#it just hurts bc the foundation of this show is so good but the walls are so shaky 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celestie0 · 8 months ago

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BABE. AGAIN. UR REBLOGS ALWAYS HAVE ME CRYING IN THE CLUB (see youve fucked me up so bad im referencing hella old catchphrases) honestly imma kiss u thru the screen one of these days

same i craved kbbq so bad when i was writing it. i think ripped jeans are still trendy just maybe not DIY ripped jeans bahha. and yes hana is a mood im exactly like that when im drunk

“oh and he’s a creep, he reminds of that one very annoying guy every girl has in her class, who tries to one-up and simultaneously tries to get on with that very ambitious girl only to prove to her that he’s better and not in a good “rivals to lovers” way, no, they gotta be all “i am doing this for your own good”, but they’re at the end of the day they are just bootlicking bigots who’ve failed miserably in their lives.”

omg okay yes exactly 😭🤣 i love the hatred for kai right off the bat PLS u literally named the thesis of his character right here. i have not seen insidious but i take ur word for it 😭 and yes bb pls break tf outta his camera.

thanks my love haha yea obv i had to get into his headspace a bit to write for him and i was like damn🧍🏻‍♀️there r ppl that actually live this miserably? jfc

and yea ur so right,, tbh doubt and fears are so valid, if kai came from a better angle then perhaps he couldve actually provided valuable insights for her. but in my own career pursuit i know that doubt is the foundation for faith, and it’s healthy because it tests your resolve, whether that resolve is to continue to march forward or possibly pivot. but kai’s approach is simply seeding doubt to create insecurities to feel higher than another person, and that does not come from a place of care or understanding at all

OMG BB I THINK YOU’re THE FIRST READER TO REALIZE COACH YAGA’s POMERANIAN IS PANDA 😭😭💕💕

pls i wanna be princess carried by gojo so bad. and bahahah not the lawyer AND the therapist 😩 my dear im just like reader, i got them bills to pay plsss i cannot afford counsel to represent me for emotional damages

yesss tbh even i began developing a massive crush on reader while i was writing her in this chapter lol gojo suddenly became an afterthought 🤣🤣

“like i am gathering he probably developed this through keeping calm during the trauma and the tension that had him enveloped with the injury, illness and the death of his father.”

yess bb i think u hit it on the mark, and i think this is reflective of canon gojo too who has bottled up many feelings. my fave character trait of canon gojo is his ability to go from cheeky to serious at the drop of the hat (not only is it insanely hot, but also i think very charming and in my experience the true mark of a man LOL) so that’s the vibe i’m really trying to capture w kickoff gojo if all else isn’t canonically accurate i at least hope that is 🤣 but yea, he’s been forced to trauma that has kind of made him super good at compartmentalizing, almost too good, to where even extremely strong feelings of his can come off as passive. i tried to show that in his body language vs words when reader is done cussing him out for having it “easy in life” :””) ur so emotionslly intelligent my love and ur empathy is enouhh to make me tear up 😭 ppl in ur life must feel so safe w you

“my baby is making a mistake and these are not even her words, though she’s wrong to be voicing them.”

yesss she’s rly been driven up a fkn wall this whole chapter i felt so bad writing it all :””) esp this scene bc its like…she rejected kai’s advances, and yet somehow he was still rly able to get into her head and as a result, she spoke out of line in an effort to hurt gojo who i dont rly think deserved that 🥲😭

“HE JUST CALMED HIMSELF DOWN FOR HER SO FAST, HES THE ENTIRETY OF THE GREENLAND ON THIS EARTH. i will die for him.”

AAAAAA omg i hate to toot my own male mc’s horn LMFAO but yea i really liked that part bc he couldve gone off on her or made her feel bad/guilty but i think he just wants her to feel better ab everything :”) also yea i dont think he was angry per se, i was hesitant ab using “clenched fists” in the sentence bc i didnt want it to come off as he was pissed at her, but it was definitely hurt & anxiety

“i’m reaching my yappacity.”

PLSKSJDJD IM ADDING THIS TO MY VOCABULARY

“if virtual hugs are possible, im hugging the reader right now. the fear of disappointment is so real. i’ve had to take multiple breaks reading this chapter. i loveeee it, so well written. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️”

thank sm bb for reading w stuffs going on ik this chap hits heavy, tbh if i read something like this when i was reaaally in my “holy fuck im struggling w my life n career rn” phase i would NOT have been able to handle it bahhaha. but also i think there are parts that may have been comforting too. i appreciate u sm for providing all ur insights 🥺💕

“no because im imagining he’s saying those words to me and comforting me. thank you very much.”

this was the goooooal aaaaa i wanted it to feel like a hug thru the screen 😭🥲💕

“ELLIE!!!! WHY WERE YOU WORRIED???? THE TENSION, THE FRUSTRATION, CAREER AND GOJO RELATED BOTH, THE ASSHOLES AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN WAS SO PERFECTLY WORDED! I LOVED ALL OF IT!”

IM GONNA CRYYY IK IDK WHY I WAS SO WORRIED THE RESPONSE HAS BEEN SO SWEET N LOVELY I JUST IDK i think cuz it was all so vulnerable but im just. so. 😭😭😭 tysmm i rly cant say how much it means that u read the chap (while u were dying w no sleep 💀) and interacted w it sm :””) ur such a sweetie pie n i will literally be sending u my good vibes for my LIFEE PLSS <33 LOVE U M00tie

“ps: is mina the tribute to your best friend? i’m believing yes. also i loved, loved the author’s note, one of the sweetest thing ever that one has left at the bottom of their works.”

GIRL HOW DO U CATCH FUCKING EVERYTHING 😭😭😭 YES I CHOSE a name that started w m for mina to rep my friend :””) ughhhhh ur just too muhc n the fact u were ab to pass out when u read this n still catch fucking everything 💀🤣

WORDS ARENT ENOUGH I NEED TO HUG U THRU THE SCREEN. THANKS BB <333

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach.

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her.

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?”

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.”

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long.

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore.

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you.

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights.

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.”

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you.

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give.

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes.

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong.

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.”

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth.

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck.

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field.

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed.

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead.

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too.

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!”

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before.

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck.

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.”

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.”

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?”

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess.

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that.

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair.

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.”

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.”

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.”

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand. “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry.

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—”

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does.

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking down at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.”

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done.

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you.

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look.

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you met the three of them. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing.

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness.

Ren lets out a laugh. ��Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing.

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused.

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging.

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist.

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are searing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong hands wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along.

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me 😭 and by beta read i mean left the funniest fucking comments everywhere and i will forever remember how hard i laughed 🤣 i adore u sm thank you <33 SHES ALSO A WRITER TOO GO CHECK HER OUT on ao3 she is an amazinggg writer there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ you're all caught up!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

#whereflowerswenttodie #lovely m00t #brb gonna cry #n reflect on life #m00tie’s outlook on the world has me so humbled n blessed to have her as a reader #sighhhhh #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fanfiction

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seiyasabi · 3 years ago

Text

A Shifter’s Dream

(This is a Yandere Bunny-Shifter N’Doul x Female Reader story :P Plz proceed w caution

TW: !Noncon!, breeding kink!, hella cum!, he holds you down onto the mattress!, kinda sus bc u just turned 18, he deadass bites you, !pees on u in rabbit form, mounting!, mentions of euthanization of animals at the beginning!, etc..)

“-Mama, Mama!” Your voice echoes throughout the kitchen, as you hurry inside, hands clutching something protectively. Your mother turns, startled by your sudden appearance and anxious sounding voice.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did those neighbourhood boys bully you again?” Ever the mother hen, she frets over you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and taking a good look at you.

Shaking your head, you lift your hands, showing the older woman a taupe coloured rabbit, “Look! Mrs. Ruitz next door is selling bunnies! She says this one is blind, so she hasn’t sold it, so she said she’d give him to me if you say yes! Please, please, please say yes! She said she’d put him down if he wasn’t sold,” Tears bead your eyes as you practically beg your mother, who doesn’t seem to have the heart to tell you ‘no’ at that moment.

She sighs, weighing her options. You’re already ten, so you should be able to take care of him with minimal effort on her part…

“I suppose that’s alright. You just have to promise me that you’ll take care of him!” You instantly perk up, a bright smile on your face.

“I promise! I promise!” You hold the bun closer to your chest, practically rocking it in the process, “Thank you, Mama!”

The older woman smiles once more, patting you goodnaturedly on the back, “Good. Now, let’s go talk to Mrs. Ruitz- we have no idea how to take care of it.”

Walking across the street, your mother and your neighbour talk about your bunny’s proper care. It turns out, your bun is a male, who is previously named N’Doul. Not wanting to confuse the bunny, you decided to keep his unusual name, chattering away happily to him as you sat in the grass, barely listening to his care requirements.

The bun listens intently to what you’re saying, relishing your gentle hold around him.

He must be lucky, he thinks, to have found someone as lovely as you for a mate.

Eight years later, and you and your bun are still going strong. You’d recently moved into your own apartment, trying out adult life as you start college.

Today is your birthday, officially making you an adult.

The day was filled with festivities: your mom made you your favourite breakfast in bed (scaring you half to death- apparently she has a copy of your apartment key), your friends took you out shopping, and your mom took you to a birthday dinner. All in all, it was a great day!

But, a certain bun was seemingly more excited than you were for your birthday, because he seemingly peed himself in excitement the moment you picked him up. Lightly scolding him, you set him down on his rabbit bed that you made him, “‘Doul, what the heck man!” You laugh a little, remembering back to when he was but a teeny kit, “You’re not a baby anymore, bubs, you can’t just pee on me!” The bun is surprisingly smart, allowing you to let him mosy around your house (now your own apartment that you saved up for for years). After he figures out the layout, he’s able to figure out where his pee pad is, along with his grass bed, actual bed, and food/drink area. He is also able to hear where you are, allowing him to cutely hop after you if you’re not already carrying him.

Going to the bathroom to wash your hands, you hear his barely audible pawsteps behind you, “It’s okay, ‘Doul, I’m just gonna clean myself off, okay?” Flipping on your faucet, you get your hands nice and wet, before you pump some soap onto your hands, and start scrubbing, “Maybe I should shower now, since I’m already here…” You trail off when you feel you bun settle himself on your foot.

Glancing down, you catch him just in time, as he starts to hump you. Gasping in surprise, you try to gently shake him off, but that seemingly just gets himself off faster, as you feel a foreign wetness against your skin, “What the fuck? Are you serious, N’Doul?!” Annoyed with the way he’s suddenly acting, once you finish washing your hands, you reach down, and scoop the bun up, “That’s not cool, bro. Because of that, you can wait in my room while I shower.”

Plopping him in his bunny bed, you turn on your heel, and hurry back into the bathroom, closing the door before he can follow you inside.

Stepping out of your shower, you wrap yourself securely with your plush towel. Not bothering to wipe off the steam from your mirror, you bust out of the bathroom, only to be greeted with your now empty room. The door leading to the hallway is wide open, and your bunny is nowhere to be seen. Completely stupefied, you have no idea how to respond. Did the bun hop up high enough to hit the handle? That should be impossible! A Holland Lop is big, but not that big!

“N’Doul? Bun? Where on Earth did you go?” Deeming your bunny’s safety higher than you changing into clothing, you quickly move out of your room clad in only your towel.

You go room by room, searching frantically for your beloved pet. He has to be here somewhere!

So, when you finally make it to your living room/kitchen, you let out a yell of fear. There, on your couch, is a naked, bunny eared, buff man who’s humping into your previously used panties, “Who the hell are you! Get the fuck out of my house!” Reaching for the baseball bat in the hallway, you hold it up with one hand threateningly, the other currently holding your towel.

A deep, rumbling laugh is heard from the mysterious man, who then tosses aside your soiled panties, “Don't be like that, Love. Your N’Doul only getting myself ready for you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? And what did you do with my bunny?” He chuckles, relishing your cute reaction.

“I’m your bunny, (Your Name). I’m N’Doul.”

“The hell you are! Get out, before I bash your skull in!” He stands to his feet, completely towering over you. Gulping in fear, you move backwards, but then you notice his eyes. They’re the same milky white your bun has, “I-I’m warning you! Stay away from me, you creep!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, showing how large his hands are compared to yours, “I’m not going to hurt you- I wouldn’t be a good mate if I did.”

Without thinking, you chuck your baseball bat at his bunny-eared head, before turning and running to your room. You hear the metal bat make contact, along with a yelp of pain. Locking your door behind you, you search your room for your car keys. Not long after you dump out your purse in pursuit of your keys, you hear loud footsteps thumping towards you.

A loud bang echoes throughout the room, as the man’s hit practically shakes the foundation of the wall, “Open the door, (Your Name)! Open it right now!” He sounds angry, and when you don’t respond fast enough, he starts trying to break down the door, his muscled body practically bending the thin wood with each body slam.

Screaming in fear, you start to cry. Thick tears drip down your face, as you plead with him to stop, “I-I don’t want to! Get out of my house!”

With one last mighty slam, the humanized N’Doul breaks into your bedroom. His nose is bleeding from the bat hitting him in the face, but other than that, he’s completely unscathed. Hearing you cry, he immediately goes to shush you, “Don’t cry, Love. Now that you’re considered an adult in your species, we can finally begin our life together.”

To his chagrin, you continue to sob, completely scared out of your mind, “No! Get out! Stop pretending to be my bunny, it’s weird!” He approaches you slowly, his much bigger form slightly bumping into a few pieces of furniture. This gives you enough time to make a break for it.

You try to round his form, almost making it to what’s left of your bedroom door, only to be stopped by a meaty arm practically slamming you onto your bed. Trying to get up, you quickly realise that escape is impossible, as his muscular legs practically trap you against your mattress. He uses his weight to hold you down, as he bites into your neck, trying to make you submit.

“Shh, stop resisting me, my Love. I promise that I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives,” He continues to bite at you, as your screams are muffled into your sheets.

His large hands rip your towel off of you, exposing your slightly wet body to his prying fingers. The rough pads of his fingers rub at your erect nipples and unprepared slit, trying to get you as wet as possible.

“You’ll be a wonderful mother, I can tell you were made for this,” His cock head bumps against your tight entrance, forcing itself in as you scream.

He starts a breakneck pace almost immediately, relishing how your walls massage him so sinfully- as if you were made for only him, his inexperienced fingers rub at your clit harshly, trying to make this as pleasurable for you as possible,

Whilst this was happening, a bolt of pure pleasure shot up your spine, as he hit a certain gummy patch in your pussy, causing you to gush uncontrollably. Loud keens escape your gaping mouth, as his harsh ministrations are enough to almost make you cum immediately.

“Fuck, your body accepts me so perfectly, Love. It’s like it knows I’m going to pump you full of kits,” He lightly slaps at your clit, causing you to seize up in orgasm, quickly throwing him over the edge as well. Hot, virile cum overflows your womb, his swimmers quickly inseminating you. But it’s not enough. N’Doul, moments after orgasm, bucks into you even harsher than before, wanting to push as much of his cum as possible inside of you, “My perfect mate, I love you so much! I knew you were the one for me from the first time I met you! Only the love of my life would accept me even with my blindness!”

Still sensitive from before, the both of you hustle over the edge in mere moments, your release squirting all over the both of you.

“We’re not stopping until I know that you're pregnant, my love. Our wonderful kits are such a good birthday present, no?”

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #yandere jojo

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uhhhhyandere · 4 years ago

Note

👉👈 more yandere dimitri pls,,, that last one you wrote,,,, WHEW

haha idk where this was going or like... what the plot is or even what it’s about... but i had fun HAHAHA and literally all that matters

so here’s 8k words of purple prose and pointlessness and idk what else i love him so much... also not proofread bc I'm lazy. y’all stan a lazy ass author.

warnings: gory, death of minor characters, kinda bloody too, injury, manipulation

”It’s stupid. I-I don’t think… I just don’t want to get my hopes up, Annie. It’s been years…” With Garreg Mach looming on the cliffside, memories began to resurface with each field and decrepit village you, Annette, and Mercedes passed. They were fields where you would train relentlessly in the early hours of the day. An excuse, you think, to see him more. Innocent enough. Who wouldn’t want to improve their skill with the future King of Faerghus? Under those very trees is where you would have clandestine meetings at the same time beginning after the celebration of your victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Undeniably, the best night of your life.

You silently thanked Sylvain for slipping into the wine cellars and claiming you all had to finish the stolen bottles and clear the evidence. The only people still okay enough that night to do any cleaning were Mercedes and Dedue. Felix was technically okay too, but he left far before Annette was vomiting in the washroom to actually help out.

Your drunken first kiss at your bedroom door that Dedue definitely did not see. The sober one the day after. The sneaky one after breakfast. Quick one after training. Goddess, the heavy one in the dead of night after you scurried upstairs that Sylvain and Felix one hundred percent did not overhear through the paper-thin walls of the dorms. Countless kisses under the shadow of covers, night, until the ball. If everyone and their mothers didn’t suspect something was up when you two did not even realize you were the only pair left dancing, all eyes on you, until Sylvain whistled from the crowd, well, you would be deathly concerned about them.

“But those memories are from a long time ago, Mercie.” You pulled yourself from your thoughts. “Thinking about them only hurts. This place, what’s left of it, only hurts.” Mercedes set a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You think after five whole years, it wouldn’t hurt as much, but I don’t think I’ll be okay until this war is over. Until the cause of this - of all this pain and misery - is put to rest. Back then, even if we could have died at the end of any month, I thought he was invincible. I fled Fhirdiad as soon as I heard. Like a coward.”

“You can’t honestly think that! The Empire was taking the city. If you stayed, you could have died too! Don’t think like that.” You rolled your head back to look at the dark sky. You would make it back before it starts, at the very least.

“Everyone grieves in different ways, and it courses through us all at different paces. You have to let yourself hurt.” You shook your head, beginning to see the shadow of the village at the base of the monastery.

“I’ve been hurting for years now. When I met up with Felix in Fraldarius territory, he told me that the distraction will get me killed. An hour later he saved my life in battle, so he's ever the same. I wonder if he decided to show today. Sylvain would inevitably follow then. I’ve always thought--hey, do you hear that?” You stopped your movements suddenly, holding your arms to stop them as well. FIghting.

