#i wish i could take the memories and the worries away and bear the weight of it for them

[wazzuppy]

i remember one time i heard something that was like "most women have been or know someone who has been assaulted and most men know or have known someone whose assaulted a person before" and then all at once every memory of girls and women and afabs and fem aligned people i'd ever known telling me about how a man had abused or assaulted them came flooding back to me and i was like. Oh.

[luvolani]

Synopsis- Choso

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Warning(s) fluffy romantic elements. Reader discretion is advised due to fluff and angst and potentially triggering situations.

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Y/N had always imagined prom as a magical night, full of laughter, music, and the kind of romance only found in fairy tales. For years, she had shared countless memories with Choso, her best friend, and the idea of attending prom together had been a dream she held close. When she finally mustered the courage to ask him, his shy, flustered acceptance was a moment she’d cherish forever. They had both blushed, awkwardly yet excitedly, and it felt as if everything was falling into place.

“So… uhm will you go with me?!” She said as she anxiously waited for his answer as she handed him the chocolates she bought for him.

Y/N felt confused as she heard him laugh before it turned into chuckles as she raised her head nervously seeing him smiling while blushing intensely, “Aw man! What a shame I was planning on asking you..” Y/N eyes widened silently as she looked at him.. he was planning on asking me?

“But of course I’ll go with you.. I wasn’t planning on going with anyone else” he said as Y/N smiled brightly before hugging him tightly as he chuckled once again before hugging her back, As there hug broke apart Y/N flusteredly started walking away yelling “I’ll! See you at school!” As Choso had a worried expression on his face as he shook his head before walking away not being able to shake off that stupid smile on his face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day of prom arrived, and Y/N was a bundle of nerves and excitement. Her mother helped her prepare, brushing her hair with a loving touch. “You ready, mi chica?” she asked softly. Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror, feeling a surge of confidence and beauty. She nodded, her heart racing as she was driven to the prom venue.

As soon as she arrived, Y/N sought out her best friend, Nobara. The gymnasium was decorated with sparkling lights and flowing fabric, creating an enchanting atmosphere. Spotting Nobara among the crowd, Y/N rushed over and enveloped her in a warm hug. “Hey, have you seen Choso?” she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“No, not recently,” Nobara replied, her voice comforting. She gave Y/N a reassuring smile. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure he’ll show up. Just have fun, okay?”

Y/N nodded, managing a small smile in return as Nobara and her date headed to the dance floor. Watching them, Y/N felt a pang of loneliness but tried to push it aside. She wandered to the refreshment table and thanked the chef before taking a drink. Sitting alone in a quiet corner, she kept glancing at the clock, her fingers gripping the glass tightly.

As the minutes ticked by, Y/N’s hope began to wane. The once-excited anticipation turned into a gnawing worry. Hours passed, and the vibrant energy of the prom seemed to blur around her. She watched couples dance, laughed, and enjoyed their evening, while she remained a silent observer. The initial excitement faded into a growing emptiness.

Suddenly, tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes. The weight of disappointment and loneliness became too heavy to bear. The smile she had maintained throughout the night crumbled, and she began to sob quietly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hide her tears.

Choso had never shown up.

In that moment, the room felt unbearably large and full of the things she wished could have been different. The joyful chaos of the prom continued around her, but Y/N felt detached from it all. Her best friend, the one she had hoped would be by her side tonight, wasn’t. As she hugged herself feeling too many emotions as the night continued on..

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝓘’𝓶 𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮..𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂‧‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Map

Words: 982

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

James walked into the dorm to find Sirius poring over the map, frowning. He stood in the doorway for a while before clearing his throat.

Sirius jumped, “Fuck! Prongs!”

“Hello to you too.” James sat on the floor next to him. “What are you doing?”

“Just looking at the map,” Sirius mumbled. “I think it’s broken.”

“It absolutely isn’t!” James scoffed. “Why would you even think that?”

“Moony’s disappeared,” Sirius said reluctantly. He didn’t particularly want to explain to James that he’d been watching the map since he saw Remus slip out of the common room with Gideon Prewett, but he supposed he had no choice. “He was in this corridor.” Sirius pointed to an empty spot of map. “Then he vanished.”

“Maybe he found the Room of Requirement.” James laughed. They’d been looking for it for over a year, to no avail. “Decided to keep it all for himself.”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “You think he’d do that?”

“Was he alone?” James asked, knowingly. Sirius’ silence spoke for itself. “Who?”

“Gideon.” He groaned, “Again.”

“Again?” James stared at him. “Do you just sit here and stalk us on the map when we’re gone?”

“If I see Moons sneaking out with someone, I… keep an eye on them.” Sirius didn’t like the way James was looking at him. “I know it’s not healthy.”

“So why do it?”

“Penance.” He said, “For the Snape thing. It could have been me sneaking off with Moony, and it’s my own fault that it’s not.”

James leaned back slightly, taking in Sirius’ slumped shoulders and sad eyes. “Well, firstly, you’re banned from the map.” He cut Sirius’ whine off. “I’m not letting you sit here and torture yourself, Padfoot. You can feel guilty in the common room if you must, but this isn’t healthy, you’re right.”

“I don’t want to be around people right now,” Sirius said quietly. “Everyone’s happy and I feel like I either have to fake it or I worry people.”

James nodded, “Want to play exploding snap up here?”

“You don’t have to do that.” Sirius’ frown eased slightly, “Surely you want to be with Evans rather than up here.”

“I can bother Evans any time.” James shrugged. “When my brother is sad, that’s my first priority.”

Sirius turned his head away but James could see how hard his teeth were cutting into his lower lip to stop it trembling and the breath he was holding so it wouldn’t come out as a sob. He let Sirius have a moment and grabbed the cards from his trunk. When he turned back to Sirius, he was alarmed to see him curled in on himself, body heaving with silent sobs. He pulled Sirius to his feet and wrapped his arms around him, bearing his full weight as he felt Sirius’ knees give way.

He knew that Sirius had been haunted by his actions from last term. Remus had spent a week and a few odd days with them over the summer and they’d reached a place where he’d forgiven Sirius, but things were nowhere near being back to how they had been. James had his doubts as to whether they ever would be. He still flinched away when Sirius touched him, and James could tell that Sirius was doing his best to retrain his muscle memory to not reach for Remus the way he always had. It was hard to watch.

“Deep breaths, Pads,” James said quietly. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Sirius tried this for a while, often interrupted by his chest lurching or fresh tears. He let James sit them down on the edge of his bed and leant his head against James’ damp shoulder as he tried desperately to calm down.

“I fucked ev-everything up.” Sirius hiccupped, “I- I don’t blame him at all for keeping me at arm’s length. I just hate it, and there’s no- no-one else to blame but myself and every time I thi- think I’m doing better it sneaks u- up on me and I end up like this.”

“I wish there was something I could say that would help,” James said honestly.

“I know.” Sirius started shaking again. “Thanks. I think I just want to sleep.”

“I’m taking the map with me,” James said, laughing softly. “Have a vial of Dreamless Sleep.”

“Yeah, alright.” Sirius lifted his head from James’ shoulder. “Thanks, Prongs.”

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus appeared in the common room about an hour later and James pulled him to one side immediately. “Have you found the Room of Requirement?”

Remus sighed, “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” James looked so disappointed in him, it was like seeing his own face reflected back at him.

“I’ve been using it for tutoring,” Remus mumbled. “Didn’t want to have to share it with Sirius taking his flavour of the week there.”

“Tutoring?” James looked like his head was going to explode, “Tutoring, Remus?”

“Yeah, Gid’s wanted to work on his patronus charm and the room just… anticipates what you need. It’s incredible magic.” Remus smiled, “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“I need a lie down.” James dragged his hand down his face. “Tutoring?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Remus frowned. “You think we were sneaking off to hook up? There’s a very pretty Ravenclaw who’d have something to say about that.” His eyes narrowed, “How did you know I found it anyway?”

“The map.” James shrugged.

“Do you just sit and stalk us on the map when we’re gone? Jesus, Prongs.”

“Yep. That’s what I do. I’m a pervert, sorry.” He grinned at Remus until Remus’ frown broke. “Tutoring!” He laughed.

“If I end up having to schedule my tutoring around Sirius’ hookups, I’m going to be furious.” He chuckled.

James didn’t have the heart to tell him that eventually he probably would have to do that, but not in the way he anticipated.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Jotaro Kujo — Never Had

you were the best i never had, the only chance i wish i had to take

an: ugh the oscar isaac brainrot is brainrotting

God, how long has it been since he last saw you?

It must've been decades now.

So many questions ran in his mind, a cascade of curiosity and longing. How have you been? Have you been well? Were you married? Kids? Have the years been kind to you? Has life granted you the serenity you deserve?

But when you approached him with that sweet smile of yours, the sparkle in your eyes mirroring the laughter of youth long past, a small shy smile as if you thought he doesn't remember you...

What a funny thought. As if he'd ever forget you.

As if he could ever erase the indelible mark you left upon his mind, his heart...

50 days.

He spent less than fifty days with you, yet that was all it took for his heart to become a canvas painted with the indelible strokes of your presence, of your memory.

"I'm glad to finally see you awake," You spoke, giving him a small relieved smile.

All it took was the sound of your voice, the sight of your smile, and suddenly, he was seventeen again.

The heat of the desert, the ache in his muscles, Polnareff's jests, Kakyoin's antics, Avdol's nagging, Joseph's pranks—each moment etched in his mind like a cherished painting.

The dingy hotel room, sitting next to Kakyoin as he admitted his feelings to the teen who highly encouraged him.

But he was a kid back then. A kid burdened by the weight of his thoughts and unable to fathom the complexities of love.

It just wasn't the right time.

Suddenly, he's in the airport in Cairo, watching you walk away, to return to your home country. His heart heavy with unspoken words and unexpressed emotions, he watched you vanish into the crowd, carrying his unspoken feelings with you, forever sealed within the chambers of his heart.

A love that never found its voice.

And now, God... he would've loved to stay. Loved to catch up, especially in light of the absence of a ring adorning your finger.

But he had much more important matters.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," Was his response, laden with a sense of urgency, and he watched the way your brows furrow even more in concern.

"What's the rush?" You ask, laced with genuine worry and a subtle plea for him to stay. He doesn't blame you, he'd been out of it for a while.

"I need to—" A momentary pause hung in the air,  his gaze locking with yours, a flicker of conflict dancing in his ocean-blue eyes; he felt like he was betraying you as he spoke, "I need to get to my daughter."

It's not the right time.

That thought flashed in his mind again, swiftly followed by another.

Will it ever be the right time?

He caught the subtle widening of your eyes, a flicker of surprise on your gaze at his words. Your lips hesitated, parting, on the verge of responding, only to retreat into a thoughtful silence moments later. The weight of your unspoken thoughts hung in the air, a pregnant pause that lingered for a beat before you finally broke the silence with your response.

"Is she in trouble?" Your voice carried a note of concern, your brows knitting together in a display of genuine worry. He always thought you were far too nice for your own good—too caring, too helpful, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

But then again, he couldn't find it in himself to be mad—can't fault you for it, as it was that quality of yours that led you to him, that led him to love you.

"No," He replied instinctively, the words slipping out before he could reel them back in, knowing that you would undoubtedly offer to lend a hand if he were to tell you the truth, and he can't.

He couldn't risk putting you in harm's way again. Couldn't bear the thought of dragging you into danger once more because of his cursed bloodline.

"Jotaro-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head before you can finish your sentence.

"No." He spoke once more, his voice firm this time. Shaking his head still. "I can handle it."

Another pregnant pause stretched out between the two of you, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Your eyes brimmed with concern and worry, while he was certain that his own gaze betrayed a whirlwind of unspoken affection resurfacing to the forefront of his mind as he found himself reunited with you.

