#it’s only happened a few times but every single time it’s happened it was when i missed stream

[klaus-littlestwolf]

No Matter What- Aemond T.

Aemond is in love, and he refused to allow his nephew to have her. He will take her from Jacaerys by any means necessary.

Am I just going to keep writing my fics as if Season 2 didn’t happen at all?

Yeah…it’s very likely, yes🤣🤣

Also, for the person that DM’d me and asked if I have a name in mind for Y/n when I write for Aemond, yes. In my mind when I write, her name is Rhaella, I just think it’s the most beautiful Targaryen name I’ve heard. I also love Visenya but I feel it’s overused. The only other name I would potentially use would be Saera.

She was surprised by her Uncles attitude from the moment she first saw him again.

Y/n and Aemond had been best friends in their childhood. She had climbed onto the back of the Grey Ghost when she was only 5 years old (most people believing that the Dragon knew they were the same when it came to how shy and avoidant they were).

They hadn’t been close up until that point, only being 5 and 6 years old and both being outcasts among their family (though she almost preferred it that way). Y/n had offered to take Aemond with her flying one night after Aegon, Jace and Luke had ridiculed him again and he actually agreed, resting his hand on the nose of a dragon for the first time as Y/n calmed him. Climbing into the saddle and holding onto his niece had been awkward and a bit embarrassing until they were in the air and Aemond knew he was truly born for this.

From then on Y/n offered to take him with her quite often, always after their brothers had bullied one of them again. She comforted him, even once letting Aemond take the reigns and fly Ghost himself (which the pale dragon didn’t like at all sadly and only lasted a few moments), but the fact that she had done it meant the world to him. He promised to take Y/n with him on his dragon as soon as he mounts one, wanting desperately to impress her.

Aemond was Obsessed

Their friendship lasted like that for almost 4 years before that horrible night when Aemond was attacked by her brothers. He had been so excited to tell her about Vhagar, he had actually been running inside to wake her and take her flying like he promised when he was cut off.

She had held his hand from the moment she ran in, trying to comfort him as much as she was able until her mother pulled her away. Aemond raged when she was dragged away from his side but he was held down by Criston Cole from trying to take his Princess back, Daemon carrying the 9 year olds squirming body out and away from him.

As they all left the next morning he tried to find her, Rhaenyra glaring at him as he searched the courtyard and he knew her mother hadn’t let her come and say “goodbye”…that night was the last time he saw her for almost 9 years…

It was the worst thing Rhaenyra could have done. She had made her younger brother desperate, and desperate men do desperate things…he would have her back. No Matter What.

Aemond dreamed about nothing but his niece every single day after, determined to make her his despite the fact that her mother would never betroth her to him. He knew the only way he could make her his wife was to take her and make it the only option, Alicent would most definitely force their wedding very quickly rather than watch the only “legitimate” grandchild of her husband (other than his brother and sisters 3 children) carry a child unwed (as she was Daemons daughter “secretly” but could at least be passed off as not being Harwin Strongs).

When he finally saw her again he felt his breath stolen from his body, she was stunning, the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. A women now, standing just shorter than Jace as she watched him in his training session with Cole. Aemond fought hard, determined to show her what he had become and he quickly ended the fight with his sword at his trainers throat.

‘Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.’

Aemond rolled his eyes at that. ‘I don’t give a shit about tourneys…nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned, looking over the both of them before making eye contact with Y/n who blushed heavily as he did. ‘Niece. It is a pleasure to lay eyes on you again…and you are truly a sight to behold.’ He stepped closer, shoving himself between the Strongs to take her hand in his, lifting it to his lips and looking into her lovely purple eyes. Aemond was comforted to see no fear or disgust on her face, but her beautiful blush was something he wanted to see forever. ‘You are just as gorgeous as I imagined you to be.’ He whispered, leaning close to her ear.

‘Thank you Uncle. You have become ever more handsome, a man grown. The ladies must be fighting tooth and nail for your affections.’ She teased, however before he could respond and insist that he wanted no affections but her own, her bastard brother snatched her hand from his.

‘I would thank you to keep your hands to yourself Uncle, my betrothed should not be touched by anyone but me.’ Jace spoke with a smirk on his face. Anyone with eyes knew Aemond had always been in love with Y/n and his nephew was smug to be able to take any kind of happiness away from him as he always had done.

Aemond composed himself immediately, smiling down at him kindly but Jace could see the rage in his eye, the silent threat that he was giving being clear. ‘I suppose congratulations are in order then.’ And though he said it, he gave none before smiling at Y/n who was then pulled in the opposite direction and out of the courtyard.

‘I do not want to see him touching you again, do you understand me?’ Jace demanded as they got into the castle, Y/n pulling her hand from his angrily.

‘You are not yet my husband brother, don’t you dare order me as if you are. I still have plenty of time to tell mother I would rather be betrothed to anyone but you and that Baela can be Queen by your side one day. I am not an object for you to take possession of!’ And with that she stormed off, Aemond around the corner having heard the whole thing. He knew exactly how to get his girl to be his…though he doubted it would be hard with how his nephew treated his Queen.

‘You should be kinder to your future Queen-‘

‘She is mine, whether she likes it or not. I am to be the King one day, she cannot refuse me.’ Jace joked with Luke who snorted, Aemond turning and leaving the hall. Y/n was his future wife, no matter what he had to do to make sure of it.

After the horrific meeting to attempt to give Driftmark to anyone but Luke he was sadly reestablished as heir thanks to the King and Aemond found himself in a bit of trouble with everyone at dinner after calling his nephews Strong.

All of them were sent to their chambers and he hightailed it back to her chamber, slipping in before his niece and her guard arrived, hiding behind the wardrobe in case anyone came in with her.

‘I am tired Jacaerys, all I want is a good, long sleep. Just leave me be for the night, I will not answer you if you come back! I need no protection from you!’ She snapped as the door opened.

‘If Aemond-‘

‘Aemond is not here! And now you are not here either, go to your own chambers and give me a night of peaceful sleep after all of this Bullshit!’ She slammed the door, locking it instantly and Aemond could feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Something about hearing her reject Jace was a turn on for him in a major way and he wanted to mark her neck up with as many bite marks as possible, he needed to show his nephew who his Princess truly belonged to.

‘That was impressive.’ Aemond spoke, seeing her nearly jump a foot in the air as she gasped. ‘Apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you…I just wanted to see you. I knew your betrothed would not allow you even a moment in my presence.’ Her eyes were slit instantly as he said this.

‘Jace thinks he can control me but I will not let myself be that kind of wife! I am not an object to be owned, to be ordered around in front of his friends to make him look like a strong man or King! I do not want to be his wife or his Queen!’ She snapped and Aemond did his best to look at her softly, wanting her to see his empathy and her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. ‘I am so sorry Kepus! You did not deserve that, I am not angry at you. I am so-‘ (Uncle)

‘Breathe Byka Dārilaros…it is alright. I understand how angry he makes you feel, I hate him as well, remember?’ He teased and she chuckled before stepping forward and not hesitating to wrap her arms around his body, resting her head on his chest. (Little Princess)

‘I missed you so much Kepus…I wanted to write to you but my mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was a betrayal to Luke and that since you didn’t write to me, you clearly wouldn’t care but I-‘

‘I did write to you. I sent letters for months before I received one from my sister telling me to stop, that you did not want to hear from me but I knew that was a lie . There was not a single day that passed that I did not think about how much I missed you…’ Aemond looked down at her, his arms around her to hold her to him, hesitating only a moment as he looked into her soft eyes and pressed his lips to hers.

She surprised him a bit when she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, her hands moving to hold his shirt tightly as he took her face into his and held her close. Y/n was his everything and he had been craving for this exact moment since he was 6 years old, wanting to kiss her since the moment they first flew together. She will be his and he will keep her close forever, determined to never let anyone touch what is his ever again-especially Jace.

‘You are so perfect…’ he mumbled against her lips before pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. ‘Do you want this? I don’t want to force you into anything you do not desire, my love…however I want you to be mine. I have craved you for so many years and I will cherish the ground you walk on if you will be mine.’ Aemond knew giving her the choice would make the difference in pushing her to do what she wanted even against her mothers wishes.

‘I love you Kepus, I always have…our mothers will never-‘

‘There is a way…My mother will insist upon it if I have already filled you with my son…’ he tried to speak softly, let her know that it is her choice to make. ‘I love you Byka Dārilaros, and I want you to be my wife more than anything. The thought of being forced to marry another turns my stomach however I will never force myself upon you. If you would marry Jace then I will love you from afar…but if you want me then I will make love to you right here and now. I will pleasure you all night long until you are so full of me there is no doubt you carry my son and then I will sleep inside of your pretty little cunt for our family to find come morning…let me love you in every way that he can’t.’ There were tears in her eyes as he finished speaking to her and he moved to wipe them away before she spoke again. Y/n reached up, taking the eyepatch covering his sapphire into her fingers before he caught her wrist awkwardly. No lady had ever seen his face and not been uncomfortable or disgusted by it which is why he always covered it whenever he wasn’t alone in his room or in the library.

‘I would look upon your face and see all that you are…while you fill me with our first child.’ He looked at her, startled for a moment before he released her hand and she pulled the eyepatch off.

‘First of many…I will fill you with as many children as you desire.’ Aemond promised before kissing her again, his hands moving to the back of her dress where he unlaced the corset and pulled it down her arms, lifting her out of the dress and moving to drop her onto the bed. She pulled off her small clothes as she watched him remove his shirt and breeches, leaving him bare and revealing his hard cock that was already leaking. ‘You are so beautiful, my love…tell me that you’re mine.’ Aemond insisted, his hand giving his member a firm stroke.

‘I’m yours Kepus, all yours forever.’ She promised as he crawled over her, kissing his jaw and down his neck sweetly. She was just so precious he couldn’t help the needy feeling in his chest demanding he take her.

‘All mine! Should any man look at you even a moment too long ever again, I will remove their eyes and feed them to the ravens.’ Aemond pushed her legs apart more so that he could settle between them, feeling her wetness on his cock for the first time and nearly cumming on the spot. He gave her a moment to relax herself upon pushing into her however she shocked him once again, moaning like a whore only a moment later prompting him to shove his hand over her mouth. ‘If someone hears you then your guard will come in here and we will be dragged apart. I would hear your lovely moans forevermore once I’ve filled your cunt but for now you must hush.’ She whined but bit her bottom lip hard to keep from making any loud noises. Aemond loved the knowledge that he could make her moan like that, in love with fucking her body already as he thrust up into her roughly. Her nails dug into his shoulders, scratching down his back painfully which sent a rush of pleasure through his belly upon him sucking hard on her throat, biting into her perfect skin quite hard and covering her mouth with a hand once again as she nearly screamed, her pussy tightening around his cock in a way he had never felt before which practically dragged his own end from his body. ‘Gods be good, I’ve never felt anything like that before…you felt good?’ It was an insecure moment of him needing that reassurance and while with anyone else he would have been instantly embarrassed, she nodded, quite dazed it seemed and he knew she didn’t judge him for a moment. ‘Your cunt is a form of blissful ecstasy I did not know was attainable. You are mine now Y/n…say it…’

‘Yours Aemond…all yours…you will be my husband as soon as next week and you will be able to have me anytime and any place you desire. I never thought it could feel like that…I love you Kepus.’ Her words touched him and in that moment Aemond knew that he would never need anyone else in this world again as long as he had Y/n and their future silver haired babies.

‘I love you too Mandianna, I always have. From this night on they will never be able to steal you from me again! You are all mine Y/n…and I will take pleasure in making sure everyone knows it.’ He made his point as he thrust his hard cock up into her once more prompting her sharp intake of breath, nails digging into his forearms before pulling him down to kiss her. (Niece)

Aemond spent the night filling his future wife with as much of his seed as his body held, biting her perfect pale skin everywhere he could reach and ensuring no one would ever be able to argue who she belonged to again. He finally had what he had always wanted, the only things left to do was put a tiara upon her head and meet their children.

The knock on the door was the thing that awakened the both of them the next morning quite early and far too soon considering how many hours Aemond had spent filling his bride…(6 hours). It was frantic and Aemond groaned, pulling Y/n closer into his chest as he was happy to ignore it before her mother shouted.

‘Y/n! You aren’t at breakfast and neither is Aemond! If he is in there with you…!’ She warned and Aemond found the half threat amusing.

‘Aemond! Are you in there?!’ His mother was the one shouting through the door now and he smiled, kissing his soon-to-be-wife’s lips before responding.

‘Good morning mother!’ He responded.

‘You Little Fuck! If you’ve hurt my daughter I swear to all of the Gods!’ Rhaenyra raged. ‘Daemon! Get This Door Open!’ She demanded.

‘He did not hurt me mother!’ Y/n stated just before the first loud hit to the door causing his girl to scream, turning to hide her face into his neck as he sat up. It took 2 more strikes before the door burst open and their mothers entered along with Daemon and Otto. Y/n was covered up to her waist while her upper body was pressed to his leaving only her back exposed.

‘Aemond! What have you done?’ Alicent asked sadly, clearly trying to think of a solution, knowing there was only one in this situation.

‘You all know that we have loved each other since we were children. Did you think that would go away just because you didn’t give her my letters sister?’ Rhaenyra’s eyes widened before she glared at him in a rage.

‘What is he talking about?’ His mother asked.

‘I didn’t want him speaking to her! She will not marry her Uncle like-‘

‘Like you did?’ Alicent deadpanned making the Princess look to her. ‘She will actually marry her Uncle, from this moment they are betrothed-‘

‘My daughter is already betrothed to-‘

‘Not anymore!’ Otto cut her off. ‘From this moment on the Princess Y/n Velaryon is to be wed to Prince Aemond Targaryen. The wedding will take place at the end of the week, we cannot have anyone knowing of these indiscretions when she begins to show as I am assuming she is likely pregnant?’ He asked Aemond who grinned.

‘Oh, most definitely. I’ve left no doubt that she carry’s my son. I was actually planning on filling her with another one before you so rudely broke the door down-‘

‘Do not push your luck Aemond!’ His Grandsire warned.

‘I should remove your head you insolent little shit.’ Daemon growled, Aemond seeing the rage in his eyes.

‘Then your grandchild would be without a father, Uncle. What purpose would that serve except ensuring your daughter hates you?’ Y/n moved her hand to pinch his side making him jump. ‘I’m sorry Byka Dārilaros.’

Aemond could see the surprise at his apology in his mother and Grandsire’s eyes. ‘Maybe this will be a good thing after all.’ Otto considered before turning to leave the room.

‘No more fooling around. Get dressed and get to breakfast. Now.’ With that his mother guided Rhaenyra and Daemon reluctantly out of the room.

‘Can your husband help you get dressed my love?’ Aemond questioned and she kissed his shoulder before biting his neck as he had done to her about 30 times the previous night, the evidence of which was very clear to see all over her chest and breasts. Aemond was proud though, because while she could hide those the 5 marks on her neck were not able to be hidden before breakfast where he was eager for Jace to see them.

They were both dressed 10 minutes later, their hair staying down until after they broke their fast for the day, Aemond leading her down the halls and enjoying the smile on his girls face as they entered the room with their family. He sat her down beside him and watched her fill her plate and eat, clearly hungry from their previous nights activities which filled him with pride at being able to satisfy his wife.

‘What is that?’ A voice demanded and everyone looked up to see Jace pointing at Y/n’s neck.

‘Jace, we will discuss this after we eat. You-‘

‘No!’ He cut his mother off, jumping up from his seat and moving to Y/n’s side in an instant, yanking her hair to the side and looking at her neck. Aemond heard her whimper in pain as he pulled her hair, holding her chin to expose her throat to him and he was instantly up from his chair with his hands on Jace.

‘That’s Enough!’ Rhaenyra shouted before Aemond punched his nephew who nearly flew backwards at the force his fist caused before he moved to grab him again, a voice calling his name through the jumble of people yelling which had his attention immediately.

‘Come eat with me Kepus, please?’ Y/n asked softly and he couldn’t deny her that as she held her hand out. Aemond moved to take it, lifting her onto his lap and sitting to eat, feeding her and feeling proud at providing her what she needs, thoroughly enjoying her feeding him as well.

It seemed that everyone was shocked at Aemond disengaging from the fight but his attention was on his soon to be wife as it should be. ‘We should go for a morning flight after breakfast…let me take you for a ride as I promised, late as the kept promise may be.’ Y/n looked up at him and he could see her surprise which he found adorable.

‘You…you want me to-to ride Vhagar?’ She questioned and he chuckled.

‘Not alone of course but yes, I had wanted to take you up with me the night I mounted her but that clearly didn’t happen. It will be fun, I promise.’ The smile on his girls face was worth everything to him. She was precious and he would keep his wife happy no matter what. If that meant that his nephews and older sister needed to be un-happy, then that was just icing on the cake for him.

He finally took her flying with him later that day, though it made her own dragon quite grumpy and forced her to take Ghost for his own flight before they could go back home. Aemond had finally kept his promise, and had ensured he got exactly what he wanted in the end.

Now all that is left for Aemond to do is figure out how to make Y/n his Queen and fulfill his dream of his wife riding him on the Iron Throne.

That one may take a bit more work, but he would ensure it, No Matter What.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[luvgavii]

color me jealous - (pg8)

summary: jealous pedri featuring rúben mf dias ;) (model!reader)

dedicated to all the pedri girls <3

You were smiling at your phone while you sipped on the expensive champagne, replaying your Instagram story over and over again, the imagine you posted of the flowers your boyfriend sent to your dressing room before your modelling show never failing to spread a smile to your face. But of course, your happy moment had to be interrupted.

Turning on your heels, a strong scent of perfume met your nose as two arms wrapped tightly around you, the elder woman air kissing your cheeks.

“you were absolutely beautiful up there, y/n!” The lady, one of whom dresses you wore tonight spoke in an elegant voice yet thick accent you could only recognise as french.

“thank you! the dress was beautiful,” you smiled brightly, the woman giving your hands a squeeze, whispering another few rounds of praises before disappearing somewhere in the gallery to mingle with the rest of the stuck up, posh people. You knew you had to join them, but your thoughts were filled with one person only.

You looked around, your eyes scanning every table, every single corner of the big gallery for Pedri, yet you could not spot him anywhere.

A frown crept to your face, a thousand thoughts filling your mind.

‘did he leave early?’

‘why would he leave before coming up to you, kissing you and telling you he’s proud of you?’

‘maybe he had a football emergency?’

‘football emergency this late?’

“I saw Pedri outside taking a phone call a few minutes ago,” the familiar voice of Rúben Dias came from behind you, making your eyes widen as you whipped your head around, meeting Rúben’s warm smile and eyes.

“Rú? What are you doing here?” You asked, a chuckle escaping your lips as you went in to hug the tall man.

Rúben laughed, wrapping his arms around you before speaking, “As if I’d miss out on seeing you on that runway,” his smile could almost reach his ears as he looked down at you.

While any other girl would absolutely melt under Rúben’s eyes, you always made sure to keep a respectful distance, first because you had Pedri who was your person in every possible way and second because you didn’t want to fuel into Rúben’s flirting too much. You were loving the attention, though.

“thank you! I appreciate it,” you smiled, you were happy to see him, the last time you two had hung out was a long time ago when you were modelling in England, but the Man City player always seemed to have some interest in you, even before you started going out with Pedri a few months ago.

You and Rúben have always been friendly, sure, he was always playful flirting with you, but whatever attraction you had felt for the portuguese has quickly disappeared when you met Pedri. As soon as Rúben had posted a picture of the two of you at the gala, arms wrapped around your shoulders as your hand rested on his chest, the fans and media went wild.

It didn’t take long for the fans to figure out where the location of the after party of your modelling agency took place, and while Pedri was on the phone with his manager, he couldn’t help the frown on his face when the fans a few feet away were chanting Rúben Dias’ name.

You met Pedri almost six months ago when your best friend insisted on going to a Barcelona game, and while you didn���t know much about football at the time, your interest was quickly growing when you saw the man who wore number 8. With the help of a friend of a friend, who happened to be married to one of the players, you stuck around long enough to meet them after the game and you and Pedri became inseparable ever since.