“Is it the Empire?”

“I don’t know, but we should help out anyway,” Annette replied. “Come on!”

You expected the Empire, but you weren’t surprised when you encountered thieves attempting to saunter off with the abandoned riches of the monastery. It was just like any other weekend you were off the road of bandits with the Blue Lions to clear a path for bandits.

Until you saw him. A ghost. As pale as one, at least. A hulking, nearly unrecognizable mass of strength shrouded in black and blue. Relentless, he tore through his path of thieves, the professor and Gilbert hot on his trail. The… professor? They were alive too? Your hand shook at your side. They’re both… okay? You swallowed. The professor always did tend to micromanage Dimitri. You realized you could not swallow with a closing throat, wobbling along with your chest. Wheezing, crying, freezing in battle. You heard Mercedes and Annette all around you behind a wall of fog. Legs shaking, you fell to the ground, hand tight to your chest.

“Y/N, come on, get up!” It was Annette’s urging, but she stopped suddenly. Two sets of feet set up around you. A barrier to protect you as your muscles shook. Get up. You have to. Get off the ground and fight. Just as he always taught you.

Your bow came out quick, sniping an enemy in Mercedes’ blind spot. Before you can do anything, argue it was your imagination that conjured the sound of his grunts and the blue of his eye, you had to survive to see them and keep track of Sylvain in the corner of your eye. He still tended to always look right instead of left. Were you not so shaken up, you would have reacted to seeing the rest of your old house in battle, but your mind kept filtering back. You did not see him again in battle. He and the professor were far ahead, after the familiar bandit you had dealings with from Anna, with the remaining three bandits. You, Annette, and Mercedes went to secure the area to make sure there was no bandit unaccounted for.

Didn’t last, though, as you fell to the ground against the foundations of a destroyed house, legs outstretched and limp. With your palm being held tightly over your mouth, you squeezed your eyes tight to get any remaining liquid out.

“Y/N…”

“H-he’s alive.”

“We know. We saw-”

“He’s alive. I spent five years grieving for someone who was here. I-I should have known he was here. I thought about it. I thought about it, but then I second-guessed myself and said that it would only hurt more. Searching for the dead. Pining for them, but look. I-I don’t know. I don’t know if I can even face him.”

“And you don’t want to.” Felix’s voice was just as sharp as it always was. He was grimacing, pace fast as he joined the three of you. “He is not the Prince you fell in love with. He’s the boar that’s been festering underneath his polite smile” With an exhale through your nose, you looked away. Felix really could read you like a book. He scoffed. “You knew too, didn’t you? All this time. Of course. I shouldn’t have put it past you to push things under the rug as you always do.”

“Felix…”

“It’s true. It’s how they even got through the relationship. Not as perfect as you thought, huh?”

“Felix, I think that’s enough.”

“No,” you interrupted. “He’s right. I knew. I was at the rebellion. I was at that battle that is ingrained into Felix’s memory. I was in the Holy Mausoleum when we found out the Flame Emperor's identity, but he never told me… I didn’t know the extent. You all knew he would hide me from all harm, including himself. Do you really think he would tell me whatever plagues him now? Though, I could take a good guess after spending a few nights in his room back then.” You swallowed, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “How bad is he?”

“A lowly beast.”

“There you all are. Professor says to regroup. Says we have plans to discuss, if you all are interested - woah, you okay?” Sylvain scratched the back of his head. “Oh right, yeah. Well, I don’t know how long His Majesty is willing to wait. He looks pretty - uh - impatient.” You shook your head and used the wall to support you back to your feet.

“Reunions like this are usually supposed to be happy, aren’t they? I-I’m sorry I’m ruining it on you all. I really am so relieved to see you all okay. It’s just… there’s a lot of emotion going on right now.” It was Mercedes’ hand on your back. You needn’t look to know.

“You don’t have to face anything you aren’t ready for.”

“No, I need to see what he has become. It’s as Felix says. I can no longer ignore problems I must face. I can do it, but we still have to check the perimeter…” Sylvain shook his head.

“Teach had Ashe and Ingrid do it right after you left.” Your professor always knew you better than you could ever know. “Well, let’s go then. Don’t want to keep them waiting on us too long.” His brown eyes came in close. “You hardly look like you’ve been crying, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t!” Annette stomped on his foot. “Y/N, it’s going to be okay. Me and Mercie are right with you!” A smile broke out on your face. Albeit sad, you nodded your head and believed her. Though you both knew, in the scheme of things, you were alone in this battle.

“Sorry, teach. You know Felix. Walks like a grandpa.” Sylvain, as common as it is for him to be the asshole, was a kind soul. No matter how much he tried to hide it. You gifted him a small smile of thanks as he glanced back. You were in the back of the small group when you joined the semicircle surrounding Gilbert, Byleth and… and… you couldn’t do this.

His hair has grown long and unkempt. Grease and grime painted his hair, his skin, his clothes. The armor he wore just a few shades darker than the circles under his single remaining eye but, oh, it still glittered brighter than the rainy sky. That was his eye. Though only one remained, it was his. This was your Dimitri. You clenched your teeth, for you could not cry anymore. Even if this Dimitri, from what you have heard, would not care for your tears, Dimitri five years ago would. You would stay strong for him if no one else.

And when his eye met yours, goddess, the jolt was felt down your spine. You knew your face screamed your emotions. You were no Felix, Slyvain, or Byleth. Lips parting, your breath halted as he kept your gaze. Nothing on him reacted. Goddess, his gaze was so much more piercing. You did not dare to move. As if you were a stranger, his eye flicked back to Gilbert as the knight continued to speak. Annette grabbed your hand from beside you and you squeezed so hard you watched her wince, yet she remained steadfast in holding yours just as tight.

For the mornings spent under the trees in the field after training, you would not cry. Dimitri is alive. He is here. A few steps away, though miles remained in between, he was alive. Within his dead eye, people will find hope. You will find hope. You know Gilbert already has as he speaks about returning to the monastery to begin to plan for the retaliation against the Empire. You know the former Blue Lions have as well, as they follow the professor loyally back up the ruined stairs you used to trip on far too often. You wondered if Dimitri can feel your eyes on the back of his head, or if he has come to be numb to that as well.

Annette did not let go of your hand until it was out of shock in the chapel. Its remnants littering the floors. Still, the peace of the goddess remained. Its silence was a lullaby to your worries. She, it had to be her, brought back the ones you love most. There was no other power. There couldn’t have been. Even though there was a hole where she used to stand, you thanked the rain beginning to pour in.

You would be strong for the boy Dedue would sneak you to in the dead of night. To wherever the Duscur man maybe, you would do it for him, too.

But being brave and strong was always easy for the people in Ashe’s books. They did not hesitate through their fear. It pushed them to be the heroes they are, but you could not find that platform to jump from. A mouse approaching a wolf, a boar. You sought help from the expert himself.

“Have you? I mean, have you tried to talk to him?” Ashe fiddled with the padding on his glove.

“No, not yet. Felix, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Mercedes have, though. You should ask them. They can probably be more help than me.” Stepping onto the wall separating Garreg Mach from the cliff, you sat next to him, allowing your feet to dangle in the open air.

“No, I think I need someone as scared as me. Someone who wants to be a knight from one of your books, but is the measly coward in the back used for poetic comparisons. Not that you are. I’m talking about me.” Ashe shook his head.

“It’s only been a few days since we’ve arrived.”

“And you think I would have already sought out the man I fell in love with already? A faithful reunion. Not quite like the ones in the romances.”

“I don’t think anything going on is anything like a book.” You furrowed your brows. “I know that’s crazy coming from me, but no book is like another. They have similarities, but they are all inherently different. This one we’re in now, this is ours. This is what people will be reading about and looking to for help. Us. No book can help us right now. I think only we can help ourselves and each other.” You kicked your heel against the wall repeatedly. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “You should try. If Dimitri will listen to anyone, it’s you or the professor, and they tried already.” You could feel your throat beginning to close up.

“What do I even say? What if I say the wrong thing? He’s hurt, Ashe. He always has been. I don’t want to… I can’t push him more. He’s not off the deep end yet. He can’t be. I don’t want to be the final straw. I know what I’ll say if I get too… emotional.” The man sighed, green eyes scanning the clouds.

“Well, from my humble opinion, which you don’t have to take, is that, if what you’re saying is true, you’re hurting him by avoiding him.” He stopped fiddling with the leather. Instead, he placed his hand on your thigh. “He is, deep down, the same Dimitri we know. What if he was the same, and you were doing this?”

“That’s debating if he is the same underneath. Knights are torn, but I know he’s there. He wouldn’t so easily feed into it. I know it. It may be time and so much help, but he’s in there. This is part of him. This is not an imposter. This is just as much of him as the one we knew so well. It… has to be, because I don’t know what I’m going to do if it’s not.”

Nights seem to be falling earlier and earlier with nonstop cleaning, repairs, and supply running. Even if you wanted to, you lacked the time to seek the prince out. The greenhouse had to be fixed. The rubble had to be cleared. The holes had to be patched. Communication had to be made. Word was the Knights of Seiros would be arriving this evening. Preparations had to be made for that. How the hell did Cyril do this day-in and day-out?

You were exhausted by the time Seteth and company arrived and set to meet in the chapel. The second time you’ve seen Dimitri since the bandits. The millionth time war efforts were to be discussed. Most of that work was carried out by Byleth and Gilbert. You only needed to follow orders, and your orders were to clean. Sorting out your emotions was just a side job.

“Y/N. Y/N. Are you listening?” Seteth’s scolding, something etched into your brain from the academy, broke you from your thoughts. However, you first regarded Dimitri, who looked at you the same as he did the first time, before having the courage to look at Seteth.

“I-I’m sorry. Lost in my own thoughts.”

“I asked if you have heard anything from Aegir? I know you were in contact with Ferdinand during the past five years.” Dimitri’s eye burned holes through your head. You could feel the sweat from it on your scalp.

“Duke Aegir has been placed under house arrest, sir. Everything from their title and land has been stripped from them. I… haven’t heard anything since. It would be safe to presume that they will not be an in with the Empire.” Yours and Ferdinand’s history stretches only back to the academy; however, before you and Dimitri became official, you and he would occasionally… work some stress out. Casually. Dimitri always hated this fact, but he did his best to hide the jealousy from you.

“It’s not fair of me to judge you on what you have done in the past,” he said. “I will be more mature about my feelings.” Though the gleam in his eye now was all too familiar.

“I see. Thank you.” Something within you kept you from meeting Dimitri’s eye. A fear he would look away, so you focused on Seteth, Gilbert, and Byleth as they discussed the steps to making Garreg Mach the Kingdom’ base. When the meeting ended, however, you did not listen to such fear. Dimitri spent his time in the chapel. The spectacle to gawk at. It was no surprise when he did not move as the rest of the group disperse, and neither did you.

But he would not break first. Turning around, his cape followed him back towards the wreckage of where the altar used to be. You followed with steps as silent as possible. Opening your mouth to speak, you released only empty air. Inhaling, you tried once again, but a wall erected itself in your throat, cutting you off once more.

“If you have something to say, speak.” His words, guttural, reverberated in you. Wringing your hands together, you took one last deep breath.

“Dimitri.”

“Do you wish to speak of the past?” His head turned, so you could only see one eye peeking from under his bangs. “The boy you loved is long dead. There is nothing here for you.” You shook your head and took an adamant step forward.

“T-that’s not true.” A dry laugh escaped him.

“Is it not? Are you not frightened of me? Is it not why you have hidden yourself ever since you arrived? You know it as well as I.” You tapped your fingers against your thigh. You had to remain calm and patient. He was going to try to push you away, and you knew that. Do not stray from the path.

“It was not you I was scared of, Dimitri.” Another laugh. This one wry. He turned around to face you then. You knew he had gotten bigger, stronger, but he stood so much higher than you. A power stance you would not succumb to. This is the same boy who broke a pair of scissors and was scared Mercedes would yell at him and smuggled sweets for you two to have late at night to study for your certification exams. “Do not tell me it is because you think you could have changed something. Prevented something. Nothing would have changed whether you were here in the past five years or not. Do not think so much of yourself.”

You squared your shoulders. You did not want to take this route, but you had to provoke some type of emotion towards you. Something to tell you that you are more than the tool of war to use against Edelgard, and he had already given you a hint.

“Then what about at that meeting, when Seteth asked me about Ferdinand? I saw the look you gave me. I’ve seen it before too. You cannot hide that.” His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you felt successful. “You can say anything you want. How I am insignificant, a tool to use, another body to die in your path to revenge, but do not-” you pointed a finger at him “-tell me what we had was nothing. I want to see what you see. I don’t want you to shut me out.” His eyes trailed down to your finger, and with an armored, gloved hand, pushed it aside.

“So you admit it then? A tool at my disposal. To use and then break?” You shook your head, and your throat clenched once again.

“You would add me to the list of people who already haunt you?”

“You know nothing of the dead. Of what they say to me. There is nothing for me to be concerned about other than taking the head off of that girl’s shoulders. Should you die getting in my way, then so be it.” His lance to the heart, but you would not let the pain show. He was the same boy who broke his training lance and hit Leonie with the broken handle and fretted about it for the next month, despite the blood on his hands. You had to believe that. Latch on to that single hope.

“You always did what you could to protect me. From Demonic Beasts, bandits, Felix’s words, but right now, I think you’re protecting me from yourself.” Metal against your neck. In a blink of an eye, his lance touches the skin.

“Do not speak as if you know me, and do not speak anymore, or else I will slice your throat where you stand. Go away. If you return, I will not hold back, and I will use you to the bone.” A competition played out between your eyes, but, in the end, you succeeded. Walking out the monastery with a drop of blood on your neck, you did not allow any other droplets to fall until you crossed the bridge into the reception hall.

You don’t who you cried for, or for how long until Catherine found you and guided you back to your room. Thoughts floated from Dimitri, his words, the past, to Dedue and his untimely passing and your peers that were now your enemies that Dimitri was ready to kill without hesitation and the reality of your death that could come in any battle here on forth.

Three knocks on your door. Too hard to be Ashe’s, Mercedes’, or Annette. Not hard enough to be Felix yelling at you to train like he used to when he could find no one else.

“Sorry. I was just passing by, and, well, wanted to check in.” The last thing you wanted Sylvain saying was that he heard your balling your eyes out. With shaky hands, you wiped your burning cheeks and unlocked the door for him to enter. “Oh, what happened? What’s that bandage from? Don’t tell me…” You motioned for the noble to come in and relocked the door. You didn’t want any more visitors.

“Yeah, I talked to him.”

“He hurt you?”

“I went too far. I-I shouldn’t have pushed him so deep into his emotions, presuming things he felt. It was just a scratch. I’m fine. You have the eye, Sylvain. You must have noticed the meeting.” You sat on your bed, while he spread himself on your desk chair.

“I remember he used to come to me during those times. How he can show his love for you through other means. How he had lost you before even had a chance to try. He was so stressed, and so hopelessly into you. I thought he had it for the professor, but color me surprised when he sought me out for advice on you.” You shook your head.

“Never should have started that with Ferdinand.”

“Something about nobles, huh?”

“Shut up, Sylvain. I-Look, I can’t even focus on the past right now. I use it to remind myself I’m talking to my Dimitri, and not the monster everyone fears. That, that man suffering alone in that chapel is the boy who got nervous every time we kissed, but… but it’s so hard. As soon as I saw him that day, I was shocked, overjoyed, but I knew something was wrong the same minute. He’s been alone for five years. By himself. The only people to talk to him were the dead. What kind of… I’m supposed to be the one that knows this, sees this, and helps this, but all I can do is cry in my damned room!” Sylvain was lighting fast to wrap his arms around you, and you clung on tighter to his shoulders. The sleeve of his shirt, the victim of your tears, saliva, and sobs until you had pushed your own self out of consciousness.

When you woke the next morning, your head lied on a breathing pillow. It did not take much to recall the previous night and you let yourself relax under human contact. It was something you have missed dearly in the past five years, and you know, despite his reputation, Sylvain would never try anything with you. Your eyes, heavy still from crying so hard, lazily trailed across the room. The window Dimitri almost broke with his lance, the desk you both hunched over figuring out the mathematical side of tactics, the potted plant the professor gave you for your birthday that Dimitri also broke, but replaced with the long dead ones present. The broken locks on your door from -

“Sylvain!” You jolted up, slapping his chest harshly. He woke with a groan while you stood and approached the door.

“Mm, what?”

“Did you hear anything last night? Banging, or snapping, after I fell asleep?” He rubbed your pillow over his face, so you approached him, tore it from his hands, and smacked him. “Sylvain. My door is broken.” Brown eyes were wide and glowing under the sun from the window. He rushed to check out the damage. “I think I know who would have…” He met your eyes. “Which means he saw - “

“Yeah, I get it. I’m a dead man.” You shook your head.

“Hey, hey, not yet. We could try to guess why he would come in here.” Sylvain rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious? It isn’t to kill you. He already would have been in the chapel. Oh - we messed up. We messed up big time. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You put your hand on his arm.

“It’s not your fault. You were here when I was sobbing. I can’t be mad at you for that. I’m mad at this whole situation. This war. Everything. You just need to avoid him at all costs. Stay with someone. Felix most likely. We could explain the situation to him, so he understands, and so he doesn’t think we… you know.”

“I get it. I get it.”

....

“Absolutely not.”

“Felix, it’s only until I get this sorted.” Felix groaned, tying his hair back.

“I’m not playing babysitter, and I’m not letting you handle this on your own. You’ll get yourself killed.” You shook your head.

“He wouldn’t kill me.”

“He actually told you he would.”

“But he wouldn’t. I trust that he wouldn’t, and if one of the two of us were to approach him, it could not be you. Out of the question. It would have to be me, and you both know that, and it has to be as soon as possible. I mean, as in-”

“Have you all seen Dimitri?” Ingrid popped around the corner. “It’s the Empire - they’re coming. Gear up and get ready. We don’t know what forces they’re bringing, but we cannot allow them to take the monastery again.” Of course, of all times.

