#it's the angsty ending nobody wanted lol

[crypticvirago]

Something Wounding lore related that I think about a lot, that I never touched on or will ever expound upon, is that if the Network still exists for Al-An to rejoin, he will become a complete stranger to Robin.

Al-An is the name of one component of the Network that was pulled out of it and forced to be an individual for a thousand years. Al-An grew to find his sense of self as an individual thanks to Robin's influence, with the "Network" he developed with her. If he were to trade that in to be re-enveloped in the one with his people, he would lose his individuality, and become more like that version of himself that he mentioned as being unrecognizable in Chapter 6.

I dunno. I think it would be a great bad ending, if Al-An were to reconnect with his people and completely lose any and all of the attachments he'd formed with Robin. Robin realizing that she'd been able to help him get home and find family again, but to entirely lose him in the process.

[kwyoz]

almost done replaying cyberpunk again and johnny's dialogue in the suicide ending almost got me again, besties!!

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[jinxvex]

heyy! if u take requests i was wondering if you would make an enemy sevika x reader, where they treat each other like shit until sevika has enough and fucks the shit out of reader 💪😊

♱ enemy. (enemy!sevika x reader) ♱

enemies to lovers is lowkey my fave trope so, let’s go!!

also sorry i haven’t posted! finals week… 🫠😓

cw: nsfw, kink city LOL!! sevika is v rough, possessiveness, BDSM elements, BREEDING KINK (oops), name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, etc), cursing, arguing, a tiny bit angsty, spanking, choking, hair-pulling, doggy position, she eats you out!! it's sweet towards the end dw!

there's def more but OOP-

wc: 4.2K! (oops)

sevika hates you.

1. she hates the way your hips sway when you walk.

she’s definitely ALWAYS looking at your ass.

2. she hates how you talk and how you giggle under your breath when you laugh at something you shouldn’t. your voice sounds like music, like wind chimes in the spring that cause her vision to blur.

3. she hates the way your skin glows in the sunlight.

4. she hates how you dress and style your hair. you stand out. you personally customize your clothing, adding your own detailing on platform boots, jeans, jewelry, belts, accessories, tops, and jackets. your uniqueness annoys her beyond belief.

“what a fuckin’ show-off! this isn’t a fashion show,” she mutters under her breath to get a rise out of you.

5. she hates the way you talk back to her, even when she starts an argument first.

“well maybe you could learn something, you wear the same shit like… every day,” you respond briskly, already sick of her berating you as you’ve just walked through the doors of silco’s office.

she’s older than you, you should show some respect! you act so high and mighty like nobody can crack that tough persona you put on to protect yourself from the dark and dangerous streets of zaun.

she scoffs. her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the stress you’ve subjected her to. she cannot believe this.

“see? this… child is so incompetent! fuckin’ impossible to work with! she’s probably late to this meeting because she’s too busy playing dress up to actually do her job.” she directs towards you although not looking at you, opting to look at the tall chair covering silco’s body as she sits in the chair across from his.

silco sighs, clearly annoyed at both of your antics. he swivels around in his chair to face you both.

“actually, she was doing something i assigned her to. last minute, but she always gets the job done.”

sevika’s eyes flicker to you, and you smirk at her assumption that you were accidentally late.

she scoffs again and drags her grey-ish eyes back to silco as she leans to the left, almost trying to get away from you standing at her right with your arms crossed.

“you see… you two are my best. i cannot afford to have you both acting like children when doing business. it could threaten everything i’ve—we’ve built. one wrong move could tarnish this.”

you and sevika stay quiet as you avoid eye contact with each other, you taking a newfound interest in the bookshelf as sevika’s eyes burn holes into the ground. you knew deep down that silco was right.

“it's time you’ve both gotten along, for all of our sakes. don’t disappoint me again.”

…

you haven’t seen sevika since silco’s ‘lecture’ he gave you two a couple of days ago.

it's evening in zaun, streets and bars filling with people as the night threatens to begin.

you sat on the couch in the living room of your tiny yet, surprisingly homey apartment. your legs resting on the coffee table and you busy munching on cheap snacks, reflecting on the conversation that took place not too long ago. you were livid.

i mean, what else more did he want from you!

sevika was impossible. you tried to get along with her in the beginning but no matter what, she hated you!

she constantly finds new ways to poke fun at you, belittle you, and insult your intelligence. she obviously thinks you aren’t worthy of being a part of silco’s inner circle and that offends you.

and yes, she’s incredibly hot, but all of that was overshadowed the moment she decided you were a piece of gum on her boot!

you sigh incredulously, “damn… i need a drink.”

…

a few minutes later, you’re walking into the last drop and making a beeline for the bar.

as you sit down, your hands graze the edges of the countertop and you close your eyes briefly to let out a breath you’ve held in your throat for…

who knows how long?

that garners the attention of thieram, the kind bartender whom you’d had polite conversation with in the past. you’d taken quite a liking to his kind personality in the past.

“what would you like tonight, miss?” he smiles at you.

as you rummage through your mind for something to order, there isn’t much.

you aren’t a big drinker so it was hard to decipher what was good and what wasn’t because you simply don’t know.

“she’ll have the whiskey, best you've got.” you hear a gruff voice come from behind you. you hear the person’s rough steps come to a stop beside you and they sit.

“ugh.” you scoff out loud and roll your eyes dramatically as you avoid looking in her direction to your right.

sevika.

“coming right up…” thieram, not even wanting to know, swiftly walks off to make your drink.

“what do you want?!” you huff out in annoyance as you finally bring your head up to make eye contact with her.

“nothin’… just enjoying you strugglin’ to order. jus’ was painful to watch, doll.”

your eyebrows raise as your mouth opens and closes, you not exactly knowing how to respond. especially to "doll".

although her tone indicates that she was merely joking, you retaliate against her anyway for the way she’s treated you in the past.

“i- you know what?! if you’ve just come to gloat and make me feel like an idiot just go right ahead and fuck off!” you state. causing a vein to pop out of your forehead and your left eye to twitch in pure anger.

“i’m not in the mood for your shit” you restate your previous point.

“y’know? you’re such a pain in my ass. always bitching and complaining about everything, always in the way, you’re unbelievable.”

you pause your movements, surprised at the lengths she’s going to make you feel terrible.

“i think you look weak.” she finishes, smirking as your eyes threaten to spill with tears out of rage.

“you’re such. a. fucking. bitch.” you emphasize the b in the word bitch as you leap off your chair and stomp out of the bar, trudging back to the comfort of your own home.

thieram walks back over to the side of the bar you were just at and his face scrunches in confusion.

“uh… where’d she go?” he questions as he raises his hands, one hand occupied with your drink.

sevika is still sitting with her mech hand pressing into a tight fist on the counter and her human hand tightly squeezing the bridge of her nose.

she makes up her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your apartment, already having memorized where you lay your head at night.

tonight, you’ll learn respect. obedience.

…

you’ve just made it back to your apartment and you’re slamming the door shut. as you pace back and forth from your kitchen to your living room you’re met with complete and utter silence that taunts you.

“how do i let her get to me? every. single. time.” you’re thinking, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid. for letting her see you upset.

you hear a loud knock at the door and you pause all moments, as you make your way to answer it, your thoughts race with ideas of who may be at your doorstep at this time of night.

you open the door and you’re met with none other than the sight of sevika. both of her hands clench into fists at her sides as she gazes at you darkly.

it’s almost eerie, her silence. you sense something in her demeanor that is different than usual. it feels… scary.

you both say nothing as she pushes her way into your home, back turned to you as she stops in her tracks.

“wha- what the fuck? g-get out!” you scream out.

her head cocks over her shoulder, one eye looking back at you in a silent warning.

you slowly back up against the door as she turns her full body around to corner you against it. her stare pierces deep into your soul, you feel as though a knife has been jabbed into your gut.

sevika is a scary woman. you know you stand no chance against her strength. that frightens you slightly but you hold your head up high and maintain eye contact with her to stand your ground.

her hands are placed on either side of your head, pressing into the rough, wooden texture of the door. you hear the wood creaking when she leans in, nose brushing against yours. the silence is deafening.

"hmm..." she cocks her head to the right, still looking deep into your irises.

"sevika, l-let me go. what are you doing?!" you try to reason with her but she is unwavering as she takes her mech hand and trails it dangerously slowly up your body from your thigh to your bare stomach, then your arms.

it lands on your neck and wraps around it loosely as a scare tactic. it works as your eyes widen and your shaky hands come up to move the machine off you.

your legs start to weaken and your eyebrows furrow as your underwear pools with your desire.

"so fuckin' pathetic, you are..." she growls, tightening around your neck, not too tight. but tight enough to where your breath hitches in your throat and you're slightly gasping for air.

"y'know, was gonna try and get along with you tonight, doll."

the pet name makes the wetness in your panties become unbearable.

she continues, "ordered you a drink, cracked a joke 'n everything..."

"but, you're a brat to your core, aren't you? should make you apologize..."

an idea pops into your head, another way to disrespect her. you ponder in your head about how you shouldn't. against your better judgment, you say it anyway.

"make me, then,” your eyes flicker down to her lips.

her cocky expression falters slightly—her eyes threatening to look down at yours as well. and if looks could kill, you would die instantly.

"show me your fuckin' bedroom. now."

you're then peeling yourself off of the door. she takes her hand off your neck and backs up to let you pass. you drag your feet, walking slowly to irritate her further. she doesn't like that one bit.

you feel a hand brush the back of your head and she's harshly pulling you up against her chest by your hair. you feel her warm breath tickling your ear, getting ready to humiliate you even more.

"f-fuck! ow!" you yelp out in pain.

"nuh-uh. hurry the fuck up. move." she whispers into your ear.

sevika lets you go, roughly pushing your head forward to emphasize her point. you decide not to push her as you speed up.

as you enter your room, you let out a shaky breath, scared yet excited about the events about to take place. you're not facing her when you hear your bedroom door slam shut. you stop dead in your tracks.

"what-uhm, what's gonna happen?" you question.

you gasp out in surprise as she spins you around to face her and pushes you onto the bed. your ass rests on the edge of it and you're sitting up straight. sevika towers over you, way taller than usual. she looks like she could devour you as she's undressing you with her eyes.

"gonna hurt you, sweetheart. gonna punish you for being such a mean little brat." she smushes your cheeks together with one hand, causing your saliva to pool from your mouth and wet your lips.

"should've done this ages ago... maybe you'd be better behaved by now."

"p-please. i-'m sorry."

it kills you inside, that you secretly love this. you secretly love the idea of her touching you. punishing you, hurting you until you’re utterly ruined.

you’ve dreamt about this moment in light of all the arguments, yelling, and fighting.

in one swift movement, she stands you back up and takes your place on the bed looking up at you hungrily.

“bend over my knee,” she demands.

you feign disgust, and fear, “wh-what?! n-no i-”

“lay the fuck down, and bend over my knee before i spank your ass raw.”

you obey. she scoots back further on your bed so you can maneuver your way to lay your stomach across her thighs. your upper body and legs rest on the bed as your ass is slightly positioned in the air.

you can’t see her face, but you know sevika’s smirking as she’s finally got you where she wants you.

she coos at you, tugging slightly at the loose shorts you threw on after you got home from the bar, “look at you in these little fuckin’ shorts, so slutty.”

she slides her hand up your outer thigh, moving closer to your ass.

all of a sudden, she pauses her movements.

she leans down, her mouth next to your ear, “we can stop at any time. jus’ let me know, doll.”

your heart clenches at her words, feeling the intense emotion behind them and now knowing deep down that she doesn’t want to actually hurt you.

it turns you on even more.

“want it vika, p-please.”

she lets out a sound that’s of a groan and a growl, “fuck yeah, baby. gonna punish you—gonna make it hurt,”

“gonna take it? gonna be a good girl for me?”

“ye-yes! yes!”

sevika hooks the fingers of her human and mechanical hand under the waist of your shorts and roughly tugs them to the floor.

“fuck… no panties too? my god,” she admires you.

you say nothing as her hand finds its way back to moving up your thigh and finally grips your ass, kneading the plush flesh.

“gonna actually do anything or?…” you get cocky, too impatient to feel her hands on you.

a loud ‘SMACK!’ sounds throughout the ambient space of your bedroom, the pain searing into the skin of your right asscheek, making you scream out into the bedspread.

“fuckin’ brat, like i said.”

you’re met with another ‘SMACK!’ in the same spot. you scream out again except this time, it sounds a hell of a lot more like a moan.

“can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. bein' my little painslut…”

she hits you again, “you like when i hurt you? don’t you, baby?”

“yes!” you’re repeating, face still smushed into the blankets.

“what was that?” she presses further as she tangles her hand into your hair and yanks it upwards.

“f-fuck! yes, yes!”

she spanks you again and again, alternating between each cheek until you’re sobbing.

although she hadn’t spanked you more than 15 times, you felt as though it was 10 times that much.

she’s soon rubbing a soothing hand over the expanse of your ass, attempting to calm the ache in your ass while neglecting the one in your cunt.

“my girl. did so good for me, baby. so, so good.”

she sits you up and props you up next to her. you wince as your ass meets the surface of your bed.

“we’re not done. gonna make this pussy feel so good, i’ve been neglecting her haven’t i?”

“mhm…touch me please.” you’re out of it, eyes lazily gazing into hers.

“suppose i should reward you?”

her hands caress the sides of your neck and she captures your lips in a gentle and passionate kiss.

as her lips meet yours, the world is silent, all you can think of is sevika.

the kiss soon turns sloppier, needier. your tongues clash against one another causing saliva to drip down both of your chins.

it’s disgusting really, the definition of swapping spit.

neither of you seems to care though. you both moan through the kisses, gripping at each other.

she breaks the kiss to tear your shirt off your body.

“such pretty tits… so beautiful.”

you lean in and peck her lips, “want you bad, vika. please just fuck me already,” you beg.

“you’re beggin’ me?”

“yeah,” you respond.

“fuckin’ beggin’ me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, baby,” you respond another time, your bedroom eyes never leaving hers.

this back-and-forth dirty talk makes the both of you so wet, that the need between you increases with each exchange.

“you don’t even realize how much of a whore you sound like when you say that shit, baby."

oh, you know.

“i love it,” she doubles back.

“gonna eat you first, get you ready for my cock.”

you pause.

‘she didn’t… did she?!’ you exclaim in your head, incredibly surprised she brought an entire strap-on to your house.

“mm… back the fuck up, lean up against the headboard.”

you do as she says, spreading your legs for her in the process.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

she kisses down your neck, stomach, and thighs—her mouth now dangerously close to your naked cunt.

“perfect pussy… so pretty and wet.” she blows cold air on it, admiring the way you clench as she does so.

she laughs out loud, “you’re clenching around nothing, baby… you need this dick in you.”

you don’t even notice you’re looking up at the ceiling, you then look down at her between your thighs—you notice her pants are pulled off. her mech hand is gripping her black plastic cock through her boy shorts.

it’s huge. you’re not sure if it can even fit inside you and that makes you crave it more.

you moan at the sight, “mhm! yes! need it in my pussy. wanna cum on it.” you manage out. your brain is mush!

“soon,” she promises.

she suddenly delves into your pussy, tongue experimentally licking around your folds, then your hole, and your clit.

you’re on cloud 9. your cunt twitches with need because you can feel every detail of her mouth dragging along your heat.

your moans are uncontrollable as she’s practically making out with your cunt, her spit drips onto your clean bed as she’s sloppily eating your pussy out.

she’s nasty with it, spitting on it, getting it dripping wet for you to take her.

