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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years ago

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Dressing for revenge [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7k

summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him

warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej

A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz

The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.

If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.

You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.

Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.

Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.

Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.

You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.

You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.

Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.

If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.

You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.

In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?

One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.

When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.

“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.

"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.

When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.

“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”

"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.

There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.

“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.

"I'm in a job and I need people"

Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.

"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."

"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.

“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.

“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”

"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."

"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"

"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.

You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.

"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."

"And risk him finding out and killing me?"

“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.

"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for"

"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"

"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest.

It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.

"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"

"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”

"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”

"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”

He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills.

"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"

“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.

"If someone should make him pay, it's us"

Us, again.

"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"

You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.

“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”

“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.

Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.

“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."

And then he left.

That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.

You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.

All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.

You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.

You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.

"Who are you?"

"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.

“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”

"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”

"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.

"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.

There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.

“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.

"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.

You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.

After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.

You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.

Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.

You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.

One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.

“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”

"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.

When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.

You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.

"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.

You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.

“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.

"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.

Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.

It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.

With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.

"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.

"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.

Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.

“Your pay will be ready soon”

"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.

You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.

"Your girl, did she leave?"

“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.

"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."

"She is"

"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.

"I think so," he said without much interest.

"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.

"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm"

"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.

He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed.

"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"

You stopped.

“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”

"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”

You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.

"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.

"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”

"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"

"It is not?"

"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"

You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.

“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.

“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”

He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.

“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”

"I do. I trust you"

"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”

You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.

"And if it's too late?"

It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.

But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.

“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”

You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.

You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:

“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”

Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.

You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.

"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.

The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.

The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.

It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.

Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight.

"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.

Silence reigned in the darkness.

You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"Thank you. For everything”

The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.

You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.

Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.

And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #the crows #six of crows #jesper fahey #inej gafha #wylan van eck #nina zenik #mathias helvar #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

Note

You know the “opposites attract” relationships?

How about do one with Brahms?

Brahms - clingy, protective, stiff

Reader - calm, trusting, soft

Brahms X calm! Reader

Thank youuuuu :)

❝clingy❞

✭ pairing : brahms heelshire x reader

✭ fandom : slashers

✭ summary : brahms is one hell of a touch starved man and when (y/n) came into his life he expected her to be just like all the others, but she isn’t. In fact she embraces him with welcome arms so does that mean all those people who left him are because it’s his fault?

✭ slashers masterlist

The wind whispered through the ancient trees that surrounded Heelshire Manor, casting eerie shadows on its aged façade. (Y/N) had applied for a simple job months ago, never imagining how peculiar her new role would become. The advertisement had called for a caretaker, someone to oversee the estate's unique collection of antiques and curiosities. Little did she know, her main charge would be a doll of all things.

The first time she laid eyes on the doll, she was taken aback. It was an exquisitely crafted replica of a man, dressed in aristocratic attire from a bygone era. The porcelain face bore an uncanny resemblance to the owner of the manor, Brahms Heelshire, whose family had owned the estate for generations. The locals whispered tales of the Hellshire curse, and their peculiar fascination only fueled the sense of mystery that hung over the manor.

As (Y/N) settled into her role, her days were filled with dusting ancient furniture, polishing silverware, and, most importantly, attending to the doll. The instructions were simple: ensure the doll's clothing remained impeccable, the porcelain visage remained pristine, and its position on the mantel stayed undisturbed. The task was mundane, yet it carried an air of reverence, as if the doll held some deeper significance that transcended its appearance.

Days turned into weeks, and (Y/N) gradually grew accustomed to her routine. The mansion's interior was an amalgamation of faded opulence and eerie silence. The walls seemed to whisper secrets, and the portraits of long-departed Heelshire ancestors stared down with solemn gazes. Every creak and rustle echoed through the hallways, keeping her senses on high alert.

One evening, as she carefully adjusted the doll's coat collar, she felt an inexplicable shiver run down her spine. A feeling of being watched settled over her, but she brushed it off as her imagination running wild. That night, though, as she lay in bed, she could have sworn she heard faint whispers carried on the breeze.

The following days brought a series of odd occurrences: a book left open to a specific page she hadn't touched, a teacup shifted slightly on its saucer. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was playing tricks on her, but each time she looked around, the empty rooms offered no answers.

It was on the night of a thunderstorm that everything changed. Lightning illuminated the mansion's darkened interior, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. (Y/N) found herself drawn to the doll, her fingers tracing its delicate features in the dim light.

And then, as the thunder roared and rain beat against the windows, she heard a whisper so faint it might have been her own imagination. "(Y/N)…" The voice seemed to emanate from within the doll itself.

Startled, she stumbled back, her heart racing. But then, as if responding to an unseen presence, the doll's eyes blinked. A shock of realization coursed through her: the doll was no mere doll; it was a conduit to something more.

"(Y/N)…" The voice was clearer this time, resonating through the room. She watched in awe as the doll's porcelain skin began to soften, its limbs shifting, as if a dormant life was awakening.

And then, from the doll's heart, a figure emerged. A man, dressed in period clothing, stood before her, his eyes fixed upon her with a mix of curiosity and caution. It was Brahms Heelshire himself, or a spectral semblance of him.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other in silence. (Y/N) was taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, her heart pounding in her chest. But amidst the shock and fear, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

The man, or whatever he was, spoke softly, his voice tinged with both melancholy and yearning. "You did not flee, as others before you have. Why?"

With a steady breath, (Y/N) met his gaze. "I believe that even the most peculiar of situations deserve a chance to be understood. And, in all honesty, I've grown fond of the company, even if it's a doll or a spectral form."

A ghostly smile touched his lips, and for the first time, she saw a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. "You’re courageous , (Y/N)."

And so, an unusual connection was forged within the walls of Heelshire Manor — a connection that transcended the boundaries between the living and the spectral. As (Y/N) continued her role as caretaker, the enigmatic Brahms Heelshire ventured forth from his hidden existence within the doll, revealing himself to her in a way no one else had dared to witness.

Over the course of the next few months and then two years, an unexpected bond blossomed between (Y/N) and Brahms. As the seasons changed, so did their relationship, evolving into something far beyond what (Y/N) could have ever anticipated. She had become accustomed to Brahms' spectral presence, his masked face a constant companion. Despite his initial mysterious aura, she found comfort in his company and the intriguing conversations they shared.