“We’ll worry about this later. Do not let this distract you on the battlefield. Focus on surviving and nothing else. Got it?” Felix held a finger to your face. You nodded. “Good. Come on, Sylvain. We’ll see you out there.”

Focus on surviving. You were always focused on surviving. Battle was not merely just slaying your enemies. You were the priority. Not the oncoming enemies. That fact never changed during battle. That was the first thing the professor taught you; however, his selfless behavior on the battlefield would have anyone thinking twice. When it comes to fighting with people you cared about, priority gets muddled.

Dimitri was no longer focused on surviving. His priority was to kill, slaughter his way to Edelgard. Nothing else mattered. In this way, his fighting has improved tenfold. No reasonable person would want to confront him in physical combat, which made life harder for everybody else. Being a distance fighter, you, Ashe, Annette, and Mercedes were able to watch his back. Of course, Byleth couldn’t risk that many people micromanaging him. For strategy’s sake, it’s suicide. Mercedes was a critical healer and menace being trained a gremory. That source of power would not and could not be squandered. Ashe had worked incredibly hard to be a bow knight, and your most powerful archer can also not be used as a protector of one person.

The job usually came down to you. Both by order of elimination and by your lack of ability to focus elsewhere. Your eyes were naturally drawn to the splattering blood and the behemoth of a man as the source. Byleth knew this just as well as you. You were the definition of predictable on the battlefield.

But, the one thing you forgot was that, on a battlefield, nothing is predictable. To be able to predict the cavalier was able to reach you with his javelin was precautionary, week-one lessons, but, still, it sunk into your side. Unimaginable pain. The raw snap of impact. Warm blood cascading down your leg. Think… think! You had to get somewhere safe. Somewhere an imperial soldier wouldn’t finish you off. Hopefully, someone else would take care of that soldier before they reached you.

Each inch was crippling. The gathering of bushes and trees seemed so far, and your energy was slipping exponentially fast. You’d be out from blood loss in due time. It even began to drip from your mouth and onto the already stained grass. Almost there. The moment your foot crossed the threshold to the hideaway, you went lip on your back. Smoke and flames met the already decaying sky.

You glanced down your body. The javelin was at least a third in your body. Getting it out would just expedite the process, so you allowed yourself to lie your head back. Distant shouts and screams and metal clashing filled the air. The smell of the earth around you drowned out by the putrid scent of burning flesh. Something you never take note of while fighting for your life.

Peace was not a word to use in these places, but you had no other one to use as you lied still. Is this what Dimitri meant? You wondered what he would think and say when he heard, or even saw, your death. Your death. Another nameless, pointless death in Edelgard’s ruthless path to her goal. You can see Mercedes and Annie crying. Maybe even Sylvain and Ingrid. Felix, perhaps, would cry, but you were sure he’d be pissed at you. And Dimitri…

You sobbed. Perhaps you really were worthless, but you wanted to hope, to pray that he would be there each time you opened your eyes back to the gruel world around you. Each time, he wasn’t.

Until he was.

Blood dripped down his face, none of which was his own. It matted down his locks and dripped from each lock. Areadbhar glowed in his hand and dragged across the flattened grass and mud. The air was only able to jostle the very ends of his hair. His mouth opened, canines peeking from the corner of his lips. Leaving the smoke and fire behind him, Dimitri got larger and larger.

Goddess, he was beautiful. Even as he stared with an empty eye down at you, you couldn’t help but gasp. An angel of death. You moved to rise, but the rip of his lance on your breast pushed you back down. His eye traversed down your figure to your wound. The weapon rose and fell with your breath.

“Dimitri,” you breathed out.

“I told you, did I not?” His chin rose and Areadbhar’s tip dug just a hair deeper. “Foolish Y/N. You are too weak for the thick of battle.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “But you will not die by imperial hands. I will not allow it. If you are to die, it will be by my hands.” Your fists gripped the grass. Dimitri hummed. “You won’t say that I wouldn’t? Or do you finally realize the truth?”

“If you’re going to do it, just do it. Neither of us need this “ -you coughed -”stalling.” His elbow retracted and you winced, ready for the final blow.

“Y/N!” Sylvain. At the silence that followed, you peeked an eye open. Dimitri was focused on the source of the voice, giving you room to squiggle away until he forced the lance forward again. This time, the tip traced your left cheekbone. “Y/N!” Dimitri was daring you to speak, but, right now, you could hardly breath.

“You said you were not scared of me, before. Are you scared now?” He paused. “You said you want to see what I see. Do you keep your word? Do you honor it?” Were you supposed to answer? Fear crippled your ability to formulate words. “You will not die yet.” Areadbhar’s glow now dominated your left visual field.

In a second, everything in that field went black, and you screamed.

…

“I watched you go down,” Felix said. “You were at the higher ground, where you usually are in the midst of battle. You might as well have painted a target on your back if I can see you from across the plain, you idiot. That javelin went into your side,” amber eyes locked onto the bandages covering your side, “but I watched nothing touch your eye.”

Thank the goddess for Manuela and Mercedes. Without an expertise in white magic, you would be long dead. By the same token, thank the goddess for Sylvain who found you bloody and passed out in the cover of the bushes and delivered you to them on horseback.

Your fingers traced the bandages that wrapped around your head and covered your left eye. Everything to your left periphery and everything not covered by your right eye was black. It didn’t throb, didn’t hurt anymore, because there were no more nerves to send that pain to your brain.

“What happened, Y/N?” Ingrid cut in. Her, Felix, and Annette stood around your bed in the medical bed. You shook your head.

“I… I don’t remember. The last thing I recall is crawling towards the cover. I don’t even know if I got there.”

“Liar.” Felix abruptly stood. “Stop defending that boar, and just say it.” Your mouth opened, but Ingrid cut him off.

“Felix, are you saying you think Dimitri took her eye?”

“I know it,” he snapped back. “I’m right, aren’t I, Y/N? Just say it. Say that beast took your eye while we were all distracted in battle.” Your eyes glanced to the others, unconsciously asking for help.

“Felix, you’re adding unnecessary stress. Come on. We should give them space. We’re lucky they’re not dead” Her hand locked onto Felix’s arm. He grimaced, glaring down at you while he shook himself from her grip.

“When will you ever start caring about yourself? There is more death than just physical.” He spit out before stomping out of the room. Ingrid sent you a sympathetic smile and followed her childhood friend out. Annette left soon as well under the excuse of giving you time to rest, but you could not rest. Dimitri’s face haunted you every time your working eye closed. Every throb was its own lance. Its own mark.

His mark.

You thought you were crazy the first time you reflected on why you and Dimitri’s eye total was the same as a normal human being. You thought you were insane for romanticizing it. It was terrifying. Inhumane. To you, at least, but to him, you knew, it was a mark of possession. That when people saw you, thought of you, it would always be connected to him, but it was also a threat. Not only to those who dare try to do you harm that isn’t him, but to you. I told you. This is what you get and will continue to get.

You waited until the sun set, until the priests and priestesses would no longer be in your room to cry, so your pathetic cries of anguish would be bouncing off the walls in peace. Curling in on yourself, you buried your chin between your arms and stared into the dark room. Waiting and watching, a large silhouette emerged from the darkest corner and approached. Cold claws of his armor wiped away the tears on one cheek while simultaneously breaking the skin. You could only barely make him out through the moonlight in the open window next to you. Dimitri circled the bed, looking down at you from the side before bending down and planting his lips on your cheek. His warm tongue wiped at the newfound beads of blood, and you hissed at the contact. He separated himself just enough to look at the bandages around your eye.

“I get it,” you said. “I get it.”

…

Luckily (as lucky as you can get during the situation), the damage cut clean through the nerves, so all ganglion cells and connections to the optic nerve were completely severed. No nerves. No signal to the brain. No pain. Still, it would be a while before the tissue repaired and scabbed over.

You didn’t know what to do with Dimitri, frankly. Part of you was terrified to even approach him. Another was equally as terrified, but this was out of what he would do if you were with someone else again. You were sure of the correlation between your broken door and your stolen eye. You wonder, then, what else he could have seen? Sparring with Felix or advice sessions with Ashe or… too many instances come to mind.

Byleth pushed you to train more with your periphery severely impacted, and, when the time to march came, confined you to Garreg Mach until you were proficient enough not to get yourself killed.

“Good,” was all Dimitri said on the matter. It wasn’t until your assault into the Empire that Byleth deemed you ready for actual battle. Up until then, you spent your time training. First, it was with the knights, until all of a sudden they no longer desired to raise arms with you. Something about the demon over your shoulder. You looked to Catherine, who glanced to the door, where a large shadow quickly disappeared. You inhaled sharply and pursued.

“No one is willing to train with me. Do you have something to do with it?”

“They can’t help you,” he responded. He quickly strode down familiar, overgrown paths down to the fields below until you both reached the same field he had trained with you in years ago. Dimitri spun around, raising his lance. “They don’t understand.” From your blindspot, he swung, and you barely dodged out of the way, feeling the very wind from the force. “Get up and arm yourself.” You quickly shuffled to your feet.

“Why? Aren’t you… don’t you plan to kill me, anyway?”

“Equip yourself. I will not have filthy empire hands decide your demise, and I won’t have you staying behind on your own.” You gave up on trying to read into him. “Now, fight.”

It was brutal. Unlike the helpful and cautious nature of his corrections and demands, you learned through mistakes. If your leg got slashed, you moved it the next time. If you were pushed and forced to one side, you adjusted your posture for the next time. Dimitri gave you no breaks, no time to tend to the cuts and bruises he gave you. There was hardly time to catch your breath before he was charging again, forcing your back against a nearby oak. He seemed to not be bothered or fatigued at any point.

It would not be the first time your back was pinned against this very tree. Dimitri growled, his weapon lodged into the wood right behind your ear. A moment passed where it was five years ago, hands tight on your hips and heavy breaths swallowed by one another. Now, he pulled his weapon back and went in for another strike.

“It’s dark. I think we need to go back.”

“You think they will not use the guise of darkness? That we will always fight when the sun is out? Arm yourself.”

You limped back to Garreg Mach. The only real guide you had, with Dimitri’s brutal pace, was his footstep imprints and the sound of him pressing on. By the time you reached the gate, you nearly collapsed with Dimitri far ahead. Thank the goddess Anna was around to get help. Byleth’s dark cape flew behind them as they rushed through the market. They rushed you, as fast as you could go on weak legs, to the same bed you were confined to with your eye. Manuela dropped the elixir in her hand as you and your entourage busted through her door.

“Goddess, what happened?! No matter. Get them inside.”

Felix was going to kill you.

But still, when you were able, you met Dimitri again in the same field. And again. And again. Until you were no longer on the verge of death each nightfall when you returned. Your former housemates did not hesitate to chastise you or even micromanage you, but, inevitably, they had to do their own work, and you set off. Felix gave you an innumerable amount of choice words before it seemed he gave up.

You were confident heading into the empire. No opponent you would face, close up or far, was Dimitri. They were far smaller, thinner, and weaker. You’d even say they seemed to have less physical intent to kill you compared to the blonde. You traded in your bandages to a white eyepatch similar to Dimitri’s except there was still padding for the raw skin underneath. Something that inevitably drew enemy forces towards you.

“Y/N?” Despite the cruel, ruthless nature of battle, Ferdinand’s voice held the same noble gentleness. Your eye, wide and wild, met his. Across a stretch of corpses, the redhead stood tall, long hair matted down in the wind. You swallowed. “Y/N!” He called again, eyes wide behind you. In a split second, you turned to see an armored knight’s axe impending down on you. The next, a lance impaling them that breezed from over your shoulder.

“You killed your own man.”

“He almost killed you.” You hurried to dislodge his weapon from the body.

“...Thank you,” you muttered, handing the lance back to him. Your eyes rose to behind his shoulder. “F-Ferdinand!” Your warning came too late. Dimitri’s blunt force knocked him to the ground. There was no warning, no room for words, before the sickening sound of death cracked in front of you. Again… and again… and again. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Keep your eyes open. This? Was your fault.” Blood splattered onto his pale features, adding to the pattern already decorating his skin. “Let’s go. Stay by me.” Not that you usually didn’t. Still, your legs would not move. Not with the fresh corpse between the two of you. “What?” Dimitri hissed out. “Are you upset? He was just another body in our way... unless it was something more to you?” You shook your head, taking a hold of your bow tighter. “Good. Let’s go.” Dimitri did not bother to even look back, and you… you could not even look down, and hurried to follow.

You didn’t sleep for days. Ferdinand’s kind smile on your mind. You did not dare tell anyone of his gruesome demise. Though, looking at the detail, the monstrous nature of it, it didn’t take too much thought to guess who was responsible for it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to celebrate Dedue’s return. The thing about him though was that he never let too many things go unnoticed.

“How are you?” He simply asked, and you lost it.

“-I couldn’t do anything. I-I couldn’t! Or… or I didn’t. Oh, goddess, I don’t know.” Your hands shook in front of you. “He can do what he will to me, but to others? Because of me? I… fuck. I couldn’t tell anyone. Felix and co. are already suspicious enough.”

“I am sorry. I know those words do not mean much now, but, for what it is worth, I am.” He paused, furrowing his brows and focusing on the ground. “I-,”

“Y/N.” Dimitri hulked in the doorway. Where the hell does he come from? Dedue stood promptly.

“Your Highness,” he greeted. Dimitri briefly regarded the Duscur man before focusing on you once again.

“Come,” he said, and you followed, wishing Dedue a small farewell. Dimitri’s cape glided against the concrete. He led you across the bridge and into the empty echoes of the cathedral. It was far too late for any priests or students to linger. Especially with Dimitri lurking around in the late hours. “You still think about him.”

“I still think about his death,” you carified.

“Do not tell me you mourn for a man who was going to imprison you.” You scoffed.

“He saved me.”

“In order to take you back to the empire for information. Who else would he like to obtain than the one he grew feelings for? Do not be so naive to think he saved you so altruistically.” Your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You and I both know how war works. Do you think Edelgard and her army would not use every former connection to get ahead? There is no line on the path to victory. Being weak, showing compassion, is just how you get killed. How the enemy wins.” You shook your head.

“You said you were going to kill me. Did you not save me for that reason? My death is the same no matter whose hands it is by. It will have the same impact. One less body between Edelgard and you.” Dimitri’s eye glanced downwards, then shot back up to meet yours with a small chuckle.

“Are you not already dead? Have you not already succumbed to the wills of those who control your mind? Have you not already become your own form of monster?” You shook your head and took a step back.

“N-no, I’m not.”

“You are not? You allow these cuts and bruises to litter your body. You allow your own eye to be stolen. You allow others to die. You allow all of this without consequence. You are a worse kind of monster: the one that allows another to live, to unleash without consequence. You hardly see the others anymore. You do not train with them, eat with them. They tend to your wounds and you run to get more.” Metal fingers gripped your chin and forced your head upwards. “I told you I would kill you, and I have.”

HIs kiss was fire compared to the ice of his armor pushing against you. All-consuming, Dimitri’s lips molded to yours and his teeth pierced your skin. He licked at your lips, and you willingly opened your maw to let him in. You willingly allowed him to drown you out, to push you towards a pew and lock you between his body and the wood. He only separated to breath before digging for more, more. His tongue dragged across your own and touched upon your teeth, tasting your intricacies with increasing vigor. He inhaled every exhale you panted into his mouth. These were not the kisses Dimitri five years ago gifted you.

“You taste the same…” he whispered. “Show yourself to me. Let us be dead together.”

#yandere fe3h #yandere fire emblem #fire emblem fic #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #yandere dimitri #yandere dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #fire emblem x reader #fe16 #fe16 x reader #fe3h x reader #tw yandere #tw: yandere #tw injury #tw: injury

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roseelise · 4 years ago

Text

Safe Place (JJ Maybank)

Reposting all my writings from @r0s3mm, my main blog, it is not stolen or plagiarized. All my works on my masterlist are main unless stated otherwise.

Hello! Welcome to 2-h, the back up account of @r0s3mm, I’ll be posting my works on here too until (hopefully) my blog gets restored and if not this will become my main blog.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Elizabeth Miller (not canon for SWEET)

Word Count: 2349

Author’s note/warnings: mentions of physical and mental abuse, PTSD, fighting, injuries description, soft JJ, supporting/soft pogues, John B being a good friend,

Requested: Hi! Can you do a JJ Maybank request where y/n is getting abused at home and when jj is mad and John b it scares y/n. She’s usually confident and denies anything JJ asks. Jj steps towards y/n and she yells at him. Y/n tries to back away from him, but she trips and gets hurt from her previous bruises. Jj helps her but she is still reluctant, and it is super cute ;)))

Again, I changed it to an Elizabeth Miller x JJ Maybank bc yeah, I prefer writing it

********************

It was raining when Elizabeth arrived at the Routledge’s house, already playing nervously with her sweater she looked at her reflection in a window, hoping that the harsh rain hadn’t smudged or “wiped off” her make up covered bruises. Her whole body ached as she walked the few steps leading to the front door.

“Hello?” She said opening the door.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself John B!” She heard JJ yell. “Thinking that you’re better or whatever!”

“You’re on probation JJ! Peterkin gave you chances after chances and you keep blowing it!” She heard heavy footsteps coming her way and she stiffened.

Both teenagers seeing the girl but not saying anything to her.

“I’LL BE FINE JOHN B! Unlike you I managed to survive without my friends’ parents or the fucking sheriff bailing me out everything I fuck up.” The blonde yells, finger pointing at his best friend as he walked closer to him, a few inches between them.

“Don’t listen, don’t listen.” Elizabeth whispered to herself as she walked a foot from them going to sit on the couch, her pointer fingers scratching off the skin around her fingers.

“You’re a fucking asshole JJ, the Carrera’s and the Heyward’s always offered to help you but you’re too damn proud to accept it. Don’t fucking complain about not having shit when you have it but don’t take it.” John B said, raising his arms in anger, moving suddenly towards the brunette making her flinch.

She saw his face change, softening, while JJ was still fueled with anger.