“fuck! please!! gonna cum!” you yell out.

all of a sudden, you’re met with cold air. and your cunt is met with a thought to be forgotten ‘SMACK!’

you yelp out in pain and pleasure, the mix too overwhelming for your poor pussy to handle.

“you cum when i fuckin’ tell you to. ask me if you can come next time.”

“‘m sorry vika! promise i won't do it a-again.”

“yeah, yeah. turn around.”

you whine at the loss of her mouth on you; it just feels so good. but you listen anyway.

you’re in doggy facing the headband with your back slightly arched as you look back at her behind you.

she lifts her shirt over her head; she has nothing on underneath, giving you a full view of her sculpted abs. you graze them with your fingertips, amazed at how beautiful she is.

“beautiful, gorgeous…” you state to her and your eyes meet hers once again, showing her you mean what you’re saying.

she huffs out in…shyness? she looks down at the bedspread below you two and she tugs down her boy shorts, throwing them next to all of the other clothes that are splayed out on the floor.

“gonna put it inside, alright? gonna make you feel it.”

you look forward and your eyes trace the design of your headboard, anticipating her cock pushing inside of you, anticipating the delicious pain.

she eventually does push the toy inside of you, bottoming out quickly.

she gives you a moment to adjust. you both are breathing heavily and your nimble fingers grip at the sheets, mouth forming into the shape of an o because she’s so fucking deep.

one of her hands comes up to force your face into the pillows. she starts to move her hips slowly.

“fuuuuck, doll. arch that back,” she can feel the slow grind of your hips on her clit as you press back into her and arch slightly.

it’s not enough for her. she presses her other hand into the small of your back to truly get it so she’s as deep as she possibly can go in this position.

“oh my f-fucking god!” you’re moaning into the pillows, still as loud as if you were screaming.

she’s sped up now, her plastic cock digging into you swiftly yet deliberately.

“yeah…arch that shit, gimme that pussy, baby.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re still moaning into the pillow. you can feel every ridge, every detail of her.

your pussy twitches with need, your slick dripping down your thighs, cunt squelching and eyes rolling to the back of your head because of the rough way she’s handling you.

“can feel you around me, i swear. you’re so tight, baby, s-shit…”

she’s bullying your cunt relentlessly and her dirty talk is making you so unbelievably wet.

“you love this dick, don’t you? you love when i fuck this pussy, huh?”

“yes, vika! yes! just like that! love it!”

“say you’re sorry. say you’re sorry for being such a bratty little bitch.”

“hmmph!” you defy her, for fun perhaps.

she slows down tremendously compared to the pace she set before, giving you shallow thrusts to match your attitude.

“say you’re fuckin’ sorry or I’ll make sure this pussy never cums again. you’re only cumming from me, so you’ll do what the fuck i say.”

whew.

“c’mon, baby say you’re sorry so i can give you this dick. gonna make you cream on it so good if you just let go,”

she continues, “i know you want it… know you want it in your guts. know you want my cum in you," she's delirious.

gripping your hip with her free hand and your hair with the other, she lifts your head out of the pillow so she can hear you better.

you cave.

“i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry, baby. i promise i’ll be good! pleeease just fuck me! need you. need your cum…”

she leans down and kisses the small of your back, “see, now how hard was that?!”

she moves her hips at a faster pace than before, seemingly deeper as well. your face has found its way back down, voice muffled into the sheets.

“yeah, baby, take this shit—take it aaaaalll in this fuckin’ pussy. pussy’s so good for me.”

“oh f-fuck, ‘s so deep!” you look back at her once again. her teeth are biting into her bottom lip, hips snapping against your ass as she stares down at you wildly, watching the toy disappear inside of you.

you then meet her eyes, completely cockdrunk. you beg her again, “please v-vika… need your cum in my pussy. need you to knock me up.”

“give it to me, give me your cum! want it deep in me, wan’ it!”

she growls out, “f-fuck shit’s gonna make me cum.”

“fuckin’ pussy is sucking me in, gonna make me get you pregnant, baby,”

her hips are still pistoning into you, the room filling with sloppy wet noises and smacking skin.

“i’m b-begging you to let me cum, p-please!” you’re still looking into her eyes, kindly asking her for permission to soak her faux dick.

“who’s fucking you then? say my name, doll.”

“you, sevika! you!! you’re the only one,”

“fuck yeah, you whore. ‘m the only one that’s gonna be in this shit from now on. that’s right…”

“plea-”

“cum. i want you to cum on this cock, make it yours. cum all over it,” she’s thrusting against your g-spot as deep as she can with one of her legs on the bed and her hands on your hips. you have no choice but to just, take it.

her words cause the coil in your tummy to snap, your orgasm crashing down on you like a brick to your head. like if a large rock were to crush you and kill you instantly. it’s rough, it’s overwhelming.

“fuck!!” you scream through it.

“i’m cummin’ too!! not gonna pull out. i’m gonna put a baby in you, get you nice and full,”

“mhm!! yes!”

the combination of you urging her on and the pressure of her hips and your ass fucking back onto them causes her movements to stutter, “s-shit!”

her orgasm washes over her much like yours, both her hands on your hips making it easier for her cock to kiss your cervix and for her clit to feel it.

you both eventually come down from your highs. sevika pulls out of you and quickly yanks the toy off.

you’re still in the same position so she presses down on your back to get you to rest your body on the comfortable and soft surface of your bed. you’re expecting her to tug her clothes back on and leave, but she doesn’t.

she praises you for the rest of the night, rubs aloe gel on your ass to soothe the welts, and loves on you as if she’d never hated you in the first place.

“you did so good, baby.”

“i’m so proud of you, you’re amazing.”

“you’re so pretty… you’re mine now.”

…

needless to say… she’s ruined you for everyone else. your petty rivalry long forgotten and replaced with the feelings that you’ve both been hiding. and as you’re both waltzing into silco’s office for a second meeting, he’s hoping for but not expecting for there to be a change in your relationship.

he is stunned when he’s met with no more eye rolls, scoffs, and bickering.

‘wonder what’s gotten into the two of them…’ he wonders.

well, something has definitely gotten into you.

…

I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED!! finals are over so i am free from the shackles of college! (for now…)

hope you guys like it! tbh this took me forever because i couldn’t figure out the plot LMFAKOW😭😭

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can you write one where the reader is supposed to executed after Shibuya cause she’s in a relationship with Gojo. I kinda want it to be angsty, but you do what you want with this!

I know you said angsty, but all I can hear is bad bitch (the elders are REALLY angsty though lol)

Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed but kicking ass instead

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...

Warnings: lots of violence, (y/n) takes no shit in this one, language, not proofread yet

This is kinda like a continuation of this fic here

The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor are the only thing that hangs in the air along with that deadly silence – literally.

You aren’t dumb. Of course you know why you’re here. Satoru is sealed, the only jujutsu sorcerer they were always afraid of. And since your husband is gone and nobody knows when or if he’ll return, these old farts seize their opportunity to finally get rid of you, to get rid of Yuji, to get rid of Yaga.

Well, maybe you weren’t exactly kind to them these last years. Yes, you were a pain in the ass yourself, threatening to kill every single one of them more than once. And with your husband, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time, chuckling in the background, they simply had no choice but to hear you out.

Not anymore, though. Not when your husband is sealed in a tiny box with no way out.

You play with a strand of your hair while making your way to the huge door that separates you from them, containing your temper and breathing. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about the fact that they want to execute you. But Yaga, Yuji…There’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen, no way you’ll let them kill you this easily.

“You have some fucking nerve, calling me here after our last meeting. Didn’t I told you urgent enough what happens when you threaten my students?”

Confidently, you position yourself in the middle of the circled room, glaring right through their dark figures with your death stare.

“As if it’s not enough that I lost my husband in Shibuya while, if you even care about that minor detail, we all tried to save everyone in Japan from certain death. You know what would have happened if we didn’t fight until the very end, right? You know that we did all of this for the innocent people out there, right?”

Tame down your beating heart, your rushing blood. If you get angry, you might lose it all. And while Satoru supports you no matter what you do, you don’t want Yuji to look at you with those innocent disappointed eyes. No, you aren’t here to kill every single one of them.

But if one wrong word leaves their mouths, one word of disrespect against your beloved husband…

“You will be executed, (y/n) Gojo.”

You can’t contain a disrespectful huff. You, executed by those old farts? That you don’t laugh, that you don’t slaughter all of them on the spot.

“While you sat here on your old asses, my husband, I and countless others were out there fighting bravely for stranger’s life’s. Who are you to judge over mine? Who do you think you are to even consider you’d be able to take my life from me?”

Your threatful eyes seem to glow in the dark, hands clenched into fists so tightly that your own blood spills onto the marble ground.

“But all you care about is supremacy, isn’t it? Masamichi’s formula for creating independent cursed corpses, my infinite powers…You give zero fucks about the jujutsu sorcerers out there. All you care about is your puny selves”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Shut your mouth. You are no threat to us.”

Did you hear that correctly? That man sitting to your right didn’t just raise his voice at you, didn’t just say that you can’t hold a candle against them. Them, a room full of old farts. Them, who are too afraid to even fight. Them, who hide in this stinky room in order to protect themselves.

“Am I not?”, you mutter.

Within the blink of an eye, you throw one of your poisoned needles towards him, hitting his shoulder just how you wanted. Immediately the tension in the room is thick enough to get sliced, all elders springing up immediately.

“Come on, attack me, kill me if you dare. I couldn’t care less. Never forget that you are talking to me, (y/n) Gojo. There is a reason why Satoru married me and it certainly wasn’t to protect me.”

Oh, how much you miss him. What you would do to have Satoru back on your side.

“You are nothing without Satoru Gojo!”

“Look who’s there, the woman who just threatened the higher ups of Jujutsu High all on her own. Did you really choke that man?”

Your husband grinned at you widely, his blindfold already taken off. You simply shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him.

“Apparently I was able to convince them somehow. Come on, we should get going. I hope all of them are alright…”

God, how much you long for his tender touch, how much you’d do for him standing right by your side right now. Not to handle the situation for you, but to know you’re not alone.

Are you alone, though? Your husband might be sealed, but he isn’t dead, let alone gone. He’s still somewhere out there and thinks about you, still supports you from where ever he is. No, with Satoru as your beloved husband, you’ll never truly be alone.

“I am enough to make sure none of you will ever see the daylight again if you insist on this path. If you hurt Yuji Itadori-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. All of the sudden chains fly your way, trap you right in the middle of the room in the matter of seconds. For a brief moment your senses fail you, darkness summons you like a veil. Is this your end? Are they really able to bring you down this easily? You simply can’t die like that, not through their dirty hands, not when you weren’t able to say goodbye to your husband.

Your trembling breath hangs in the air, cursed metal digs into your tender flesh. Satoru…His face appears before your inner eye.

“Hey, you aren’t giving up now, aren’t ya? You’re just getting started, babe!”

You are better than them, stronger than them, braver than them. You huff to yourself, thick fear and power starts pumping through your veins. Fall seven times, stand up eight.

“Let’s get the party started.”

Their puny chains tear like threat under the sheer force of your bare arms, setting you free like a bird.

“See this as your final warning.”

Your fists discolour the room in deadly crimson, lighten up their scared faces.

“If you ever touch me or my students again.”

Fire runs through the room like a storm, lights them up, lets their flesh melt away like butter.

“I will kill every single one of you without blinking. Every. Single. One.”

Their desperate screams fill you with satisfaction while you keep going, shooting your poisoned needles their way, letting each one of them collapse underneath the weight of their sins.

“I kindly advise you to never mess with any member of the Gojo clan. Even though I’m not my husband, I’m definitely strong enough to end every life in this room if you keep threatening my students, friends and myself. If you ever dare to call me again…”

You snap, sending another wave of cursed fire their way.

“Well, maybe not do that. Now excuse me, I have to look after my students and figure out how to free my husband. See you never again.”

With one last satisfied grin, you turn on your heels and walk out, closing the door behind you for what you hope forever.

Was this the right thing to do? Did you cross a line you shouldn’t have crossed? Maybe you put Yuji in even more danger, maybe Masamichi still gets executed.

No.

Stop your train of thoughts.

This is not the right time to doubt yourself. They want to execute you, want to wipe you from this earth without a trace?

“That I don’t laugh…”, you mutter to yourself.

“There you are, Gojo-sensei! I was looking for you!”

A gentle smile creeps up your face and makes you forget about what just happened immediately.

“Hey, how are you feeling today, Yuji? Did Shoko treat your wounds?”, you question, gently wrapping your arm around the pink-haired boy who went to hell and back.

“I was thinking about a way to free Gojo-sensei and I’d love to try it with you! Oh, your uniform is a little burned. Are you alright?”

His eyes dart all over your body worried while you can’t fight a wide grin any longer.

“That? Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Come on, show me what you’ve find out.”

Bonus:

“Can you imagine? They called me to literally execute me. Wanna know what I did?”

“You bet I do…”, Satoru mumbles to himself on top of a pile of bones.

“I kinda burned them to the ground. But don’t worry, I am almost certain they survived. Hopefully they’ll leave Yuji, Masamichi an me alone now. But I think that could have consequences, so maybe move your ass out of that cube a little faster”, you bubble.

Satoru lets out a heartfelt laugh. So you really threatened the elders again? No wonder he married you, that force of a woman.

“I’ll come back to you babe. And then we’ll  both kick their asses together.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Les - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: just listen to the song you’ll understand it

Warnings: EmotionallyUnavailable!Chris!, cursing, angsty-ish, Use of Y/N, crying, unestablished relationship, mentions of sexual acts

A/N: I absolutely love anything to do with childish Gambino so thanks for this request!! If you squint you can see some lyrics from Diet mtn dew from Lana del Rey in here lol ! PLOT TWIST AT THE END?!?!?!

PSA: DONT USE MY WORK FOR ISPARATION OR ANYTHING ELSE I WROTE THIS!! get creative

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chris and i’s relationship wasn't the most ideal relationship. When we met we had both just gotten out of a long-term relationship and weren't looking for anything serious, so we made a mutual agreement to just ‘fuck around and find out’ type of relationship, but that was 2 years ago. He fucks other girls, but I hardly ever fuck anyone besides him, no one can ever make me feel as good as he does, and vice versa, because at the end of the day, I’m still the one he calls when he can’t ‘get off’ from someone else. No one knew or knows were just fuck buddies, to the outside eye, were just really good friends.

𝜗𝜚 Small flashback 𝜗𝜚

Chris had his hand around my throat in the hallway of this house party we were at, his lips explored my mouth making their way to my jaw and leaving little blueish marks on my neck.

“I hope nobody catches us” i whisper seductively with a big smirk on my face.

“But I kinda hope they catch us,” he says lifting his head with a cheeky smile on his face before placing a small kiss on my lips.

𝜗𝜚 End of flashback 𝜗𝜚

I knew the second I realized I was catching feelings for him I was fucked. I only wanted him, I could care less about any other guy if I’m being honest every time I fucked another guy I always thought about Chris, imagined his voice, his hands, and the way they traveled my body, his lips on my skin. I needed him so fucking badly.

I’m laying in bed staring at my ceiling debating whether to go to sleep or go see Chris. I needed to know if I needed to move on from him and the euphoric hold he had on me or if he actually wanted something from me.

Y/N

R u busy?

Chris?

I was debating whether to invite Kristi over but if you wanna come over feel free to 😏

Y/N

I just wanted to talk, Chris

Chris?

