#idk how much sense im making. my head hurts but it makes sense in my head

[enden-k]

im sorry to hear people are stomping all over your boundaries, big props to you for sticking up for yourself and putting your foot down. I hope you're doing ok (/gen)

on another, hopefully happier note, i noticed your info post mentions that you self ship! I'd love to hear about your favourite self ships if you're comfortable talking about them some time?

i actually never did or had interest in this but then haitham waltzed in so hes the first and only one (this whole thing flusters me so its smth i indulge in for myself in private by reading or daydreaming or sometimes i babble and ramble about him very in depth)

(most hkvthm things i draw is just me going 'wish that was me' and drawing it LMFAO)

ohh also same w kaveh but in a slightly different way than haitham (theyre both the only ones) i want them to hold hands. i want them to hold my hands. there

[cannibalismyuri]

(song added by me)

[this-doesnt-endd]

Anyways ive been having a lot more headaches and like yeah its kinda the territory w having major head trauma and epilepsy but ive gotten quiet a lot in the past few weeks way more than the past few months and they get debilitating and if it happens out and about it sucks cause they last incredibly long and im essentially hostage to the whim of it and if itll go away or if my meds for it will help or not and itll ruin what im doing and i cant help it or fix it

[ace-with--a-mace]

i think ive been in a constant state of melancholy

[angstflavoured]

shakes my hands above my head and paces around the room im so sick of everyone acting like ford is a dumb stupid idiot baby who was completely tricked by bill and did nothing wrong. yes he was lied to and bill was abusive, but theres so much more to everything that happened. ford was soooo incredibly willfully ignorant and pushed other important people in his life away, YES bc bill tricked him, but mostly because he wanted to be important. he was actively ignoring red flags from bill and hurting the people around him and was complicit in so much stuff bill did just because he wanted it to be true that bill picked him bc he was special. ford was the one who summoned him in the first place, but then bill just??? told him that he picked ford bc he was special which makes no sense and ford is smarter than that, but he didnt care bc wowwwww he picked me bc im so awesme and smarter and better than everyone!!! he was fucking HEAD OVER HEELLLSSS OBSESSED WITH BILL BTW THAT SHIT WAS NOT ONE SIDED!!! idk why everyone pretends it was. he was building shrines and worshiping him like a god. and never questioned him for a second????? like girl he is the most scientific, curious man in the world and he never once thought bill was lying. he let bill into his life and let him take it over sooo fucking quickly. and he didnt tell anyone bc "they would throw him in a loony bin" ?????? THATS OBVIOUSLY NOT WHY HE DIDNT TELL FIDDLEFORD. he was LYIIINNGG. They were building an interdimensional portal, fiddleford obviously wouldve believed ford and taken him seriously and kept a secret for him. he didnt tell fiddleford bc he was one of the only people in fords life who saw through his bullshit. hes nice, but he stands his ground. as soon as things got too hot, he left. and ford knew that if he told fiddleford about bill that he would immediately be like "dudddeee this is so fucking sketchy you need to research this guy theres obviously smthn else happening." if ford looked into the runes and the messages in the caves, hed probably deduce pretty damn quickly that bill was evil!! but he didnt bc hes selfish and self righteous and wanted to be a part of soemthing bigger than himself. thats literally all he ever wanted. I think the most interesting thing about TBOB is that it shows that it wasnt as black and white as it seemed and that ford wasnt the perfect victim. its shown in the show sooo much how fucked up his morals are. and im not saying this with malice, i fucking love ford and his character so much, i just think so many people act like billford was like a fucking domestic abuse situation where ford was just sad and pathetic and helpless. its so much more complicated than that. ford is not a super great guy and thats such an interesting part of his character. IDK.

[whelpimnauthuman]

Thinking of, when Clangen updates again, having it so all my Clans take place in the same area.

Gonna have 4 clans, one of each background, and they're all in the same area, and whatever happens in one game happens in all and they all effect each other. So, Tunnelclan is attacked. I roll to see which of my clan attacked them instead. Etc.

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the mortal emmrich romance path scene

dissecting the graveyard scene

mortal vs lich romance path

emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the romance scene (lich path) emmrich x rook cinematic

welcome back my dears

Emmrich Volkarin - Choosing Mortality/Resurrecting Manfred

gonna start with how MUCH I love rook defending emmrich and therefore instilling confidence in him throughout the game, however it is particualry noticeable in this segment.

more

oh yes

after being knocked on his ass from johanna skeleton construct he is visibly hurt, but this is both physical and emotional pain. I implore you once again to read The Flame Eternal for context behind Emmrich and Johanna.

emmrich's fear of death and cowardice rearing its head in the face of untold danger, until our beloved manfred makes the ultimate sacrifice, and demonstrates great courage.

oh baby, thats the stuff. Rook instilling confidence in her necromancer.

god is real and he is a hot necromancer. look at the confidence surge through him.

moving on

The scene cuts to Emmrich and Rook at the Necropolis asking to revive Manfred. Emmrich seeks out the advice from the Lich Lords of the Necropolis who inform that there are ways to return his spirit, at a cost -

alright here we go. If emmrich chooses manfreds life over accepting his death, he will no longer be able to achieve lichdom as emmrich wouldve have failed to accept death as a natural part of life. in emmrich relinquishing lichdom and choosing to revive manfred instead it delves deep into his character. for emmrich to give up lichdom would mean admitting that some things mean more to him than his fear of death - that choosing to live, that he could choose to be couragous, and face life head on, in spite of inevitable death. emmrich is a known coward, but this - choosing this path, means being resilent, being courageous, overcoming cowardice in the name of love.

it should also be noted that in the lich romance path, during the arguemnt scene, emmrich is not able to accept the inevitable death of rook. THEREFORE -

im telling you. man goes rogue, full blown, scarlet WITCH, rogue.

back to the mortal side -

this is actually tragic. if you know both romance paths for emmrich, you know that regardless of which path emmrich follows, he does not accept death when it comes to himself, his love, or manfred. he just cant. this game portrays regret wonderfully, so wonderfully i cry.

Rook's right, emmrich is much braver than he thinks. he rushes off to help rook FIGHT GODS, facing death every day considering we all know a romanced rook takes him on every mission. emmrich has also mentioned TWICE that rook inspires him, with how they have travelled so much, and how they are indomitable.

dont get me started on how confident he is in act 3. it makes me giggle.

this next line has confused a number of people so let me put my spin on it and break it down -

Death's abyss - referring to the act of dying, and emmrichs fear of death always recedes - the fear of death dissapears with someone to brave it for - inferring to rook, facing death and being brave is easier with rook in his life

these two are made for eachother. mourn watch rook in particular, the love, desire, and connection OOZES that destiny. and my heart, explodes.

This could also be interpreted as wanting to brave death's abyss for manfred, but from a romanced rook perspective, it makes more sense for it be considered as rook. and im unsure what unromanced looks like yet - so im going with that.

this line reiterates my point that the above line is referring to rook. facing alot of things would be easier if manfred was back... like idk, rooks death, maybe.

I cant tell you how much love shoots through my body knowing emmrich wants to face death and brave it for rook. which also makes the argment scene more tragic in a way, but we'll get there dear friends.