“That’s how I was raised John B, I don’t need handouts.” He yells getting angrier at the pity in his best friend’s eyes. John B’s eyes fleeting quickly to the girl, trying to make her way to the guest room with getting anyone’s attention.

“JJ, calm down.” John B said, suddenly calm at the sight of the slightly trembling girl.

“I’m so sick of your hypocrite shit John B.” He said turning around to throw his fist into the wall, the punch landing not even a foot away from the girl making her whimper and flinch hard, hard enough that she walked straight into the ottoman, falling on the floor on her side. Screaming in pain, it pulls JJ out of his anger, John B immediately at the girl’s side, helping her stand up, flinching when his hand pulls her up by her shoulders.

“Don’t- don’t touch me John B.” She said quietly.

“I’m just hel—”

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME, JOHN!” She screams, her voice so vulnerable it wasn’t as loud or as strong and confident as she had hoped. The teenager raises his hand into the air defensively, leaving her on the floor. JJ alarmed at seeing his usually bright and confident girlfriend so vulnerable takes a step towards her, only to have her take a step back towards the hallway. She watches his expression change to a pained and confused one, never had she flinched away from him. She subconsciously puts a hand over her shoulder, rubbing it and wincing. She raises her arm in the air, making her shirt riding up and the boys gasp when they see the violet, blue and yellow marks on her side.

“Angel?” JJ calls out to the girl, his voice cracking, not believing his eyes.

“I’m okay, JJ. Bad fall is all.” She mumbles. “I’m gonna change my clothes, they’re all damp from the rain.” She says trying to hold back a sob at the pressure on her side. She takes a breath and walks to the spare room, closing the door behind him.

“What’s going on?” John B asks his blonde best friend. JJ shakes his head in shock and pain, recognizing the same defensive and fidgety persona he had been stuck with since he was a child.

“I’ll- I’ll be back.” He says softly to his friend, his breathing hard.

He walks hesitantly to the door, moving the knob without a sound, finding locked.

“Angel... Can you open the door for me please?” He mumbles against the door, his voice soft. “I’m sorry I scared you, would you mind letting me see your pretty face?” He asks, he looked back at John B, seeing his friend looking at the door with pity. His attention snaps back towards the door when he heard sniffles.

“I’m fine, J. Just changing, I’ll be out in a sec.” She says and he immediately knows that she is right against the door.

“I love you, Beth.” He says his head falling on the door with a thud.

On the other side of the door, Elizabeth is sitting against the door, looking at her half naked body, her hands tracing the weirdly shaped bruises. She stifles a sob when she hears JJ sliding down the door. She stands up, puts on dry clothes belonging to JJ and she slips into the bed, curling up on herself.

After a while, forty-five minutes to be exact, JJ starts to get worried.

“John B?” The curly headed teen looks up at his best friend, sitting in front of him against the wall. “You still got that key, right?” John B nods and stands up, going to his room and coming back a minute later with a silver key, handing it to the blonde.

“I’ll go out, get us some food from The Wreck, maybe get Kie and Pope here?” John B offers receiving a grateful smile.

“Sounds good. Seeing Kie will probably make her feel better.” JJ agrees, gripping the key tightly, he stands up, offering a hug to his friend. “Thanks, JB.”

“Anything for you man, her too.” He walks out the front door, leaving the two broken souls to put the pieces together.

He makes sure to not startle her or make any loud noises. He unlocks the door, seeing that the room had been plunge in darkness. He turns his head towards where the bed is, hearing her soft snores. He turns on the bedside lamp, making the girl frown is her sleep.

“Angel,” he says being careful to not hurt her as he caressed her hair. “open your eyes for me.” He mumbles

“Mmmh” she says burrowing her head in the pillow JJ usually used. “JJ?” she raises her head only to see her blonde headed boyfriend look at her with sad blue eyes. “what are you doing here? I locked the door.” She looks at the door seeing a key stuck inside the lock. “oh.”

“are you okay?” he asks, digging deep into her green eyes.

“yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” her eyes avoiding his

“look at me, Beth.” He asks and she does. “you know that I love you, right? So much, but I want you to tell me who hurt you.”

“N-nobody, I told you I fell down the stairs the other night. Went to a party at some kooks house with friends and got drunk.” She says looking directly into his eyes, repeating the rehearsed line that she used oh so many times and that’s when it clicked in JJ’s mind, she had used this excuse a few times, never making him doubt anything because he knew his girlfriend was clumsy.

“Shit. Beth how long has this been going on?”

“Since I was born, JJ. You know I’m not the best on my feet” she says moving her head to the side slightly and he gasps, eyes wide in horror as he sees the blueish, yellowish borderline green faded bruise on the side of her face, followed by some smaller ones scattered to her neck. “what?” she asks sitting up against her body’s wishes and she looks in the mirror, “oh fuck” she mumbles when she notices that the foundation, she had spent minutes blending on the face had been smudged. She looks at the white pillow seeing a pinkish tint on it.

JJ felt angry; anger, pain, pity, sadness. He was overcome with emotions at seeing his girlfriend avoid his gaze, her lower lip trembling as sobs silently and rapidly took over her body. JJ reaches out to bring her to his chest only to have her flinch away.

“Baby, baby, look at me, angel.” He says searching for her eyes. He doesn’t want to touch her in case she gets scared and shuts off. “Come on, my angel, show me the forest I love so much.” He says referring to her forest green eyes. She looks up, eyes filled to the brim with water. “Oh, my angel.” He says reaching softly for her hands, his own going up her arms with a feather like touch, adding pressure to her shoulders and bring her body against his.

He holds her tightly, without hurting her as sobs after sobs escape her body. He lifts her up, her legs naked under the blankets and a shaky breath leaves his lips when he sees the top of her legs covered in fists shaped bruises. He burrows his face in the crook of her neck, leaving frail kisses up her neck and to her lips. Peck after peck as the both let go of the tears that accumulated in their eyes.

“Show me.” He says against her lips and she presses a long kiss to his pink lips before breathing in.

“Promise- JJ promise me that you won’t go over there.” She says her eyes closed.

“who did that?”

“Kevin,”

“your mom’s friend?” she nods and he breaths in through his nose, before kissing her forehead. Keeping his hands on her as she painfully removes the hoodie. JJ’s eyes catch sights of her bruised skin, inches after inches. He inhales noisily, his hands rubbing comfortingly her thighs and the skin appearing. She sits back on her knees, JJ following her, he grabs her hands, kissing the tip of each finger, then her palms where marks of nails had been dug. He kisses up each arm, laying her back carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her tears never stopping.

“So beautiful.” He mumbles against her shoulder. He places himself between her thighs, kissing each bruise that he could touch. “I love you so much, my angel.” He takes off his own shirt, nothing sexual about it, simply wanting his own bruised skin to touch hers. She knew about his home situation, Elizabeth being witness to it to many times to count in the years they had known each other.

They lay down on the bed, before JJ sits up and walks to the door, grabbing the key and putting it on the table, he locks the door and goes back to her. They face each other, her red eyes looking up at him, she felt safe for the first time in days. She felt at home, her own fingers tracing the bruises on his abdomen, something she had done dozens of time whenever they were intimate or simply when JJ had had a bad few days at home.

“I love you.” She says as he wipes away a tear from her cheek and she leans into his comforting and tender touch.

“I’ll get us out of here, I promise.” He mumbles and kisses her lips a last time before he pulls their half naked bodies together and they fall asleep for a short nap.

A nap that’s interrupted when the front door slams shut, the girl’s body stiffening and relaxing when she hears her friends’ laughter and loud voices. She breathes out in relief and rests against the warm skin of her boyfriend’s.

“Hi.” His voice his full of sleep and he tightens his hold on her.

“Hello.” She speaks against his skin, smiling at the comforting thought of her boyfriend and their friends. She places a kiss between his two pecs, making him sigh.

“I’ll go with them, okay? Let you put some clothes on.” He kisses the top of her head before reluctantly getting out of the bed.

“I love you, JJ” She smiles as he puts his shirt over his head, leaving the boots next to the bed.

“I love you, my angel.” He unlocks and opens the door, all the gazes settling on him and he shifts uncomfortably.

“How’s she?” John B asks, concerned about his friend.

“She’ll be good.”

“Is she coming out?” Kie asks her voice shaking.

“Yeah, just changing clothes. Guys, don’t—”

“We get it, J” Pope says slapping his friend on the shoulder, bringing him in for a hug.

JJ hears shuffling behind the door, his head snapping to the opening door, her small frame walking through. Her body was engulfed in his clothes, her face fresh of any make up, the girls, Kie and Sarah, gasp at the sight of their friend. John B and Pope angry like never before.

“My baby.” Kie sighs opening her arms to her best friend. Elizabeth walks to the girl letting her engulf her in a safe hug, Sarah following soon after, the two tallest girls holding the broken girl up. She pulls away from them, looking up at the two boys next to her boyfriend, both sporting angry expressions and she walked to them getting on her tip toes and kissing their cheeks.

“I’m gonna be okay.” She says, walking backwards until her back collides JJ’s chest, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her neck, making her smile. “I’m safe.”

#obx jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x Elizabeth Miller #JJ Maybank one shot #beth miller x jj maybank #jj #Rudy Pankow #Outerbanks #SWEET masterlist #r0s3mm #fluff #smut #angst #physical & mental abuse

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jk-unless · 4 years ago

Text

You’re In The Marvel Films!!

Part 3 - CA : Civil War

Previous , Next

After Tony’s B.A.R.F presentation at the MIT Alumni event

You watch as he simply stares at the final words on the teleprompter he was suppose to say to the audience.”Now I would like to introduce the head of the foundation: Pepper Potts.”

Tony and Pepper had recently hit a pretty rough spot in their relationship.Because of this,Pepper hadn’t showed to the event.Tony knew about this and was fine until those words came up.It made him realize just how big of a part she had in all of it,and how much he missed her.

You immediately beat yourself up about the incident even though it was out of your hands.Because Pepper had canceled last minute,they didn’t have time to change it before Tony went on.You tried to tell him this as he walked off stage to which he replied: “It’s...fine.I’ll be right back.”He then made his way to the restroom,leaving you feeling guilty about not just the incident,but about Pepper not showing up in the first place.

~•~•~•~

After a while,you went looking for Tony to make sure he was alright.Finding him staring down the hallway at a retreating woman,you approached him cautiously and asked if he was okay.After a moment,he placed a hand on your arm.”Yeah,” he said “let’s get out of here.”

After Tony rounded up Steve and Sam.

Steve looks at the wall of various monitors,focusing on the one that shows his closest companion locked up in a metal box.

“Hey,you wanna see something cool?” Tony says,bringing Steve’s attention to him.Tony holds up a slinder,black box.”I pulled it from Dad’s archives.Felt timely.” He puts his coat down as Steve takes a seat at the table.

Tony puts the box on the table,opening it then turning it towards Steve.”FDR signed the Lend-Lease bill with these in 1941.Provided support to the Allies when they needed it most.”Steve studied the black box with a shake of his head.”Some would say it brought our country closer to war.”

Tony stops and chooses his words wisely before saying with a teasing smirk “See?If not for these,you wouldn’t be here.I’m trying to...what do you call it?”He sits down with a grunt as he tries to think of the right term.”That’s an olive branch.Is that what you call it?” Tony rubs his hand over his mouth,a signal of stress and discomfort.He doesn’t know where this conversation is going,but he wants it to end with Steve signing those papers.Realizing that was possibly Tony’s angle,Steve decides to change the subject.

“Sam tells me his sister,Cammi,is your new assistant.”

“Well,after Pepper started pretty much doing her own thing in the company,I needed someone to deal me.It was a pretty in the moment type deal,me hiring her,but she’s a good kid.She keeps me in check.” Tony explains with a fond smile.

“Speaking of Pepper,is she here?I haven’t seen her around...”

(And y’all know where that goes...)

After Baron’s evaluation with Bucky.

After a very long and stressful day,Tony was eventually able to make his way back home.He coops himself up in his lab,as he always does,and tries to wrap his head around everything that has happened in the last few days.You eventually disturb his peace,approaching him and smiling when he looks up.

“It’s late,Cammi.” He says tiredly,but with no real heat behind it.If anything,he was glad you were here.You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. “Says the one who’s cooped up in his lab at 1:00 am.”

He rubs at one of his tired eyes with the palm of his hand. “Touché.Where you coming from?”

You coyly lock your fingers together and rock on your heels and toes.”My office.”Any trace of exhaustion momentarily erased from Tony face as he realized what you said.”Cammi!”

“I was just getting a head start on things!”You try to explain to him but he turns around on his stool and let’s out a heavy sigh. “Which probably wasn’t the best idea,my head is painin’ me so bad.”You say why rubbing your temples.Tony looks at you with an unamused look on his face.”Maybe now you’ll learn to stop working when work is done...unlike me.“He says while grunting as he stretched in a failed attempt to loosen some of his aches and pains.”Well,I just wanted to check on you before I head out.”Tony went still.He subtly clenched and unclenched the hands that laid on the table in front of him,having no idea what to do or say.

“I know it’s not my place as an assistant,but as a friend-” you start but as he finally turns to you fully at the mention of the word that didn’t fully describe what you were to them,you became a bit timid.”I’m worried.About both of you.”

He takes your hands and rubs his thumbs over your knuckles soothingly. “There’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about,Cammi.”

“I-“ you start,but huff when you realized you didn’t know how to respond.He started talking again before you could think of something anyway. “And with that being said,I want you to get out of these clothes.” he begins,making you look at him in shock.Noticing your face,he chuckles.”And I want you to get some rest.You’re going to see Pepper in the morning,and you’ll be with her until further notice.” He finished.

You gawked at him. “You’re under enough stress as it is,Tony,I don’t think sending the help away is the right way to go.”

“What did I tell you about calling yourself that?”He scolds lightly.You calling yourself “the help” made him think of the The Help and it made him uncomfortable.

“My bad.” You apologized,failing to hide your grin.

A small smile graced his features,only being there for a quick moment before he got back to the subject at hand.“I just want her to have someone right now.” He says quietly,as if he’s scared to admit that she’s probably hurting just as much as him.You get it,you really do.But like you said,you were worried about him.

“And what about you?” You asked.He smiled a pained smile.

“I’ll be alright.”

You didn’t believe him,obviously.Instead of pressing the matter though,you pulled him up by his hands - putting his arms around your waist then putting yours around his neck in a warm embrace.

Outfits for this story here.

(Completely optional bc I know readers like to think of their own outfits!This is just for help with visualization if you need it!)

(A/N:This one is a little rough around the edges,but I think I like it?I dunno,enjoy!)

#youre in the marvel films #youre in the marvel movies #poc oc #black oc #marvel oc #poc marvel oc #marvel x black!reader #series #cammi jones

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lovenliterature · 4 years ago

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evermore thoughts

willow

I wasn’t sold on this on first listen but I really liked it on second listen with more attention to lyrics

video is also really lovely, big fan of that

really really like the difference in melody for the diff appearances of “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind”

favourite lyric: “I come back stronger than a 90s trend” - the look she does at the camera cemented this as my fave line even more

champagne problems

down as one of my faves from the start

love love love the narrative

proper late night with cider, melancholy vibe

kind of like a grown up/worse feeling august in terms of vibes?? as in like the experience described feels like a more intense heartbreaking august in a way

really like the conclusion too

favourite lyric: I really struggled to pick here but: “you booked the night train for a reason/so you could sit there in this hurt” for sheer visceral emotion, “dom perignon you brought it” for the way its sung, “How evergreen, our group of friends/Don't think we'll say that word again” and “she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred” for lyricism

gold rush

again, one i wasn’t super sold on the first listen, music and the vibe didn’t really interest me

first notes made me think of epiphany

but then i listened to it watching the lyric video and holy shit

now v appreciative of the melody and bass and the pace of the lyrics

really really like her embracing talking about jealousy

love love love the ending and beginning being the same holy shit

favourite lyrics: “at dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit” and the way she sings “with your hair falling into place like dominoes”

‘tis the damn season

again preferred on second listen, wasn’t on the list of early faves

the best xmas late night walks vibe, walking through frosty streets at home between houses, embracing the only time you get to think, losing yourself in music and nighttime with freezing hands and cloudy breath

would’ve fit my 2019 xmas vibe too

melancholy and nostalgia

favourite lyrics: “sleep in half the day/just for old time’s sake” and “and the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own”

tolerate it

god girl you deserve better

kinda like a sad last great american dynasty in terms of searching for approval

naive innocence taken advantage of

drunk in my garden walking round to try and forget my life kinda vibe

favourite lyrics: “i know my love should be celebrated/but you tolerate it” and “now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

no body no crime

holy shit did i sleep on this at first but oh my god its so good

start gives me show of hands vibes which is great

her husbands acting different and it smells like infidelity - just the way she sings this is so so fucking good

this is the easiest song to listen to and holy shit its just great

favourite lyric: “she said “that ain’t my merlot on his mouth/that ain’t my jewellery on our joint account”

happiness

“all the years I’ve given/is just shit we’re dividin’ up” - v v true, you have to rebuild your life after every relationship and taking it all apart is so much more sudden than building it up

like an alternative to the 1 which I LOVE

but also some parallels to this is me trying: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool..... sorry I didn’t mean that” vs “my words shoot to kill when I’m mad”

the whole bridge is iconic - “I can’t make it go away by making you a villain” - in the short term, anger at an ex can help, but eventually you have to move on, and its easier to accept that there was good in the relationship after a while, and it makes looking back on it better

“no one teaches you what to do/when a good man hurts you/and you know you hurt him too” - blame on both sides is much harder to take and grieve and its hard to know how to cope with that. it also makes advice more complicated because there isn’t much you can say to help

favourite lyric: “both of these things can be true” - always love duality and nuance in literature and its nice to hear it acknowledged in a climate of binary oppositions and no shades of grey

dorothea

nostalgia for the future

now prob my most listened, gets stuck in my head and one of the few i do listen to in isolation - like august

Reminds me so much of Ella - each other’s history, not each other’s whole future but in there somewhere

again sapphic vibes, real strong esp because of the ella vibes its the whole in between romantic and platonic affection