"I.. need to go." Jotaro decided to break the silence, and if you hadn't known him for so long, you would've missed the way his voice sounded breathy. Yet, you choose not to mention it.

"...Alright," You sigh defeatedly, "Don't let me keep you."

You try your best to give him a small smile, one of reassurance. In response, he simply nodded, a familiar gesture reminiscent of your teenage years when he would try to look cool in front of you—not that he'll ever tell you that.

"I'll come back." Jotaro found his lips moving when it should be his feet starting to walk away from here. "I'll come back here, for you."

Jotaro found himself teetering on the edge of a decision, a fleeting impulse urging him to lean in, to reach out and cup your face in his hand, to bridge the distance between you and savor the warmth of your lips against his own, yet, he held himself back.

It's not the right time.

"Okay.. I'll wait for you."

But maybe, just maybe... after he finally gets rid of the lingering thorn of his cursed bloodline, after he ensures the safety of his daughter, after he finishes the fight with this priest...

Maybe it'll finally be the right time.

[ithseem]

Scars

Summary: Alan's been dealing with intrusive thoughts and is spiralling deep into self-loathing. Maybe you can help to ease that?

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Rating: teen and up

Content warnings: brief depictions of murder, blood, and vomit, self-loathing, intrusive thoughts, low self esteem, depictions of physical and emotional scars, angst

crossposted to ao3

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Alan hadn't exactly been dealt the best hand in life. Growing up, he got into more than his share of scrapes, earning scars from some of them. He supposed this was to be expected, given his circumstances, so he never really paid them any mind. That is, until the night he committed the greatest atrocity—he had taken a life. With his bare hands, no less. Though he was unscathed, he could never see his scars in the same indifferent light again. Now all he could do was swallow his horror and disgust and carry on with his day. Sometimes literally, as bile would often threaten to climb up his throat.

Being the captain of Vagastrom did have some of its perks, though. None of his dorm mates really gave much thought to his scars. Although, some of them were fascinated by them, much to his dismay. Was this really all they saw? Just battle scars? Trophies of a life hard-lived? The thought churned his stomach, bile rising as he clenched his fists, the jagged lines on his knuckles mocking him. They didn’t understand—how could they? These weren’t badges of honor. They were brands, seared into his skin by the worst thing he’d ever done.

Part of him wanted them to at least see what it was like. To have their hands sullied by blood and dirt. To see the look of utter disbelief and betrayal upon their victim’s face. To have that feel as if that blood permanently caked onto their hands. To have those images burned into their retinas. But he still knew that no matter how much anger simmered inside him—at his dorm mates for their casual fascination or, more often, at himself—he couldn’t wish the same fate upon them. The thought of any of them committing an act as vile as murder made his chest tighten. He couldn’t bear the idea of them waking up to bloodied hands, unable to scrub the memory clean, condemned to carry the unbearable weight of their own guilt if they survived jail time. The scars might heal, but the rot inside never did. And the intrusive thoughts of wanting them to experience that just cemented that for him SO firmly. 

And then you came into the picture. Little did Alan expect that things would take a massive turn after meeting you. He would sometimes catch you watching him absently stare at his hands. At first you would look away, and quite frankly, he wished it would stay that way. You having that level of fear of him would make things a lot easier for him, but his own desire to have you around told him otherwise. Why did you have to get so comfortable around him? Why did he let himself get so… attached to you? And why do you look at his hands with concern? He’s the last person who needs, or rather, deserves any semblance of concern, let alone from you. Your neck is constantly on the line even without the curse, so why spend any thought on him?

“...Lan.”

“Alan?”

“Earth to Alan?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. That’s right… You were supposed to be reviewing documents with him. He looked at your pile of unfinished documents and noticed the difference between yours and his own. How long was he spacing out?

“Is... Is everything okay?” You asked. There you go again, showing him undeserved worry.

“Yeah…” he replied. “Just a little spaced out.”

You stared at him uncomprehendingly before ultimately deciding to take a small break. It’s not like staring at his hands while a stack of documents would accomplish anything, so he agreed. But what you said next really took him aback.

“Can I see your hands please?”

“Um… Okay?”

He held out his hands toward you, although not without hesitation. His fingers suddenly felt a lot heavier than normal. Immediately your fingers traced over the lines over his scars and his breath hitched. In any normal circumstance, he’d melt into your soft, warm hands without any hesitation. They were a balm to his larger, more calloused ones, but right now all he wanted to do was pull away from you. You were the last person who deserves to have their own hands sullied by his. As if the blood from his own hands would stain your own. Of course, this was cruel for him as well, since your kindness and gentle hands were a reminder of everything he craved. But he didn’t deserve this from you. And you didn’t deserve the sins seeping from his hands onto your own. As if your own curse wasn’t enough. Why do you have to dirty your own hands willingly? His thoughts drifted to the times he absent-mindedly patted your head, and he sensed the bile burning in his chest again.

You must have sensed Alan was starting to pull away, so you tighten your grip slightly.

“Please give me a moment,” you said, the lines of concern becoming more pronounced. Alan didn’t like where this was going. At least, that’s what he told himself.

You reached for a pen and started to scribble something on his hands where his scars were. “What are you doing?” he muttered, his brow furrowing slightly.

 He watched as the pen rather clumsily glided across his hands. But the strokes still had purpose behind them, and even he could tell that much. He was too entranced to say anything as he watched the small, intricate shapes materialize. You soon stopped once you covered all the scars you could see on his hands. His hands and his chest suddenly felt lighter, much to his own shock.

“Why did you do that…?” Alan muttered.

“I don’t know what you’ve been through exactly,” You replied. “But I can’t just sit idly by while you’re suffering!”

“You-”

“You may see yourself as a monster, but I know that’s not true.” It didn’t look like you were going to back down. He let you carry on knowing you had a lot more to say. A lot more lies. But he couldn’t help but feel comforted.

“Even if the rumours are true, that you killed someone, it’s clear that you regret doing it. So much so that it’s going to consume you. I don’t know the full backstory behind these scars, but I don’t want you to look at them with so much disgust.”

It looks like you were holding back tears at this point. But still you kept going.

“These are the same hands that saved me and Sho from Takeru. I like how they feel when you pat my head. They helped me to stay grounded while I was spiralling in my own thoughts. So please…”

The words seem to have gotten stuck in your throat. 

“You shouldn’t feel sad for me,” Alan finally said, unable to look you in the eye. “I don’t deserve it.”

But you were more stubborn than he expected. You shook your head, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. “You don’t get to decide that, Alan,” you said. Your voice was trembling, but it was steady enough to carry the weight of your words. “You think you’re beyond saving, that you don’t deserve kindness, but that’s not your choice to make. You mean something to me, to Sho, to everyone who’s still here because of you.”

Alan’s throat tightened as he looked away, his jaw clenching. He wanted to argue, to throw your words back at you, but he couldn’t. The conviction in your voice, the way you stood your ground even as your tears began to fall—it chipped away at his defenses.

“Stop it,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “Stop making me out to be someone I’m not. I don’t want you to…” He trailed off, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I don’t want you to look at me like that. Like… Like I’m worth something.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand, tentative yet firm.”'But you are worth something. You just can’t see it right now. I know you’ve made mistakes—ones I can’t begin to imagine—but you’re still here, trying. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

He flinched at your touch but didn’t pull away this time. His heart ached, torn between the comfort of your words and the crushing weight of his guilt. “You don’t know what I’ve done,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I don’t need to know everything,” you replied, your hand wrapping gently around his own. “I just need to know who you are now. And right now, you’re someone who’s hurting, someone who’s trying to carry the weight of the world alone. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing. The warmth of your hand seeped into his, a reminder of something he thought he’d lost long ago. He hated himself for craving it, for letting your words sink in even just a little.

“I…” His voice faltered. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to accept the compassion you were offering. But for the first time in a long time, he felt something shift—something that wasn’t just the endless cycle of anger and self-loathing.

“You’re not alone, Alan,” you said softly, your tears finally spilling over. “And no matter how much you push me away, I’m not going to leave you behind.”

He closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. Maybe he didn’t deserve this. But for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight it anymore. Right now he let himself succumb to the warmth of your embrace. That's all he needed at the moment.

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A/N: Wow. That was a doozy to write. Hope you enjoyed

[starrbright]

Last Degree Of Nature | Nanami K.

Stay longer in me. Take root. Vera Pavlova, A Weight on My Back (tr. Steven Seymour)

January 5, 2024—April 5

Last continuation for Prof. Nanami: X | X | X | X |

3k words. Sickening fluff, honestly. No smut, really sorry for that. 🙇🏽‍♀️🫶🏼🫂

image used: X | a quote i used is from the 2014 film 'about time'

I had a bad case of baby fever after december 14, so......yeah. And I really was going through it and I thought of this.

Still going through it.

A few months has passed. Everything continues to go well with Nanami. Too well. Is it stupid? Honestly, you could swear it is. You sigh under your breath, tutting your head sharply to wipe away the thoughts but it comes back, the voice of your professor speaking up almost unheard, what she discusses just passes by through your ears.

Your fingers gripped around your pen tightly and loose and tighten again and again in the moment of being filled with worrying bits, at least is is for you. It's difficult not to fall on your head on the table and try to bear away what's been stirring you for a bit of awhile now.

How could you even begin to explain what you're going through. Maybe it's normal. Maybe it's too early.

And it is normal. But it is too early.

Yet, God....like again, how could you not be in the state you're in--when the two of you have been nothing but lovesick fools. When he's been someone so, a man you never dared to wish for.

You've lost count how many times you drifted far off from replaying memories in a loop.

The first time you stepped into his home, it was one what would expect for a man like him. A home out of a novel. Grand but mirrored familiarity. You were glad for him to have seem that he knew of the warm little things that makes life big before he met you.

That's what it seemed. If one would only look once and flat, they'll only see how he presents himself; gray. And a big part of him is, his life and what makes him he.

Figurines of what a home is to fill the spaces.

And then along came you to be the muse of his colorful but now he realizes--empty canvases.

There never seemed to be a missing piece even when he seeked out to satisfy his flesh. Even when you arrived in his life only for both of your indulgence. There never was.

Until his heart wanted itself to be given to you. Until he offered and you accepted it. He found there were endless crevices that could be filled more beautifully.

To see you free roaming in his home. To have you in his arms, laying back against his chest as you read a book, with him savoring the rest he can have with you, free from the confines of his work for a while.

The sun beaming through the windows while the wind flows against the curtains. The shine of the sun on your brown skin, the specks of dust he sees from the light, every little marks and dots of hairs on your arm. With him holding you as he beholds all those; he's frozen in time. And what he'd give to capture every moment. To let it flow endlessly.

It doesn't need to be said, it's in all of it already anyways--at least not yet. One would say there's the kind of rush in the beauty of just letting it be.

Though how long? How long until it can be sees as not too early?

How much more walking through it to be enough?

A few times you two have been in the café you're now in to study, to wash yourself away from the distractions. Him, who else.

Though it's been less than ten minutes of being in the place, after being in the queue and now that it was your turn to order. The cashier already familiared of you, has a little smile, almost barely showing but it's a knowing one--and when you felt a presence behind you, she laughs.

Widened eyes as you recognized the scent of a perfume, the way those arms encircled around you, the squeeze of fingers to the side of your stomach. His voice. " Angel. " He greets sweetly with a kiss on your cheek.

You couldn't find your words, too abashed at his sudden presence, let alone in public as you both stand in the line, let alone the fine man holding a boquet in his other hand as he holds his woman. "Let's go." He says before you could even protest, he's already given an ample of money for someone who didn't buy anything, he's already got your things from the table you're supposed to be--he's already had you sitting in his car.