In choosing this path, Emmrich demonstrates resilence. and whilst he regrets the lose of lichdom, he knows that he has chosen the life he has always dreamed of. a life of love. a life with his eternal flame, rook. a life with their magic flinging skeleton son, manfred. an undying love that transcends. emmrich has yearned for the love he has in his life now, for a very, very long time. talking 45 odd years here. the man is terrfied, and lichdom was a way to avert his fears, but this, he is truly happy, despite his fears.

@askfordoodles reminded me of a banter dialogue that is available between Emmrich and Davrin. They discuss their sons, Assan and Manfred, and Davrin states, "What have we signed up for?", where Emmrich responds, "Love, I think." and yes, that most defintiely includes rook. emmrich, chose love. whilst it is stated that lichdom is his lifes work and dream. coming from someone who also overworks and grinds out work to get through the weight of the day without a thought of vulnerability. I understand him. When a chance of love opens its doors, its scary, a chance to be hurt. this man took that chance, to have the family he never had growing up. and never believed he would achieve. rook gave him back his heart and made him stronger for it. emmrich chose to pursue the life that his parents would've wanted for him. the thought...the dream.. that confirms his romance.

im not crying, you are. holy shit.

keep in mind this is man who grew up poor and alone. he has low self-esteem and never believed he was worthy, let alone would find the type of soul devouring love he craved. that love that you would go to the end of the earth for.

my heart is full.

He calls himself a coward on a frequent basis. but here? what growth. whilst his fear of death may never leave him, it is significantly easier with rook that loves him as deeply as he does. and manfred, a son to pass his knowledge onto.

it then ends with Emmrich stating that in regards to him giving up lichdom for manfred, he would not exchange the life he has now for anything. his now family -

"The Volkarins"

short-ish post, but the next one will be very long where I'll touch more on Emmrichs personality traits more in the argument scene as this is where his traits really shine through, see you soon ♥

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™?

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name?

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈 You're fine!! And I'm open to doing that! I'll add it to my list hehe

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

[mit0bee]

Hii! Could you write Silver and Jamil with a s/o who is touch starved? In the sense they're not opposed to affection, but aren't that used to it and get kind of startled, but crave it nonetheless? Thank you so much, have a great night!

WHY IS THIS ME???? ill def be making a pt 2 because i love this so much

Twisted Wonderland Boys with an S/O who is touch starved

Stuff you should read: touch starved s/o, a tinyyyyyyyyyyy bit self indulgent because me too anon me too, bulleted post, i didnt use actual grammar/punctuation because i am lazy, once again no beta we die like men Characters: Silver Vanrouge, Jamil Viper, Malleus Draconia, Leona Kingscholar, Sebek Zigvolt, Lilia Vanrouge

SILVER VANROUGE

Silver first found out about your touch starved-ness when he accidentally fell asleep on your shoulder

When you shrieked softly in suprise, he shot up, thinking that he might've hurt you.

When you explained to him that you were just not used to physical contact, he sighed in relief.

i kid you not he genuinely thought he somehow headbutted you

And oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh boy when he learned that you craved touch, the boy was so ecstatic (for his standards)

from then on, he was always somehow holding your hand, or had his head resting in your lap or something

(at first, he would ask you or warn you before he would touch you, just so you wouldn't be too suprised or startled, but if you were okay with it, and as you got more comfortable, he'd just go for it)

if you were okay with more romantic displays of affection, he'd nap during lunch with you in the courtyard, with you somehow in his embrace

hes such a pookie i swear (im sorry his is so short idk how to write silver *sob*

JAMIL VIPER

Jamil actually found out from a silly little walk to Sam's

he went to hold your hand, and you pulled away, surprised

he thought you were mad at him and when i tell you this man tried to think of a reason why you would be mad at him

when he couldnt think of anything, he decided to just come out and ask if he did something wrong

and then you explained it to him

like silver, he sighed in relief

but not a little sigh

a big one

like muscles relaxing and everything he genuinely thought you were mad at him.

so when you slowly brought your hand to his, lightly squeezing it, you almost killed him

my dude ASCENDED like he actually would die with no regrets

when he figures out that you actually crave touch, he isn't as ecstatic as silver, but hes fairly excited

he'd definitely enjoy showing that he loves you through small physical touches (hand holding, maybe having your arm around his, ect)

Again, like silver, he'd tell/ask you when/if he was going to hug you or something

he wouldn't ALWAYS be touching you, but he would be in private

he himself is kinda iffy on pda but he'd hold your hand or something, nothing like kissing or full on big hugs, but hand holding is a big one for him

you two probably came up with one of those cute systems where its like "two hand squeezes means ily" or something

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he found out when, on one of your nightly walks, he tried to hug you and you just...froze in the hug

he just comes straight out and asks, he doesn't want to assume you're mad at him, but he did do something wrong, he wants to apologize

"Child of Man, is everything alright? You froze."

when you explained that no, nothing is wrong and that you just were a little touch starved, he nodded thoughtfully

"Well then, would you be okay if I request a hug, instead?"

^^^ (all of these men are so polite omg)

when you say yes, he is very happy

if he had a tail, it would wag

you know those cute pictures of rlly tall people hugging their shorter friends, s/o's? thats what this becomes. he is just leaned over, hugging you

"tsunotarou....shouldn't you let go now...?"

give him a second

when he learns you crave physical touch HE IS LITERALLY SO HAPPY

i hc that one of his main love languages is physical touch, so he is VERY HAPPY that he gets to show you just how much he loves you

once again, is another who would start with telling you when he will touch you, but his telling phase ends fairly quickly compared to silver and jamil

his main forms of physical contact are those elegant ones like where he has a hand on the small of your back

he would ALWAYS BE TOUCHING YOU.

more than silver

tfym he cant come to your ancient curses class with you when he has potionology? he already knows everything he needs to know anyway, so why cant he hold your hand a little longer :(

will 9/10 times end up sleeping over at ramshackle big spooning you (the big spoon in me wants to big spoon malleus but maybeeeeeeeeeee ill save that for another post)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

he puts his head in your lap, and now youre shifting around?

come on herbivore smh smh you cant move so much hes trying to sleep!

when the thought eats a little too much at the back of his mind, he finally asks you whats up

when you explain it to him, he sighs and STAYS WITH HIS HEAD ON YOUR LAP.

but the only reason he keeps his head in your lap is because he knows his herbivore, and he knows all the signs that you're truly uncomfortable with something, so he knows that you don't mind

he breaks the cycle of asking. like i said before he knows his herbivore well, and he knows your boundaries and the signs that your uncomfortable even better, so he knows he won't overstep

i feel like he never had to figure out you craved attention, hes an observer, and just kinda always knew by your lingering touches, even after the shock of the touch

his favourite forms of physical touch are to lay his head in your lap, and basically anything (sexual or non sexual) where your body is on/close to his

hes another one whos main love language is touch, so he is too seen skipping his classes to hang out with you/to pull you from yours to the botanical garden

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

hes very aggressive with his affection, so when you shied away from his hug after training, he did a Jamil and tried to think of any reason you'd be mad at him

hes kinda sulking for the rest of the day until he decides to just come to ramshackle to ask you

"sebek wtf are you doing at my door its the middle of the night- WHY ARE YOU WET?!"

"I COULDN'T SLEEP THINKING YOU WERE MAD AT ME! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I DID, SO I CAN PROPERLY ATONE!!!!!!"