He was confused as to why in the world there were people holding Man City jerseys, chanting the name of another football player, until he checked Instagram and saw the photo that was now on every gossip page. People were speculating, asking if you and him had broken up so short after hard launching your relationship and Pedri hated that more than he liked to admit. He hated being in the spotlight with things like these but he hated even more the way Rúben fucking Dias held his arm around you.

Back inside, you were laughing at whatever Rúben had said, your head falling back and your nose scrunching in that adorable way Pedri always said he adores.

Pedri, Pedri, Pedri, Pedri, your mind repeated over and over again.

Your eyes met across the room, his brown eyes softening when your gazes locked. His eyes hid some kind of harshness in them, and you could immediately tell that there was something bothering him, and that something happened to start with an ‘R’ and end with an ‘úben’.

While it was morally wrong to fuel Pedri’s jealousy, you couldn’t help yourself and keeping your boyfriend on his toes wouldn’t hurt.

Your palm pressed against Rúben’s bicep as you leaned up to whisper something in his ear, Pedri’s eye twitching while he watched from afar, wondering what the hell you could’ve said that got Rúben smiling so brightly. He clenched the glass of whiskey harder in his hands until his knuckles turned white and for a second Pedri considered calling Gavi to help him commit murder, knowing his best friend would definitely help dig away the body.

“you’re really trying to tick Pedri off, huh?” Rúben laughed, making you chuckle and making Pedri picture his murder in graphic detail.

“he’s really sweet, I like it when he gets a bit rough and jealous sometimes,” you laughed, shaking your head at Rúben, your eyes meeting the familiar chocolate brown orbs.

“what, like, throw you to the wall rough?” Rúben raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help the smile that spread to his lips.

“no, not like that,” you laughed knowing you were not about to discuss your sex life with Rúben, at the after party of your show.

“mi amor?” you heard the soft, familiar voice calling out for you, both you and Rúben turning to see Pedri.

He looked almost sad, and you couldn’t help the pain in your chest when you saw that disappointed glimmer in your boyfriend’s eyes which was probably because you barely got to see him after the show. The quicky in your dressing room before hitting the runway was good tho.

“can I talk to you for a second?” Pedri dragged his voice, his eyes falling from Rúben to you, not caring how rude the other football player might consider him, “alone.”

You nodded and bid Rúben goodbye, thanking him for coming. Pedri was still a golden retriever, so even if he was slightly pissed off because you paid so much attention to Rúben, he still shook his hand.

“looking forward to that friendly,” Rúben said with a slight tease in his voice, making Pedri clench his jaw, he barely recognized himself, he was never this jealous.

“I’m looking forward to rearranging your jaw—“ Pedri muttered under his breath as you and him walked away, his words caused you to laugh and hit his shoulder.

“can you not? he was nice to you,” you chuckled, stopping in a secluded spot in the gallery.

“by flirting with you all night? damn, we have different definitions for ‘nice’,” Pedri huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

Jealousy, rage and so much love and affection was in them. No matter how much you annoyed him, Pedri never seemed to be able to lash out at you and that was the greenest flag you could think of.

“you did that on purpose didn’t you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when you smiled cheekily, your arms wrapping around his waist and your chin resting on his chest, “you’re so annoying,” Pedri mumbled when he realised all that overly friendly stuff with Rúben was an act.

“you love meee,” you chuckled, laughing at Pedri’s narrowed eyes, knowing he was either plotting your murder or thinking of how to get you back.

His lips curled into a grin, his nose rubbing against yours as he spoke against your lips, “too much, mi estrella.”

[vitalverstappen]

How Do I Do This? - D. Ricciardo

summary: after a public divorce with your ex-husband (not danny), you found yourself learning to try again

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x famous!reader

warnings: mentions of divorce, drinking, swearing

word count: 1.1k

The divorce was messy. There were disputes over literally everything: who got what, how much money both of you got, who kept the dog. And it didn’t help that the media got a whiff of what was happening. Your failing marriage was plastered on every single outlet. 

It was for the best that you hid away from the public for a while. The pieces of you had shattered on the floor, and you needed the time to put yourself back together. 

A few months later, you slowly began putting yourself back in the public eye. Small trips to the coffee shop, out to lunch with some friends, or a smaller awards show. 

During this outing, you found yourself out to lunch with your childhood best friend, Kelly. She had been there through the thick and thin of your marriage, and the resulting divorce. There was nothing about your life that she didn’t know. 

She knew so well that she could tell you were healed, and truth be told, you were. So it was no surprise when a mischievous grin formed on her face. 

“What’s that look for?” You asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be

“Soooo” Kelly started “There’s this guy I know. A good friend of mine.”

“Wow, you have friends other than me. I’m hurt” You joked as you took a sip of your drink. It was obvious what she was hinting at. 

“Yeah, believe it or not” She laughed “But I think they’re your type y/n. His name is Daniel.” 

Kelly flipped her phone around to show you a picture of the man. Dark curly hair, brown eyes, and a charming smile. As much as you hated to admit it, he was your type. 

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms. It had been years since you dated. And honestly, it terrified you having to have a conversation about someone’s favorite color again. It terrified you to have articles written about you again. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready.” You admitted “I can’t even remember what it’s like going on a first date. My last one was back when I was 22.” 

“Oh come on, y/n. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just one date to test the waters. Get yourself back out there.” Kelly explained, “It can be in secret so the tabloids don’t write anything.” 

She was right. The date didn’t have to go anywhere. You could meet the guy, say you weren’t feeling it, and leave it at that. No attachments, no tabloids. 

“Fine,” You sighed, defeated. “Send the guy my number. I am not making the first move.”

You had honestly forgotten about the conversation with your friend. Days had passed and you hadn’t gotten a text from a new number. He probably didn’t want to text you. Or your agent had seen the text and thought it was spam. 

That is until one fateful night, your phone buzzed. 

Unknown: Hey y/n it’s Daniel. Kelly gave me your number

Amused, you picked up your phone. It took him long enough to get the confidence to text you.

You: Hey Daniel. I was starting to think Kelly forgot to lol

Only a few moments passed before your phone buzzed again. Another text from Daniel. 

Daniel: Lol that’s pretty much what happened. How’s your night going?

The two of you engaged in a bit of small talk over text. It was only a matter of time before he pulled the trigger on asking you out. 

Daniel: So I was wondering, are you free Saturday? I know a spot we could go - away from everything. 

Your fingers danced around your keyboard until you finally found a reply. 

You: Yeah I am! 

After rereading the text, you quickly deleted your response. It was just a little too desperate. 

You: Yup, I think so 

Again, you found yourself deleting the message. This time, too nonchalant. At least twenty different replies had to have been typed out before you finally gave up and responded with something simple and straight to the point. 

You: Yes

Immediately, you put your phone down, needing to connect back to your world. It was hard to fathom that you were back in the dating scene. Never did you think you would be back starting at square one. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing once again. 

Daniel: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7

And that’s how you found yourself panicking in your room Saturday evening. An excitement rushed through you that you hadn’t felt in years. It was like your teenage self was coming back to life. You and Daniel had texted off and on leading up, but today was the big day. 

Hours were spent digging through your extensive closet. Nothing that you had picked out seemed to be just right. Eventually, you landed on a little black dress that you hadn’t worn in years. 

Panic flooded your thoughts the entire time you got ready. What if you said something stupid? What if he brought up your divorce? What if it actually goes well?

Your thoughts were cut short when you read the clock: 6:52pm. Eight minutes left. 

You did the only thing you knew would calm your senses. Phone in hand, you called Kelly. One ring was all it took before her face showed up on your screen.

“Hey girl! You look hot!” She said as she picked up. 

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up” You admitted “I don’t know if I can do this” 

“Y/n, yes you can. It’s just a few hours of your life. Daniel’s a sweet guy-”

“Would it be wrong if I took a shot?” You blurted out, eyes on the bottle of vodka that stood on your kitchen counter. 

Through the phone, Kelly stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you need to, Danny’s an easy guy to talk to. But if you think it’ll help, be my guest.” 

Without a second thought, you twisted the cap off of the bottle and took a swig. The liquor burned your throat as you drank, but it was the reality check you needed. You were human, he was human. You’re going to be fine. 

“Better?” Kelly asked as you gagged 

Once you collected yourself, you said, “Better. I gotta go Kels. He should be picking me up any second.” As if on cue, you heard your doorbell ring. “Coming!” 

After one last quick look in the mirror, you found yourself at your door. Daniel was on the other side. This was it. One last inhale, then you opened the door. 

“Hey” Was all you were able to get out. Kelly had shown you photos of Daniel, but none of those could compare to how he looked standing in front of you. 

“Hi” He replied in the same breathy tone you had used only moments prior. A smile spread across his face. “You look amazing”

“So do you” 

Daniel reached out his hand, “M’lady, shall we?” 

Your lips parted into a smile as well as you laced your fingers into his, “We shall”

[sxcret-garden]

Seonghwa & Yeosang ღ Perfect Boys [M]

ღ Ateez Seonghwa x Yeosang x gn!reader ღ words: ~4.3k ღ genre: smut (sub!Seonghwa, sub!Yeosang, dom!reader, Seonghwa and Yeosang are wearing collars with leashes, reader wears a strap, threesome, handjobs, oral, anal (all idols receiving), praise, some degradation, Seonghwa has a bratty moment, dacryphilia, some cum play, orgasm control, overstimulation, a hint of dumbification, safe word being used (green)) ღ reader: wears a strap, no description of physical features, no pronouns used ღ warnings: none

Author’s note: I don’t even know what happened here but enjoy 4k words of pure filth I guess <3

With a tight grip on his leash, you part Seonghwa’s lips with your tongue, making out with him sloppily as you dominate the kiss. You leave him breathless when you part, and you can’t but marvel at the sight in front of you. He stays in the moment, savouring the feeling of your kiss and the flame of passion it has kindled inside of him, and only a few seconds after you parted from him does he open his eyes. The pleading look in them only makes you hunger for more, but you don’t want the other man kneeling right beside Seonghwa to feel neglected. So you turn to Yeosang, giving his leash a gentle tug, and you admire the stoic expression on his face that only gives way to a shallow gasp as you turn your attention to him. You kiss him as well, the taste of Seonghwa’s mouth still lingering on your tongue, and as it mixes with Yeosang’s, calmness washes over you. You part from his lips after a more chaste kiss, and you sit back at the foot of the bed to look them both up and down, as they’re quite literally on their knees for you. 

“How am I gonna play with you today, my loves?” you speak, your voice soft and your intentions not yet clear. They both stare up at you in anticipation, and you relish in their attention, wondering what orders to give each of them.

This is your secret playtime. Once the door to this room is locked and their collars are snugly wrapped around their throats, they’re yours. Loyal and obedient, and willing to do whatever it takes to please you.

You drop their leashes, and you gesture for them to turn to each other.

“Give me a little show,” you demand, and Seonghwa is the first one to turn his head to the side. They know what you want to see, it’s not the first time you’ve made them do this, and still it is exciting to watch them rile each other up under your command anew every single time you play. Seonghwa is also the one to initiate the kiss, plush lips nipping at Yeosang’s carefully, and you can’t tear your gaze away. You can see the way Seonghwa slips the tip of his tongue inside the other’s mouth for a short moment, and Yeosang shuts his eyes tightly, reaching out for the other man’s hand that’s cupping his cheek. You know Seonghwa can get eager, while Yeosang likes to take things slow, and the way the latter’s ears take on a shade of bright red amuses you. They part for a second, giving Yeosang a chance to breathe, but when the older one goes in for a deeper kiss, he can’t but moan into his mouth. You watch them make out for a while, struggling to find the right pace, but eventually they fall into a comfortable rhythm, and you can visibly see Yeosang’s shoulders relaxing as he clings to the other guy who’s slowly trying to get on top of him. 

“You two are doing so well…” you grant them some praise, and almost instantly both of them become more eager to please you with what they’re doing. Your gaze takes in their shapes, following the lines on their bodies and watching their muscles dance under the skin as they continuously move in tune with each other, until finally Seonghwa is about to push Yeosang to the ground underneath him, and you stop them.

“That’s enough,” you say, and you don’t miss the way it takes the older of the two great effort to tear himself away. Both panting with a blush dusted onto their faces, you pat the blanket of the queen sized bed you’re comfortably sitting on. “Come up here.” Surprise is painted into their faces - they both know how rare it is for you to invite them into bed with you so early, but neither of them hesitates to do as told.

“Yeo…” you call out to him. “I think I wanna start with you today.” His lips part to give way for an inaudible gasp, and you direct him to sit in front of Seonghwa, with his back flush against the other’s chest. “Relax,” you breathe as you kneel in front of them, placing one palm onto the younger’s bare chest and pushing him just a little further back. Seonghwa places his hands on his waist, his lips hovering above Yeosang’s sensitive neck, and you wonder if you should give him permission to do what he’s very obviously waiting to do. One look at the younger’s face, and you decide that for now you want to have him to yourself.

“Behave,” you order, as you shoot Seonghwa a sharp look, and he lifts his head up so as not to get tempted. Then you cup Yeosang’s face with both of your hands, making him look right at you, and the shy expression in his eyes makes you chuckle.

“You’re so cute, Yeo,” you mutter, leaning in and brushing your lips against his. “Let me show you how much I adore you.” He relaxes more easily as you kiss him compared to when Seonghwa did, starting out slow and careful, and gradually building up the intensity of the kiss - just how you know he likes it. Letting your tongue lick into his mouth, your fingertips begin dancing down his torso, and when you drag your nails down his abs, he mewls into your kiss. You respond with a moan of your own to show appreciation for the pretty sounds he makes, until eventually you part to allow for him to catch his breath momentarily. “You’re so perfect,” you whisper, before you reconnect your lips to his, and then you bring your hand back up to wrap it around his throat. Applying some pressure to put him in a light chokehold, you’re satisfied with the look in his half-lidded eyes once you part again. You know it takes him a little longer than Seonghwa to truly relax during times like these, so you want to do your best to ease him into the scene. 

“Y/N…” the older calls out to you now. A question that he doesn’t dare say out loud lies in his pleading gaze, and when he licks his lips seductively it’s hard to find it in you to say no. However, you know Yeosang isn’t fully ready yet, so you put your palm against Seonghwa’s cheek and you lean in to give him a passionate kiss.

“Soon, Hwa,” you promise. “Be nice and I’ll let you have all the fun you want later on.”

“Okay,” Seonghwa mouths, and in his stead, you attach your lips to Yeosang’s throat. You trailing soft kisses down the side of it makes him whimper, and you place a palm right onto his chest to feel his heartbeat quicken.

“F-feels good…” he mutters, and you find yourself grinning at his words.

“That’s good, Yeo,” you say. “Wanna make you feel soooo good today.” You drag your nails down his abdomen and feel him shiver, and he lets you hear the sweetest whine when your hand passes by his core and instead comes to a halt on top of his thigh. “What do you want, baby boy?” you ask, and you sit up so as to look him right in the eyes. He averts his gaze in embarrassment, and you bury your face in his neck once again, mumbling, “Maybe you’re not ready yet for that?”

“I-” Yeosang chokes on his words when you move your hand back up to his stomach, grazing his hardening dick in the process, and right next to your ear you can hear Seonghwa letting out a curse. You give him a look that acts as a warning, before turning back to the person in between you two.

“You…? What is it, baby boy?” You feel the urge to tease him a bit, and just as he opens his mouth to try to speak, you let your fingertips graze his length again. 

“Hnng…” He bites his tongue, still looking away from you.

“I think you need someone to shut up that pretty little head of yours, don’t you?” you guess, and though it’s barely visible, Yeosang nods. “Well…” you bring some distance between the both of you, and then you find Seonghwa’s hands that are still resting on the other guy’s sides to lead them up to his chest. Yeosang squirms a little when the older’s cool fingertips find his nipples, but as soon as he begins playing with them, he lets out a shaky moan and relaxes against Seonghwa’s chest.

“Y/N… can I?” Seonghwa asks once again, and seeing the blissful expression on the younger’s face, you finally give him the okay. He doesn’t hesitate to attach his lips to the neck of the guy in front of him, sucking and biting and lapping at the side of it, drawing a string of heavenly moans from Yeosang’s mouth.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Yeo?” you ask, thumb brushing against his lips. 

“Mhm…” he merely mewls in response, and you smile at him.

“That’s good,” you say, leaning in to kiss him, this time being quick to deepen the kiss, and he lets you without showing any resistance. Just before you pull away, you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, starting to slowly jerk him off. “That feel good?”

“Y-yeah…” he desperately whines, his hips bucking into your hand. You crawl into his lap in response, using your weight to keep him from doing that.

“Can’t even stay still now, huh?” you tease him, moving your hand up and down painfully slowly. With your strap already securely attached to your hips, you wonder whether you should push him some more, of if he needs more time to let himself be fucked stupid. You tighten the grip on his length just a little when you reach his tip, but even just this much has him arching his back, moaning at your and Seonghwa’s hands pleasuring him, while the latter is also busy sucking marks into his skin. You decide it’d be fitting to do the same - after all, he’s your baby boy, and not Seonghwa’s. So you lean in to attach your lips to the skin covering his chest, leaving a few kisses here and there while wandering south slowly, and eventually starting to suckle on a spot above his abs. His breathing has gotten heavier, and as you’re forced to slide off his lap to reach where you want to reach with your lips, he immediately bucks his hips into your fist again.

“You really needed this, huh?” you assume as you sit up, letting go of his cock and earning yourself a pained sound of protest. However, when Seonghwa pinches his nipples a little harsher, Yeosang immediately quiets down. 

“Good boy,” you say, directed at the both of them, really. You bring your hand down to his hole, and he immediately adjusts his position to give you easier access. Raking the fingers of your other hand through his hair, you continue, “So ready to be taken by me today, hm? That’s what I like to see.” One digit slipping past his rim easily, you watch him shudder at the sensation, and when you pull out again, Yeosang dares to glance at you. 

“Hwa, hands off him,” you order, and he begrudgingly obeys. You reach over to where you keep your lube, getting a generous amount of it on your hand, before you commence working the boy in front of you open. 

“F-feels so good…” he continuously mewls as you fit two, then three fingers into his tight hole, and you watch the blissful expression on his face with awe. 

“Can’t wait to make you cum on my cock, baby boy…” you mutter, momentarily getting a little carried away yourself, but when Seonghwa reaches for Yeosang’s length you snap right out of it.

“Or we make you cum on the spot, hm?” Seonghwa growls, Yeosang’s breath hitching at the added stimulation of the other man playing with his dick. “See if you can even keep it in before Y/N starts fucking you properly…”

“Hey,” you give Seonghwa a warning, though you must admit being a little mean sounds very tempting to you as well. However, you hear Yeosang mutter,

“C-can take it… I’ll take it, I swear…” His determination makes heat rush to your own core, and with Seonghwa’s gaze resting on you, prompting you to make a decision, you think for a short moment.

“Hwa,” you call out to him eventually. “Keep going then. He said he can take it.” Seeing how the younger immediately starts to shiver and cry out as Seonghwa’s slender fingers begin working him up to his high, you don’t actually believe he can, but now he will have to live with the consequences of his actions. And he knows just as well as you and Seonghwa do, that you won’t be happy if you don’t even get to properly fuck him before he spills all over himself. 

Yet he keeps at least some degree of self control - maybe it helps that the older is now more focused on jerking him off than on tending to his neck - and so you position yourself to push up into him.

“Sangie, are you ready?” you ask, and he nods vigorously. Chuckling at his need, you thrust your hips, watching as the toy strapped to your hips disappears a little further in his hole with each repetition of your movements. 

“Fuck-” You can’t say you’re not proud of yourself when you manage to lure a curse out of Yeosang, a rare occurance indeed, and you signal Seonghwa to up his speed a bit. The latter too seems more than affected by the situation, after all he must be able to feel the friction of Yeosang’s lower back moving against him with each time you thrust in and out of him.