"I'm supposed to be studying." You spoke at last.

"I know." he only chuckles. "But I missed you." He simply adds as he leans close you, a hand delicately firm on your cheek to kiss your lips. The thick presence of his perfume dizzying against the vibrant scent of the flowers--to the way he drowns you with kisses.

How unfair.

And how cliche it is. You hadn't thought Nanami would have ever pulled the kind of act, In the library, among the aisles of bookshelves, you're pinned back against a shelf as he kisses you. But then again he has fucked you more than enough times in the campus.

You couldn't say it wasn't adorable that he asked for this. His office was a building away from where you're both in as he's to lecture in a few minutes and you to attend your own classes, so that is where you ended up; making do in the library for a mere time of kissing.

"This is risky." You uttered in haste the second you both stepped in the quiet facility, to which he only hushed with another one of his, 'I know'

Next thing you know, he's hovering tall in front of you, one of his arm laying against the shelf, the other on the side of your face. "Hi." He breathes. There's no smile on him. How is it possible his eyes says otherwise.

"Hi." Nothing from your voice but just a gentle mouth of the word, a mere smile painting to be wide.

Then it slowly fell as his thumb grazes on your lips. "Let me kiss you." he still utters those kind of words. Never fails to take your breath each time.

Resolve melting away every time.

The last one recently, one which is all too vivid in your head--was the last straw to have enable all the want for more.

It was the morning of Sunday when Nanami called. yourself fresh from breakfast and was just about to wash the dishes. He tells it was Gojo who planted the idea in his mind just last night from their usual night out to drink, and he himself wasn't opposed to said idea--he liked it, really. Despite he wouldn't credit Gojo too much for it, of course. A dinner later in his home, that is. With the two men and their children.

How could you say no?

You were too happy to prepare and cook all those dishes with him in his kitchen before the night arrives. Amidst a few conversation about Gojo and Geto, their children as well, the conversation went to a boy named Yuuji.

The said boy whom Nanami has invited for later. Telling of the little story as you continue all the work in the kitchen,

Evident that the man is very fond of the boy. Spoke of how Yuuji's late grandfather was the owner of the flower shop he sometimes go to before you both happened, the said boy taking over after while still studying along in the same school and class with Megumi. Spoke of how a good kid he is. Spoke of how the boy told him that his grandfather would have liked to meet the woman Nanami has found, the old man would've been over the moon to know the flowers Nanami usually buy for his house now would be for a lover. Spoke of how Yuuji was always thrilled when he walks in the shop, having known it'll be for you. Which all led to him insisting the kid to go for the dinner, telling how he literally brightened up when he heard it.

You couldn't wait for the night to arrive.

But nothing could have prepared you for it.

As some have said, 'no one can prepare you for the love people you love can feel for them.'

All so suddenly your nerves flutter rapidly when footsteps and voices make itself known further. "That would be them." Nanami says with a little laugh following as he wipes his hands with a kitchen towel before heading to them.

Though you only remain standing behind the island, your hands fresh off the powdered sugar from sprinkling them on the now done strawberry cake you made; a dessert for the kids, but of course much more for Nanami and Gojo that your man has told you who has a bigger sweet tooth than anyone else.

Your wandering mind filled with nervousness in those short seconds was abruptly interrupted with adorable loud voices of little girls as they run in the kitchen and around to the dining room. The three professors following after and behind them is who you figured to be Megumi and Yuuji. The pink haired boy must be certainly Yuuji, by his sunshine air and the beautifully arranged flowers he holds, eyes wide with a big smile. Megumi besides him with the jet black hair and cool demeanor he has. The little girls Nanami has told earlier, Nanako and Mimiko who were now running back to the kitchen, towards where you are, little hands reaching up on the edge of the counter and tiptoeing. Loudly delighted with the cake they see.

"They really rubbed off from Satoru." Geto huffs, a mere annoyance in his voice but the fondness in his calm eyes tells so much.

"They're children." Nanami reasons expectedly, the calmest smile on his face, eyes flickering to you. Your heart just keeps on fluttering.

"And I'm your soon to be husband." None other than Gojo speaks as ever proud he is, to which only Geto, Nanami and Megumi rolled their eyes to. You, Yuuji, Nanako and Mimiko however--and despite the little girl's already knows, they have the same look of awe you and Yuuji have. "That's....that's lovely." You speak up softly, wiping your hands clean.

"Congrats." Yuuji barely stopped himself from seemingly shouting.

Then Geto laughs lightly, "Thank you." Walking up to the counter with the bag he holds, delightfully reeking of a savory scent, Gojo as well with two bottles of expensive looking alcohol. "I asked him just last night--" he begins with a wide grin but was cut off by his fiance. "Barely. He was too drunk when he did." Geto scoffs as he takes out a food container from the paper bag. "I had to get hammered, I was too scared!" Gojo protests as he pop opens the one bottle of alcohol and looked for glasses.

"He couldn't have done it normally despite feeling so." Nanami chimes in simply as he starts to set up the dishes on the table, making Gojo just following him across the dining room with the glasses now on his hands, his own already filled as he goes with his mouth.

Leaving you with Geto as the two boys goes there as well, lightly playing along with the little girls as they converse.

"It's nice to see you again." Geto says while now helping you prepare all the little things for dinner to begin and go well. "In this kind of setting, I mean." he adds, a light chuckle he makes. Having seen you a few times in the campus, of course, with Nanami secretely or just around. "And I'm glad, by the way."

You nod, abashment about your relationship with their friend almost not there anymore. "The same to you. And I'm glad as well." Happily, you smile.

At last dinner began. If simply meeting them all has had your heart growing so much, you couldn't be more wrong. You were worriedly too happy to be wrong.

That's where you begin to get.....scared.

And how you now find yourself after days and days of contemplating it--standing in front of the door of Geto's office.

Doubts of confronting it plainly gone, you were just aching to let it all out, but not yet to the man himself, so instead it's Geto. You think it's only fitting for you to go to him.

Sighing almost tiredly, you then knock on the door, when you walk in and he's met by you. He just lightly smiles and nodded for you to go in. You sit on the chair across from him where he's still on his laptop, as your eyes are nowhere on particular, gathering the bare strength to speak it out at last--he just waits for you speak, having already as expectedly guess what the subject will be or rather who about.

You breathe deeply as your head turns away before it goes back to him.

"I think I want to marry Kento."

Geto's focus stops, fingers typing away on a sudden halt, gaze now to you and eyebrows raised, "Ah." His very mere shock fades slowly into a small smile.

"Yeah," you let out barely, lolling your head to the side. Your ears at last hearing those words, it suddenly feels ridiculous. But the arrow has already been shot in you. Too much and maddening it is, still you don't want it to go away.

You find yourself then to be unwavering. The resolve finding its permanent stay.

A shaking breath flows out of your mouth, a trembling hand ghosts on your forehead as you look down. "I want to marry him." Never mind your unsteady voice, you want to say it endlessly.

Nostalgia waves pass by Geto with what reveals. Several months ago, Nanami spoke you're the one. His everything. And there you are now with an admission any longing being would dream to hear for their own. He looks at his engagement ring. A few weeks earlier, his lover was clinging to him as he tear up, drunk, asking to marry him, rambling how he wants eternity with him, promising he'll be the bestest father for their children.

He didn't ever think their lives would be this happy, he only hoped.

Geto is wordless to say the least.

His eyes back on you, it's the mellowest you've ever seen on him, mouth opening slowly, it's what he thinks to say then. "Satoru wouldn't be too happy with a double wedding. You know how extra he is--"

A breathless laugh you make in a light disbelief, "I'm serious." You say in exasperation, tears starting to fill your eyes.

Geto just smiles gently, not saying aything. What more could be said when you're just too happy for a friend, to contentedly know that until an end, they won't be alone.

"What are you waiting for?"

Going on with your day after was still as distracting, it wasn't heavy anymore though. You don't remember when was the last time you were excited to see him again without any hesitations.

When you do at the end of the day, in his house, finding rest in each other's warmth, your heart remains to be thrumming of that same thrilling joy when time has allowed you both to be with each other again, that same rhythm of feeling when you first began to have a crush on him.

And in the quietness, you deem it's time to make it known to him.

As he keeps himself cozy with his face buried on your neck, your soft body laying against his chest and in between his legs--gently, you rose from his hold and awaking him in the process. You sit yourself back on the couch as he looks at you curiously, while ever sweetly gentle, your hands still twined as he makes so. So much for how much more.

After all the time of thinking about it, you didn't see the need nor want to beat around.

" I want to marry you. "

How does one even take that in?

You were sure you've never seen your lover lose the composure on his face like that. It's nothing but pleasant.

"Marry me." The bliss in saying it, truly.

And hearing it from you, seeing your smile you evidently keep from widening, the stars in your eyes. You've taken him from his paradise to a place far greater than he would ever thought of.

You've truly taken him aback this time. He hadn't seen you were visioning the same piece as him. It seemed both of you were going through the same dilemma after all. Drowned too deep to have seen it.

You hadn't seen his eyes looking at your ring finger when his hand is entangled to yours, thikning of all the kinds of rings you'd love. How could you have possibly know he's been wishing for you to never leave his house when the night falls, for him to wake each morning with you in his arms, to get up earlier than you and make you breakfast, have and enjoy meals together without looking at the time.

You didn't see what he was painting with his eyes upon dinner that one night. How you light yourself a flame and the kids a magnet to you.

Suddenly when he holds you from behind, his hand yearned to feel a life within you. Voices of little ones echoing pleasantly in his mind. Angels running around his home.

Despite unspoken, unknown; you've been meeting halfway.

Nanami let his lips break into an opened smile, a little laugh breathing out as he tightens his twined hand on yours. "You read my mind."

Your cheeks could already hurt from smiling so much, but couldn't find any words after, you only laid your hand on both of yours, pressing your lips on his knuckles and feel your eyes ache from the tears collecting. Your lover's smile turned gentle as he sees you. " Marry me. " He murmurs. Simply indulging himself in saying it. "I'll marry you. And you of me." He says, returning your kisses on both of your hands.

You feel what he feels when he said them, and he feels what you felt when you answered yes.

Laughter flows in the halls of his home when he takes you in his whole hold once again.

"Satoru wouldn't want a double wedding--"

"I would not dream  of being in the same altar at the same time with that man."

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Finally done with this 😭😭😭🗣️��🏽 i am so tired. just went to our dance practice for a subject and finished this after and still have to type it all after just writing it on paper as usual😀🫠 but here we are, and back home and still am miserable, ive been so busy with college, and it's midnight here, i have a group reporting tomorrow and i barely studied about it🫶🏼🫂 anyways, i thought of writing my little thoughts about this story, im sorry if it's silly or shit😭

i had nanami in his thirties, while our reader is twenty-five. i hadn't thought of what she's taking, really. i honestly forgot what nanami's expertise is 🤸🏾‍♀️ geto teaches art and field study 1, while gojo is in physics and physical education. they had nanako and mimiko just after they were born, heard from someone they know that the little girls' mother couldn't raise them, so they referred themselves willingly. megumi in an orphanage after the girls have grown. i really wish i involved shoko and haibara😔😔😔😔💔😔💔😔💔😔💔😔 let's just think of them being there. especially in their weddings😁 also while at campus earlier, i randomly chose songs in my playlists to queue and one of them is 'that part' by lauren spencer smith and i realized how this work is fitting for that song 😭💔😭😭😭💔😔😭💔

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

I have decided to spore Leatherhead from my Mama Bear au, since he is also in the Misa rp discord server, this sporing features @catarina-hamato’s characters!

TW FOR MANY THINGS, PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS

Luke packed away another item in the special case he made for all the gifts he planned on returning home with.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected to be a part of something like this, but it was sudden anyways. They weren’t exactly consulted on it.