"............what.................?"

you had to run and grab a towel because this idiot decided to WALK over while it was RAINING

when you explained everything to him, how you were just surprised, he understood immediately, so, he joins the Polite Cult (tm) and asks you to give you a hug

when he finds out you crave touch, he is a man on a MISSION

he WILL make sure you get what you want becuase he LOVES YOU SO MUCH

(just dont use your power over him when hes trying to protect malleus. he will become crisis'd about what to prioritize)

he loves to hold your hand sosososososo much its such a little gesture that can mean so much

hold his hand.

LILIA VANROUGE

he went to taze you (yk when you put your hands on someones waist and just pinch/tickle them while going ZZZZZT? yeah that) and you almost died of shock

hes seen many things, when your a prehistoric artifact like him, you know whats up

so you didnt even need to explain, he just kinda knew the second you screamed

hes also like leona in the sense he just knows you arent necessarily uncomfortable or anything

but he still tries to limit the amount he scares you but COME ON....your back is faced to him! its the perfect chance to scare you!

he, again, knew you needed more physical touch, so he's always stuck to you whenever he can be

not like skipping class level like malleus and leona, but he still is with you 90% of the day

another one to come to ramshackle with you, but he wont tell the others where he is so everyone thinks peepaw went missing

get peepaw to take his meds please hes a little deranged

--------------------------- I LOVED WRITING THIS SM but i was cramping the entireee time :( m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!

[tang3r1n]

still on my shitty dabi kick and i think i struck a chord with @mostlyheinous so here’s random ass shit i think a deadbeat bf dabi would do

18+, hard dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, smoking, forced drinking/taking of drugs, dabi purposely makes you have a bad trip on acid, unprotected sex, anal (referenced plus a thumb in the stink) i’ll add more idfk

kay first off, along the smoke vein, dabi would absolutely threaten to put his cigarettes/blunts out on you if you keep crying (openly, he loves watching you cry all quiet n sniffly)

he’s also no doubt changed you around the apartment with bugs/gross shit just to make you squeal and beg him to put it away

“baby it’s jus’lil beetle~” while waving a fucking 4in long roach he found outside in your face, “gimmie a big, sloppy kiss and i might throw Jeffrey away, as much as it pains me to.”

constantly making you exchange physical/sexual acts for practically basic respect

“show me your pretty tits and i’ll let you go hang with those stupid cunts— no i’m not gonna stop callin’em that, they’re dumb cunts.”

loves making you suck him off right after work, still all musky from the day, his cock even more salty from sweating all day (scent/smell kink is my fav im SORRY.) plugging your nose and jutting his hips out harshly to make you gag and cough around his cock, the sinfully wet noise making him groan out a chuckle as he watched you cringe

any and all attempts to change his behavior end with gaslighting and fake hurt plastered on his face as he breaks your fucking back in bed

“ungh- you’re such a fucking good girl f’me.. i love your, pretty, im so sorry you feel the need to accuse me of such things- god squeeze my dick like that again, fuck yeah- i..uh- gonna make you cum so hard, show y’how this noisy cunt ‘sall mine..”

steals your panties and jacks off with them right fucking in front of you, dick swinging and balls out as he strikes himself with your panties pressed against his face. his bright ass blue eyes piercing into you while he noisily huffs in the smell of your pussy and licks up the crotch of them like the perverted degenerate he is

oh and when you try to break it off, setting him down to explain that he is just..too much.. for you, he goes ballistic.

grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the bedroom, placing you down still surprisingly softly as he ferociously tears off your clothes and starts eating you out like his life depend on it (idk to him it might, he’s a loser)

once he’s got you all whiny and soft after a few mind-shattering orgasms, he’ll start coping and trying to slip you back into the haze of his glaringly obvious manipulative love

“don’t say stupid fucking shit, pretty, jus’cuz y’on your period or what-the-fuck-ever is going on in that lil head don’t mean you can treat me like this.”

hell chastise you while he fingers you, fingers blurred as he finger-fucks you dizzy, fishing his cock outta his dirty jeans and scoffing as you whine and cry again, shuffling up the bed

he pulls you in again by your ankles, a scarred hand quickly silencing you as it softly pressed against your throat, a silent threat, as he spoke patronizing words to your sex and lust filled mind,

“just be my good angel one more time, pretty,” he forces a crack in his voice, flexing his throat so he sounds tearful and sad, “i just..i love you s’much, wanna show my pretty girl, my everything, how much she means t’me,”

the second you nod he’s grinning manically and flipping you over, forcing his cock into your wet cunt and rabidly humping against your ass, dick barely leaving and inch before pumping right back in as deep as it’d fit.

he’d spit on your other puckered lil hole, making your cry and squirm yet again as he pushes his thumb against it, gut burning with lust and a perverted sense of affection

“no- nononono angel- calm it down, i jus’wanna feel your cute ass ‘round me, promise it’ll just be my thumb— yes pretty i pinky promise

(he ends up cumming in your ass i don’t make the rules mb)

other than failed breakups and gaslighting, dabi also likes getting his pretty wasted

like… really wasted.

dabi’ll give you shit after shot, even making you sit pretty for him while he spits Jack Daniels into your awaiting mouth

he spikes literally all drinks he makes you and it’s so obvious but he just tells you it’s to ‘loosen your bitchy ass up,’ but in his own special, joking tone.

cut to you blowing cum bubbles while you suck him off, completely drunk, head dizzy and body fuzzy as he records you almost mindlessly salivating over him.

“say hi to Shigaraki f’me, pretty, little bastard is gonna love seeing you all horned up and slutty~”

he also shotguns his blunt/pipe/bong hits to you—never lets you hit in your own

dabi loves it if you sit on his lap during this too, a rare domestic scene of you both just vibing and grinding, soft praises and touches that feel unreal coming from him

the he ruins it by slapping your ass and making you cook him dinner

wait i had a funny idea hold on

“babe can we please go see my momma today— it’s just that it’s m’birthday and you made me skip it last year..”

“pretty, that bitch hates my ass, why would we go see someone who hates us?” (notice he says ‘us’ anyways)

[cut to momma glaring at dabi the entire time they’re over and throwing shoes at him once he opens his fucking mouth]

kay that’s all for now ig

wait

sometimes when you’re falling asleep you can hear him obsessively rambling and mumbling abt how much he loves you, how disgusting everyone else alive is, how he’d kill anyone who dared talk to-LOOK at you, how he thinks you’re such a soft, beautiful little thing that he just wants to protect but oh how he fucking loves ruining your angel wings.

[olive-fics]

Abby Anderson comforting you on your period *giggles and twirls hair*

VERY SMALL NSFW JOKE AT END NOT PROOF READ IM SLEEPY!

-Simple Abby headcannons and how she would comfort you on your period. Fluff

-Mention of blood ofc don't act surprised.

For the girls and the gays, Men DNI !!!!!!! (Please)

-Abby is the type of girl to come over at any given time of the day just because you texted her you feel sick from your period. "Abby,My cramps hurt so bad-” “On my way princess.” anything. JHFDJKGHNDF.

-Abby would tell you a time she’d be there and end up late, why? Because she was looking for one of her hoodies you enjoy so much and she was at the local Walgreen’s picking up your favorite snacks, drinks, tylenol (cramp relief meds), pajamas or a throw blanket for you. (Walgreens is a drugstore btw!)

-Comforting Abby would let you sit on her lap, lay on her, anything. She wanted you to be comfy.

