      (Sol...) Ky:      (Why are you so stubborn about doing things alone?) — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts
You can interpret this in two ways: either Ky wants to help Sol out and/or he’s curious as to why Sol always does stuff alone.
And then there’s this:
Ky:      "Maintaining peace, law, and order. That is my duty." Sol:     "Whatever..." Ky:      "You and I, we are cut from the same cloth." Ky:      "How long are you going to keep that facade?" Sol:     "..." Ky:      "Answer me Sol!" — Guilty Gear Judgment, Sol and Ky Ending
Being ‘cut from the same cloth’ is quite a strong statement. The phrase means that Ky thought he and Sol were similar somehow, and that he shared something with Sol. Regardless, the ‘how long are you going to keep that facade’ at least shows that Ky knows Sol is intentionally acting distant/rough/etc. and that its not actually who he is.
Jumping to pre-Overture, just before Ky gives Sin to Sol, Ky is in a really depressive state due to all of the stress he’s been going through. This leads Dizzy to contact Sol. The fact that Sol is called means that Dizzy knows that Sol is possibly the only person who can help Ky at that point, which puts some emphasis on just how much Sol means to Ky or at least affects him.
Before I move onto Xrd, there’s this part where Ky gives his son to Sol. This proves he trusts Sol so much considering he was asking him to take care of Sin for a long period of time.
Ky:      “Sol....I want to request something...” Sol:     “...hnn?” Ky:      “My son....Sin..can you take care of him for a while?” Sol:     “...what did you say?” Ky:      “I know it’s unreasonable but...I still want to ask...” — GG2: Overture Story, Sol's Story
The Xrd era (because it is so long, it needs its own section)
The Xrd era is extremely interesting to me, because Sol and Ky have some more in-depth conversations, and boy, do they have a lot of conversations.
Focusing on Sol first, theres a scene in REV where Sol asks Ky why he isn’t interested in his past:
Sol:     "Why don't you ask me already?" Ky:      "Ask you what?" Sol:     "About my past." Ky:      "I can ask you?" Sol:     "I guarantee, it won't be interesting." Sol:     "Every other word that came out of your mouth was 'Duel me,' or 'I challenge you!' You were so eager to fight and..." Ky:      "........" — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A
Given that Ky was constantly pestering Sol about his background in the past, it makes sense why Sol is suddenly a bit confused about Ky’s sudden change in behaviour. But it also shows that Sol wants Ky to know about his past. After ~170+ years of being alive, Sol wants to finally open up to someone again, and he specifically chose Ky for this. It shows in the very least Sol trusts Ky and knows him well enough to decide to let him know about who he used to be.
And then Ky says this, which is basically him just showing Sol how much he cares and understands him:
Ky:      "Sol. Of course I have an interest in your past." Ky:      "But wanting to understand someone and trying to understand everything is completely different." Ky:      "Right now, Sol Badguy's future matters much more to me, than Frederick's past." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A
There’s also this scene in SIGN:
Ky:      "I don't know your history." Ky:      "I don't know if you had friends once, or if you fell in love, or why you burn with such hatred for That Man and the Gears..." Ky:      "I don't even know your real name." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "But I do know a great deal about a man named Sol Badguy." Ky:      "Blinded by vengeance, he lost sight of himself, and now he runs from the truth that frightens him." Sol:     "...Say that again." Ky:      "Tomorrow always comes, Sol." Sol:     "..!" Ky:      "If tomorrow promises to be cold and dark, I cannot stand idly by... even if I know my efforts will come to nothing." Sol:     "... The self-righteous apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Ky:      "I don't expect the world to change tomorrow, but I do hope that, today, perhaps my words will reach you." Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      "I'll be waiting for you. We'll all be waiting for you. Sin, Dizzy..." Ky:      "Once all this is over... come home." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B
Three things to take away from this:
Ky admits that he doesn’t know anything about Sol’s background, but that he knows a lot about the current Sol, and then goes on to explain how Sol acts. Which to expand on, means that although Ky used to care about Sol’s past, he doesn’t really mind about it anymore because Sol’s past won’t really change much who Sol is to Ky now. Also, the part where Ky explains how Sol was ‘blinded by vengeance,’etc. shows that Ky knows Sol’s current personality well enough in order to be able to distinguish his behaviours. Which is interesting because nobody has been around Sol long enough to be able to know him really well unlike Ky (Aria and Asuka count too, but they were around Sol when he was Frederick, and Sol seems pretty adamant on the idea that he’s a separate person from Frederick.)
‘Come home’ is pretty significant, as it implies that it’s almost like Ky is saying home is with Sin, Dizzy and the Valentines, and so when Sol is done getting revenge on That Man, instead of letting Sol just wander off alone, Ky wants Sol to be a family with them.
The fact that says Ky says ‘I’ll be waiting for you’ separate from ‘we’ll all be waiting for you’ implies that either Ky’s want to wait for Sol is somehow different from everyone else’s or it’s just for the sake of being dramatic. I interpreted this in both ways, as it seems like Ky knows that Sol treats him differently compared to others. So in a sense, by Ky emphasising that he’ll be waiting for Sol, it might make Sol more likely to ‘come home’.
There’s also a scene that shows Ky knows Sol’s personality well:
Ky:      "When I look at you, Sol, I see a man who is afraid." Sol:     "... What?" Ky:      "It became clear when I watched you caring for Sin." Ky:      "You work very hard to keep everyone at arm's length." Sol:     "..." Sol:     "I got Gear blood in my veins, and it ain't friendly. It's always there in the back of my head, whispering that I oughta just destroy all of this." Sol:     "The only way I'm gonna get some closure is tracking down That Man and beating some answers out of him." Sol:     "And if he doesn't have 'em..." Sol:     "Then maybe there really isn't a good way to live." Ky:      "That's why you close your heart off." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A
There’s also this:
Ky:      "Not all people have the strength to stand on their own." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "If only life were simple, and the right path was laid out before each of us..." Ky:      "But even then some would leave it, and some would struggle with walking it. Such is human nature..." Ky:      "The truth is that no path will ever be 'right' for all people. Each of us must find the one we are meant to walk--and sometimes that is where none exists." Ky:      "That is what I learned from you." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A
This just shows that Ky actually learnt something from Sol. Which I think is important because Ky is someone who always used to be very strict to his ideals. The fact that he learnt something from Sol that had an impact on his mindset means that Sol actually managed to have a great impact on Ky.
There’s this scene where Sol finds out that Aria isn’t dead when he confronts That Man, and he has somewhat of a mini mental breakdown. So Ky excuses them from the room, and goes outside to talk with Sol:
Ky:      "Sol. The grudge you hold is certainly not something that can be taken lightly. And, whatever answer you think you've found, I doubt any of us will be able to stop you from seeing it through..." Ky:      "But we have very little time left. Right now, we need the Gear Maker's help." Ky:      "So, I'm begging you... Just for now. Why don't you stay outside with me." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 06, Cause A
The last line that Ky says is interesting because it’s obvious that he’s just trying to calm Sol down, and Ky thinks that if he stays with Sol outside for a bit, he’ll be able to help him calm down. Furthermore, Ky thought it was more necessary to pause everything and help Sol out rather than keep listening to the plans of what their next course of action would be.
Ky does have the habit of comforting Sol. One of the more significant moments is whenever Sol refers to himself as a monster:
Ky:      "Yes, he took away some of what makes you human, but that doesn't mean he altered your mind or your soul." Sol:     "So what?" Ky:      "I want to believe that you'll fight for the people of this world." Sol:     "Are we seriously having this conversation?" Sol:     "Look, kid. I'm a monster. I'm here to do two things: Destroy That Man, and kill all the other Gears." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B
To expand a little on Sol’s mindset, it’s common knowledge that Gears were generally in the past regarded as akin to monsters. Now we don’t have any solid proof Sol is referring to himself as a monster because he’s a Gear, or because he feels guilt about the whole Gear Project, etc. But we do know it’s something he’s affected by given that he constantly refers to himself as one.
So the fact that Ky constantly reassures him that he’s not one, and that Ky didn’t treat him differently after finding out he was a Gear, must be comforting to know.
Then at the end of REV, there’s the scene where Daryl is about to shoot Sol, because he (quite rightly) doesn’t trust the fate of the world to be left to Sol. And so, the kids get beamed up, but Ky asks to be left behind:
Ky:      "But, if you plan on targeting Sol, then you must leave me behind, as well." Daryl: "What!?" Zappa:"60 seconds until impact..!" Sol:     "What the hell are you doing?! Stay with Sin!" Ky:      "I am well aware that this is a one in a million chance..." Ky:      "But, if I survive at the expense of my dear friend, then there is little reason left for my ruling this world as king." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Final Chapter, Fireworks
This was a really odd moment because Ky’s life was never in danger at that moment. If he had been sent on board Daryl’s ship as originally planned, he would have been safe. But Ky intentionally chose to risk his life, and its kind of startling because Ky has always put his people above everything. There were times when he put the people above his own family, like when he kept his family a secret instead of coming out with the truth about them in order to remain as King to protect his people.