“Stay focused, Hwa,” you remind him, “we’ll get to you in a second…” Then you lean in to press a sloppy kiss against Yeosang’s jaw, who is turning into a mewling, crying mess in between you and Seonghwa.

“Y/N… please…p-please…!” he slurs his words, but you don’t slow down.

“You can cum if you want,” you mutter, taking in his features and if you’re being quite honest, you could also cum from the sight alone. A few more thrusts and he comes undone, spilling into Seonghwa’s fist as a broken moan falls from his lips, and you come to a halt, carefully pulling out of him. You cup his face in your hands, a single tear falling from his cheek, and you wipe it away with your thumb.

“You’re so perfect…” you mutter, leaning in and placing a kiss onto his chest, tasting the thin layer of sweat that covers his skin on your lips. “I want to ruin you completely. Are you green?” Yeosang nods, repeating back to you,

“‘M green…” With Seonghwa shooting you an impatient look that’s probably supposed to ask something along the lines of “And what about me?”, you reach your hand out to comb your fingers through his black locks.

“I could ruin the both of you, actually…” you mutter, excitement sparking in your chest as you think about it. Seonghwa’s eyes become soft, and with a gesture of your chin towards him, you prompt him to speak.

“I think… we deserve that,” he says, and you chuckle at his words.

“Then lie down first of all. Help me out and I’ll wreck you too,” you offer, an almost wicked expression on your face now, and Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate.

“I will.” His voice shakes as he answers - as much as he likes to sometimes push your limits, at the end of the day he too is just another pretty set of holes who wants nothing more but to be ruined by you. You direct Yeosang to sit on the other’s face, and without having to give Seonghwa any orders, he’s already putting his skilled tongue to use. Yeosang shivers upon feeling the warm, wet muscle prodding at his rim, and you steady him, kneeling above Seonghwa’s chest.

“You’re doing well, baby boy,” you praise Yeosang, before you share a slow and gentle kiss with him, feeling him relax under your touch. You find one of his hands, guiding it towards his core and eventually wrapping it around his softened cock.

“Get yourself off,” you whisper against his lips, but Yeosang hesitates. “What? Still too sensitive?” He nods, and with another short kiss to his lips, you say, “You can take it.” He sucks in a sharp breath when you guide his hand into the movement you want, and with the other guy lapping at his hole eagerly, Yeosang can’t say anything. And though he’s clearly getting overstimulated, he’s not safe wording you, so you tell him to keep going as you move away from him, so as to position yourself in between Seonghwa’s legs. Always keeping an eye on Yeosang, you make sure he doesn’t stop touching himself.

“Keep going, Yeo,” you say, sounding somewhat strict, and he immediately nods.

“O-okay,” he mutters, letting out a moan as a pained expression sits on his face. With knitted eyebrows, he does his best to obey, while also watching you, but his thighs are trembling, and eventually he tries to escape the older’s tongue instinctively. However, Seonghwa is quick to reach out to force Yeosang back down, and you can tell he’s eager to please you. 

“Doing so well, the two of you,” you praise them, before you lower yourself and you leave a trail of kisses down Seonghwa’s stomach. You can hear him letting out a moan, subsequently making Yeosang shiver on top of him, and it only makes you want to hear more. You sink your teeth into his skin, working your way further down, and eventually your lips hover above his hip bone.

“Gonna leave a mark on you too, baby boy,” you mutter, earning yourself another moan from Seonghwa, and then from Yeosang too. And so you get to work, alternating between sucking on the skin and licking it to soothe it, until you’re satisfied with the outcome. “Hwa…” you call out to him, not missing the increasingly desperate expression on the younger’s face as his dick has grown back to its full length, and he’s trying not to reach his next high too quickly. But you know he can hold back for a while longer, and you also know he won’t cum unasked, so for now you decide to direct your attention towards the older, with his hard cock right in front of your face. You wrap your fingers around the base, and with a chaste kitten lick across his tip, you test his reaction - and you’re not unhappy about it. Because the second your warm muscle comes in contact with him, he too shivers, and he lets out a needy moan that once again Yeosang reacts to as well. Getting high off of the control you have over both of them, you don’t hesitate to wrap your lips around Seonghwa’s head wholly, swirling your tongue around it a few times, before you start slowly bobbing your head up and down on top of him. And with each desperate sound either of the two men make, you only become more eager to get them both off.

“Y/N…” Yeosang calls out eventually, his voice shaking. “I’m so close…” You lift your head for but a moment to answer,

“Then take your hand away from your pretty cock, baby boy. Don’t you dare cum before Hwa.” He does as told, and though with Seonghwa’s tongue all up inside of him it is still only a matter of time until he can’t keep it in any longer, this will still at least give him some more time until he breaks. As for you, you go back to tending to Seonghwa, sucking him off in just the way he likes most, and with how noisy he’s getting you know that he too is drawing closer and closer to the edge. That’s when he finally starts bucking his hips up into your mouth, and you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat suddenly. You let him slip out of your mouth as you lift your head, letting your hand take over, and enjoying the way he rapidly loses control.

“Such a whore…” you say, watching in amusement as he becomes more and more desperate by the second, and you know he’s so so close. “Look at you, having your face buried in one person’s ass, while you’re trying to fuck the face of another. Aren’t you greedy?” You’re sure that if he could talk right now, he’d agree with you, but like this all he can do is moan incessantly, with Yeosang holding on for dear life on top of him. You move your hand up and down Seonghwa’s length at a relentless speed, knowing that a little overstimulation is sure to throw him off the edge in no time. “Such a greedy whore…” you repeat, and along with your degrading words, he comes undone, spilling his seed all over himself. “Keep going,” you say, not letting him rest just yet, and then you crawl towards Yeosang, reaching for his cock and swiftly licking the precum off his tip, before taking him in whole. It takes you and Seonghwa but a few strokes of your tongues to have him coming undone as well, and warmth rushes to your core as you feel him spilling inside your mouth. You let Yeosang collapse on his back as he tries to catch his breath, but with you now on top of Seonghwa, you grab his jaw harshly, and you press your lips against his. Parting them with ease, you pass Yeosang’s load onto the other guy, the taste of it mixing with the taste of Seonghwa’s mouth, and when you sit back up, you watch as he swallows it without protest.

“Good boy,” you praise him, fingers combing through his hair. You reach for one of the towels you had prepared in advance to clean Seonghwa’s cum off his stomach, and then you give them both a few moments to rest.

“I’m not done with you two,” you mutter. You make Yeosang get on all fours, trailing a few kisses down along his spine before reaching for Seonghwa’s leash and guiding him closer. 

“You wanna fuck him?” you ask. “While I fuck you?” 

“Yes,” he breathes, anticipation making his voice shake. 

“Then get to it,” you order, and once again you can’t peel your gaze off of the two as Seonghwa slips two fingers into Yeosang’s hole, stuffing some more lube inside just in case, and as the younger waits patiently, a blush creeping back onto his cheeks, Seonghwa gives himself a few strokes until he’s hard and ready to go. There’s pink dusted onto his cheeks as well, and with only a few thrusts he’s snugly fitted inside the younger.

“Good. Now hold still…” The mewl Seonghwa lets out when your lubed up fingers come in contact with his ass is like music to your ears, and you take your time stretching him out.

“Please…” A single word slips past Seonghwa’s lips as he’s getting impatient, but you hold him back, wanting to tease him just a bit more. When you curl your fingers inside of him, grazing his walls so perfectly, he moans your name, and his hips snap forward as if they were moving by themselves, making Yeosang groan as well. 

“Not so eager…” you say, placing your free hand onto Seonghwa’s waist to keep him still. 

“I’m sorry…” he apologizes, his voice sounding strained with need.

“So cute…” you breathe as you work your fingers inside of him a little longer, and he forces himself to stay still, even though you can tell it’s taking everything out of him. “You’re both so cute…” And then finally you pull out, and Seonghwa shivers when he feels the tip of your strap prodding at his entrance. You push inside with ease, and a few slow thrusts already have both of them groaning and mewling and shaking for you. 

“Shit, you’re perfect…” you praise them through gritted teeth as you pick up speed, and their voices form a melody filled with pleasure, you wish it would never end. And with you fucking both of them like this, neither of you three is bound to last long. The first one to break is Seonghwa.

“C-can I cum? Please… please, can’t hold it in…” And it’s not like you can blame him in his position, but still you don’t want to give him the okay just yet. So you reach for his hand and guide it towards Yeosang, and once Seonghwa’s fingers are wrapped around the younger’s cock, his moans too are becoming more and more desperate.

“P-please, Y/N…” he too is begging for permission to cum now, and with how close you too are to your high, you can’t but grant them their releases.

“Cum for me, my perfect boys…” you say through gritted teeth, and almost on command, Seonghwa breaks, then Yeosang follows suit, and lastly, as the overstimulation is already building up for the two of them, you too reach your high, feeling your whole body shake from all the sensations coursing through it.

You watch as both Seonghwa and Yeosang collapse onto the bed, side by side, both looking completely spent and fucked out. You can’t but find the sight adorable, and you give them a hand with cleaning themselves up a bit, before you find your place in the middle. With you sitting up, you let both of them rest their head on one of your thighs, playing with their hair.

“You did so well for me today,” you praise them as you can feel them melting under your gentle touch. “My two perfect boys.”

[emphistic]

Deja Vu

A/N: Bury Me at Makeout Creek

<- series m.list

And autumn comes when you’re not yet done

With the summer passing by, but

I don’t think I could stand to be

Where you don't see me

Sukuna had fallen in love with a war, when nobody told him it had ended.

Broken bottles and fallen chairs and shredded papers decorated the already messy floor. Sukuna’s apartment was a battlefield, and so was his mind. He simply just didn’t get it. . . Sukuna was the moon, when you wanted the stars. And for that very reason, he had lost everything.

He had no other reason to stay, no ulterior motive. And he certainly wasn’t wrong when he said there was no reason for the two of you to continue the fake relationship.

Sukuna was hurt. He had come to terms with it long ago. You didn’t love him, for he was merely a “token of luck” for you, and that was all there was to it. But, at the same time, he wanted you to be happy. And if he needed to leave for that to happen, he would. Still, he couldn’t help the thought that came into his mind, that he hoped—no, wanted—you to be happier with him, rather than with Naoki Ito. 

Was he foolish for thinking he was more of the man you needed, compared to Naoki?

Fuck. He was hurt, and he was far from coming to terms with it.

Sukuna often found himself asking why he loved you. And every single time, he was left with no answer. Why? Why did he love you? Even after you tore his heart out, and ripped it to shreds, without even knowing it yourself, he still loved you.

Vulnerability. A noun, as said by Oxford Languages, meaning “the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.” It was an emotion Sukuna showed once every blue moon. Yet, with you, it seemed the opposite. You were a special girl to Sukuna. One which he had known since childhood. The thought of him having to let your memories merely fade away to the past was unbearable.

Sukuna hated you so much. But in his world, love and hate were so similar, that he knew not the line which crossed between them. It was blurry. It was foggy. But it definitely couldn’t be non-existent, right?

That fateful day, after Sukuna exited your kitchen, he walked back into the living room, told the two cousins on the couch he was called into work, and simply left. You only knew this, because, when you came back into the living room, soon after wiping away stray tears on the sleeve of your sweater and splashing your face with cold water, Naoki and Eileen were quick to question you.

“Why did it take so long?”

“Does microwaving popcorn really take almost ten minutes?”

You had missed the beginning of White Chicks, but it didn’t matter much to you, you had already seen the movie quite a few times before. And, taking everything into account, an American 2000s comedy film probably wasn’t enough to get rid of the prominent tear stains on your pillow that very night.

Naoki had asked you if he could stay the night, using traffic as an argument, and even going as far as to suggest the idea of using your spare bedroom, but you outright rejected him. Saying the traffic near you wasn’t usually as bad on Saturdays as on other days.

Of course, that was a lie. Your street was busier than most locations, and still, you didn’t feel an ounce bad for making up a mere fib. You just couldn’t bear the thought of another man taking up the bed previously used by a notorious man with pink hair. Your heart wasn’t taken by Naoki, and your bed wouldn’t be, either.

Eileen exited your apartment after the movie ended, followed suit by her male cousin. The blonde left without a word to you, save for a small mumble of “Good night”, but that was it.

You didn’t know why you felt so empty inside. Everything that happened, happened because of you. You said yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend, and you told Sukuna that you two should end the fake relationship; you were the sole puppeteer. And yet, you felt like a doll attached to the strings.

Everything played out the way you made it, but none of it played out how you wanted it.

Confusion. Guilt. Regret.

Three emotions that hung heavy in your heart.

The whole two weeks you spent with Sukuna, you spent making a grave mistake. You thought of no one but yourself. The arranged relationship? Was for your benefit: to lift the curse. Sukuna? Was your pawn: did everything you suggested. Naoki? Was your opportunity to experience making macaroni with someone.

Was I always this selfish? you asked yourself, while laying in bed one night. It was quiet in the apartment, save for the distant grumble of your fridge, and the wind blowing against your curtains, and the sheets rustling every time you shifted in bed, unable to fall victim to Hypnos.

The thought process behind your poorly executed actions was simply that you had too much on your plate. You were in two relationships at once. But your heart was in one spot. And that confused you. What you’ve always wanted since childhood now seemed dull and insignificant. Was this what you really wanted?

You couldn’t continue the relationship with Sukuna because you had to end the one with Naoki first. And, speaking of which, you had no clue why you took up being Naoki’s girlfriend. Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to decline someone who seemed so innocent. It just didn’t feel right.

But, at the same time, as you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling with an arm beneath your head, you couldn’t help feeling sick to your stomach. These weren’t butterflies, this feeling wasn’t love. You were wrong. You were so, so wrong. You should’ve never even gotten yourself into this mess in the first place. And now, instead of only hurting yourself, you were hurting not one, but two other people. Two people who didn’t deserve what you were putting them through.

-

When Naoki grabbed your hand, you almost instinctively pulled it away, clearly not used to another man’s touch other than . . . Sukuna’s. . . Fuck.

It was the weekend, and you were ice skating with Naoki. It was a simple outing, an activity you found yourself having taken a liking to, and you should’ve been enjoying it. But . . . you weren’t. You couldn’t help yourself drifting off to the thought of Sukuna. He promised to teach you hockey when winter came; the weather would be colder, and the only warmth you could gather was from his hand intertwined with your own.

But winter seemed so far, and so impossible, that you almost threw away any dream you previously dreamt, and simply bit your tongue.

Your gloved hand shakingly took up Naoki’s, as the two of you glided across the ice at a moderate pace. Your bottom lip trembled, and you clumsily skated, nearly knocking into other couples on the ice as the both of you went on and on and on.

“I’m not really good at this, as you can probably tell,” Naoki began, “but you seem to know what you’re doing.”

“My . . . friend taught me; I told you, remember? He is—he was a good teacher,” you mumbled, turning your head away from Naoki’s.

A friend. That’s what Sukuna was to you for two decades. A companion, a neighbor, a comeade, someone you could trust. Sukuna was a friend. And now, he was but a stranger, whose face you could only hold on to in your dreams.

In the past, mainly when you were a little younger, you had dreams about people that didn’t exist (Well, that’s what you concluded). You could never remember their faces when you woke up, it was always a blur; a fuzzy, distinct memory that often seemed like a mere figment of your imagination.

That’s how the name Sukuna Ryomen felt to you now. Hearing it made your heart drop to your stomach, and you always looked around your surroundings to see if you could spot his unruly, pink hair, that you loved so much—yet not enough to keep—so that you could bring him back, and tell him how stupid, and how much of an idiot you were back there.

You knew Sukuna wouldn’t like it if you did that, he wouldn’t want you to pull him back into the tide. But fuck, you were a selfish person, who wanted nothing more than to do just that.

Naoki smiled, “Right. I forgot. . . Anyway, let’s go sit down somewhere. I heard there’s ice cream here, y’know.”

You turned back to Naoki. “Oh, really? That sounds nice, we should try it.”

“We should.”

“I didn’t take you for a chocolate person.”

You laughed. “Really? How do you mean?”

Naoki shrugged, a subtle smile on his lips. “. . .The reason Sukuna left that night . . . surely wasn’t just because of work, right?”

Did he know? Did Sukuna tell him? Did you accidentally tell him at one point? There was no way he could’ve found out on his own. You’ve never told a soul other than Sukuna about the “curse” and you certainly never told anyone about the arranged relationship. So then, how. . ?

Before you could ask any questions, Naoki beat you to it. “You don’t have to lie. Lying too much is . . . a bad habit to have. I’m sure you would know.” Naoki’s smile wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold. It was a smile of acceptance; he had learned everything he needed to learn.

You weren’t going to outright confess everything in a shopping mall to a man you didn’t know as well as you thought you did, and you sure as hell weren’t going to talk about how you felt about Sukuna, but you didn’t see the point in trying to hide the fact that you and Naoki shouldn’t be together anymore. You had lied for so long. To Sukuna. To Naoki. And to yourself.

Furrowing your brows, you sighed a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so nice and such a great listener, and I’ve. . . I’ve been . . . just me,” you shakily inhaled before continuing. “Naoki, I’m sorry. You’re great, you’re a wonderful guy, and I’m glad I got to spend the time I spent with you. I’m just—I. . . Everything is moving so fast for me, and I’ve been nothing but a huge dick to everyone around. It’s just. . . It’s complicated, and I. . .” Your voice trailed off, as you felt your eyes get wet. Crying in public was definitely a first for you. And today would not be the day.

“Look, I may not understand everything that’s going on, but I see everything going on. And I know, if we stay together any longer, you’ll spend the rest of your time as my girlfriend searching for another person in me that . . . doesn’t exist,” Naoki sighed. “I can assure you of that much.”

“Nao. . .” Your eyes softened as you peered into the copper-haired man’s face, but his head was casted downwards, and his bangs covered his eyes. You could barely see his mouth move as he spoke to you with a quiet voice.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry. I . . . feel sorry for you, actually, that you had to bury your feelings for so long. That’s probably the only part I can sympathize with you on. But. . . I tried, I really tried. But ‘like’ and ‘love’ are very different things. And the difference between what we feel for each other is very prominent,” Naoki added, saying your name with a dull tone.

“. . .Naoki, I really, really wish we could’ve met when I was more mature. When I was a lot less confused, and a lot more . . . together, composed, I’m not sure. But, it’s been . . . a time. A ride. A chapter. But maybe, it was the wrong chapter. The wrong book, even,” you tried joking; “. . .I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Naoki Ito. You deserve so much better, but I can’t give you much better, and I will always be forever regretful of that.”

Naoki nodded. “I know. I know you’re full of regrets. But we’re in our twenties, and we have the rest of our lives to live. As much I miss this, as much as I miss you, I know there’s more for me out there. And there’s more for you out there, if you put your mind to it. It’s . . . embarrassing to spend the rest of your life hung up on heartbreak. I’ll tell you that.

“You’re a beautiful, exceptional girl. Being with someone you don’t love, and putting on a mask all day, isn’t your fate. I’m not going to hold you back from what you really want. So, this is goodbye.”

You walked home, soon after. With a heavy heart in your hand, that still beat for someone miles away. Huh, being selfish was so strange.

-

It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk, and I need you now. 

Said I wouldn’t call, but I’ve lost all control and I need you now

And I don’t know how I can do without, I just need you now

You weren’t planning on spending the rest of your night drunk out of your mind, but being spontaneous was pretty much your thing at this point.

Alcohol is known to affect your brain. According to an article you read: It’s a depressant, which can disrupt the balance of neurotransmitters in your brain, affecting your feelings, thoughts, and behavior. In summary, alcohol affects the part of your brain that controls inhibition, so feeling relaxed, less anxious, or more confident after a drink is always a definite possibility.

In your apartment, you had a classy collection of drinks to choose from. But, maybe it was a mistake for Sukuna to supply you with his favorite bottle of beer, because that’s all you wanted now. You didn’t drink beer very often, but it burned especially good when it was accompanied by the feeling of longing for a man so far away.