-Abby could handle blood unlike many who find it gross. Abby thought that was ignorant and rude and she wants you to always be comfy around her. She adored you. <3

-As much as Abby always gives you her full attention, she always makes sure to give you more attention when aching like this. She knows how needy or clingy you can get, Abby would shower you with kisses, hugs, and sometimes gifts.

-Omfg I feel like Abby would give the best like back rubs or scalp massages with her muscular fingers. Abby wouldn’t stop after like 5 min either with the lame excuse of like “My hands are tired..” She would keep going until you either fell asleep or told her enough.

-Abby would carry you literally everywhere, bathroom, Bedroom, Kitchen too if you didn't already make Abby get you everything.

-Abby didn’t mind your mood swings if you even got them around her, she would take them calmly, never yell back and always let you come back when you’re ready. (Idk if that makes sense but like she’s giving u time and that’s hot LOL)

-Back to the Abby not minding the blood, If you mentioned any concern about bleeding on her or in her bed she would shush you so fast. “shh..Shh..Shhh..I don’t care My love.” or something sappy to make you giggle.

-Abby knew your attention span on your period was VERY limited so to keep you happy Abby always brought her Nintendo switch to play Mario kart. (duh.) every time you and Abby played Mario Kart it was like sports to you two. Abby normally picks Dry bones or Bowser.. But guess who also did? You. It was like a damn race alone to just see who could pick it first. Of course you both could be the same character but you liked to see the different characters plastered across the screen. In desperate times like this though? Abby would always ‘accidentally’ miss-click so you could always win and get the character you wanted, Abby just loved to see you laugh at her.

-Yk how Abby said she would do anything for you? She meant literally any type of relief to ease your pain.. even if that meant-🧛

My friend gave me this idea and it made me think..so..

Reblogs are appreciated!

I have anonymous requests in my bio! Send me SFW. requests! Head-cannons on TLOU characters or smth idk LOL.

Okay Drink water girls. <3

[withonly-sweetheart]

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all. 

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible. 

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.” 

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be. 

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings. 

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask. 

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him. 

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.” 

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart. 

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression. 

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away. 

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there. 

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. 

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin. 

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric. 

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea. 

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last." 

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance. 

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched. 

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

 The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish. 

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear. 

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.” 

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone. 

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable. 

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob. 

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

[keyotos]

book lover

summary ⎯ you rant about your book to alhaitham. he takes the time to admire you during your tangents.

tags ⎯ fluff. idk its just really cute. soft alhaitham idk what to tell you. you and alhaitham are two little book nerds that read physical books together and rant abt them. u2 are giving old happily married couple tbh.

tana's words ⎯ idk mane im in love. but BLADE trailer came out today so idk..... feeling a little bit i'm abt to commit an infidelity

you looked very conflicted as your eyes scanned the words of the book you were currently reading. to any other person, you looked rather focused. your face was pensive and your eyes were fixated on the novel you were reading.

but to alhaitham (who thinks and hopes he's the one that knows you the most), he realizes you're disconcerted by the novel you're reading. it's the way you're slightly pouting (almost frowning) your lips as you continue reading, like you're dissatisfied. your eyes aren't focused, but instead they were crinkled with confusion. what you're actually focused on is how much more ludicrous this book could get.

alhaitham picks his book back up again and continues his book, "murder on the orient express," by margaret atwood. something you recommended to him. alhaitham started it right after he finished the book he was reading previously, forgetting about the other books on his shelf.

alhaitham was nearly halfway into the novel when he turned his head to check on you again. this time, there was no doubt you looked pained. your eyes were narrowed with incredulity as you read the rest of the passage. you were biting your lip and your grip on the book was tight. you wanted to say something, alhaitham figured out.

so alhaitham puts down his book on the nightstand and stretches. he wraps his hands around your waist and moves closer to you, his head now resting on your shoulder. he reads a few passages here and there. and the way you slow down as you read does not elude him: he knows you're just waiting for him to finish his passage.

you two stay like this for a while. alhaitham's hands are wrapped around your body as his head lays comfortably on your shoulder. he presses a few kisses to your neck here and there, never failing to make you heat up. he's pulled you closer into him by now; you're on the verge of sitting on his lap in the bed. but even during this relaxing moment, you couldn't help but feel stress. it's probably because of this god-awful book you're reading.

you let out a loud sigh, slamming your book shut and not even bothering to bookmark it (you're a dog-earer; alhaitham thinks you're despicable for it). you lay it down on your nightstand before you take the time to melt into alhaitham's touch. once you've put your book down, you take a deep breath, and alhaitham swears he feels life return back into you.

alhaitham presses a quick kiss to your jaw, "are you okay?"

you faintly smile at him, "fine." and alhaitham knows what will come next. alhaitham studies you; he tries to dissect your every word and expression; and most of all, he always wants to find out more about you, despite having being with you for a long time already.

your smile disperses, now followed by a scowl, "i lied. i'm not fine," you rubbed your eyes with your hands as alhaitham listened to you, "can your brain hurt after reading something so terrible? my brain feels like it aged fifty years and i'm not even finished with this god-awful book. nothing in here makes sense, the plot is rudimentary at most, and the characters are making me want to rip my hair out," you ranted, your hands going to massage your temples because of how angry you were getting.

"and it's not just that too," you continued. alhaitham's eyes were on you; listening to every word, watching your eyes, and your lips. he wanted to kiss you into peace, but he also loved hearing your tirades. the way your voice became so passionate and wild made him feel things that he thought he wouldn't have felt before.

"the plot barely makes any sense. like, you're telling me grown people act like this? these people are two decades older than us, haitham," he feels himself melt at the sound of his name, nodding along to your tangent so you know he's listening, "but they act like teenagers! like... don't you have jobs? lives?" you pick up the covers that enshroud your body and proceed to let out the loudest groan into them.

you pulled down the covers, letting out a deep sigh. "sorry, i had to get that out," you turned to look at alhaitham, only to see him staring right back at you.

"i guess you're not recommending that one," alhaitham joked, removing his hands from your waist and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing you against him. he presses a kiss to your temple as he feels you breath slowly.

"definitely not," you shook your head, now leaning onto alhaitham's shoulder, "the thing was, my friend recommended that to me. so, i don't know if they hate me or not, because there's no way they'd genuinely think this book was good."

alhaitham hummed, "maybe they were trying to gauge your reaction," alhaitham's hand slipped under your shirt and started tracing shapes on your bare collarbone, "like you did to me that one time," alhaitham adds, tone lifting with mock-exasperation.

you laugh, and alhaitham thinks the sound is absolutely heavenly. sometimes, especially during long nights in the akademiya, he dreams of your laughter and your smile. the sound is so melodic that any other laugh became incomparable and unrivaled by yours.

"okay, that was pretty funny though," you poked his cheek, grinning, "i almost spit out my drink when you got to that one sex scene. i thought you'd never take any recommendations from me ever again," you joyfully reminisced, letting yourself sink into alhaitham's warmth.