So Ky suddenly going ‘I would rather die with Sol than take care of my people’ is really extreme. Also Ky was willing to leave his family behind, which is even more extreme. So this just really proves how highly Ky regards Sol considering how he would rather die with him than live without him.
Some concluding notes
I think Sol and Ky’s personalities do work really well. Perhaps not in the Crusade era, but if we take a look at the Xrd era, they have shown to get along and have deep conversations with one another that they both enjoy. They know each other extremely well; they know how to support one another when life gets a bit too much and they’re also capable of telling one another when the other is wrong.
Sol teaches Ky that life isn’t as simple as it seems, and that (figuratively speaking) he shouldn’t stick exactly to the textbook. He’s able to see under that perfect image Ky puts up about him being able to cope with everything, acting as a source of stability when you consider how Sol has been the only person who’s been around Ky since the very beginning.
Throughout all of Ky’s life, he’s been under so much pressure. From being Commander in the Crusades, to becoming the Head of the International Police Force, to becoming King. In every situation, people are constantly relying on him, and his environment is changing rapidly. But despite everything, Sol has always remained the same. He looks the same, acts the same, etc. Ky can rely on Sol and trust Sol. He’s like a source of stability for Ky in those hectic times.
And Ky provides something similar to Sol too, given how often he ran into Sol time and time again. When you’ve been alive for so long, it’d feel reassuring in the very least to see a familiar face. And Sol does seem to get less annoyed each time they meet each other again, considering like how in Overture he voluntarily went to go see Ky after seeing himself on a wanted poster.
Ky also gives Sol the chance to open up to people again and form connections with them, something that Sol has been reluctant to do. Sol needs someone to care about him, and Ky proves that by constantly reassuring him and never giving up on trying to help Sol, even though he kept getting pushed away.
They may not be canon but I really do love how they work together. Yes it’s true some people may like them because they are ‘rivals’and seeing rivals get together and bicker is great, but actually I think when people focus more on how much they support and rely on each other, as well as the fact that they do get along, them being in a relationship is more convincing.
Whilst this essay focused on their canon interactions, there’s plenty of other great material out there. For instance, the Guilty Gear 4KomaKINGS manga provides plenty of great SolKy interactions (like the time Ky wanted to have a friendship diary with Sol, only to get rejected and start crying about it. Of course, take these interactions with a pinch of skepticism considering the frivolity of the source material.)
And that, was my very long SolKy essay. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading! Though you may not have agreed with everything I have said, you still continued reading, and I am grateful for that. Thank you for showing such enthusiasm and loving this franchise.
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glimmerglanger · 3 years
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Sooo, I got this prompt from @anstarwar
Hi! I just stayed up til o’dark thirty finishing MYB and just had to hop over and say WOW. Love your writing! If you’re still taking prompts for supplemental stories I’m super curious what happened to Bly when he “woke up?” I just can’t help but think it’d be so devastating for him....I wanna give him a hug....anyways thank you!
AND OOOOF. Well, it’s not going to be a...happy time? For anyone? You’re probably going to want to give him more of a hug after this?
This snippet deals a lot with mind-control related trauma, being forced to kill someone against your will, suicidal ideation/a suicide attempt, and survivor’s guilt. People don’t always handle trauma in a neat and tidy way. This is… NOT neat and tidy, anger is one stage of grief, and something people who are hurt lash out, so lots of warnings for all of that. Past Blyla. A lot of hurt.
~~~~
Bly had some information to work with, by the time the thing in his head just stopped working, between one breath and the next. The thing had controlled his body for a timeless stretch, piloting him around the ship, to his quarters and to the bridge.
It read all the reports issued by the Imperial Command, and so Bly saw them, too.
He’d read that the Vigilance had been taken, taken by traitors in a mutiny, and he’d wanted to cheer, because of course Cody had found a way out, a way around the things in their head. 
He’d read that the Emperor wanted the heads of CC-2224 and the traitor Kenobi and so he’d known, too, that General Kenobi had somehow survived. That Cody had been strong enough to - to not pull the trigger on the Jedi he loved.
Not like Bly, who had leveled his blaster on Aayla’s back and squeezed the trigger and--
He wished he could grab his blaster again, but his body fought him, over and over again, until it just stopped. 
Bly was standing on the bridge when the thing in his head just...went away. There was no warning, no way for him to prepare. One moment, there were restraints around every piece of him and the next they were just gone.
Someone whimpered, across the bridge as Bly stared forward, breathing raggedly, swaying on his feet. His hand moved, automatically, towards the blaster at his hip. His fingers curled around the grip and he had it in hand before Ambler hit him around the chest and bore him to the floor, panting, “Don’t - don’t - please.”
“Get off of me,” Bly rasped out and they were poor first words, ragged and wet. He couldn’t breathe properly. His eyes stung and burned. The entire world had gone blurry. He reached for the blaster again - he’d shot Aayla in the back, his General, his everything, he’d shot her in the back and--
“I can’t,” Ambler said, knee on Bly’s wrist, the weight making his fingers spasm open. “I can’t, sir, I’m sorry.”
And Bly tried to say something, anything, else, but the words wouldn’t come, not for a long time.
#
Ambler refused to give Bly his blaster back, even after Bly got his breathing under control. Bly stared at him, the initial surge of emotion that had come with freedom fading away. He could control it. He had to control it.
Ambler had done the right thing, Bly decided, behind his helmet. He had things he needed to do, before he-- 
Made up for things.
He shook that thought aside. His brothers needed him. They didn’t have a General anymore - he’d seen to that - which meant--which meant they needed Bly to keep them safe. To help them figure out what to do.
He cleared his throat, ignoring the tears drying all over his cheeks under his helmet, and ordered the nat-borns on the ship restrained. And then he started looking for the Vigilance. Cody had gotten them free, he had no doubt. Somehow, the crazy son of a bantha had freed them all, and--
And he was wanted by the Empire. Kriff, they were probably all about to be wanted by the Empire.
Which meant they needed to be together. They’d be safer in greater numbers. “We had a message about some kind of attack on Kamino,” Burr said, from across the bridge, as they tried to figure out where to go. “But the message got cut off.”
“Head there,” Bly said, his voice a ragged mess. It was as good a place to go as any.
#
They found ruination on Kamino, but no sign of Cody or the Vigilance. No sign of any of their little brothers. Whatever had happened on the planet was long over by the time they dropped out of hyperspace.
But there was a buoy, tiny and transmitting on a strange frequency. Circuitboard decoded it while Bly sat in his quarters, staring at the wall, trying not to think of anything, definitely not the way Aayla had looked in his bunk, blue skin peeking out from beneath drab gray blankets, lekku curling softly with pleasure, and--
The buoy was transmitting coordinates, Circuitboard said, when he commed Bly. Bly looked down to find that he’d torn his sheets into long strips. He’d been twisting them, winding them into a long rope.
He stared down at his shaking hands, just for a moment, and gave the order to head to the coordinates, rising to his feet. He felt he should be on the bridge, at least for the start of their journey.
By the time he got back to his quarters, someone had taken away the damaged sheets. They’d taken away a lot of things. The room looked almost bare. Prickle - his new medic - was waiting inside the room, arms crossed, and said, “I can stay in here with you, or you can come to the medbay with me, the choice is yours.”
“Do what you want,” Bly told him, hollow inside, and curled up on the bare bed, not thinking about Aayla’s fingers stroking over his brow or the marks on his cheeks or--
Or anything else.
#
Cody left them a trail of breadcrumbs to follow, like they were playing one of the hunt-and-find games they’d indulged in back on Kamino, years ago. Cody’d always been better at hunting than hiding.
Maybe that was still true, because Bly found the Vigilance in orbit around an ugly gas giant on the borders of Wild Space, a small little flotilla around it. There were two other Venator-class ships by the Vigilance, and for a beat Bly wondered if the entire thing was an Imperial trap, his he and his brothers were about to be shot out of the sky.
He didn’t raise their shields. 
And a moment later familiar voices came over the comms, shouting words of welcome and relief.
#
Cody insisted that Bly come over to the Vigilance. Bly wasn’t sure he technically had to obey Cody’s orders, anymore, but if anyone was in charge of all of them, it had to be Cody, and so he went. 
He stared at the wall of the shuttle, even after it landed. He managed to get to his feet when Cody opened the rear hatch, turning to look at his brother - his batchmate - opening his mouth and then closing it again, before asking, “How the kriff did you do it?”
Cody looked back at him, expression tightly controlled, and said, “It’s a long story.”
Bly just stared at him. He felt...hollow inside. Cody winced, a little, and then exhaled. “Come on,” Cody said, reaching out and gripping his shoulder, “I’ll tell you.” 
#
Bly listened to all of it. He had a feeling, deep in his head, that Cody wasn’t going into the details, but it didn’t really matter. Bly got the gist of it. Cody really had saved his Jedi. Nearly blown up his head to do it, but he had, while Bly had drawn his blaster and--
“Where is he?” Bly asked, sitting in General Kenobi’s quarters - the ones Cody had been living in for years - and staring forward, eyes burning.
“On the bridge,” Cody said, with a little shrug. 