Blinking back tears, your shaking fingers clumsily dialed a number you could only manage to remember when you were half-asleep and in need of comfort. You usually held the phone up to your ear, but this time, you put the call on speaker. You had nothing to lose, after all. You were alone, with the stars and moon, and your dignity.

The call was answered within two rings, and you wasted no time in saying, “Sukuna, I—I. . . I don’t know what to—hic—do. I need—”

You would’ve gone on and on about how sorry you were, and how much you needed him, but the drunk version of you had an incredibly flexible mind. And when Sukuna cut you off before you could say those three formidable words, and asked, “What did you have to drink?” you immediately forgot about what you were going to say before.

Your excitement for hearing Sukuna’s voice after what seemed like a millenium couldn’t be contained, and your heart felt ten times lighter. Blinking, your reply came almost instantly. “Just—just a few beers. Why . . . do you ask?”

Sukuna hummed from the other line. “Not in a mood for Chardonnay, I take it?”

“N-no,” you furrowed your brows, chewing on your bottom lip. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. I wanted to drink your favorite drink. . . And, when I opened the bottle, it felt like I could feel your hands on it from the last time you opened it for me. I wish—”

“Those things are tough. Why didn’t you just use a bottle opener?”

“I don’t like bottle openers. I like when you used to open bottles for me,” you nearly burst out sobbing, which was just utterly insane, considering the bittersweet smile you had on your face. “I . . . miss y—”

“I know you do, and, to be frank, that just makes me feel a lot better about everything. I mean, why wouldn’t you miss me? I gave you what you’ve always wanted, I lifted your stupid fuckin’ curse, I’m—I’m basically your Lord and Savior, now,” joked a laughing Sukuna. He was frustrated, so frustrated. Because, despite it all, he still fucking loved you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after you unconsciously made him relapse. None of that mattered, because you were you, and Sukuna would always love that.

Drunk You didn’t understand any of what Sukuna was saying, and so you ultimately dismissed his words. Your voice softened as you added, “I’m—I’m worried. I . . . don’t want other memories to replace ours. I miss our cooking nights together, Sukuna. I really miss—”

“Do you miss having someone to make macaroni and cheese with, or do you miss me?”

“. . .Is there a right answer to that?” You laughed mindlessly, taking another swig from your glass.

“There’s a right answer to everything, if you put your heart to it. Go to sleep, sweetheart. There’ll be alka-seltzer in your cabinet when you wake up.”

-

You awoke the next morning with an empty bottle in your hand, prominent eye bags, and a bad back, because you had slept on the couch that night before. Your first thought was to go back to sleep, but you decided against that, and stalked around the apartment like a zombie in search of brains, until you found a box of hangover relief in your cabinet. I didn’t put that there, you thought, but you took the tablets anyway.

Hangovers didn’t wait for anyone, and you definitely weren’t going to question a miracle from God.

“So, what’s up? We haven’t hung at your place in a while; it looks nice.” Yuuji had arrived at your door fifteen minutes after you told him you needed someone to confide in. He was a naturally very nosy person, but something told you his speed was because he wanted to help a friend out.

“I need advice,” you said, setting two cups of coffee on the table. You clearly hadn’t learned your lesson on the harm in inviting a friend over to your apartment for drinks, except this time, you would finally be sober.

“Yeah, you look like you need advice. Sorry, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but, you look like shit.”

“Uh huh. I feel like shit, too. It’s been a rough two weeks since I last heard from you. There’s a lot we need to catch up on,” you laughed, taking a sip from your mug.

“Spill.”

“I fucked your brother.”

There was a pregnant pause. Yuuji couldn’t even look you in the face, not because he was surprised—spoiler alert: he wasn’t—but because he simply wasn’t expecting you to be so frank. You? Sukuna? Why did no one tell him anything? Were you asking for advice about getting into a real relationship with Sukuna? Or were you two past that, and looking to get married?

“. . .Deadass. . ?”

“. . .No, I’m just kidding. But, we did . . . kiss. And, we did date, but it wasn’t. . . It was casual, it was just—I don’t know. It was fake. Okay, it was fake. That’s—that’s what it was.”

“And I take it, you wanted it to be real?”

Yuuji could be so smart sometimes, you mentally laughed.

“That’s the thing, Yuuji. I do, but I also don’t. But I do, but. . . I need advice, okay.”

“Duh. Tell me from the beginning.” Yuuji situated himself in a comfortable position, with his legs crossed on your table, and his arms resting on the back of the couch. He had a feeling he was going to be here for a long time.

You hesitantly started by explaining your curse. And how it’s been a dream of yours since forever to be able to make macaroni and cheese with someone you loved. But, you just never had an opportunity to do that, because you couldn’t get a partner who liked macaroni and cheese like you did.

“So, one day, when I was especially bored, and Sukuna was over at my place, I told him all of what I just told you. And, I brought up my idea on how I could get rid of my ‘curse’ and, surprisingly, he agreed to it. We would get into a fake relationship—because he liked macaroni and cheese—and cross our fingers and pray that the gods above would lift my curse and grant me a boyfriend who fit my rubric.”

Yuuji looked conflicted. “But Sukuna doesn’t like. . . Never mind, continue.”

“Later that night, we went out for drinks at a bar. I ran into a friend of mine, Eileen Mifune, and coincidentally, she was with her cousin, Naoki Ito. He’s, like, this super adorably dorky guy. Copper hair, super shy when we first met, you get the vision. But, yeah. We exchanged numbers, since I thought he was a nice guy, y’know?”

Yuuji nodded, completely engaged in your story.

“The next day, Sukuna and I watched Pride and Prejudice—”

“Let me guess, Sukuna was being a dick about the movie and everything in it?”

“Bingo. So, we watched Pride and Prejudice. Or, at least, we tried to. Uhm. . . Some things came up, and we may or may not have gotten a bit carried away and started. . . We kissed. Like, a lot. And I liked it. I really liked it.”

“Is that the conflict?”

“No, there’s more. We were interrupted by Naoki calling me, and he was asking to see me. Wanted me to show him around the city, or something. Did I mention he was looking for a place to stay? Sorry. But, anyway, I agreed.

“We were walking to a restaurant I knew, since he doesn’t have a car, when out of the blue, it started raining. We agreed to walk back to my place, since the restaurant was still a lot farther, and we ended up making macaroni and cheese together.”

“Like you’ve always wanted? Isn’t that a good thing, then?”

“. . .It should’ve been. Moving on, the next day, I invited Sukuna over, and I proposed that we should start seeing other people, since, at the time, I thought Naoki was interested in me, and that I was interested in him. Sukuna ended up agreeing.

“We told the cousins we had simply lost interest in each other, and I started going on dates with Naoki. We hung out pretty often. And, from what I’ve assumed, Sukuna did the same with Eileen.

“Some time later, I invited Sukuna over, and we made macaroni and cheese while he told me the story of that catastrophic Thanksgiving dinner you guys had. My condolences to Choso, by the way,” you added.

“Ohh, yeah, that.” Yuuji scratched the back of his neck. “I still feel bad about that.”

“Uh huh. Anyway. . . Oh! I found out he watched Sausage Party!”

“For real? I’ve been nagging him for years, though, so can’t say I’m surprised.”

“We kissed . . . after eating the mac n’ cheese, and he stayed the night.

“The next day, I invited Naoki over. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and. . . I said yes, because I didn’t know what else to say, to be honest. And, it did feel like I was obligated to. I’m just. . . I’m really confused, Yuuji.”

“Would you have said ‘yes’ if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story?”

“. . .I wouldn’t have met Naoki if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story.”

“Don’t be like that. I mean in general.”

“No, I wouldn’t have said ‘yes’ because . . . I don’t love Naoki like I thought I did.”

Yuuji sighed, “Well, there’s your answer. This Naoki guy just isn’t the one for you.”

“So. . . Sukuna came over—I didn’t invite him, by the way—and he was . . . with Eileen.”

“That one blondie?”

You nodded, looking at your lap.

“What a bitch,” Yuuji shook his head.

“We decided to have a double-date? I don’t know. A movie was put on, and I went to go make popcorn. Sukuna came with; one thing led to another, and we kissed. . . I loved it. But, I felt guilty, because. . . I was in a relationship with another guy. Fuck, of course I felt guilty! I was cheating for God’s sake!” You groaned, holding your head in your hands.

Yuuji hummed, “That’s kind of a dick move on your part, not gonna lie.”

Your head snapped to Yuuji’s. “I know! That’s the whole point. I know, and I still did it. And, if time was rewound, I probably would have done the same thing. God. And you know the worst part? We broke up right after. I told Sukuna about how we shouldn’t have been . . . y’know, kissing, and he just. . . We broke up. The arrangement’s off.

“I lost a fake boyfriend, and I lost a real friend. All in the same day.”

“That’s. . . I don’t even know what to say to you. So, as for Naoki?”

“I broke up with him yesterday. I got deja vu being with Naoki. I felt like he wasn’t the first boyfriend I had that liked macaroni and cheese. It was as if I was reliving something I had already gone through. It just didn’t sit right with me.”

“And you did something about that?”

You paused. “Well . . . yeah. I broke up with him.”

“Sheesh, that’s the shortest lasting relationship you’ve ever had. And probably the shortest one in history, too.”

“Yuuji,” you deadpanned, “be serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he raised his hands in defense. “You couldn’t, like, explain everything to him or something? You guys could just get back together. For real, this time.”

“Not exactly. . . I mean, just look at me, I’m currently a fucking mess. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sukuna how I really felt, because . . . I just don’t think . . . I would be good for him.”

“Are you telling me? Or are you trying to tell yourself that?” 

“. . .” You didn’t know.

Yuuji said your name with full confidence, “I know my brother. I’ve known him my whole life. And I know, that, you were the best and the worst thing to happen to him. (That’s a compliment.) There will never ever be another girl like you. Not in this lifetime. Not in this universe. Not ever. So be rational, goddamnit. Sukuna won’t settle for less. And he’s as stubborn as a mule. What you did was wrong, but you can always change the ending of a story if you really put your mind to it.

“Call him. Text him. But whatever you do, do the apologizing and explaining in person. I will personally help you and abduct him, if that’s what it will take.

“I really like you and my brother together; I’m selfish, I know. But everyone is a little self-seeking every once in a while, and I’m sure Sukuna would at least hear you out. So don’t sweat it, kid.” Yuuji patted you on the shoulder encouragingly, before sitting up and cracking his back after sitting for what seemed like forever.

-

You ended up passing up Yuuji on his ingenious idea of kidnapping Sukuna. If you were going to fix things, you were going to do it unaided. There have been too many people involved by now; you just wanted it to be Sukuna and you and the stars in the night sky. Uninterrupted by any phone calls, and any other thoughts that snaked their way into your brain.

“What . . . is this?” Sukuna raised a brow, inspecting the plate of food in your hands.

“You cooked for me . . . a lot, back then. I just . . . wanted to repay the favor?” You tried.

“So why is the ketchup on the omurice spelling out the word ‘sorry’? I’m not a mind reader, y’know. Explain,” Sukuna crossed his arms.

“It’s an apology. For you. I’m apologizing to you, Sukuna, for being so utterly stupid these two weeks. Please, let me explain. So I can sound like less of a dick.”

“Be my guest.”

Despite Yuuji’s assurance, you still feared Sukuna would hang up your call or leave your texts on read. So, you did the next best thing. You had shown up to Sukuna’s door completely unannounced. With a plate of a traditional Japanese dish—omurice—in your grasps, which you knew Sukuna had a soft spot for. People usually do a design with the ketchup, and you . . . decided to write the word sorry.

You followed Sukuna inside, and the both of you walked onto the balcony, where you could have some peace and quiet to explain yourself with no interruptions. There was the occasional flutter of the wind, and the sounds of birds having fun in the sky, but that was it. And that was enough.

Clearing your throat, you began—with the plate of food still in your hands. “I’ve been really stupid. And ignorant. And. . . I’m sorry.

“I don’t know why, but, I’ve always pushed away the idea that I loved you. And, that was dumb. Because I really loved you. Love, I mean. I know that’s kind of frank, and maybe even a little cheesy to hear and say, but, I don’t regret saying it. To you, at least.

“We got into this relationship for my benefit. And I never batted an eye to how you felt. That was egotistical of me. A dick move. And I’ve realized that.

“I’ve been stupid since the beginning of this. I mean, what type of person comes up with the idea that they’re cursed to never date someone interested in macaroni and cheese?” you joked.

Sukuna sighed. “You know, I agreed to your ‘curse removal’ thing because I never experienced true romantic love. But, in the end, you only gave me my first experience of true romantic heartbreak.”

“Uhm, yeah, I’m—I’m really, really sorry, Sukuna. Feelings always confuse me, and—and I didn’t say yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend because I loved him. It’s you who I feel that way towards. . .” you cringed at yourself. “I dragged you into this mess; and I fucked up. I just want you to know, that, me agreeing to be Naoki’s girlfriend was only because I didn’t know how to say otherwise. I felt . . . obligated? to say ‘yes’ and so I did. But, love isn’t really my strong suit. And, I know it sounds cheesy to say this, but, taking everything into account, this kind of reminds me of what Plato wrote about soulmates. 

“That, humans used to originally have four arms, four legs, and two faces. Until, as a punishment for our pride, Zeus split humans in half. And now, we’re left destined to walk the earth searching for our other half.” 

You sighed, exhausted with guilt.

“Yeah, I messed up, really bad, and you may hate me forever now—I wouldn’t blame you—but, I think I’ll always be drawn back to you. And,” you paused, looking up at the moon above, “I can’t say I’m complaining. As long as it’s you I’m destined to.”

Sukuna remained silent throughout the whole time you explained yourself. He felt . . . conflicted, to say the least. He knew he shouldn’t forgive you, but his heart ached, and longed. Sukuna had spent the days apart from you reflecting and going over everything that happened. And, in conclusion, he still loved you. Honestly, if you stabbed him and removed the blade before doing the same thing, Sukuna would probably still love you.

His stomach churned, and his eyebrows furrowed, as his turmoil consumed most of him.

“This might be a bad time to say this, but,” Sukuna turned to you, whispering, “I only liked macaroni and cheese because I ate it with you. You made the meal enjoyable, because we ate it together. As a couple, as friends, whatever. And, in full honesty. . . I fucking hate macaroni and cheese.”

Sukuna expected you to respond in shock, maybe even curse him out a bit, but you didn’t. At least, you didn’t let any emotion show on your face. Instead, you merely continued staring at the stars and the moon in the inky, dark night sky. Silent, eyes unblinking, and body unmoving.

The curse was never about macaroni and cheese. It was about true love. Those relationships with other people who liked macaroni and cheese weren’t successful because they were all with the wrong person. You weren’t cursed. You were in love, without knowing it.

“Look up, Sukuna,” you whispered, entirely focused on the stars. “Don’t you think. . .” 

Your voice trailed off, but Sukuna finished your sentence for you.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

“. . .Yes. Yes, it is.”

Love truly was the most twisted curse of all.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒

A/N: ngl, i feel like i kinda rushed this ending, but im glad its done so whatever. here are some details you might've missed <3

[he4rtiz]

[𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 ⋆ 𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞]

or, haku comforts you in his own unique way

pairing: haku kusanagi x f!reader author’s note: first fic in i don’t know how long and my first fic for tokyo debunker, everyone cheers! this fic is quite comical... at least for me lol to be honest this fic was born out of my love for haku, he and his flirting got me sick!!!! i demand more scenes in which haku flirts with mc!!!!!! possible ooc!haku but bear with me pls

english isn't my native language!

Your days at Darkwick Academy were never boring enough, not when every single ghoul and staff member was able to double down your already tiring and tedious workload. 

Your days spent running from house to house, from task to task, without even being able to take a small break.

Today wasn’t different from usual. Your day started with helping Kaito with his remedial classes, then you gave Sho a hand with Highway to Home, only to then sprinting towards Jabberwock to stop Towa from striking down an anomalous creature who accidentally hurt Haru, to then team up with Haru to bring Ren back to Jabberwock.

Cue said fugitive yelling about you and that clown not understanding the basic concept of boundaries.

Of course, your day wasn’t even far from being done. Your lunch break was cut short when you received a lovely call from Romeo, and between all the acronyms he yelled, you only understood that BTH, aka Sinostra’s famous troublemaker captain, was up to no good. 

You had just a minute to say goodbye to the delicious food Sho gave you, unceremoniously left on the table half-finished.

And there you were, sprinting towards Sinostra to avoid explaining to the Chancellor how in the hell the Darkiwick Academy population decreased in a few minutes. And why it was always Sinostra’s fault.

Not even the time to breathe, that you found yourself on Jiro’s shoulder as he and Yuri, who didn’t forget to remind you that he was a busy man, and he didn’t have time to play hide and seek with you, went straight to Mortkraken for your daily medical visit. Your fault? Forgetting about said medical visit.

At least you were able to relax a bit, until your phone rang up for the nth time, and it was Frostheim captain’s turn to call for your help, or in other words, giving you some tedious task he considered boring. 

Great, you were not done yet.

Maybe it was time to create a trade union with the cats and demand less work hours…

You were done for the day, at least until your phone rang up once more. 

Sitting on a bench with your eyes closed, your body relaxed under the gentle breeze of the night, a sigh of relief left your lips, you survived another hellish day, at least it wasn’t as bad as others. Luckily this time, you didn’t have to run and miss Romeo’s bullets as he tried to hunt you and Kaito down, all because the blonde still hasn’t paid his debt.

Tired and hungry, you groaned, your eyes opening to find the moon, half-moon to be more precise, shining all alone, as no stars were around.

You and that moon were so similar; the moon shining all alone in the dark night, and you alone in an academy full of ghouls and trying to find a cure to your curse.

Suddenly you felt the presence of someone, and before you could realize what was happening, a bag was dropped on your lap.

“There you are, [Name].” A familiar voice said, a so gentle one compared to the ones you were used to, and you realized who the voice belonged to. It was Haku.

“Why so surprised? You weren’t expecting me, how cruel~” He joked as he sat down next to me.

“Haku-san! Why are you here? Is everything alright at Hotarubi? Ther-” Haku stopped before you could say more.

A light frown adorned his face, as his finger was gently silencing your rambling, before with his other hand gently flicked your forehead. 

“You worry too much about the others. You should learn to focus first on yourself and then take care of us. We may look helpless to you, but we aren’t.” He scolded you, his expression still serious.

You whined a little, your fingers massaging your forehead. It was the second time that Haku flicked your forehead, it seemed his favourite scolding method.

 “I am… I am sorry.” You murmured “I will focus more on my well-being…”

He nodded before he pointed to the bag on your lap. “I brought you some food, with all that running you did today, I am sure you’re more than hungry. I bought everything from that first-year’s truck. The one from Vagastrom.”

Your eyes shined brightly after opening the bag, Sho’s food was a fricking God’s gift after a long and tiring day. 

“W-What!? Thank you so much, Haku-san!” You grinned as you happily ate your dinner. Haku, on the other hand, just chuckled at your grin.

You were so hungry that in a flash, the once full of food bag was now empty. As per usual, the food Sho cooked was delicious. 

“Thank you again for the food, Haku-san. “ You thanked him sincerely, a shy smile on your lips, you always felt in debt with him, he was always there whenever you need him. Even the small gesture of buying your dinner, that for many would be seen as something small, for you was a silent message, a gesture meaning he was always there to give you a hand when you were feeling down or in need of help. 

Pushing a strand of your hair aside, you turned towards him, smiling shyly. His presence was charming enough that even a simple smile from him, was enough to fluster you.

“Haku-san… Sometimes I think you like spoiling me, you’re always with me when I am in troubles. You always lend me your shoulders, and you always hear me out. I don’t know how to thank you enough. I am so glad to have you by my side.” You confessed, your eyes now on your lap, trying to hide your flushed expression. 

A pregnant silence fell, you slowly realized that your words might sound like a confession of a sort. Panic flew in your body as you furiously tried to explain yourself, and embarrassment blossomed on your face.