"'how fast you go. you arrive at a conclusion much sooner than i would permit myself to do,'” alhaitham quotes. his hands travel farther down your shirt as he allows himself to kiss your neck.

you ignore his actions, turning to him suddenly, "you're reading murder on orient express?" your eyes widen.

alhaitham's expression remains neutral, still kissing your body, "of course. i read everything you recommend me." he didn't expect you to be so shocked. he regards your opinion with high value.

your eyes still remain wide, not moving away from his face as alhaitham mindlessly rubs his hands up and down your torso, "even the bad ones?"

alhaitham chuckles, "even the bad ones. but, if it makes you feel better, you haven't recommended me any terrible books yet. at least, not as terrible as the one you're reading currently."

you sigh, looking at the disgraced book on the nightstand, "yeah... i don't think books can get worse than that one," you turn back to run your hand through alhaitham's hair, sorting out a few strands here and there. alhaitham quietly hums as you do so, sounding pleasantly satisfied.

"why are you reading murder on the orient express so soon? thought you had that other book to read about," you quietly asked.

"because i love you. and i want to experience what you experienced," alhaitham says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. i love you. i want to experience things with you. it makes your heart flutter infinitely through the stars. you've read countless romance novels through your years, yet no author would be able to word love as well as alhaitham did.

you smile wide, and alhaitham thinks if he was a dying man, seeing your smile would allow him to survive for decades. too flustered to say anything, you tuck yourself into the nape of his neck, hiding from his prying eyes.

you know alhaitham. you are aware that he knows you just as well as you know him. you know that, with one glance, alhaitham is probably able to determine every single thought you're thinking. with one word from your mouth, alhaitham understands you immediately, no need to elaborate. it's long lasting, the mutual understanding the both of you have.

yeah, alhaitham can read you like a book. he takes great satisfaction in doing so, as well.

you grab his chin and tilt his head down to meet yours, giving him a chaste kiss on his lips. you grin once again (a sight alhaitham will never get sick of) and turn off the lamp next to your bed. you whisper, "good night," in his ear and cover yourself with the sheets as you drift off into sleep, content with this night despite the horrible book.

alhaitham softly smiles, even chuckles a little bit about how fast you went to bed. he traces your jawline with his thumb before turning off his light and pulling you closer into him.

alhaitham usually does not reread books. but, if you were a book, he'd think he would reread you over and over again, because every time he finds something new to love about you, there is always more. you reel him in more than any hook. you interest him more than any other topic. you grab his attention more than any other story.

maybe he's over exaggerating. but that's no big deal for now. for now, alhaitham will just enjoy you and your presence. and he will reread you the next time he has a chance.

umm idk if that ending made sense but it's like 4am rn and idrc. alhaitham is prob ooc in this but whateva bc i like my men to be nice bc I CAN CHANGE THEM!! anyway srry if this don't make sense its 4am rn

[icallhimjoey]

More!!! More!!!! More bookstore!joe! MORE!!!!!!!!!! we've seen his erratic behaviour when he visits the store after not having been able to come in for a while, but what about the visit before he knows he's not going to be able to come in for a while?

omg im so here for the bookstore!joe requests, but the "i already miss you even though youre still here" somehow turned into whatever this is... idk why i went where i went, my apologies, and tw for vomit Wordcount: 3K

---

Lost Moments To Keep

You hadn't stopped staring at Joe with the biggest eyes. You seemed confused and weirdly mesmerised. Your eyes tunneled a little, vision darker around the edges.

"That's Joe." Anne just said, and then your eyes moved to give her the same wild look.

"And I'm Anne. We like me, a lot. We don't like Joe. You've got temporary loss of normal brain function, look, Google says." Anne held her phone to your face, too close for anything to register.

"You're not helping, Anne." Joe scolded through clenched teeth.

"Wha–"

Joe was on the phone to someone, and... you knew who that was. You knew who that was. What the fuck. What was Joe Quinn doing in your bookstore?

And why were you on the floor, exactly? Your left elbow hurt, but the back of your head much worse.

"Yea, she's awake. She hasn't lost consciousness at all." Joe said to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Confused, though. Brain's all scrambled."

"Do you feel dizzy? Google says you might feel dizzy."

"I... what day is it?"

"Oh my God, she's asking what day it is." Anne said, turning to Joe like she was blaming him for what you'd asked. In Anne's terms, she was panicking. Anyone who didn't know her, though, would think she was being exceptionally calm given she'd just witnessed her boss lift a box of books that tipped her over backwards.

Your head hurt.

And you did feel dizzy. And nauseous too, a little.

It made sense that you had fallen, but it was strange to not remember and to have two strangers fret over you in your own business.

Your eyes darted from the worried face of famous actor Joe Quinn who was stood by your feet, to the wildly uninterested face of a younger girl who sat next to you with her legs crossed as she scrolled on her phone.

"Any vision disturbance? Are you more sensitive to light than you'd usually be, do you think?" Anne asked, seemingly going down a list she'd found online.

"Okay, thanks. We'll make sure she doesn't move until you get here." Joe looked at you as he said goodbye and hung up. That looked like your phone.

"Her mum's on her way."

Why was he using your phone?

"Any mental fogginess?" Anne continued, ignoring Joe and additionally ignoring you, entirely unfussed that you weren't answering any of her questions.

"Hey," Joe softly said, catching your attention as he stepped closer and leant an elbow on the counter as he bent down a little. He smiled warmly at you when he asked, "How are you feeling?"

Joe Quinn.

Joseph Quinn.

What was he doing in your bookstore?

And who the fuck was Anne?

Your eyes moved from one to the other until you saw black spots and the pain behind your eyes grew. Your ears were ringing when you softly said, "I'm... I'm gonna throw up."

Joe almost hadn't gone in today. He almost hadn't, because he didn't really have any time to waste. But, Jesus, he was glad he was there.

God, imagine if he hadn't been.

When Joe had woken up that morning, he thought he was likely going actually insane. He was flying out for work the next day, and instead of preparing, of packing, of seeing family and friends before he'd be off for a while - instead of all that, he showed up on the bookstore's doorstep at 10 am sharp. Right when Anne unlocked and opened the door. Just because that was where he wanted to be. He kind of already missed the store, even though he was right there.

Anticipatory nostalgia; Joe could feel it in his bones.

Instead of stepping aside and letting him in, she gave him a deadpan tired stare and waited for him to take the A-frame from her hands to put outside on the pavement.

Joe happily helped out. Said, "Good morning, sunshine!" all chipper and laughed when Anne looked like she had to try really hard not to vomit.

He'd called a good morning into the store, got a faint "Morning!" in reply from the backroom where you were making yourself a coffee, and found his ledge... empty.

Anne saw him look at the spot where he usually left the books that he was reading. You'd granted him that small little surface area of the store so you wouldn't have to keep putting his books back on the shelves, and so Joe wouldn't have to go looking for those same books again the next time he'd come in. A win win little ledge of excuses for Joe to return to your store. A real privilege, Joe thought.

Except he'd left books there.

He knew he did.

Where had they gone?

"I tidied." Anne said unsentimentally and challengingly looked at Joe over her mug as she took a sip of hot coffee.

She loved being a little shit and inconveniencing Joe wherever and whenever she could. Tidying the store was part of her job, and Joe knew if he was to complain, she'd have the upper hand, because what was he even really doing? The store wasn't a library, no matter how much he had starting treating it like one.

So instead, Joe used her inconvenient power move as an excuse to take his time to browse the whole store and took care to be in the exact wrong spot at the exact wrong time.

You secretly smiled every time you heard Anne sigh with frustration and heard her mutter, "Move!" under her breath before using a shoulder to push him aside. Every single time, Joe pretended he was totally oblivious. Would go, "Oh! Sorry! Was I in the way?" all innocently, but you could see how his mouth was fighting to keep his own smile hidden.