Bly nodded. He remembered what Aayla had looked like, last time she’d been on the bridge, her eyes tired as she looked over holos, one hand bandaged from a fall, lovely and alive and--
“I should get back,” Bly said, standing, because his men were in Cody’s care, now, and, obviously, Cody would take better care of them. Cody’d almost killed himself, proving that, while Bly had just raised his blaster and pulled the trigger and--
“You’re going to stay here,” Cody said, like it wasn’t even a question, in the same tone that had led to them fighting more than once when they were shinies on Kamino, Cody always thinking everyone should just listen to him-- “Catch me up on everything. Get some rest, for a day or two.”
“With all due respect,” Bly said, tone too flat to be sharp, “I’m rested plenty.”
“I talked to Prickle,” Cody said, and Bly wondered why, staring forward, not looking at Cody, even when Cody tried to step into his field of view. 
“That so?” Bly asked, trying to muster the energy to care and failing. He should have cared about them whispering about him behind his back, but he just--
Didn’t.
“That’s so,” Cody said. “And so you’re staying here.”
“Fine,” Bly said, gaze flicking momentarily towards the blaster at Cody’s hip. “Whatever you say, sir.”
He caught Cody’s wince out of the corner of his eyes, and a part of him wanted to apologize immediately but-- He’d done so much worse. Things he’d never be able to apologize for, he’d lifted his blaster and--
“Good,” Cody said, firm. “Let’s get some dinner.”
#
Bly pushed mush around his plate. He ate a bite, maybe two. His appetite had died with everything else that mattered, systems and systems away from where he currently was. 
Cody made noises about him needing to eat more, but he’d just have to live with what Bly could manage, unless he planned to bring in a tube and force it down Bly’s throat. Maybe he would. Bly considered the idea dispassionately.
In the end, Cody just frowned over him and took Bly back to his quarters. Cody brought along an extra meal, and something in Bly’s gut twisted hard, just looking at it. He felt like there was something inside him, a dam, perhaps, and that it was starting to crack, all down the middle.
He didn’t want to know what was on the other side of it.
“Why don’t you get in the fresher,” Cody said, and Bly shrugged. The fresher looked the same as the one he’d used for years. There was even a Jedi robe hanging on one of the hooks along the wall and for a moment he could imagine--
But it wasn’t Aayla’s. The weave was too heavy. And she’d preferred darker, richer colors. Earth tones. He stared at his fingers, clenched in the fabric, and made himself release it with a shudder. He took off his armor. Set it aside. Stepped under the water.
Aayla had loved the decadence of a water shower. She’d insisted he join her in one, more than once, the two of them wedged in together, laughing as they jostled for space and it always ended with her in his arms, hands sliding on the slippery walls, her fingers clenching at his shoulders, and--
He’d shot her. In the back. Hadn’t even hesitated. Ordered her body pushed into a shallow grave and she’d probably been ravaged by scavengers and--
Bly jerked out from under the water. He dried off, pulled back on a set of blacks that looked clean. Cody’s, he assumed. They mostly fitted; after years of different experiences, their bodies were no longer exactly the same. They’d built muscle differently. Some of them were stronger than others.
Cody had managed to fight the thing in his head.
And Bly had--
He tried to hold together the splintering dam inside his head, stepping back out into the main room. He wondered where Cody expected him to sleep, and the consideration fell out of his head when he realized they weren’t alone anymore.
Cody was sitting on the end of the bunk, talking to General Kenobi, low and earnestly. And Kenobi--
Was alive. Standing there in his tunic, his hair with more white in it around the temples than Bly recalled, a lightsaber on his belt. And seeing him split the widening cracks in Bly’s chest even further. He felt his jaw grinding as Kenobi looked up and over at him, inclining his head a little as he said, “Commander, I’m...so sorry, I--”
Kenobi cut off at a sharp, ragged-edged sound. Bly realized after a moment that it was coming from him. Laughter. 
Kenobi shifted his weight back, just a little, as Bly rasped out, “You’re sorry?”
He was distantly aware of Cody standing up, reaching out and putting a hand on Kenobi’s stomach. But that seemed like it was happening somewhere else. Everything, the entire world, was Kenobi’s expression, his too-wide eyes and the way all the color had washed out of his face. 
“Bly,” Cody started, and Bly felt his mouth twist up, felt the last little pieces of resistance in his chest wash away. 
“You’re sorry?” Bly repeated, taking a step forward. “She’s dead and--you’re sorry? You?”
Kenobi took a step back. “I--”  
“It isn’t fair,” Bly snapped, moving closer, and oh, it wasn’t, nothing about this was fair, it was brutal and wrong and -- “She’s dead, and you’re still here. Still just fine, aren’t you? Just like always? And you’re sorry?”
Cody stepped between them, one hand extended out towards Bly, mouth moving when he said, “That’s--”
“Why did you get to live?” Bly demanded, trying to bat Cody’s hand out of the way. Cody grunted and reached to grab him. “When she died? Why couldn’t it have been her? Just -- it should have been her, not you, she was--”
His words cut off when his shoulders hit the wall, both Cody’s hands in the front of his blacks, something dark and snapping in Cody’s eyes when he snarled, “That’s enough. Not another kriffing word, do you hear me?”
Bly opened his mouth, and never got a chance to say anything, because Cody jerked back from him at the sound of retching from the fresher. Cody swore, viciously, and pushed him against the wall again. “You stay right there,” Cody snapped, heading for the fresher, reaching for his comm and spitting something into it that Bly didn’t hear.
When Bones showed up, a few moments later, to collect him, Bly went along willingly enough. Whatever anger had moved through him had dissipated as quickly as it had come. He just felt… empty again. Completely empty.
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bruhstories · 3 years
Text
Vogel und Jäger
- PART THREE
Summary: You had your first show at Zeke's club, but things begin to complicate. Pairing: Zeke Jeager x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, Floch is a creep Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: as always, make sure to read parts one and two to understand just what the hell is happening. the songs reader is singing in this chapter are flickers and easy by son lux, which i've linked down below if you wanna listen to it as you read
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For five long days you switched between training with Mikasa and practising with the band. The deadly assassin made you work hard, teaching you various techniques of martial arts, as well as how to load and unload guns, how to aim, how to use knives and even how to use crossbows. You were no match to anyone else in the family, getting your ass kicked even by Armin, the bookkeeper, but you were not going to give up. Your will to survive fuelled you. What you weren’t expecting in those five days was to get to know Mikasa and Armin, and realise that they were just as normal as you were — with the added benefit of being properly trained in marksmanship and combat. And they were surprisingly nice to you, but there was a hint of reluctance in their actions and words.
Friday night you had your first show and you found yourself in the backstage, a knot in your throat as you did your makeup. The idea of Yelena blowing your brains out was a lot more pleasant than having to perform in front of so many people. Posters had been put up all over Paradis City announcing your first show at Wings Club, and you knew lots of undercover policemen would be there, perhaps even undercover Marleyans. But for some odd reason, you wanted to please Zeke, make him proud of sparing your pathetic life. Onyankopon told you to be ready in five minutes, and your heart sank, wiping your sweaty palms on the crimson dress.
"You'll do fine." He told you, but you had a bad feeling. There were guards everywhere, so you felt somewhat safe, but stage fright settled in your heart, and you couldn't even reply anything back. All you did was remain stuck in a trance.
The band was ready, the microphone was on, and you waited for the curtain to rise. Someone announced your performance, and the violinist began playing the notes of the first song as the spectators waited eagerly. There were no original songs, only jazz covers, and you felt every single pair of irises burning into your skin. You closed your eyes, imagining no one was there but you and the band, everyone else disappeared.
"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."
There was no turning back now. You'd done it. The spotlight was on you and you alone. Soon the pianist joined, and you felt a bit more confident.
"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."
Somewhere upstairs, Zeke was watching over you, door wide open to hear your beautiful voice hypnotising every man and woman in the club. Indeed, he made the right choice.
"And with my opened mouth I join the singing light..."
You were in a trance. Nothing mattered anymore but the music, the vibrations, the thrill of the show. It was giving you a sense of importance and belonging, and in that moment, you knew it — you were thriving off of the attention, the way no one dared to move while you sang. You captivated the spectators with your voice, you captivated Zeke with your voice.
"I can see the flickers, over me the lantern raised... Lift me up, lift me over it. Show me what you're hiding, take me out into the sea... Lift me up, lift me over it."
You finally opened your eyes, drinking in the way everyone was silent, the only sound resonating being the final notes from the musical instruments. The next songs came so much easier to you, some were more upbeat and you stopped being stiff, your hands moving up and down the microphone pole, hips swaying, head tilting. You ended your performance with another emotional song, and even you had goosebumps on your skin as you began to sing.
"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."
You saw them, the two cops from the files. They were watching you like hawks, sending chills down your spine. But you were a distraction, so you looked them in the eye, a smile on your plump lips.
"Easy, easy... You break the bridle to make losing control easy, easy... Crushed what you're holding so you can say letting go is easy, easy..."
The song was coming to an end. You wrapped your arms around yourself to emphasise the emotions you were so gently transmitting, voice echoing in the club.
"Oh, easy, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, oh, easy... Burn all your things to make the fight to forget easy, easy..."
You weren't just transmitting an emotion, you were feeling it, too. The song resonated with your life, your struggles, your issues. You were alone most of your life, save for Historia and the children. But now... now you had someone, albeit being forced to work for the mafia. But you weren't alone anymore.