Doors open ma

Fuck.. Was I making a mistake? Should I turn around? This was a bad idea, I always lie to myself escaping from the fact I am in love with him. I get the courage to finally drive out of my driveway and make my way to Chris’ house for the majority of the drive, out of nervousness biting my fingernails and blasting music. What was he gonna say? What was he gonna do? Does he like me? Does he only wanna fuck me?

As I park my car in front of the triplet's house, I take a deep breath and slowly make my way up to the door. After a moment of hesitation, I open it and step inside, greeted by the familiar scent of attempted baked cookies for their YouTube channel. I climb the stairs and find Nick and Matt sitting on the couch, their phones in their hands as they laugh heartily at funny TikTok videos. The room is filled with the sound of their laughter and the glow of the screen illuminating their faces.

“Oh hey Y/N i didn't know you were coming over” nick says greeting me with a smile.

“I just came to talk to Chris, he said something about an idea he had for his personal YouTube channel and needed a ‘feminine’ touch to it” I lie laughing softly.

“Oh yeah good luck with that, kids hopeless for that channel” matt jokes smiling up at me from the couch.

With a gentle smile on my face, I make my way down the hallway towards Chris' room. As I approach his door, I raise my hand and knock softly before waiting for his response. Once I receive permission, I slowly push the door open and step inside.

“Hey ma” he smiles jumping up out of his bed and greeting me with a tight embrace with his arms around my waist pulling me into his chest before pulling away “So what'd you wanna talk about?” he continues before patting down next to him on the bed.

“Um, so I've been thinking recently, well not recently, a lot actually” I start looking down at my hands spinning my ring around on my middle finger. “Fuck it I'm just gonna go for it, I like you a lot Chris, like I know we're just friends with hidden benefits, and I know you're fucking other people, I've barely fucked anyone, and when I do I'm always thinking about you, and you just have this majestic euphoric hold over me and I can't fucking take not knowing how you feel about me any longer,” I say passionately standing up and looking at Chris and his facial expression isn't what I hoped.

“Listen Y/N,” he says standing up and grabbing my hand as if he is trying to let me down softly “You're an amazing person, you've got the best personality, and you're fucking amazing in bed” he chuckles to himself “I wanna try, but I'm in an awful guy, and I'm always away, basically what I'm trying to say is I'm a piece of shit,” he says looking deeply into my eyes.

“Chris..” I start swallowing the lump in my throat.

“No no, don't, I'm just not ready for anything serious, and if I was I would go straight to you,” he says in an attempt to make things better but fails immediately.

The tears start forming in the corners of my eyes “You're not good for me,” I say looking up at him as his hands cup my cheeks “But, Chris, baby, I want you, all of you, I can fix you,” my bottom lip goes between my teeth as a singular tear falls from my left eye. His thumb immediately wipes away the tear.

“Y/N, I'm sorry, you can't change my mind, as much as I am deeply attached to everything about you, head to toe, I can’t handle a relationship,” he says as his voice softens.

“Chris it’s been 2 years, we got out of a relationship at the same time, I'm completely over it, how much longer do I have to wait for you to be over it” my voice cracks as another tear falls down my face

“No one asking you to wait, Y/N, if you want to be in a relationship I'm sure there gonna be a guy out there that'll love and care for you,” he says backing away and sitting down on his bed.

“Chris that's the problem, I don't want anyone but you, YOU Christopher, just you” I sniffle out.

“I'm not really sure what to tell you, Y/N, I've spoken my peace, either you can agree to it, or not, cause to me I'm perfectly fine just fucking around,” he says almost unbothered at the face in standing in front of him pouring my heart out just for him destroy it.

I press my lips together and nod “Well if you change your mind, or come to your senses about these gold digger fuckers you bringing over to your damn house please feel free to contact me, if not, don't contact me” I say walking out slamming his door causing an array of stares from nick and matt.

“Everything okay?” matt quickly says as he notices the tears start to form in my eyes.

I take a deep breath “No but I'll be alright eventually but I'm not sure how much of me you'll be seeing around anymore” i say quickly wiping away the tear before it falls.

“Woah woah hold the fucking phone” Nick exclaims standing up and making his way toward me before bringing me into a fight embrace.

The immediate tears start flooding out of me as nick hugs me, which sends matt into a panic and immediately coming over to join the hug.

“So what happened” Matt says pulling away

“I told your brother i had feelings for him and he just acted insensitive” i sniffle out.

“You like Chris?” Nick says shockingly.

“I thought I did” I shrugged “but obviously he's not ‘ready’ for a relationship and apparently if I'm ready for a relationship then I should be in one but he wasn't really understanding I only wanted him” I dab away at my eyes which had tears forming in them.

“Kids an asshole, don't listen to him, he'll eventually figure out what he lost eventually,” Matt says almost unsure. “There's always any other single Sturinolo,” Matt says under his breath.

“What was that?” I say looking towards Matt.

“Uh nothing nothing, it doesn't matter,” he says nervously laughing and scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I better get going it's late anyway” i say giving my last hugs.

“Let me walk you out,” matt says grabbing my shoulder and leading me out the door.

“I can walk myself out matt” i smile up at him.

“Yesh I know but it'd be worth pissing off Chris if he saw me walking you out” Matt says smirking down as we make it to my car.

“Thank you matt” i wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a hug as his arms tightly go around my waist pulling me closer.

As we embraced each other tightly, I couldn't help but glance up toward Chris' window and notice a pair of striking blue eyes glaring down at us. The little eyes were filled with anger and disapproval, as if they were witnessing something they shouldn't. Matt was still holding me in his arms, grinning from ear to ear, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that we were being watched. Despite the warmth of the hug, I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy under the watchful gaze of those piercing blue eyes.

“Thank you matt” i say pulling away and opening the door to my car and adjusting myself in the driver seat.

“Anytime” he smiles back at me closing my driver-side door and walking back into the house.

Maybe messing around with Matt wouldn't be a bad idea, after all, Chris did say anyone would be lucky, but never said who…

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[i-cant-sing]

Maybe a dancer reader with your ocs, like they want to still be on stage and fight about it with your oc because they sacrificed a lot to get there and don’t want to waste it. Like how would they react would they let the darling dance on stage with limited audience or?

Hmm, here's how I think it'll go:

Eros:

He wouldnt ever stop you from enjoying life, and he loves watching you dance. Its so graceful, the way your body moves, the emotions youre expressing, its all- so impressive. Eros 100% ditches his duty at the hospital, dresses up super nice to go to the theatre where you're performing, and of course he has the best seat near the stage so you could see your no.1 hype man cheering you on. He is so proudly telling anyone and everyone that "thats my girl!" "I'm dating her! Gosh, I'm lucked out!"

Dimitri:

Probably has a theatre/stage built in his mansion for you to perform in, and the audience will be him and his men. They're all there to clap and cheer you on, but in a very careful way so as to not make Dimitri think they're attracted to you, just admiring your dance.

Its kinda weird watching all these buffed up, tattooed criminals getting front seat to your little hobby and they're all looking at you in complete awe, giving you 7 minute standing ovation, hooting as their boss gets on stage and spins you in his arms before dipping you as he gives you a passionate kiss. Ah yes, Dimitri is also a skilled dancer, though you'll now have to waltz with him for the world.

Magnus:

Guess who brings the entire cult to the show? Its crazy lover boy Magnus! You didnt want to dance, but Magnus knew about your secret hobby and he insisted that you dance for him. You turned him down, of course because you hate him, but then a little threat from the cult to pull your intestines out to hang dry, you were all game <3

At the end of your dance, he's on his knees, along with his cult, and is praising the Lord for giving him such a perfect partner.

Theodore:

You're probably still in the dark about Theo being a spy/assassin, so you dont know that the reason the entire theatre is empty except for him is because Theo used his spy agency to book out the theatre completely for "mission purposes", and you just think that nobody else showed up :( You also dont know that Theo has some guys stationed outside the theatre to knock out/shoot anyone who tries to come in.

But hey, at least your deaf bf is all supportive as he claps and gives you nods of approval at the end of your performance, as well as a big bouquet and teddy bear.

Halim Mehmat Shah:

My man, my himbo bf, he brings his entire family and his bestie Mahir to the show because um of course, this will also be your family soon when you two get married (you're not even dating him atm) so why wouldnt they come to support you????

He's cheering, he's clapping, his family has these proud beaming smiles and they all join you backstage to tell you how amazing you are and you just feel a little weird at how Halim's family, especially his parents are looking at you with such pride- your own family has never looked at you so fondly. Of course, the parents made you take pictures with Halim (and Mahir was also dragged into these photos because he's their angsty adoptive son lol).

Later, you find out that almost all the people who attended the show were connected to the Shah family somehow, and they bought tickets for everyone.

Mahir Jahangir:

He'll look up from his pile of papers, silent as you whine about wanting to dance at the theatre downtown. Mahir knows that you're an exceptionally good dancer, but he doesnt know how to explain to you that he'd much rather burn the world to the ground than let any man look at you like that.

And since he doesnt wanna sound like an insane, jealous s/o, he agrees, giving you a nod to go ahead before picking up his phone to tell his secretary to cater to your requests.

When the day of the show comes, the curtains open and all you see is Mahir and his mom sitting in the front row. They're the only audience, and Mahir's mom is ever so cheerful throughout your performance while Mahir has a soft smile, pride and awe shining in his eyes. Of course, only at the end of the show does Mahir finally clap, giving you a standing ovation as he does so. All his moves, his claps, his praise, they're all calculated, no filler words or actions that dont hold significance are used.

His mother is going on and on about how much she enjoyed the performance, while Mahir is silently waiting for his moment to tell you that he just bought the theatre and is gifting it to you <3

Baldwin:

No.1 cheerleader, has the ballroom booked for you. You'd think he'd have the ballroom empty so that he could get a private show, but no. He has his court in there, praising and clapping at how well you dance, except they're all wearing blindfolds because again- Baldwin doesnt want them to see how well his "angel" dances.

"We can feel how well you dance, your Majesty!" They say to you, but you know by now that they're all just crazy.

What you dont expect is Baldwin to get up and join you mid performance, pulling you close by the waist as he leads your body, waltzing through the entire ballroom with such finesse.

[orshii]

The Night We Met (forget me not)

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, blood, lots of angst

Word count: 8,7 k

Trope: strangers to lovers

Summary: Kim Hongjoong lived anything but a normal life, his enigmatic presence shrouded in mystery. You were drawn to him when you met him on a strange, rainy night, soaked and with nowhere to go. Despite his guarded nature, a connection formed between you, fueled by curiosity and the allure of the unknown. What will happen when one night he comes home bleeding? Will you unravel the truth behind Hongjoong's enigmatic existence, or will the dangers lurking in the shadows consume you both?

A/N: Since I am very obsessed with red-haired Hongjoong because, he killed me at Coachella bfr, I just felt the urge to write something with him, so this happened. It ended up a little angsty, sorry not sorry, I love writing angst tbh lol. So enjoy the ride, I guess. xoxo, orshii. (also, sorry if there are mistakes :'( ) (divider) horanghae tho

The swaying bodies around me tortured me, I felt like I couldn't breathe as all I could see was him, speaking, and shouting over the loud music, that made my heart break with every strong beat. I couldn't hear the music, all I could hear was the words that came out of his mouth. 'You are sick', 'I'm tired of your shit', 'You'll never be good enough' and it went on and on, these words were the only thing I could hear, I breathed them in and it went straight into my heart, breaking it into thousands of pieces, as nothing remained there only little powerless specks of dust.

He kept on going, glaring at me like I was a wet stray dog on the street. His eyes were full of hatred, the man with whom I fell in love, made me feel special and made me feel good enough, now did the whole opposite of these things, and made me believe I was a fucking nobody. After a little time, as he still spat the most hurtful words out of his mouth, I could see everything in slow motion, the way he spoke and he was angrily shouting at me, his spit landing on my face as he spoke, the dancing bodies around us pushing closer to him, even tho I wanted the opposite. No one really noticed that I was on the verge of breaking down right there, as I barely could breathe. My brain closed him out, I was just staring at him and wondered, where that sweet guy that I fell in love with had gone. Suddenly I felt empty, nothing was on my mind, all I knew was that I wanted to disappear from the world, especially I wanted to get away from him as far as possible. So, whilst he was speaking, suddenly I turned my back without a word and started to somehow push myself out from the bodies that surrounded me.

 I felt weak as I bumped into random people, they pushed me from left to right as I barely had any strength. It felt like ages until somehow I could fight myself through the strange bodies. I stepped out of the club into the cold night. I was just standing in front of the exit and closed my eyes shut, I just needed some fresh air, but it couldn't reach my lungs for some reason.

Suddenly I felt something wet and cold landing on my face, followed by a lot of cold drops. I opened my eyes and looked up at the sky, as it started to rain very strongly, immediately wetting my face, and my hair as I suddenly could breathe. It felt like the rain was caressing my face, that felt like invisible hands, cupping my cheeks, wetting my lips, the wet drops dropping down to my chest that melted right into my heart, giving some reassuring feeling. I closed my eyes again holding my head up against the sky, letting the raindrops wet my brain as it kind of brought me back to life and made me realize what just happened, I breathed in as I felt the cold air getting into my lungs slowly, making my body tremble.

That was the exact moment when I broke down. I couldn't hold it any longer, as all the emotions that I cut off when I was in front of him, not letting him see me break, now shuttered into pieces, my breathing got heavy, as I hunched over my knees, and tears suddenly blinding me as I was staring at the wet ground. I was sobbing, tears fell into the wet ground disappearing like it wasn't even there, now I looked like a wet stray dog, that had nowhere to go.

"Everything's alright?" Suddenly I heard a strange voice behind me. After a few deep breaths I tried to calm down, I straightened up and turned around. Just to see a man leaning against the club's brick wall, one of his legs propped on the wall. His clothes were soaked just like mine, as he was holding a cigarette between his thin pierced lips, which were long burned out from the rain, his wet hair that strangely looked like the shade of a deep red that looked like fresh blood, his wet hair would've fallen into his forehead if it wasn't for the black sunglasses that were pushed up to the top of his head, making his forehead free from his hair. He looked at me curiously, eyeing me up and down with a look I couldn't entirely read. Maybe he seemed a little concerned. But that thought immediately made me forget that, when I saw the confident smirk on his face. Just another asshole in this world, that looked at me like I was a nobody.

"Yeah," I said after what felt like an eternity, somehow I almost forgot why I was standing in the rain and cried myself almost to death. I locked my eyes with him, he really didn't seem bothered by the rain pouring at us unstoppably. I wasn't in the mood to chit-chat with a stranger so I turned to get the hell out of there. I did not know where I could go, but I knew that I needed to go somewhere, far away from here.

"It didn't seem like it, sweetheart." He shouted after me, his voice melting with the rain that was falling on us.

"It's none of your business." I turned around to look at him as I shrugged.

Then he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards me, throwing the wet cigarette to the wet floor. I barely saw him because of the rain, but as he closed the distance suddenly all I could see was his face being close to mine. I could see as raindrops dropped from his hair, the water on his veiny neck flew down in red strings, as I assume he died his hair red recently, the wet drops fell from his thin lips as he looked down at me.

"My heart can't take as little girls like you cry in the rain." He slowly reached his hand towards my head and tugged my hair behind my ear. My eyes unconsciously fell on his pierced lips that were so close to mine, that if I had leaned in a little, it could meet his.

I snapped his hands away from my face, and my sanity came back, I couldn't believe there weren't any normal people on earth that couldn't deal with their fucking problems.