Brahms, for his part, reveled in the connection he had forged with (Y/N). No longer confined to the doll's form, he wandered the mansion's halls and rooms, always keeping a respectful distance from her. Yet, he was undeniably clingy, often hovering nearby, his presence an unspoken reassurance. His touch starvation, accumulated over years of isolation, drove him to seek her proximity. Whether it was watching her read in the library or tending to the mansion's gardens, he was there, his masked face silently observing.

Their bond deepened, and with time, their relationship took an unexpected turn. The unspoken attraction that had simmered between them evolved into a romantic connection. Their feelings grew steadily, and one evening, as the sun set over the mansion's sprawling gardens, Brahms removed his mask, revealing his disfigured face to (Y/N). She met his gaze without flinching, accepting him just as he was.

They became a couple, their connection forged in the quiet moments they shared, the lingering glances, and the touch of their hands. (Y/N) found herself drawn to his vulnerability and complexity, and he was captivated by her acceptance and compassion.

However, even as their relationship thrived, an undercurrent of unease began to surface. Brahms, though no longer confined to the doll, remained deeply afraid of losing (Y/N). His history of people fleeing from his presence had left scars that ran deep. His clinginess intensified, a silent plea for her to stay by his side.

As the months turned into years, Brahms' fear only grew. He watched as (Y/N) went about her daily routines, her calm demeanor seemingly unfazed by his constant presence. Yet, he couldn't shake the thought that his clinginess might drive her away. The fear of rejection gnawed at him, an invisible specter that haunted his every interaction with her.

One evening, as they sat by the fireplace, the crackling flames casting shadows on the walls, Brahms hesitated before speaking. "I fear that my need for your presence might become unbearable," he confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

(Y/N) turned to him, her eyes soft and understanding. "Brahms, you're not driving me away. I'm here because I choose to be. Your presence doesn't suffocate me; it's become a comfort."

He looked at her with a mix of hope and trepidation, struggling to believe her words. "But I'm constantly clinging to you, fearing that you might vanish like the others."

Gently, she reached out and took his hand. "Brahms, you're not alone anymore. I'm not going anywhere. We'll face your fears together."

A fragile smile graced his lips as he intertwined his fingers with hers, the weight of his vulnerability lessening, if only by a fraction. With her steady presence by his side, he dared to hope that he could overcome his past and embrace the happiness that had entered his life.

Their journey was far from easy, but with time, patience, and unwavering support, (Y/N) and Brahms forged a love that transcended the boundaries of the living and the spectral. And through it all, they learned that sometimes, the most profound connections are born from the places where fear and acceptance collide.

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martyryo · 8 days ago

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Okay

I don't do..anons. so yes, just gonna ask this as me‼️ Hello‼️‼️

When

Right okay, I saw your art like the yellow red one right and I saw you talking about your tulpa in that and it took me a second cause at first I thought you were doing a Collab with someone and I was looking for a tagged account or something 😭😭 and then I was like hang on it's not been tagged so it can't be that. And then I saw the hashtag about the tulpa thing and my brain was like, I've heard that term before. And I had, but it was cause of Supernatural. Think the episode was Hell House, either way in that course some kids draw a sigil and don't know what they're doing, spread a rumour and enough people see the sigil and believe the made up story for it to become real. I'm gonna hazard a guess that this isn't what's happening here. Cause 1. No axe murderers are present and 2...idk. suppose it wasn't on accident lol

But basically, what I'm asking is, what's gone on? Like please could you define what a tulpa is cause I'm a tad bit confuseled. I've got a grasp. A jist if you will. But yeh, that, and how it works for you and how long all this has been about for because yeh, the original post confused me a lot and I had no context to understand what was going on lol

Hiii!!!!!

Ok so, never watched supernatural cause I lack media culture, but I looked at the fandom wiki and I assure you it's NOTHING like that 😭

Ik the practice of creating a tulpa comes from buddhism and is related to religion and stuff, but like I found out about it through an online friend back in 2017ish cause they developed one. Needles to say, in these cases we're talking about the western interpretation of the phenomenon that is mainly psychological and not spiritual.

With a tulpa you bascially create a sentient being on a subconscious level that shares the body with you. Please note that this is not in any way related to conditions such as DID, as you do not have the splitting of a subconscious, you actually add more of them into a body. And an important aspect that separates tulpae from alters is that with a tulpa you're fully aware and consensual with having a second person inside the body, you will never accidentally develop a tulpa out of the blue.

To make an example also, imagine there's a wheel with a hamster inside, they represent respectively the body and the subconscious mind that inhabits it. Now imagine there are more hamsters but they're in the same wheel. That's a body with more subconsciouses (I might be butchering this word I'm so sorry).

Needless to say, doing this requires a long trail of meditation, as one needs to focus on everything they perceive out of a person normally (the way they look, talk, move, smell. you get it, everything) and obviously their personality. These things do change with time once the tulpa settles as a stable part of the host's (the one who creates them) life, but at least sketching down the idea of the person that you're creating helps in the overall process.

Ok so. The most important part. A tulpa is NOT evil, and cannot be evil. That's something I found out in the guides I followed at the start of my journey with my first tulpa. They have no reason to turn over their creator cause they are meant to be companions. I'm not super informed on the theory thing now cause I got into it two years ago and since then we've just been living, but there articles online who talk about this so feiughirgh

Now, in my experience Jack came to be part of my life around two years ago, on july 9th. I was going through a weird depressive period where I would not talk to anybody and felt like shit over nothing. During that time I also used to watch fight club a lot, like three times a week, and grew obsessively attached to the characters to the point all I thought about was fc (this feels so weird to remember omg). Anyways, remembered about my friend with the tulpa, and decided to do the same thing. So I got informed on the procedure and gradually managed to develop Jack over time :3

On the 27th of Trevor also started developing, in his case it was Jack that went throughout the major part of the creation process cause I was busy with school, but yeah since then it's been the three of us living life yk.

Also, I obviously got better since that summer, them being with me helped me out a lot and obviously I didn't create them with the intent of getting. Free experimental therapy or some shit. They are part of me and I love them ver very much, knowing that they're always with me brings a sense of sheer comfort in my life. I just love my bros man. Then again, I suck at communication so there are days when we talk less. nonetheless we still interact via concepts or through the headspace (mental landscape where they pretty much live when not fronting).

