#like my left eye was right but my right eye was wrong and it made my right eye turn to shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyubakeries · 2 days ago

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𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘂𝘀 | k.mg

a/n: trust mingyu to do something and completely throw my world off-kilter. i cried after listening to the cover because the song is that meaningful to me. mingyu if i ever meet you i will hug you. and cry. also, thank you skye ( @etherealyoungk ) for entertaining all my ramblings abt this fic <3 shoutout to kae ( @ylangelegy ) because i finished this just to torture u 🙂‍↕️

a BIGGGG thank you to cori ( @seoloquent ), ally ( @lovetaroandtaemin ), lou ( @tusswrites ), rae ( @nerdycheol ) and lexi ( @heechwe ) for beta-reading!! u guys helped me bring the fic together 🫂 ally ( @lovetaroandtaemin ) made this beautiful banner for this fic too!! thank u so much ally <33

and without further ado, glimpse of us gyu!

🏆 this fic is part of the angst olympics collab! check out the main masterlist here <3

word count: 8.1k contents: mingyu x f!reader , photographer!mingyu , heavy angst as u can tell , post break-up , grief , drinking , implied sexual content but nothing in detail , the tragic nature of relationships that crash and burn , mingyu is lowkey an ass , but he's making up for it , the narrative switches between the past and present , flashbacks are in italics , happy ending

it's all wrong.

when mingyu wakes up, a white ceiling presses down on him, the scent of oranges suffocates him, and skin that is brushing against his isn't warm.

he feels uneasy, his skin prickling at all these foreign sensations.

it's all wrong.

he should have been looking up at tattered glow-in-the-dark stickers on a pale blue ceiling. he should have been in the embrace of sweet roses that always managed to make him feel at home. he should have been touching skin that keeps him warm through the coldest winter nights.

he should have done a lot of other things too.

he didn't.

—

"y/n, i know you're in there," comes your best friend's voice. he's teetering on the edge of exasperation, but you can only laugh to yourself.

it's a pathetic sound, and you can only think of when it used to be much happier.

"you better be decent," seungkwan warns, before he's punching in the code to your apartment and letting himself in. the stench of alcohol hits him first, and then his eyes land on you—slumped against the couch, hand clutching an empty bottle of alcohol, and a hazy look in your red-rimmed eyes.

"you promised you wouldn't do this to yourself anymore," seungkwan whispers, biting back all the nagging and scolding when he sees your blank, regretful smile.

"promises aren't a real concept anymore, kwan," you croak out, voice hoarse from all the crying. "they're never real."

you repeat the words like a mantra, sometimes in your head, and sometimes out loud. seungkwan bites his tongue to stop himself from crying in front of you as he helps you get off the floor, drink some water, and sleep in your bed.

"i'll stay the night," seungkwan tells you, already pulling out the air mattress he bought for himself ever since you started drinking to the brink of alcohol poisoning. "tell me if you need anything."

him, you think. i need him. kim mingyu. he's all i’ve ever needed.

seungkwan can read your mind, and he stays silent after that.

you fall asleep without saying anything, and old glow-in-the-dark stars and real laughter haunt your dreams again.

—

it was the most beautiful thing you'd experienced in your life before it became the ugliest.

kim mingyu entered your life like a tornado when he crashed into your car on a sunday morning, four years ago. he left you with a wrecked rear bumper, a rapidly beating heart, his number scrawled across your palm, and a promise of taking you out on a date.

you forgot about the rear bumper quickly after that, and texted the number the second mingyu walked out of the car repair shop.

. . .

you (11:30 a.m.) :

ill be waiting on that date, kim mingyu

mingyu (11:31 a.m.) :

lets go grab brunch together

im still standing right outside

you (11:32 a.m.) :

see you there :)

. . .

it was no surprise that you fell for him as fast as you did.

it was difficult not to. especially when mingyu was the man of your dreams.

he'd hold your hand for every second of your dates, even after you told him your palms get sweaty. he'd remember all the tiny little details about you that only your best friend would know. he'd know exactly what food you dislike, and would never order it for himself either.

mingyu quickly fell for you too.

with every meal at random restaurants. with every movie night spent cuddling under a single blanket. with every touch of your hand, with every press of your lips, with every second he spends with you, he fell.

it took two months after the car crash for mingyu to ask you to be his girlfriend.

when you met seungkwan for your regular catch-up session, you told him about mingyu.