“H-Haku-san, i-it’s not like that! I-I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t wan-” He just chuckled, shaking his head, his fingers running through his hair as he looked at your flustered reaction.

“You’re something else, [Name].” He snickered “Spoiling you…” He muttered, before a sly smile unfolded on his lips.

“You know… “ He began “I don’t mind spoiling you, and if you really feel guilty you can always marry me. Then you won’t worry about being spoiled.”

Oh my god…

Oh my god…

You were sure now you were blushing like crazy, how could he say something like that with that nonchalance?!

“H-H-Haku-san!” You whined out, jumping on your feet, your heart pounding furiously, almost leaping out your rib cage.

The Hotarubi vice-captain maybe took pity of your flustered state, as he got up too, his hand ruffling your hair.

“Take your time, my offer is always up~” He teased, winking.

You prayed that God took mercy of you and made you disappear immediately.

“C’mon princess, don’t stay there, I will escort back you to the chapel. And on our way back, you can always think about my offer~”

He was going to be your death, in one way or in the other.

[jolapeno]

I’m embarrassed to ask but so many fav’s are going there so how do you use ao3?

hello hello!

do not be embarrassed at all! and hopefully, i can try and help.

now, i wish to preface this by saying there's likely guides already on tumblr and i don't mean to be rehashings what they might already say/have shared, but I'm going to try and give a run down of things that might help. now, I've done this as if you're a reader, but if you're a writer and want help, pop back in!

I asked my good friend @toomanytookas for help with this one so I knew we was covering off a lot and she lovingly helped me with finding some additional resources to support my bits!

searching for your people

there are a few different search options available on AO3 to find the things you want. if you know the name of the user, you can use the search bar (as seen below).

or if you're after a certain pairing, you can use the search option.

you can then search from: works, bookmarks, tags or people.

i tend to use "works" but, others may have their own preferences. but i find this is the easiest way for me to find the things i'm after.

i don't tend to fill in every bit of info, but the ones i do are in 'work tags':

fandoms

relationships

additional tags

i might check 'single chapter' (in work info) if i just want to read a one shot, but most of the time i just see what spits up. for me, additional tags is what makes navigating AO3 so much easier because I can filter by a trope (friends to lovers, colleagues, second chances) or i can filter by a "mood" (smut, fluff etc.). when you've filled in your desired bits you can click search and then your results will show.

ANOTHER great way to search is if you already know the pairing you're after. so say you're reading a Francisco morales x reader and you want MORE of that, click that tag on a piece of work and a new search will show up of all the works with that pairing.

you then have a new filter choice on the right where you can 'exclude' tags or characters too.

there's also this guide i found from 2020!

there’s also this way of searching too! with an addition from @burntheedges

another cool resource on excluding too

-

2. supporting your people

so, you've found yourself a writer you adore, and you've read a piece of their work. if this is a one shot, you can:

drop a kudos (like a like, but you can only ever give it once)

leave a comment (even writing "love it" or an emoji makes a day)

bookmark (this is more for you if you loved it, you can bookmark things and they save to YOUR bookmarks and you can read again without searching for it - like a lil library)

now, say that piece is a multi-chap/collection, and you want to subscribe and be notified, you can 'subscribe' at the top of the fic

bookmarks do not notify you of a new chapter, but a subscribe will.

if you love the writer and want to know as soon as they drop anything, you can click their name, go to their profile and click 'subscribe' just under their name in the top right.

here’s a resource too!!

here’s a resource on why bookmarks/comments are cool

-

3. going back in time... the AO3 way

okay, we've all been there when you're engrossed in something and then life happens and you close a tab or your phone crashes (tumblr app, grr) and then the work is lost. on AO3, if you're logged in, you have a thing called 'my history' and in this is every work you've clicked on. wahay! this has saved me so often because i flick between phone and laptop a lot.

-

4. a final thing to be aware of...

warnings - a writer can choose to give a warning to the piece. many will use 'creator chose not to use archive warnings' or 'no archive warnings apply', but there are a few to keep an eye out for, such as:

graphics depiction of violence

major character death

rape/non-con

underage

'choose not to use warnings' is a read at your own risk, and i always recommend checking out the additional tags for the piece just so you know if there's any trigger warnings.

a resource on excluding (mentioned above too)

-

this is just a top level thought process of what i thought might help, but if there's any specific questions i will deffo try to help. this resource has a ton of helpful things too. there's also AO3 FAQs which might be able to help if i didn't actually help. and this absolutely brilliant guide created too!

thank you for the ask, and happy AO3'ing 🧡

[vickyvicarious]

Today's entry is full of Lucy/Jonathan parallels. It's so many throughout... I can't possibly quote every single one, but here are a few big things.

I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

vs

If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. (5 May)

+

These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready. (30 July)

Lucy is writing with the specific intent of keeping anyone else from getting into trouble through her - in other words, so none of the maids or her doctors or whoever will be blamed for her murder if she dies before the night is through. The first quote from Jonathan is not really a direct match to this sentiment, of course. But while I couldn't remember a perfect quote to compare, we see hints throughout his journal that Jonathan is writing in the hopes that someone else might someday see it. Perhaps Mina, perhaps some other guest to the castle... he hopes that the explanation of what happened to him, and detailing of what Dracula is, will prove useful. Perhaps it will help someone else protect themself - just like Lucy hopes here. (This is of course not his only reason for writing. Another major reason why is how it helps to keep him sane and helps him plan escapes. Still, it is one of his reasons.) And certainly, the sentiment that the record is important to keep even at risk to oneself, is a shared link between them. Both of them also show a determination to face their death directly.

This line is also an echo of the various times Jonathan (and, more recently, Jack) experienced something seemingly impossibly horrific, and made a big point that they were writing things down exactly as they happened.

The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling; the dogs all round the neighbourhood were howling; and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing.

vs

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! (24 June)

Lucy awakens after the first attack of the night to the sound of dogs howling (amongst other things). Jonathan too has been saved from a trance by this noise, though in his case it was a close call. Dracula certainly seems to have successfully hypnotized her and most likely did drink from her between his arrival in the room (the dust swirling in) and the maids'.

What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.

vs

I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. (8 May)

+

What shall I do? what can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful thing of night and gloom and fear? (24 June)

+

Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:— "Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. (29 June)

These are only a few of the lines that Lucy's quote reminds me of. This is the big one, there's so much to connect in it.

Like Jonathan, Lucy is alone with the dead. Dracula has sabotaged her only chance of reaching out to other people for aid (drugged maids = workers in the yard, people who saw Dracula dressed as Jonathan). She also feels duty-bound to stay by her mother's side, in a way which reminds me of Jonathan's feeling of obligation towards Mr. Hawkins (all the more as Mina's letter today emphasizes how familial their relationship has become). Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot see any options to escape from the living nightmare she is experiencing.

Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot leave because if she does, she fears a wolf will get her. (Much like Jonathan, she is earlier in her memorandum able to distinguish a wolf howl from a dog's, despite never hearing one before.) Even though she does not really expect to live through the night, she cannot make the choice to go out and face almost certain death. She's even recently seen the wolf kill a mother, to really drive the comparison with Jonathan's experiences home. (A contrast between the two is, of course, the mother he saw die was trying to rescue/avenge her dead child, but was too late. Mrs. Westenra seeks comfort from her daughter tonight, and as she dies unwittingly steals away Lucy's protection (garlic), thus holding true to her role of accidentally endangering her further.)

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

vs

Then I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. (24 June)

+

God help me in my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend and second father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina! (25 June)

(I've run out of new colors and am recycling. These aren't meant to match to the above instances of these colors.)

Like Jonathan described his experience being hypnotized by the vampire ladies, Lucy too sees Dracula's form as circling specks (twice, in fact, the other quote being above). The lights going blue and dim are also reminiscent of the various times Jonathan describes moonlight at the Castle. I especially think of just before he meets the vampire women, when he muses about the powers that modernity cannot defeat, and his modern lighting is contrasted to the moonlit room. Here, Lucy's modern lighting is going out as the supernatural invades her bedroom.

Lucy bids her final farewells to her mother and her fiance. In the quote I gave, Jonathan does the same for his father figure and his fiancee. Both of them invoke God for help. Both of them end their entries with this thinking of the one they love most. Jonathan of course does this multiple times, but I'm only quoting this one instance as it feels like the closest match overall.

And once again, we also see multiple comparisons beyond what I directly quoted. Lucy reiterates her expectation of death as in the quote at the top, and even chooses to hide her memorandum in her clothes, much as Jonathan hid his diary on his person at all times. (The difference being, he wanted to hide it from Dracula; she wants to ensure hers is seen by someone.)

[ghouldtime]

Tomorrow. (An "Alone. Truly Alone." Drabble)

Wrote this because I was getting stumped on Chapter three. Have a little tiny Ghoap moment ;3

I love him so much look at him!! What a guy!! (Also being able to actually see him in motion has helped me so much trying to figure out how to write him)

Mwah I wanna kiss his face

CW: Mentions of blood, death and dying. Nothing too graphic but it's still very much there! It's angsty too

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Tomorrow.

Oh, how he loathed that one, single, simple wretched word uttered carelessly without as so much as a second thought by so many. How he hated tomorrow. 

Tomorrow stood as an uncertain promise held aloft every evening as the sands of time trickled through their limitless hourglass, slowly emptying into the chalice that soon would turn as the earth once again shone a different face to the sun. Tomorrow wasn’t something anyone could truly count on when the tides could shift in an instance, changing everything you knew. Simon Riley knew that better than anyone.

Serving years slaving away in arid deserts and frozen tundras alike with nothing but the weighty gear on his back and a gun in his hand meant he knew better than any other that tomorrow was a measure of time, nothing more. No matter how many times tomorrow had been said, promised, spoken so truly imbued with intent already plotted on its horizon, it didn’t change fate. It didn’t change whether you were going to make it to then or not. The world didn’t care if you made it through or to tomorrow. It only made tomorrow happen.

How many tomorrows had passed since he had been trapped in this washed-out, colorless hell surrounded by walls damning him to eternal solitary confinement with no promise of escape was something he couldn’t answer.  The sun had long since ceased warming him with its golden rays in the morning and the moon had made itself scarce, never showing when it hung in the twinkling night sky. A being damned to purgatory didn’t deserve such warmth or beauty. Every wall encasing him determined such a thing would be true as long as he lived in his unliving state. Cold and unfeeling, nothing he did could change the immovable fate that shackled him down and buried him alive in the cement cage.

That didn't stop him from etching the passage of everything he loosely guessed was a day into the walls. Keeping track of something, as minute as it may be, at least kept him saner than he would be with nothing else. Carving into the walls with the few tiny metallic medical tools that had been abandoned and left to rot, the same as him, stood as the only form of retribution against his prison that he could manage.

Each nick, dig, and mark struck against it stood in a silent testament to say that he lived despite death itself having clasped its frigid, clammy hands around his neck as it choked him out until his lifeforce faded. Every insignificantly significant tiny white line marring the concrete stood in testament that even if he was trapped, the bitter taste of defeat still remained foreign on his decaying tongues. His normal body may have long been forgotten and replaced with too many twisted limbs and cerberic heads, but he was still Simon; the very same Simon that would fight with all of his too many teeth and blackened nails until his true final breath.

Though his life had been forced from his mortal shell with the reaper's digging claws until it was pulled from his body, he still somehow lived. How fitting of an "end" for someone like Simon, someone who couldn't even catch a breath when the dark angel came calling his name, only to turn him back to the world as it took a part of him with it. True peace was never fitting for him, he supposed. When all of his life was spent dedicating to fighting, it's only expected he would go toe to toe with his own mortality too.

Yet this pathetic existence hardly classified as what he could call living. He breathed, yes, air filled his lungs but it served no function. Nor did the existence of his heart or any of his organs that were little more than placeholders these days. It was a blessing to be some form of alive and to still have his brain perfectly functioning, but being trapped in this shell stood as an eternal, tormenting curse. Punishment for escaping death one too many times, endlessly taunting it as he dodged all too many bullets, is often how it seemed.

Death would've been the preferable option than staying trapped in the decaying government facility alone and the body that held him prisoner to match.

How he wished he could be permanently buried in the dirt, his eyes closed in a true state of rest. The waking world was a poor imitation of what he hoped death's true embrace would feel like as it came calling his name once more and beckoned a single, crooked skeletal finger. Thin, yellowing sheets that covered the dusty hospital beds where he lay each night offered little comfort for the constant numbness surrounding him in a static void.

Every physical sensation that brushed against his poor-excuse for flesh drowned in the barrier of his unalive state before it could reach him. Heat, cold, pain, pleasure, hunger, thirst - none of those things mattered to a being who could no longer feel in such a corporeal sense.

The same couldn't be said for his feelings. Now that the pesky things such as normal human bodily needs abandoned his form, his heart and mind made up for their absence tenfold as they held him down and forced him to feel everything and anything in between in the murkiest depths of his soul. Like a twisting, red-hot blade they relentlessly engraved their grievances on chunks of his very essence, permanently scorching his soul as they scarred far deeper than any of the hundreds of weapons that had been turned against him ever could hope to.

Despite the stillness of his heart and the absence of what used to be a steady, rhythmic beat, his heart still burned as if it were thrown into the deepest depths of hell whenever he turned his gaze and locked eyes at the tiny picture on his nightstand of him and Soap together, blacked out in tactical gear. He should've thrown an arm around him and made their last picture together more memorable - but it was too late for that. Should've was already too late. He was too late.

The extra heads forced together by sinewy webbing never were much help when it came to focusing with his already clouded vision. Straining to look as he brought the picture closer to his faces, to truly see through all of his eyes, was minor inconvenience he could bare. For it meant that his eyes were graced with three sets, three times, the visage seared into his memory of the one who took on the world for him. The same one who fought for the world, his world, and so readily gave it up for him without a second of a hesitation. He deserved that at the very least - to be seen, recognized, admired. Johnny deserved that and the world itself.

Pouring pure alcohol into his veins and setting it alight would hurt less than the pang of primal agony that rippled through him, shredding his heart and spitting its venom into his soul, whenever he set the picture down and glanced at his left size where an arm - Johnny’s arm, lay fused to his own. Taught skin webbed between it and where his own original arm stood long before he became an abomination and a product of science going too far. The strong fingers that had cradled his hand so gently throughout some nights when the other thought he was asleep, the hand that strangled, shot, and killed for him - now usually clung to the tattoos that inked up his flesh as if afraid to let it go once more even in this harrowing state.

The single limb agonizingly sacrificed to him remained the only one didn’t have perfect control over. It never fully listened, much like the man it came from. No matter the orders he barked at the sergeant, he wasn't one to heed with his head alone. Sometimes that noble, brave heart of his that let him charge up the ranks so fast took the reigns before he could do anything about it.

Stand down, Johnny.

Get out of there, MacTavish.

Don't you dare, Johnny. It's not worth it. Not for me.

....

The longer he lived with the errant limb and dealt with the non-compliance, and the usual near constant grip on his forearm, in a twisted way, he didn’t want things to change. He didn't want it to listen. That wouldn't be Johnny's arm - that wouldn't be Johnny if it did. It wouldn't be the last solid reminder he had if it complied, even if it was connected to his consciousness now.

For now, it was something he could cling onto like a starving dog lapping up scraps of meat outside the back of a butcher shop. Deep down, he knew that he was feeding the delusions as he blindly clawed for anything he could cling onto as a reminder, but bringing himself to care enough to stop wasn't an option (as unhealthy as it might be). Living with the miniscule fantasy served as a balm to his gouged soul that bled out more and more as the seasons marched on and days tumbled forward into one another. It was enough for a man like him who would scavenge for anything his many hands could get ahold of, clinging to any threads as if they could carry him out of the abyss until they inevitably crumbled to dust under the crushing weight of him.

Some nights as he lay on the creaky hospital bed staring up at the same blank ceiling that matched the same gray that covered his senses in a blinding fog, he could almost pretend that Johnny was still here, still talking to him in the thick brogue that was so distinctly him, still smelling of the scotch he loved so much tinged with gunpowder from all the explosives he had set up.

If he closed all six of his milky eyes, the phantom sensation of Johnny's warm form beside him as he imagined him close once more nearly caused him to feel something along his sensationless form. Those deft fingers that worked along intricate wires of dangerous weapons never followed the same pattern twice as he traced his tattoos in the same routine he had many nights before as they lay near one another underneath a flimsy tarp deep in enemy territory, the uncertainty of their own mortal lives continuing for another sunrise strung along the stressful line of their work.

And sometimes if he truly shut off his brain, his mind could truly run wild as it conjured up the words he’d heard so many times before. The same point of contention uttered once more that Johnny always circled back to as he marveled the black lines marbling Simon's skin, “You really should let me color ‘em, LT.” He’d breathe, voice so quiet it could be lost on a breeze as he stared at them with the softest look he had seen on the sergeant’s face, a quiet contemplation written in the furrow of his brows.

If confronted, he knew it would be played off as a joke and nothing more. But the way the roughened pads of his fingers traced the whorls permanently etched into his skin spoke otherwise, echoing words and feelings that ran deep that neither dared to voice. Every moment he lay there alone in his new "life", regret sank its fangs into the vulnerable underbelly of his heart, the heavy feeling settling like molten lead in his stomach as he berated himself for not touching him back, even if it was a tentative hand smoothing a thumb over the back of his.

No matter how many nights and countless times Johnny fell into the routine of tracing his tattoos, Simon's dark gaze would fall right back over the other to trace the tired lines on the other's face and the stubble of his jaw with his eyes. His fingers always twitched restlessly as they lay folded on his chest, aching to feel something aside from the fabric underneath. Yet the ugly, grating voice of doubt pestered him until he hesitated, never letting him the courage to reach up and caress him, even for a second.

His turmoil was obvious to anyone who knew him like Johnny did. The tension in his body, the near constant movement of his fingers, the unblinking look in his eyes as he couldn't help but to stare. But Johnny was smart, significantly smarter than many gave him credit for. He knew better than to point it out with his voice alone but the small upward twitch of his lips spoke a thousand words as he shifted closer, closer.

“Add a little more color to your life. Things can’t always be black and white.” Johnny always insisted as he leaned further in, the weight of his body sinking in, nurturing the warmth blooming in his chest.

Breathing had never been harder as those blue eyes peered up at him through dark lashes. All air left his lungs in a flash, his heart halting as he stared into those eyes, helplessly held captive by those beautiful blues that would put the finest aquamarine gems to shame.

How he wished he listened.

What he wouldn't give to go back to that moment, if only for a fraction of a second, to get lost in those expressive pools of his newfound favorite color.

No amount of time nor disease would pry that memory from him as he lingered in the stagnant, abandoned base. The warmth he felt that night bloomed within his chest even now, even when hindered and reduced to nothing more than a faint fuzzy feeling tickling his chest.

Not even the fusion of the two heads on the side of his could even hope to gnaw it away with their own plaguing whispers and intrusive thoughts that bit through his skull as they tried to worm their way into his brain like the parasites that they were. But he wouldn’t let them. Nothing could.

No, nothing could make him forget Johnny. Not even the end of his world as he knew it. Death may have taken him temporarily into his clutches, dangling him between the precipice of life, but that wasn't enough. Because his world didn't end when he died, no. That was insignificant. His world ended not when he rasped his last breath, endless rivers of crimson spilling onto the operating table. It ended when he used the last of his energy to tilt his head to take one last look at Johnny, knowing that he would never see him again.

...

Endless amounts of tomorrows could add up in the gouges of more tally marks and scores into the wall, covering every nano angstrom of the base and he still would loathe them with all the contempt his heart could well up until it sat in a venomous soaked vat of his festering rage.

He hated tomorrows because each mark was another reminder of the tomorrow that wasn't to come, the tomorrow swiped from underneath his feet by fate's cruel hand, the tomorrow he promised, the tomorrow that would never be - the tomorrow with Johnny.