Oh, also lately we've been aware of the fact that Jack is kinda always fronting (fronting is having control of the body btw kewnkfkgb) during the day when we are in silence at a school or on the bus, while I am the one that keeps the conversations with people (ironic ik). Trevor instead has no interest in the outside world, he just stays in the headspace and works as a mechanic apparently (he doesn't tell me where his workplace is also??? like for no reason at all also, I can't find that fucking place no matter how much I roam around).

Ough ok I know I sound a bit insane saying those things, but that's how it is 💨

With tulpamacy there are so many aspects one can discuss, but again, there are guides online where everything you need to know is explained, and they are explained better than whatever ramble I'm putting down here. I'm not an expert of the field, I just happen to be living it yk.

Sorry for the long and I guess confusing post, there is much more stuff I could tell you about but like. I think this manages to get the overall idea of how we work out 😸

#ask #roenters #tulpaposting #mar lore #beware of the longpost oOOooooOOoooooOOoO

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writtenbyshama · 1 year ago

Text

Long Way Home [Part III]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part III

A few months later, Star fall was to commence soon.

Excitement was in the air, and I was looking forward to it too. Rhysand and Feyre were going to host a party, and preparations were already underway. Everyone pitched in to help between their usual duties, chattering about the outfits, the food, song and dance.

Mor and Feyre repeatedly asked me about my outfit for the event. I remained evasive, since I had no plans of actually attending the party. I'd be watching the sky from elsewhere. Even though I helped with the preparations as if I was going to attend, I was gradually emptying my quarters and shifting my things to an isolated property outside the city. This property was situated in a river valley backed by the large mountains surrounding Velaris. It was an inheritance passed down in our family, and I had remodelled the villa and the gardens with the help of my dad. It was a perfect place to avoid others, and I loved it very much. Father, on the other hand, didn't like to be alone for long periods of time and didn't visit it much.

While I was still in the process of shifting my things, I started sleeping less in the nights. I stayed awake at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea, working my anatomy drawings or study notes. The one thing I'd miss when I left was the library, so I tried to make extensive notes and copied important paragraphs from the books I read.

One night, I decided on a change of scenery and took my materials to one of the many balconies, making myself comfortable on the thick carpet. As usual, I had some tea in my favourite cup and lots of lamps to illuminate my work.

I had placed the tea-cup along with a glass jar of coloured pencils on a side table so that I wouldn't accidentally knock them off with my elbow. Leaning against the balcony railing, I was copying a detailed anatomical diagram of an Illyrian wing in my journal.

A sudden gust of wind knocked over the table and shattered the tea-cup and glass jar. I jumped, dropping my journal as I watched the carpet soak up my drink and pencils scattered everywhere. My favourite cup was broken to fragments.

Azriel appeared before I had the time to think what to do next.

"Oh, sorry," he pointed at the shattered pieces.

I sighed. The glass jar could be replaced, but the tea-cup was from one of a collection set of my mother's. It hadn't broken into very tiny pieces, though. Maybe I could put it back together, even if it couldn't be used. I could use another cup for drinking and keep this one back in its shelf.

I unfolded a drawstring pouch from my pocket and gathered all the pieces. Azriel helped by collecting the remains of the glass jar and the scattered pencils. The tea stain on the carpet couldn't be helped.

He didn't leave immediately after we finished, so I offered him a cup of tea while I brewed some for myself. He accepted, and soon enough, we had our own mugs of the hot liquid and sitting next to each other on the balcony floor, looking out into the night.

He cleared his throat. "That cup was important to you."

I nodded. A tendril of his shadow flickered near his neck, and slipped out of sight. "It's from a set that belonged to my mother."

His expression dropped from his usual polite blankness. "I'm truly sorry. If there's any way I can help fix—"

I held up a hand. "It's alright. I'll fix it by myself later on."

I was curious as to why he had appeared here. He had never actually come to a place I was in out of his own volition. I asked him about it.

He did not give a direct answer. "You weren't there in the kitchen. I was looking for you everywhere."

I fell silent, turning over his reply in my mind, unsure of how to proceed. Meanwhile, he laid down his mug and picked up the journal I used for sketching. This journal in particular was just pages and pages of anatomical Illyrian wings with the parts labelled and side information. I had drawn them in every possible angle and technique I could think of.

He slowly thumbed through the pages, his own wings slightly trembling in the breeze.

"These are really accurate," he commented as he stopped at one of the pages. His eyebrows went up, and I leaned over a bit to see what he was looking at.

It was a shaded sketch of a pair of hands, with the palms turned up. And they had scars on them. Azriel's hands, which I had drawn one feverish night from memory. Fuck.

I straightened, cupping my own mug with both hands and intensely staring at it, determined not to face him or acknowledge the drawing. My ears and neck turned hot with embarrassment. He stayed on that page for a long time before closing the journal and carefully keeping it on the carpet between us.

"Why the wings?" He asked after a while.

I shrugged. "I miss having them."

"What happened?"

I narrowed a side glance at him. "I'm sure you know what happened."

One corner of his mouth tipped up. "I do. But I'd like to hear the account from you."

I shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. Father was sent on a mission. Mother was already dead by that time and he had to take me with him since there was nobody else at the time to look after me. The task went wrong, and the enemy soldiers ripped off both our wings and left us to die. Only, we were somehow revived and brought back to life. It was quite a while before I learned how to properly balance myself without my wings."

"This was during the war, yes?"

"Yes."

He turned to me and gave me a once-over. "Your mother was not Illyrian."

I nodded. "She was a high fae from the Summer Court. It's a thing in our family's ancestry. We come from a long line of powerful healers, and not all our mates are Illyrian. She survived my birth, even with my wings, but she died during the second along with the child."

Noticing the sadness that crept into my voice, he changed the subject by pointing at my journal. "Why my hands?"

I blushed, turning away from his inquisitive gaze. "I find them beautiful, that's all."

He opened his mouth to reply, but stood up abruptly, his head cocked to the side as if listening to something.

"I have to go."

Going like this only meant one thing. "Is Elaine in need of help?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears.

He was on his way to one of the archways, and halted mid-stride. "Yes. Why?"

I shook my head, motioning for him to leave. "It's nothing. Go on. Don't let me keep you."

He took a step towards me. "But—"

"Just go."

He left.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

I took a nap right there on the carpet until the early morning rays warmed my skin. When I was awake, I started gathering all my things to go back to my room. Cassian appeared and waved at me as I stood up, my arms weighed down with the books and the empty mugs.