"he's perfect, seungkwan," you sighed dreamily. "i think he's the one."

seungkwan loves it when you're happy, but he hated that you were so blind in your love for mingyu to give all of yourself to him so quickly.

he gave you a silent smile. maybe, just maybe, if you'd taken a moment to reconsider taking things at a slower pace with mingyu, if you hadn't been so swept up in his charming eyes or your strong attraction to him, you would've read the look in seungkwan's eyes.

the look of caution.

—

it's the same look seungkwan is giving you now, as you down your fourth shot of.... something.

"slow down?" you tilt your head, the word feeling unfamiliar on your tongue. "when have i ever taken things slow?"

the night ends the way it ends every other time; seungkwan has to drag you back to your apartment, make sure you don't trip on the unopened boxes of furniture, give you water, and then sleep on the air mattress placed permanently next to your bed.

the next morning starts the way it usually does; you throw your guts up the second your eyes open, and all the wounds the alcohol helped close for you open up once again.

—

back then, despite all of seungkwan's kind warnings, you ignored him. you knew you loved mingyu, and mingyu loved you back. seungkwan never brought up the topic again. he convinced himself that you were an adult, and you knew what you were doing.

for the two years of happiness you spent with mingyu, you thought the same.

it was one of those whirlwind romances people see in the movies.

in month three of your relationship, you shared pieces of your heart with mingyu that you've never shared with other people. you'd fallen in deep.

in month five, you both said i love you to each other. some say it's too soon, but you could only think of how it wasn't soon enough. you fell in deeper.

by month eight, you moved in with him. mingyu started coming home to you cooking him dinner. you'd spend the night washing dishes and then slow dancing in the living room with all the lights turned down low. the two of you kept falling, hurtling downwards rapidly, without any care for when the end might come.

after a year with mingyu, you were already hearing wedding bells and looking up wedding dresses on pinterest.

it's too soon. it's too fast. slow down.

a seungkwan-like voice kept nagging you from the back of your head, but you tuned it out.

what mingyu and you have is true love. true love doesn't need to be taken slow.

—

he's at the club. there's a girl hanging off his arm, her hand splayed across his chest, and the strong scent of lavender makes him want to throw up.

for a second, mingyu almost says, i have a girlfriend, please leave.

but he realises that he doesn't. not anymore.

mingyu forces himself to look at the girl who's been chatting his ear off for an hour, and he feels sick to his stomach when he realises that she isn't you.

no one will ever be you.

still, mingyu finds himself pressed up against her on the dance floor. still, he lets her take him back to her apartment. still, he finds himself touching her.

and still, it's your face, your body, your voice, your presence that haunts him.

mingyu would give up all his senses if it meant that he wouldn't have the image of you burned into the back of his eyelids every time he closes them.

(mingyu’s also a liar, because giving up his senses means giving up the only way he'd be able to see you, now that you've left his life for good.)

—

"will you marry me?" mingyu asks, and the question knocks the air out of your lungs. you're tangled up under the sheets, mingyu's arm draped on your waist, and your leg swung across his hip.

"you're kidding me, right?" you laugh, going back to drawing random patterns on mingyu's skin.

mingyu wordlessly turns around, and you miss the absence of his touch for all of three seconds. you hear him rummaging through the drawer of the bedside table, and for a moment, mingyu's words feel real.

the realization sets in when mingyu turns back to you, a blue velvet box in his hands.

"open it up," he tells you, and with trembling hands, you take the box and open it.

inside, there's a beautiful diamond ring, and your breath hitches in your throat.

"mingyu-"

"i love you, y/n," he cuts you off, and you hear his voice go raspy and high like it does whenever he's on the verge of tears. "you're the only person i've ever felt this strongly for. i know that we've been together only for two years, and people might call me foolish for rushing into things so quickly, but i'm sure of this. this is—you are—all i've ever wanted.."

you feel mingyu shift in bed next to you, and you turn to see him sitting up. he takes your hands in his and pulls you up to sit next to him. he doesn't let go as he takes the ring out from the box and holds it in front of your ring finger.