[emeryhiro]

What are your thoughts about the whole bethyl thing? I personally saw it more as Daryl finding hope and light when he was in a place of deep despair - she showed him that there's still good to be seen in the world. And so it was a major loss to him personally when she died. Plus she helped him process part of his past trauma.

But I've seen Norman Reedus and Greg Nicotero say that while romance wasn't scripted, there was a taste of it in the air when it came to acting choices. I hate that idea bc she was a teenager and it makes me feel less good about Daryl. I guess I'd hope that if he started catching some feelings "he didn't understand" (as NR puts it), then he would see that they're too far apart in other ways for it to go beyond a father/daughter big brother/little sister sort of bond. What do you think?

Hey Anon!

Thank you for your questions 😊 I'm sorry it took me some time to respond. I just wanted to be careful with what I say and how I explain my opinion since the last thing I want to do is disregard or disrespect anyone else's opinions on the topic.

I agree with you. I always saw that the reason Daryl grew to care so much for Beth was because she gave him hope and didn't allow him to shut off from the world after he thought he'd lost everything and everyone that mattered to him. This ultimately made him feel like he owed her because she saved him, maybe not in the literal sense, but definitely mentally. Her persistence ultimately leads him to finding everyone again.

Only hours before having to be on the run with Beth, Rick had told Daryl about how he'd sent Carol away for killing Karen and David, and we saw how defeated that made Daryl feel. Realising that Carol had to shoulder that responsibility on her own and that he wasn't able to be there to stand up for her put him in a really bad place mentally.

This guilt was then compounded by the governor returning to the prison and killing Hershel infront of everyone, and the guilt that Daryl felt for giving up his search for Governor, which in his mind was the reason Hershel died and they lost the prison.

So all these things combined meant that Daryl felt responsible for EVERYTHING that had just happened TO EVERYONE. And no one was there to help him sholder that pain and responsibility.

Ultimetly his instincts kick in, all the walls that he'd slowly been breaking down come right back up, and he starts to go cold again just to numb himself from everything he's feeling.

And this is where Beth came in. Firstly, her innocence and optimism was the only thing stopping Daryl from completely shutting off from the world. She kept reminding him that the other's could have made it and that if they got out then odds are others must have as well. And secondly, she kept him busy, she was something that needed his protection and that gave him porpose and a reason to keep going.

After Beth gets taken, Daryl ends up with The Claimers, who he thinks are exactly the type of people he deserves to be around, because (in his mind) he can't seem to be capable of keeping and protecting anything good that comes his away, but by some miracle he's reunited with Rick, Carl and Michonne again, and this is where he realises that Beth was right, and if Rick and co have made it then it probably means others have as well.

I think this moment above was the beginning of Daryl starting to believe that he has value again. Rick's words begin to soften him again, but even after reuniting with almost everyone again, we don't actually see Daryl's guard come down until this moment below.

Every single shield/wall he'd been putting up until now is instantly shattered. He's completely exposed in this moment. His mind and body take a few seconds to register what his eyes are seeing and what his heart is feeling, and he's instantly running to Carol and into her arms without any other thought. This is the moment we can get a true reading of his feelings.

Regarding how he felt for Beth...