"Good morning, my chicken soup."

I laughed. "Morning, Cassian."

During my stay, Cassian had once fallen ill with a stomach problem and wouldn't eat anything and spat out the medicine. I mixed all the herbal concoction in some chicken soup, its flavours masking the bitterness of the herbs and fed it to him until he was better. From then on, he started calling me his chicken soup and always came to me in case of injuries and other illnesses.

He took some of my books and started walking me to my quarters. "I've fetched you breakfast, its in your room."

"Thanks."

When we reached my room, we unloaded our things on a table and I sat on a chair, keeping the breakfast tray on my lap. He took a seat on my bed and thoughtfully chewed on a piece of fruit.

His wings were gently fluttering and I couldn't stop staring.

"How does it feel to fly?" I asked in a low voice. My wings were ripped before I could do so.

His eyes softened. What happened to me and father was not a secret, everyone knew about it. He suddenly grinned as if he had a great idea.

"What if I show you, instead of describing it?"

I didn't know what to say. "Um, I don't know, I'm a pretty chubby woman, I might be too heavy for you to—"

He groaned dramatically. "Oh, come on. I will be put to shame if I can't carry you!" He stood up. "Finish your breakfast. I'll take you right now."

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum

@thelov3lybookworm

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 4 here.

Thank you for all the responses to my previous two parts of the story!

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

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viaviv124 · 1 year ago

Text

Angst Bowuigi Concept

So basically Luigi is stuck in a timeloop/reincarnation circle of sorts. He lives the same lifetime over and over and over again. It's always the same except one little thing changes each time at random, basically like the FUN values in undertale whenever you start a new run and you can have certain random events. As a child he doesnt remember his past lifes but around his late teens he gradually starts to rememeber.

Now, you see, Luigi is in love with Bowser. Deeply so. Yet Bowser only has eyes for Peach. There were a few timelines where Luigi was able to win Bowser over but then he always died to some accident. But he doesn't give up. He keeps trying and trying and trying, each and every possible method. And it doesn't work out. Nothing works out. So he's stuck in an endless chase for Bowsers love, hoping to grow old with him and die by natural causes in order to get out of this circle. No matter what changes, his feelings for Bowser are always there. And they don't go away. And each time he was close to his happy end he died suddenly, so this has to be it, right? A happily-ever-after.

When he's dead there's a brief period where he finds himself in a weird place with weird orbs flowing around. At first it was just one. The amount increased each time. By now it's pretty much overfilled. The orbs show Luigi's life of the particular circle lt was created from. And he can't help but hurt himself by looking at the ones where he was happy, even for a short while. Espacially if it's after a circle where Bowser dispised him.

There as one life in particular Luigi holds dearly. The first time Bowser requited his love. He had also told Bowser what was happening with him, how often he's been doing this and how much he was suffering. And Bowser held him. Not asking questions, not doubting him, just holding him close and giving him the warmth he's been craving for so long. This was coincidentally the timeline where their relationship was at it's best. They managed to spend 10 years together. Luigi thought he's finally free. And then? One of the sharp decorative parts on a chandelier broke off, impaling Luigi right through the heart. And then he was back in this weird, white place. And that's when he realized he wasn't free. Would probably never be.

So its again time to wait for the next re-birth, spending it either by watching old lifes or drowning in self-pity.

#bowuigi #bowser x luigi #luigi #luigi x bowser #smb #super mario luigi #super mario bros #super mario #bowser #angst #i thrive off depression atp tbh #also btw the 'hub' thingy with the orbs looks to me like this weird sky thingy in the tokyo ghoul opening #if you know what i mean

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magnolia-sunrise · 5 months ago

Note

The way you explore Bastien’s sense of identity through his presentation reminds me of an OC of mine, so they might see eye to eye in at least some respects! My guy Evan (he/him) is a fat trans man who figured out he was trans a little late into his teenage years because he was too preoccupied being the third parent to his three younger siblings. Eventually this fact about himself was too strong for him to ignore, though, and thus he quickly began the process of socially transitioning and gradually sought medical transition as well. He changed names several times throughout this period (Callum, Beck, Rory, and many others among them)

His parents… They weren’t *un*supportive, but in the very least his mother, who saw a lot of herself in her oldest child, indulged his desire to transition while never quite shaking his deadname out of her vocabulary, you know? Especially with him changing names *so* often, it’s just *so* hard to remember which one is right these days. And Evan wanted to maintain a relationship with his parents for a long time (honestly what he wanted was to stay close to his siblings, the youngest of whom is 13 years younger than him). It wasn’t until after he met his eventual spouse, Isador (he/she), who called him by the right name consistently, who encouraged him to experiment and figure out what he liked about being trans, and who showed him what supportive family looks like (Isador was raised by her grandmother who absolutely loves the hell out of her grandkid), that he eventually got the courage to confront his parents. This eventually leads to him going no-contact with said parents, although his siblings reach back out to him on their own

It takes a WHILE for Evan to feel comfortable circling back to femininity for himself, and to feel totally comfortable in his body even then. He grows out a beard and dresses in layers to kind of hide how his body looks underneath. He pushed his feminine hobbies and interests to the side Hard when he started socially transitioning, because he convinced himself he Had to, and instead leans hard into new hobbies like handiwork and cars. Once again he’s content to simply push through the feelings as though they’re small, until they’re too big to ignore. Years down the line, after he and Isador are married, he can admit to himself that Christina Aguilera may still be one of his favourite artists. After they have a daughter together, he comes back to the mending skills he learned as a kid in order to fix her dolls — and maybe even make her some, when he feels brave enough

Evan also tends to be good at reading people and social settings, and if he knew Bastien to any degree, I think he’d be thrilled to see how their sense of personal style and the way they carry themselves changes over time. It’s good to see :)

(Wolfgang and Isador would also absolutely queen out. That’s a separate thing skhdjssjg)

(sorry for getting to this a bit late i got this ask as i was heading out!)

helloooo Evan(and Isador!!) so nice to meet them :") <3 !

really really love how much care and love you put into his story and the realistic and long identity journey (some of the family stuff really hits so hard).