He chuckled at my movement. "Why are you so mean, sweetheart?" His smirk still did not disappear.

"Do I look like someone who would let a stranger touch me? And don't call me sweetheart!” I said to him getting angrier. “Oh my God, what did I do to the world." I cried out in disbelief looking up to the sky. I was so soaked, but at that point, I didn’t really feel that I was all wet.

Then suddenly I was sitting in the stranger's car, -whose name was Hongjoong apparently- all soaked, wetting the luxurious car's seating, which was a beautiful raven-black Maserati. I looked at my left side, Hongjoong's side profile on the sight, his undercut showing with the sunglass still being pushed back, which highlighted his sharp jawline. The dye on his neck now dried leaving red marks there. He was a very handsome and apparently a rich stranger. I have no idea why was I even in his car, as we were heading toward his apartment. Because I had nowhere to go.

Long story short, I kind of told him everything about what happened on this tragic night with my life. My ex dumped me because he thought I was cheating on him, the reality was that he was cheating on me and he just blamed it all on me, saying I was the problem as I couldn't keep him excited so he needed to try if someone else could. What kind of bullshit is that?

I was living with him, my parents were far away on another continent, I moved here because of my, well, now ex, and started to work at a random café, just so that I could start a painting course, as my biggest dream to achieve was to be a known painter. I wanted to organize exhibitions where I could put my paintings out, to show them to the world, to show my emotions through the paintings, so other people might feel the same, and share common feelings.

Painting was the only thing that understood me. When I was painting I felt like it was my therapy, the way I traced the brush on the canvas, with different kinds of colors. I always painted my emotions on the white canvas, which in the end, always ended dark, full of black and red colors. As those were the representations of my emotions. I felt pain, just as the word painting symbolized my whole being. But there were times, very rarely, when I painted a whole rainbow on the canvas, as something good happened that day. It was always personal, I wasn't the kind of person, who painted lands and random vases with fruits next to them. I just painted what I felt, it always came out like a mess, like chaos, but there was something beautiful in it, something special.

I always felt vulnerable when I showed it to people, but in the end, it's only me who knows what it is about. People only see random colors and shapes, that are a little grotesque, some of them are amazed by, how artistic it is, but some of them are just looking at it frowning, as they only see a splash of colors, saying 'I could do that easily, it's only a bunch of colors poured right there'. It is hurtful hearing things like that when it's my emotions that are painted there in a physical form. But I think it is only you, yourself, who can understand the struggles you are going through.

So as I was dumped by my ex, I remained alone. I was kind of new in the town and I didn't know anyone besides him and a bunch of his ass friends. I had nowhere to go, as I didn’t want to see his face anymore.

Hongjoong…kind of made me tell him these things, and he offered I can stay at his place, while I figure out what can I do in the future. The rain stopped after a while as we sat in his car and I told him all these things like I had known him for ages, he was listening to me and I could see on his face he cared for some questionable reasons. I had no idea why he offered this in the first place, and I had no idea why the hell did I agree. Even tho he seemed like an asshole for the first seeing, when he genuinely asked me what was the problem, I kind of felt like I can tell him anything I want and I kind of blame it on my fucked up day and on the fact that I was tired, I was tired of people, whom I always wanted to be good enough, but I just failed all the time. And now, it seemed I could trust in a stranger more than everybody.

As soon as we arrived at his apartment, which was a penthouse, my jaw was on the floor when I looked around. Everything was luxurious, most of the furniture was surprisingly black, with a hint of dark red, just like his car and his hair. It really did suit him. I had no idea who this man was, but I am sure he was rich as hell.

After Hongjoong showed me the guest room and gave me clothes that I could change into, he left me alone so I could shower. In the bathroom, I still couldn’t comprehend where I was and what exactly happened. It only came in a big flow when I managed to lay down into the big king-sized bed, that was so soft I felt like I was going to disappear into it.

I was laying on my right side and hugged my knees to my chest, just so I could hug something, something that gave me enough comfort, whispering to myself everything is going to be alright, as I finally managed to fall asleep with tears flowing down my face.

The next few weeks went by just like seconds, my only escape was work and painting as it mostly occupied my mind. Hoshi, my ex, tried to talk to me a few times after work when I was closing up, but Hongjoong always came to pick me up, after the first time he heard my ex was there.

It was really odd, the way he was acting, acting like he wanted to protect me from the world, even tho he didn't know me. And I didn't know him either, but as we spent these few days together, we kind of grew closer to each other, I felt like he became a person whom I could rely on.

I needed to figure out what to do next, because I did not want to bother Hongjoong with my poor ass, living in his penthouse like a princess, as he did not accept any money for the rent. Even tho I barely had money, I still wanted to make it up to him, so instead of money, I decided to clean the flat when I had the time and to cook for him some delicious meals, like a freaking maid, but quid pro quo.

I'm not going to say that Hongjoong didn’t act suspiciously from time to time. Because that would be a lie. The times when he suddenly came into the apartment with blood on his face and slight stabs on his body, painting his body red here and there, made me realize he was into some dangerous games. Luckily I learned how to stitch wounds when I was in high school, as back then I wanted to be a doctor, not until I found painting.

It was again a rainy dark night when the front door closed with a loud thump. I ran out to the living room, where the storm outside lightened it up in slow-motion, just to see a collapsed Hongjoong on the floor. The white carpet under him was now full of blood, that looked like the color of his hair. My heart started to race, as I hurried next to him.

"Hongjoong!" I kneeled next to him, just to cup his face and check his heartbeat. It was still beating but very weekly. I was so scared he might die in my arms.

"Sweetheart" He mumbled faintly, reaching his hands to my wrists that held his face. He was looking up at me with desperate eyes, almost begging me to save him.

He did come back with some stitches here and there, but this was much deeper. As I slowly reached my hands towards his wet white T-shirt that was mixed with rain and blood, I lifted it very slowly, he winced at that painfully.

I let out a quiet gasp when I saw the wound, it was a bullet lodging into his abdomen. Tears started to flow down my face, as I tried to think, about what to do now.

"I'm going to call an ambulance!" I wanted to stand up, to get my phone, but Hongjoong suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"You can't, you have to do it yourself, sweetheart." His voice still came out weak, like he was breathing his last breaths.

"But the bullet is too deep, I can't-" I started to breathe heavily, as I ran my fingers through my hair, squeezing it, as I started to panic. His life depended on me. "I can't do this Hongjoong." I sobbed.

"Come here." As I leaned closer to him, he caressed my cheeks, wiped my tears away with his weak thumb, and looked at me like he had given his life into my hands, and that was literally the case. "You can do it, I trust you, sweetheart." He whispered, weekly, as his hand suddenly dropped to the floor weekly and his eyes closed.

He was unconscious. I needed to put myself together and save the life of the man who saved mine.

The next hours were full of me trying to get the bullet out somehow, I needed every kind of knowledge I learned in the past. Everything was full of blood, the carpet, my hands, my clothes, but all I could concentrate on was to clean the wound, get the bullet out, stitch it carefully, and hope that he did not die. After I finished and his heart was still beating somehow I felt relief going through my body. His body just needed some rest, so it could function again.

When I cleaned up and somehow with all my strength, I managed to lift him to the grey couch and put a warm blanket on him, as he was sweating like crazy because he had a fever. I kneeled next to the couch pressing a wet cloth to his forehead hoping his fever was going to drop. He was fighting for his life and I was praying he could make it alive, as I finally gave in to the dark that swallowed me completely.

I was dreaming of some dark figures that were chasing after me, and then I suddenly found myself on a field, where I saw a red-haired man's back facing me, he was standing between the colorful flowers. Then he suddenly turned and I saw Hongjoong's beautiful smile as he was calling me to follow him.

I felt as if someone pushed me weakly, a voice calling me. Sweetheart. Only one person calls me like that. I quickly came to my senses and lifted my head from the couch I was still kneeling beside it, my limbs numb I barely could move, but the only person that mattered was Hongjoong.

"Hey," I smiled at the survivor, as he was looking at me weekly, his mouth dry.

"Hi", his lips cornered up with a weak attempt.

"How are you feeling?" I scooted upper, so I could caress his face with my thumb.

"Better." He whispered, with a dry throat. As I noticed, I quickly went to pour water into a glass and took some painkillers to give it to him.

"Here, drink some." I slowly helped him up as he was wincing from the pain. I reached the pills to his mouth waiting for him to open it and then the glass so he could drink. After a few gulps from the water, he closed his eyes.

"Thank you, Y/N! You saved my life, I knew you could do it." He slowly opened his eyes and looked at me gratefully.

"Even tho, it was a very bad call from you…You could've died Hongjoong…" Tears started to appear in my eyes as I looked down at my hands.

"But I'm alive…thanks to you, sweetheart. Come here." He took my hands and slowly pulled me closer to him, as he laid down, leaving space for me beside him.

"I don’t want to hurt you." I hesitated a little.

"You won’t hurt me." His thumb traced my cheek and looked at me with affectionate eyes. At that I slowly laid next to him on my side, trying not to be too close to his wound. I was looking at him, and as he did the same, I saw his eyelids were closing, but he forced them open, so he could pull me closer to him by my waist. His face was inches apart from mine. I felt his hot breath on my lips, as he slowly ghosted over mine.

"Kiss me so I won't feel the pain." He whispered the words into my lips, his lips almost touching mine, I could feel his cold piercing on his lips. My heart was racing like crazy. Suddenly all my thoughts were gone, gone into the cold rainy night, as he pressed his lips against mine weekly, giving me control, so I could lead him out of the pain and he wouldn't feel anything. All I wanted to do was to take his pain away, to swallow it, so I could feel it instead of him. My lips moved against his slowly, very patiently, making him forget that he was in pain. He grabbed my waist and pulled me even closer to him, with his remaining strength. But he moaned into my lips from the pain that the movement caused. I wanted to separate from him to make sure he was okay. But he did not let me, he reached his hands to my nape and pulled me closer, suddenly getting some strength from who knows where, as I let him control the kiss again. It started to get more heated, as I separated from him, because of the lack of oxygen.

I looked at him like I couldn't believe he was right there, in pain but still kissing me.

"Sleep now, honey." I whispered at his lips, pecking them again, then moving to his sharp cheekbone, to his nose, then lastly I left feather-like kisses on his eyelids that were already closed, falling into a deep healing sleep.

After a few days of nursing Hongjoong, I was heading back from the grocery store to Hongjoong's apartment. His wound was healing perfectly, it just needed a little more time. He was only able to walk from his room to the balcony to smoke a pack of cigarettes. I asked a lot of times, what had happened, and who did that to him, but he always ignored me or changed the topic. After all, I was just a stranger to him, and he took me in because I was all soaked and I had nowhere to go. Even tho we kissed, that seemed like a fever dream.

But still, he was so protective of me, he did not let me go anywhere alone, and his friends lifted me to work and back, I didn’t even have the opportunity to paint as the painting courses were late at night, and he did not let me outside for some weird reason. He even insisted he was coming with me to the store that was just a few blocks away from his apartment, but I convinced him that it wasn't that far and I was going to be quick.

I was only one block away from the penthouse when suddenly all I could feel was cold hands around my throat and something cold being pressed against my temple. My back was pushed against a wall with an impact, I saw black points as I closed my eyes.

"Where is Captain?" The man who pressed me against the wall forcefully hissed through his yellow teeth.

His hand squeezed my throat with more force. Even if I wanted to talk, words just couldn't leave my mouth as the air was knocked out of my lungs, and my sight started to blur.

"I asked, where is Captain? I am sure you know it, little slut." He shouted at my face, spit landing on my face, as I closed my eyes, trying to scrape his hand off my throat. He pressed the cold thing harder against my temple, it was a gun. I didn't know who Captain was, but I had a very little clue, of who it could be.

The man was on the verge of hitting me with the handle of the gun when suddenly I felt the air getting into my lungs as the man was pushed off me. I hunched over trying to get some air into my lungs as I desperately needed it. My throat felt soar, my heart was pumping like it wanted to jump out from my chest, and I felt the urge to take my hands to my chest just to prevent it from jumping out. I couldn't catch up with the noises that were around me, some shouting and groaning noises that screamed pain. Then suddenly silence came. I slowly straightened up as I finally came to my senses, and tried to get what was happening. I didn't even realize the fact that a gun was pressed against my head, I didn't even realize I could've died. Our mind is a tricky thing, sometimes it is helpful, and sometimes it's our biggest enemy. But for my luck, as I straightened, I saw Yunho in front of me, one of Hongjoong's friends, who picked me up from work a few times. He was a tall, black-haired man, with a well-defined body, who looked intimidating at first, but after a few times as we always chatted the way home, it turned out, he was the sweetest guy ever, full of golden retriever energy.

"Are you okay?" Yunho came closer to me and carefully put his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with concerned eyes. That was the time when I looked down at his hands, that was all bloody, his knuckles full with stitches, then I averted my gaze to his face, which was all beaten up, his lips also bleeding, a cut on his cheekbone. Then I looked down next to us, where four men were laying unconscious, it was a slow process until I somehow put the puzzle together. He knocked out four men with his bare hands only.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I said quietly, my mind full of questions. "Who were they? They asked about someone called… Captain? Is that Hongjoong?"

Yunho's eyes were full of pity. "I'm sorry, Y/N, it isn’t me who should tell you these things." He turned around and went to his black Jeep, which was hurriedly parked on the sidewalk. "Let's get you back to Hongjoong." He said tilting his head a little.

I went to the car and sat in the passenger seat. "How did you know I was in trouble?" My voice felt sour a little, as I still felt the hand around my throat.

"Hongjoong told me to follow you, in case something would happen." He said, not even daring to look at me.

I scoffed at that and remained silent. I didn't know what the hell was happening. Is it normal to send someone so he can watch over you? Is it normal in Kim Hongjoong's life to be attacked? It was, based on the bullet that almost sent him to the other world and me, almost. Kim Hongjoong lived anything but a normal life.

Immediately as I closed the front door, Hongjoong hurried in front of me, pain running through his features that disappeared immediately when he saw me. He quickly came closer to me, worry taking over his painful features. He was eyeing me up and down searching for any injuries. Hongjoong cupped my cheeks and lifted my head.

"Fuck, Y/N, did you get injured?" He traced his right hand through my throat which was red from the choking. I just shook my head as a no, I was glaring at him, analyzing his features that changed between so many emotions, as his gaze remained at my throat, just to finally meet my glare.

"I told you not to go alone, for fuck's sake, Y/N!" He stepped away from me ran his finger through his red hair and squeezed it.

"Did you know someone would attack me? Hongjoong tell me something 'cause I have no idea what is happening." I looked at him with desperate eyes, trying to convince him, that he could tell me anything.

"No, I didn't know, but I felt it was going to happen." He turned his back to me and started to walk up and down in the living room. Then he stopped in front of the big window, where you could see the whole town, being busy, everyone living their normal life. He buried his hands into his face. I could see that his thoughts were screaming at him. A few minutes of silence fell between us. I was just waiting for him to collect his thoughts.

"You have to move out." His voice came out low, I barely could understand it. He didn’t even look at me, he was staring down at the city buried in mist.

My heart started to race, I knew, I knew I needed to move out at some point as I couldn't live here forever. But…it felt weird, months of being here, getting used to each other in ups and downs. And this coming from his mouth, I don't know why…but it hurt.

"Joong…" I stepped closer to him, slowly approaching him. "At least tell me what is going on. They asked about some Captain…is that you?" He was still standing in front of the window, his side profile was sharp, and his red hair seemed brighter as the sun was shining at him, giving it a little shade of orange, he was frowning as he was still thinking. But when he turned, all the emotions were gone from his features, I couldn't see any signs of the prior emotions that were running through his face.