Camp was never really his thing as a kid, he liked staying home with Julia and his brothers more during summer. They’d bake together, have special permission to stay up a whole half hour later, and he’d even get brought to the pool more.

This was a bit different, though. He had a large part of his family here, and even some people from the wish dimension like Misa, the HOB group, and TJ’s family.

It was better than other camps in that way, but he’s still missing another huge part of the people he cares about.

The worst thing is, the headphones Tello gave him are being blocked by the crystals of the cave. He can’t talk to him or let him know they’re all okay.

Don’t ask him how headphones that can work through dimensions are taken out by cave crystals, he doesn’t know.

He of course still kept them on as much as he could, just in case contact managed to break through or he just needed them to calm down.

It helped with the homesickness, slightly. Picking out crafts that reminded him of the rest of his family did too. He’d be able to give them out and he’s sure Tello would have a blast analyzing their signatures.

There were only a few people in the shared cabin at the moment. Luke was the only one from the group, he needed some space and quiet.

Just as he was closing the case, the whole cabin started shaking violently. He sat near the frame of his bunk bed and wondered if there was earthquake happening here somehow.

The lights went out before the shaking eventually stopped. From how dark it got afterwards, he could assume all the other electricity went out too.

He stood up quickly, needing to make sure that everyone else was okay. Pressing a button on his headphones, the screens in front of him help light up the area. Once he did a sweep through the cabin for anyone injured, he rushed out of it.

His eyes land on the giant crystal that popped up right next to the cabin. An alert is suddenly in his ears and flashing across the screen, something is behind him.

Before he can even turn, vines wrap around all his appendages and over his snout. He’s dragged away somewhere with even less light, it’s dark and isolated.

The vines prevent him from clawing and biting. He’s almost muzzled. Still, he thrashes around as much as he can, especially as another vine removes his headphones. He can only catch a glimpse of something else on screen before they’re dragged away out of sight.

A mushroom is suddenly shoved in his face. It glows and stares at him with one extremely creepy eye before particles from it are launched at him and spread in the air.

He coughs and wheezes as the spores enters his lungs. Memories of everything the other multidimensional universe had done to him and the people he cares about flash across his mind. He shuts his eyes tightly, hoping with everything he has that it isn’t going to be as bad as it was.

“Crocababy? What’s wrong?”

He pauses at the familiar voice.

The headphones are gone, he shouldn’t be able to hear him.

“Open your eyes, filius. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He feels weight around his shoulders.

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

Donnie’s lab? At home? How?

“….Dad? How….how did I get here?”

“The headphones sent off a distress signal. I was able to get you away from those vines and brought you home.”

He…he did see something on the screen, but could this be true? He has to be seeing things, right? He’s being tricked.

“I was so worried about you….I couldn’t take it if anything happened to you…”

Luke returns the hug, squeezing his dad comfortingly.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry I scared you-“ His eyes widen when looks down and sees his claws absolutely drenched in blood.

“…..That’s why I couldn’t stop you. It would have hurt you.”

Luke stumbles back, screaming in horror at what he might have done. He trips over something almost immediately and lands on his back, a wet, stickiness with a metallic smell surrounding him. It makes him sick to his stomach. Even without looking, he knows what it is.

The sight above him isn’t fully better. There’s Tello above him, arm and eyes kraanged out. He’s covered in blood too.

There’s.

So.

Much.

Blood.

Too much for just a few people.

He gets lifted up and turned around by the Kraang arm to see the full massacre.

Luke’s heart nearly wants to stop at what he’s witnessing.

The Leos have wounds in them like claws went through their plastrons. Leon had more of them, and they were deeper than Leos.

Leon’s hands are still placed on some of Leo’s wounds, half healed.

Leo is still clinging to Leon. His eyes are wide and empty. One of his arms is missing.

Red is face down, curled over Raph’s body. His shell is in pieces. There’s blood pooled under his head where a dent is.

His mother, his poor, sweet mother, is off to the side and propped up against a wall. Most likely having been forced back and made unable to do anything.

Her arms are horribly broken.

The universe is cradling Usagi and Angelo in its little arms. It would probably be holding more of them if it could.

Angelo’s neck is broken.

Mikey’s neck is too.

They both had looks of betrayal left on them. Tear stained faces.

Usagi is littered in claw marks and bites. There’s a ripped up blue mask by his hand. Claw marks are nearby on the floor, he was dragged away from-

Dee.

He’s….

It’s so awful his brain is trying to distort the very image of him, but something is forcing him to focus.

There’s deep wounds clawed down the entirety of his shell.

The universe turns to him, eyes open and fiery.

“You were a mistake. You should have died with your clutch. You never deserved any of them.”

Luke can feel his consciousness slipping into that feral state he usually goes into when something of this level happens.

With every body, he has just been screaming and screaming and screaming as tears poured down his face.

It’s all he could do with how his dad was holding him.

“Crocababy, you haven’t seen the worst of it yet. He’d be so sad you were forgetting about him.” Tello says with a wide smile.

Who is he…?

NO!

NO!!

Tello turns him to see the last body.

Scotty’s body is horribly mangled like he’s a chew toy that got picked up and whipped around.

Luke screams more, his throat raw.

It’s so much worse when his body starts twitching.

He’s still alive.

“SCOTTY!! Dad! Please! Let me heal him! Let me help! Please! Please!!”

“L…u….lu…” Scotty chokes out, blood splattering on the floor more.

“Son, there’s no point in that. He’s still going to hate you for what you’ve done.” Tello rubs Luke’s cheek, causing him to flinch and try to pull away again.

“I don’t care! He can hate me as much as he wants if he’s alive! H-He needs to be alive!” Luke begs.

“And suffer like you did? Being the last one of his family? That’s so cruel, mea parva tragoedia.”

Scotty’s twitching suddenly stops as his head is smashed into the ground. Luke screams yet again, seeing SC-1 standing over him.

“If I knew it was this easy to be rid of so many issues at once, I would have made this happen myself. Your father is a suitable vessel now. Watching his son tear apart his family without being to stop him, and not having him to calm him down, that allowed a little something to win over his consciousness.”

Luke can barely get air in. His heart feels like it’s about to explode. His mind is swimming. He’s hanging on with just a frayed little string.

“Since your precious little universe is dying, you’ll have to join a new one. You and your father will have fun there, I’m sure.” SC-1 laughs.

“DAD! DAD PLEASE-!” Luke inhales sharply when he feels something ripped from him.

He looks down and sees his soul out in front of him.

“You’ll be a much better son once we’re done. Maybe now I can really have Spike back.” Tello coos.

The string snaps.

Luke roars the loudest he possibly can, claws scrambling against the kraanged arm around him. His pupils slit.

He needs this to stop.

Please.

Any way to stop it.

“Anything? You would do anything?” A voice worms its way into his head.

Yes.

Anything.

Just make it stop.

No more.

“Then join me. Serve me. All of it will stop.”

He knows, some part of him knows, that this will doom him.

He doesn’t have it in him to care

Okay.

Anything to make it stop.

Luke’s body is dropped from the vines. His eyes fill completely with a bright blue glow. He slowly stands, stumbling as he moves. The pain in his throat is numbed, as is everything else.

He walks away, not hearing his headphones as voices yell out from them.

“LEATHS! LEATHS! SON! RESPOND! PLEASE!”

[thegoldenavenger]

I wish you would write time travel! Do you prefer time loop? to the future? to the past? reverse transmigration? Any flavor pairing in svsss~

Ahha you're lucky you qualified with svsss bc I have written time travel for a different fandom :3c

i think possibly an interesting take on this would be bingge deciding the point of difference between his universe and the nice shizun universe is that liu qingge is still alive... so like hm. i'll try and keep this shortish.

luo binghe has always gotten exactly what he wanted. perhaps after a trial, a tribulation, pain or minor tragedy, but eventually he always came out on top. so didn't it follow that he would win in his search for that nicer shizun? what, after all, did that other pathetic version of himself have that he did not? did luo binghe, demon emperor of the three realms, not deserve that softer shen qinqiu?

after returning home, to a palace stirred by that inferior him, his harem in a titter, it took too long to find space to go over his memories and the filtered memories he lifted from shen qingqiu. where did the difference lie? was it something he had done, as a child, that softened shen qingqiu from a cold master into a kind man?

he goes through softened memories of warm breakfast, embarrassingly transparent sparring practice, a satisfyingly cruel goodbye into the abyss, and then finally: that attack on cang qiong mountain by sha hauling's forces. instead of backing down after the three matches, instead they are chased off.

even though he had only seen him from a distance, luo binghe cannot mistake him. indeed, he sees almost a reflection every time he looks at his wife, liu mingyan.

this then, must be the difference. liu qingge was not murdered in the caves, and instead lived. perhaps the tumultous rivalry between shen qingqiu and liu qingge allowed the man to excise his crueler tendencies away from his poor students. or shen qingqiu had intended to murder the man and failed, and thusly locked himself into a portrayal of kindness as to divert suspicion that grew into a reality. whatever the case, it seemed to luo binghe that liu qingge's survival was the pin on which shen qingqiu's destiny lay to unfold. just as the man's death was how luo binghe could pry shen qingqiu from his bamboo peak, the man's life seemed to be how luo binghe could set his hands on a kinder shen qingqiu. one he could call shizun without qualm.

then all there was to it was to uncover a way to go back. he did not necessarily seek out a way, as such things had a way of just happening to him, but he kept his long reach open and searching. similarly, he did not equivocate with himself over perhaps leaving his harem and life to go back in time. either he would be rebuilding his empire in the past, or he would manage to bring that shizun back with him. things always worked out for him, when he put his mind to it, so he didn't over worry.

when it happened, it happened almost without fanfare. luo binghe stepped through a portal and walked into the abrasive air of the demon realm, separate and unconquered.

Finding his bearings is easy, though the realms had been merged for decades, his sharp memory recalled exactly where he stood now. Just as easy is journeying the distance north to reclaim his vassal (it does not occur to him that Mobei-jun is decades younger now, that Mobei-jun does not remember his oaths and fealty. It's fine. Luo Binghe reminds him)

From there, it barely needs recounting how he finds himself deep in the Ling Xi caves, except to mention how briefly he indulged the desire to pause by the woodshed. Tempting as it is to set fire to Qing Jing again, he moves on, Xin Mo a heavy weight at his side.

He had never been in the Ling Xi caves, but navigating them is intuitive. The pure natural qi laps against him like the ocean tide. He follows it to a cavern perfect for cultivation. It's the wrong cavern, as sitting calmly, meditating, is Shen Qingqiu. Luo Binghe cannot tell if it is the softer Shizun or not.

It doesn't matter, yet. Luo Binghe turns and treks deeper into the cave system, confident. Soon enough, his ears pick up the sounds of breathing. He quickens his pace; he wants to find Liu Qingge before Shen Qingqiu. He doesn't have a plan yet for how he means to save the man; warning the Bai Zhan War God of his martial brother's duplicitous intent? Just picking him up and manhandling him out of danger as he would one of his wives?

As he draws closer in on his prey, the light breathing he hears turns labored. Perhaps Liu Qingge is on the edge of a breakthrough, perhaps he is working through a heart demon.

He doesnt know why he is not surprised when he enters the next cavern and sees the sculpted brows of Liu Qingge's face twitch into a furrow, when a bead of blood wells like tears in his closed eyes. That the Peerless War God of Bai Zhan is experiencing a qi deviation? Yes, that could be surprising. Luo Binghe briefly decides it must be the lingering influence of one of Shen Qingqiu's plots. What isn't surprising is feeling the white hot flare of Yang energy starting to consume Liu Qingge's spiritual pathways.

The cool Yin of Luo Binghe's demonic qi stirs.