i don't post about this stuff much since its not relevant to the story and i like exploring my characters identities in relation to each other but Bastien left his family when he was fairly young to get himself out of that town and that deeply supressive environment and off to med school as far away as possible, and they've been no contact pretty much since. he used to be a twinkish dyke, and then a dykish twink early on in university and that environment was really fundamental in experimenting with gender and sexuality for him. he was also really lonely, and unsure of anything - getting himself DIY testoterone and then waffling whether he actually wanted to go on it, then waffling about some of the changes, then waffling about top surgery (so he spent some years walking around with mustache and tits) just. a lot of anxiety and stress all the time, they preferred to just put their studies ahead of anything else and only engage in sexuality in terms of one night flings on campus. then after one dramatic event and a shoulder injury, continuing studies was no longer an option and his life just. shattered.

this is where Matteo came into his life in a bigger way, and immediately he was someone really attractive because he seemed so confident, his life figured out, future lined out. it was intoxicating to be in the presence of someone so self assured without a care in the world. who in turn also accepted Bastien - at least back then, when he was a depressed twink Matteo could "save"- and motivated him. but ultimately it was like jumping from one form loneliness and isolation into another form of it, now depending on his cis partner, surrounded by Matteos cis rich friends. his body still changing, gaining weight, feeling unattractive to his partner and locked into specific way of gender and sexuality expression, losing sense of his identity and what they even wanted to do with their life. its so alienating.

all this is to say-- i think if Bastien knew somemone like Evan early on, he would have really loved to have a friend like that - someone going through similar experiences i feel like they could have found a lot of strength and support in each other :") i think if they stayed in touch and friendly over the years, they could have been really positive influences on each other and maybe Bastien would not have such deep seated issues opening up to other people and even to himself. lost in the thought imagining the happiness Bastien would feel visiting Evan's family and seeing the pure love and joy there and what it took to get there its just :"))))) maybe he even would have the strength to leave his unhappy relationship seeing what it's like to be *actually* really accepted when seeing how Isador loves Evan :"))

thank you for sharing!!

#answered #oc chat #making this a new tag to talk about our OCs together

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cl0ckworkpuppet · 1 year ago

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i think, as a language nerd who has studied a lot about the history and evolution of language, the weirdest and worst take you could ever have about any kind of language is "well [x word, phrase, or entire language] was originally THIS so therefore it can never be [insert other thing]!!!".

this, fundamentally, misunderstands the entire concept of language evolving with time, cultural change, geographical movement, necessity, or yes, even vast societal "misuse". (for example: words can be slurs, even if their original usage was completely innocent, when they evolve to become slurs, like the R-slur.)

definitions of words can and do change all the time. it's almost never an instantaneous change, usually over a long period of time with gradual adjustment of use or spelling. just look up any article about words that have changed over time. i have one right here for you if you're interested.

on a larger scale, the evolution of language is inevitable and the reason why language families exist. it's also the reason why language variations like Middle English and Old French exist, as well as languages like Latin and... well, every single proto-language. (wikipedia article jumpscare warning, if you care about that. it's just a list but in case someone is stingy.)

languages can die, languages can come back to life. words can fall out of usage, or change meaning, or pronunciation, or spelling. they can start to cover categories they didn't before, they can cease to cover categories they once did, or they can switch demographics entirely (or cease to cover any demographics at all). dialects, too, can come and go, they can shift and change, they can even slowly break apart into two entirely separate dialects. and, yes, even in the present day, two different people can have wildly different definitions of the exact same word.

this is not to say that the history of words, phrases, languages, or any other kinds of communication is not important. it's incredibly important to take into account when understanding the culture(s) behind it as a whole. it can give you insight into the possible meaning(s) and interpretation(s) of a word or phrase you're seeing right now. you can formulate an opinion on what definition you want to go with based on the history of the word, or you can adopt dialects of a language based on your connection to a cultural history.

but the biggest mistake in interpreting language is narrowing your viewpoint of it to your own experiences, and refusing to accept the idea that evolution, change, and adaptation are not only possible, but necessary for the survival of a language and its children.

#language #languages #lingustics #language stuff #stop judging every language like it's modern english im gonna kick you

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arabian-batboy · 5 months ago

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Okay genuine question then. Should i not vote.

Do i sit back and let the genocidal maniac who is set on ruining everything EVERYWHERE win. Or do i try and sway it to the genocidal maniac who is at least advocating for my ability to afford food.

Thats the decision im faced with here. If you have any suggestions i am more than open to them! we just. dont have many options.

I dont disagree with you, theyre both horrible. But one of them will win either way. This is a "lesser of two evils" situation, and you either watch everything burn or try to sway it to the person who has at least ONE thing you support. there's unfortunately no magical third option that fixes everything. I'm open to suggestions, believe me, we are genuinely looking for them.

How many times do we need to have this conversation before you people realize that the "lesser of two evils" is just a sham, both parties are equally evil and have equal amount of blood on their hands? They just brainwashed you idiots into believing you will actually be able to "afford food" under one of them when both of them will gladly have you starve to death as long as they can keep dropping bombs over innocent civilians half-way across the world because they know most of you will continue being divided into voting one of them without ever considering the possibility of voting for a 3rd party that will not prioritize imperialism in the global south over their hungry citizens.

Which is why you're asking if not wanting to vote for democrats means you shouldn't bother going to the voting booth at all, its 2024 and your brain still can't comprehends that you have the right to vote for a 3rd party and that's exactly why your 2 parties system (which in reality is actually just a one party system) managed to last so long.

And I'm not an idiot, I know how hard it is for a 3rd party to win elections and that it's not something that can happen over-night, but there's a start for everything and unless you're willing to continuously invest in a 3rd party for a long period of time so that they can gradually grow in numbers then nothing will change.

Do I believe a 3rd party might win this elections or even the next elections? Probably not, but it doesn't change the fact that the green party (as well as the Libertarian party) is more popular than ever now and that US's unconditional support for history most-documented genocide in Gaza as well as how AIPAC gleefully publicly announce how literally all the candidates they finance have won their elections has made more people wake the fuck up and realize realize how broken and corrupted their system is and how voting 3rd party is the only way to fix it and who knows? Maybe voting 3rd party, even if it will not results in them winning, might influence the other 2 parties to start adopting similar policies to the green party, not because they actually care about innocent people dying, but in hopes they can lure 3rd party voters into coming back to vote for them.