It took maybe forty minutes for Joe to have built up a little stack of books on the small sidetable next to your granddad's armchair in the window, and then Joe sat and read undisturbed for an hour and a half.

You loved it when Joe was in.

Just sat there.

Reading.

Absolutely engrossed in his own little world.

The faint feeling of envy was always overshadowed by the joy of being allowed to unashamedly stare at him from the counter, leant on both elbows.

You'd brought him a coffee after those 90 minutes of silent reading, and he'd given you a quick wink and a smile as a thank you.

Customers filtered in and out, and you went from moments of it just being Joe in the store to having eight people needing your attention simultaneously. It was both busy and not, and the switches in energy had left you in a weird spot mentally.

You hadn't realised you'd fully skipped lunch.

You'd seen Joe dart out for some pastries, and you'd ordered Anne to get her ass into the back to go and eat something, but you never followed up on your "I'll take my lunch after."

It was why, in a moment of quiet, you'd picked up a box of books from behind the counter that had sort of been in the way the whole morning, you been unsuccessfull.

Maybe you'd gotten up too fast.

Or maybe the box was just too heavy.

The entire thing had taken you down quicker than you'd been able to get it off the floor. It didn't help that the box was open. The reflex of your body became about making sure none of the books would tip out and hit you in the face, when the reflex should've been about cushioning your fall.

You shot no arms out.

You didn't drop the box.

You just... fell.

The weight of the box pushed the air straight from your lungs and left you gasping.

The back of your head had hit the wooden floorboards so hard, you immediately saw stars.

After impact, for a short moment, it was pin-drop silent. Anne froze, pausing for a moment, listening. She was waiting for you to go "I'm all right!", but that never came.

Joe was ripped from his book at the sound of the fall, but was confused. One moment you'd been there, and then now, you were gone.

When a soft wincing gasp was heard from where you were hidden form his view, he was on his feet in an instant, rounding the counter and finding you there on the floor, box of books heavy on your stomach, eyes completely glazed over as you rapidly blinked up at the ceiling in an attempt to erase the fuzzy bits in your vision.

"Oh my G– Anne!" Joe was quick to remove the box and the books that were tumbling out. "Breathe. Careful, don't move, just focus on breathing." Joe advised as he watched you struggle.

"What dropped?" Anne asked, getting closer now and trying to find the source of the whack.

"She did."

"I know she did, but what was that–"

"That was her." Joe tried to make eye-contact. "Hey, just breathe, all right? Are you hurt?"

The eye-contact failed, as did answering Joe's question.

You hadn't even properly heard him it felt like.

Anne and Joe shared a look, for a moment both unsure of what to do. Who was going to take the lead on this? Joe didn't work there, but Anne was a literal teenager.

Before they could even think of discussing a game plan, you incoherently asked through a constricted panicked voice if anyone had thought of the fire escape. They both turned to look at you, both faces frowning in confusion.

"Huh?"

"What was that?"

Joe and Anne spoke at the same time.

"I think I forgot. Are the bugs gone?" you winced as you moved a hand to where your head hurt, and Joe was quick in deciding he was going to have to be the one to call the shots on this. He'd clearly chosen to spend all day at the bookstore for a reason, so it seemed.

It took a little while for you to return to normal.

You babbled through some more disjointed chat whilst Joe carefully checked with his fingers if your head was bleeding. It wasn't, which was good. But you did wince in pain as he slowly felt around in your hair before you tried to sit up and take your shoes off.

Anne had to fight you back down onto the floor and sternly told you to relax whilst Joe slid his folded jacket underneath your head.

When your consciousness returned into the room, you were met by a girl sat by your side who was scrolling through concussion symptoms, and a guy stood up by your feet, talking to someone on the phone.

"What's going on?" You'd asked, and Anne had just casually said, "You fell."

Joe'd called your mum on your phone. Anne knew the code. Joe told himself he'd give her a stern talk about normal-people things like privacy later. Priorities lied elsewhere right now.

And then you'd thrown up into the box of books that had taken you down earlier.

Served it right, Joe thought.

Joe'd held your hair through it, and kept brushing back little pieces that kept falling into your face. His touches were so tender and gentle but they still hurt, and you were absolutely mortified. So fucking embarrassed. There was a fucking celebrity in the store and you were vomming into a box of books that, halfway through, got swapped for an empty bucket.

It smelled awful, and it probably was the most unattractive thing in the world.

You felt like the most unattractive thing in the world.

"Sorry you had to see that." you croaked when Anne handed you a glass of water to rinse your mouth.

"We think you're concussed."

Somehow, that made perfect sense.

"You took quite the tumble. The back of your head must be hurting."

You moved to sit with your back against a cupboard door, careful to not lean your head back too far, and Joe decided to stay put next to you. Keep an eye on you. Hold your hair back in case you weren't quite done throwing up yet.

Meanwhile, Anne had moved into the backroom and did her best in trying to save whatever books she could from where you'd thrown up over them.

"Do you have any pain anywhere else?"

You paused a second to focus on the feelings inside of your body, and then moved an arm to touch the opposite elbow.

"Your elbow? Are you bleeding?" Joe used a soft hand to move your arm so he could have a look. "Does it hurt a lot?" No broken skin. Joe hoped that maybe the blow he'd heard had been your elbow, and not your actual skull.

"Stop asking her a million questions!" Anne shouted from the back, like she hadn't been doing the exact same thing before.

"You'd tell me if you weren't okay, wouldn't you?" Joe's voice remained soft and warm for you. All kind and gentle.

For a moment, you just looked at him.

"Hi," he smiled, and he saw how you were trying to puzzle the situation together. "I'm Joe."

"I know who you are."

"Oh, that's great!" Joe exclaimed.

"Were you... did you happen to just be in here to buy books, or..."

Oh.

Not so great.

You knew who he was, but you didn't know who he was.

"Um, no, not really. I actually come in here a lot. I um... you let me hog one of the armchairs where I read books."

"You do?"

"Yea, it's awfully rude of me." Joe smiled. "But I'm lucky. You're very cool about it."

Joe could feel his chest swell at the faintest hint of a smile coming from you.

"He's your boyfriend." Anne bluntly interrupted as she stepped back into the storefront, and before you could even begin to process that wild bit of information, she added, "But not really. The two of you are... you're really weird about it."

It sounded like a weird joke, and you looked between the both of them to figure out what the punchline was, because you didn't get it.

Joe just smiled when you looked at him.

"She hates it."

"I do." Anne confirmed, walking across the store to move the sign on the door to 'closed'. Your mum was going to come by and pick you up to get your head checked and there was no way Anne wasn't going to go with.

Joe craned his head to watch Anne as she went to fetch the A-frame out front and then leant close and whispered, "We kind of like that she hates it."

That made you smile into your lap.

"Have you um..." you started, suddenly frowning. "Do you have a plaster for me?"

Joe's concern immediately grew again. He wasn't quite back where he was twenty minutes ago, when you'd laid right where he was sitting now, unable to catch your breath properly, but his eyes bulged like he was just as worried anyway.

"Why? Are you bleeding? Where?"

"I've not finished my homework."

"You've not..." Joe tried to make sense of something nonsensical before he realised he'd lost you again.