It always comes back to this, he thinks, a distant mix of frustration and interest sparking low in his gut.

Standing at the shadowed alcove watching Liu Mingyan's beloved brother fall into qi deviation, he finds that not even traveling years into his past can allow reprieve from the cycle his life has fallen into. He supposes this is a fair enough trade for saving the man's life, and even a gift for the most aloof of his wives. It is almost funny that the Liu he'll have intimate knowledge of won't be the one he married.

"Quiet now," Luo Binghe calls when the qi deviation rolls over Liu Qingge, paling the man's face and making him snarl. "This Lord will help you."

At his voice, Liu Mingyan's brother opens his eyes, and they seem to flash red. With killing intent or the deviation, it doesn't matter to Luo Binghe. What matters much, much more is Liu Qingge's hand flexing, summoning the shining blade of Cheng Luan.

Luo Binghe feels a smile slip onto his lips. "Well, if you insist, this lord does not mind indulging first."

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Little less than super, soldier

Basically an oc x zemo fic but I'm going to write it in y/n style because that's what I'm comfortable with ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also I am still working on Avatar and Spiderman fics just taking a self indulgent break because the FOCUStm is on Zemo rn.

Your characters background is clear as the story progresses but if you'd prefer to know it going in this is a post on it! And this is a short fic of that info too ✌

This is a part one... I got so excited and wrote a few more ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary: Sam gets back up from an old friend, meanwhile y/n is struggling to deal with Zemo.

warnings: for now canon typical violence, tho later chapters will contain mild body horror. Warnings will specify.

Nicht - Don't

Tut mir leid - I'm sorry

Soldat - Soldier

(My german is very basic so feel free to correct me!)

next

Sam hadn't seen you in years, not since he watched you walk away from him, Bucky and Steve. He couldn't argue with their decision, it was for the best. You were a wreck and despite his best hopes he knew you were right. If anyone knew you were alive they'd use you again.

Still he wasn't too surprised when you turned up at his house. He'd only been back from dust a few days earlier but he'd heard from others that you'd been there. Stepping up to help when people around the globe needed you. He hadn't realized the broken person he'd met screaming in a cell had so much heart.

Still you were a ball of nerves, being overly polite and stumbling over your questions. It was a far cry from the swearing, snapping venom you'd spit when the Avengers had you and it put him a little on edge. You just wanted to know if he was okay, if they all were and that you'd be leaving again. He'd given your shoulder a squeeze, despite the flinch, and wished you the best. You'd settled quickly under his had and that was the first time he saw you really smile.

He found the number a few hours later. A tiny scrap you'd somehow tucked into his own jean pocket. A small note, "Just in case." He felt oddly proud of who you'd become and kept it into his wallet.

That day passed into fond memory but every so often a little note and number would turn up. A small reminder you were out there and willing to help again. A few times he thought to call but he didn't. No point worrying you or pulling you back for nothing.

Only this wasn't nothing now. He and Bucky were stumped and with the threat of super-soldiers and he knew you'd want to know. Though the idea of dragging you back it was horrible. He felt the weight of his decision bearing down on his shoulders. Sam slumped further into his chair as he eyed the message. Then with a last deep breath in, his thumb tapped the glass.

Sent. Delivered. Read. Ellipsis.

Then nothing. He waited, head in hands, regretting it immediately. It wasn't like you wouldn't be a huge help but dragging you back like this? It just didn't feel right. Even if you came what could you know anyway? Hydra weren't exactly open with you about things whilst in there clutches. Hell you might end up coming to draw gun fire and that thought twisted his gut. Sam watched the screen until his eyes burnt, then let his head hit the desk.

The buzz startled him some time later. He flung out his seat, scrambling to the message. Bucky, whatever he had been up to after visiting Zemo he was ready to meet. Sam's shoulders sagged as he read the text. He wasn't disappointed, not really. He knew he was asking too much by contacting you. The risk to your freedom was eminence. There was no telling who was still out there looking for you, other than SWORD anyway.

Still Sam couldn't help but feel down as he got his things ready. God only knows what Bucky had done and meeting him across town in some garage didn't bode well.

Maybe you'd settled down somewhere, maybe you were happy. He hoped so, that you'd chosen yourself. Sam fortified himself, squaring his shoulders as he headed to the door. No point stalling, he needed to find out what Bucky had been up to.

He swung the door out quickly but found his feet rooted in place. There you were, frozen with a hand in the air ready to knock. A mess of hair, in sweatpants and an old thread bare t-shirt, looking rather stunned. He stared a moment, watching your mouth bob open and shut, over night bag slipping down your shoulder.

"Y/n!" Sam couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. To his relief your posture relaxed and you returned his smile. "Come on, Bucky might have something, we'll meet him across town."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knew you should try to stop bouncing your leg but every time you lost focus it jumped to life. You didn't want Sam to see you worried like this. He'd always been so kind to you and you didn't doubt he'd let you leave if you asked. You couldn't however, no matter how much it felt like jaws were gonna snap down on you.

He'd been so nice in the car over, being careful to avoid touching you, asking after your life, avoiding making you speak any specifics. You appreciated that, although your run down, rented flat and part time jobs were hardly worth the effort. Hell you'd struggled enough making nice with coworkers, maybe a fresh start would be nice after this.

You'd wanted to call Sam. You'd wanted to check in with him and his family. For a time you even considered contacting Wanda but you never liked someone else in your mind with you. No you'd resigned yourself to the loneliness. Maybe you should get a pet.

"Is it Bucky?" Sam offered, eyes glancing to you before returning to scanning the room. "You know after Wakanda he's..."

"Yes I know." You interrupted, stilling yourself again. You'd actually gone to see him shortly after checking in with Sam. A guilty part of you had felt relieved when he'd disappeared. Though after the five year absence you felt you had to see him too.

He'd been starting therapy at the time, was working, he was doing well all things considered. Still you'd felt the need to check, to be sure the Soldat was gone. You'd left then satisfied that the man you'd known wasn't behind those kind sad eyes and that this Bucky that stood in his skin was not a threat. Still an incredibly able soldier just not of the winter variety. Anyway it wasn't him you were worried about.

When Sam had fully explained the situation you'd blanched. These flag-smashers had access to the serum. Not the same one you'd had pumped into you but a better one. One that left them with the strength and power of Captain America, not just side effects.

Still no matter what it cost, you couldn't leave knowing the serum was out there somewhere. So you'd focus on that, let it anger you, burn away any doubt and drive you forward.

You heard him before you saw him. Loud deliberate steps, Sam must have let him know you'd be there. Unless they were so as not to startle Sam. Regardless there was little more than a tight smiles shared before Bucky led you both further in to the garage.

You wouldn't say you were on comfortable terms with him yet. He was still guilt ridden about the Soldat's memories with you and you were still a little unnerved with a new man wearing the same face. It was nice to see him so happy though. Even in this circumstance his mood seemed far different than you'd ever seen him. Here's to therapy you supposed.

Bucky's plan seemed rather extreme. Break Zemo out and have him help. You had to admit it seemed rather extreme. The ex Colonel was part of an elite intelligence op and had a history of hating Avengers. Though he also hated super soldiers more so that might keep him on their side. Enemy of my enemy and all that.

Except you'd be among the enemy in that case. It wasn't outside the realms of possibility that Zemo didn't know about you. After all his search through the leaked files where rather singular in their aims. Your particular information had been lost or redacted so heavily that without specific knowledge on you it would be hard to link the two.

You continued to follow behind Sam, keeping your eyes on the shadows, watching your back. Some stress was elevated when Bucky flipped the lights on, continuing his back and forth with Sam after shooting a soft look at you. Nothing got past his notice.

If they kept this bickering up you'd be there all day. You slunk over to a car under the lights, perching on the open bonnet. You couldn't help the fondness in your smile as you watched their amusing relationship. Giggling to yourself as Sam rolled his eyes with his whole body, raising his brows to you.

"Look, let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I just walk you through a hypothetical." Bucky started.

"What did you do?" Sam questioned, his brow furrowing as he turned back to face him.

You felt tense again, arms uncrossing from your chest. You weren't quiet sure what was going on now. Clearly Sam had caught on to something you'd missed. Bucky launched into a far too detailed plan and you felt a shiver run down your spine. Every hair stood on end as the dawning realization hit.

"You didn't..." You almost whispered as Sam interrupted again. Then the door was opening and your ears were ringing. Your heart pounded in your throat as Sam charged forward in front of you. You were still stunned, now behind them both as Zemo entered the garage, dressed in a guards uniform.

He caught eyes with you for a moment, taking his hat off before returning to Sam and Bucky's argument. His eyes seemed to drift back to you before he interjected again.

You found yourself standing under his scrutinizing gaze, drifting closer to Sam, inching him further between you and Zemo. You barely followed what was being said, waiting for him to pull a gun or stop staring. Either was preferable in this moment.

"Okay." Sam spoke, defeat in his tone. You clenched your jaw. You didn't like this. If the guy wasn't gonna attack he was going to manipulate his way to his release, you were sure.

Still he seemed cooperative, leading you all back to a larger room filled with old cars. They were expensive things but you didn't let your eyes wander from him. Choosing to break the middle of the pack, you kept yourself between Sam and him. Despite his words and values you wanted to remain vigilant. If you could do nothing else you'd shield Sam.

Other than a few snide comments he seemed true to his word. He drove the group of you to an airport in mostly silence. Peaking back at you and Sam through the mirror.

"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam said incredulous at the sight of the privet jet on the tarmac. You'd calmed down a little, walking by him and Bucky's side as you followed.

"I'm a Baron Sam, my family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Zemo spat back. You couldn't help but snort at his comment. You regretted drawing his attention again when he stared back at you. You looked away until his attention left, drawn else where.

Bucky and Sam eyed you a moment and the indignation flared in you again. "What? They dropped that city on me." you hissed quietly. You weren't sure you wanted Zemo to hear that. Sam looked stunned blinking at you before he was turned back to the plane. You fell back in step behind the group as you approached.

You suppose you never did tell him about that. Just letting it stew with your general hatred towards your then captors back then. It'd been a huge loss to you. A life built there crashing down on top of you, leaving you broken and pinned for days. You shook the memories away trying to forget the carnage.

Zemo greeted an old butler looking guy at the steps. To your delight he was wearing the little white gloves and everything. Sam awkwardly nodded and you gave the man a genuine smile as you passed. He was just like the caricature on TV. He looked to be 100 and considering his familiarity with Zemo he could've known him all his life.

It soon set you on edge to be at his mercy 1000 feet in the air. With a knowing look he could fly you all anywhere and you'd be none the wiser. Certainly wouldn't make a change from most flights you'd been on, at least your hands would be free.

Zemo smiled at you as you boarded, gesturing to the seat opposite his own. You ducked your head, shifting quickly to the back behind Sam. If the staring was bad in the garage you sure as hell didn't wanna experience it in direct line of sight.

You didn't catch his name but Zemo spoke to the butler in Sokovian for a moment, implying he'd give out of date food to Sam and Bucky. Angered you huffed, Zemo turning at the sound. You caught his eye, keeping a glare set on his smug expression.

"Nicht." You bit out through gritted teeth. Your Sokovian was rusty but you saw the slightest change in Zemo's expression, before it settle back into a cat like grin.

"Tut mir leid." He nodded, turning back to face forwards again. Sam's head peaked at you from round his seat but you just slumped back into your own. Staring out the window and gripping the arm rests as the plane took flight.

Not long into cruising altitude Zemo angered Bucky. You hadn't been paying them much attention by this point. You'd found yourself relaxing and had become dazzled my the ice on the window and fluffy clouds below. You were startled back by the sudden movement of Bucky. Jumping up and catching Bucky's eye as he took his hand off Zemo's neck and slumped back into his seat, his book back in his hands.