He was glaring at me sharply very determined. "They are going to hurt you if you stay with me, just pack your things and I'll take you somewhere." He said with a commanding voice, that shouted he did not accept no as an answer. I was just looking at him, making sure he really meant it, but he held my gaze without blinking. Tears started to appear in my eyes from all the sudden emotions and from the thoughts of being alone again. I couldn't do anything other than to obey him.

After I quietly packed my things into a bag, this was all I had, I could pack my whole life into a black dirty bag. This bag was by my side all the time, not like the people, who always left me.

The ride to the place Hongjoong was driving us, was quiet. The sun hid behind the big, angry clouds and slowly raindrops started to drop at the windshield. I just leaned my head against the window and stared at the raindrops that were racing against each other on the glass. My mind was empty, I couldn't think. I felt Hongjoong's eyes on me at times, but I just couldn't look at him, because I felt like I might break then.

When we arrived and went up to the apartment that was also Hongjoong's, I stood in the living room and dropped the beg from my hand as I looked around. It was smaller than the penthouse, it was just an ordinary flat, with white furniture, as you stepped in, the living room was an open area with a kitchen. I saw two doors that I assumed were the bedroom and the bathroom. It was small and cozy, but I'm not sure if it will stay like that when I'm going to be left alone with my thoughts. I felt his gaze on my back and I turned around, finally looking into his eyes. Tears immediately started to appear in my eyes, I knew it was a goodbye, and I hated goodbyes. He slowly approached me, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands traced over my cheekbones, wiping the tear away that escaped along the way, then he traced his thumb over my lips, carefully as he was afraid he might break me. But it was too late cause I was already broken.

He slowly replaced his thumb with his thin lips, the piercing on his lips cutting my lips, the stinging racing down to my heart, he cupped my face and pulled me into a passionate kiss, that screamed, it was good 'til it lasted. Tears fell onto my face, falling on our lips as I felt the salty taste. He moved his lips against mine as he wanted to endure this moment for the rest of his life. My heart was aching, I felt like a knife was stabbed directly into my heart.

"You have to forget me, sweetheart." He whispered painfully onto my lips, as he leaned his forehead against mine, his words twisting the knife in my heart.

"But I don't want to." I shook my head, grabbing his wrists that still held my face. The tears never stopped rolling down my face.

"You have to, you are capable of anything, my heart." His eyes were full of adoration, that I never saw in his eyes, caressing my cheeks for the last time as he stepped away from me.

I shook my head as I cried out, I felt like my heart was going to stop at any time. "No, don't leave me Hongjoong…" My voice came out weak, it was barely audible as my crying got worse.

But all he did was turn around, without any emotion. "Goodbye, sweetheart!" and I was left alone again.

My legs gave up and I fell on the ground as I pressed my hands to my mouth just to somehow calm myself down. After all, he was just someone, who helped me out when needed. In these few months, I felt like finally I was heading in the right direction, I felt like I was finally stepping on the right road toward my dreams. Being with Hongjoong made me realize, that everyone deserves someone, who can support them, who can be by their side and give them some bits of advice, to keep them going. But destiny said, no, and I needed to move forward. My life was a never-ending circle, I always found someone who I trusted but eventually, they just treated me like I was some garbage. In the end, I was always alone, being left alone with my bag, to go somewhere else.

The next few weeks were all about painting. When I felt down, I always escaped into painting. At first, I was just staring into the white canvas in the building where the painting courses were held, I wanted to paint, but I didn't feel anything at all. I thought I was going to paint all the existing canvases in the world based on the emotions that I felt. But, when I found myself sitting in front of a big white canvas, I felt empty. I felt like I was there but at the same time, my mind was elsewhere.

As I closed my eyes, the dream that I dreamed the night when Hongjoong collapsed on the floor with a bullet in him, jumped in front of me. I saw his face, his smile that was rare to see. The warm breeze blew on his hair, lifting his red hair from his forehead. I saw him again in slow-motion as he turned around just to look into his eyes, he lifted his hand, inviting me to go with him. As I slowly approached him and reached my hands to take it, he disappeared.

 I opened my eyes as I found myself in reality, facing with the white canvas and I saw an image on it, a face. I lifted my brush to the colors that were laid out in front of me and pushed it into the red color, just to lift it in front of the canvas. I drew one line with the red color and it was the most beautiful thing I saw in my life. The way it excelled on the white canvas fascinated me, it was a deep shade of red, that reminded me of Hongjoong's red hair, but then the blood that was all over the place that night. I kept drawing on the canvas, tracing the brush in shapes, switching between colors as my mind finally felt at ease. I never felt more calmer than now, as I didn't even realize what I was painting. I closed the world out and continued to paint the picture I was imagining in my head.

Who knows how much time went by, I didn't want to stop for even a moment, as I was desperate to finish this work, the work that brought me peace, that calmed my racing thoughts, that made me feel like I wasn't alone. I painted the last remaining white spot on the canvas with black and then I put my brush down, just to see the outcome. I inhaled through my mouth deeply, as I felt this was the first time I breathed through the whole painting.

The outcome was nothing compared to my recent paintings. It wasn't some random colors mixed, that had no shape at all.

It showed a scene, a scene that I saw with my own eyes. And it was the night I met with him. The background was all black, with different shades and a figure was leaning against the black wall, his right leg propped up to the wall, the cigarette lazily hanging from his pierced thin lips. His red hair was all wet from the rain that fell on him, it was pushed back with a black sunglass. The red dye was leaving red strings on his face, on his veiny neck. His black clothes were all soaked, and still, he was staring at me with eyes that screamed understanding, that was full of worry.

I never painted things like these, things that made sense, well not for others. It made me believe that Hongjoong started something in me, that I had never imagined I had.

The doorbell suddenly rang just after I arrived home after a tiring day at work. I changed into comfortable clothes, wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants. I wanted to make some dinner for myself when I heard the sound of the doorbell. I frowned, I really didn't know anyone here, maybe the neighbor came to welcome me.

I went to the door a little hesitantly, then unlocked it and when I opened it, I froze. It was Hoshi, my ex, glaring at me with his typical sharp eyes, that always reminded me of a tiger. His platinum blonde hair was always shaped perfectly, it was similar to a buzz cut, two straight strings falling close to his eyes, which made his gaze and features even sharper. He was always wearing punk clothes, with a lot of silver accessories.

"What are you doing here?" I asked when I finally found my voice. I needed all my confidence.

"Hi, baby." He smirked at me and just pushed me away to get into the apartment, letting himself inside.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Hoshi?" I was amazed by his behavior, he acted casually, went to my kitchen, poured some water for himself, making himself at home.

"Can't I just see my girl?" He turned and leaned against the counter with the glass of water, eyeing me up and down like a predator.

"Fuck you Hoshi! Don't tell me bullshit. Just tell me why are you here!" I lifted my voice up, it sounded angrier as I couldn't believe this man.

"Woah, easy, girl." He put the glass on the counter, just to come closer to where I was standing. "I just came to apologize." He reached his hands towards my waist, but I immediately stepped away from him. I saw that he needed to hold back himself from doing something wrong at that moment. "Okay." He lifted his hands to the air. "I just wanted to say that I feel bad about how I behaved at the club, you disappeared, Y/N. I didn't know where have you gone." His voice came out a little trembled, and his eyes were full of worry, but I knew it was just an act, an act so I will go back to him. I didn't say anything, but he didn't even let me when he continued.

"But I found out you were with that fucking red-haired shorty." His features suddenly changed from worried to angry. I had never seen him like this, it scared me.

He slowly came closer to me, just like a tiger that approached its prey. "Had fun fucking around with the Captain?" He looked like a psycho as he asked.

My heart rate picked up as I stepped back, just until my back hit the wall behind me. "How do you know him?"

As he was inches apart from me, he slowly reached his right hand towards my chest and traced his fingers on my skin, up to my neck, his gaze on his fingers. My chest was rising as shivers ran through my body, but these weren't the good types of shivers, it was because I felt terrified.

"Oh, you don't know a lot, babe." His fingers slowly traced up to my jaw and cheekbones. All I wanted to do was to run away from him. I felt disgusted, but he caged me against the wall, I had no chance.

"Then tell me." My voice came out rough, as I wanted to convince him I wasn't afraid of him.

"Well, that little redhead, is a fucking mafia leader. I didn't know you were into mafia gangs." He stepped away from me, as I finally could let out a sigh. "Stupid, Hoshi." He hit his forehead, with a psychotic smile. "If I would've known, I would've told you that I'm a mafia leader as well. Then you wouldn’t have run away." He approached me again, pushing me up against the wall. His face was inches apart from mine. I couldn't believe what he said. There was no fucking way I managed to catch both the town's mafia leaders. What happened with my life?

I scoffed at that, it was a joke. "You? As a mafia leader, you are funny Hoshi." I laughed into his face, as he got more annoyed.

"Did you have fun, when I sent my gang to threaten you so you will tell them where that fucker is?" He whispered it close to my face, his fingers crawling around my throat and squeezing it. My eyes rounded immediately, as my hands automatically tried to tear his hands off. "You had to fuck my only enemy that existed? I hate him, he destroyed my life, he took everything away." He hissed through his teeth.

"I'm asking again, nicely, Y/N. Where - is - he?" He squeezed his fingers more around my throat, as tears fell on my face, blurring my vision.

"Wh-where is that H-Hoshi I loved…" My voice came out weak, as I slowly saw black dots in my vision that were already blurred.

"He never existed." And with that, he squeezed my throat harder, as I was in desperate need of air, but it never came.

I was on the verge of fainting when sudden noises came from the staircase. The door was suddenly slammed open with a loud thump, all I could hear was footsteps, and my vision went black.

Hoshi's hands were gone from my throat, and I fell to the ground, barely conscious. I heard loud noises that my brain couldn't comprehend, glass breaking, shouting and when I opened my eyes weakly, I saw red. My vision was blurry, but when it cleared out I saw him and I knew I was safe.

He was holding me in his warm arms on the floor, my body was shaking from the lack of oxygen and the overwhelming emotions. He hugged me, as I buried my face into his chest, inhaling his peaceful scent, which always calmed me down. He traced my back up and down and pecked the top of my head, my forehead.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart for leaving you alone." His voice seemed like he was on the verge of breaking.

I slowly lifted my head up to look into his eyes, and I met with two eyes full of regretful tears. My tears started to flow down my face at that, as I started sobbing.

"Please, forgive me." He cupped my cheeks and wiped my tears away with his thumb. "Shh, don't cry please because my heart breaks. You are my heart, Y/N." He leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out, just to get myself together. This man in front of me, who was only a stranger to me, in a short time became the most important person in my life.

"Don't you ever dare, leaving me." I whispered after a few seconds that felt like ages.

He smiled in relief, his smile looked exactly like in my dream, his lips curved up, and his nose scrunched. "I am never going to leave you, sweetheart."

He slowly reached his hands under my knees, just to lift me from the ground, my hand immediately curled around his neck, as he brought me to the bedroom and carefully took me down to the bed. He crawled next to me as we were both on our sides, facing each other. He reached his hand towards my face and caressed it as if we were just looking at each other.

"This time that I spent without you was hell." he tugged my hair behind my ear as he said. "I realized I can't live without you, Y/N. I never felt like this before. I got scared when those bastards attacked you, and I never felt this scared before in my life. I thought if I keep you away from me they won't hurt you. Please, forgive me." Tears started to appear in his eyes, that screamed regret.

I took his hand from my face and lifted it to my mouth, to carefully peck his warm palm. "It's okay, Hongjoong, I get why you did it. But you could've at least told me who you were." I looked at him weakly, as I felt more and more tired.

"I know." He scooted closer to me, holding my waist as he pulled me closer to him. "I was just terrified if you find out, you will run away from me." He said with a low voice, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I never would've run away, don't you remember how many times I stitched you up?" I smiled at him.

He chuckled at that sweetly. "Yeah, that would've been enough reason for you to run. But for some reason, you didn't." He frowned at that.

"I just couldn't leave you, even tho you acted weird all the time, I felt like I needed to be by your side." I wanted to tell him that I was going to be by his side forever.

"I want you to be by my side, sweetheart. I never felt more at ease than I was when you were with me." His lisp was inches apart from mine, as he whispered. "Being with me is going to be dangerous, but I'm going to do everything to protect you." He said as he pressed his lips against mine, capturing it as I could slip through his holding. His fingers reached to my neck, to the back of my nape just to run his fingers through my hair, pulling me impossibly close to him. I kissed him back desperate, with passion I never felt in my life. I never wanted to break the kiss, that tasted like happiness, that whispered good promises for the future.

2 months later

 "I want to show you something." Hongjoong hugged me from behind on the balcony where I was standing with a coffee mug in my hands. His hands crawled around my waist pulling me close to his chest, his head on my shoulder as we both were looking down to the busy town from his penthouse.

"What?" I asked with a genuine smile.

He pecked my neck sweetly before turning me around and taking my hands. "Come I'll show it to you." He was smiling at me like he seemed the happiest and most excited man on earth.

When we were in his black Maserati and I looked at him while driving, I could see that his smile never disappeared he was so excited for some reason and I started to get nervous as hell. After a fifteen-minute drive, we arrived somewhere. I didn't know about this side of the city. The streets were very artistic, with a lot of graffiti on some random walls, and artists were standing on the streets singing or painting. I looked around curious as I stepped out of the car. Hongjoong rounded the car and took my hand.

"Where are we Hongjoong?" I looked at him with a frown.

He just smiled at me, his perfect-white teeth showing. "I have to blindfold you, sweetheart. I don't want to expose the surprise." He took a silk blindfold from his pocket and chuckled as he saw my confused face.

"Just trust me, love." His voice came out low as he pecked my lips sweetly and blindfolded me.

He was leading me around, as I couldn't see anything. We went through a door, and the street's noise faded away. Our footsteps were echoing on the strange floor as we walked inside. Suddenly Hongjoong stopped me, as he turned me to face him. He reached his hands to unfold the silk material, as it slowly fell on the floor. My eyes followed how it fell on the floor, which was made out of brown marble. Then my gaze lifted, just look around where we were. My mouth fell open, it was a big and empty hall with big windows, where the light came inside, lighting the emptiness inside. The walls were all white, the ceiling was meters away from us, and it was huge.

"Why are we here?" I asked after my gaze fell on Hongjoong, who was looking at me the whole time.

He stepped closer to me, to hold my waist and pull me closer to him. His face was inches away. "This is your gallery where you can exhibit your paintings." He said with an excited smile, waiting for my reaction.

I pressed my hands to my mouth, my eyes rounded unbelievably "No way." Tears appeared in my eyes.

"Yes way, sweetheart." Hongjoong giggled seeing my reaction. "I want you to show the world how talented you are." He caressed my cheeks as he said with a sweet and proud look on his face.

I couldn't believe this. "Hongjoong…" tears started to fall to my cheeks, as I started to jump in excitement just to jump on Hongjoong who was taken aback by my sudden movement, but he caught me in time. He lifted me to spin us around as we both chuckled like two teenagers.

"Thank you so much Hongjoong." I whispered to his ear when he took me down and I buried my face to his chest. "I couldn't be grateful enough for making my dreams come true." I lifted my head to face him.

He was looking down at me with the proudest smile. "I'm happy I can be by your side while you achieve your dreams." He cupped my face and pecked my lips as I giggled.