"Easy... easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy... pull out your heart to make the being alone easy. Easy..."
You bowed in front of the crowd as a round of applause replaced your voice and music. It was exhilarating, the adrenaline not wanting to leave your body. You mumbled a soft thank you in the microphone before leaving the stage, tripping on the last step. Onyankopon was waiting for you with a large bouquet of peonies and daffodils, your eyes widening at the beautiful flowers and sweet scent.
"This is for you, miss." He smiled, but his smile was hiding something and you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.
"Thank you, but you didn't have to!"
"Oh, it's not from me." Onyankopon pursed his lips. There it was. You looked at the card attached to the bouquet — You are as radiating as the sun, but as cold as the moon. E.S. The message was written in perfectly neat calligraphy.
"E.S.? Any idea who that might be?" You tucked the card between the flowers as you walked with the mobster in the dressing room.
"I know exactly who that is." He sighed, eyes narrowing at the bouquet. "Inspector Erwin Smith, chief of police. He handed me the flowers personally."
"Isn't he working for you?" You removed the heavy earrings from your earlobes.
"He is. It appears he likes you." Onyankopon folded his arms across his chest and a man with strawberry-blond hair entered the room, earning disgusted looks from all the half-naked girls there.
"Boss wants to see you." He sneered at you, goosebumps dotting your arms.
"We'll be upstairs soon, Floch."
"No, not you. Just birdie. Chop chop." Floch left the room and you got up. Onyankopon grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks before giving you a concerned gaze.
"Be careful around him. He's... strange."
"I'll keep my guard up." You tried to smile. There were lots of things you didn't know about the men you were working with, so you made a mental note to ask Sasha and Connie about Floch.
"So, I hear you're a prostitute." He bluntly stated, and you flinched at his words. The audacity of this bitch!
"Was." You corrected him. "Besides, it's none of your business."
Your shoulder blades met with a wall and you let out a whimper at the impact. Floch eyed you up and down, his hands holding you in place.
"Everything you do is my business." He sneered, his face leaning closer inch by inch, closing the gap between you. "Ah, you even smell like a whore."
You feel disgusted by that creep, the way he sniffed you twisting your lips into a frown. Onyankopon was right to warn you, and so you slap his face, hard.
"Don't touch me again." You lifted your gown above your ankles and walked up the stairs, with Floch behind you. Fucking pervert.
"Ah, little bird, you've been fantastic!" Zeke greeted you, cigarette between his fingers. "I heard you even received flowers."
"Yes, from Erwin Smith." You nod, eyes on Floch's shit-eating grin.
"Good. I want you to meet with him after your show tomorrow." Your boss smiled and your eyes drifted to the healing wound in your left hand. You knew you caouldn't say no. "I suspect he'll want to recruit you as a double agent."
"Do I accept?"
"Of course, but you'll be telling him exactly what I tell you."
"Understood."
"You may go. Don't forget to take your pay from Armin."
"Yes, sir." You gently bowed your head in respect and left. Floch whispered whoreas you passed him and you gritted your teeth.
"Say, Connie, can I ask you something?" You watched your roommate unbox some bottles of fancy liquor.
"Sure! What's on your mind?" He asked, focused on his task.
"What can you tell me about Floch?"
Connie almost dropped the bottle, his eyes finding yours. "Just that you should stay away from him."
Sasha walked in with what you assumed to be a bag full of drugs and that's when it clicked — they were going to put the drugs in the boxes and ship them. Clever.
"Floch is insane." The brown-eyed girl scrunched her nose. "He's obsessed with Eren and thinks Zeke should step down and let his brother take his place. Why? Did he do anything to you?"
"Yes and no." You proceeded to explain what happened back at the club to your roommates and the look of disgust on their faces only confirmed what you assumed.
So far, you decided to only trust Sasha, Connie and Onyankopon, and hope that Zeke wouldn't give up his title. Otherwise, you'd end up dead in a ditch, and the one who’d put a bullet between your eyes was Floch himself.
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tagging @mxhi
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tiramisiyu · 3 years
Text
【未定事件簿】  Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-14 Translation
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Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video
Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16
Sickroom
When I woke up again, I was in a sickroom at the Stellis Municipal Hospital.
MC: Ugh…
Xia Yan: You’re awake!
What first popped into my vision was Xia Yan’s face.
And my hand was being held tightly in his.
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Xia Yan: How does it feel? Does it hurt anywhere? I’ll call a doctor over!
There was nothing disguised in his eyes that shone with joy as he looked at me.
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MC: I’m pretty alright…
MC: You asked so much all at once, so how do I answer it all…
Xia Yan: Sorry, I just got too happy when I saw you wake…
Xia Yan: You’ve been sleeping for a whole day – are you hungry? What do you want to eat? I’ll buy it for you!
Xia Yan’s hair was an utter mess, and there were black circles under his eyes.
I reached out in concern, patting his hair gently.
MC: Have you been by my side the whole time without sleeping? You’ve even got dark circles.
Xia Yan: Silly… don’t worry about that. This is no big deal – you’re the sick patient here.
There was a bit of self-blame and concern in his voice.
He looked at me without shifting his gaze away, as if scared that I would disappear in the next second.
A long moment after, Xia Yan suddenly came back to his senses.
Xia Yan: Oh right, I’ll go call a doctor over to give you a checkup.
He was just preparing to press the signal bell when I subconsciously grabbed his hand.
MC: No need to rush that much…
Xia Yan’s warm body heat transmitted to me through our interlaced fingers and linked hands.
It took so much for me to hold this hand again. I didn’t want to let go.
I just wanted to stay with him like this for a while.
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MC: I meant… there are some things I wanted to ask you.
Xia Yan: The case stuff, right? Don’t worry – Ji Xiaoyu, Sergeant Li, and the others are all doing well.
Xia Yan: The police also caught Song Heng. They’re currently interrogating him.
MC: Is Ji Xiaoyu also at this hospital?
Xia Yan: Yeah. Though she got closer to drowning than you, she wasn’t in too much trouble, and her injured hand is also being treated.
Xia Yan: She woke a little earlier than you. A few hours ago, when the nurse brought her for an examination, she came to see you.
MC: Then let’s go see her when she has time.
Xia Yan: Sure.
MC: Right, how did you find me?
Xia Yan: After dealing with the event hall parking lot issue, I rushed to where you and Song Heng had agreed to meet.
Xia Yan: After Sphinx heard from the hidden earbud that you had been hit from the mountain road into the river, he immediately contacted the nearby water rescue staff.
Xia Yan: So when I got there, I immediately got on a rescue boat to save you.
MC: So that’s what happened.
MC: Speaking of which, I wonder if Sphinx is willing to meet us in person.
MC: If I can meet him, I want to thank him myself.
Xia Yan: About that… I’ll give him a call and ask. I think that he’ll probably be willing.
MC: Okay!
As we were almost done talking about serious business, another question quietly but quickly occupied my whole mind, urging me to probe Xia Yan.
--
[Flashback]
Xia Yan: What do you want to say? Does it hurt anywhere? What can I do to help you…
MC: Xia… Yan…
These two words took all the strength I had to say.
Xia Yan: I’m here! I’m right here!
MC: I… like you… the most…
Xia Yan: Don’t say that! Don’t say that sort of thing at this sort of time…
[Flashback end]
--
MC: …
What did Xia Yan think about what I said…
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⊳ Ask Xia Yan ⊳ Wait and see
MC: Uh… Xia Yan…
Xia Yan: What?
MC: Back then, on the boat…
Xia Yan: …
I hadn’t even finished speaking when Xia Yan’s face turned red instantly.
 ⊳ Ask Xia Yan ⊳ Wait and see
I really wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
For a moment, Xia Yan and I sank into silence.
Due to nervousness, my hand trembled unconsciously, as if caressing Xia Yan’s palm.
 --
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Xia Yan: Uh, I… actually…
Xia Yan spoke quietly, and I didn’t dare raise my head. His face in my periphery kept getting redder.
???: Miss Lawyer, you’re awake!
Two doctors pushed open the door and walked in, probably because it was time to check the rooms.
The slightly older doctor between the two glanced ambiguously at Xia Yan’s and my tightly clasped hands, then laughed proudly at the colleague beside him.
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???: I win, Little Xu. You’re paying for lunch today.
Doctor Xu: Hah, if room-checking were later by 10 minutes, I would’ve won.
MC: ???
???: Sorry about that… I know we came at a bad time, but room-checking happens at set times. I can’t do anything about it.
???: Don’t worry, we’ll just ask a few questions, and then we’ll leave immediately!
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Xia Yan: …
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MC: …
This teasing tone sounded familiar for some reason.
MC: (This tone with its subtle hints is really familiar, but I don’t remember meeting him before…)
MC: May I ask who you are?
Yang Xiao: I’m Yang Xiao. You could consider me as… an old friend of Xia Yan’s.
MC: Old friends? How did you two meet? I didn’t know Xia Yan had a doctor friend.
Yang Xiao: That’s all his fault. He never brings me up.
Xia Yan: Bro Yang… be serious.
Xia Yan glared at him.