“hey dorothea, do you ever stop and think about me” - that’s the way I think of people I love esp ella and people from that era of my life, and anyone where its kinda open ended or just grown apart

favourite lyric: “and damn dorothea, they all wanna be ya”

coney island

instant fave - marked down from first listen and probably still one i actively look forward to

much like with exile, the male vocals GOT me

“did I shatter you” that line broke my goddamn heart

favourite lyrics: both for the sheer feelings of the vocals and the lyricism “were you standing in the hallway/with a big cake, happy birthday/did I paint your skies the darkest grey” and “and when I got into the accident/the sight that flashed before me was your face”

ivy

the way she sings goddamn could be the whole fucking song its so beautiful

“my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/taking mine, but it’s promised to another” - the passive here is great

“he wants what’s only yours”

the trilogy of these lyrics “what would he do if he found us out?”, “he’s gonna burn this house to the ground”, “and drink my husband’s wine”, the recklessness, the drinking his wine like a secret defiance

“my house of stone/your ivy grows/and now i’m covered in you” - fucking hell this is the best imagery - even with the strongest walls and foundations, the love crept through and grew inside her til she was covered in it

favourite lyric: quite literally just the words “oh, goddamn”

cowboy like me

“dancin’ is a dangerous game” - hell yeah I get so many feelings from this, it just reminds me of the intimacy of dancing and the feeling of swaying in someone’s arms

“and the skeletons in both our closets/plotted hard to fuck this up” - both like active interference of exes or just simply trauma, unresolved issues

“forever is the sweetest con” - believing hurts and everything ends but its worth it for the time you have

favourite lyrics: “now you hang from my lips/like the gardens of Babylon”

long story short

first notes make me think of between the saltmarsh and the sea even though its SO different but also a bit like august idk why

“if the shoe fits walk in it/til your high heels break” - i just love the imagery of this line

“fell down the rabbit hole” - living for this line and the wonderland vibe

“but if someone comes at us, this time i’m ready” - the vibe of like not looking for a fight but defending what you love

favourite lyric: “past me/I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things” - YES BITCH also the energy I give to past me and future me gives to me now or “long story short I survived”

marjorie

another song I come back to on its own

this is the exact wistful vibe i look for in calm ish songs, can be sad, can be happy depending on a mood and this is perfect

the video is incredible and marjorie providing the backing vocals made me cry also it being in the same place on the record as epiphany was on folklore

“never be so polite/you forget your power/never wield such power/you forget to be polite” - love the use of wield, it also feels like the medium women try to find between being a “bad bitch” and being ladylike, but not a medium society will accept bc fuck that, the exact way THEY wanna do it instead

really the song i needed after the year of so much grief, and i know it’s gonna bring me comfort when grandma goes, especially the line “what died didn’t stay dead”

favourite lyric: “watched as you signed your name: marjorie” - the way this is sung will literally stay with me forever, its like a legacy in one line

closure

again, instant fave

the vibe of you don’t owe someone shit just bc they feel guilty is so good

“yes I got your letter/yes I’m doing better” “I know that it’s over” - I’ve moved on and I don’t need your permission for that or your well wishes thanks

Moving on doesn’t mean forgiveness

I just love the melody so much and its such a good song agh

favourite lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life/staying friends would iron it out so nice”

evermore

“grey november/I’ve been down since July” - most explicit pandemicy vibes i get, I was home and it was almost possible to just regard it as a normalish summer, looking after the dog and living at home and now its coming up to Christmas and I’m living away from home, our family is split across 5 homes in 4 cities and its fucking hard (not even sure if its that type of down but that’s how it made me feel)

“writing letters/addressed to the fire” - literally just picked up on this lyric and has kinda a dual meaning for me. 1 -feeling shit about things you create, putting in effort, just to throw it away. 2 - tactic for tackling anxiety, just getting rid of thoughts and releasing them from my brain

“Cannot think of all the cost/And the things that will be lost/Oh, can we just get a pause?” - again, v pandemicy and so relevant to the fam’s 2018-2019, we just needed a pause, we had to keep going and not process what we’d lost or we’d never carry on

such a good depression song

favourite lyric: “staring out an open window/catching my death”

#ts9 #evermore #my thoughts on music #music #taylor swift lyrics #taylor swift #my writing

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jayyrayy90 · 4 years ago

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I'm so angry and disappointed. I'm so frustrated with my own self too bc no matter how hard I try I can't even force myself to hate you. I have numerous reasons to hate u but I can't. I guess I'll never be able to.

What's so fucked up to me is how you can just erase me like I'm nobody to you. How you can flip a switch in your brain and I've suddenly become your enemy. How you so easily can make so many promises to me, how you can look me right in my eyes and lie to my face so easily, and how you act like you've done absolutely nothing to me or act as if the things you done were something insignificant and dumb and I'm just being overdramatic about them. Like the shit you did shouldn't matter just bc of shit i did 5 years ago or simply bc u hated me so those things were justified.

To this very day you have no respect for me and treat me as if i meant absolutely nothing to u. I don't think you will ever understand how bad that hurts me Jasmine. You, of all people in this entire world, broke me down piece by tiny piece until there was nothing left of me. You drained me of my last bit of sanity, hope for love, and I will never let another human being get close to me again as long as I'm here on this earth. You took all of that away from me so effortlessly, carelessly, and easily. I never meant anything to you and I wish like hell I knew exactly what made u hate me so much that you'd even consider doing the things you've done to me.

In some sick and cruel way, I believe u got some kind of enjoyment out of watching me fall apart. You enjoyed knowing you could go do whatever you want and come back to me whenever you got ready bc like a dummy I'd always be there waiting. I was so stupid and foolish to even think any of your promises were sincere. What made me look even dumber was the fact that I believed you and in you. I had faith in you. I was so gullible and blinded to believe that the person you used to be was still somewhere inside of you. That loving, honest, sincere, faithful, and LOYAL person u used to be had been dead and gone years ago and you kept showing/proving that to me. Yet i kept fighting to bring her back. I kept praying, hoping, and wishing that someday I'd get my baby lovey bear back. I failed to even try and believe the things you were so effortlessly trying to tell me with your actions. You've been trying to tell me that you didn't love me anymore for so many years. I was trying so hard to be/say/do everything you wanted just to make you love me. I pushed the things you were doing to me so far in the back of my mind that i allowed myself to become blinded. I just kept telling myself that you were lost and didn't know what u were doing at the time, every time I would think about the things you did.

Truth is, you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew exactly what risks u were taking. U knew exactly what u were jeopardizing. You knew. Yet you still did it anyway. You didn't care and still don't about what happens to me or my life. You have no idea the amount of pain that causes me. Its honestly like I'm loving the shadow of a person who never existed.

The way you left me, I would've never left you like that, even if i did hate you. All those years we spent together and you just leave me like that knowing I was broke. I would've never in a million years plus some, NEVER left you like that. I would've bet my entire life that you wouldn't have ever done that to me.

When you came back in my life, the one thing you would always say was, "The way I left you last time was fucked up and I know it. I got my karma. I'd never leave you like that again." Something similar to that anyway. But guess what, you left me even worse than you did the first time Jasmine. And u don't even care. How can you not even care?!! I have no words to even describe the pain. Words couldn't even come close..

In the beginning i wasn't much of the person I should have been. I had issues and addictions. I wasnt really worth your time. I put you through hell and for that I will forever be sorry. If im being honest you terrified me, no one had ever saw me the way you did. No one had ever wanted me the way you did. No one had ever made me feel the way you did. I had walls that had always kept me safe and kept me braced from the world but you... you somehow made them fall over time with your undying love for me, even when i was awful. You saw me through the worst times of my life. If not for you i wouldnt be here today. you saved me.

To me, we had a beautiful bond and an amazing love. You were everything i ever wanted and i couldn't believe you were mine. Maybe looking back that is where the trouble started...I had such guilt for who i was and how i treated you at the start and i felt so lucky to have you that i started to compromise on the things that were fundamental to me. I started to give way more then i received and i started to let you think things were okay that honestly weren't. I let you start to walk all over me and looking back maybe if i had stood up for myself then, instead of just feeling like i owed it to you for sticking with me then maybe things would be different today..

I stood by you, i did any and everything for you. I let you take out your anger on me. I would pretend to sleep until i knew you were asleep so i could just make sure you were okay. I was watching you hurt in a way i couldnt fix. I didnt know how to help, so i decided to just be everything and anything you needed. I put my entire life aside and made you my priority, my world. I dont regret it, you needed me and i was there without question.

This is where it started to go downwhill, you were changing into someone i didnt even recognize and the worst part is you couldn't even help it. Our life had become one full of fights and make ups only to fight again shortly after. You were pushing me away and i didnt know why. I dont even think you knew why, so i took all the hateful words, the poor treatment, the lack of time invested and the lack of love being shown and made it into excuses for you because of what you were dealing with. Looking back i dont think this helped you the way i thought it did. It taught you that i was always going to take it. I was going to let you walk all over me and i was going to apologize when i didnt do anything wrong simply to avoid a fight. It didnt help, you left me in such an agonizing way. i was shattered, my entire life had just fallen apart and i was lost. You were my world and you were just gone!!

I was your friend. I was your family. I was your lover. You are a person that could have been any number of things to me. Heartbreak plays no favorites when it chooses people in life to let you down. I really always had faith in you. I trusted you and the promises that you made to me. I believed in your aspirations and disregarded your ambiguity. I let you in, against my best wishes. I relentlessly defended you. I saw the beautiful parts of who you were. I made plans with you and kept them in my head like a guaranteed magnificent destination. I loved you. I gave you all that I had and now I am left feeling empty and cheated. But do you know what the strangest and most unbelievably frustrating part of all of this is? I forgive you.

Your betrayal shook my foundation. Not just the foundation of us, but the foundation of everything I thought. All that I believed about love was up in the air. I wasn’t sure about anything. It wasn’t just about you. I was now questioning everything.

The truth is, you didn't really love me. Maybe you loved the idea of me. Maybe you loved having me around because I would have done anything for you, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't have destroyed me the way you did. That's not love.

I loved you so much that I lost sight in everything else, especially myself. I glued myself to you so tightly because I was so terrified of losing you. Lets be honest though, you were never really mine to lose, were you?

You always treated me so coldly, and I couldn't ever understand why when all I ever did was love you. Sometimes the harsh words you used still stay inside of my head.

I was never good enough, or at least that is how you would treat me. I was always wrong, I was the crazy one after the break up, it was never you. It was always me. You were poison to my heart, and I wanted so badly to save you, but I couldn't. You destroyed me mentally and emotionally to the point where I can’t even feel emotions anymore. To the point where I am literally completely numb to feeling anything or having real true emotions towards anyone or anything.

When I met you, I knew. I knew in some way, shape, or form, you would hold incredible significance to my life. I knew you were going to be a constant. I knew you would change me.

Yes, we had our disagreements, but we always made our way back to each other. I always felt you in my heart, there was nothing you could do to make me that upset for long. I already needed you. I knew, the second I held you close to me, I knew, that this was it for me. You were it. All I wanted, and all I would ever need.

You have issues, my love. Internal struggles with yourself, external issues with your family and others around you and it weighs you down. I never have held that against you. But the struggles you faced made it impossible for you to love me the way you wanted to, the way I needed you to. Still, I held on, praying you would stay with me, praying you would get better. Through all the fights, the petty disagreements, and the abuse, I stayed. Why?

I loved you blindly of course. I loved you without restrictions, and without caution. I loved you wildly. In my head, I knew you could be better. I wanted to see that happen for you. I wanted to help you get to where you should be. I believed in you. I loved you so deeply, I would have, and did do, anything on Earth for you.

The truth is, you are not who I once loved. That person is gone. That person took some of the deepest parts of myself with them. I will always love them.

Had you tried for me, love, had you tried for you, we would have been in love forever. But you didn’t, and sitting around waiting for you only made things harder on me. I’ve accepted the fact that the you I once knew is gone.

I didn’t want to move on from you. I hoped in the deepest cell of my heart that you would come back and sweep me up and make things better. But eventually, I chose to move on. I chose to heal myself. I chose to fix what you shattered. It didn’t come easily, and nearly everyday is a struggle… but I have to. You are the love of my life, but you are long gone now...

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bigsnzstanacct · 5 years ago

Text

Captain A

A piece of C*ptain A/mer/ica ABSOLUTE crackfic bc I wanted to imagine Ch/ri/s E/van/s with sneezes that can blow out walls and apparently I didn’t want to have a plot. Not canon compliant in the slightest.

“Ahhh… AHHHHHH…”

“Oh shit, hit the deck, Stevie’s gonna…” Bucky said.

The other two just looked at him like he was crazy.

“What are you talking about?”

“AAAAHHHHH… AHHHHHHHHHHHH… O-out of the…”

“Stevie’s gonna blow!”

The two strangers just stared, like they had no clue what was about to happen. For a second, the realization crossed Bucky’s mind, but he only had half a second to realize, think about how bad this was gonna hurt, and lunge towards them, putting enough strength to knock Captain America to the ground in his leap… “AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH-CCCCHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Classic Stevie sneeze, a perfectly enunciated ah-choo, as American as apple pie and with all the power of a good old-fashioned American detonation of a few tons of good-old fashion American TNT.

When the dust settled—and it was a good thing the dust didn’t set him off again, maybe the years had pushed Steve past his allergy to plaster dust—Bucky was on top of, well, Bucky as well as Steve, the other Steve. And of course, a large chunk of the wall of the SHIELD safe house they were in was blasted to kingdom come. And Bucky’s shoulder hurt.

“Sorry, fellas.” Stevie said, obviously trying to put Captain into his tone, though his flushed cheeks gave him away, as ever. He was always embarrassed when he gave into his allergies accidentally, back when he was tiny little Stevie and after the serum, when he was big, massive Stevie. Tiny Stevie had been embarrassed of his body, of the harsh fits of sneezing that seemed too powerful for his small frame, and yet oddly gentle. Massive Steve was embarrassed of losing control of a body with enough power to smash through walls… which of course he’d done, again. As usual.

“Don’t be sorry Steve. That was a little one for you. At least you didn’t blast the whole building down.” Bucky said, walking up to Steve and rubbing his back. “And you gotta let ‘em out, you know holding it back doesn’t do anybody any good, not now. We’re not trying to stealth our way through Germany anymore.”

Meanwhile the other Steve and the other Bucky just stood, mouths hanging wide open, astonished at what they’d just witnessed. At least, they did for a moment, until the Winter Soldier’s eyes narrowed in a way that meant “threat”, and Bucky Barnes looked up at Steve Rodgers in a way that meant “threat?” and Captain America assured went into “assessing the situation” mode, with a soft “it’s all right, Buck.”

“So… what exactly just happened here?” Other Steve asked, and Bucky had to bite his cheek to avoid laughing. He couldn’t help, though, elbowing his Steve in the ribs and saying, “I told you so.”

Steve just rolled his eyes, and said straightforwardly, “I sneezed.”

The Other Steve just stared him down, obviously not satisfied with that answer. Bucky was really fighting not to laugh now. “I told you, punk, of all the Steve Rodgerses in all the universes, you’re the only one where the A in Captain A stands for…”

Steve put one hand up, and used the other to elbow Bucky in the ribs, much harder than Bucky had elbowed him, which set the dark-haired man back a few paces, doubled over. That hurt!

“Jerk.” Steve said.

“Punk.” Buck spat back.

The Other Steve was rubbing his temples by now, obviously exasperated and in part fighting to avoid smiling himself, the old Brooklyn banter having put him in an old Brooklyn mood. “Alright, alright. Calm down you two. Listen, Rogers,” Other Steve said, walking towards his doppelgänger with narrowing eyes. “we both know that wasn’t just a sneeze. Are you telling me that in whatever alternate universe we’ve stumbled ourselves into, I’m a walking, building-destroying uncontrollable biological weapon?”

“Well, not completely uncontrollable, we have some tricks…” Bucky started, before Steve cut in with, “Yep, Cap. That’s about the size of it. It comes in handy more than you’d think.”

Other Steve’s eyes narrowed further. “You all got a Hulk here?”

“Yep.”

“You two must be a holy terror together.”

“There’s a few buildings that would agree with you, yeah.”

Other Steve paused, clearly considering it in a Captain America way the tactical pros and cons. Then he frowned. “But how often does… that happen.” Other Steve said, gesturing towards the wall. It wasn’t the totally reinforced steel of a primary SHIELD safehouse, but it the usual sturdy construction of a SHIELD lab, and he had just witnessed an alternate universe version of himself sneeze a hole through it large enough for two Hulks and a Thor to walk through comfortably, side by side.

Back in the day, Bucky would have stepped in to defend Stevie’s honor but even though there was a blush high in Stevie’s cheeks that Bucky liked to think only he could see—though if there were any other folks presently in the universe who’d see it, it was Other Bucky and Other Steve—Bucky knew that Steve was capable of explaining his whole nasal… situation just fine. Even if it did deeply embarrass him.

“I do my best to keep things under wraps. But, can I assume you also had pretty severe allergies as a youngster?” Steve asked. His doppleganger nodded. “Well while it seems that for most other versions of Steve Rodgers the serum destroyed those allergies, for me it didn’t. My allergies haven’t gotten any better. If anything they got more severe, more sensitive when I got the serum. These sneezes are this super-sized body responding to any threat it sees, with violent force. I can fight it, and I do. Bucky and I have a few tricks when what I can do fails. But honestly, from time to time I lose control. I can’t always fight my allergies. So, when I can’t fight the sneezes, I assess. I’ve gotten very, very good at assessing the difference between a sneeze that would do that…” he said, gesturing at the hole in the wall, “and a sneeze that would bring the ceiling down on our heads. That sneeze was the former. If I had tried to fight it off though…” Steve pointed to the ceiling and mimed it falling down. “Sometimes a controlled detonation is an acceptable outcome. Does that make sense, soldier?”

Other Steve still eyed Stevie uncertainly, but Stevie had gotten better at this, Bucky thought. Right after he got the serum, nearly blew New York City to bits with a fit of sun-induced sneezes and got shunted to show duty as far away from feathers, fans, and flowers as possible, Stevie had been terribly awkward: about his body, about his allergies, about his powers. But now, to see him so confident… it warmed Bucky’s heart a little, it did. And if his confidence could stand up to Captain America’s scrutiny—even that of a different Captain America—well, Bucky had to give credit where credit was due.