"i've never been more serious about anything before, so don't think this is just a heat-of-the-moment thing," mingyu says, nervousness seeping into his tone. "y/n, will you marry me?"

think about it. it's only been two years. this is an important decision. take it sl-

"yes."

"yes?" mingyu asks in disbelief.

"yes, mingyu," you nod, tears flooding your eyes. "i will marry you."

the feeling of mingyu slipping the ring onto your finger, the feeling of mingyu pulling you in for a passionate kiss, the feeling of both your hearts intertwining because of this new shift in your relationship outweighs and drowns out the voice of caution in your head.

take it slow.

but it feels so right.

—

"seungkwan, you said you had a friend who asked for my number, right?"

it was a random thursday evening, and seungkwan was at your place, helping you clear out all the boxes in your living room from your shift to a new apartment.

"yeah, his name is wonwoo," seungkwan nods, looking at you with curiosity. "why do you wanna know?"

"you can give him my number," you say, eyes not meeting seungkwan's inquisitive gaze.

"y/n, are you sure?" seungkwan asks, standing up from his corner to go sit next to you. "it's only been five months-"

"you told me i should be moving on, right?" you cut him off. "that's what i'm doing."

"that quickly?" seungkwan questions. "y/n, i know you, so you don't have to pretend to be okay. you guys were engaged, and you expect me to believe that you're ready to see other people? it's not fair to you or wonwoo."

"i know what i'm doing," you sigh. "but fine, if you won't set me up with wonwoo, i can just go find another date. it's not that big of a deal-"

"you still love him," seungkwan states firmly.

you ignore him and continue talking. "i can't just mope around and sulk forever. i need to-"

"you're still in love with kim mingyu, don't even try to deny it, y/n," seungkwan stops you again. "i'm your best friend, and i can see it in your eyes. "

your shoulders droop, and you look at a picture frame you picked up from one of the boxes.

a girl was sitting next to a large window, an oversized hoodie draped over her figure. her face was turned away from the camera, and her long hair fell down her shoulders in messy waves.

it was just a picture, but anyone looking at it would feel warmth, and love. when you looked at it, the feelings once associated with it had gone cold a long time back.

your hands run through your hair, now cut short and barely reaching past your shoulders, and you toss the picture frame into the box labelled 'waste'.

—

click!

you whip your head around to see mingyu crouched on the floor, camera held up to his face, and the lens directed at you.

"gyu! my hair probably looks like a bird's nest now," you whine, realizing that he had taken a picture of you. you get up from the windowsill you were sitting on and go over to your boyfriend.

wanting a peek at his sneaky picture, you grab at his arms to steal a glance at his camera, but your attempts fail as he swiftly dodges all of your attacks. with his long arms, he's able to set the camera out of your reach. however, before you can protest, he picks you up in his arms and kisses you softly.

"good morning, love," he whispers against your lips, and you wrap your arms around his neck tighter.

"i wish you didn't have to go," you mumble, pressing kisses to all of mingyu's face.

"i'll be back before you know it," he assures you with a hint of sincerity in his eyes.

mingyu was leaving for a three-month photography tour he had been invited to. it was an important milestone for him, because it meant that he was finally getting acknowledged in the industry. and as his girlfriend, no, fiancée, you obviously had to support him.

but it didn't mean that you were going to miss him any less.

"you need to text me at least thrice a day, send me loads of pictures, and facetime whenever you're free, got it?" you remind him, and he laughs.

"what if you're asleep when i facetime you?"

"i'll wake up to talk to you," you nod resolutely. "i expect daily updates, kim mingyu."

"yes ma'am," he salutes, and you laugh too.

soon, it's time for mingyu to get into a cab that will take him to the airport, and all you can do is wave goodbye and kiss him deeply before he steps into the car.