Yang Xiao: I met Xia Yan at his antiques shop. My significant other likes cleaning antiques a lot, so I go to his place a lot to buy stuff.
Yang Xiao: And then we ended up getting more familiar.
MC: So that’s how it was.
MC: Uh, it might be a bit weird if I ask this… but I keep feeling like I’ve heard your voice before. Have we met?
Yang Xiao: Uh… I’m guessing that it’s because I was also there during the river rescue.
Yang Xiao: I was the one who went rescuing with Xia Yan and pulled Ji Xiaoyu onto the boat.
MC: So that’s what happened! Thank you so much!
MC: Although, why were you there back then?
Yang Xiao: Uh, just coincidence.
Yang Xiao jabbed at Doctor Xu beside him with his arm.
Doctor Xu: Right, we heard that you faced off the criminals directly to save someone, which is why you fell into the river.
Doctor Xu: The situation back then must have been very dangerous, right?
Doctor Xu: Your boyfriend was beside himself when he brought you in.
I snuck a glance at Xia Yan. The blush on his face had extended down to his neck.
MC: Is that so…
MC: (Xia Yan didn’t deny it, so is he acquiescing…)
Xia Yan: Alright alright, you just woke, so don’t talk so much – you’ll get tired.
Yang Xiao: Yes yes yes, Miss Lawyer, you just need to concern yourself with listening.
Yang Xiao: Little Xu, keep going. Give her a good recount on what happened before.
Xia Yan glared furiously at Yang Xiao, while Yang Xiao fearlessly stuffed a water kettle into Xia Yan’s hands.
Yang Xiao: Xia Yan, I know you don’t want to hear people recount the scene of your social death.
Yang Xiao: Here’s an opportunity for you – go get some water in here.
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Xia Yan: Yang Xiao, you—
Yang Xiao grinned at me, his voice full of suggestion.
Yang Xiao: Miss Lawyer must want to know about what happened, right?
MC: I…
Yang Xiao: I can tell by your expression that you really want to know.
Yang Xiao: Xia Yan, aren’t you going to go get the water?
Yang Xiao spoke as he pushed Xia Yan out of the sickroom.
After, he and Doctor Xu spoke, one at a time, as they recounted what had happened before.
--
[Flashback]
When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, I was immediately sent to the emergency room.
Doctor Xu: Where’s her family?
Xia Yan: That’s me!
Doctor Xu: The first aid measures may require some emergency operations. Please sign your name.
Doctor Xu: What is your relationship with the patient? Husband and wife or siblings?
Xia Yan: We… have no legal relation…
Doctor Xu: Then I’m sorry, but you do not have the power to sign. Please contact her other family members.
Xia Yan: …
Yang Xiao: Little Xu, the situation’s urgent. Focus on the emergency treatment first.
[Flashback end]
--
Doctor Xu: Two hours later, when I got out of the emergency room, he was still sitting by the room door.
Doctor Xu: When we pushed you back onto the sickbed, he also stayed by your bedside, refusing to take a single step away.
Doctor Xu: Doctor Yang and I explained to him several times that you were alright and would wake soon.
Doctor Xu: He could eat something and rest a bit – but he refused.
Doctor Xu: When Doctor Yang said, “when she wakes and sees that you haven’t even changed out of your drenched clothes, she’ll definitely feel sad”, he finally changed clothes.
My heart was a mix of emotions – embarrassed, emotional, concerned… but I felt even more apologetic.
I suddenly understand why Xia Yan was always saying “sorry” to me after being injured.
He had to face danger, but this way, I would often be worried and sad. But there was nothing else he could do…
Doctor Xu: So, Doctor Yang and I made a bet earlier – what was he going to do when you woke up?
Doctor Xu: Doctor Yang said that he’d disappoint us and would just be holding your hand at most. But I thought, well, young people…
MC: !!!
Yang Xiao finally cut in.
Yang Xiao: Little Xu, I’d like to speak to her in private for a bit.
Doctor Xu: No wonder you asked me to play along with you and recount what happened before we came in. Looks like you’ve got a lot of objectives going on.
Doctor Xu: Sure, then I’ll go check the rooms.
Doctor Xu smiled at me, then left.
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Yang Xiao: Sorry for using these methods to speak to you alone.
MC: No problem. Although, Doctor Yang, what did you want to say to me?
Yang Xiao: I just want to ask you a few questions. Of course, I’m just asking out of my own curiosity – it has nothing to do with Xia Yan.
MC: Feel free.
Yang Xiao: As a doctor, I’ve long learned to not put too much weight on life and death.
Yang Xiao: But this must be the first time you’ve experienced this sort of thing, right?
Yang Xiao: Actually, professions like lawyer or… uh, police are all somewhat high risk, correct?
Yang Xiao: Have you thought about changing occupations? Otherwise, wouldn’t your other half be too pitiful, having a significant other who might be in life-threatening danger at any given moment?
MC: …
MC: Doctor Yang, thank you for asking me these questions.
MC: The fact that you took the initiative to ask these shows that you really do see Xia Yan as a good friend, which is why you’re thinking for him.
Yang Xiao: … I’m not as good as you say.
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MC: But I won’t change occupations, and I won’t make my other half change occupations.
MC: I know that some occupations require one to face various dangers at any point in time, but I respect their decision.
MC: As for potentially encountering life-threatening danger anytime…
MC: Even if one is a healthy, normal person, it’s hard to guarantee what their next day will be like.
MC: Which is why the life promise oath is “for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part”.
MC: Plus, because of what happened this time, I’ve learned even more to treasure what I have right now.
Yang Xiao: Treasure?
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MC: Yep! To treasure everyone around me, as well as every minute spent with them.
--
Xia Yan carried the kettle with one hand and carried several bottles of mineral water in the other, standing silently outside the door.
The conversation between the girl and Yang Xiao transmitted clearly to his ears, falling into his heart.
“For richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part”.
“Treasure everyone around me, as well as every minute spent with them.”
Xia Yan: …
Xia Yan: MC, you…
Xia Yan quietly called the girl’s name. Right then, it felt like the air around him had warmed up.
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Xia Yan: You’re a lot more courageous than me…
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Text
Comfort drafts collection - Prosciutto
Trigger warning(s): mentions of self mutilation, self esteem issues, depression Very self indulgent and venty, so please take caution
You were surprised you had enough energy for your stand to be summoned. Grateful Dead lounged with your stand, Creep, on the floor of your shared bedroom. Creep’s long, porcelain digits twirled Grateful Dead’s purple tendrils. They were positioned similarly to yourself and your boyfriend, Creep laying on its belly with GD propped up by its arms next to it.
You wished your stand wouldn’t betray your well-hidden emotions with the recently switched tragedy mask it wore. Every benign touch risked transmitting your thoughts to your boyfriend.
Prosciutto was always supportive, but he had been cautious around you recently. And while you appreciated the effort, you weren’t the type of person to just get up and start back over when you’d fallen. It took finding you in the tub with self inflicted wounds for him to realize that maybe it wasn’t just a small bout of sadness. It had been embarrassing to admit those things to him, to let him see you so weak. With the pre-existing stigma against mental health and his rather traditional views, you were pleasantly surprised that he didn’t just leave you right then and there. He was quick to change his tune, being more gentle with you.
Creep scooted closer, wrapping its thin, black arms around Grateful Dead’s torso, causing it to topple over. Your stand clutched on to your boyfriend’s tightly, refusing to let go.
Next to you, Prosciutto turned a page in his magazine. Readers were on the tip of his nose, making him look like the grumpy old man he was. A cute grumpy old man. You turned your head, resting it flat on the bedsheets.
I really need to take a shower.
The warm meat of Prosciutto’s palm covered your hand. He linked his fingers with yours very gingerly.
“If you wanted to shower with me, you could’ve just asked, my sweet.”
You shut your eyes and sighed. Creep was doing it again, relaying your thoughts through Grateful Dead to your boyfriend. While it was easier to articulate how you felt, you wished you could control what could and could not be sent.
If you take one now, you can go back to bed and stop worrying about it.
And you hated that Prosciutto used your stand against you. You hated that he was able to hear your weaknesses and confront you about them.
I don’t want to get up.
Washing myself would be too difficult.
That’s why I’ll shower with you.
That’s embarrassing. Being washed by my boyfriend like a little kid.
And you know I don’t like showing my body.
The bed shifted. He was obviously turning to look at you, probably making a sour face. You didn’t bother moving.
“It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before,” he stated matter-of-factly. But he was quick to soften his tone, “if you really don’t want to, then I won’t make you.”
I probably should.
You carefully pushed yourself up, joints creaking from laying in the same position for roughly a day.
Prosciutto led you into the bathroom, helping you strip your clothes off and ushering you into the shower. He quickly stripped himself, setting out towels for the two of you.
As soon as he stepped in with you, you tucked your head into his chest, holding on to him with a tight hug. A hand came to rest on the middle of your back, the other controlling his spaceship of a shower that you had yet to figure out. You jumped when the cold water hit your back, your boyfriend chuckling so sweetly. The water quickly warmed up.
Prosciutto carefully went through your routine, cleaning your face, lathering your hair with your special shampoo, washing your body. The last thing was difficult, what with you holding on to him like a koala, but he was able to do it through some gentle chiding and maneuvering.