At last, Other Steve nodded. “I don’t like it, but I get it. Bucky knows,” Other Steve said, tossing his head back towards his Bucky. “before I got the serum, I got sneezin’ fits that felt like they could turn my lungs inside out. And if my allergies were even worse, and in this body… I get it. You’re makin’ the best of it, I know that much.” Other Steve said, Brooklyn creeping into the tones of his voice, as it often did when he reminisced on old times.

“Well glahhh… g-glad you g-get it, soldier, cause…” Steve was already scrunching his nose. Maybe he wasn’t so immune to plaster dust as Bucky had hoped.

“Step back boys!” Bucky called out, “you wanna be behind him when he’s about to blow…”

Steve walked towards the hole he’d created—clearly what was coming on was closer to a “blow down the house” level sneeze than the previous “hole in the walls” sneeze.

“hhhEEEEHHHHHhhhh… HHHHUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh… b-biHHHHHhhh… big wuhhHHHHHHHH… HUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH…”

“Oh shit. Did he just say…” Bucky warned. “Oh shit. Guys, uh… you might wanna take cover…”

“HHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..” it was a vast, smooth gasp in, his chest swelling perceptibly as more air and more air and more air fllled Captain America’s super-strength lungs, preparing to be expelled with all the strength in Captain America’s body. He’d walked right to the edge of the hole he blew in the wall. Several large trees swayed in the breeze as Steve sucked in air, leaves flying off in a swirl of colors, before being joined by twigs snapped off, and then branches.

Bucky shouted over the immense bellows of Steve’s inward gasps: “When they get this big, he pulls in a lot of debris, make sure you don’t get hit!”

And indeed, soon it wasn’t just small branches flying, it was a wall of dust big enough for a dust storm, it was rocks dredged up from the ground, and trees were being uprooted even by his heavy breaths. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. It seemed as though the entire world was swirling around the storm system that had Stevie’s itchy, irritated nose as its epicenter. As terrifying as Steve’s big sneezes could be, Bucky noticed, not for the first time, there was something almost beautiful about it, about how much power the formerly-little, presently-huge Steve Rogers was uncontrollably summoning, and how something far far far tinier pushed him to this uncontrollable precipice.

It was just a few more huge gasps, each one seeming to shake the building’s foundations: “HUUUUUUUH! HEEEUUHHHHHHHHHH! HUUUUH!”

And then the explosion.

“HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

He doubled over with the force of it, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice—even amidst all the chaos—the round bubble of Steve’s butt, practically shaking in sympathy as the roar of a sneeze mastered his heroic frame. He aimed it towards the hole in the wall, but the force of the sneeze blew an even wider section of the wall out impossibly far, further than the ordinary eye could see, though once the dust settled and Steve recovered, this crew could spot where the debris of the sneeze landed what seemed like a mile away. That debris included every tree in a hundred feet, uprooted and tossed like a twig from the wild destructive force of Steve’s sneeze. If he’d aimed the wrong way, he’d have probably blasted the whole safehouse a mile down the road. It was at least a Hulk level of destruction, but Bucky wouldn’t want to lay a wager either way. It would come down to how mad the Hulk was—and how allergic Steve was.

As the dust cleared, Other Steve and Other Bucky stood up from their crouched position, surveying the damage. With a whistle, Other Steve said, “that, I take it, was a big one.”

That slight blush was heating Steve’s cheeks again. “It was above-average” was his very diplomatic response. Obviously Other Steve knew a political response when he heard one, but obviously decided to let it slide.

For a second, Bucky noticed Steve’s nose twitching, and he thought he might succumb to another sneeze… but then he straightened up, gave a hard sniff, and smiled sheepishly at the group, one hand behind his head, looking for all the world like little Stevie from Brooklyn, having stolen from the cookie jar.

“So, uh, yeah. That’s why they call me Captain Allergy.”

— Two things that didn’t make it into this fic that I nonetheless wish to share:

Steve’s sneezes get bigger every time he tries to hold back. He didn’t let the first sneeze out full force, ergo the even bigger second sneeze. And eventually the sneeze he fought off at the end (bucky was right that was definitely a nostril flare) is gonna come out. That will be a big one.

(Other) Bucky: “So that’s your secret? You’re always sneezy?”

#snz story #male allergies #gigantic sneezes #snz fanfic

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eurydice-khthonios · 6 years ago

Note

Are you taking requests for the kiss prompts? If so, could you do 11? Any characters are good! If you're not taking requests feel free to delete ♥️♥️

i like had to rewrite this bc i accidentally reloaded the page like a MORON and lost what i wrote but hey i got it there eventually like hours later

anyway requests are always open and if you leave it open ended like this im probably going to use whatever i write for a longer thing so stay tuned for whatever this bullshit turns into

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

There is a beauty in the world when you are ignorant.

You can look upon the monuments people build, the marble they construct their buildings out of the stained glass they erect to arc over their city streets and see the surface of beauty they want you to see.You do not see the sacrifices made in vain, the corpses that laid the foundations. The better off dead people who drift between those buildings, with nothing but hidden bruises to give them the reminder of their sorry fates.

Yes, there is beauty in this city. In the lilting voices that travel through, echoing from the cathedrals in each sector of the city. Each a spoke in a wheel, one slice for one family, another for another, and another for another. This is what devotion, a rabid, fanatic devotion and a charisma to control thousands of people brings.Order, pristine and stark. No one any wiser to the machinations of the priest lords that govern them, that turn the wheel that is their city.

The history in these walls, the rivulets of blood that had once run along the cobblestones beneath a thousand devoted people’s feet, are hidden so that the flock can remain faithful.

Devotion isn’t a currency here, or a way to denote the lower classes from the higher ones. It is a law, mandatory. To blaspheme here is a deadly insult to the land itself.

It is a crisp sound that echoes down the hallway beyond the door, the distinct click, click, click of shoes upon the stone. Even, measured. There is no hesitation in them. He can see in his mind’s eye the sight beyond the door. The gold and silver glittering in the filtered light, the vestments of the priests. The halberds crossed over the door rising to allow them entry.

Click, drip, click, drip, click, drip.

Blood stains the skin as it runs down, dripping onto the floor. Down shoulders, down cheeks. Though perhaps blood is not the correct word for it.

The footsteps stop just before the door, pausing for longer than they should. It is a nervous pause for him, unusual.

Though light soon floods the room from the outside, and for a moment he is blinded. The sudden shift stings his eyes and he flinches away, the rattle of metal following his movements. Body tense, just barely relaxing when the door closes behind his visitor. He expects words, something harsh or degrading. Or, perhaps worse, some form of blessing.

He does not expect to see someone drop to their knees before him, the black ichor that leaks out of them beginning to eat at the fabric of their clothes. The glitter of the jewellery priests wear to show their status made apparent with the magic that begins to swell in the hands of the woman before him. He retreats as far as he can, back pressed to the wall. Cold, vaguely slimey.

He looks up and sees his lady love.

Dark hair to frame her face, long eyelashes to line her eyes. Her hands, elegant and so familiar- belonging in his- reach for his face. Her magic has a sting to it, then a jolt. Like electricity running throughout the whole body, but slowly his wounds close as she pulls his head forward. To lay against her chest. Fingers threading through and untangling long untended to hair.

He cannot hold her, not like this. Wrists held back with manacles, the ichor that spills from his closing wounds either staining or destroying her clothes entirely. But he does not shy away from this contact, and neither does she, instead he seeks it out. Leaning as far forward as he can, towards her, into her.

He swallows, trying to bring some moisture to his throat, his mouth. “You- You shouldn’t be here,” He whispers raspily against her collarbone, afraid the guards outside will hear. Afraid for her.

She does not speak right away. Continues to stroke his hair, long almost as long as her own. He feels her nails against his scalp, a shiver running along the back of his neck. She is warm beneath his cheek, soft.

“I am exactly where I should be,” she says in kind after a few seconds to just hold him a little longer. She pulls back, lifting his head with her fingertips beneath his chin. The only light in the room is the remnants of her magic, floating around her like wisps. Illuminating the gold in her eyes, and the purple in his.

“They’ll-” He cannot push at her, urge her towards the door. Surely even these few seconds are too long for the comfort of her peers, of her parents.

“Do nothing they have not already done,” She presses her lips to his, soft and chaste. Like the slightest touch could send him scattering to the winds. As always, he seeks the taste and sensation of her before sense asserts itself. “For you, I will risk some minor reprimand.”

They both know the consequences for this will be more than minor, that the long sleeves of her vestments hide the marks of consequences. She presses her hand to his chest, pushing back against the wall once again and following after. Chest to his, lips more firmly to his. His mouth coaxed open, tongues pressing together.

He could kiss her like this forever. Forget the impossibilities they live with, the harsh words and actions of her parents. The hatred her entire society has for creatures like him. When she kisses him like this, he can imagine a world where she is his and his alone. He wants to touch her, to hold her. Tries, once again reminded of his sorry state. He tilts his head down, away from her lips.

“Eos,” His voice is hoarse, his concern laces it. He feels her fingers curl, the ever so light drag of her nails. “This- You’ll get hurt--”

“I can take it, it will be no worse than any other session.” Her whisper is insistent, desperate. There is something else, that she isn’t saying. He worries, if she is here- he is something awful to these people, surely this time could be the last time. How can he let her get hurt, again and again, just to love her?

“I’m sorry,” He says, arms struggling against his manacles as if he can break through them now she’s here. “Are you sure you--”

Another kiss, harder again. Urging his mouth open, her kiss is all tongue and teeth and nails dragging over his skin. The steady glide of her hand up his arm, her fingers encircling his wrist below the metal cuffs.

She pulls back, expression so soft, so tender. All for him. She strokes his cheek with the back of her fingers. He sees a glow in her eyes, her magic building up once again. For what he does not know, and when her expression turns it makes his stomach flip.

“Wait, Eos, no--”

“I love you.”Those are the last words he hears before the world turns to nothing.Not black, not unconsciousness. There simply isn’t a world anymore. Not destroyed no, he has simply been thrust out of it.

He expands his awareness.

No.

Not out, inside something else. There is the smallest window, the size of a peephole for a door. He presses against it, his presence focused to see outside. He sees that room, still lit up with magic. Then sees Eos clip something- the object she has put him inside- around her neck and leave.

He also sees, before she slips him beneath her vestments, her mother and father begin their walk down the hallway towards her when she leaves the room.

#asra #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana #the arcana game #the apprentice #the arcana apprentice #the arcana oc #eos.txt #writing.txt #asks #ask #arcana game #arcana oc #arcana apprentice

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mordogeira · 5 years ago

Note

How do you get into Fate? Where do you start? Do you have to watch all of it?

Oof, that's a question and a half. It depends on what you like!

If you're into visual novels, start reading fate/stay night, it's where it all started. I have to stay, I didn't get into the VNs, so I can't say too much on them /w\

If it's the anime you're interested, I can help you out with that!

First off, you have a choice: you either start at fate/zero, which gives a good introduction into the setting and rules of fate. It's going to spoil some stuff for later seasons but imo it doesn't hurt the experience. It's tone is very different from later seasons, which is why i recommend it as a starter season, so you won't get a whiplash from it.

Alternatively, you can start with fate/unlimited blade works. The show, not the movies! It's a direct continuation to zero, which is why i recommend putting this one second.

With that, the foundations are set! You are free to go in whichever directions you want, so I'm giving you some pointers:

The original VN has three routes, named fate route, unlimited blade works route and heavens feel. They're all alternate timeliness, but you're supposed to experience them in that order. The heavens feel route is currently getting a three part movie adaptation and we're getting the last one at the end of the year. So feel free to continue here!

If you enjoyed the unlimited blade work cast but want some fluffy good times, continue with carnival phantasm or today on emiyas menu. They're disconnected from the Canon, and greatly enjoyable!

If you enjoyed fate zero, the lord El melloi II case files are getting an amazing current adaption and is a continuation to Waver Velvets story, and is very Sherlock Holmes-y. Huge recommend!

Some completely alternate time line shenanigans would be fate/apocryphal and fate/extra last encore. Both got mixed receptions, mostly bc apocrypha isn't quite up to standards of the earlier entries, and last encore is a very confusing entry (but nonetheless one of my favorites!)

Otherwise, fate/grand order, the fate mobile game is getting its own continuation of anime, unrelated to previous entries. Next season the absolute demonic front: babylonia will start airing. We already had an episode 0 to get you introduced into the setting, so after you've finished a season of fate feel free to delve into this! If you're still confused after this, feel free to ask me any questions!

This is a huge wall of text, so I'm sorry if it frightens you. But once you've finished your first season, fate is your playground! If you like it, you'll have so much content to dive into!

I hope this is clear for u, if not don't be afraid to ask me more questions anytime! It can still be confusing, but fate is a franchise that's just great for mindless self indulgence, so don't worry about it if you don't get something!

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sassysweetstories · 6 years ago

Text

Watch

Request: “Can you pls do a shawn mendes imagine based off the song “watch” by Billie eilish. Can the reader be a singer and they used to date but 2 years later she wrote this song and he realized it was written about him and he goes to her house and tells her he loves her and it’s the paparazzi catch them the next day leaving her house holding hands and smiling and it’s all cute.. btw I think you should continue doing ships bc your blog is so unique no one else does it like you❣️”

Ship: Shawn Mendes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, heartbreak, sadness, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners.

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist@beingmadinwonderland@princessisabelle19 @violence-and-velvet@lachicadelamanzana

Third P.O.V

The breakup still hurts after the two years, the fire still burns bright. (Y/n) can’t think of anyone else as she adjusts the microphone, waiting for James Corden to give her the okay. The only person that still occupies her mind is Shawn. That’s why the song is so hard to sing. The lyrics are so raw, so passionate they feel like a raging inferno that’s impossible to tame. The fire in her lungs burns stronger the longer she sings.

“Lips meet teeth and tongue My heart skips eight beats at once If we were meant to be, we would have been by now See what you wanna see, but all I see is him right now I'll sit and watch your car burn With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Go ahead and watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out

She thinks of only him and the mixed feelings that begin to bubble in the pit of her stomach. (Y/n) craves to be in his arms despite the nauseous feeling from deep within. There were moments when he wasn’t there for her, didn’t take the time to love her right but that never stopped her from diving head first into their relationship. She remembers the nights he’d be out too long recording, only wishing that he could be in her arms.

“Your love feels so fake And my demands aren't high to make If I could get to sleep, I would have slept by now Your lies will never keep, I think you need to blow 'em out I'll sit and watch your car burn With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Go ahead and watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out

Shawn watched the TV screen, completely entranced by her performance, her song and most of all the words behind them all. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, the ones he’s always loved, never stopped loving. She doesn’t look the same as she once had. Eyes tired and cheeks hallow from lack of nutrition despite the layer of foundation and makeup that make her look much more alive than she actually is. (Y/n) has always been beautiful and radiant but there seems to be a spark that’s missing. One that Shawn is sure to light again.

“When you call my name Do you think I'll come runnin'? You never did the same So good at givin' me nothin' When you close your eyes, do you picture me? When you fantasize, am I your fantasy? Now you know Now I'm free

He gets up from his chair, more determined than ever. The longer she sang the more sure he became. (Y/n) was his everything, the woman he never wanted to let go. She was the one person that he saw himself getting married to, having kids with and everything in between. She needs to know that he’d do anything for her, cross mountains, swim rivers and battle gods just to make her smile.

“I'll sit and watch your car burn With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out Never let you back Let you burn, let you burn Never gonna let you back Let you burn.”

The rest of the show goes by like a blur and all (Y/n) knows is that all she wants to do is sleep and hope the heartbreak will vanish from her memory completely even though she knows it won’t. Upon entering her house, she felt empty despite the normal warm vibe. Resting down the guitar, she stopped cold at the sight of another body in the room. Shawn. Before she could even mutter a word, he took three large steps forward and pressed his lips onto hers. The kiss, so passionate, so full of longing, made the two stumble into the wall, crashing with a loud thud. The way she gripped his chest drove him wild.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but moan into his lips as his warm calloused hands push at her skin which seemed to fit so well around her waist. “I love you so much..” He muttered breathlessly against her skin, their bodies so close. “I’m so sorry for not showing you every second of everyday that you were the best thing I could ever have. I need you, (Y/n). I want to start over. I want to treat you like a princess, shower you with affection and love you unconditionally.” She knows she shouldn’t look up at those beautiful chocolate brown eyes but she can’t help it. She’s just as weak for him as he is for her. (Y/n) lets herself fall again with a faint smile.

[The next morning]

The young woman shifted, blinking under the sunlight that seeped through her windows. She stirred again at the cold chill that only seemed to disappear as quick as soon as she noticed it. A warm body pulled her closer to their chest. Glancing up (Y/n) noticed Shawn was already awake. She blushes under his strong gaze. He awoke early just to make sure the night before wasn’t a dream. Stared down at the goddess of a woman that sleeps breathlessly in his arms. He couldn’t help but admire the way her chest rises and falls while the sunlight gleamed against her face. She was elegantly beautiful.

“C’mon, beautiful. Breakfasts on me.” They couldn’t keep their eyes off each other as they changed, admiring features they both missed for oh so long. Shawn pulled out his sweatshirt and pulled her in close. She was his and he was hers. He opened the door first, never letting go of her small hand that fit perfectly in his. (Y/n) followed close from behind and, overcome by emotion, Shawn couldn’t withhold himself from simplistic moments such as these and kissed her softly. “God, you are so fucking gorgeous.” The giggle emitted from her made him swoon even more as they made their way over to a local cafe. Shawn sits in the booth, pulling her legs up and above his, can’t bare to be away from her soft touch.

“ARE YOU SEEING (Y/N) AND SHAWN AT THE CAFE TOGETHER THEY’RE SO CUTE!”

“I’M DYING!!”

Shawn can’t help but laugh at the twitter comments. He can’t believe it either. Can’t believe that one song can bring two people together the way it brought him and (Y/n) back into their lives. “I would do anything for you.” Shawn whispers against her ear again, happy to have her back in his arms.