"i love you," he tells you, and you mouth the words back to him as the window of the car rolls up.

the cab drives away, and you're left standing on the sidewalk, still wearing mingyu's hoodie.

the first two weeks pass smoothly, with mingyu's incessant texts and calls. aside from the fact that you were sleeping alone in your shared bed, and there wasn't anyone to have your meals with, it almost felt like mingyu had never left.

you get a package at the start of week three. it's from mingyu, and upon opening it, you see that it's a framed picture.

the photograph is black and white, and you recognize it as the picture he had secretly taken of you the morning he left.

a note in the package reads:

'this city is beautiful, but i miss the beauty of having you by my side the most. just a couple more months, and i'll be back. with love, mingyu.'

just two more months, you tell yourself, clutching the frame to your chest.

little did you know, two months was more than enough time for your relationship to come falling apart.

castles made out of sand don't last for long, after all; all it takes is one wave for it to be swept off.

—

"can i get another one of these?" you ask the bartender, gesturing to your empty glass, and he nods. you slump up against the bar again, the events of the evening replaying in your head.

you had finally gone out on a date with a guy from work. he had shown interest in you for a long time, but back then, you had a ring on your finger and the vague promise of a wedding looming over your head.

now, however, you were free to date whomever you wanted.

(if freedom meant living without the one person who your heart longs for the most, you wish you could give it up.)

the date had been a disaster.

the entire time, while the guy kept talking about his interests and his dog, all you could see in front of you was tan skin, pointy canines, a mole decorating the tip of the nose, and the warm smile you loved so dearly.

all you could see was mingyu.

no matter how much you tried, you couldn't get him out of your head. it got to the point where your brain tuned the guy out completely, and for a while, your senses stopped working.

all you could feel was mingyu, mingyu, mingyu.

"i have to go," you had choked out apologetically before rushing out of the restaurant and heading to the nearest bar to get shit-faced.

"why am i so pathetic?" you mutter to yourself, a few hours later, in the back of seungkwan's car. "why can't i stop loving him? even after he hurt me?"

"the heart wants what it wants" seungkwan sighs, glancing back at your limp figure in his car.

"you'll be okay, y/n," he tells you, but you're not sure if you ever will.

everywhere you look, all you see is mingyu.

—

by month two of his photography trip, mingyu had stopped texting as frequently, and that's exactly when everything began to fall apart.

your texts went unanswered for hours, and you would get only a few short replies from mingyu over the span of multiple days, so, eventually, you stopped texting him about your day in detail.

he never answered your calls, so, eventually, you stopped calling him whenever you missed him at night.

and then came the next change: mingyu called you, a week before he was set to come back home, only to tell you that the photographer he's idolized all his life wanted mingyu to join him in america for a month.

"it's the opportunity of a lifetime," mingyu said, voice brimming with excitement. "but if you don't want me to-"

"mingyu, you're going to america," you cut him off. "i'm so happy for you, love. and don't worry about me, i'll manage just fine for another month."

"thank god, i expected you to start crying over the phone," mingyu said with a laugh, and it was probably a joke, but the words stung a little more than they should have. "okay, i gotta go. talk to you later?"

"sure, gyu," you replied, trying to tamp down the momentary sadness you felt. "i love y-"

the line went dead before you could finish, and your heart sunk.

mingyu stops saying that he loves you, so, eventually, you stop saying it too.

—

ten months have passed since the breakup, and you're finally getting a hold on yourself. there are some bad days where you can't even get out of bed without crying your eyes out over the absence of him in your life. but on other days, you manage to shower, make yourself breakfast, go to work, and distract yourself from the fact that you're going home to an apartment that feels strange and unfamiliar; a far cry from the coziness of the home you shared with mingyu.

still, you keep pushing through. it's a new beginning, you tell yourself, even though all you want to do is go back to the past.

you tell seungkwan just as much, and all he says in response is, "remind yourself of why you left, y/n. yes, you loved each other, but maybe love isn't always enough."

so, on a particularly bad sunday morning, that marked five years since the day you had first met mingyu, you let yourself remember exactly why you left him.

you don't leave the bed till later that evening, when you have no more tears left to shed, and the scars of past memories have been etched into your skin all over again.

—

five months. it's been five months since mingyu left for his three-month photography trip, and he's set to come home today.

you spent all morning cleaning the house, calling his mother for his favorite recipes, and putting on his favorite dress, just to make everything perfect.

the last text you had sent him had gone unanswered since the previous night, hence you had no idea what time mingyu's flight would land. you wait the entire day for the apartment door to open, but afternoon shifts to evening, fresh food goes stale, and mingyu still isn't home.

it's close to 1 in the morning when you're awoken by another presence in the living room. you had fallen asleep on the couch after eating instant ramen for dinner, but when you open your eyes, all sleep leaves you in an instant.