So until that day comes, I will continue clowning people who support either republicans or democrats because that's the only way to grow numbers for a 3rd party and if you still don't believe me and genuinely still believe that the US's government literally can NOT be run by non-war criminals? Then the US simply shouldn't exist and I pray another superpower will come and destroy it in the future, after all why should the lives of American citizens (who don't want to put any efforts into stopping their government from using their tax money to commit more war-crimes and state-sponsored terrorism) be worth more than non-Americans?

Again, assuming what you think about the 2 parties system being unchangeable is true, which I personally don't believe.

#green party #Jill Stein #Libertarian Party

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gnabnahc317cb97 · 3 months ago

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Till the End

Minho x Female reader

Word Count: 4.2K

But if the world was ending you'd come over right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night. Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant. If the world was ending you'd come over right? The sky'd be falling and I'll hold you tight and there wouldn't be a reason why we would even have to say goodbye. If the world was ending you'd come over right? Right?

Warnings: This is pretty vanilla for me so there isn't much. Strong language/cursing, Alluding to excessive drinking, unprotected piv sex (please use your brain and protection!), oral (f receiving), cream pie. I honestly think that's it (which is surprising for me!) As always if I forgot anything just let me know and I'll add it to the warnings

Minho was just getting ready to wind down. It was Friday and he was going to relax for the night after another long week at work. He was just about to put on pajamas and turn something on Netflix. Exactly what most of his weekends looked like these days ever since the two of you had split up. It had been his decision to end things. His work sent him away for long periods and every time he left it was so hard on you. You were always understanding, it was his job, you knew he had to go but he could see how it wore on you more every time he came back. He didn’t want to be one of those people that chipped away at their partner gradually until they weren’t themselves anymore, just a shell of what used to be a joyful and energetic person. You needed someone who could be more present instead of waiting around for Minho to give you the type of relationship you deserved. He couldn’t be that person.

So, he broke things off only saying that he thought it was for the best and not really elaborating beyond that. He was sure that even to you, it probably seemed cold. Most people thought he was but you were one of the few that didn’t or at least you didn’t used to. The day he left was so hard he almost couldn’t do it. You had stayed in bed the whole day while he moved his things out of your shared apartment. He had come to the door of your bedroom to say goodbye. You didn’t cry. You didn’t do anything you just laid there. As soon as he’d left you got out of the bed you had shared together and went to the couch, unable to stand laying there without him.

When Minho left, he cut off all contact. It was the only way he knew he would follow through. He deleted all his social media and blocked your number on his phone. You had tried to call one time but when you realized he had blocked your number you never tried again. Minho didn’t go out, one because he didn’t want to but also because he feared running into you, maybe even on a date. He went to work, went home, watched tv, went out of town, and then came home to nothing. Work, home, plane, nothing but as long as you were thriving, he could live, maybe not happily but he could survive.

Most nights when he sat in his apartment he thought of you, only half paying attention to what ever show he’d picked for the night, more background noise than anything, so he didn’t get totally lost in his head thinking of you. That’s what Minho was just getting ready to do, change, flop down on his couch, pick a mindless show and try to not think about how much he missed you and how he hoped you were doing okay and happy. Minho was just about to strip his shirt off and then his phone started to ring. He looked at the screen and didn’t recognize the number but it was local so he swiped to answer it.

“Hello?”

“H-hello? Minho?” It was you. You must have gotten a new phone. He was silent on the line unsure of what to say or do. Should he just hang up?

“Min? Y-You therr?” You sounded drunk and you sounded upset. He couldn’t hang up on you like that.

“Yea. Yea, I’m here Y/N. What’s up?” He could hear you shifting around moving on the other end of the phone and then a heavy breath.

“Doyouu rememer our promise to each other?” Of course he did. It was a silly promise made between two people that saw forever in each other at the time. He remembered everything about the night you both had made it.

You had watched War of the Worlds and it had scared you to death. You hated movies like that, about the end of the world. It made you feel small and powerless. You had clutched onto Minho’s arm.

“If the world were ending you’d come find me, right?” He leaned over and kissed the top of your head.

“Of course kitten.” You sat up and looked at him seriously.

“Really, I’m serious if the world was ending you’d come find me, right? I would try and find you. I would want the last bit of time I had left to be with you. I would try.” Minho’s heart had never felt so full hearing those words come from you. He kissed you, a soft kiss with a promise attached to it.

“I promise if the world is ending I won’t stop until I find you and spend my last breath with you.” You had practically thrown yourself on top of him after that, kissing him and climbing into his lap.

“I promise too Min. I promise.” You attacked his mouth again, pulling at his clothes as he tugged at yours. You had made love on the couch as the credits to the stupid movie started to roll. So much passion, so much love. The relationship was never lacking of either of those things. It just lacked Minho’s ability to give you the time you deserved to have more moments like that.

Yes, Minho definitely remembered the promise. He answered your question.

“Yes, I remember our promise Y/N.” He spoke softly not wanting to upset you further. Hoping what he was saying was soothing you and not the opposite.

“I-w-Can you come over?” Minho sighed.

“I don’t think that’s a g-” You continued to talk like he wasn’t speaking at all.

“Cause Min... Minho my world s‘ending. You’ll come over right?” You sounded like you were exhausted. His heart broke hearing you like that.

“What do you mean your world is ending Y/N?” A heavy breath and no reply.

“Y/N? What do you mean?” Nothing. Just silence.

“Y/N!? Answer me?!” He looked at the phone it was still connected to your call.

“Y/N!!!” Minho jumped up panicked that perhaps you had done something to yourself. He grabbed his shoes and fought getting them on his feet as he ran to his car in the parking garage. He had you on speaker phone, the call still connected and you still wouldn’t answer him. He raced to the old apartment you used to share with his heart in his throat. He parked like an absolute asshole not caring at that moment, just trying to get to you as quickly as possible. He ran up the stairs to your floor, kicked over the flower pot, and grabbed the spare key he’d told your forever ago to stop hiding there.

When he walked into the apartment he was a little shocked. It was a mess. Blankets and pillows piled on the couch. Clearly where you had been doing the majority, if not all of your sleeping. There was a thin layer of dust on the tv and shelves and a few discarded books around the table by the couch. He called out your name and heard a groan. He walked further into the apartment, through the living room and into the kitchen where he found you on the floor.

“Y/N?! Jesus Christ are you okay?!” He knelt down and turned you over so he could make sure you were breathing. You were thank God. Minho stood up to grab a rag to wet and wipe your face off, try and cool you down but there were no clean rags and the sink was full of dishes. He managed to find some paper towel and ran to wet it in the bathroom quickly. He came back and crouched by you again. He propped you up in his arms a bit and started running the cool paper towel over your forehead. You started coming to.