Cursing under your breath you moved to the seat in front of Zemo now. You resigned yourself to a task to keep you awake, stop them from killing one another.

Zemo spoke an apology, but it seemed more probing than you liked. To your relief Sam seemed to turn the conversation back to lighter topics. You slid further into your seat a moment before Zemo began pushing again. You glare into him, not missing the way he glanced at you when he said "innocents die."

A small pang of fear hit you but you bit back a response. He'd clearly caught the hint of resentment you felt towards what happened in Sokovia. Still you kept your gaze level as you bit your cheek and allowed Zemo to continue.

Madripoor, you'd only ever been there in passing. The lawless nature allowed you to obtain some fake documents for relatively cheap. It was too risky to stick around though, too many dangers, too much risk of outing yourself.

Worse still Bucky was gonna have to put on an old mask.

Soldat

[cleave-and-plough]

opening with a retelling of the prelude, episode 3 centers the fairy tale aesthetic as anthy takes on the role of cinderella, cooking and cleaning with her rodent sidekick and eventually making her way to the ball in a borrowed gown. utena continues to worry about her roommate's lack of friends other than chu-chu, though she seems halfhearted about it. more than anything, anthy confuses utena - she seems perfectly content with her subservient, lonely life, and i wonder if utena feels any sort of envy towards that certainty. utena herself constantly straddles two worlds - beloved of the school yet adrift in it, desiring to be a prince but put off by the council's apparent cosplay of nobility. anthy's part in that play might be an unpleasant one, but at least she knows who she is. maybe peace can come of that, but utena isn't sure yet. even in her frustrated rejection of anthy's "game," she sounds unconvinced: "i don't want a bride, i want a normal boy..."

these words call forth her new admirer, president touga, who flirts with utena and touches her hair. utena slaps his hand away, to anthy's shock, and i'm torn whether she feels this is an affront to the sanctity of the president's dignity or she's stunned to see someone act so straightforwardly, eluding the games and riddles of the council. meanwhile, utena wonders if touga could have been the prince from her childhood, as he bears the same ring. her longing and her repulsion vie with each other, and it strikes me that she may be trying to reconcile her romantic feelings with the weight compulsory heterosexuality, especially if this is ultimately a love story between utena and anthy (and it may not be). utena feels and desires love, but can't quite name why it feels off to think of touga in that way.

a new rose enters the cast: nanami, the yellow rose, and touga's younger sister. like saionji's admirers, she despises anthy for capturing her brother's attention, and seeks to humiliate her at the ball, telling her she has been nominated freshman dance queen and sending her a false dress. neither utena nor anthy wish to attend the dance, utena because she dislikes the atmosphere and anthy because she becomes anxious in a crowd. it's almost an intimate moment between them wherein they could bond, but utena's worries about anthy's social life take precedence, and she tells anthy to go, still not realizing that anthy will obey her commands. these scenes hurt keenly - utena has good intentions, but she isn't able to follow the rules of anthy's communication, pushing them apart. anthy puts on a smile, but i suspect she is bearing up alone in sorrow as well.

at last, the ball, held in a grand hall and celebrating the first day of spring. the silhouettes refer to the dance as a "man trap" and call the girls in attendance "shameless," perhaps foreshadowing nanami's treachery. in this, it's notable that this episode doesn't feature a duel, and yet it feels just as combative. in this domain, where women are expected to tactfully compete for the approval of men, nanami challenges anthy for touga's love and wins, but falls to the dauntless utena.

utena's dress amazes the students, particularly touga himself, who once again approaches her. utena is on the verge of asking touga if he is the prince from her memory but can't bring herself to, and i honestly wonder how he would respond if asked. on the one hand, his presence so far has been sinister and paranoia-inducing, always watching utena from afar, and so it wouldn't be a surprise if he were to falsely claim the prince's identity, yet i harbor some belief that he's committed enough to the rules of the council that he wouldn't dishonor himself through lies just for his own gain. i feel sure somehow that this question will be answered.

before utena and touga can end their conversation naturally, anthy's scream echoes through the hall - nanami's trap has been sprung and the dress, now soaked with champagne, is dissolving. there's a despicable sense of colorism and racism to the treatment of anthy that seems particularly strong here, especially following the scene of her anxiety amidst the many faces at the dance, all of which are light-skinned. the people around anthy treat her as lesser, striking, objectifying, and ostracizing her, and it's painful to watch. i'm not sure if the show will ever name this, but anthy does seem intentionally positioned as being south asian, possibly indian, if her birthmark is meant to echo the placement of a bindi. i recall an episode about india but... if my memory serves i don't think it was too focused on cultural politics...

in any case, utena's princely instincts kick in - she doffs her dress and saves anthy in dramatic fashion, wrapping her a new gown magically crafted from a tablecloth and asking her to dance. anthy smiles, and the two embrace, dancing in the center of the hall as the rest of the students watch, fascinated. nanami, realizing touga has feelings for utena, resolves to refocus her aggression, hinting at a duel to come. but utena and anthy are unconscious of this, swaying in each other's arms across the dancefloor. utena is living her fantasy - the prince who rescues the princess - while anthy is serving her role - the damsel in distress, the adoring bride. i still wonder how much comfort that brings her, or if she feels the bittersweet irony of utena saving her from a situation utena herself prompted. at these moments, she appears fulfilled, but is it just method acting?

"how i ache for a part in a play / i could say i didn't blow" - ferron

stray thoughts:

with the addition of nanami and the next episode preview, it seems we have names and colors for each of the rose characters: utena's is pink (or white), touga's red, saionji's green, juri's orange, miki's blue, and nanami's yellow. it seems like anthy's might be purple, but i'm not sure if that's been shown or just my association.

the integration of school life with the surrealism of the council continues to provide an interesting contrast; touga is excited by the prospect of the ball, and it seems intentionally unclear how much this plays into his role in the council and how much is the thrill of the chance to dance with his crush.

saionji has holed up in his room in shame after his second defeat by utena. it's nice not having him around, but i fear his return.

[feifeixiv]

For the Now

Having to debrief the experience of soul extraction and implantation into another vessel immediately after waking up in his own skin left Fei feeling more discomforted than the actual process. The nameless Garlean soldier, their body, left to be used at the whims of a madman and his accomplice. His mouth was a little dry, mind varying degrees of unfocused as he pieced the parts together little by little.

Perhaps he was rambling. The looks on the faces of his friends grew increasingly grim the more words spilled from his lips, eyes alternating between his face and each others’ as he explained the harrowing tale of mere moments ago. The only one who had yet to speak was G’raha Tia, mouth skewed into a tight, unforgiving line.

The sound of crunching snow as several sets of shoes ambled away to give him a brief reprieve, their dark whispers varying degrees of concern and disgust. The few who heard ruminated over the tale brought back by their Warrior of Light, some in disbelief, others in fury.

The tempering of the remaining Garlean people, setting the camp on edge as a handy diversion to spirit Fei away into the body of another. Dragging the unfamiliar sack of flesh through battle, and snow, and near death back to Camp Broken Glass. A last minute, desperate rescue of G’raha and Alisaie as Zenos yae Galvus reached close enough to maim, to murder, with Fei’s hands and Fei’s strength.

“I hope you’ll forgive me, Fei.”

The words broke through the fragile thoughts of Fei Qian, who, with a little shake of his hair, turned to G’raha with confusion. “Forgive? What is there to forgive?” he asked, pressing his fingers to either side of the bridge of his nose in an concerted effort to ease the anxiety building within his chest.

Worrying his hands together, G’raha avoided Fei’s pointed look. “When you went missing, our hands were full with Jullus and the others,” he explained, as had already been explained when Fei awoke. “Though I knew something was unusual, I could not spare the effort of finding you, of even thinking that something was amiss. I erred in my judgement, and for that I hope you may forgive me.”

“You may take heart in the knowledge that Zenos and the fool that accompanies him do not wish me harm or death.” The budding headache subsided, some of the pressure alleviating. Fei sighed in relief and focused now on the matter at hand. He placed his hands on G’raha’s shoulders.

“To incite my rancor, to bring my fury to bear, that it his wish.” He grimaced, fingers digging a little too hard into the meat of G’raha’s arms. For his part, G’raha did not complain, vivid crimson eyes locked onto Fei as though taking in every detail, memorizing a man with which he was already painfully familiar. “A goal to which he has dedicated his all; the harm to the lives of his people, the very land upon which he draws aether, the people I know and love, it is his gift and I the unwilling recipient.”

Fei’s heart raced a little in his chest, a burning ache stretching along his veins, prickling across his flesh. “The Champion of Eorzea, the Warrior of Light, the Hero of the people. Titles borne of triumph turned into spears with which to pierce. How much is one man meant to bear?”

G’raha stiffened, the words searing into him like a brand on his heart. Despondent, exhausted, distressed. Things that Fei rarely openly expressed were nakedly visible in the slant of eyes, the twist of his mouth.

G’raha took a step backwards out of Fei’s grasp, barely catching the split second flash of hurt shimmering in those bright eyes. He took a deep breath, eyes closers, steadying his resolve, before throwing his arms wide and leaping towards Fei.

Startled, Fei steeled himself for the catch, nearly toppling into the snow. Where their cheeks squished together burned with the cold. The hug was warm though, with the comforting weight of G’raha in his arms. The memory of his final days in the Crystarium, on the First, reeled through his mind, and the feelings Fei had suppressed rushed back with this simple gesture. 

“G’raha,” he said, shocked, leaning over slightly to place him down. Neither of them released the other, hands fisted into matching coats like desperate lifelines.

“You are strong,” G’raha started clumsily, the words brushing past Fei’s cheek. “Yet even the strongest do not need to bear the weight of the world alone. Unworthy as I may be, please let me shoulder some of your burden, let me hold that which you cannot. What strength belongs to me, is forever yours.”

An aching, broiling sensation rose from Fei’s chest as he pulled back slightly, noses close enough to brush. A sour taste rose in his throat, but Fei ignored it, forcing back the damp warmth from his eyes. “You speak as though you’d stake yourself upon every spear rather than allow them close,” Fei said, half teasing, half in awe. Even without those final moments together before the Exarch became wholly crystalline recorded into the spirit vessel, G’raha, he…

“Should that be true, would you dislike it?” G’raha countered, a fierce blush burning on his cheeks.

Fei chuckled lightly. “You would never get the chance to put it to proof.”

[fanfiction-recited]

There was something beyond fear in Shmi’s eyes. Something beyond worry and terror. There was a bleak, hopeless resignation. The weight of an enemy unstoppable, the pain of a love that could only be used as a weapon against you. The burden of chains, too many to even count, too heavy to ever escape. The cost to flee them too high to bear.

It wasn’t just an expression, it was impressions, dancing along Leia’s skin, sliding into her mind and rippling against her own fear and grief, like Shmi was crying, straight into the well of Leia’s emotions, fearful and hopeless and—

(She’d given him away, she’d let them take her son, and she’d born the weight, the grief of that, assuming she’d never, ever get to see him, and then to have him back, to have another, too have more, all to have it be taken, balanced over fire and blades, her children—)

Arms, warm and strong, wrapping around Leia’s mind, wrapping around both of them. Bravery and courage and “I know there’s good in him,” and, “I wish I could be half as strong as you are.” Luke, Luke was still there, was always with her, would always—

“Luminous beings are we,” Leia heard Yoda’s voice, a clear memory, teaching and teasing, “not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you; here, between you, me…everywhere, yes.”

For a moment, just one, Leia felt them. Like strings of light spinning out of her, reaching, reaching, reaching…

- Duty Bound by acuteneurosis, Archive Of Our Own

[mya2916]

Anvil Blue

I was a gift for the girl's sixteenth birthday. Her father brought me down from Michigan the night before, and the house hummed with anticipation. As the sun crept over the horizon, she stepped outside, her eyes locking onto me, wide with disbelief. Her joyous screams shattered the quiet morning, filling the neighborhood with the kind of happiness only youth can bring.