"mingyu," you whisper, and your fiance sets down his suitcase and bags, opening his arms up for a hug. you rush to him and hug him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck, dirty airport clothes be damned.

"i missed you so much," you whisper, and mingyu only responds with a kiss to your shoulder. he pulls back first, and you see the exhaustion written all over his face.

"can we talk in the morning?" he asks, giving you a small smile. "i'm really tired now."

"of course," you nod. mingyu kisses your forehead as a small thank you before leaving to shower. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel disappointed when he didn't even hold you in your sleep that night.

it's alright, he's just tired, you tell yourself. and that night, you still shiver in the cold bed, even though mingyu is back in it.

—

the talk never happens the next morning. mingyu leaves for a photoshoot right after breakfast, and you haven't even had the chance to kiss him properly ever since he came back home.

the talk never happens at all. you both move past it, as if the last four months of silence and distance hadn't affected your relationship at all.

it was wishful thinking on your part to think that you and mingyu could bounce back from the last four months unscathed. you tried so hard to not to overthink how mingyu wasn't the same anymore.

he'd work longer hours, and when you asked him about his day, he'd just give you short answers. he'd rarely say the words 'i love you' back to you. his smiles stopped reaching his eyes. his body stopped seeking your touch.

it felt like with every passing day, the chasm that had formed between you and mingyu grew wider, and you had no idea how to cross over it.

one year passes after mingyu proposed, and he never even brings up the wedding.

you delete the wedding pinterest board on your phone.

—

it's been a year since the breakup, and you're driving to meet seungkwan for sunday brunch, when a sudden push from the back jostles you, and you hear the loud crunch of metal.

shit.

you're immediately rushing out of the car to assess the situation. your rear bumper has been completely destroyed, and the owner of the car that bumped into yours is already apologizing frantically, when you realize—

"mingyu?" your voice is a strangled thing as you bring your eyes up to look at the man standing in front of you.

he seems just as shocked as you, his face immediately turning pale and his eyes widening almost comically.

"it's- it's you," the words fall from mingyu's lips, and you feel your eyes fill up with tears embarrassingly quickly. you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying in front of your ex, and keep your tone calm and composed as you say, "don't worry about the bumper, i'll take care of it. bye."

you're turning away to get back into the safety of your car to cry your heart out, but mingyu stops you.

"y/n, can we talk? please?" he pleads, and you shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to meet his. you're afraid of what you might do if you look into his eyes again.

"there's nothing to talk about, mingyu," you shake your head. "we- whatever was there between us is over now."

"so we don't have to talk about the fact that you packed your things up, put your ring on the kitchen counter, and left my life? without any explanation?" mingyu presses, and you gather the courage to face him.

you regret your decision to do so, because all you can think about when you look at him is that one day, a year ago, when you decided to leave.

—

it's a random tuesday morning — or maybe it's thursday, you're not sure. ever since your relationship with mingyu started feeling more like a connection shared by strangers rather than lovers, the days seemed to be bleeding together.

mingyu is all over the apartment, his formal shirt untucked and not fully buttoned, socks mismatched, and his movements rushed. he goes into the bedroom to get a tie, then goes into the closet to get his shoes, goes back into the bedroom because he forgot his watch, and the process continues.

you sit on the couch, scrolling through your emails and not paying attention to mingyu. maybe a year ago, you would have joined in on the chaotic mess, but right now, mingyu's groans of frustration are nothing but annoying to you.

"y/n, have you seen my watch? the new one?" mingyu asks, approaching your figure on the couch.

you simply shrug your shoulders, looking up at him for a moment and shaking your head. "you keep telling me not to touch your stuff, so i wouldn't know."

mingyu bristles at your response. "why do you sound so petty? the only reason i told you that is because you misplaced my memory card!"

"it was empty! it wasn't like you lost any of the photos on it," you bite back. "and it was a mistake, mingyu. i'm human.”

mingyu pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply to calm himself down. "fine, let's forget about that. could you please just tell me where the watch is?"