"I love you, Hongjoong." I said looking up at him with teary eyes, as I never felt happier in my life.

"I love you more, sweetheart." And with that, he kissed me passionately like never before, his lips moved against mine slowly, as we were standing in the gallery that was going to hold all the emotions I felt in the past years, so I could finally let them go. And that one portrayal of Kim Hongjoong, that promised me a good future by his side.

The portrayal that showed the first time I saw him, the first time I fell in love with him, on the night we met.

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊.

i. ii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warning: depression, worthlessness, cauldron trauma, angst, that’s kinda it for now tbh.

Word Count: 1.9k

taryn thinks: ive been thinking about eris vanserra for a long time and reading lost bonds by @readychilledwine about tamlin kind of gave me some inspo and motivation i haven’t had in a while to write this. also ttpd because ive been down in the dumps and feeling angsty so… enjoy!! 🫶🏼 i apologize if it’s a bit scrambled lol, i just wanted to write it out.

The fabric Nuala and Cerridwen had dressed her in erased any and all traces of the truth. The destitute it had felt her life became since this newfound immortality ripped everything Blair Archeron had ever known away from her, tucked away. Hidden behind the gauzy chiffon.

There had been small pockets of awareness, of feeling like she had control over herself lately. Where she didn’t rot away in bed, or a chaise— alone and wrapped in the quiet of her mind. Staring into open space, ghosting through whatever this life was.

Those times were hard to come by, and even when the war against Hybern was raging it was decided Blair would stay safe in Velaris. Where she had always remained. Where she did not leave, until today.

It was a pointed argument among their small circle that this life was no better than what Feyre had been through with Tamlin, but Blair did not fight it. Simply… existed inside of it.

It wasn’t that nobody tried to help, they did. They asked questions, gave the second eldest sister every chance to open up. To get out, to experience this new world. To talk.

Elain would argue even when she did, it was mere hollows of the person Blair had been who responded. The echoes that remembered how to speak, that walked so smoothly and carelessly that she seemed to float on a hot wind.

Blair was not fearless, she was not cunning, she was not soft, nor was she anything that her sisters were. She was simply… other.

And maybe that was the furthest thing from simple, that there were no words to describe the ethereal beauty of her hollowness. Maybe there never would be.

Blair didn’t seem to mind, and she got away with it.

Content was the feeling that seemed the most appropriate to describe the life she lead now. Moved into her youngest sisters River Home, with a large room at the end of the house overlooking the winding waters. The gardens Elain had crafted and tended when she wasn’t at the townhouse sat below, the large expanse of the land out to the river in full view. The snow capped mountains that danced across the skyline, one’s she sometimes watched Feyre paint in front of from her window day after day, month after month.

She supposed she had it coming when Nesta was forced to the House of Wind. When her older sister by a mere year had pointed out that Blair had amounted to nothing in the time Nesta had been taken hostage inside that House on the side of the mountain. When Nesta had been expected to work and be something, Blair had still remained as useless as before.

“She is adjusting,” Feyre had argued on Blair’s behalf. Blair had been the kindest of their sisters to Feyre when they were in that cabin, poor and broken and nothing. Who had helped with no qualms, who had genuinely cared for them all— even their seemingly worthless father. “—she did not ask for this, the same as you. At least she is not drinking herself to death.” The smartest of them, as Feyre had described to Rhys’ Inner Circle before those meetings in the mortal realm, others would have thought the same if they knew her before.

Before she became this… thing.

“You let her wither away, sitting about in her sadness and grief and her muteness. I would think she had forgotten how to speak if it weren’t for the utterly mundane responses she gives.” Nesta had barked back at their little sister while Blair sat by the window, unmoving. Her face a mask of cool indifference like she wasn’t quite hearing anyway. “How is what she’s doing any different than what I have? Because she isn’t spending your money? Because she hasn’t tainted Rhysand’s precious Court image?”

She didn’t care how they spoke of her, didn’t care to defend herself from Nesta’s forked tongue— it took more energy than she had to argue. Blair could have washed away right into the water that rushed through the river she stared into for all she cared.

Everything had just gone so… wrong from that point. As if Nesta’s breaking point was seeing her first baby sister be so broken and discarded, she had ripped into a secret nobody had even bothered to tell Feyre or Blair— that Feyre’s babe would kill her.

The rest had been a blur like usual after and here they were, dressed and gowned in the finest clothes they had. In the short time since finding out about Feyre’s deadly predicament, everyone seemingly had agreed with Nesta about Blair’s lack of presence in their court… or any at all.

The only people who knew she existed were those that were present when she was forced into the bitterly cold water of the cauldron. When it had felt as though she drowned, that she had died there and something else had filled her body. Felt as though she could only see herself from outside of her body, outside of whatever she had became.

Blair Archeron would be making her debut to the Court of Nightmares in the same fashion Feyre would be revealing her pregnancy. She didn’t know much else, didn’t care for the details or even why Nesta had been training in dances they both knew since childhood. Just what she was to wear and to come when called.

To admit the dress she was now wearing wasn’t utterly beautiful would be a disgrace in itself, and she looked stunning.

Despite her pointed ears being viewable, Blair’s long and heavy gold-brown hair had been curled gorgeously, cascading down her freckled and fair bare back to cover where her dress did not. Kissing and tickling the skin when she moved her head, half of her hair pulled back from her face into loose twirls and braids.

Her face painted in light cosmetics that she didn’t need. It was no secret that her beauty came first out of the four sisters, even before dear Elain’s— skin freckled, dark lashes and brows, cheeks usually tinted pink naturally. But her eyes, her eyes were the rarest of her sisters and what made her so profoundly different.

A base of that gray-blue that grew more vibrant as it met her pupil. But the flecks of nearly golden amber splattered like an artist had flicked their wrist in a rush is what made them so different.

Why the black of her dress fit her so much better than it did poor Elain, her second youngest sister nearly washed out by the bleak darkness she had been presented to wear.

The dress clinging to Blair’s torso was bedecked in gold sparkling beads that formed lines of detail along the bodice and the hem by her feet, the fabric black beneath it. Hugging tight to her figure. Eating and drinking had gotten easier after the war and had allowed her to fill out again.

Her full breasts wrapped tight to her chest where they sat prettily, the dips in her hips and waist outlined by the sheer sleeves that flared well past her hands, capped around her shoulders but left her back utterly bare despite the illusion of the chiffon looking like a cape.

The dress hung from her body as she waited almost carelessly to enter the throne room of Hewn City, and Blair felt a little like she might die.

The air here, anywhere, was so much colder than the sweltering heat of her bedroom where she kept the fire roiling day and night— where she felt like she was at home even if it was just in her head. Sleeping on the floor in front of it most nights, where the crackling of the fire could drown out the sound of her thoughts. Where the warmth could make her feel something other than empty.

Now. Feyre’s voice rang warmly in Blair’s head, echoing outside of the thick walls of forest she’d been taught to put up. Spruce and oak, winding paths lined with red poppy’s and orange geraniums, fogged over meadows to traipse through at will. A maze for anyone else, with no beginning and no end.

The rest of them had gone in a half hour ago it seemed, Blair to be used if they needed to pull a distraction or anything. She would be introduced no matter what, but timing was to be used as an advantage.

The towering doors to the throne room boomed open as Blair turned the corner to the hallway, the curls in her hair bouncing with every step despite the light wind billowing through her flowing sleeves as if she were gliding.

The music continued as she kept her head high and entered the space, hands folded neatly in front of her. A small upward twitch of her pretty red lips, her face calm and still.

Still as the room became when her feet hit the marble across that threshold.

She walked, one foot in front of the other. Head in a full fog before she even entered the throne room— but there was a tug. Something that had almost made her stumble, but she sucked in a tight breath as she focused on the dais ahead.

Pulling, tugging, a line going taut the closer she became and her vision cleared. Someone that had been in deep discussion before Blair entered, someone now turned to face her as everyone else did.

All but the Court of Dreamers gaping at her, at her beauty. So much different than her obvious sisters, a third sister to the High Lady of the Night Court, but so much the same that it was easily distinguishable. Gasps and whispers filling Blair’s now clear ears, but she didn’t look anywhere but the male in front of Rhys and Feyre— as much as she wanted to. As much as she pleaded with herself to look away, she could not.

The bright auburn hair, the pale and freckled skin of his handsome face. All fae were gorgeous, she’d been told and equally come to learn but… just the very look of him made her skin heat.

A look of something similar washed through his amber eyes, the matching amber to the flecks in her own, his throat bobbing.

Something like devastation went through this male and though Blair couldn’t tear her eyes from his as she finally made those last steps to the dais, she could see Rhys’ mask slip ever so slightly from the corner of her eye before it went back up.

There was a part of her, so enamored by whoever this person was— and something about him made her slip back into consciousness. That outside look at herself faded back into her own body and she didn’t realize until she breathed again that her heart had been beating so rapidly.

Or that she hadn’t addressed her High Lord and Lady.

Or that they’d demanded the crowd go back to dancing and drinking and eating.

Or that all she did was face this male, a look of shocked confusion painting her usually dull expression because somehow, someway, she felt like she knew him.

And that the tug she felt, that line, went utterly taut before him.

🏷️: @thehighladywrites and anyone else that wants to be added to a tag list for this or anything else lmk lmfao

[lookiamnotshameless]

You know, I usually hate the 'really pretty person doesn't realize they're pretty' trope, but there's something about it that works when it happens with Roderich Edelstein, aka the man who spent half a millennium being The Catch of Europe, and knew it. He knew, and despite making rather full use of that and despite looking like that, he vehemently believes that he is plain and uninteresting without his glasses (his music), that he'd instantly become the worst looking person in Europe when you ask him to put on a relatively harmless costume (so, without his veneer of aristocracy).

This isn't your standard garden variety oblivious insecurity; this is some next level denial of self. This man actively, categorically and thoroughly denies any idea that he can possibly be attractive/wanted/needed by himself, as a person, rather than by what he is, the power he can offer, the cultural refinement he possesses. While he isn't repressed about who he is and has no qualms about showing his slovenly/lazy sides, he simply denies that it has any value. It goes beyond ‘I'm worthless', it's more like, ‘there's no value in getting to know any of this, don't bother' matter-of-factly. (I remember that meta that he doesn't even take his glasses off if there's even one person with him, even someone he's more comfortable around like Erzsebet.) There are cases of other characters telling him that he looks just fine or showing him rather personal affection, and he just seems to…shrug it off, like you'd shrug off someone who just stated that the world is flat and lizardmen live on the moon. He's not angsty about it. This is how he prefers it. He prefers that there's nothing to Roderich Edelstein the entity-who-could-conceivably-be-seen-as-a-person, only what Austria the Nation has built over the years.

Couple that with how he embraces his lack of agency and complacency to a degree that nobody else does and is just kind of shrug emoji about it, and he became this sort of undying cockroachlike intrigue that won't leave my brain even after so many years.

At the end of the day this is probably why my endgame Roderich ship in the Year of Our Lord 2024 is still Gilbert, after all this time. Reams of text have been written about how they've been such perfect foils to each other across the centuries, and what could be a more perfect modern-day foil to all that than the character who literally has nothing left but being a person? Someone who lost everything built in his name as an immortal earth-god-parasite-spirit-thing, whose legacy is being slowly forgotten? Someone who, despite shining as bright as Roderich back in his prime, had never defined or presented himself as anything but who he is as a person and expected the same from others? (Gilbert has his own tanks of worms yes but this is a Roderich stan post.)

When you take in the fact that Gilbert was weirdly obsessed with stalking and antagonizing Roderich this entire time, it creates a really nice juicy conflict point for my shipping tastes lol.

[uchihaharlot]

I didn't mean to break their hearts, I was just curious, srry!😭😭 (but Itachi's one was kinda funny-)

But anyway, now I'm wondering about how they would react if they found out that you can draw really cool and beautiful.

(I'm an artist, so😎)

Nonny 🥹🥹

That put me in an really good mood; lol. That was way too fun to write; maybe I can one day write a super angsty break up (but I love them too much!!!).

I love all artists 😭😭😭 Painters, writers — digital or paper. Anything that expresses the inner workings of someone’s mind and the fact that they can manifest it to reality is so so so beautiful. I hope I’ve secretly seen your art, I’d probably simp over it. Always simp over art. 😂😂🥹🥹

N/SFW; very cute Uchiha men adoring your artwork! 🥹🥹🥹 (ooc Madara??); Simpy Obito; …Scandalous Shisui; abnormally observant Itachi 😂 suggestive themes rolled out the further I got. For some reason, I just had to. (P.s. I should not be allowed to write when tired??? Half of this was done while my eyes rolled shut in bed).

Madara:

It’s not everyday that Madara is blown like a leaf in the wind. When you mentioned being a patron of the arts, he thought maybe the art of battle?? Didn’t expect your weapon to be a paint brush with some acrylic paint. Thought it was some weird jutsu infused shit.

And then you just had to go above and beyond and do a portrait of him for his birthday!!!!! It’s hung on the living room center wall so that it’s the first thing anyone sees! Honestly, this man is a brute, but your art envokes his softer side! A side that he hasn’t been in touch with for…well, a long time.

Makes sure that everyone and I mean, everyone, is aware of your talent! Still, he tries to find the side hussle in it, soliciting customers for you and all. 😭😭 Will trash talk the chalk art children make on the sidewalk, which ‘…that’s not nice, they’re children..’ you say. He shrugs, nobody is as good as you.

Obito:

Finds out and tries to ‘secretly’ commission you lmao. Makes it totally obvious too, his handwriting is shit and eveeeerrryyyyone knows who Tobi really is…. Plus how can you even begin without discussing what he wants done!! Duh, Obito! Unfortunately for him, you are more interested in drawing matters of the flesh. He’ll only show his chest, nothing more.

‘That’s fine.’ You shrug, and get to work. Obito, however, does not have the resolve to sit still! It’s frustrating to no end, but alas, after what seems an eternity— its done. Sort of. Still much to add, but the basics are there and you’ll work better when he’s not asking how does it look every twenty minutes.

Eventually you do finish this beautiful piece of him, and Obito cries. You made his scars tolerable and beautiful with your mind’s creativity, he feels less self conscious about them, only a little.

Shisui:

Is the least normal about it when he discovered your sketchbook — more like snatched and played keep away. Had to fight him for it, literally. Will ask you to paint/draw him naked…many times lol and you respectfully say no... Not that he likes people to see him naked (ok maybe a little?) but he secretly hopes it might happen one day. It would be a private thing for the two of you, cause he wants that ass.

And when you do cave to his whim, just to satiate him. He’s nervous lmao. Had this oh so macho man idea of rocking a hard on but Shisui simply maintains his usual semi. It’s nice though, you make sure it’s extremely detailed..as he asked for.

But, ‘(y/n)… this is chibbi!!!’ Lol, jokes on Shisui!! He didn’t say how to draw his pp.

Itachi:

Is the most normal about it. Though he still will praise you every time you finish a piece and show him, he is still massively impressed. How does your wrist not get tired? …maybe this is why your hand jobs are so good. 😈 Just watching you try a new technique (pointillism, which is my favorite style) makes his wrist hurt. Enjoys when you ask him for ideas! He has lots of them! Mostly…obscure and derelict landscapes though.

Would not be opposed to having his portrait done, but it’s really not his style. He is disciplined enough to sit still but doesn’t see the value in it. Not until the final product is revealed, does he truly understand how important this piece was. You’ve captured his personality in a new light.