Yes, I think there may have been some confusion from Daryl's side about what he was feeling for Beth, just like how Norman has described it previously; he cared for Beth, she was nice to him, and that was so rare in his life that he misread the whole situation and couldn't interpret what he was actually feeling. In my opinion, there was no romantic feeling or intent on either side; they were both just navigating a new form of friendship that they'd never experienced before. And if I had to, I'd compare his relationship with Beth to his relationship with Lydia. To put it very simply, he felt responsible for protecting these young girls who, at the time, had no one else on their side, and ultimately, both girls saved him in return and looked up to him as a role model.

~~~~

Thanks again for the questions 🩵 I really hope I did this justice because my main goal is to keep my blog a positive place for everyone.

I know there are many varying opinions on this topic, but I'm glad I got the chance to share mine, and I just wanted to once again say that this is my opinion and not meant to invalidate anyone else's 🩵

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Devil's Luck - Dr. Fearless/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (with some masc nicknames), nothing but typical Fearless failcringe (we love it).

Wordcount: 6836

Summary: Your luck was so weird, you could end up doing something random like win a contest to an online horror host's livestream thanks to a friend, and somehow manage to meet your soulmate, but that might be pushing it, right?

Notes: My first Fearless >:3 this was part of a trade with the wonderful @lakesofneptune for writing me Matty 💗/)//w//(\💗 it was amazing, so in return I've put on my fangs and written this 🧛 I hope you all enjoy~ 🖤🖤🖤

You didn't know how your luck worked, but boy was it prevalent in the weirdest of ways. Hitting every single detour to the point of being late, and still managing to do it on the one day of the month where it somehow still benefited you. Losing your wallet right before you need to pay for groceries, and having it be returned by the hottest person in the store just in time. Entering a random contest because your best friend only wanted half of the prize, and knowing your track record he’d written down your name on the off chance you won, so naturally you did.

That was how you ended up here on a late Monday night of all nights, the details given to you by your friend just hours before as he excitedly barged into your apartment with the announcement email printed off. You'd just gotten home, and he knew that since you were neighbours, the man waiting for you with bated breath it seemed as you watched him slap the paper down on your counter while you were still in the process of taking off your coat. ‘I just made your whole night,’ he boldly claimed, and you just blinked at him while you remained frozen mid-removal. ‘You just won the privilege to be on TV, courtesy of me! Well, not exactly, but it is being livestreamed, that's where the channel is- nevermind, just get ready, there's a dress code for this so you fit in, I wish they'd sent this earlier, we might've had time to do your hair.’

You blinked again as he spoke, his hands wild and his eyes scanning your closet for something that would fit said dress code, and you finished taking off your coat and set it over the back of your couch. ‘Uh, hello to you too,’ you said as you moved on to your shoes, not bothered at all as he started motioning for you to move a little faster. 

‘Okay, I know this doesn't happen for a few hours, but you really do need to get ready,’ he insisted as he headed for your closet and inspected it more closely, your pair of black boots you saved for winter coming out along with the trenchcoat you bought as part of a Halloween costume years ago and just never donated when you were done with it.

‘What the hell are you dressing me as?’ you asked with a curious raise of your eyebrows at the startings of the ensemble, and he seemed unsure about the coat but ultimately set it aside with the boots. He didn't answer you, just rushed to your bedroom to raid your other closet presumably, and you sighed and followed him before he made a mess. 

‘Need dark clothes, spikes, leather, uh… you still have the rest of that costume? I can lend you some of my stuff if you don’t,’ he wondered without even looking at you, and you resigned yourself to your fate and started to dig through the boxes buried behind all the stuff you actually wore.

‘If this is for some kinda sex thing-’

‘It’s not! It's classy, just gothic, I swear,’ he insisted when your outfit was chosen, and as you stared down at it you had to trust your weird luck and that your friend wouldn't lead you astray.

‘Fine, so what is this? Something livestreamed, am I like, putting on a presentation? Do I need to memorize anything?’ There was no fighting this, might as well go with the flow, it would be less painful this way when he brought you to this mysterious location.

‘Well, there's this channel I watch, and they're all about horror, you know how much I love horror; anyway, they got two tickets to that new vampire movie that's coming out, we're talking premium seats, free popcorn, opening night, it's sick as hell. So they started a contest, write them an email about how much you love horror and the first place winner gets the tickets as well as a spot on the show when they go to collect them, and that's gunna be you!’ It was then you noticed that he was dressed a little fancier than usual, his hair was slicked back and he was wearing eyeliner, his own gothness upped a few levels for the occasion.

‘Lemme guess, the winner gets to bring a friend,’ you figured, your reflection showing you a pair of vampires by the time you were done, it was almost kind of funny. 

‘Of course, it's first prize, plus I'm not leaving without those tickets,’ he told you matter of factly, and he looked you over before humming to himself and snapping his fingers. He pulled out an eyeliner pen from his pocket and quickly applied it to you, he was very prepared for this, and you had to admit it did look like you were about to hit the local goth club or something like this. ‘That'll have to do, time to head out, thank you so much for doing this for me, you know how much I hate being on camera.’

‘Oh, so that's why I'm the scapegoat here,’ you realized flatly while you did up your shoes, but he completely missed or ignored your sarcastic tone. 

‘It's just for a half hour, the host is pretty eccentric and he does bits between the movies, so most of your appearance will be banter, and you know how bad I am with that,’ he reminded you like you weren't already well aware of how he clammed up the moment someone shot a quip back at him. ‘So based on the other guests I've seen, you'll just go on, do some talking about horror stuff - which you can bullshit your way through, you've known me long enough - announce a short film submitted to or found by the producers, and then whatever movie is playing next. After that you'll probably get my tickets, we can get outta there, and I’ll tell you if the movie is any good.’

‘Wha- I don't even get to go after all this?’

‘Hell no, you know I’ve been trying to ask that girl down at the 2nd floor out, this is the perfect date, actually perfect, I can’t- I cannot waste this on just us hanging out, can’t do it man, I’m sorry,’ he apologized profusely while also managing to sound not sorry at all, something he was incredibly good at.

‘Alright, but if she doesn’t go for it, I want that second seat,’ you bargained, to which he gladly agreed as thanks for you doing this. That settled, he picked the paper back up off the counter and led the way to his car; the place was some rented building in what used to be a stripmall, all the shops around it closed and rented out for various reasons like this, between self storage, an apartment you were pretty sure, and a small-time but very heavily guarded liquor store. It wasn't impressive, but it brought life to the place you could see as people filled the normally empty parking lot now that the sun had set and the show was about to be in progress.

You’d learned that while it was livestreamed for its channel, they also opened their doors to the locals as well to stop in, catch a movie, and donate if they liked what was going on. You could see that the small crowd they drew were very much into it, no one there ironically to your surprise, and you started to worry that maybe bullshitting your way through your half hour wouldn’t be as easy as your friend thought; you were a casual enjoyer of horror compared to him, and these other people. You liked to see the latest stuff with your favourite B-Tier actor in it when he reappeared for roles, and you enjoyed the popular classics and the odd camp as much as the next guy, but could you get away with that when the person walking in front of you had the bride of Dracula shaved into his hair?

‘I don’t think I can do this, they’ll know I didn’t write the letter,’ you gulped when you transitioned from stripmall to eerily decorated rooms, the whole place looking more like you were about to enter a haunted house than a set. 

‘Shit, I knew I forgot something, I printed it off so you could read it, maybe drop a line or two,’ he hissed before he was forcing a huge smile and presenting his winning ticket even though it should’ve been you. The ticket taker, a tall woman with bright red hair and too many piercings to count, looked you both over before motioning for a shorter woman with white hair done up in high twintails with fake devil horns on her headband to lead your way, and you followed her nervously until you reached the set. It was done up even more than the foyer, two plush chairs with an old box tv between them as the main attraction while the rest was decorated to look like a castle library you presumed.

There was a coffin in the left corner right before the backdrop ended, candles galore - although you were sure they were mostly for show, burnt down until the wax got everywhere while fake ones were hidden between - as well as jars filled with various things. There were so many fake cobwebs you were sure some real ones were bound to be mixed in by now, and even a fake fireplace and chandelier hung from the ceiling next to the boom mic. It was a pretty well-loved set, every nook and cranny you could see positively filled with Halloween and horror themed things; while it looked cheap to buy, everything was touched up and placed with great care, and even now people were leaving tips and browsing the small corner of the room dedicated to themed treats as well as the graciously flowing popcorn maker.

‘Wow, this is the real deal,’ you said aloud before you could help yourself, and instantly you felt a presence behind you that wasn't your friend or the woman who’d brought you over.

‘Indeed, welcome to my humble abode, I trust you’re the lucky vic- I mean, guest I’ll have the honour of sitting with tonight?’ It was a man’s voice, heavy with an over the top Transylvanian accent, and when you turned you were very much not ready to see who it belonged to; out of everyone there, it was clear even from a distance that this was your host, your eyes looking up and up until you met his own. He was pale, caked in makeup to make him appear almost dead, his eyes surrounded by more black than you’d ever seen on anyone outside of Halloween, with a thin, red scar trailing from his forehead to his cheek and a pair of long Nosferatu-style fangs resting over his bottom lip. 

He was all dressed up in his vampiric best, from the black suit overtop his silky, purple shirt, to the red jeweled medallion hanging between the clasps of his impressively expensive-looking cape, but none of that was what really caught your eye. No, it was the haircut, a bob with triangle bangs that were cut way too high, and you couldn’t stop the small and short laugh as it escaped your throat when you saw it. Instantly your friend was there to stop you from letting out more and to introduce himself, your host’s eyes only on you despite the rudeness even as his hand was taken in an eager handshake.

‘Hey! Sorry about that, my name is-’

‘Please, with all due respect, it is your captivating friend here which I am interested in,’ he interrupted as he stole his hand back and presented it to you instead, and you noticed the black nail polish to top it all off when you looked down. ‘You’re the winner of my little search for a lover of all things macabre and fiendish, are you not?’

‘Uh, yeah, that’s me,’ you lied, your friend frozen in shock at getting to shake his hand even for that brief moment.

‘Wonderful, I could sense it when I looked at you, your blood smelled positively rich with fright even from across my theater, a creature after my own heart,’ he swooned like he was in love, and one quick glance to your friend told you it was all part of the bit, he thought himself a Romeo of monsters.

‘Oh, I don’t know if it’s fright, but-’ You cut yourself off when he then took your hand, tired of waiting for you to shake it, but instead of the greeting your friend had gotten, he simply lifted your hand up while he leaned over, and you felt his fake teeth press into your skin as he kissed you hello. 

‘Divine, your pulse under my lips makes my heart soar, perhaps I may get more acquainted with it during the show, turn you into one of my own,’ he thought aloud as he stared at you through dark makeup and long lashes, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or blush at how hard he was hamming it on before the cameras even started rolling.

‘Yeah, sure, I’m the winner, aren’t I? Pretty good prize to become a vampire at the end,’ you joked, but he seemed to take it seriously as his eyes widened briefly in excitement.

‘What a handsome addition to my clan,’ he whispered before kissing you again, and this time you felt less sure about how much he was actually hamming it or if he was a better actor than you originally thought. Your moment was quickly interrupted when a new person arrived to hand him his script for the night, the two talking quietly to themselves as you were guided presumably just out of sight by the shorter woman again. She gave you the quick rundown while you were gently touched up for the cameras, how you were indeed going to be called on, do some banter, introduce some things, and then you were free to go claim your tickets. 

Seemed easy enough, and his eccentricness seemed just as easy to match as long as you forgot the fact that 20+ people were watching you in this room alone, so you practiced your breathing and waited as the lights dimmed and a spotlight fell over the coffin in the corner. You hadn’t watched him enter it but apparently he had, the fireplace now roaring to life behind the chairs and TV, each of the fake candles now creating shadows on everything. The chatter started to quiet until the whole room was silent, everyone gathered into the mismatch of thrifted couches and chairs so it really felt like a theater or even a living room, the only sounds that of the snacks currently being chewed and the fog machine whirring to life.

‘Good evening, Boils and Ghouls, my Fiendish Freaks who dare dredge these long, cold nights with the Creatures of the Dark for any glimmer of light,’ his voice came from the speakers placed around the room, but there was no applause, that wasn't the atmosphere of this place. The coffin creaked open with a perfectly timed soundboard hit, the creak overly loud as he reached out delicately and pushed the lid until he was revealed, and the spotlight landed perfectly on him as he looked out onto the crowd before focusing on the camera. ‘Once again, it is I, your horrid host of the evening, Dr. Fearless, and I thank you all for joining me. Tonight, we have a horrible lineup of classic horror monsters to terrify you with, to finish off our Marathon of Madness leading into the most wonderful month of the year, October.

‘We also have not one, but two short films made by aspiring fearmakers, full of monsters the likes of which this castle has yet to house, let us hope none of them decide to crawl through your screen and find a home there.’ He left the coffin completely as he spoke, taking careful steps towards the leftmost chair, and as soon as he sat down the TV blinked to life, static filling the room as the spotlight faded into something gloomier so the room wasn't in complete darkness apart from the candles. ‘But first, let us welcome our Ghoulish Guest for tonight, the answer to my howls in the dark, the Passenger of the Demeter!’

That was your cue, and the soundboard lit up again with a very classic organ tune as bats chirped in the background, a roar of thunder sounding as you sat across from him. You went to shake his hand properly this time, but again he refused, another kiss warming your hand before he quickly turned your arm to expose your wrist; your eyes widened as he leaned in for a bite, and you almost let him surprisingly enough before you felt the tips of his fangs press into your skin. You jerked away, and he feigned offense before catching himself, an apology tossed your way with a great flourish.

‘Forgive me, I thought you might be offering me a drink to start off the evening, these films often leave me quite parched,’ he projected, and when you opened your mouth to say it was okay you found a zombie standing beside you dressed as a butler; he held out a golden tray, of course silver would be off the menu, and on it was what could only be described as a grand - at least from afar - goblet next to a large wine glass. ‘Thank you, my humble helper, this will greatly help until I may have a taste- er, a toast, with our guest,’ he told the man, who loudly groaned and walked off as soon as the drinks were taken.

You could smell that it was simply fruit punch, but the colour was darker, probably deepend with food colouring, they really were the real deal. He held up his goblet while everyone stared, and you ignored them all as you tapped the rim of your glass against his own before taking a small sip. He seemed pleased, and in one swift movement he set down his goblet, crossed his legs, and adjusted his cape with another grand flourish.

‘Now that our thirsts have been quenched, let us partake in this delectable first short film to start off the night, a fearful story about what happens when love takes a desperate turn,’ he told the cameras dramatically, and the TV flickered to life to show everyone the short in question. ‘You're doing wonderful, my Myotis,’ he whispered to you as the short’s audio was blasted through the room, a secondary screen dropping down to reveal a projector hiding above the chandelier so everyone else could watch.

‘Your what?’ you whispered back in confusion, but he either didn't hear you or ignored the question.

‘By the way, since I was so very entranced by your eyes when we met, I forgot to ask what you would like to be called during our gathering, do you have any special name prepared?’

‘Uh, no, not really,’ you chuckled awkwardly, something like that hadn't even been close to being on your mind.

‘I shall name you like the day you were born, then, something chilling but also fitting of your beauty, your charm,’ he offered, still hamming it up even though only you could hear, and you wondered for a moment if maybe this was just… how he always was, this wasn't an act for the cameras.

‘Okay, shock and awe me,’ you agreed as you took another sip of ‘blood’, and his eyes shone in the firelight as he quickly started to think up something befitting of you; he was silly, and so over the top you knew you could never match this energy, but he was also strangely endearing in a way, a childlike wonder and love for all of this setting him apart from everyone else watching so intently before you, and you could see why people came to the streams, not just watched them at home.

The short ended and you actually didn't notice at first until the credits were over and the screen rose again, the film ended on the TV as well as it switched back to the atmospheric static. ‘Wasn't that frightening, my Fiends? Trading the senses just to keep love, choosing the heart of another over being able to ever see them again, have you ever seen anything more romantic?’ Of course no one answered, and in the audience you saw your friend eating all of this up along with the complimentary snacks that came with being the ‘winner's guest’. ‘Ah, but we are not here for romance, we're here for the darkness within us all to be shared, exposed, torn open and put on display like an embalmed, still-beating heart,’ he continued as he covered the lower half of his face with his cape dramatically. ‘Of course, having met our guest tonight, I might finally understand what that kind of devotion might drive someone to, wouldn't you agree?’

The sound of a beating heart pulsed through the speakers, and he stared at you until you met his eye and he raised his eyebrows suggestively, his mouth still hidden. You tried not to laugh, a bit of a chuckle still escaping, and he still took it and held his hands over his heart as he leaned back in his chair.

‘Like music to my ears, but again, we are not here for love, we are here for fear, terror, maybe even a bit of pain for those so inclined-’ Another eyebrow raise, apparently he was the one inclined. ‘-so allow my devilish date to introduce our next short after a quick message from our benefactors.’ You assumed that was his term for the channel's sponsors, and sure enough someone else came back out to talk about some product they were being pushed to promote off to your right, the camera turning to their section of stage while they talked. This allowed you both another moment to talk, and he handed you a card with the next short’s title as well as some information about it as soon as you were out of sight. ‘Memorize this, the way you've already memorized my very soul, my enticing incubus,’ he told you, and this time you couldn't hide your laugh.

‘Okay,’ was all you had to say to that one as you stifled your surprised snickers, the card small and to the point with its words as such.

‘I must say, with the way you wrote that letter to me, I expected more conversation with you, perhaps you are too overwhelmed by my presence to speak? I apologize if so, I never intended to strike you speechless when it is you who steals the words from my very throat until I cannot breathe,’ he continued as he leaned in, his goblet in hand and faintly staining his pale lips a little more red as he sipped again. You shot your friend a glance, of course your personalities would come off as so different, and you didn't want to get him disqualified at the last second when he was so looking forward to his upcoming date.

‘Guess I'm a bit camera shy,’ you didn't exactly lie, and he let out a long, ‘Ahhhhh~’ in understanding as he turned to watch the device film his co-worker.

‘I, too, used to fear the camera, I worried that it wouldn't be able to record me so my dreams of being a horror host would be dashed, but do not fret, my charming cadaver, I can attest that it is more afraid of you than you are of it, you are doing just fine.’ Despite the flowery - weedy? - language you had to admit that he sounded genuine in his advice, and you nodded to yourself as the sponsor finished up and the two of you prepared to be focused on again.

‘Thanks, I think I'm ready now,’ you whispered to him just before the audience was staring at you again, and you took a bigger sip to steel your nerves and held the card in your hand just out of view. 

‘Wasn't that hypnotizing, I feel the need to go to their digital address and present them with the phrase my associate has just shared so generously with you all.’ He wasted no time in getting back to it, he couldn’t afford to when they still needed to get to the movie before it got too late. ‘Now, it is time for our surprise second tale of sorrow, if you'll allow my guest to tell you all about it, the horrifying, the enchanting, the anticipated… Lord Dullahan~’ 

Your eyebrows raised, naming you after the Headless Horseman despite having a head was a bold move, and you stole a glance at your friend and channeled all of his energy as you sucked in a deep breath and felt the atmosphere settle into your bones. ‘Good evening, as a great enjoyer of the strange and unusual, I find myself quite at home here, my dear Fearless,’ you said as grandly as you could, making sure to project your voice loud so it could be picked up by not only the boom mic high above but also the audience, and your friend gave you two thumbs up before delving back into his popcorn with a big smile. 

Fearless, on the other hand, looked positively surprised by you, and you swore you might've seen actual hearts - medically accurate ones at that - in his eyes as he stood up and fell to one knee in front of the TV with a large swish of his cape behind him, his hand finding yours before you could blink.

‘The pleasure is all mine to host you, my dear Dullahan,’ he said like you were the only two in the room, briefly losing himself in the bit it seemed, and the person manning the soundboard thought now would be a perfect time to make use of that beating heart cue again. You heard your friend snicker so you doubled down and kissed his hand before pulling yours away to take another sip, going for a more mysterious air after your long silence in front of everyone else. You couldn't be sure under the lights and his makeup but it almost looked like his cheeks flushed a bit at the gesture, and you grinned at the taste of his own medicine before going back to your little ‘script’.

‘While the storm rages outside, why don't you join us by this warm fire while we watch a tale about what happens when you try to cheat death, and how you might just get exactly the answers you've been looking for along the way.’ You had no cape, but you still hid your face the same way he had, and when you glanced down and saw him still kneeling there you swore that he might actually think you were his soulmate with how genuinely in love he looked, he was a damn good actor under all the camp. ‘Doctor, I believe our guests might not be able to partake along with us as long as you’re down there, would you prefer to watch from your seat, or mine?’

This one threw him through a loop greater than he’d done to you, and when he looked unable to answer, his hands hovering over your own, your knee, his eyes never leaving your own, you then channeled every vampire movie you’d ever seen; you pet him under the chin, dragging your finger across his jaw to his chin in order to make him stand, and he did so easily he might actually be hypnotized, you had to give it to him for selling all this so seamlessly. Just when he looked ready to sit, you stood as well and took his seat, giving him yours to finish the bit, and the TV sparked back to life as he sat down and watched you instead of the screen. Behind you, the short played again just over your heads, and you nearly drank from his goblet before realizing that yours was still on the opposite table.

‘An indirect kiss from you would be like a dream, a nightmare on a stormy night, such bliss you could give me,’ he whispered as he went to drink from your own, and you shook your head and exchanged it back without distracting the audience too much from the film.

‘Sorry, maybe next time,’ you joked, your throat surprisingly dry even after such little speaking. ‘You’re good at improv, sorry for nearly derailing things, by the way.’

He shook his head, his disappointment over the kiss looking a little too real as he set his goblet back down on the other table. ‘Do not trouble yourself over such a trivial thing, none have ever rendered me as silent as the grave as you have, I fear it is my head that may roll by the end of the night,’ he waxed poetically at you, still hamming it up before a new disappointment showed on his face. ‘Ah, but alas, I may never get that privilege, you’re to leave me once the film begins, are you not?’

You paused, you’d almost forgotten about that part, in fact your friend was already starting to gather up his many wrappers and stuff them into the now empty popcorn bag, the flashing lights shining on him in his seat. You frowned, this was too much fun, more than you expected it to be, and you motioned for him to lean in; he eagerly did, his eyes wide and looking pitch black instead of brown in the darkness no matter how close he came to you. ‘Would I be able to stay for the film? I mean, I can move to the audience somewhere, or to the floor if there’s no room, I’ve just… never done anything like this before, I don’t want to leave, not right away, at least?’

He almost broke character as he actually looked away from you and to the people in the glass-partitioned studio where his live editor and director sat, and he had a wordless conversation with them in front of you while the audience focused on the scifi hell going on behind you. When he looked back he was himself again, or Fearless, more rather, and he reached across the TV’s expanse in search of your hand. You humoured him as thanks, and he nodded his head, already coming up with his next lines no doubt as the film above finished up.

‘How terrifying, again we’ve seen what lengths we will go to for love, and what harm we will bring to those in the way of those lengths,’ he said as soon as the screen was raised again, and you nodded at the camera and crossed your legs, his chair definitely more comfy than your own had been despite being the same.

‘Would you ever go to such lengths for love, Doctor?’ you asked in order to keep your presence worth it, and again he tripped over his own tongue as he gazed over to you.

‘I shall tonight, if anyone dares separate us before midnight,’ he threatened playfully with a theatrical wave of his hands, a subtle warning to those behind the glass after his conversation with them. ‘Speaking of, the clock is about to strike, soon it will be October, and I cannot think of better company to start off the season of witches and werewolves and welcome my fellow vampires back into the harvest moonlight.’ He stood and gave his audience a bow, a chorus of bats nearly making you jump as he dipped down low. ‘The time is upon us now, the countdown begins, and so I shall have to bid my guest adieu so we may partake in our grand finale of the evening; Lord Dullahan, if you’d please?’

He extended his hand back to you, and you tried to hide your disappointment as you took it, only for him to get you one last time; he drew you close and lowered his face into your neck, not actually biting you but still startling you enough to make you cling to him in a not so unpleasant fear. Your eyes widened as you sucked in a shaky breath, your fingers digging in what had to be uncomfortably into his bicep and shoulder, and you heard him chuckle before you realized what was going on and you fell limp in his arms.

‘A creature so lovely cannot be permitted to leave this castle alive! Forgive me, my innocent Dullahan, I could not resist the sweet call of your blood, your heartbeat, the way I had to feel it pulse under my piercing fangs… I swear I shall care for you here, this castle will forever be your home, and you will forever be mine!’ You pretended to look drowsily up at him, your grip returning to his arms since you’d gone a bit too limp and there was now a very real chance of him dropping you on the floor in front of everyone. You rubbed at your neck and winced, and when you brought your hand up you showed the red from your obscured glass now staining your fingers to finish selling it.

‘Whatever you desire, Master,’ you slurred, knowing that that kind of title usually went along with these kinds of situations, and you watched in stunned silence as the soundboard accidentally sent out what could only be described as a cartoonish boing sound before the correct sound of thunder crashed instead. Fearless hid his face as he bit his lip, his shoulders tensing as the soundboard operator was wildly chastised behind the glass, and you hid your face in his shoulder until your own laughing stopped. 

‘Very good, I knew I chose well,’ he continued after a brief moment of almost losing it, and you blew out a quick breath and let him help you stand, the loud song of a clock chiming letting you know that it was now midnight. ‘The clock tower! Hear its chimes, and know that midnight is upon us!’ he called out to everyone, and you weren’t surprised as everyone actually joined in on the countdown. As they slowly called out the numbers, Fearless grabbed your drink and handed it back to you, your arms hooked now that you guessed you were his, and when it struck midnight you both drank until your glasses were empty.

You frowned at the taste, that wasn't your fruit punch, and you noticed in the confusion that he’d actually handed you his own, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as you tasted actual wine, guess the colour wasn't just for show in his case.

‘An indirect kiss was indeed such a dream, what bliss,’ he repeated, and you felt your face grow just as red as the liquid in his goblet at how low his voice had become. ‘And now, our grand finale of the evening to start off our marathon to Halloween starting tomorrow night, featuring a marathon of horror as voted by you all out there. So, grab some wine, or blood, of your own, maybe find something tasty to bite into while you watch, as I present to you: The Creature Walks Among Us~’

The screen lowered for the final time, the audience getting up to replenish their snacks for the movie as the opening credits rolled, and your friend quickly threw out his trash and jogged over to you. ‘Great work, I knew you’d be a natural up there, let’s grab those tickets and head out, I’ve already seen this one a million times,’ he said excitedly as the producer came out with an envelope, Fearless finally leaving your side to go get it to present to you.

‘Yeah, actually I think I’m gunna stay,’ you confessed, and he looked between you and your host before something sly showed on his face.

‘For you, my dear Du- forgive me, I suppose you don’t need that title away from our other guests,’ Fearless said almost nervously as he approached with ‘your’ gift, and your friend snatched it from you the second it was placed into your hands.

‘Thanks so much, this was fantastic, I had a real blast tonight, I hope you two enjoy the movie, I know I sure will,’ he told you cheekily before rushing out, probably in the worry that someone might take them back from him, and you waved at his back a moment before turning back to Fearless.

‘Shall I grab a seat now that his is free? I’ve never seen this one before,’ you asked, and he glanced over to it before wrapping his arm - and cape - around your shoulders; he waved aside the solo guy taking up the couch and had him move to your friend’s vacant chair, and the short woman from before brought you a tray filled with complimentary snacks as you both sat down next to each other. She asked for your favourite drink, his already poured into a decorative glass shaped like a skeleton, clearly he also preferred to watch the movie from over here, and he let you sit against him as your own drink was brought over in a glass shaped like a bat curled around a branch. ‘Fancy, you do this with all your prize winners?’

‘No, just you,’ he whispered, and for a moment you actually looked around to see who’d spoken until it hit you that it was him, without the heavy accent. ‘Our mics are off, we can talk a little more normally while this is playing, unless you prefer Fearless?’ he asked, his voice changing back at the end, and you just blinked at him before grabbing some popcorn.

‘And who might you be, if not my dear Dr. Fearless?’ you teased, and this time you were sure he blushed as he let out a small yet nervous laugh.