Joe wondered if he could let someone know he wasn't going to be able to leave the city tomorrow. Let alone the fucking country. The prospect of leaving you like this for a few weeks and having to actually do a job seemed impossible.

How was he not going to be thinking about you all the time?

To be fair, his life was already like that, a little.

But especially now; after all this, no one could expect him to not constantly worry if you were all right, could they?

"I don't think I've got any plasters for you, sorry."

"Oh," you seemed disappointed, but only for a second. "You bought Blindness from me."

There you were. Back again. God, he really did already miss you, even though you were right there.

"I did."

"You hadn't... you'd not read it, but you'd seen the film."

"I had."

"I remember."

"Read it in one day."

You'd likely be fine.

People got concussions all the time, didn't they?

"Sorry, I'm all over the place."

"You're not actually," Joe smiled. "You're right here."

Joe was going to leave the country tomorrow, and you'd stay with your mum until you'd be one hundred per cent again. You would keep the store closed, so there was no use in him hanging around anyway. And then, when you'd be all better, he'd pop back in on a random Tuesday morning without any warning, and then he could tell you all about today. You'd likely not remember a thing of it, all of it a lost moment to you, but one that he'd get to keep. Get to cherish. Get to share with you later.

"My head hurts..." you suddenly said like you'd only just realised it.

"Yea, you fell." Joe could go through this loop again, he didn't mind.

"I did?"

"Hmm, we think you're concussed. Your mum is coming to pick you up, have you checked out by a doctor to double check and make sure you're okay."

"We?"

Joe saw how you went to reach for the back of your head again, but before your fingers could disappear into your hair, the bell above the door chimed and Anne said, "No sign of her yet."

"That's Anne." Joe calmly explained, and then reached to grab hold of your hand, protecting you from touching your painful bits again. He'd make sure to hold it until your mum arrived.

Joe saw your eyes grow wide as you recognised him again, and smiled.

"And I'm Joe."

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[orange-artist]

Hi :) idk when your kny au begins exactly but i took the liberty of it and went 'what if it was before the first test but like After the training arc' and got a really cool image in my head and now im sharing this ↓

When Tanjiro comes to himself for the first time, he instantly known several things:

One — there are familiar people near him. First is his sister, scent as always sharp and spicy, even before the whole whatever that had happened to them, and after that more so; but the second one- he is not sure. It's familiar, in a way damp moss near rivers is, the way rocks smell of algae and water and fish after laying low on the bottom for so long, and also in a way that he knew someone like that. It doesn't matter much, though, because they both are familiar. They both are safe.

Two — there is a tang of sickness in the air, a strong one, the one that kills if you're not careful with recovery. It almost smells of blood, of rot and death, but still not quite. It's waffling off of him, like a cloud of miasma, which makes no sense as he had been quite healthy when he went to bed at night, at least in that regard. The illness is old, festering for days and oozing from his skin, and it's so strange it almost makes him miss-

Tanjiro sits bolt upright, almost knocking out whoever had the misfortune to look after him in this sorry state.

Because the third, the final thing he knows is this:

There is a smell of demons nearby.

He is delirious with fever, headache strong enough to cause whatever he's knocked in to actually hurt, and doesn't really understand what's going on, but there is one thing he knows as sure as the fact that the sun rises in the east — Muzan is dead. There are no demons anymore, there are no cursed blood and no curses to speak of, because Muzan is dead. He's dead and they had won the war of thousands, of over hundreds years, and he's dead he's dead he's dead.

So why does it stinks of demons?

The smell is so profound, so close it almost makes him sick, or rather sicker than before. It's coming from direction of his sister, and he's already clawing there like nothing in his life matters anymore, like it never did, because why does it come from there, he won't survive it a third time, please, no no nononono-

There are hands pressing on his body, on his head. They're alive, and cold, and human. They smell of damp moss and wet rocks on the riverbank. They move like water in the stream. They're safe. They're safe.

"Sleep." The safe voice says, familiar and distant.

The safe hand covers his eyes, and Tanjiro knows no more.

OOOOOH thats really fun and cool! I love the way you focus and describe the scents. I had ended up deciding the squad wakes up right before/during the final selection but this is really sick!

Honestly, I’m not too pressed about how my AU is interpreted or sicking to the ‘canon’ of it so have at it! Like with all my AUs, I would love it if people would like to play in this space ^-^

[hyuckilstan]

Make it up to you -P.Sh

Pairing!— Seonghwa x afab!reader

Genre!— Angst, smut, fluff if you squint?

warnings!— cunnilingus, protected sex, a whole lot of apologizing and petnames, make-up sex but its soft, possessiveness more like over protectiveness, kinda toxic ngl.

Summary!— Your boyfriend wants to make sure you know how sorry he feels, and how could you reject him when he was being so genuine.

Wc!— 2.1+k words

a/n!— oka I’m back lol and I thought why not make my comeback with a hwa fic (also there might be some typos idk 💀)

☽·Masterlist·☾

Right now, You’re fucking done with everything.

You’re done with Seonghwa, your boyfriend, you’re done with yourself, heck you feel like you’re done with the relationship.

“I can fucking take care of myself Hwa!” you shout back, feeling frustrated, you know Seonghwa loves you, so much so that he loves to pamper you, sometimes too much that it feels like he thinks of you as a mere child he wants to protect.

Just like tonight, you had peacefully told him that you would be fine if he left you alone at the bar while he goes to chat with his friends, since they were celebrating Hongjoong’s big day as a producer after all, although you’re pretty sure you've ruined the night for him.

Seonghwa just couldn’t resist when he saw some guy hitting on you and even swung his fist at him, resulting in you both standing outside after getting kicked out, arguing.

When you told him once again that he shouldn't have been so protective he blurted out something along the lines that you said that cause you do love the attention, or something like that.

You don’t really remember.

You don’t want to remember.

“We’ve been over this Y/N, I do this because I care for you,” he still refused to admit that what he had said and done were wrong, maybe you were dramatic about him being protective, but what he had said after hurt you more than you wish it did.

“Am I like a goddamn child to you?! I am an independent person Hwa, I can make my own choices and protect myself too, I don’t need to be dependent on someone to do that for me!” You think you’re screaming, you’re not sure, your ears are still ringing because of the loud music, and you feel like your senses are numb and your tears won't stop falling.

Seonghwa hates seeing you like this, more so that he is making you feel like this, but he just wants you to understand that he does it all because he loves you, without a second thought, he says some words he immediately regrets.

“So you call allowing that fucking man to throw himself at you independent? Maybe you are a fucking child Y/N.”

You think you can hear your heart shatter into a million pieces, you don’t respond, mainly cause you are physically unable to, you just want to scream and cry, and you do.

“Stop. I- I’m heading home, and don’t you dare follow me,” you sob and Seonghwa stands stunned when he realizes what he has said and done.

You can hear him calling your name but you choose not to, still sobbing and tears flowing like a river, you open the door to Wooyoung’s car, who had told you before you and Seonghwa left that he could drive you home, almost as if he knew that you would want some distance from your boyfriend.

Wooyoung doesn’t question you, instead he drives to your home, he does tell you that it will be okay every now and then. You wonder if your relationship with Seonghwa is in a critical position, you wonder if you would ever make up.

You do know the amswer to whose questions when you do reach your home and Wooyoung gives you a tight hug, “Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll work things out, Seonghwa loves you nd you love him, arguments happen once in a while, I just know that you guys are made for each other,” he says and you nod, wiping your tears, bidding him goodbye as well as thanking him.