[misc-obeyme]

not sure if this one has been done before but i'd like to request a set of headcanons for the dateables who assumed mc (male or gender neutral, up to you!) had feelings for someone else, and had already given up, right up until they confessed that they were in love with them.

also, can solomon's be set during nightbringer? i don't mind when the others are set!

thank you! i love your writing!!

Hi there, anon!

This may have been done, but it hasn't been done by me, so you're good lol! Oh man this one was fun. They all start out angsty and then end with the confession and I love it. I have to write angst more often, apparently I enjoy making characters feel pain. Which is weird considering I made myself sad writing these. I kind of feel like this might just be the universal writer experience, though.

Also I feel I should mention that Diavolo believes MC is in love with Lucifer because I honestly feel like that's the only scenario in which he would completely give up lol. Everybody else's is vague, but they all think it's one of the brothers.

Thank you for the request!

the dateables think GN!MC is in love with someone else and give up on them, but then MC confesses

Warnings: angst as all the characters believe that MC is in love with someone else, but ends with fluff

Diavolo

He can tell that there's someone you care about. It's in the way you sometimes get a private sort of look, like you're thinking about something very specific, and then you smile softly. Seeing that smile makes his heart ache. He's so happy that there's someone who makes you feel that way, someone who makes you smile like that, but he's fairly certain it isn't him. The pain of knowing that you'll never be his is deep. It keeps him up at night, but he tries to act like there's nothing wrong.

He thinks you're in love with Lucifer. He can't deny that there's something special between the two of you. And he's convinced that Lucifer is the only one that you could be in love with. Lucifer is protective, competent, and always looking out for you. You rely on him, but he relies on you, too, more than he would admit. And Diavolo simply doesn't have that closeness with you.

He thinks he's being very realistic about the situation. There's no point in pursuing you when your heart clearly belongs to someone else. Convinces himself that he's happy enough just to be near you, to be in your presence. Sometimes lets himself feel jealousy over it, but works hard to suppress that feeling. Actively tries to move on because he has responsibilities he needs to focus on.

So when you confess to him, he's in shock. Actually speechless for several minutes. And then he grabs your hands. MC, are you sure? Are you sure you're in love… with him? You won't have to reassure him more than once. As soon as you tell him you're sure, he's accepted what you've told him. Gets teary eyed about it because the feeling in his chest is so overwhelming. He never thought this could happen, but here you are, telling him that you're in love with him. All he wants to do now is kiss you. You've made him so happy he can't think straight.

Barbatos

He knows right away that you've fallen for someone. He's observant, so it isn't hard for him to pick up on it. It's obvious in the way you get a little preoccupied sometimes. You become a little forgetful and scatterbrained, like your mind is somewhere else. But you also seem a little happier, quicker to smile and laugh. What an odd feeling for him. Seeing you like this fills him with a special contentment. And yet…

Barbatos doesn't necessarily know who it is you have feelings for. At least, there's nobody he suspects is your special person. He just knows it isn't him. He's convinced that he would be able to tell if it was. Sometimes thinks about who it might be and has certain others that he thinks would be a good fit for you, but he doesn't dwell on this too much. Busies himself with his work so he doesn't have to think about that little sting he feels whenever he thinks about it.

A master at compartmentalizing his mind and feelings so that he doesn't have to deal with them. Simply tucks all that away into a corner of his soul where he can ignore it entirely. Let it stay there and fester for a bit. He has more important things to deal with than his own silly feelings. And so nobody would be able to tell - not you, not Diavolo, no one. He has a lot of practice at keeping secrets, after all.

But all of that is going to come bursting out of its restraint when you tell him how you feel. Blushes instantly. Overcome, overwhelmed, flooded with the emotions he'd been keeping locked up tight. You can see the chaos in his eyes. But he takes control of all of this pretty quickly. Pulls you close to him, wraps you in his arms. Truly you may never know the extent of his happiness, MC. Please always stay by his side.

Simeon

It isn't so much that he doesn't notice as he just assumes he's wrong. There's definitely something different about you lately, but he's not going to guess at what it is. Probably asks you directly if there's anything on your mind. Considering you're likely not ready to tell him how you feel, you can pretty much say anything about what's going on in your life and he'll accept it. Moves on without too much questioning, but keeps an eye on you.

Eventually, he won't be able to deny it. He's going to have a specific demon brother in mind, too. He watches you with that brother, whichever one you're closest to, and thinks he's figured it out. Even though you didn't tell him you were in love when he asked and he knows it's not a good thing to assume, he still can't help but notice it. The way you smile when that brother speaks to you. The way you seem to drift near him whenever you can.

And if Simeon takes the time to consider this for very long at all, he'll realize that the feeling that bubbles up in him first is jealousy. He's not happy about that. He doesn't like the way it makes him feel. And just underneath it, he senses a deep pain that he doesn't want to explore. So he attempts to shut it all down. He's very good at maintaining his composure when he's with you. But when he's alone, he lets himself feel everything. Might even let himself cry if he's certain no one will hear him.

Definitely cries when you tell him how you really feel. Just lets that relief wash over him and his love for you is something he can't contain. Please hold him, MC. He just wants to be near you forever. Never let him go. He might ramble for a little bit about how he thought you were in love with someone else. He might even tell you all about how it made him feel and how he wasn't dealing with it very well. But in the end, he's going to smile at you through his tears. Really make his heart burst by kissing them away.

Solomon

He's always known that you belong to the seven demon brothers. He knows him having a chance with you is just wishful thinking. It doesn't matter that you live with him now. That he's the only one who knows that you're really from the future. It doesn't matter how fast his heart beats whenever he sees your smile. That when he's with you all he can think about is putting his arms around you. Solomon knows you aren't his. You will always choose the brothers.

He's aware right away that you've got feelings for someone. He has his guesses. Perhaps two or three different demon brothers come to his mind. Starts paying attention to how you act around them to see if he can figure it out. He will question the brothers he suspects, just to see how they feel about you. If they give him less than satisfactory answers, he might try to steer you away from them. Not because he thinks that makes you more likely to choose him, but because he doesn't want to see you get hurt.

Ignores the way your softened expression makes his gut twinge. Sometimes stares at you for too long because he's trying so hard not to say something to you about it. He doesn't ask you because he knows he can't handle the answer. Starts throwing himself into his work. Forcing himself to think about anything else. But how can he think of anything other than you?

Your confession nearly takes him out. He's so surprised, so overcome with emotions, he falls to his knees at your feet. Grasps your hands like he's drowning and you're the only thing that will save him. He was holding so much tension inside and he didn't even realize it. Now it's all draining away. You can either pull him to his feet or join him on the floor. Either way, he needs you to hold him. MC, please tell him he isn't dreaming. Please tell him this is real. Reassure him with a kiss and he'll pull you into a fierce embrace, like he's scared you'll vanish if he doesn't hold you tight enough.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Fandom lore from back in the day

The fandom during the years the show was on was booming with constant content being churned out, especially fanfics. Most of the BTR fanfic community knew each other and formed collective headcanons and lore that were then spread and picked up by the rest of the fandom (ie tumblr). I had only just recently discovered online fandom spaces at the time, so I didn't contribute fanfics or anything (which is good because I was young, and they would have been terrible), but I did absorb a good deal that stuck with me. Thought it might be fun to share. A lot of this might still apply today but truth be told, I don't really know much about the current fandom headcanons. I'm still learning things as I continue to interact with people on here! Also! Idk if anyone currently in the fandom was around during Miss Fenway's reign, but she was the Queen of the BTR fandom and most "famous" of the fanfic community. A lot of the headcanons adopted by the fandom started with her and were quickly picked up by others.

Kendall • Pretty much unanimous agreement that his father was a deadbeat who had walked out on the family very shortly after Katie was born. This explains why there is ZERO mention of him in the show, no family pictures in the background that hint at a father still being in their lives, etc. He caused them a lot of pain, so they erased any trace of him. • Some people took a little bit of a kinder approach to him, where he was a genuinely loving dad when Kendall was very young, but then things unraveled, and he ended up leaving. • He was big into hockey, which sparked Kendall's love for the sport. • Lots of sad fanfics involving Little Kendall dealing with his parents deteriorating marriage and being forced to "take charge" once his dad left. • Also agreement that he likely dealt with a decent amount of anxiety and very clear abandonment issues, along with a hero complex. • Naturally, Kendall was very often the focus of intensely angsty fics. He was always being pushed to the limit, ignoring his own issues, sacrificing himself, etc until he reached his breaking point.

Logan • Prior to the airing of Big Time Moms, it was generally headcanoned that Logan's mother had died when he was very young, and he was being raised by his father. • It was also headcanoned (in the fanfic-sphere at least) that Logan's dad was an awful person. Don't ask me how this came to be because I don't actually know. All I remember is discovering fanfiction, reading fic after fic of Logan's dad being horrible, and going, "Huh, I guess that's a thing." • Logan's dad ranged anywhere from being a raging workaholic who totally ignored & neglected Logan to being outright abusive. • The main reason Logan threw himself so hard into school and being "smart" was so his father would notice him. It did not work. • Because of this, the fandom headcanoned that Logan was pretty much "adopted" into the Knight family from the moment he befriended Kendall. Mrs. Knight is the one who raised him and gave him love, and so he and Kendall grew up as brothers. (Several fanfics even had Logan be officially adopted into the Knight family at some point) • If there was an award for most tortured character in BTR fanfiction, Logan would have won hands down during the 2009-2013 fanfic era. This guy was put through the wringer! He was always experiencing trauma. When he wasn't being emotionally scarred by his dad, he was dying tragically or losing an arm in a shark attack or getting brain damage or being kidnapped. Logan suffered constantly lol the poor guy.

Carlos • He likely got the best, most lighthearted side of fandom headcanons and probably suffered the least in fics. Largely because he's Carlos, and nobody wants to hurt Carlos. • From a big, loud, happy family. Definitely the healthiest, most stable upbringing of all the boys. • Babied and loved so so much by his parents. • People had different ideas regarding the actual makeup of his immediate family, but most people headcanoned him as the oldest and only boy, with 3 or 4 much younger sisters. • His father was often written as having a special bond with Logan. I remember a trend in fics where Logan called Mr. Garcia "papa" and looked to him as the main father figure in his life. • It's still assumed that Carlos has a serious case of ADHD, right? Because that was a given back in the day. James • Honestly, I remember the least amount of James lore. Let's see... • Only child • Uses his superficial exterior to hide the fact he's deeply insecure • Actually feels everything so deeply that he has to pretend he doesn't care to avoid getting hurt. This was used to many fic writer's advantage. • Loved by his parents, but they don't show it well, and he grew up feeling disconnected from them. And that's about all I've got!

I should dig back through my old list of bookmarked fanfics at some point and make a post of the ones that were my favorites.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Your blog is my guilty pleasure lol, it's so validating to read your very matter of fact rebuttals after years of being talked over & down to in the fandom. Being in the fan space & hearing the way people talked about how much more "female gaze coded" Z/tara was made me feel like I was betraying other women by not liking Zuko or Zutara the way "real mature" women did.

Funniest thing is, when i watched the show as a kid as an older sister, someone with talent/skills that nobody else understood, a girl who felt she had to be mature all the time, Kataang instantly became my otp. Katara was living my dream of a fun, cute boy sweeping me off my feet, telling me I was special and going on a magical journey with me-- I had the HUGEST crush on Aang as a little girl. It was so lame growing older and hearing near constantly from the fandom how stupid and unbelievable the idea that Katara actually had feelings for Aang was, and how it's a "male" (aka: bad) fantasy, when honestly Zuko's angsty ass was far from dream boyfriend material in my opinion it made me feel gaslit fjhdidjskj.

Genuine Z/tara fans are fine, I totally get the appeal of the red/blue enemies to lovers sparks fly ship, but the meanest and loudest of your crewmates and the way they act like their tastes are the Correct ones has been just. ridiculous for many years. And why do those types always feel the need to start the conversation by bashing Kataang every single time?? I started with a positive opinion of their ship when I entered the fandom as a teen, even liked a few arts and whatnot as a "what-if," but all the nonsense has left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

So yeah, thanks for this space to complain about the experiences we've had lol. I've had one too many conversations about ATLA & how good it is interrupted with the other person going "well except for the Main Romance, that was shit and Z/tara should have been endgame" not to be Worn Out. Like if in their opinion the show is *perfect* except that One thing.... maybe the problem lies elsewhere?

Yup, that's definitely a pattern I noticed: zutarians are SO many and SO loud, that even though a pretty large part of the fandom disagrees with their takes (regardless of enjoying the canon ships or not) most of them just... didn't talk about it because they didn't want to be harrassed or talked down to or be hit with the "well, we are the majority therefore we're right" argument.

It's part of why I was innitially shocked at how much support this blog got. I thought I just gonna be in my own little bubble of the fandom, but nope, I got sooooo many messages of "FINALLY! Somebody said it!"

And looking back, I should've noticed something was off. There's a reason ATLA's ending was not one of these disasters that basically nukes and kills 90% of the fandom and live in infamy as one of the worst falls from grace ever, How I Met Your Mother style, even though both shows had the fan favorite ship not end together.

It wasn't just that one was well-written and the other wasn't (though that clearly affected the audience and critical reception of these endings, both at the time and through the decades).

HIMYM was a case of "The actual endgame ship was loathed by nearly everyone while the rival pairings were almost universally beloved."

ATLA was a case of "70% of the fandom likes this ship - of these fans, 25% are multishipers that also like the canon ships, 25% only like the ship in fanfic but don't actually want it to be a thing, 25% loves it but can accept it not being canon at point because they acknowledge it'd be rushed, and the 25% are the ones that would burn down Bryke's house if they could, so in reality only a fraction of the fandom didn't accept the Kataang/Maiko endgame, while the overwhelming majority was either happy about it or indifferent to it"

And that's without taking into account that Avatar got new popularity boosts through the years that lead to plenty of people that had Zutara being hyped up for years being disappointed when they realized "Oh, it was popular because of fanon shit, not because it actually would have made sense story-wise" or people who reached that same conclusion after rewatching the show.

I think that's why Zutarians have such a victim complex and want to pretend Bryke and Kataang/Maiko fans are "oppressing" them - they've been dominating the conversation for years, and not only got no results out of it, they're now losing that "leverage" too. They're no longer in an echo-chamber, they need to use actual arguments that make sense if they want their opinion to be almost universal and they just can't do it because their ship was never that good to begin with.

[toomuchracket]

angsty part two hmm. well maybe it can have something to do with whatever the heck was going on at electric umbrella studios. maybe girly is there helping out bea (we can pretend maybe she’s doing stuff with jack and not matty for ease of everyone’s heart lmao) then there is that little listening party or whatever where taylor and matty are seen together but maybe girly’s heart couldnt stand to stick around for very long so she leaves early. maybe in this dream matty pulls his head out of his ass and decides he will do anything and be anything that girly wants him to be because this thing with taylor is not doing it for him either

ok! edited the request slightly. and it doesn't have a happy ending because actually i'm a messy bitch who lives for drama. please note: THIS ISN'T ACTUALLY CANON IN THE D WORD UNIVERSE IT'S JUST A COLLECTIVE NIGHTMARE. ok. lol. happy new year. enjoy <3

gone four weeks, part 2 (d word matty x reader angst)

“oh my god, hi! you came! oh, thank you so much!” taylor pulls you into a hug, which you reciprocate warmly; you've no problem with her, after all. “and you look amazing! your hair! those shoes! it's a new look for you. i like it.”

you smile. “thank you, i just fancied a bit of a change. and thank you for inviting me! i was so touched when i got your message.”