‘Dwight, actually, and you are?’ You went to say your own name before you stopped, tried to say your friend’s instead, and he shook his head and held up a hand to get you to stop. ‘I figured it out a while ago, but I knew for sure when you said you’d never seen it after singing its praises in the letter,’ he chuckled, and you cringed and sat up a little straighter.

‘I’m sorry, he was really excited for the tickets he’s just- terrible with being put on the spot, I swear he actually is a fan,’ you explained quickly, Dwight looking you over as his face almost changed into someone different; it was then you noticed he’d taken out his fangs so he could enjoy the snacks, and the cute goofiness suddenly transformed into rather handsomeness even with the wig.

‘And you’re not, judging on how you acted with me tonight,’ he confirmed, and you could only nod. ‘But you are now, I take it, after the show you gave everyone?’

‘I might be swayed, you did turn me, after all,’ you joked, Dwight’s eyes drifting to your neck like he might actually try again. ‘The constant love confessions were a surprise though, he didn’t warn me about those when he got me to come on here.’

‘Not a surprise to me, seeing as they were all genuine,’ he said simply before taking a drink, the opening credits finally over as everyone sat back down again to enjoy the film.

‘They were-?’

‘Even if I could tell you weren’t the soulmate I thought you might be in his letter, I must say that I did wanna get to know you, all the same,’ he admitted before hiding himself in a big bite of chocolate, and you thought over everything he’d said the past almost hour as your heart raced a little faster. It was silly, and over the top, and you still had no idea what a Myotis was, but you couldn’t deny that this creature beside you was not only silly but also fascinating, and you sat a little closer to him as you reached across his lap to grab his drink.

‘What was it you said? “An indirect kiss would be bliss”?’ you wondered before taking a sip, his real front teeth biting into his bottom lip as he watched. You gave him your name along with his drink, and you finally saw how your strange luck had struck once again as he offered you a bite of chocolate to go along with your handful of popcorn, the movie barely holding your attention as the two of you whispered to each other all throughout it.

[ssha-sssh]

"Creation" Chapter 1. A scream that almost sounded

A/N: It was difficult in a good way. No more, no less

Word count: 4,2K

Warnings: Brief descriptions of murder and death, mentions of blood and injuries, swear words, child kidnapping, hints of rape and sexual harrasment (oh Jesus...)

🎧 Senn — Lone Wanderer

The wind blows the twittering of birds across the endless plain. Its gusts are benevolent, soft - but instead of bird trills, you, having woken up, hear heart-rending cries.

The ones you heard every day for almost a twelve years.

The ones in which you yourself risked losing your voice very soon.

Still not daring to open your eyes, you involuntarily wrap your arms around Noa again - after all, you have nothing else to grab onto except him. You exhale a scream that almost sounded.

If you weren't sitting in the saddle now, you would curl up into a small, unnoticeable ball.

Like that morning.

***

It was not yet dawn when they burst into your home on a hill that was probably now trampled. A dozen men in dirty uniforms, weapons at the ready. They killed your silent mother, who loved you unconditionally - and her every gesture became a voice in your ears. They killed your fearless father, who protected you with strength and wisdom - and his every word became a silent anger flowing through your veins.

But then you were too young to see your parents die. You were too young to fight.

Running to the attic, closing your eyes and curling up in a ball in the closet, in a pile of clothes - all you could do while strangers mockingly talked to the bodies of your parents.

Just a few minutes ago they were alive... And now they were getting kicked by dirty soles.

A single sob gave them away where you were hiding. The wooden closet door shattered into splinters. You shuddered as they told you in a disgusting chorus that you had a cute face. One of them twisted your arms and you burst into tears. He covered your mouth with his cruel palm and blindfolded you, ordering you to be obedient.

Even then you wanted to bite off the rough fingers that touched you.

Tied up tightly, you shuddered as one of them, then another, scooped you up and put you down in God knows where. You knew from the sound of the wheels on the gravel and embankment that it was a cart. It was impossible to tell where they were taking you. You had lost the way to the house where the memory of all the good things that had happened to you. And that made tears roll down your cheeks again. But you cried silently, so that they wouldn't hear.

In the dungeon, the blindfold was removed from your eyes - but you saw nothing more. Only blood and the glassy eyes of your parents.

There you were given to people for training.

But these people, contrary to the laws, became attached to you. And were as kind to you as possible. Your foster mother taught you to adapt to the present and the future, whatever it might be. Your foster father taught you to use your inquisitive mind and defend yourself from encroachment.

After a few months, you were given work - you sewed and patched clothes in a cramped room.

And everything you were taught came in handy.

The times of day and seasons here, many meters underground, were indistinguishable. And only by the holidays marked on the distorted calendars nailed to the walls, you could count how old you were.

The numbers were becoming increasingly frightening. Not only you. There were many such stolen girls here.

Here, working as assistants, you had no time for chirping girlish conversations. You had no time for friendship. If you managed to talk to girls like you, it was only about the danger lurking around every corner. Older and younger than you - they were all afraid of the blood that appeared on their clothes every month.

It meant only one thing - sufficient "ripeness". That's what they called it. Then they took the girls downstairs, locked them there, tied them up and raped them. Sometimes they involved their sons in this. Sometimes the girls they abused were their daughters who had been born and grown up here. When you found out about this by accident, you were bitterly glad that you had no relatives in this decaying pit.

They glorified the human race, they wanted to revive God's plan. They shouted about it through megaphones. The screams coming from below were unbearable... You don't know a single prayer, but you know - it was blasphemy.

It was Hell, depriving you of reason and dreams.

The first time you saw the red stain spreading on your skirt, you wanted to cry. But you couldn't cry. Just as you couldn't go up to the blessed world. Just as you couldn't refuse food that looked like scabs. Just as you couldn't know too much. Just as you couldn't find a way out of the iron leper box.

Having propped up the door of the sewing closet with a wooden box, you burst into tears from helplessness in the face of your foreseeable future. You prayed that your tears would remain among the needle cases and junk. But, damn, one of them heard and swung the door open.

He didn't do anything then. He just remarked on how pretty you were when you cried. You wanted to bite off his omnipresent ears.

Months and years now dragged on like centuries. They had long ago noticed you.

They circled around you like a pack. Only drool did not drip from their beards. It was scary to work and return to the assigned room, through the hooting and darkness.

When one of them sniffed you lustfully, lifted the hem of your dress and grabbed your thigh like a meaty game - you pierced his prickly, bristly cheek with a needle. Blows rained down on you.

From now on, when you heard the approaching shuffling of boots, you hid anywhere.

Under the bed, among the hanging, matted sheets. Or in the kitchen, among the pots filled with stinking brew. Or among the things that their previous owners would no longer use... Sometimes it helped against the peals of men anger. Sometimes - no.

Then only running away was your salvation.

The dungeon was a labyrinth, and as you ran away, you remembered, studied each corridor. The flickering dim light. The turns leading to nowhere. The room, from top to bottom filled with sharp objects - suspiciously clean among everything that was happening in every corner.

They found you from everywhere. But they wouldn't look for you there. Knowing their intentions, your foster mother told you about this room. She worked there with several other women - those who God did not give their own children. Those who had a lot of time for this frightening place that smelled of caustic alcohol and poisonous solutions. Children conceived on the lower floor were born there. Wounds, burns, suppurations were treated there. And too severe beatings. Entering there without orders was strictly prohibited. You understood what would happen to her if you violated this prohibition. You avoided this room.

Until the ill-fated day that crossed out everything. That day they chose you. They told your foster parents about it. And killed them, having eloquently thanked them before that for their contribution to the development of the commune.

They, these inhuman people, took away your childhood. Growing up. Learning. Twilight, glare. Joy. They took away the last thing from you.

You had nothing to lose. Except for your damn virginity, which they decided to feast on without haste. Dumb boors. You won't give it to them.

The accumulated anger that filled you to the brim finally spilled out.

Reaching the glass room was a miracle. Opening a similar glass cabinet and taking out scissors from there - not at all like the ones you used to cut the tough fibrous fabric - was a gift. Stabbing one of them to death was too insignificant. Yes, it was he who sniffed you, letting out dirty jokes. But it was not he who squeezed your body until you had bruises, who pulled the knot of the bandage over your eyes. It was not he who killed everyone you loved.

Confused tracks in the crooked corridors, you did not even notice how a sharpened kitchen knife pierced your shoulder. You did not notice how you bit into someone else's slimy skin with a squeal. You did not notice how you spat out someone else's disgusting meat and rushed into battle with a vengeance.

Desire to get to the surface was stronger than you yourself then...

***

Inside, from the throat to the stomach, it’s as if small bones are scattered, scraps of food scraping the insides - it’s so painful... You simply fell asleep from the shallow but numerous wounds eating you alive - but it’s as if you’ve returned back to the dungeon. Into the darkness.

From the tormenting memories, you almost fall off the slowly walking horse. Your stomach is twisted with a frightened spasm, horror crawls up your spine. Noa palm catches your slipped fingers at the very moment when you remember that now you will not return to the dungeon.

You convince yourself that this will never happen again, and now the past can find a loophole to you only in restless dreams - and you don’t trust your own convictions.

The horses walk slower. So, the clan, scraps of conversations about which you heard, is already nearby. Many dragonflies with bright wings flutter near the lake spilling in the shadow.  Before, you had only seen them in a colourless, time-worn children's book - you had looked at the pictures so often that the pages had turned to dust under your curious touch. Now these strange insects are so close, and you are enchanted by their shimmering dance.

The apes are talking about you again. Worried about you. They don't say a single bad word about you. You try to read between the lines - but there is no hidden meaning in their actions. And you don't know what to think.

"What will the elders say? If they... refuse?" listening to Anaya's words, you understand that this is indeed an important question.

"But who else can... help this echo? And if so... What will we do?" Soona answers him, looking at you with compassion.

"Even if they refuse her to live... among us... she needs to be cured. She needs food. Clothes. Weapon" Noa's voice is quiet, but determined. You do not understand his actions at all. "To avoid being caught by them. To survive here"

An echo glides across the crystal water of the lake.

You, now an echo too, have many questions in your head. And they torture.

There must be more people nearby. Lost and wandering in the pouring rain, you came across huts and asked for help. You knocked on boarded-up windows, peered into the huts inside. You screamed at the top of your voice, you begged. No one helped. But these people are not your family. You are a stranger on this earth, so why would these people should let you in?..

Are all people like this?.. And why then did you so tirelessly cherish the hope of someday meeting people better than those who keep prisoners locked up by force and public humiliation?

What would have happened to your body and soul if you hadn't managed to escape? If they had caught you, knocked out your teeth, dragged you downstairs and tied you up? Or if death at their hands, soaked in the blood of so many innocents, had overtaken you in the ravine?.. They wouldn't have been averse to having fun with you anyway. You know that about them, too. You don't need the answers to these questions anymore.

After all, neither your lost tracks, nor the drops of yesterday's rain, nor the blood that flowed down the stones mean anything anymore. The earth has absorbed everything.

These two of them who took both your families set out to chase you. The realization that Noa killed them gives birth to gratitude in your soul. Now the impossibility of revenge will not gnaw you from the inside.

But what has now been decided by the forces of nature,

who have left you alive?

What will happen where you are destined to end up? Surely, grins and reproaches? Primal hatred directed at you? Mistrust, contempt? What use could you possibly be to the apes? Do they treat people as human stories say? .. What if this salvation is just a deception, akin to human lies? Besides, now you, almost mute, dirty and frightened, resemble an animal much more than they do. So why shouldn't they eat you, their easy-to-catch prey? Or stuff you? ..

Or why shouldn't they have fun with you?.. Carnivorously. Carnally.

Just as the guards of the dungeon from which you escaped straight into the monkey's paws would have been amused.

And now, no matter how hard you clench your hands into fists, you will not be able to break free.

You are shaking as if the wind has become winter.

Noa's calloused fingers place your twitching hand almost at his heart, just a little higher and to the right. Broad shoulders rise from your coldered breath.

All this, his words and movements, seems like... a desire to protect you? But you are a human. People and apes have been feuding for so long that no one can answer how the feud began. But it is ineradicable. So why does he need you not to get hurt or trampled?

Be that as it may, you do not trust anyone or anything.

The fur on Noa's back - where you press your scratched cheek again - is wet. Probably because your temperature has risen. You don't know why he helped you. You are afraid of him no less than the men in the hopeless settlement. You look at him with gratitude, with a doubt tearing your throat... You want to believe him. Because there is no one else to trust in the world that you are getting to know anew. But you will not ask him questions that soak you with fear and foreboding. Just as you will not be able to tell him words of gratitude.

You are hot. And you are overcome by an unbearable thirst again.

The lake, reflecting the sun's rays, is left behind, replaced by a meadow, deciduous trees and fruit-bearing bushes. The berries that you tasted only in your too-short-lived childhood smell sweet. Has their taste changed as much as you have changed over the past years?

Bees scurry around, and their buzzing calms your restless thoughts.

Somewhere in the distance, where Noa directs a long glance, the wings of iron birds are visible.

They are planes, it seems. Old, rusty, forgotten. You have seen them only once. Blueprints on worn, yellowed paper. Then they were like fiction — alien, huge structures that could touch the clouds. And now these piles of metal, embraced by ivy, are like an extension of the forest. Noa looks at them as if they might one day fly again.

How long have they been chained to these ruins? Have they flown over other distant lands?

What would it be like to soar into the sky?..

You are shaking. Everything you see - trees, grass, and the sun hanging somewhere impossibly high - floats and spins. Your mouth feels like it is full of hot sand.

The glitter of dew. You think it looks like gemstones.

You're swaying from side to side, and you're clutching the fur on Noa's shoulder with cottony fingers. It's not helping at all.

Noa huffs as he realizes you might fall again. He squeezes your fingers tighter, now on the very spot where you can feel the unwavering thump. Warm blood still seeping from your hand is spreading across his chest.

If you could think of anything other than the dew scattered beneath your feet, you'd try to figure out — was it any different from a human's, beating in ape's heart?..

Consciousness is slowly returning to you. The unknown world, stretching for many miles, stops spinning.

Through the sweat running down your forehead and the tangled hair stuck to your face, you peer at each thread of the huge canvas above the horizon. With delight, trepidation and awe.

And with unspoken fear. With your last breath, you are still thinking - where to go if the apes rightly decide that you have no place among them? And how to escape if the apes decide to deal with you?.. But nothing betrays the apes's bloodthirstiness that you have heard so much and so often about.

You are just a stone's throw away from buildings you have never seen before.

Gusts of wind blow around you, embracing you. Morning flows into day, the forest flows into a built-up village humming with routine.

The beaten path along which the apes take you leads to surprisingly well-equipped dwellings, towering above the earth heated by midday. And these dwellings are not at all like the walls, floors and bars from which you emerged. There are no cages and tools designed to force submission, and there is no torture chamber.

Families live here. And these families are not molded from circumstances, as if from clay. These families — are blood families. Kinship among those who talk and those who are silent, imperceptible to the eye. It feels different.

Here the industry is seething, here and there the noise is heard. Here is unity and freedom.

Houses on the surface, life on the surface, among the clean air and the many-faced sky seems incredible...

A smile touches the corners of your lips. Your palm reaches out to outline the place in front of your eyes - but then falls back, squeezing the wool on Noa's elbow in the approaching fever.

"Echo needs help getting down... to the ground" Noa assures, freeing his long arm from your weak grip and dismounting.

His hands reach for your waist to help, and you squeal in protest and dodge.

"Is something... wrong?" Soona, who is walking ahead, turns around worriedly.

"I can do it myself" you say hesitantly in response, stroking the horse's mane.  "I don't need his help"

When your body was overwhelmed by the pain that clouded your consciousness, Noa had already done so, helping you to mount. And you, unconscious, held on to him for many hours on the road. Feeling him so close was not scary. It was necessary. Like grasping at a straw. But after a terrible dream, you don't want him to touch you... No, not now.

Stepping onto the ground from the back of a snorting horse seems easy to you. But without the slightest idea of ​​​​how to do it, you fail.

Anaya hides in one of the dwellings when Noa gives him a sign that seems vaguely familiar to you. Soona remains nearby, ready to help you - but she is unlikely to be strong enough to cope with this.

The sign language of the apes differs from the one you are used to only slightly, and with the help of this language you repeat that you will manage without help.

Without support, you risk flying like a tiny leaf from a branch. You grab the reins and the horse's mane in vain attempts to get out of the saddle. The horse kicks. The cape you're sitting on slips - and you, trying so hard, almost fall backwards.

Stuck in the stirrup, you don't even have time to squeak - Noa catches you, when you almost hitting the ground with your shoulder blades. He holds you almost the same way as when you were exhausted in his palms, in the middle of the plain.

"I told you. You need help" A disgruntled growl escapes from his chest.

Only now, as Noa releases you, your bare, punctured feet finally meeting the ground, you can understand what in the stories about the apes were right.

Is it how different they are in their wild nature. And their size.

Even Soona is taller than you by several inches. Not to mention Noa, towering over you like a mountain range. The wind picks up the many voices and the rattling of abandoned work. The apes emerge from their homes and stop working. Their humming and whispering makes you uncomfortable. The wounds immediately remind you of themselves with a dull ache. You look through the crowd at the neatly laid roofs, bathed in rays of sunlight.

Noa lets out a wheeze and hides you behind his broad shoulders. He asks you to walk beside him and be quiet. You follow him without complaint, and because of his furry back you can hardly see anything - except for the feathers in the braided bracelet on his forearm, shimmering in shades of blue.

Step by step, you make out the expressions on the apes's faces. Some of them are confused, some do not hide their irritation. You see a lot, but you do not see malice. Only this calms you down when you stop at a spacious structure and dozens of monkeys look at you with an unspoken question and a respectful bow, directed straight at Noa.

Now you understand that he must be the leader of this clan.

And his action is not presumptuously, but magnanimous.

An approaching hostile sounds.  Noa assumes an obviously protective pose, and you press yourself into the fur on his shoulder again. This time consciously. After all, it seems that you were wrong not to see the malice.

"What is this? Another echo?.." the voice of a stocky male chimpanzee is heard, drawing level with Noa and casting an appraising glance at you. There is something unkind in it. "Did the animals batter her? Or did someone... play with the curiosity?"

"Let her go back... to the pasture"  the female picks up his intonation, letting out a nasty laugh. She looks like a hanger-on, not a companion.

"True" another male grins, clearly younger and trying to assert himself in this way. "There... is her place!"

They hardly guess, reveling in their slander, but for you, everything they spew — pointless. You were never part of the whole. You shattered into pieces, long ago. You became a fragment with broken edges.

That's why there is no place for you anywhere.

A shirt, sticky with rain, blood and weeds, torn at the seams - your only refuge.

"...She swallowed her tongue?" you hear, insulting and goading, somewhere in the distance.

Soona, standing next to you, gasps at the insolence of her fellows. They laugh at your helplessness, continuing to curse. You regret that you cannot lash them with curses now.

Listening to their rumble, Noa straightens his back. You are almost invisible behind him.

"This echo is wounded. By other echoes. They wanted to... play. They lose" After Noa's short and clear words, bewilderment is visible in the apes's eyes. Baring his fangs, he finishes. "And she will not return... to the pasture. She will graze here"

The phrase is sharp. Noa stands his ground, his nostrils flaring menacingly. This, of course, silences the ill-wishers. But you feel the sediment prickling.

What if they'll treat you like a thing here too?..

You can hardly breathe. The lead of a frightening assumption presses on your collarbones. You take a step back from Noa, upset and ready to break from the despair that has washed over you. It takes even more effort not to recoil from Noa when he turns and leans towards you. He had to say this to stop the vile discussion.

His green eyes apologize to you for what he said.

Something in his piercing gaze tells you to trust. It speaks louder than his answer to the clan, who doesn't stops talking and doesn't notice.

Five baby-chimps run up to you, distracted from their game of tag.

The first thing you do — is sit down so that you are the same height as the children who are asking you questions. They reach out to you, and the pain that has been increasing with each passing second becomes unimportant. Soona follows your lead, her actions clearly supportive. The growing rebellious tension disappears, as does the hubbub that has surrounded you from all sides.

Seeing that you are kind to the clan's most valuable treasure, the apes stop arguing and return to their work. Only the adults who are looking after the little ones do not leave.

Even now, laughing, Noa is still ready to rush into battle.

The children are impressed, but they don't understand what is happening - and you are undoubtedly happy of their attack. It seems like a serene meadow in the chaos that is playing with your fate.

"Are you hurt?" a very small boy babbles, tilting his head to the side. You nod.

"What happened to you?" a girl who looks like this little one like two peas in a pod timidly puts her hand on your wounded shoulder.

"This echo fought... With opponents and the forest" Soona tells the curious cubs.

"Did you get a scar in battle?" an older boy looks at you with surprise.

"This battle could have been my last..." you begin your story like an instructive fairytale. "But the journey was worth it"

"So who hurt you?" seeing the sparkle of tears in your eyes, the liveliest boy asks, putting his hands on his hips importantly. "Do you want me to protect you?"

"You already have a protector, right?" a smart, dark-eyed girl looks at you and Noa with mischief.

Not expecting this, Noa freezes. He looks at you, captured by the curious crowd. He still shields you with his back and his presence. He smiles indulgently - which you can't help but notice. He is confused. But you are not taken surprise by spontaneity, but are warmed.

"Yes, and he is very brave" you agree with the girl, expressing gratitude to Noa at least in this way.

"So who did the Master of Birds save you from?" everyone is curious in one ringing voice.

When Noa sits down next to you, his weight almost touching yours for the umpteenth time in the day that has just begun, you don't move away.

"From evil, cunning... predators" playing along with the fictional plot, Noa ruffles the children's heads.

Staying with you and naive chatter, Noa still helps you tell the fascinating truth. Having plopped down nearby and forcing Soona to snort good-naturedly, Anaya returns to the company.

While you are enthusiastically answering the children's questions, you do not immediately notice female chimpanzee in venerable years approaching you. Only when Noa raises her head, still sitting on the ground, do you see that everyone is moving aside. Her robe, like the feathers indicating Noa's dominant status, is a deep blue.

"Time goes by... And you, my son, remain the same" hearing both reproach and pride in her words, you cannot help but look down.

Who else but parents could say that?..

Noa rises with a gesture that you will not confuse with anything - this is how you asked your blood mother for advice.

The children say polite greetings, holding on to you like tenacious little crabs. You don't know what to say - and cannot make a single sound.

"Nobility is sometimes worse than vices" sadness sounds in the voice of another, an elderly female chimpanzee with a wooden cane. "With her, to our homes comes... troubles. Again."

"...Is she hiding something?.." the young female asks impatiently, taking her two cubs away from you. The male calms her down in a way that husbands never calmed wives in a settlement unfamiliar to you.

The unknown frightens them as much as it frightens you. It hovers in the dying wind and the sparks from the fire crackling in the distance.

Squinting from the sun and your exhausted appearance, Noa's mother sighs.

"This soul is innocent" she looks at, it seems, every scar and every aspiration. "Come here, child... Your path has been... thorny. You need to rest"

"Thanks..." you whisper from the bottom of your heart, when her palm touches your burning forehead.

Taking Noa's outstretched hand, you rise. Your hideously cut thigh, under the equally cut leg of your trousers, pierces with pain. You whining through cracked lips. The children don't want to let you go, but you promise that very soon you will tell them an even more fascinating story.

The smell of smoking fish tickles your nose. Everything tilts and fades...

***

You dream of water dripping from holes in the basement pipes - rusty, almost red. Streams flow down the cobblestones from grinning skulls.

Their eye sockets are empty. Worms have settled in their decaying bodies, laying larvae. Their hands reach out to you. They strangle you, they tear your dress. Their toothless mouths shower you with stench and obscenities...

***

Waking up in the hut, you scream. Indistinguishable from the animal cries that echo in the twilight. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears. Dreams have been cruel to you for as long as you can remember. The dreams of future nights, you are sure, will be merciless.

And there is no way to escape this.

The bed you slept in resembles a perch. Someone is scurrying around at the head of the bed.

The woven nest creaks as you jump up, drawing your knees up to your cheeks. You are not wearing a shirt - only a T-shirt, trousers, and a viscous ointment applied to your exhausted body. And animal skins, serving as a blanket.

Turning around at the noise, you see Noa with two bowls in his palms. He places them closer to you, and you pull the blanket up to your neck. The contents of the bowls smell pleasant. In one of them the same ointment that burns and heals your injuries. In the other a lake fish, large and ruddy. Your stomach rumbles. You forgot about hunger - and now hunger is devouring you.

When Noa's large palm reaches for the blanket, you crawl away to the edge of the nest in panic.

"When they were treating your wounds, I saw you without... this" Noa admits, taking out your shirt among other things. "It will hurt, inside... Take that"

Pointing to the thin sky-blue robe, Noa explains with a gesture that it will be safer this way. Then he insistently brings the bowl with the fish to your closed lips.

You coudn't refuse food. You learned this rule over the years of life on a leash - a hearty meal was a reward for following commands and orders, and starvation was a punishment for disobedience.

You was only punished. So you use what you learned from your foster mother.

The fish in the bowl dissolves into a scent in a matter of moments. And only now do you respond with gestures that it would be safer if Noa left your assigned dwelling the same way he came. You don't believe in the security provided. You admit that you're scared. And you ask if Noa has taken you in as a curiosity pet?..

If you said it out loud, you would cover your mouth with both hands in shame.

Noa slouches and turns to go outside. His steps are sharp. The wheezing in his heaving chest is low and abrupt. You look at his back, expecting anger and insults. He stops, looking at you and the untouched robe.

"To heal, an echo needs sleep... A lot" is all Noa says before leaving the hut.

You scold yourself. You admire the fabric of the robe flowing between your fingertips in the dim light.

The sparkling hanging lights lull you to sleep. All you want to do — lay down, as like fetuses laying in wombs, and forget about all the nightmares you've experienced in reality or in broken dreams. But you, without closing your eyes, stare at the glow.

[moodr1ng]

i always say im able-bodied bc i feel like it best describes my General Lived Experience but i do have that like. thing in my legs where if i walk briskly for some distance (like 500 meters) i get this crushing pain in my whole lower legs which gets worse and worse if i keep walking until i eventually have to sit down for a few minutes and wait for it to go away. which im still trying to get diagnosed bc so far artery scans and muscle ultrasounds render nothing. and ngl it is like, an issue often enough and is a pretty bothersome thing when it happens (like not only bc its extremely painful but also having to find some place to sit down in the middle of the street and having to stay there a while isnt awesome) so im not entirely sure "able-bodied" fully describes me but i also am not sure its a disability bc we dont know wtf it is. so i guess im kind of in a weird inbetween where i err on the side of just assuming its not a disability and its just like, an annoying body thing..

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various recent pictures of things

[gibbearish]

(random words bolded for ease of reading)

the best protip i could ever give to fellow adhders (but also applies to everyone) is to always keep an eye out in conversation for people who start to say something then get talked over, and once the current conversation thread ends, swing back around to them and go "what were you about to say?"

benefits:

- that person knows they were heard and feels validated and supported

- the person who interrupted them realizes they did so in a way that doesn't publically call them out, allowing them to process it on their own without shame clogging the pipes

- you yourself are less likely to interrupt others, and the times you do are more likely to be easily forgiven bc the other person knows it wasnt because you thought what you had to say was more important, but just because Mouth Move Faster Than Brain Sometimes

- there's automatically a new topic of conversation waiting in reserve

- professional environments see this as "attention to detail" and "mindfulness" and "teambuilding skills"

- helps combat subconscious bigotries/power dynamics that lead to certain people getting talked over more than others (eg misogyny/racism/homophobia/transphobia/etc)

- ^ again may help you be more mindful of those patterns in yourself and work to unlearn them

- people who like you will want to emulate the behaviors of yours they see as good

- i know people will say "create a positive space around yourself and itll domino effect" all the time and it sounds like wishy washy hippie bullshit but genuinely i cannot emphasize enough that it really does work

- like ive watched it happen in real time, i don't think i have a single friend now that hasn't picked this up from me because They Like When I Do It, It Makes Them Feel Good

- nobody likes being interrupted and everybody gets interrupted All The Goddamn Time. like i need to really drive it home that im not exaggerting when i say you'll be a sorely needed reprieve if you make an effort to do this

- and they really will start doing it in return, likely without you even having to ask if that stresses you out

- it's a small and easy way to make the world a bit kinder for everyone

- godspeed my beloveds~

[franeridan]

dressrosa really is the best arc........it really just is.......