"i don't know where it is, mingyu," you repeat, going back to your phone.

"well, would it kill you to get off the fucking couch and help me find it?" mingyu snaps. "you know that i have an important event to attend. why are you being so difficult?"

"maybe i don't want to help!" you retort. "you just use me as some personal assistant who makes you meals, does the laundry and makes sure everything is in perfect condition for you. it's like i'm not your fiancée anymore!"

"you know what, i don't have time for this," mingyu fumes. "you're being unreasonable, and i don't know why-"

"you don't have time for me at all, anymore," you scoff. "it's always events, meetings, shoots. you're going ahead in your career but you're leaving me behind."

"that is so selfish of you!" mingyu lashes out. "do you expect me to drop my career and spend all my time with you?"

"i expect you to at least acknowledge my presence, mingyu!" your voice cracks with the weight of the past year suffocating you. "i've always supported your career. i've always wanted the best for you, but you just discarded me to the side! do you know how pathetic it feels?"

mingyu's expression falters, realization flickering in his eyes. "y/n, i didn't- i never wanted you to feel like that, i-"

"i've had enough of your excuses," you stop him. "i've had enough of this mingyu. just- just go attend your event, okay?"

mingyu gulps, the guilt flooding his body. "let's talk when i get home? please, y/n."

you don't give him an answer, and before mingyu can plead again, he gets a call from his assistant, who informs him that he needs to leave as soon as possible.

"i have to leave now, but i'll come back and we'll sort this out, yeah?" mingyu tells you, having calmed down significantly. "i'll see you later, y/n. i- i love you."

the last three words are like a knife twisting in your gut. you can only watch as mingyu hastily finishes getting ready and leaves the house. the second the door shuts behind him, you go into the bedroom and start packing all your clothes and shoes into suitcases.

you stuff in some other important things, like documents, pictures, jewellery, everything you brought with you when you moved into mingyu's house.

you leave behind the pink fuzzy slippers that had a matching blue pair. you leave behind the ugly paper mache statue you made with him. you leave behind the matching 'his' and 'hers' mugs you both drank coffee from.

you leave behind the engagement ring on the kitchen counter.

you walk out the door in two hours, both your ring finger and heart empty.

—

you snap back into the present, where mingyu's frame is still towering over you.

"i thought that argument was all the explanation you needed," you mutter indifferently, trying to tamp down the tears that were trying to escape.

"it wasn't, y/n. it just left me confused and-"

"then imagine how i felt," you let out a dry laugh. "imagine how i felt when you came back home from your photography trip and didn't say a word about all the missed calls and unanswered texts. when you never brought up our wedding and kept me waiting for some shitty happy ending i wanted with you. you left me in the dark, like i was nothing but some old childhood toy you shoved away in the attic to collect dust."

"that trip changed a lot of things for me too, y/n,” mingyu shoots back. “i was reaching the peak of my career, and it kept making me question whether i was ready to settle down then. i was scared and confused because i had never felt for someone the way i felt for you, but i also wasn’t sure if us getting married that quickly was going to be a good choice.”

"why didn’t you think about all this before you proposed?" you argue. "and why did you never talk to me about any of this? we would’ve figured out something that worked for the both of us."

"y/n, i-"

the loud honk of a car behind the both of you interrupted mingyu, and you take that as a cue to leave the conversation.

"look, we're past all the excuses now," you look away from mingyu. "what we had is in the past, and we both need to move on."

"i can't," mingyu says, and those two words knock the breath out of your lungs. you turn around to look at him again, hoping to find some ounce of a lie in his words, but the look in his eyes says it all.

he isn't lying.

"i've tried moving on, y/n. i've tried to forget you but it never works. i've tried so hard, but no one is you. i'll never love anyone as much as i love you, and that scares me," mingyu chokes out.

the car is still honking, but you can't seem to move from your spot.

"you'll- you'll move on someday," your voice is shaky and barely sounds convincing to even you. you don't know whether your heart is happy or broken at what mingyu just said.

"i know i won't, because what i feel for you is true love," he says with conviction. "y/n, our relationship may have been brief. we may have taken things too fast and fizzled out, but i know my feelings are real."

"how can you say that? we only hurt each other in the end," you shake your head. "it can't be true love if both of us ended up with broken hearts."