“matty said it was your favourite of my albums - i couldn't not have you here.”

what the fuck?

“oh, he did?” you try to keep your face and voice steady. “that was nice of him.”

taylor nods. “it was the first thing he said when i first wondered if anyone would even come to a 1989 listening party - you would, if you were around. thank god margaret ran into you last week and told me you were!”

you murmur a “yeah”, in response, too busy reeling from the sudden emotional pain in your heart to reply properly. blinking a couple of times, you look back towards the front door of the studio to see more people coming in. “taylor, i'll catch up with you later, yeah? let you speak to… oh my god, i'm at the same party as kendrick lamar? fucking hell.”

she laughs, squeezing your arm. “no worries, babe. i'll see you later! matty’s… somewhere, if you want to catch up with him”.

not bloody likely. “cool. see you!”

you smile politely at kendrick, who returns it (!!), before heading off into the busy room. there are people you recognise absolutely everywhere you turn, but nobody you really know, more just celebrities you'd be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of. no sign of jack, or margaret, or even matty - not that you particularly want to see him, to be honest, but a familiar face (one not from your tv screen, that is) would definitely calm you down.

of course, so would a cigarette.

pulling your cigs and lighter from your bag, you nudge the side door open with your hip and step out into the alleyway and still-warm evening air. and then, almost immediately, you wish you hadn't. because, standing with his back to you - although that makes no difference, you'd know those back muscles and that head of hair anywhere - is matty, talking to jack and margaret, all three of them smoking.

fuck. this was an awful idea. but you can't turn back to go inside now, because jack's clocked you; he’s beaming, waving at you, shouting “sprout! get over here and smoke with us!”

despite yourself, you smile, wandering over and allowing yourself to be enveloped in a hug from the man and his fiancée. “wish you'd stop bloody calling me that, jack.”

“never,” jack replies, kissing your head as he releases you into margaret's arms. “you're sprout, and he's cabbage.”

“whatever - hi, mags,” you kiss your friend's cheek as she breaks apart and settles her arm around your waist, before reluctantly meeting your ex's gaze. you're irritated to see that he looks good. like, really good, something-twinging-between-your-legs good. get a grip! “matthew.”

“alright?” matty smiles at you, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “almost didn't recognise you. hair's shorter.”

you shrug. “wanted something different.”

“sounds like you.”

the snide comment slices through you. unlike last time, though, you don't tear up; you fire right back at him. “well, i'm at an age where i can afford to experiment.”

matty frowns, while jack and margaret burst into giggles. the latter kisses the side of your head. “god, you’re funny. i can't believe you were in the city all this time and you didn't tell us! i miss hanging out with you.”

“i was busy,” you place a cigarette between your lips, shaking hands trying and failing to successfully operate the lighter. matty wordlessly steps forward and does it for you - your cheeks burn as much as the cig does. “thank you.”

“don't,” matty waves it off, taking a long drag of his own cig before looking at you again. “so. you haven't been back home?”

“not since the last time you saw me,” you ash the cig, pointedly looking down at the ground. “there hasn't been any work for me to do, so there's nothing keeping me there, really.”

matty scoffs. “typical, you prioritising your job.”

“well, it's what you pay me for. you should be happy i care so much about my career, really, matty,” you smile, saccharine as summer peaches, before turning to jack and margaret. “anyway, how's wedding planning going?”

jack breaks into an excited soliloquy that you can only half focus on, hoping you're timing the oohing and aahing and awwing at his fiancée’s enthusiastic interjections right; most of your attention, you hate to say, is focused on the man opposite you, clearly - to you, at least - upset. the familiar guilt begins to gnaw at your ribcage, and you're thankful when margaret checks her watch and begins to usher you back inside.

matty, though, has other ideas. he touches your elbow, so lightly you barely feel it, and yet your body reacts as if he's punched you. “can i talk to you alone for a minute?”

panicked, you turn towards jack, who nods. “you still have a few minutes. i just need to go in to set up. see you in there!”

shit.

once you're alone with your ex, you move to brace yourself against the wall, folding your arms. “what?”

“why didn't you tell me you were in new york?”

“why would i?”

“well,” matty's voice falters; when he speaks again, it's almost a whisper. “i don't know. maybe we could've, like, gone for a drink. or you could've come down here to hang out.”

“again, why would i?” you tilt your head. “no offence, mate, but hanging out with my ex and his new girlfriend isn't exactly my idea of a fun time. or just hanging out with my ex full stop.”

“thanks for that,” matty grimaces.

you sigh. “look, i know you well enough to be able to read your cryptic fucking subtext. i've been alright, matty, i really have. i've been with friends.”

“you don't have any friends in new york.”

“and how the fuck would you know that? honest to fucking god,” you snap. “i didn't tell you everything about me…”

“i know that well enough.”

“...but, if you must know, one of my friends from home opened an exhibition in tribeca. orla.”

matty nods. “we went to her london opening together before… us, didn't we?”

the memory feels distant, as if from another life, but it hurts all the same. “yeah.”

“i would've liked to have gone to her show here, too. she's good.”

you smile genuinely for the first time, pride for your friend stronger than the fucked up pot of feelings you have towards matty. “it was really something. i helped set it up, actually. was fun.”

“really?” matty laughs; something cracks inside you when he does. “yeah, i can see you being good at that, actually.”

you look at the ground, still smiling, but less now. “been thinking about switching to it full-time. curation and stuff.”

“oh,” matty sounds crestfallen. you peek up at him to find that he looks it, too. “well… if that's what you want to do, i s'pose you should look into it,” he checks the time on his phone, while your heart sinks impossibly deeper. “it's starting soon. i'll head in now, and then if you-”

“wait thirty seconds before i follow you? yeah, i know the drill,” you smile lifelessly. “least you won't have to worry about that if i get a new job, yeah? you'll likely never have to see me again, let alone risk being seen with me.”

“i- anyway,” matty clears his throat, turning quickly away from you. “i should go.”

“okay,” the door closes behind him before you can even get the second syllable out, and there you are, alone again, in the suddenly-cold night air. you shakily exhale your cigarette for the last time, stubbing it out on the wall and stamping the butt with your high heel for good measure; once no trace of the flame remains, you go back inside.

for the rest of the night, part of you wishes you hadn't bothered. while hearing your favourite album is truly, genuinely brilliant, the experience is marred somewhat by your ex sitting in the seat opposite yours with taylor's head on his shoulder: you can't quite lipsync along to this love or clean or you are in love without your lips beginning to tremble, the new song now that we don't talk genuinely makes you nauseous when you figure out the lyrics, and actually hearing matty's voice on a vault track is painful beyond words.

but still, you clap, you fake smiles, you cheer for taylor and jack and the work they've put into the production. it's not easy, though, and you're thankful for the distraction when your phone buzzes with an invitation while you're alone at the drinks table grabbing another champagne.

“now i know you're not about to entertain a man who sent you an i miss you, come over text,” taylor’s voice sounds scandalised from behind you.

you turn, grinning, smile dropping slightly when you see she isn’t alone. “don't worry, i'm taking the piss out of him for it as we speak…”

“good.”

“...but i am gonna go and see him, in a minute,” you finish, looking down at your phone and giggling when you see a reply. “if that's alright, that is.”

matty raises his eyebrows the way he does before he opens his mouth, but taylor beats him to it. “look at you giggling at him! of course! go! but first,” she gently drags you to a nearby sofa and settles onto it, patting the seat beside her; you take it, while matty awkwardly settles himself on a footstool in front of you both. “tell me about him.”

“you really want to know?” you aren't quite sure which of them the question is directed at. taylor nods, and judging by matty's expression he's also curious, so you sigh and keep talking. “well, his name is michael. he's a playwright. we met through friends. he's lived in new york his whole life. he seems slightly obsessed with me, but in a good way - so far, at least. he's very sweet.”

“a playwright? that's cool,” taylor grins. “what does he look like?”

“a bit like andrew garfield, actually,” you laugh, looking down at your phone again. “and he's offering to meet me at a bar, so it's probably time for me to be on my way.”

“sure. have fun, stay safe,” she pulls you into a hug; you see matty wince, out of the corner of your eye. “thank you so much for coming. when do you go back home?”

“not until the end of the month. i don't know if i'm actually going on the festival run, yet,” you shrug. “but i'll go home before it, just in case.”

“it's a lot, isn't it?”

taylor, babe, you don't even know the half of it. “yeah. it won't be easy.”

she hums. “we should hang out before you go. nothing crazy, just dinner or drinks or something. like, something fun, before you have to go back to keeping a record label running,” she nudges matty, who smiles quickly but continues looking at the floor. “i'll call you, okay?”

“that sounds good,” you stretch. “right, i really should go - the bar is a twenty-minute walk from here and i said i'd meet michael in fifteen.”

matty tuts. “he's knowingly letting you walk alone to meet him at half ten at night? no. absolutely not.”

you roll your eyes. “for god's sake, i'll be fine. i'm an adult!”

“yeah, babe, but still,” taylor’s eyes are wide. “take a car! for our peace of mind, at least.”

our. you do your best not to shudder, and smile instead. “if you're sure…”

“she's sure,” matty nods. “get it to take you back to your… whatever it is you're staying in after your drink, too.”

“i mean, i'm going back to his,” you look matty dead in the eye when you say it, and the sadness that fills his is impossible to miss. christ, what is his deal? “but thanks. anyway,” you hug taylor before you stand. “thanks again for tonight. i'll see you soon,” you nod at matty. “and i'll… see you at finsbury, definitely. maybe sooner. i don't know. there'll be an email soon confirming what's happening. bye.”

much to your chagrin, matty stands too. “i'll walk you out. make sure you actually get in the car - i know what you're like.”

for fuck's sake. “alright. bye, taylor!” you wave as you move towards the door.

“bye, babe!”

you walk quickly through the corridors, trying to keep some distance between you and matty. annoyingly, though, he matches your pace, and speaks. “so… michael.”

the vitriol practically drips from his tongue. you scoff. “what about him?”

“tell me more about him. what’s he like?”

“he's my age,” you pointedly don’t look at matty when you say that, but you hear the way his breath catches in his throat. the guilt begins gnawing again; you keep talking to distract yourself from it. “he's ridiculously american, which means he doesn't get my sense of humour sometimes, but as soon as he found out i lived in london he took the piss and started calling me ‘princess’.”

the word leaves your mouth before you can stop it; as soon as it does, you bite the insides of your lips together, guilt spreading to every bone in your body. tentatively, you look round at matty, who's stopped walking in favour of looking at the ground and clasping his hands behind his neck. everything about him radiates hurt, and it only worsens when he quietly speaks. “he calls you what?”

you can't bring yourself to say it again. “you heard me, matty.”

“wish i fucking hadn't,” your ex looks up at you again, and you know he's about to verbally lash out; he looks exactly the same as he did before you split. “you really let him call you that? my name for you?”

“think you lost all rights to that the day you dumped me, to be honest, mate.”

“fucking hate it when you call me that. stop it.”

“well, i'm sure as shit not going to resort to what i used to call you, am i?”

matty laughs mirthlessly. it's the worst sound you've ever heard. “no, you've got michael for that now.”

“no, i haven't,” you're loathe to admit what you're about to say, but you really want him to feel bad. “haven't slept with him yet - or anyone, for that matter, since you broke up with me,” you glance at matty, who looks rightfully sheepish, and decide to just fuck with him even further. “but maybe i will tonight. s'about time i felt good about myself.”

“you know, you've been really fucking snide today. i don't know what i've done to deserve it.”

you stop dead in your tracks, turning to face him in total bewilderment. “well, aside from the whole, y'know, dumping me at the first sign of disagreement, you fucking started it with the arsey comments today, matty. sounds like you? fuck off.”

he shrugs. “but it does. you don't want what i want, so… why bother keeping this going?”

you huff, pushing the door to the staircase open. “i never said i didn't want to get married and have kids, by the way.”

“what? yes you-”

“no, i didn't,” you smile sadly. “all i said was that i was unsure, and because it wasn't me immediately saying yes to something for the first time in our relationship, you took it as a no.”

matty's shaking his head. “no, that-that's not-”

“yes it is, sweetheart,” the tears are beginning to prick at your eyes; matty's too, you can see. “that's what happened.”

“but you freaked out so much…”

“because you sprung it on me, out of the blue! come on, matty,” you can feel your jaw trembling. “you would've done the same, if a partner had asked you that question when you were my age.”

matty sniffles. “please stop bringing up the age gap, darling.”

the pet name enrages you; it's agonising how natural it sounds coming from his lips, and even more painful how automatically your body reacts to it. “well, i can't not, given that it's what fucked us up, in the end,” you take a deep breath, and walk out the side door onto the street. it's fairly quiet, you're relieved to see. “besides - i thought you liked it? that was my appeal, wasn't it? being young, and pretty, and naive, so fucking naive. a meek little toy, something you could play with however you wanted without fear of it rebelling against what you wanted. because that's really all that matters, isn't it, what you want? course it is, because when that was threatened, you stopped wanting me.”

hot tears are hitting your cheeks with increasing speed, but your voice somehow stays strong, unwavering, controlled; the same can't be said for matty, who's crying just as much as you. “no, no, that's not true, not at all, please don't say that.”

“but that's what it feels like,” your voice cracks into a sob. “you didn't even want to talk to me about it. you were just... fine with letting me go. i didn't think you could ever be so cruel to someone you claim to have loved, once, matty. especially not someone who loves you as much as i do,” sniffling, you wipe your eyes and open a car door, quickly telling the driver the address of the bar before turning back to matty. “i appreciate you getting taylor to invite me tonight, but i think it was a mistake; we can't be friends, you and i, we really can't. i'm sorry, it just… hurts,” you check the time. “i need to go. take care.”

it's too warm in the car. you roll the window down slightly. you can hear matty crying from halfway down the street.

[diminuel]

Probably not even a written note just a “hey any word on if [Redacted] has divorced that lowly man?” “Theyre… still a man…” “oh well in that case ask her when she thinks shes gonna be done with that shit too if you see her,”

Shakky and crocodile don’t have any kind of relationship its more an average theyll end up crossing paths once every 5 years or so.

See the worst part would be if Garp ever found out he would be SO smug over being the “good” grandparent and the “good” in-law (which…dragon and crocodile might disagree on. Might be nice if they NEVER SAW HIM) HE only doesn’t like that some pirate harlot ripped Dragon away from the Marines, and that his son knocked up a pirate. Everything else is JUST peaches if you asked him!

I put these two asks together because I think they are in reference to the same thing (i.e Kuja!Crocodile's mom being a dick to him).

Since Warlord meetings seem to take place in Mariejois (at least the one after Crocodile's fall was there) it's possible that even if Crocodile does not go into the New World until after his son's an adult, he might still end up in Sabaody and Shakky's bar on occasion. So I guess that's when he might get updates on what's happening on Amazon Lily. Crocodile doesn't really want to know I guess, because what's lost is lost, do not cry over spilled milk and all that.

Well, I think Garp wins the grandparent award because there just is nobody else that Luffy knows. He might meet his Kuja grandmother once he's on Amazon Lily but I doubt they'd recognize each other unless Luffy does look a lot like Crocodile used to.

I know you probably have your own plots circulating in your head but this kind of makes me want to ponder my Kuja Crocodile universe some more because the potential of Luffy on Amazon Lily (whether he knows who his dad used to be or not) and of Crocodile's return to the island IF he follows Luffy after Marineford is quite nice. And by nice I mean "I can make it angsty" *lol*