Once you enter your home, you feel like the place is colder, is it because of the feeling of dread you have for when Seonghwa will return home or just because of the weather? Either way, you decide to wash up and immediately head to bed.

--------------༊·˚

Its currently a little past 1 in the morning and it seems like you have cried yourself to sleep, but your ringtone wakes you up, you decide to bot pick up seeing that it was Hwa, but when he keeps on calling you finally pick up.

You don’t say anything, but you can clearly hear Seonghwa sniffing on the other side of the phone, “Y/N... Please, let me in, I’m so sorry, please, ” his pleads are pathetic and Seonghwa knows it.

You hang up without saying a word but you do get up to open the door, after mentally preparing yourself to face him of course

When you open the door, you see Seonghwa, possibly in the most hopeful yet miserable state you’ve seen. He looks stoked to see you, he starts crying, and you are about to start crying too.

He lets himself in, locking the door behind him, “Hwa-” before you can say more, Seonghwa’s soft lips are pressed against yours harshly, you both need this.

He effortlessly hoists you up so that your legs are wrapped around his hips, he doesn’t stop kissing you, instead he makes the kiss deeper, more intimate but you don’t complain.

He somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom and he gently lays you down on the bed, he pulls himself away and you almost whimper, “I’m sorry baby, are you okay with this?” he asks, his voice is full of hurt and regret, you can feel it, because that is also the same case for you when you speak out.

You cannot exaggerate how good he looks right now, his soft skin illuminated by the moonlight and his eyes that are glistening as they look up at yours.

“Hwa don’t stop, please,” you plead and he nods diving back in the kiss, his hands are all over your body now, your body is burning up, he feels so fucking good against you.

His lips leave yours but they start trailing down your neck, sucking and nibbling it, “Is this okay?” he asks for your assurance when his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your shorts, you nod, tugging at the hem of his shirt, Seonghwa nods as well, taking off his shirt in one swift movement and now you’re staring at him, observing his every next movements.

He slowly pulls your shorts down along with your underwear, your breath hitches when you feel his hot breath against your now wet core, “You don’t have to...” you say quietly but Seonghwa shakes his head in disagreement

“No baby, let me make it up to you, please?” he asks innocently, and who were you to say no to him, when you give him the green light he wastes no time in taking you in his mouth

He wets your already wet folds and starts flicking his tongue at your clit, “Fuck!” you groan, Seonghwa was always skilled with his tongue and that makes you feel intoxicated, he always looks so pretty between your legs.

Your fingers rake his hair, tugging his hair slightly to pull him closer, Seonghwa doesn’t complain, rather he loves it when yiu chase for your pleasure.

Your moans bounce off the walls of the bedroom as your boyfriend alternates between giving kitten licks to your cunt and flicking your clit with his tongue, Seonghwa softly moans when you tug his hair harsher, he was growing rock hard at this point.

He sucks at your clit making you gasp, “I’m so sorry baby, I love you I love you I love you,” he says between his sucks and licks, he continues repeating the words “I love you” and “I’m sorry” every now and then, and before you know it, tears are staring to fall again, this time not only because of hurt, but also because of pleasure.

He fucks his tongue into your wet hole while his nose brushes against your clit and Seonghwa feels contented when he hears your moans getting louder, but he wants to hear more from you.

So he wets his fingers in his mouth, fucking two digits into you, you moan out loudly when he starts curling them, the pleasure was starting to get really intense.

“That’s it baby, take it all for me, just want you to feel good,” he says and resumes on fucking you with his fingers and sucking your clit, “Hwa, I think- I’m going to cum soon-” you inform him and he hums, fucking his fingers into you even faster.

Curses leave your mouth as you buck your hips while the pleasure Seonghwa was delivering to you remained constant; you feel your climax arriving dangerously close and before you could warn him, you had came all over your boyfriend’s face.

You gasp at the sight of seonghwa’s face smeared with arousal, feeling more aroused when he licks it all up, “Fuck baby that was so hot,” he chuckles, he gets up to take off his clothes that were still on and crawling back up to the bed, staring right at you.

He gently cups your face, it feels nice and warm, “I feel so fucking stupid baby, will you forgive me?” he asks and you stare at him for a little longer before you hum, he’s still hesitant so you decide to speak up, “Hwa, I just want you to fuck the pain away,” you tell him and it causes his cock to twitch.

“Shit baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growls and Seonghwa, being the best boyfriend he (almost) always is obliges, he quickly grabs a condom from your nightstand and rolling it down along his erect length, he then aligns his dick to your hole after wetting it with your arousal.

He easily slides himself in, and you both moan in unison, you frantically reach out your arms to pull him closer, noticing this, Seonghwa starts kissing you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

He starts to slowly rock his hips towards yours, fucking in and out of you deliciously, “Yes, right there Hwa,” you moan when his length hits just the right spot, Seonghwa hums and continuously abuses that spot.

He swallows your moans as your tongues danced together, his hands are back to cupping your face and right now, you feel so loved, Seonghwa was making love to you.

“You feel so tight,” he groans, fucking even deeper into you, his lips are now against your neck again, this time peppering it softly, while you moan out without a single care, all your frustration leaving as pleasure arrives.

Your second climax is arriving and you need more, “Hwa, please- harder,” you ask, Seonghwa responds obediently to your request, he was now slamming his length into you at a fast pace, to which he loudly curses.

You reach your hands down to your clit, gently rubbing then, Seonghwa smirks amused, “That’s it baby, rub that clit while I fuck you so good,” he pants and you nod frantically.

When Seonghwa notices that your moans are getting more choked and louder he speaks up again, “You’re gonna cum for me again my love?” You nod and his groans follows your response, “Me too love- fuck- let’s cum together.”

You cannot form words, or at least coherent ones, you just take the pleasure you’re receiving, you can also tell that Seonghwa is close to the edge when you feel him twitch inside of you.

He places his hands at your hips tightly and pulls your hips and fucking into you, your choked out moans, the sound of skin on skin and his pants are the only thing you can now hear.

“Shit I’m cumming” he says and you do too as he continues to fuck into you while he empties his load in the rubber, once you both reach your climax, he rests his forehead against yours, you’re both breathing heavily at this point.

He lays himself next to you, softly kissing you, he brushes a portion of your hair behind your ear and sighs, “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I promise to never do or say those things again,” he apologizes again for you don’t even remember how many times but could feel how genuine Seonghwa was being.

You smile softly at him, which further reassured him that you have indeed forgiven him, “It’s okay Hwa,” you snuggle onto him, “Arguments can break out often, we can only do so much as grow from them,” you tell him.

Seonghwa cannot describe how happy he feels as well as how proud, he does realize now that you are a grown up who is capable of handling themselves and that he had been pampering and babying you too much.

“I love you so much,” he says pulling you in tighter against his chest, “I love you too,” you reply with a faint smile.

Wooyoung was right, you would’ve come up with a solution one way or the other, as weird as this may be, you managed to work things out.

You were made for each other.

©hyuckilstan. All Rights Reserved.

Taglist!— @yeo-hehet, @hwanchaesong, @enivivs, @alphadisaster, @zen626, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @amangooo, @riboism (feel free to inform me if I had forgotten to add you or you wanted to be added in the taglist!)