“Hey, hey can you hear me? Y/N?” You nodded lazily.

“Icn-hear you Minnie.” Minho let out a heavy sigh at the use of the nick name but also relieved to hear you at least somewhat answer him.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He sounded ao sad and worried. You curled up closer to him trying to absorb as much of his warmth and smell as possible.

“Dyou rememer the time we went out with our frins and got sdrunk when we got home we stumled through the door all lovr each other and only got asfar as the kinchin before we couldn’t wait any longer to...” You trailed off looking up at him sitting there on that same floor with you now. You grabbed his face and kissed him. You did it so quickly he didn’t realize it was happening at first but he pulled away immediately.

“No Y/N don’t. You’re drunk. I need to get you to bed.” You shook your head.

“Yes Minho take me to bed.” He knew what you meant but there was no way in hell he would ever sleep with you, under any circumstance, when you were as completely wasted as you were now. He got you to your bed and laid down. You tried to pull him into the bed with you.

“No I already told you Y/N you’re drunk, stop.” You started to get teary eyed.

“Will you lay with me til I fall sleep? Please I can’t sleepa lone in our bed.” Minho debated if that was a good idea but decided it would probably be easier to get you to go to sleep if he just did it. He walked around the bed and climbed in on his old side. You rolled over and hugged his arm and nuzzled close. He pulled his arm free and you started to protest but then he put it around you and pulled you close. You rested in the crook of his arm and your eyes started to get heavy. He thought you were just about asleep when you spoke softly.

“Made you not love me anymore.” He looked down at you.

"What Y/N?" Tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes but they were closed.

"Made you not love me. Why?" Then it was clear to Minho that you were talking in your sleep. He kissed the top of your head.

“You never made me stop loving you, I’ve never stopped loving you kitten. I’m sorry that’s what you thought.” Once Minho was sure you were deep asleep he got up and covered you up. He went and straightened up the living room collecting the blankets to wash and placing all your books back onto the shelves. Then he tackled the dishes and the kitchen. Minho went through room to room and made sure everything was dusted and all the dishes and clothes were gathered for washing. Thinking about the decision he’d made and how maybe it wasn’t the right one after all.

At about 3am he was putting the last load in the dryer. Minho went back into your room. He looked over and checked on you. You were resting peacefully it seemed. He put a bottle of water and Tylenol on your nightstand and then sat on the floor and leaned against the dresser next to your side of the bed and watched you sleeping. He didn’t even realize it when he started falling asleep himself.

When you woke up your head was killing you. You wished you didn’t know why but you did. You had done what you did every weekend when you didn’t have work to distract you. The last thing you remembered was racing to the bottom of a fifth of tequila trying to forget about Minho, about the pain.

You rolled over so you could get some water and brush your teeth to get the tequila taste out of your mouth. That’s when you saw Minho curled up on the floor on your side of the bed, asleep. Your heart instantly broke again like it had every day since he had left. You looked over and saw the bottle of water and pills. You drank some and took two of the Tylenol then you swallowed the pain down and tried to keep yourself together as you grabbed Minho’s shoulder and gently shook him. He woke up a bit startled and then saw you looking down at him. You were definitely sober now. You looked very confused and upset to see him there, although he could tell you were trying to hide it.

“Minho what are you doing here?” He assumed you had blacked out so he wasn’t surprised you didn’t remember anything.

“Uh you called me at about eleven last night. You sounded upset.” You cringed. Upset you were certain was code for trashed in this case.

“You had mentioned our promise and I was worried about you so I came to check on you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You shook your head and acted like he hadn’t just seen you shitfaced drunk in your apartment that was completely trashed because you hadn’t cared to clean anything since he left.

“Oh God no, yea, no, I’m fine it was just a bad day. I’m sorry I made you worry. I’m sure that’s not how you wanted to spend your Friday night. Sorry if I made you feel guilty or obligated to come, I hope I didn’t interrupt any of your plans.” Minho frowned a little, his face still puffy from sleep, or lack thereof more like it.

“No you didn’t. I just had to make sure you were okay Y/N.” You nodded and did your best to fake it, smile through the crushing torment having him there was causing.

“Yeah! Oh I’m good. Psh, like I said just a bad day.” Minho gave you a doubtful look.

“Y/N-” His tone, you couldn’t. You got up quickly and walked out of the room. You had to get away. You couldn’t stay in your old room with him any longer and you needed more space between the two of you. You could feel Minho was getting up to follow you. You ducked into the bathroom to get away. You got washed up and your teeth brushed. When you came out you didn’t see Minho, you had hoped he had just left. You didn’t want any more good byes with him.

You walked to the kitchen to grab a can of iced coffee out of your fridge. When you walked in you were surprised to see it clean, dishes done and put away and then Minho walked in behind you and you stopped. You looked at him and then quickly looked away. Since everything was clean you started making coffee instead of grabbing a can, trying to busy yourself so you didn’t have to look him in the face. It was too hard.

“You didn’t have to clean Minho.” He walked over next to you and you wished he wouldn’t. Why did he have to come closer. He was like fire, the closer he was the more it hurt.

“Y/N look at me.” You shook your head and fought the tears that were battling their way to the surface. He made you turn to him and you looked at the floor as you tried acting like you weren’t dying inside that very second having him near you, touching you.

“Thank you for coming to check on me and for cleaning up. I’m sorry for worrying you. You don’t have to waste anymore of your time dealing with me. I’m sorry, I swear I won’t bother you again. You’re good to go.” You were trying to give him an easy out. You were trying to let him go because that was what he had convinced you he wanted. Minho put a finger under your chin and tilted your head up. The tears that had collected while you were looking down fell but you still refused to look at him glancing to the side instead.

“Y/N I have made a terrible mistake.” You wiped your eyes, took a step back away from Minho and put your mask back on.

“No no don’t, you don’t have to... look I’m okay really,” You started making the coffee again.

“As long as you’re happy Min I'm good. Seriously.”

“But I’m not. I’m miserable without you.” You looked at him absolutely shocked to hear that. You had always thought he’d fallen out of love with you but didn’t want to hurt you by saying it so he’d just ended things and left.

“Then w-why did you go Minho?” Your voice shook and he ran his hands through his hair frustrated with himself.