“I’m going to call you Tim Corbin!” she declared, affection spilling from her voice as she threw open my door, sliding into the driver's seat like she was stepping into a dream. Her hands gripped my steering wheel as if she held the key to her future. Her joy was radiant, like sunshine spilling across an open field. She loved my color, anvil blue, and often said it matched her spirit perfectly.

Wherever she went, I followed. We explored the familiar streets of our Midwestern town together, often picking up her best friend Olivia, who was as lively and bright as she was. The two of them would laugh and chatter endlessly, and in those moments, I became their sanctuary on wheels, their little slice of freedom.

She greeted me every morning with a smile, and every evening, she talked to me like no one else. I became her confidant, her therapist, absorbing her stories, her heartbreaks, her dreams. I listened to every breakdown and sang along to her off-key renditions of whatever played on the radio. I carried her through the long, tear-filled drives down empty country roads and reveled in the moments when her friends filled me with their joyous screams, the wind blowing through my open windows as music pulsed through the night air.

I wasn’t just her car; I was her world. She drove me twenty minutes into Maumee to her job at the car wash, where she spent her free time cleaning me, making me shine brighter than any other vehicle. I was her trusted companion during spring softball season, my trunk filled with her equipment, and she never doubted I’d get her home safely, even through snowstorms and the tense, white-knuckle drives that winter in Ohio often demanded. In the summer, she’d take my top down and sit on my roll bar with her friends, staring up at the sky, soaking in the moments that defined their youth.

When the time came for her to leave Ohio, to head south for a new chapter, I watched her tears fall as she said goodbye to her hometown. But, fortunately for her—and for me—I got to come along for the ride. For a while, at least. Her parents began to worry, fretting about her safety in a two-door Jeep Wrangler like me. I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d have to let go.

She fought it, though. She wailed in protest, refusing to let me go. I welcomed her tearful embrace as she curled up in my backseat, her sobs soaking into the memories we’d created together. She whispered to me, telling me she didn’t want to give me up, that I was hers, and she was mine. I wished I could comfort her, wished I could wipe her tears away as she struggled to bear the weight of our goodbye.

If only she knew how honored I feel, having been there to watch her grow. I will carry her laughter and her tears with me, echoing in the empty spaces of my cabin, forever. And though she will move on, I will hold onto the memories of every smile, every drive, and every whispered secret, for as long as my wheels keep turning.

[cupidriki]

ENHYPEN FORGETTING YOUR BIRTHDAY. ( PART TWO )

GENRE fluff, angst, comfort, happy ending for all~ WARNINGS kissing, cursing. PAIRING enhypen x afab reader. STAR’S DAIRY listen I know I said this is fluff but I couldn't help it.. HEADPHONES PLAYING.. 505 by arctic monkeys, imperfect for you by ariana grande, i wish i hated you by ariana grande.

L.HS ★

“fuck fuck fuck, where are you love.” Heeseung's eyes were filled with tears, which spilled down his cheeks as he felt a strong sense of guilt and emptiness. He had been searching for you, but to no avail, and he kept cursing himself out in his head for not being able to locate you. The pain and anguish on his face were palpable, as he struggled to come to terms with the situation. Despite his efforts, he felt helpless and lost, not knowing where to turn next.

But then a memory hit his head. The place where you two met.

He saw you crying on a bench in front of a gorgeous river. He remembered going up to you and offering the donuts he just bought.

Immediately rushing to that area, his heart shattered into a million pieces.

Everyone viewed Heeseung as strong. But what made Heeseung crumble into pieces was you crying. Or just you in general. You were his biggest weakness.

As he walked past the park, his heart sank at the thought of never seeing you again. But when he saw you sitting on a bench, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing that you were still around. However, that relief was tinged with sadness as he remembered the reason why you were crying, Him.

He approached you with a sense of hesitation, his steps slow and cautious. As he drew closer, you could see the uncertainty etched on his face. Finally, he dropped to his knees before you, his body language conveying a mix of vulnerability and desperation.

“I'm so sorry love. Please forgive me..”

Despite being angry, you couldn't help but feel a sense of powerlessness. Witnessing Heeseung's tears always had a profound effect on you, making you feel like you were falling apart. Heeseung was the one person who could break down your walls, and he was your biggest weakness.

Your anger being torn down, you pick him up from his knees and hug him tightly.

In the midst of tears streaming down both of your faces, Heeseung tenderly cups your face with his hands. He gazes into your eyes with a mixture of concern and affection before pulling you into a deep and passionate kiss. The intensity of the moment takes your breath away and for a moment, everything else fades away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

P.JS ★

Worry was an understatement for what Jay was feeling right now. Jay already planned a fancy restaurant date and bought you a diamond necklace.

Jay was feeling incredibly foolish at the moment. He couldn't help but wish he had the power to turn back the clock and undo what caused you to become upset with him. The situation was weighing heavily on his mind, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let you down.

As he was driving down the road towards your house, his mind was weighed down by a heavy burden of thoughts. The weight of his worries seemed to be taking a toll on his driving abilities, making him somewhat nervous and jittery behind the wheel. The road ahead appeared blurry, and he found it hard to focus on the task at hand. The fear of crashing was looming large in his mind, as he struggled to keep his emotions under control while navigating the way to your place.

As he made his way to your doorstep, his heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. The weight of the emotions he had kept bottled up for so long became too much to bear, and tears began to stream down his face. He tried to wipe them away, but they continued to spill out uncontrollably. Finally, he stood in front of your door, taking a deep breath before ringing the bell, hoping beyond hope that you would be there to comfort him.

But when he entered your bedroom, His worst nightmare happened. you crying because of him.

As you were sitting there on your bed, tears streaming down your face, he felt a pang of sadness and empathy in his heart. He couldn't bear to see you in such distress, so he rushed towards you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. He held you tightly in his arms as if to shield you from the world and all its troubles. Your sobs gradually subsided as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance in your ear, reminding you that you were not alone and that he was sorry.

With all your pent-up frustration and anger, you hit his chest over and over again. But no matter how hard you hit his chest, he didn't react or leave. Just holding you and muttering out a thousand apologies.

“Shh, sweetheart, it's okay..”

“I know I'm sorry..”

As you struggle to keep your anger up, you eventually give up and drown in his warmth. You bury your face in his chest and hold him tightly, seeking comfort from his warmth and steady presence. Your sobs rack through your body, and you cling to him as if he were the only anchor in a stormy sea. Despite the pain and sadness you feel, his embrace brings a small measure of peace to your troubled heart.

“I'm sorry… I love you, Jay.”

“I love you more. remember that, yeah?”

Both of you drowning in each others warmth.

S.JY ★

Jake felt like an asshole.

He hurriedly dashed out of his front door, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of you. He started running as fast as he could, his heart pounding with anxiety and anticipation. He kept running, his breaths becoming ragged and labored, as he searched for you on every corner of the street. His mind was filled with a sense of urgency and a desperate need to find you. And finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted you in the distance and sprinted towards you with a sense of relief and joy.

The sense of happiness and contentment that was flowing through his body suddenly dissipated the moment he saw you walking alone in the rain, fully prepared for the forgotten date, It was as if a dark cloud had descended upon him, casting a shadow over his previously joyous mood. The sight of you braving the rain all by yourself was enough to break his heart and leave him feeling empty inside.

As he rushed towards you, his heart pounding in his chest, he could feel his own desperation mounting. He needed to hold you, to feel your warmth and your presence, but as he wrapped his arms around you, he was hit by a wave of guilt. The sound of your sobs tore at his soul, making him feel like the worst person in the world. Despite his own pain, he couldn't bear to see you in distress, and he vowed to do everything in his power to make it right.

“I-i’m sorry..”

“Please, baby.. Forgive me.”

“I’ll do anything you want. Please just look at me..”

You still keeping your head low, he sobbed and sobbed waiting for a reply. Apologizing over and over again.

“Please..”

“P-please..”

As he stuttered through more desperate pleas and tearful begs, he felt like he was sinking into a bottomless pit of despair. But just when he thought he had hit rock bottom, he felt a warm embrace hugging him back. As he looked at you, he saw you looking up at him with eyes full of compassion and understanding. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink of hopelessness and giving him the strength to pull you closer.

“It's okay Jake..”

Jake feeling a sense of relief and pure joy, he hugs you tighter in his arms, while the both of you are sputtering out a bunch of “I love you”s.

P.SH ★

Sunghoon felt depressed. Without you giving him any response, he was lost and worried. Not knowing where you are.

Typically, he was not one to display his emotions so openly in front of others, but at the thought of your absence, he found himself unable to hold back the flood of tears that were streaming down his cheeks. The mere thought of being without you was too much for him to bear, and he felt utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions.

Amidst his uncontrollable sobs, he pays no heed to the concerned words of his friends and hurriedly steps out of the door. His heart aches with a profound sense of longing for the warmth of your loving embrace, as he struggles to cope with the overwhelming emotions that have engulfed him. The tears continue to trickle down his face, blurring his vision and making it difficult for him to navigate his way through the world. All he can think of at this moment is how much he needs you, how much he craves the comfort and solace that only you can provide.

He looked everywhere. Your house, your favorite shops, where you two met, and even your friend's houses.

As he jogged around his neighborhood, feeling hopeless and lost in thought, an idea suddenly clicked in his head.

The beach, with its endless expanse of sand and sea, was the one place where he always took you to help you clear your mind and sort through your thoughts.

The salty breeze, the sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the warm sun on your skin all combined to create a peaceful and calming atmosphere, allowing you to escape the chaos of daily life and find a moment of clarity. Whether you walked along the shoreline, sat in the sand, or simply stared out at the horizon, the beach offered a sense of tranquility that was hard to find anywhere else.

As he hurried towards the beach, he experienced a mix of emotions that left him feeling both relieved and guilty. The relief came from the fact that he had finally found you but seeing you cuddled up while hugging your knees made him guilty.

As he stood there contemplating whether or not to approach you, his mind was filled with negative thoughts and doubts. However, he mustered up the courage to push those negative feelings aside and sat next to you.

“I-im sorry, my love..”

Looking up at you with desperate puppy eyes, you couldn't help but melt into his gaze.

“You’re lucky you're adorable.” before kissing his cheek.

K.SN ★

Sunoo wanted to drown himself. He couldn't believe he hurt a gorgeous and pure person like you.

Sunoo is in a state of desperation as he tries to call you repeatedly. His body is engulfed with a sense of worry and guilt that seems to weigh him down.

Desperately trying to hold back his tears, he quickly ran down the street to your house, his heart pounding in his chest. As he gasped for breath, he prayed that you were home, hoping that he would see you. Which he desperately needed. The weight of his troubles felt overwhelming, but he knew that with you there, he could find the strength to face them. Racing up to your front door, he banged on it with all his might, hoping that you would hear him and come to his aid.

After what seemed like an eternity, he noticed the doorknob turn and the door creak open. A pair of hesitant eyes peered out from behind the crack, and he could sense the trepidation in your body language. You seemed to be hiding behind the door, as if unsure of whether to let him in or not.

As he stood there, an overwhelming sense of desperation washed over him, causing tears to stream down his face uncontrollably. The weight of his emotions became too much to bear, and he sank to his knees, feeling completely helpless at that moment.

“Please, baby..” holding your hands while looking up at you.