(I hope you guys liked it, PLEASE FUCKING COMMENT!)

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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Hold On To Me Chapter 12 {biadore} - imafuckinglibra

Idk how to intro this so let’s all just do a collective miss vaaAAANJjiee. Okay now, Chapter 12. Yay. Bc I like numbers ending in 0 or 5 I’m very tempted to end this fic on 15 but we’ll see (probably not wops) I had a beta this time which was cool thanks for the help babe. And other than that we have some hurt, some fluff and some smut so enjoy bitches. K bye.

“When’s the last time you saw him? Or was that it?” Detox peeked out from behind her mirror with one eye already lined, too intrigued by the story of how Danny ran out of Roy’s classroom to finish the other.

“No.” Roy desperately, with his head back, downed the last of his mocktail. He was over this no alcohol rule his doctor put on him. In the words of the nosey Detox - he’s had it. Officially. “Yesterday I saw him and some…douchebag, making out.”

“Ooh…ouch.” The other queens getting ready with Detox’s reaction echoed throughout the room.

“Yeah.” He somberly nodded dropping his gaze to his now empty glass.

After Danny ran out he tried going after him to explain but the teen was quicker than expected. His inhumanly long legs carrying him much faster than the injured Roy could ever keep up with.

He tried calling endlessly afterwards getting the number from Shane, he even tried from Shane’s phone a few times eventually even calling his mother when Danny hadn’t shown up to school two days in a row following the incident.

The only other option he considered was actually going to his home to confront him and declare his love and more importantly explain that everything was some horribly fucked up misunderstanding.

That was until Danny finally showed up that Thursday with Dan, or as he had decided on calling him, Milk, with his arm around him.

Just the sight of someone else clinging onto the boy he loved so much broke his already cold heart into a million unmendable pieces. But finding them at the end of the day disgustingly lip locked in the hallway pressed up against Danny’s locker really pushed him over the edge.

After that he was unconsolable. He threw things in his house, breaking furniture, paintings, anything within reach before he collapsed onto his couch a complete and utter mess.

He had never felt so helplessly alone, so lost in despair and heartbreak that nothing seemed worth it anymore.

He had started debating if the main character Alfred Jones from the book his juniors were assigned, Doctor Fischer of Geneva or The Bomb Party, had the right idea after losing his wife.

He had lost his own Anna-Luise and that glass of whiskey laced with prescription pain medication to take away all the agony had started looking more and more appealing by the passing hour.

Lucky for him the friends he had previously hated for putting him in this predicament was still there by his side, Shane and Raja, helping him pick up the pieces. What pieces they could that is.

Alas the show must go on…

He had returned to school the next morning avoiding any interactions or even having to look at Danny or his new apparent boyfriend.

Acting completely on auto pilot, an emotionless robot as he went about his day. Sure it’s been a while since he’s dated but he never remembered feeling this way, this shattered.

He did his duties, assigned homework, ate his lunch alone in the same excruciating silence he had grown so accustomed to and when faced with Danny in day to day life he shut down further. Blanking out completely to avoid facing the inevitable heart break creeping in again.

He even somewhere in his robotic haze accepted his friends’ invitation to their show. He didn’t exactly feel in the mood for drag, both his injuries and his heart were still too sore to put on a gown and go be productive which is how he ended up here, watching his friends getting ready while he read a book.

“Wait was the guy he was face sucking with like really tall and pale? And gorgeous?” Detox, now with both eyes winged, popped out again.

“Why? One of your discarded trash?” He snarled in her direction.

“Moewr, but no. Willam mentioned it’s his late birthday party tonight and that they had to organize a date for him.” She started digging through her phone that was laying on the table next to the endless amount of powder foundations. “This guy.”

Roy got up to take hold of the phone. Examining the photo lit up on the screen of the one and only, big and milky in an ice skating outfit. “That’s the one.”

The one asshole who’s teeth he wanted to kick in so hard he’d have to stick a brush up his ass to clean them.

He was a pretentious douche who acted above everything and anyone just because mommy and daddy were some kind of lawyers who raised a spoilt brat.

“So then it’s like an arranged thing? It’s not a real thing.” Courtney tried reassuring bringing him a glass of what he hoped was wine and not just grape juice. “One glass can’t hurt right?”

“Thank you Jesus.” He took the much needed alcohol and threw his head back after taking a big swig savoring the taste and feel of it burning slightly down his throat.

“He wouldn’t have been that mad if he didn’t care or was planning on going to find a new man, right?” Raja chimed in. She had a point.

“He’s a teenager, Raj, their brains wor…” His rebuddle got interrupted by a loud ringing coming from Courtney’s bosom.

“That’s something you don’t see every day…” Detox got up pointing to Courtney. “Behold the great vibrating slut. Latest in technology.”

“Shut up.” Roy growled in the very obviously drunk Detox’s direction keeping his focus on Courtney.

“It’s Danny.” Courtney went pale even through the multiple layers of make up when she pulled the ringing device out and looked at the screen.

“Why would he?” Roy tried grabbing the phone from her hand but she was quicker than him and answered it.

All the other queens immediately came running to circle them, the room dead silent as everyone eagerly tried to listen in on their conversation.

“Daniela?” Courtney carefully spoke.

“Is he there!?” Her phone didn’t even need to be on speaker to hear Danny’s yelling over some incredibly loud music and cheering.

“Who? Roy? Yeah, right here.”

“Put him on!” He nearly screamed.

Hesitantly handing the phone to Roy they could hear some very loud screeching coming from the other end.

“Danny?” Roy spoke, his heart pounding out of his chest getting ready for an earful and a half.

“Roy? Roy! Where are you?”

“At the club? Listen I…what’s wrong? Why are calling? Are you okay?” Recognizing the panic in his voice made his already racing heart speed up tenfold.

Shit this was not good. Flashbacks of the last time Danny called like this replaying on a never ending loop in his mind.

“No…” The soft sob could barely be heard. “I’ll wait at the same 7-11 as last time just please come get me I…I don’t know who else, who else to call. Hurry please.”

Shit!

In a moment of sheer panic Roy dropped his wine, not even bothering to acknowledge it as he grabbed his keys and rushed to his car before anyone could stop him.

He didn’t need any more motivation. Danny needed him.

He shouldn’t have listened to Chris.

‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ Danny cursed his friend and his ‘ingenious’ plan from the previous day, replaying the conversation in his mind while he waited for Roy.

Maybe he shouldn’t have called him but he was desperate and it was too late to turn back now.

It’s a long walk, and the music is loud. She sees an old friend, as she walks through the crowd. Puts on her best smile, but underneath it she’s a broken girl…

The deep voice of Justin Warfield filled the confined space he was in. After running out of the classroom halfway through the day he made a beeline straight home.

He’s never been a runner, he hates running, he hates exercise in general let’s face it - but that day he ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him away from anything Roy Haylock.

But that was nearly 3 days ago.

He’ll never get you, he will never understand. He’ll never get you, you can find a better man.

The singer repeated as the pace and volume of both his singing and the music picked up every time he sang those two sentences, repeating them in a seemingly never ending loop.

“You know you can’t run away from him forever, babe.” Chris tried comforting his friend over the phone attached to the dash as Danny turned down the music.

The minute Danny laid eyes on his best friend on the screen over facetime all the emotions he had been holding back pushed their way through the wall he built.

It was good though, it was what he needed. He needed to get it all out before he pulled into the parking lot of his school and had to face Roy. No.

Mr Haylock.

From now on their relationship was strictly teacher/student. Nothing else.

He had decided that while taking a bath day 2 of his wallowing. It was too painful to return to school where he’d have to face his former love especially in the same place that he had found his love with the man he hated most in the world.

Raja Gemini. Fuck his real name, the less he knew of this queen the better.

He couldn’t continue his depression fueled mini vacation for too long though. His mom had caught on to his fake illness being well, fake, and forced him back to school after apparently one of his teachers called.

She even sweetend the deal by letting him use her car while she was away with Jerry for the weekend to a wedding for one of Jerry’s cousins or something. He honestly wasn’t paying attention.

Like an aimless zombie wandering through the house anything someone told him went in one ear and straight out the other thanks to his liquified brain.

He didn’t want to think, about anything. About school, about music, about weddings - everything led back to Roy. And Roy was the one topic too excruciatingly painful to ever think of.

“I can actually.” Danny retorted in a very ‘matter of fact’ tone pulling up to a stop sign.

“You know you’re just being a total cliched Libra and avoiding conflict right? But you’ll need to suck it up and just do it sooner or later.” Dammit why did Chris have to be right.

“He’s a Cancer.” Danny added softly hoping if he could change the topic to astrology Chris would let it go. Which he didn’t.

“So he’s feeling even more shitty than you then!”

“Maybe.” He was right. Again. “I’m hanging up on you.”

“Why? Because I’m totally right?” Chris shook his head with his lips pursed to the side in Danny’s usual chola manner.

“Totally.” He scoffed.

“What about a little bit of revenge?” Chris offered taking a big sip from the long skinny straw of his Starbucks.

Spoken like a true Sagittarius, if he was Chris he’d had already forgotten about Roy and moved on. Maybe he should think like a Sagittarius once in a while though? So what? Roy obviously didn’t care about him?

“Go on?”

“Yay.” Chris eagerly clapped his hands like an excited school girl. “Okay so you’re going with that Dan guy tomorrow night right?”

‘Ugh gross.’ He internally rolled his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“First of all, he got a nice ass?” Chris’ smile grew and he wiggled his eyebrows making Danny laugh for the first time in days.

“You’re such an ass whore! Oh my god!” He squealed before throwing a dirty look at someone in a red convertible cutting past him.

“Am not! Danny!” Chris’s smile fell into a very offended look as he drew Danny’s name out in a long whine. “I’m emotionally charged to their eyes. You know that I’m not like that.”

“She’s emotionally charged to that ass.”

“Whatever. Babe…it’s fucking obvious though. Maybe like flirt a little with Dan, make it look all cute with him and totally get back at Professor ‘two birds one dick’.”

He couldn’t, no way. He didn’t even like Dan he just exuded cockiness that was a total turnoff for anyone with eyes. No way.

And Roy…he couldn’t hurt Roy. Oh god, here comes that all too familiar heavy chest feeling. The pulling in his heart yearning for Roy causing his eyes to water up again.

He missed him. Life without him just felt so empty, so worthless.

He shook his dangerous downward spiral off and hung up on his friend blowing him a kiss first as pulled into a parking spot next to Aaron.

‘Fuck my life, fuck it hard.’ He sighed to himself spotting an all to familiar milky brunette standing with the others.

“You are so beautiful I could die, especially when you’re singing like ugh, your voice is just to die for.” Dan rambled on, trapping Danny with his arms on either side of his shoulders against his locker.

“Uh…thanks, man.” He nervously smiled. His mother raised him better, if you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all.

Oh but he really, really wanted to say something.

“Yeah like it just speaks to me you know.” Dan leaned his head down closer towards him, clearly not picking up on the obvious hint that he did not want to kiss him as he was backing up further into the painted metal locker.

“Like really, really speaks to me.” He breathed his disgusting warm breath against his lips sending icky chills down Danny’s spine right before their lips made contact.

‘Roy. Roy. Roy…’ The name kept repeating in his mind hoping if he chanted it enough he’d magically summon his knight in shining slacks.

Sure enough he did.

‘Oh no.’ His plan backfired when he suddenly saw how this would look from Roy’s perspective.

He had found Roy hugging his friend I mean that’s nothing compared to this right? One thing was for shit sure. Roy catching him pressed up against a locker with his hands tightly gripping each side of Dan’s jacket to try and push him off as Dan pressed his thigh between his legs definitely was not going to look good.

‘Roy.’ He tried silently calling him back when all the older man did was turn in another direction with an expressionless face. He could feel the tears bubbling up again from seeing the man he loved so hollow. ‘Roy, please.’

The drive there was such an unsure haze Roy was amazed he actually pulled into the right 7-11 parking lot or into a 7-11 at all. He must’ve broken at least 50 laws getting there but fuck it, he made it.

He saw Danny pacing with his arms crossed furiously clutching each side of the opposite bicep. Only taking a break from his pacing to take a long drag from his half burnt out cigarette.

“Daniel!” He jumped out of his car running towards him. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

Before he got too close Danny spotted him, turning in his direction as what seemed like a well of never ending tears came flooding out. “Fuck you!”

“Yeah,” He snorted nodding. “You said that already what else is new?” Roy’s sorrow and fear was slowly turning into rage.

Why was he being this douche? This wasn’t like him at all, this wasn’t the Danny he knew or fell in love with. He wasn’t ever hostile, he was sweet and caring and sure he was feisty but at least within reason.

“Is that really why you called me here? To tell me to go fuck myself? Really queen?”

“No! It wasn’t.” Danny threw his cigarette away and stomped towards Roy, catching him off guard by grabbing hold of each side of his beautifully dimpled cheeks with his ice cold lanky fingers. His glossy hazel eyes staring directly into his soul. “I fucking hate you, I hate you Roy.”

“Then why call me.” Roy’s voice cracked, he was trying to put on the most put together facade all week but he couldn’t. He was a mess.

Even more now knowing that Danny, who had clearly moved on, was holding him like this for presumably the last time. Just this skin on skin contact he so longed for threw the armor he had built up right out the window.

“Because I was scared and alone and fucked up and the only person I wanted to be with was you…” Danny let go of him and turned, walking away from him to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“Well you have a fucking hell of a way of showing it. It’s been a week and you won’t even answer my calls? What the fuck?”

What was this? Heartbreak? Anger? Loss? Everything crashing down on him all at once in such a muddled mess he couldn’t even recognize what he was feeling.

“Like you really even cared.”

Roy shook his head and turned around to head back to his car. Fuck this. Halfway to his escape he stopped dead in his tracks, he needed to know one last thing.

“Why didn’t you call…It. That thing you were sucking face with.” There it was. The last nudge that pushed him straight into blind rage.

He said it was such a strained voice that it completely rattled Danny’s entire world.

Clearly having struck a nerve Roy watched Danny’s pale expression turn bright red. “Oh! Oh! You’re one to fucking talk!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Open relationship remember. You know,” Danny pulled another cigarette somewhere out of his military jacket’s pocket. “You always do this, ever since the hotel room even, even before that you lead me on and then, of course because I’m so fucking stupid, I fall for you! And then you just break my heart moving on without ever really giving a fuck about me, huh?”

“You are fucking stupid, Danny!” Roy shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping it would make Danny’s bullshit ramblings stop so he could finally speak.

“Fuck you!” Danny screamed loud enough that probably even the family of four trying to eat their dinner in China heard. “And fuck Raja!”

“Raja? Raja!? This is about Raja!” He probably looked like a fucking lunatic when he suddenly threw his arms in the air in defeat as he started laughing. “Danny…Raja is even dumber than you are!”

“Oh thanks I feel so loved.” Danny rolled his eyes lighting the cigarette he just pulled out. “You’re so fucking selfish you know that? No wonder you’re alone…oh wait, you’re not! You have Raja! You’ve had Raja all along!”

“You ignorant fucking brat!” Roy took a step closer furiously gesturing with his hands ready to wrap his fingers around Danny’s pulsing neck.

“Tell me I’m wrong then! Tell me I wasn’t just some young side meat you wanted to use any way that suited you to cheer up your pathetic little life.”

‘This. Fucking. Bitch.’ Roy thought being left speechless simply standing there staring at him.

If only he knew how much his words were hurting him, how much every snarl was like an jab straight through his chest.

Actually he knew exactly how painful his words were, even saying them hurt Danny. Having to resort to yelling and screaming at the man he loved when the only thing he wanted to do was be held by him. It was killing him.

Rotting him slowly to the core, destroying everything left of him every time Roy clapped back.

“You are so fucking wrong!” He gave up with a sigh, dropping his hands defeatedly to his side. ”You want to know why? Get it in the car.”

Roy walked back to his Mercedes opening the passenger side for Danny first and furiously pointing at the seat. “In, Noriega!”

‘Is he being serious? Get in his car? Fuck no.’ Danny continued his internal freak out.

Pondering if this was some kind of rouse to lure him into his car to pull a bad 80’s gangster movie inspired stint and drive him to a deserted location to murder him. Especially now after their little verbal sparring match.

Reluctantly Danny stomped to the car as if his boot clad feet had a of life of their own, mumbling something about hating his treacherous body for betraying him like this as he slumped into the elegant black car.

Roy’s hands holding the steering wheel with such a tight vice grip his tan knuckles turned white.

He should’ve known it would be Raja that was at the bottom of this mess wether he knew it or not.

He had to repeatedly remind himself of his friend’s good intentions and how he’d been there to help him otherwise he probably would’ve strangled him with as much ferocity as he was gripping his wheel.

If he had just fucking killed Raja like he had promised years ago, but no. He just had to grow a heart and give that little amazing, kind hearted weasel a chance to burrow himself a comfy little home.

“Raja! Raven!” Roy stormed in backstage, all the queens still at their tables painting their faces jumping up in unison like one fucked up Mexican wave when he threw the door open.

“Is everything okay? Where’s Danny? Is he…” Raja followed Roy’s pointing and spotted the awkward teen standing outside against the car’s door and ran towards him. “Danny! Hi! Listen I can completely explain everything, okay.”

“Why am I here?” Danny looked over to Roy with a very annoyed expression.

“Because you got into my car, despite your whole ‘I hate you’ speech. So It’s either because you want to kill him that badly or me. Which is it?”

“Neither…” Danny’s rage seemed to have dwindled and the teen was left looking down at his hands, fiddling with his nails’ chipped paint. “I didn’t, I told you I was alone and just needed you.”

Through his earlier rage blinding him Roy had completely missed all the signs. His disheveled make up that was running down his flushed cheeks, his brightly colored vomit stained pants, the bruised knuckles slowly turning blue and purple…

“It was your party.” He thought out loud. Roy’s harsh tone now gone as he hesitantly stepped closer, as if carefully approaching a wounded animal. “Danny…where’s Dan? What happened?”