“I thought you would be better off. I saw how hard me being gone was on you. Every time I came back from a trip you were so tired and I didn’t want to keep wearing you down. I felt like you deserved someone that could give you more of those special moments, like when we made our promise about the end of the world. You needed someone that could give you hundreds of those special moments. I thought you would be happier.” You stopped making the coffee again and turned to look at him confused, angry.

“You thought I would be HAPPIER?! BETTER?! What you saw last night, does it look like I’m either of those things Minho?! Cause that’s my life when I’m not working now. Drunk, sad, ALONE!” You were so angry. Why hadn’t he just talked to you?

“I was always tired when you got home because of my job. I overworked myself while you were gone so that when you were home, I got to spend all my spare time with you and not at my job. I don’t need a hundred of those special moments. Then they aren’t special. Our moments were special because they didn’t get to happen all the time and because they were with you Minho. Anything I got was enough as long as it was with you.” You no longer bothered trying to hold back the tears. Minho clearly saw how stupid he’d been. That he’d left because of his own insecurities and didn’t even bother to discuss it with you, causing you so much confusion and pain. He just wanted you to know that he did love you, that he never stopped. He grabbed you by the face and kissed you and you pushed him away and beat your fists against his chest crying.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?! What you put me through!” You stopped and buried your face against him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry baby. Please give me a chance to fix things. Please!” You wrapped your arms around Minho’s neck and kissed him as tears still streaked your face.

“Until the end of the world Minho, I will always love you.” You kissed him as if it would never be enough, your fingers running through his hair pulling him closer.

“Promise, me Min. Promise you’ll stay, please stay.” Minho shook his head as he feverishly kissed you in return.

“I do I promise I’ll never leave you again. I love you Y/N.” You pulled at Minho’s shirt and he broke the kiss long enough for you to remove it over his head before claiming your lips again.

“I need you Min please.” You both made your way towards your bedroom. Hands stripping clothes off on the way, lips and teeth marking, claiming skin that had always belonged the other. You were both naked by the time you had made it to the bed. You crawled back and Minho climbed over you. His lips trailed down your neck and chest. When he got to your breasts, he squeezed them together and swirled his tongue around one of your nipples before gently sucking on it. He flattened his tongue and licked the other nipple before sucking it between his red swollen lips too.

“Minho.” His name came out a breath as he placed wet, open mouth kisses down your tummy towards your aching core. He ran his fingers up and down your thighs looking up at you asking to claim you with his eyes.

“Please Minho don’t stop.” He placed kisses up each of your thighs before spreading you open and running his tongue through your folds. He latched onto your clit and groaned at the taste of you, sending vibrations through your cunt.

“Yes, Min oh god. Yes, just like that.” He sucked and licked at your clit as you raked your finger nails over his scalp and moaned his name out like a chant. He added two fingers, sliding them inside you, gently pushing them deeper and curling them as he continued to consume you. You could feel the buildup, it was coming on quickly.

“Don’t stop! I’m g-FUCK! Gonna cum Minho!” He didn’t, he continued his rhythm pushing you further into your orgasm.

“I’m oh my god I’m coming Minho. Yes, fuck, yes! Oh god!” Minho gave you gentle licks, slowly pushing pumping his fingers in and out of you, easing you through your climax and as you came back down he placed tender kisses trailing up your body. When his lips made contact with yours again you held his face and you nuzzled your nose against the tip of his, something you did a lot after he made you cum. You nibbled at his lips making him laugh, you were giving him all your tells that you’d just had an amazing orgasm.

“Was it that good kitten?” He smirked and cocked his eyebrow at you. You laughed and smacked him.

“Not the time to get cocky sir.” You grabbed his achingly hard erection firmly and his eyes closed and his breath hitched in his throat. He smiled at you and kissed you again, taking your breath away just like every time he kissed you. You lined his cock up with your entrance and looked at him pushing his hair away from his face.

“Min, I love you, please take me, make me yours.” Minho pushed the tip in and slowly sank into your dripping center. He bottomed out inside of you and gave you time to adjust to his size in you. He placed tender kisses on your cheeks and lips before looking into your eyes.

“I love you too Y/N so much. I love you.” He pulled out and pushed back into you reveling in the feeling of your plush walls surrounding his cock.

“God you feel amazing baby, so warm and wet. You’re taking me so well kitten.” He picked up his rhythm pushing deeper into you.

“You do too Minho, feel so good inside me, I missed you so much. It feels so good.” He grunted and thrusted harder and you moaned out louder.

“Ah there she is.” He propped himself over you and started snapping his hips into yours.

“Oh fuck, yes fuck Min-Minho right there God yes you make me feel so good baby! You’re so good! Don’t stop.” He was sweating, drilling himself into you harder and faster pursuing both of your climaxes.

“I’m close kitten I’m so close. Cum with me gorgeous.” His fingers danced across his slick tongue and then his hand slid between you and he started rubbing your clit as he continued to attack that delicious spot inside you with his cock.

“Cum with me baby, cum with me.” You didn’t need to be told again. Minho pushed you over the edge with another thrust and you came moaning his name out.

“Minhoooo fuck fuck, cum inside me, cum for me Min!” He groaned out, the sound made your toes curl as he fucked you through your peak and spilling his load inside you.

“Oh my god Y/N oh god yes take it beautiful. Fuck I'm coming, FUCK!” Minho shook and shuddered through the remnants of his orgasm before collapsing next to you on the bed. You both laid there splayed out trying to catch your breath. You sighed and looked over at Minho.

“We should probably get cleaned up we have a lot to do today.” Minho looked confused. He’d had no plans that he knew of. He had hoped plans now included fucking, sleeping, and eating on and off all day to make up for lost time.

“I know it’s the weekend but I want to get a jump on figuring out how we can break your lease, find movers and pick a day for them to get your stuff.” Minho looked at the ceiling and laughed. Here he was still trying to catch his breath post nut and you were already planning lease agreements and movers.

“Just like that huh?” He said smirking at you. You shook your head matter of factly.

“Yep, just like that. Why what were you thinking?” He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you from behind and buried his face in your neck, kissing and nipping your sweet spots.

“I was thinking maybe we start that on Monday and stay in today. Pretend like the world is ending tomorrow and never leave the bed.” His lips and bunny teeth trailed down your neck and shoulder and you giggled and sighed, happy to pretend the world was ending everyday with Minho for the rest of your life.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

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