In return, you got to untie his adorable gnocchi buns and rinse his hair. He insisted that he clean himself, but you ended up winning that argument. You stroked his scarred arm with the washcloth, the zipper design a stark pink against his milky skin from where he had gotten his arm reattached by Don Buccellati. You didn’t pretend to understand the logistics of how it worked or what happened, you were just happy your handsome, precious boyfriend returned to you in one piece.
You were able to return to your safehaven against his chest while you waited for his conditioner to sit. His hands found the knots in your shoulders, applying light pressure to them
“You know that song I always listen to when I’m really upset and I don’t want you to talk to me?” You asked during the moment of quiet. Your gaze stayed on his chest. If you looked, if you caved in, you’d cry. And crying in front of your boyfriend was the worst thing.
He muttered an affirmation, nudging your forehead. You held on to him like he was the last thing in the world.
“I feel like a monster.”
Prosciutto sighed through his nose, touching the tip of his nose to yours.
“But you’re not a monster,” he murmured, cupping your wet cheek.
You shook your head, gulping back tears.
“I know I’ll never understand, and I won’t pretend that I do, but you’re not a monster,” he emphasized by bumping his forehead against yours. “You want to scratch off your skin because you don’t feel clean. You want to clean yourself from the inside out because nothing feels right. I know, baby, I know it hurts. To feel disgusting in your own skin.”
He paused to find the words. The tears that dribbled down your cheeks were lovingly wiped away, treated as if they were raindrops.
“But you’re you, and you don’t want to be you, but you have no choice. You have to wake up as you, listen to your head, to live as you, and you’re stronger for it. You’re so strong, my dear. Because you’re here with me, even through all of that. I know men who faint at the slightest obstacle, but you, you, you face them and the ones inside. And no monster could do that.”
Before you could cry and protest that you were a monster from hell, your boyfriend, your sweet, sweet boyfriend, brought you in for a passionate, possessive kiss. Warmth, along with the paralyzing block in your chest that stopped you from sobbing, bloomed through your body. Prosciutto kept you tight against his warm, wet body.
His lips were just as soft as they’d always been, tasting of tobacco and his late night drink. Tears poured from your eyes as you cried through his kiss. You loved him, so, so very much.
He seemed reluctant to pull away, but he did. You hesitantly brought your gaze up to look into his smiling face and blue eyes. They were filled with love, admiration, undying devotion. You were sure that your eyes held the same affections.
And in that moment, everything was okay.
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Text
First light, last love
Summary: a lazy, fluffy morning in bed with your love, Santiago Garcia.
Author’s note: Very quick blurb in response to an ask- not my best but hope you like it! You can decide whether he means literal breakfast or “breakfast” *wink wink* at the end, depending on how you wanna be woken up.
Warnings: language, it’s Santi.
Word count: short and sweet. 
Tagging: @phoenixhalliwell​ @lostgirlheather​ @justrunamok​ @aellynera​ @damerondjarin​ @blushingwueen​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @holybatflapexpert​ @himbopoes​ @arabellathorne​ @yourbucky084​ @mandoplease​ @mylifeliterally​ @arkofblake​ @multifandomlife22​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @aisling-beatha​ @stardust-galaxies​ 
GIF by @twillight
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The morning sun is the first caress on your skin, gently easing you awake. Santi’s hands are the second, pulling you from the warm embrace of slumber and into the warm embrace of him.
As you stir, you feel the sturdiness and familiar shape of Santi’s body pressed firmly to your back as he forms a big spoon around you. You absorb the texture of bare skin on skin as his nose nuzzles into the back of your neck, and his hand languidly wanders over your belly and your thighs. His fingertips trace symbols on to your flesh, which only those fluent in the language of love might hope to ever decipher, easing your consciousness into the waking world and to a place where you feel completely safe and content and held; in his arms.
You hum softly to signal to him you’re awake, and a blissed out smile eases over your lips, the joy that comes from waking up next to your love and enjoying this closeness spilling visibly out of you.
“Morning, Princesa,” he breathes, hot air and the deep rumble of his voice fanning over your neck. Santi presses a gentle kiss to your neck, propping himself up onto his elbow to allow his kisses to journey along your jawline, and you turn your head to greet his lips with yours, giggling into the kiss.
Every time you kiss him it feels like arriving home. Each moment with him holding you feels like breaking dawn. Warm, fresh yet familiar, and an inconceivable blessing.
You peel your eyelids open, failing to quell the happy smile which beams out of you as soon as your gaze greets his, those warm, coffee eyes the only wake-up call you need.
You love waking up slow with him like this. No alarms; no place to be, except beside each other.
“Morning, handsome,” you say softly, as his broad hand comes to gently cup your cheek.
Those hands of his. You love them so. Those hands which were trained to be lethal, but which felt like they were made to love you. When they feel so good against you, what other purpose could they possibly have?
Instead of craning your neck, you swivel until you are flat on your back, Santi’s prone body still tesselated neatly into your side. He smiles back at you, his eyes skimming over your face and hair as if he is seeing you afresh with the start of the new day; even though he has looked at you so often, you sometimes question how he could possibly still wonder at the sight of you. Even when you’re like this, still shaking off the dregs of sleep, face and hair still fresh from the pillow, Santi’s eyes are glowing with adoration.
Santi runs his hand over your contours, fingertips guiding his gaze and sweeping languidly over your chest and stomach and legs. The callouses of him rub against the smoothness of your skin as he cups handfuls of your soft parts in his palms as if you are his daily bread. As if he might bring you to his lips to sustain him. After all, how could he live without you?
As you enjoy his touch, light filters intermittently through the curtains, hazy and half-cocked, ocassionally finding its aim on your face or throwing bars of gold daybreak over Santi’s chest, sun glinting off his dog tags. 
“Holy shit, baby,” Santi breathes as he studies you. “Once again you’re even more beautiful to me than yesterday, and less beautiful to me than you will be tomorrow.” Santi’s lips quirk up playfully, as his fingertips continue to wander the planes of you. He’s never lost when he’s touching you. He’s never lost, like he has been so often in dense jungle, tunred around and scared for his life. His fingers always know their path. His lips always know thier route to your lips, even in the dark. And yet, although he knows you so well, he never tires of you.
“Fuck, Santi,” you say, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the light, feeling out your limbs and emerging gradually from the heaviness of sleep. “Just when I think you’ve run out of ways to charm me, you come out with something like that. Before you’ve even had coffee.”
You turn your body towards him and Santi lowers himself back to the pillow. You shuffle until you lie nose to nose with each other, shimmying the blankets down until they rest across your hips and tangling your thighs with the meat of his.
“I fuckin’ hope I never run out of ways to charm you, preciosa,” Santi says in earnest.
A lazy grin inches over his face, and you enjoy the creases which form around his eyes and mouth. Then, muffling his confession, Santi dips his head forward to nuzzle kisses into your neck. “Plus... alright, I confess to raiding the greeting card aisle yesterday while I was waiting for ‘Fish to checkout the beers.”
Your fingers filter into his grizzled curls as a soft chuckle shakes your chest up against him, and you absorb all the textures of him possible as his stubble grazes pleasantly along your collarbone and your breasts, soothed by lazy caresses of his lips and tongue. “That one made me think of you, cariño,” he whispers, his voice entirely earnest again as he tips his chin to look up at you from beneath his lashes and heavy brows with sincere eyes. 
You snicker softly as you nose into his curls, planting a loving kiss to the top of his head and lingering there to inhale the unique scent of him. Wrapping your arms around him more tightly, you tug him into your chest, and Santi hums contentedly, thoroughly dissolving into your embrace as you bring him closer and tangle limbs with him.
You feel so happy you might float to the ceiling, if you weren’t tethered by the blankets and by his embrace.
You both tug in a deep, steadying breath and exhale it together, enjoying nothing but the silence and the presence of each other for a few, extended moments.
“How is it-” Santi eventually begins to wonder idly as your arms encase him “-that I spend most of my time surrounded by a trained squad of killers, but I never feel safer than when you hold me like this?”
“Hmm. You didn’t get that from a Hallmark card, did you?” you tease, deflecting some of the raw emotion in his tone with humour, as it almost feels too overwhelming to handle, sometimes, Santi’s love. “That one was all you, you charmer?”
His words have a happiness blooming right from the core of you, and, you hope, suffusing back into him as you share this moment of loving each other, transmitting love back and forth through every touch and brush of lips and fingers and skin.
It is moments and mornings like this which you love the most. Not the grand gestures of love. Not the greeting card moments or the surprises or the special ocassions. The mundaness of love is everything to you. The simple, small joys with Santi are the ones you treasure the most.
“Yeah,” he jokes. “The rest said: everyone knows not to fuck with you, mi Reina, because they saw you tear Will a new one when he was a dick at our housewarming, and now cartels and drug lords cower in fear. Happy Thanksgiving.”