As you see him kneeling before you, tears streaming down his face, your heart fills with empathy and compassion. Without hesitation, you reach out to him and pull him up into a warm embrace, holding him tightly. You feel the warmth of his body and the weight of his sadness, and you offer comfort and strength in this moment of vulnerability. As you hold him, you feel the tears running down your own cheeks, moved by the depth of his pain and the power of your connection. In this embrace, you share a moment of pure human emotion, transcending words and labels, and expressing the essence of love and compassion.

“It's okay.. Just don't do it again okay..?”

Y.JW ★

Jungwon didn't know what to do.

He spent weeks planning every detail of his surprise for you. He knew how much you loved your favorite restaurant, so he made sure to book a reservation at the best table in the house. He had carefully chosen a beautiful promise ring, one that he knew you would adore. As the night approached, he grew more and more excited, eager to see the look on your face when he presented you with the ring.

Jungwon had a stroke of bad luck when he forgot an important event - your birthday. Out of all the days in the year, this was the one day that he forgot, leaving him feeling incredibly guilty for his mistake. It was a significant day for you, and he failed to acknowledge it in any way, which only added to his remorse.

You weren't answering his multiple texts and calls and he was feeling hopeless.

With a sense of urgency, he sprinted towards your house, his heart beating faster than ever before. As he ran, he felt warm tears streaming down his cheeks, blurring his vision. The overwhelming emotions within him made him feel like he was drowning in a sea of despair. Yet, he pushed on, determined to reach your home as quickly as possible.

In a hurry, he inserted the spare key into the lock and quickly turned it, unlocking the door with a sharp click. Without wasting a second, he dashed towards your room, his heart beating wildly in his chest. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the hallway as he covered the distance in a frenzy, filled with urgency and concern. Finally reaching your door, he paused for a moment to take a deep breath before gently pushing it open, anxious to see if you were okay.

As soon as his eyes met yours, a strange sensation took over his body - as if all the energy had been drained out of him. He couldn't bear to see you in tears, it was painful to witness. The anguish in your eyes made him feel helpless, and he wished he could do something to take away your sorrow.

Jungwon approached you and you could sense the hesitation in his movements as he took a step closer. Despite the anger boiling within you, you didn't resist as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You both wept uncontrollably, holding onto each other as if your lives depended on it. It felt as though all the pent-up emotions had finally been released, and there was nothing left to do but hold each other and cry.

“I'm sorry darling.. Forgive me, please?”

As you finally make a decision, without a second thought, you reach out and gently place a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards you. You look deep into his eyes and give him a soft, sweet kiss, hoping to ease his mind and let him know that everything will be alright. As you pull away, you see a glimmer of relief in his eyes, and you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

N.RK ★

this was Riki’s first time in love. Because of his busy idol life, he never really paid any attention to what love was and what it felt like.

As soon as he laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of connection. It was as if everything he had been searching for in life had finally fallen into place. Your smile, your laugh, the way you carried yourself - everything about you seemed to draw him in and captivate him. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that you were the one he had been waiting for. The one he would spend the rest of his life with.

As he sat there, his mind racing, he couldn't help but think that he might have lost you for good. The thought of not having you in his life was unbearable. He wondered if he should reach out to you and offer his heartfelt apologies for what he had done wrong, or if he should give you some space and time to process your emotions. It was a difficult decision to make, and he felt torn between wanting to make things right and not wanting to make matters worse.

So he did what he always did. Take a walk around the streets of Seoul to get his thoughts out of his mind. He entered a convience store and got your favorite flavor of cake. Hoping to give it to you when he found you.

The sight of you sitting all alone in an empty park and staring vacantly into the distance only made his already troubled thoughts worse. He couldn't help but wonder what might be going on in your mind and what could have brought you to that place. The silence of the park seemed to amplify the weight of his own thoughts, making him feel even more isolated and alone.

As you sat side by side, he hesitantly reached out and took your hand in his, his grip tight and reassuring. His eyes were fixed on you, filled with an intensity that revealed his unspoken feelings. He longed for you to turn and meet his gaze, to see the depth of his emotions reflected in your eyes. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the quiet intensity of the moment.

As you took your hand off him, he eagerly grabbed the cake and brought it closer to you with a sad smile on his face. His eyes were shining with need, and he looked a young child showing his mom a new drawing he had just completed. The cake was beautifully decorated with colorful frosting and sprinkles, and it smelled heavenly. You could tell he had put a lot of effort into finding the perfect cake for you.

“I-i know that it isn't the best but..”

“I'm sorry.. I wish I could turn back time.”

As you reach for the cake, you do so silently, trying not to disturb the peace around you. You take a bite and feel the sweet taste melt in your mouth. With a feeling of contentment, you drop your head on his shoulder and take in the stunning view of the river in front of you. The sun is setting, and the sky is painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple, creating a spectacular canvas of colors. The water flows steadily, and you can hear the sound of gentle waves hitting the banks. You feel a sense of calm wash over you as you take in the beauty of the moment and share it with someone special.

“I’ll forgive you if you play royal high with me..”

THANK YOU FOR READING! <3

-written by rk1stars

TL - @cholexc

[soraeia]

@kinglyisms​ || from { x }

The question was initially just a playful joke, but upon seeing Eric seem to take it so seriously, she waited patiently for his answer. A curious smile as she watches him think...and think....and the longer his silence draws out, the more nervous she begins to feel. Allisae looks away and smiles at the darkening sky through the window instead, in hopes of making that anxiety less apparent.

She knew Eric, but often she found him unpredictable. And it scared her sometimes. Never in any manner that left her frightened for her own well-being---no, it was more a fear of hurting him somehow. Opening up old wounds. Accidentally picking at scars. Because for as tall and as strong Eric stood, there were times when Allisae found him quite fragile.

How she wished she could help bear some of the weight he tries to carry alone.

In this moment she found herself wondering if simply asking him such question forced some painful memories of his to resurface.

That worry seemed to be confirmed when he mentioned “Elisabeth”, a past lover from what it sounds like and a piece of knowledge that came as a surprise to her. But his next words catches her further off guard...

“When I met you, I learned to love through trust.”

“.......”

She stares at him for a while, not really worrying if she stared too long. Not paying mind to the flowers that begin to bloom from the soils of any potted plants nearby. Or the shift in magic within the air around her.

But then she remembers how sensitive the manor was, and so she tries her best to suppress her emotions again. Though this time the smile on her face as she glances away is genuine and warm. Happy.

“....Yes, I think so.”

[likemosaic]

"then we are two of a pair," he responds fondly, watching her laugh, biting back amusement at the idea of alta drifting to sleep standing up. a feeling the exarch can sympathize with. there is simply not enough time in the span of a day to do all that must be done. is it really so bad, to sacrifice a mite of sleep each night? her tail brushing his leg makes him feel like he's been filled with the contents of a eulmoran hot air balloon, and his tail twitches under his robes.

when alta takes the door, he's relieved. the exarch stumbles past her with a nod and a quiet, my thanks, grateful for the bathroom counter that lets him lean on it for support. it gives him the ability to listen to her better, to hear her story from her mouth, not the written word of her ishgardian pseudo-father (no doubt with his own corrections, for the sake of her reputation; g'raha spent a significant amount of time in the ruins, piecing together the story of the city that alta had once made home). he's gladdened that his theory was right: no matter how accurate the re-telling, hearing it from the woman herself is endlessly more fascinating.

"the crystarium is more similar to the steppe than you think. in fact, fire crystals are not too dissimilar to how we manage our water system," he responds, though that's a far simplified explanation for the piping and heating running throughout his magnum opus of a city. "i've read about kugane's geysers beneath the city. though i've never had the pleasure." he smiles, tail swishing thoughtlessly under his robes, a natural instinct in response to what g'raha refuses to believe could be shyness. he remembers an old corvosi phrase: "there truly is nothing new under the sun, is there? across all time and reflections, we are connected."

better company. g'raha's eyes widen a fraction in surprise, mouth soft. then he glances away, clears his throat. "you are more than tolerable," he says, quietly, as if afraid someone might overhear, "'tis my own inadequacies that plague me, i fear. but you? you are without flaw." he worries that she's remembering him as he was as an eager young archon, cannot see how he is or might be. even in dreams, even in memories, the exarch feels the weight of crystal on his body, something he once took some sort of vain pride in. the scarring and remnants of a difficult life do not help the picture.

the exarch stands, with a wince. he procures alta a towel from the rack and hands it to her, as if a parting gift. "i...i understand you are being your compassionate self, by inviting me to bathe with you. and i am honored, deeply so. but...you needn't humor me, my friend. if you wish, i will find another place to...soak, as it were. you have more than earned your peace." alta's last chance to dip out, if she wanted to. his insecurity threatens to choke him, even at his age, and he would be remiss to not offer her the chance to change her mind.

a pause, and he nearly blurts it out: "i know you have had your fill of suitors, unwanted and wanted. i would not want you to think that i--that is, i would--...agh. you are very dear to me," he finishes, ears falling against his head, cheeks truly red now, "but i could not bear the thought of you believing i am interested in only one thing, as some men are from some women. especially after all you have suffered on my account."

For just a beat, Alta is speechless. His tone and inflection is nearly perfect, despite no such Steppe existing in what remained of the First. The word curled comfortably in his mouth, just throaty enough that it made warmth spark within her chest. Despite his hurts - despite his weary mind, body and soul - ... he was still in there, and the flickers of it were beautiful.

G'raha was still in there. It pulled at her heartstrings and curled her lips, her tail flickering to swat at his thigh. Had he been Xaela - had he his own tail exposed - she likely would have interlaced those limbs, too, wordlessly letting him know how much the sentiment touched her.

She reaches up, shielding her mouth and the small bite of laughter that came at his confession. Yes - he would be the type to read in a bath. Even in Mor Dhona, when he was bold and odd-eyed, he had been a scholar at heart, underneath his mischief.

"Well - ... I cannot much judge," she confessed. The last hot shower she had taken was in Eulmore, the air so cloying and thick with incense that it had nearly given her a headache. She was lucky enough to have the energy now to wash her face and give her body a cursory wipe with a rag before she collapsed into her rented Pendants room. "I am - ... bad about nodding off. In the shower. It's - ... too comfortable and quiet."

She hesitated, squinting as the light came to life. As her eyes adjusted, she took in the decadence of the place - not to mention the sheer size. It was as darkly painted as the rest of the simulated city, but the lamps and overhead lanterns shone so brightly that it made up for it.

She averted her gaze from the opulence, stepping in ahead of him just enough that she could hold the door open with her hip. The dark floorboards had been replaced with a smooth, cold stone that seemed to glitter in the lamplight, and a massive, wrought iron window sat above a soaking tub large enough for even the tallest Elezen.

It was, frankly, quite ridiculous - ... but after all they had been through, maybe the distraction of such niceties was needed.

"On the Steppe - ... hm. We used fire crystals," she said, unlinking their hands so that she could gesture absently. "If you place enough in a basin or a pot, it will make it nearly boil. When it was too cool to bathe in the rivers - ... we would warm the water that way. Or if one was very small," she added. Speaking of falling asleep in overly warm water...

"When I first made it to Kugane - when I left the Steppe - ... I had no idea hot springs existed. It was - ... so nice," she said sheepishly. Absently, she meandered into the room, taking in all the little things that proved that part of her had once lived here. Big, squishy towels hung by the wash basin; glass jars of colorful granules and dried herbs lined the windowsill. There were a few bottles she couldn't quite make out, the liquid inside thick and translucent like honey.

If Azem had truly been her, she had no doubt it smelled just as sweet, too.

"I do. But - ... I have gained more than I've lost, being here," she admitted, her tail's curious loops slowing into something a bit more shy. "Like - hot running water, and baked bread. And better company, besides."

She turned to him, gazing at the dark smears under his eyes and the exhausted curl of his shoulders.

"Hopefully," Alta teased, "you will still find my company tolerable - ... after I'm done healing you."