“Chris didn’t show up like he was supposed to and…Dan, he’s been like really I don’t know. He’s super gross. He like stalked my YouTube page and he wanted to keep making out but never actually talk to me. So when he tried making a move earlier I punched him.” He shivered at the memory with his eyes still on his hand examining the bruising around his knuckles, flinching when he tried wiggling his little finger. “And then I called you.”

“Why me? Why if you hate me so much did you call me?” Roy was now right in front of him looking up into those beautiful, still puffy eyes.

“I don’t hate you.” He admitted with a croak before the tears from earlier resumed. “But you shouldn’t be with him. I hate you because you’re with him! Not me! It should be me!”

There it was. They say once you name something you give it power.

Now it made sense.

He had given his greatest fear the chance to escape and outed it to the world and now there was absolutely no going back. The realization that Roy was no longer his leaving him an empty shell of what he once was.

Roy stepped closer quickly grabbing he sobbing boy just as he collapsed into the same broken mess he had been just a day earlier.

Holding him tightly keeping said shattered shell together, his toned arms around him being the only comfort Danny would ever need again

“It is you. It’s only you, it’s never been anyone else but you…” Roy shushed him holding him tightly caressing his head with his fingers tangled between the messy dark brunette mop.

“But I saw…” He looked up at Raja, the incredibly tall queen still standing by the back door of the club clutching her pearls.

“But you didn’t think.” Raja intervened with an almost motherly voice.

“Raj,” Roy spoke up with the most composed tone he’s managed all night shaking his head. “Not now.”

Raja nodded with a faint smile and went back into the club, leaving the pair alone once again.

“Come on, back in the car.” Roy ordered reaching behind Danny to open the door for him.

“Alright. Let’s get you cleaned up first and then we’ll talk about this okay? Sound like a plan?” Roy clapped his hands together as if he was addressing his class.

He had brought Danny back to his apartment so they’d have a safe space to discuss everything, hopefully calmer than earlier.

At least if things did get as vocal as in the parking lot they wouldn’t have to worry about breaking anything, Roy already took care of that earlier and swept the proof under the rug.

“Yeah.” Danny nodded with a whisper. He was dead silent the whole ride home, not once even acknowledging Roy or where he was bringing him.

The older never even pushed him to open up either, instead he just held his shaking hand in his rubbing the back of it lazily with his thumb. He knew all to well that once you opened that flood gate and had to verbalize your feelings you had to relive them.

Even just thinking about the torment Danny must’ve been in to make that big of a scene nearly drove Roy down the same deep pit. He wouldn’t wish reliving that despair on anyone let alone the broken boy he loved with every fibre of his being.

“What time does your mother expect you home?” Roy looked at his watch.

“Out of town. A cousin’s wedding or something with my stepdad.”

“Alright then.” Roy nodded. He flicked on the small bathroom’s fluorescent light and all the memories of the first time they did this came flooding making his heart ache as soon as he hid. “Bath or shower?”

“Bath.” Danny cocked his head in the tub’s direction and took off his jacket as Roy turned to put the water on, being quicker than him though he stopped him by grabbing his hand. “Don’t.”

He wasn’t ready to be without Roy yet even just for a bath. He’d been without him far too long and he physically couldn’t take any more of it.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Roy smiled walking up to the young man who was drawing him closer by the hand.

When they were only an inch or two apart Danny leaned forward, cupping Roy’s ever so slightly stubbled face to pull him in for a very feeble, shakey kiss.

This was it. This was what he needed, what they both needed to finally ease all that anguish.

Slowly Roy’s hands found their way to Danny’s hips, pulling their bodies closer as the intensity of their kissing grew. Their lips parting to eagerly take in more of the other.

Danny’s hands snaked down from his face to the bottom of his tight grey shirt feeling at every inch of Roy’s flat stomach at they did, breaking their kissing for only a second as he flung it off over Roy’s head.

“I missed you…” He breathed into Roy’s mouth just as the older was repeating the same thing with his shirt.

“I missed you too, so much you don’t even know.” He quickly slid his hands into the back of Danny’s tights and into his briefs to feel down his round ass, pulling both his pants and his underwear down swiftly in the process as Danny guided them back.

His now more stable hands fidgeting between them working on unbuckling Roy’s jeans so he could finally be his again.

When Roy’s back hit the bathroom wall with a quiet thud he spun them around and reached for his medicine cabinet next to Danny’s head.

Danny, with his palm flattened against the wall, stretched his arm around taking Roy’s growing erection in his other hand becoming impatient as he jerked him off slowly through his boxers.

Roy’s hand, just as impatient as his partner’s, dug between the bottles and miscellaneous lotions while his mouth explored the back of Danny’s neck. Peppering gentle kisses along the smooth skin till he found the small half full bottle of lube.

Once he heard the pop of the plastic cap flicking open Danny clumsily hooked his fingertips into the waistband and slid Roy’s boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. Roy wasted no time in squirting a heavy amount of thick clear lube onto himself. Meanwhile Danny reached the hand previously jerking him off up around to hold onto Roy’s neck, pulling his lips back against his skin as Roy lowered his knees to enter Danny easier.

With his hands on Danny’s somewhat curvy hips Roy gradually inserted himself into his tight young asshole. Hearing the low whimper escaping between gritted teeth from the younger pinned between him and the wall.

“Ow…ow ow.” Danny quickly bit his bottom lip to avoid the involuntary cries suddenly coming out of his mouth. He knew tensing up would make this unnecessarily more difficult than it needed to be but the ice cold lube unexpectedly against his entrance made him flinch, not helped that he had forgotten how much Roy actually stretched him.

Roy felt Danny’s body tensing up further, his asshole tightly clenching around him making entering him any further nearly impossible without hurting him. He quickly moved his hands to Danny’s chest. Holding onto his non-existent pecs feeling his heartbeat racing against his fingertips.

“Sh, I got you, baby.” He soothed Danny with another kiss on his neck till the younger relaxed, his hands joining Roy’s holding onto them as the older started his steady thrusting.

He could tell by the sincerity in his sweet nothings the older meant it - he had him and without hesitation he’d protect him as he had done so many times before.

A light bulb went off in the back of his muddled mind, illuminating the one thing that’s been so clear all along but hidden beneath layers and layers of doubt and fear.

“I love you…I love you…” Danny started softly chanting, breathing it out in time with every new thrust Roy made.

The three simplest words that he’d been yearning for finally spoken. Roy hadn’t anticipated what an earth shattering impact they’d have on him but here they were.

He knew without a shred of doubt he’d give up everything in a heartbeat for this boy, throw away everything he was just to hear those 3 words every day for the rest of his life.

Roy let go of Danny’s torso and with his hands on the wall each side of the younger he gradually pulled himself out.

Grabbing the condom that he’d forgotten from the tall box he accidentally knocked over earlier in his hunt for lube he spun Danny around.

Kissing him deeply as his hands trailed down his sides to his backside and with a firm grip on his soft cheeks he picked him up.

Not a good idea with his bruises but who cared, nothing in that moment mattered except Danny. It was all he could focus on. The love of his life he so nearly lost. Might still lose…

With Danny’s long legs wrapped around his waist as they walked down the hall to the bedroom they were already in the perfect position when Roy went to sit down on edge of the bed.

Muscle memory took over as he slipped the condom on as speedily as he could without needing to look while their lips remained locked. Hungrily searching for comfort in each other.

“I love you too…” Roy breathed out when Danny pulled back from their kissing, biting his lip again to avoid any involuntary responses slipping out this time he lowered back down onto Roy’s waiting cock.

Maintaining silent eye contact with his fingertips gently on either side of Roy’s jaw Danny started steadily rolling his hips. Each testing the other person’s declaration of love, waiting to see if either would run.

“I love you, Danny.” Roy repeated his words even fainter this time.

This was it, this was real. Roy really loved him. Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain real. Sid and Nancy real. Sacrificing himself without any hesitation real.

He loved Roy and Roy loved him. It was the only certainty between them.

With Danny’s fingers intertwined behind Roy’s neck, their kissing grew intenser, deeper as did their movements. Roy soon feeling down his back leaving a trail of goosebumps behind he reached down to hold onto his ass guiding his every steady move.

Nothing about there interactions were rushed or had the usual roughness of their previous encounters, they were smooth and intimate.

The gentle touches of their hands and lips lingering wherever they made contact, savoring this deeply personal cathartic moment.

Even when Danny picked up the pace of his hips, the slapping of their bodies and the crinkling of Roy’s pants still halfway down his thighs remained drowned out by their soft grunts and moans.

Their bodies saying everything they had hoped to say without either ever having to utter a single word.

Soon Danny’s head lifted exposing the tender flesh of his neck stained red from arousal, his lips pressed against Roy’s furrowed damp forehead. “More…please, give it to me…more.”

The hands gripping his ass moved back up and Roy’s arms snaked their way around his back, enveloping his small frame to pull them as close as physically possible.

His hips thrusting up faster to meet Danny’s now hurried riding, the moans escaping Danny’s lips growing more strained as the petite chest pressed against Roy’s rose and fell quicker.

Roy’s head nuzzled against Danny’s collarbone, biting into the delicate, tender flesh to muffle his grunting. This was definitely going to leave a mark but so be it, let it. Let the world know that he was his.

“…oh…shi…” Danny’s body starting trembling in Roy’s grip, a hot load of cum shortly after following shooting out between them onto Roy’s chest. The sticky, pale white liquid leaking down his body to the bruise around his gut.

Roy eased up on his hips’ movements to allow Danny to ride his orgasm out at his own pace but the younger never let up.

“Don’t stop…” He breathed out “…more…”

Ceasing his teeth’s gnawing into his collar Roy moved his lips up to trial kisses up his lover’s pulsing, heated neck to his jaw. The tenderness in which his lips worked a striking contrast to harshness of his black nails digging into Danny’s sides.

The grip of Danny’s skinny arms still around his neck growing tighter with every smack of their bodies as did the coil in his abdomen.

This was how Roy wanted to die, right here lost in Danny’s arms forever.

“Baby…” Roy warned and Danny picked up the pace for him, increasing the intensity in which he rode him to bring him closer to his desperately needed release.

“…give it to me, babe.” Danny encouraged.

With a final deep, almost painful groan Roy climaxed, clinging as tightly possible onto the body between his arms scared of falling apart if he did.

“Sorry.” Danny finally spoke when Roy climbed into the white porcelain bathtub sitting down behind him.

They were seated in the deliciously warm water that filled the tub to the brim with bubbles. Roy behind Danny against the back of the tub with Danny securely between his legs leaning forward with his hands resting under the water on his shins.

“For?” Roy asked putting his messily tangled hair into a bun at the top of his head, wiping away any stray strands of hairs to kiss along the small hickey forming on his neck.

“Everything I said…” Danny looked down ashamed of what he shouted during their fight, lifting his hands to now run them up and down along Roy’s spread thighs on either side of him.

He felt mortified that they ever even had such an argument, it was good to get everything out and in the open but not like that. Not in that ugly manner.

“Don’t be.” Roy’s hands slid down Danny’s shoulders to the ones on his thighs. “I don’t blame you, I deserved it. You had your heart broken because I’m an actual fucking idiot and you’re right, I was selfish.”

The guilt of everything he’d put the younger through with his overthinking slowly gnawing away at him forcing him to face his greatest fear, himself, and apologize. Swallowing every last bit of pride he had to do it.

“You weren’t.” Danny shook his head.

“No I was. I shouldn’t have just been so quick to dismiss you because of my own stupid insecurities, I should’ve listened. If I had known earlier that those idiots tried that shit I wouldn’t have asked you to leave like that.” As he spoke Danny leaned back, his back now against Roy’s well toned chest and his head in his shoulder. The skin on skin contact even more soothing than the water. “I did want you to stay, I really did, but I didn’t want you to be miserable here with me when you’d rather be with your friends.”

“Fuck my friends.” Danny scoffed, titling his head back so he could look up at Roy asking silently for a small kiss.

“You don’t mean that.” Roy rested his temple against Danny’s when his head returned to it’s previous spot in the nook of Roy’s collar.

“I do. Jay heard Dan likes me and invited him to my party, but he thought getting invited was some kind of, like, I don’t know…me asking him out and then Chris told me to give you a taste of your own medicine and fucking show him off or something.” He scrunched his face up in disgust at the memory. “So fuck them all, hope they all get some kind of STD.”

Roy laughed at his shady ass comment and wrapped on arm under Danny’s arm to drape it over his chest with his hand on Danny’s shoulder like a seatbelt shielding him from any further harm. Physical or emotional.

“Alright then. Where even is this great Chris? You said he didn’t show?”

Danny trailed his hand along the arm over him to distract himself as the sudden intense longing for his friend hit him.

“He didn’t, his grandma got sick and he’s super attached so he stayed behind.” He hooked the fingers of his other hand between Roy’s and lifted their now clasped together hands, examining his bruised knuckles. “Dan…”

“Milk.” Roy interrupted. Fuck he hated that kid. He wasn’t worthy of the same name as his love or anything better than the absurd nickname he had dubbed him. “Fuck him too, he can get an especially nasty STD.”

“Asshole.” Danny laughed, making Roy’s heart flutter. “He’s such a gross ass kisser though. He fucking tried to grope me, man. So I punched his ass.”

“Atta boy!” Roy praised proudly and brought the clasped together hands to his lips to gave each purple and red knuckle a gentle kiss careful to not hurt him. “But this might be fractured, I’ll take you to the doctors tomorrow if it’s worse.”

“Okay.” Danny sighed. Time to face the inevitable. Like a bandaid. “So what’s the deal with you and Raja, honestly? Why did you take me to see him?”

“Oh that.” Roy laughed. “I actually wanted to introduce you to Raven, you remember her right? About Raja’s height, tan, heavy ass make up with that silicone face.”

“Yeah I think so why?” Danny thought back to their New York trip together where he met a Raven.

Roy raised their hands up in front of Danny’s confused face again and playfully wiggled his ring finger. “That’s his husband you dumb bitch.”

“Oh…” Danny felt his cheek growing every shade of red imaginable and started sinking lower into the warm bubbly water. It was the only alternative to hiding his head in the dirt from embarrassment like an ostrich who was just caught with his pants down.

Roy picked up on his attempted evasiveness and pulled him back up laughing at his cartoonish blushing face.

He swaddled Danny with both his arms now around his chest, even the one still holding onto his. “You’re so precious when you’re all stupid.”

“Hey.” Danny pouted looking up at him again, his heart dropping when he saw Roy’s expression falling again.

“He actually tried going after you too to apologize for him and Shane giving you the dad speech to try and scare you.”

“They did?” Danny got a sinking feeling in his chest for not seeing through their tough guy act from the beginning. If he had this whole situation could’ve been avoided. He was usually so in tune with people’s energies why did he miss it?

“What you thought you saw at school was Raja feeling like horse shit and coming back to apologize for what he did after I cut him off.”

The memory of Danny’s upset face when he looked up at them flashing through his mind’s eye.

“You did? Why?”

“They were trying to be smart asses and instead they ended up hurting you. I don’t want anyone in my life who’s going to hurt you regardless of who they are.” Roy’s voice got low.

Danny stretched his neck up to kiss Roy as a thank you, like a princess kissing a knight after he rescued her from some great evil.

This guy really genuinely cared about him. How that was even reality absolutely stunned Danny. “I love you.”

Roy’s face lit up at the words, the way he said them in his sweet voice only adding to the butterflies in his stomach.

“I love you too.” He returned the kiss with another drawn out one. “And don’t worry I don’t think they’ll try it again.”

He reached for the hamper next to them with the grey bottle of body wash Danny had bought him on it.

“They won’t?” Danny rested his head back in it’s spot and kissed Roy’s neck.

“Nope.” Roy splashed some of the warm water over Danny’s chest before squirting the soapy charcoal colored liquid onto him. “Totally kicked their asses.”

“Legit.” Danny nodded impressed with Roy defending his honor so gallantly. Purring as Roy’s hands went about massaging the soap onto his skin. “Can I stay the night?”

Roy smiled kissing his temple. “Sure, baby.”

“Hey. Can I go through your music?”

“Yeah, sure.” After their bath and impromptu make out session as they were drying off Danny’s stomach starting growling uncontrollably loud.

Thus Roy promptly went to work making them each something to eat as the younger explored the house.

“What happened to your tv?” Danny shouted from the living room while Roy was reading the instructions on the back of a frozen pizza box he found in his freezer.

“Uh…nothing.” He panicked.

‘I broke it.’ He thought remembering how he threw one of his books at it in a fit of rage over seeing Danny with another.

“Mh-hm.” Danny came back into the kitchen a moment later with his lips pursed and the slow piano intro of Placebo’s Running Up That Hill following him.

Roy turned on the oven to preheat it and turned back to Danny walking over to him just in time for him to come up to him surprising him with a hug. Holding onto him tightly with his chin on his shoulder.

It doesn’t hurt me. Do you want to feel how it feels? Do you want to know that it doesn’t hurt me? Do you want to hear about the deal that I’m making?

There were no words, just the couple embracing each other tightly making up for lost time as the song continued playing around them.

With everything now explained calmly thanks to the relaxing high of both their amazing moment of intimacy and the long hot bath things could go back to normal.

Not entirely normal. After declaring their love for each other probably nothing would ever be normal again.

That was a future Roy’s problem to deal with though. The absolutely only concern on present Roy’s mind was engraining every little detail of their domestic bliss with his arms around the guy he loved swaying to a song he loved into it.

It was as if the man he was 48 hours ago no longer existed, Danny had completely stripped every fear, every worry, every negative thought from his mind and replaced it with images of them laughing like children wrapped in towels making bubble beards.

His doctor had been right, he might’ve been talking about his bruises but it fit the context so let’s go with it.

It had to get worse before it could get better.

And sure when things did get worse they were just plain disastrous, I’m talking hurricane Katrina level disastrous. Nonetheless in the end it was all worth it a million times over.

You, it’s you and me. And if I only could, I’d make a deal with God, And I’d get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building… “Roy?” Danny finally spoke interrupting his peaceful thoughts.

“Hm?”

You don’t want to hurt me, But see how deep the bullet lies. Unaware I’m tearing you asunder…

“I’m dropping out…”

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