You laugh, a lilting sound which draws Santi’s eyes back to your lips, and you flop back on to the mattress, your arms raised above you on the pillow. Santi takes the opportunity to roll on top of you, craving even more contact. He boxes you in securely with his arms, and nudges your knees apart so he can lie in between your legs, hips pressing up against you. The weight of him against you, the feel of the solid mass of him on top of you is such a comfort, grounding you entirely when only moments ago you were lost to your dreams; still, moments like this with your love seem beyond your wildest dreams.
The chain of Santi’s dog tags jangle and pool on to your chest as he settles over you, the cool metal a pleasing contrast against your warm skin and the body heat emanating off of him. You regard them warily, ever since that time they chipped your tooth during a particularly vigorous embrace, but you have grown to love the familiar extension of him, and the reminder that although he is lethal, he is nothing but soft for you.
You follow the bobbles of the chain up and over his smooth chest, corded neck. To his face. God, he’s handsome. All over and at all times, but especially in the mornings like this, when he’s in nothing but his boxers and his watch and that chain. When his skin is bare and warm against you except for these shocks of cool metal. When he is still slightly grogged and unguarded, fresh from sleep. You love seeing his mussed mop of curls and the overnight sprouting of his stubble. Love having him all to yourself.
Santi swoops his soft lips down to kiss you again, and as he pulls back up you admire the happy glow in his heavy-lidded eyes. Admire the flexed muscles in his shoulders as he holds himself above you, and the soft curve of his belly pressing against yours. You drink him in, and you know he’s doing the same with you. 
While enjoying this moment, the like of which seems so rare these days, it suddenly strikes you how long you have gone uninterrupted.
“Santi, the house is quiet. What did you do to the boys?”
Santi grins down at you like the handsome devil he is and greedily kisses almost every inch of your face, bit by bit. “Sent the boys off to lake. Wanted you all to myself today.”
You smile broadly and gratefully at your thoughtful, adoring man. You were really enjoying the week out at the lake with the squad, but the boys could be a lot, and you did agree; you wanted Santi all to yourself for a little bit too. Ok, a lot.
“Thought we could have a lazy morning then take a picnic up to the coast? Found a good place you can do some reading while I lie in your lap and gaze longingly at you?”
You look at him adoringly and Santi takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue languidly along your lower lip, humming into the cave of your mouth as you grant him access and slowly mingle your lips and tongue with his like you have all the time in the world. 
You wind your arms lovingly around his neck, and pucker your lips to plant a delicate kiss to the tip of his strong, perfect nose. “You’re a genius, Santi. In fact, you know what? I love you more than I did yesterday, and less than I will tomorrow.”
Santi doesn’t smile at your words, despite the playful grin on your own face. He simply looks at you in wonderment again.  As if he’s seeing you fresh. Like every moment with you is a breaking dawn. “Fuck, Princesa. Who’s the charmer now?” Santi looks at you as though he’s the luckiest man in the world, and that never fails to floor you.
Yes, these were without doubt your favourite kind of mornings. You treasure these small moments together, where you have all the time in the world to adore each other. And you did; you do. You adore each other more and more every single day.
Sometimes, perhaps, waking is a sweeter dream than slumber, when your love makes every moment like a new day. Makes each feeling cheesy enough to write in a greeting card.
You smile conspiratorially, fluttering your eyelashes at Santi. Pushing your luck, even though you’re already the luckiest woman in the world. “Have I charmed you enough for you to make breakfast, my love?”
“Breakfast, mi Reina?” Santi purrs, pumping his eyebrows. “You just lie back and I’ll take care of breakfast. I’ll take care of you, ‘cause, fuck, do I love you too.”
Yes, this is it. This is definitely what dreams are made of.
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camdentown-library · 4 years
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Sigurd Styrbjornson || NSFW headcanons
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Requested? Hey  sweet thing! Just found you and rly like the way you write and the  devotion you put into your works for such a small fandom! Keep up the  good work!!  I'm rly a big sap for Sigurd since playing acv and was  wondering if you have time to write some nsfw headcanons for him. I  thought you'd be the best one to turn to, since you've written about him  so good the first time around!❣ Love you,  wish you all the best -  ingeniouscollectionthing🐍
Ok, let's start from the beginning. Sigurd is not always present at home, so your moments of pleasure could be marked in long and I mean long times of absence.
But perhaps it is this distance that makes your sex intense with emotions ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Sigurd is a bit of a prima donna, perhaps all of us have realized that slightly.
This guy really likes to be flattered and if he notices you missed him a lot in your life well...well he won't stop asking for attention.
During the banquet of his return, the young jarl cannot help but observe you in your every gesture, smiling greedy at your every smile exchanged with some sweet words together with your friends.
Sigurd has two methods of approach in this case:
In the first, if he is not too tired from the journey he could leave his throne empty and approach you and your friends vaguely. "Friends! I hope this party is to your liking, my heart fills with joy to see you again" and then his gaze would fall on you with a satisfied smile "Ah y/n, show yourself, you have grown a lot during my absence. If you were a flower, I would say that you are in full bloom" he would say gently taking your hand and making you twirl gently, thus being able to admire every single corner of your body.
"Allow me to show you the various riches I brought from distant lands, I have so much to tell you" he would propose smiling and as soon as he sees you nodding curiously, he would lick his lips spiced with mead. Oooh he had so many things to show you that night...
In the second, the young jarl turns into a ravenous predator to say the least, while he drinks his mead he would continue to observe you for the duration of the stick, until his gaze penetrates you deeply, making your eyes turn to his figure in the distance and causing you to lose heart. At that point you decide to "challenge the god among men" and slowly leaving the banquet hall you decide to head towards your home, wondering if Sigurd would have been bold enough to follow you, or maybe if all this was just the fruit of your mind.
But when you were by the door of your house the scent of Sigurd's spicy skin inebriated you, before feeling his lips kiss your neck from behind. "How much did you miss me?" he whispered in your ear at that point.
Sigurd is pretty romantic most of the time, other times he can be quite physical and hungry. SPOILER: Especially after his mind is split between Sigurd's will and Tyr's.
But let's start in small steps!
What could make Sigurd's sex drive grow? Well a fairly broad question. There are various reasons why this ginger-boy would like to grant his wild wishes with you: distance could be one of them, or when you demonstrate your wisdom or your skill in war strategy (if you're wondering, yes. Sigurd likes people with an open and bright mind), needless to say he might turning on when you sit on his lap while he tells you about one of his many adventures, or *drum roll* when you ask him to take you with him in his next travels, rest assured that the same night you will spend it making love as much as he is happy.
Unlike many Vikings, Sigurd is a refined man, he does not like having sex in open places or in places where you can be discovered. Being disturbed in this ritual could really, really make him nervous. He wants all your attention to be on him and he wants to focus solely on pleasing you.
Starting from this principle, we can therefore ascertain that our ginger-jarl does not like quickies. Absolutely NO
And we can guess that her sex sessions are very, very long. Sigurd is young and also has a powerful libido (Sigurd: BeCaUsE i Am A dEsCeNdAnT oF tHe GoDs!11!1!!!) Expect at least two rounds, that's the least of his demand, so take a seat.
Sigurd doesn't really have a preference between foreplay or "go straight to the point". In short, you can easily take all the time in the world for both of you, right?
He would love to kiss your forehead and cheek, then descend to your neck and fill it with a wet trail of kisses, while his ginger beard tickles your sensitive and delicate skin.
Kisses on the lips? Yes, but ... you have to deserve it. What do you mean? I repeat, Sigurd loves flattery, but he also loves to tease you, if he senses that you want to kiss him, he would start to smile blissfully and when he slowly brings his lips to yours, he would stop a few millimeters from them, observing amused, how close you try to they to kiss them as he walks away from you giggling.
"What's the magic word?" you answer with a simple "please" and in less than a second you can taste those lips so sweet and spicy.
Sigurd would love to gently caress your face with his knuckles with one hand during your make out session, or put his thumb on your lower lip, stroking it with a sensual way.
Another thing Sigurd loves is lying on the bed and watching you take off your clothes and when he sees you completely naked, he would smile as satisfied as a child at Christmas and by saying a tender "Come closer, my dear" he would place a hand around your hips and then kiss your soft abdomen, looking at you with dreamy eyes.
Does Sigurd have a size-kink? YES BRUH YES! listen to me, ok? This guy will be at least 187cm tall and I'm 100% sure. He loves to take you from behind, to observe how small you are in comparison to him, he would love to caress your fragile body with his wide hands and above all he would love to lower his torso towards you, and gently grabbing your face with one hand, he would guide you to turn it towards him to be able to kiss your lips intensely
Another position he likes is definitely the cowgirl, reversed or not. This especially when he loses an arm. But that doesn't mean it will leave you in full control over the pace of the thrusts. His firm hand on your hips or on your buttock will guide you when you need to speed up the pace or when you need to make it slower and more sensual.
Big No in the sexual sphere of Sigurd? Never and I say never deny him orgasm. No! You will only have him nervous and trust me, your little moment of pleasure would end instantly. Your task is also to satisfy him, if you cannot purge him of his stress, your physical relationship will certainly be a little difficult.
Does he like to give or receive? Both, Sigurd loves when you give him head, he loves to feel your hands caress his sculpted belly with his nails, while he dictates the rhythm of your lips, with one hand through your silky hair, he wouldn't make you choke, the the last thing he wants is to hurt you, what matters is that you both enjoy the moment.
And in giving? Oh ladies, make yourself comfortable! He loves being between your legs, he could die between them and he would show up in the Vlhalla saying he died with honor. He is a licensed tease, he loves to find your every weak point and pay attention to him by delighting in your sweet moans, and when he feels that you have reached a certain sensitivity, he would start fingering you with two fingers and no matter how much you tell him to stop, to slow down or otherwise, he will not stop until your legs shake exhausted and your moans are transmitted into small whimpers of pleasure.
Small note: when he finished eating you out, pls, put a hand under his chin and ask him to kiss you or praise him by saying "my jarl", you will drive him crazy from head to toe.
Does he like to overstimulate you? yes, 100%. He loves to be aware that only he can give you so much pleasure and love.
Angry sex? Nope, nope he usually sulks or argues with you, he doesn't like to physically vent his anger.
Jealous sex? yeah...but not often. I think he wouldn't do it at the exact moment he feels jealous. I believe that Sigurd is someone who keeps certain feelings inside and outsiders in due course. Maybe while you are having an intense sex session, he would put his mouth close to your circle and say "Tell me my dear, do you think that idiot who was desperately flirting with you, would she/he be able to love you like I do?"
Does he like to experiment? Lmao yes, i mean. I've always had this image in my head, of him saying "Love, look what I brought you from the far eastern lands?" and BOOM! He shows you a book where he shows various unknown positions or various ways of foreplay and with an amused smile he would ask you, "Will we try any?"
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vminity21 · 4 years
Text
The Art of You | myg
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Pairing: artist!yoongi x universitystudent!reader, friendshiptolovers!au
Word Count: 1,578
Genre: fluff/soft
Warning(s): None, Rated: pg
Summary: A painting Yoongi has been working on reveals his true feelings that he has for you in the most beautiful way imagined. Dedicated and was requested by @suhdays​ , who also created the beautiful banner for this blurb. Thank you.
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A tan apron clings to Yoongi’s frame while he scrunches the sleeves of his sweatshirt halfway up his arms. Converse pat along the plastic flooring while he settles the painting onto the ground. It is nearly finished, and the inspiration is revealed in just the smallest intricacies- details that remind him of you.  Gentle transmits of music reverberate within the small space, and he readies his paint upon the palette you gifted him a year prior before he discovered the budding emotions, he has for you.
Aligning a picture of what he plans on adding to the main canvas, he carefully traces the lining with his fingers, concentrating solely on whatever he intends on creating to make the masterpiece complete. Dark strands flop past his eyes while he positions himself over the canvas, palette steady in his left hand while his free hand grips the handle of a petite paintbrush. Two bracelets decorate his painting wrist, but he is ever so careful than to let them touch any part of the dampened streaks.
Heavy footsteps trample into the room, slinging your bookbag over a chair in the corner, a brief sigh brushes your lips. Yoongi knew you would be due soon from your class at university, and you are too exhausted to fully pay attention to what Yoongi is finalizing. He has been working on a new project for weeks now, but he refuses to tell you who it is for. Sometimes, Yoongi likes to keep to himself, especially when it comes to his art, yet he has been quite successful with some of the artwork he has accomplished and sold within the past year.
His lips grace a small smirk, happiness spreading along his chest with being in your presence- something he has been looking forward to all day. “Yoongi, I’m home,” you bellow, stacking a few notebooks onto the tiny table in preparation to continue the homework you would so graciously like not to do.
“About time you showed up,” he teases, swiping a bigger paintbrush along a plain sheet of paper to observe if this is the color he would like to use. Noticing the palette, he had set down for the moment, you smile to yourself. He really loves his palette- the only one he owns that you happened to give him, yet he refuses to buy more, especially since the one you bought him is covered in faint stains from past achievements. You never understood it, but he takes it with him everywhere he goes, and the one time he thought he forgot it, he almost lost his mind. Thankfully, Namjoon, Yoongi’s roommate, found it behind a dresser where it must have fallen without Yoongi’s knowledge.
“I still don’t get why you are panicking, Yoons. I am sure there are some palettes in one of these stores here,” plus you did not have any issue with purchasing him another one, “Want to check them out?”
“Not really,” he murmured, timidly looking away from you while he anxiously awaited the doting text from Namjoon. What you are unaware of, is that palette you surprised him with is the truest good luck charm he has ever received. Because of you, every time he used that specific palette, his artwork has been recognized by thousands of individuals throughout the country. Because of you, he is determined to continue his passion with the gift you gave him held firmly in his left hand.
“Okay,” you sigh softly in confusion, “Well then would you like to grab some coffee until Joon replies? I’m sure it will turn up.”
Yoongi shakes his head briefly to situate his hair while the memory dissipates for the time being. “How long have you been in here? Have you even eaten anything?” You always worry about him because when he gets too focused into what he is doing, sometimes he may forget to hydrate, as well as eat, yet you can relate due to college being so overwhelming. You notice the white mask tucked under his chin, his earrings gleam beneath the light, and you cannot help but fondly gaze at how handsome your friend is. You met him a year ago, and although you have always had feelings for him, you feared that he didn’t feel the same, and when you stumbled upon his talent for the arts, you were determined to gift him with something related to what he loves to do.
“I was thinking we could grab dinner as soon…” his words trail as he dots the brush along certain areas of the canvas. You can’t help but curiously tilt your head to see if you can figure out what it is, he is creating, but from the angle and distance from where Yoongi is, you can’t quite see it yet. “… as I am…” He is so enraptured in his work that he forgets to finish his sentence and you playfully shake your head at him before turning to your studies.
Uncertain of how much time has ticked away into the evening, you do not understand how Yoon’s thighs cannot be burning from how long he poses in deep concentration. “Who needs exercise,” you joke, running your fingertips along your eyes to awake them if even possible. “You know,” you bring your voice up in volume for Yoongi to hear, “I’m not going to lie, I’m actually excited to see what you’ve conjured up,” you confess; there has not been a completion that you haven’t loved from Yoongi’s extraordinary talent.
“It’s definitely different from what I’ve done before,”
“Oh really?” Your attention is now returned to your notebook and with pencil in hand, you scribble random lines along the sides to prevent yourself from blushing. He has such an effect on you, and you wonder how he hasn’t realized it. “What inspired it? Give me a clue.”
“You mean, who?”
Pausing, with furrowed eyebrows, you ponder through your brain on who Yoongi could be referring to. “It’s a who this time?”
“Believe it or not,” he says, and you hadn’t taken into account the way he places his hands on his hips, longingly staring at you while you rack your thoughts with whatever guess you can muster.
“Okay but where’s my clue?”
“Hm,” he hums to himself trying to not make it as obvious as he would like to, especially if it risks scaring you away. “She loves to getaway. More so when it’s cold and the atmosphere contains the scenery she needs.”
A she? Surprised by the revelation, your heart shatters in different directions, yet you compile yourself enough to remain composure. “A getaway?” You choke, trying to lower your voice to not appear as shocked as you feel. “I’m assuming in the winter?”
“Mhm,” Yoongi responds, “Sometimes she wishes that she could see flowers there though, especially the ones that are her favorite. It’s simply hard when there is always so much snow.”
“Um, is it-?” Despite the tears wanting to burn down your cheeks, you guess a few names that come to mind, hardly being able to realize that Yoongi is talking about you. Exasperated after you have guessed so many wrong answers, Yoongi’s arms drop to his sides while he exhales slowly, gathering himself before sauntering to you. When a soft hand presses to your cheek, you lose all track of sanity; his lips touch yours so gently, it takes you a moment to realize what is happening. Oh! You gasp inwardly. Oh, you want to laugh at yourself for now you see that every fact he uncovered about his painting was him hinting about you.
Your fingers curl into his sweatshirt while you pull him closer, deepening the kiss while your heart flies sporadically along your ribcage. This whole entire time- he has been working on a painting inspired by you. And, this entirety of your friendship, he has thought of you lovingly as much as you have thought about him?
Breathless, he pulls away, but just enough to rest his forehead upon yours, his bangs tickle your face. “Are you ready to see the painting?”
Nodding, you are at a loss for words, the sensation of his kiss still lingering while he takes your hand. Following suit, he bends swiftly to lean the piece against the wall, accepting your hand in his once again as soon as it steadies. Gasping, your eyes widen at the most beautiful scenery you have ever witnessed. Snow capped mountains sketched meticulously with splashes of blues and greys mingle in precise detail to the sparse blades of grass poking from the blanket of white covering the ground. The sky alludes to the beginning of a snowfall, but what your vision gathers in the center of the painting is what touches your heart in ways Yoongi has always been able to prompt.
A bundle of magenta peonies are painted to be growing in resistant to the brutal winds of winter, and in tiny, neatly stroked letters exposes the words you never thought you would hear, or in this case, read.
“I love you.” Yoongi whispers, squeezing your hand as you take it all in.
“Yoongi, it’s- it’s the most beautiful gift.” You cry, him embracing you immediately, the scent of his sweatshirt reaching your nostrils as you cuddle into his frame. “I love you so much.”
And with that, forever awaits, Yoongi expressing his love in a way only he knows how- painted contentedly to the art of you.
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