"my heart still hurts every day when i wake up and realize you're not there," mingyu sighs. "i still make two cups of coffee, and one goes down the drain because you're not there. i still call out your name when i can't find my goddamn keys, but you're not there. it still hurts so much, even after all this time has passed.'

"and i know i was the one at fault," mingyu continues. "i haven't stopped beating myself up about how stupid i was to ignore you and your needs like that. i wish i had admitted the truth to you, and i regret not doing that every day. god, y/n, i cry myself to sleep every night thinking about our wedding and how i was the one who went and ruined it all."

the tears finally spill, and by now the car has already turned around to take another route. your chest heaves with how much you're crying, and you realize that you should’ve reached out to mingyu too.

you waited and waited for mingyu to say something, but you never said anything either. you pretended that everything was okay when it really wasn't. maybe if you'd said something-

"stop, i know what you're doing in there," mingyu breaks your train of thought. "you- don't blame yourself. relationships end and hearts break, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve a second chance."

"mingyu, i- i don't know how i can trust you again," you speak, your voice hoarse. "you said it yourself. we- we crashed and burned. we hurt each other with our love, and i can't go through that heartbreak again."

"let me earn it back," mingyu pleads. "let me make up for my mistakes, y/n. i'd die regretting losing you without having a chance to tell you how sorry i am for doing that to you."

there's two voices in you.

one tells you to let down your walls and let mingyu in again.

the other one curls up in your lungs and it tastes like the bitter alcohol you drank almost every night to forget mingyu. it tells you that you're going to get your heart broken again.

a third voice breaks through the noise, and it's mingyu.

"please, y/n. let me make things right," his voice has dropped to a whisper, and the conflict in your mind stops.

"i'll consider it, if you pay to get the rear bumper fixed."

—

"what if we break up some day?" you ask mingyu when he brings up plans of growing old with you in the countryside of france.

"we've been dating for a year and you're already thinking of breaking up with me?" mingyu gasps, which makes you giggle. "i'm hurt, babe. i'd never do that to you."

"but what if you did? or if i hurt you?" you ask, the question not wanting to leave your mind. "everyone tells us we're going too fast. that we're going to crash. what happens then?"

mingyu exhales deeply before turning to face you. he cups your face with his hands and looks deep into your eyes.

"even if we end up crashing, even if we end up leaving each other, i promise to find you again," he says sincerely. "if it's my fault, i'll apologize till my last breath, till i know that you've forgiven me. and if it's your fault, well — as long as you show up in my life again, i'll forgive you."

"that's not fair to you," you laugh. "you shouldn't let me off the hook that easily."

"to be honest, i would," mingyu disagrees. "because i know that staying away from you would kill me. if you ever decide to come back into my life, i'll welcome you with open arms. i'd rather be hurt with you by my side than die a slow death without you."

"you're so sappy," you roll your eyes. "i hope you know that i won't forgive you that easily."

"i told you, i'd spend all my life making it up to you if i ever hurt you," he vows. "what we have is true love, y/n. it only comes around once. i'll be damned if i ever lose you."

in that moment, you hadn't thought much about mingyu's words. but little did you know, that somewhere down the line, mingyu would really keep his promise to win your trust back.

—

it's been eight months since mingyu crashed into your life all over again, and this time around, you've really taken things slow.

he's still working on gaining your trust back, which you appreciate, because it assures you that he truly means his apology and that he's here to stay.

this time around, you feel hopeful. maybe, if your heart heals, you'll try again. you love him too much not to at least try once more.

on a tuesday evening, just as you reach home from work, you get a text.

. . .

mingyu (7:15 p.m.) :

you free friday evening?

you (7:37 p.m.) :

yeah i am

why?

mingyu (7:38 p.m.) :

i have an exhibition for my photos on that day

it wouldnt feel right without you there

you (7:50 p.m.) :

i'll be there

mingyu (7:51 p.m.) :

thank you :)

. . .

—

the exhibition gallery is packed with people as you walk into it on friday evening. you feel a little overdressed in your wine red, knee-length dress amidst a crowd of people wearing sweatshirts and jeans.

still, you walk forward confidently, you find yourself getting captivated by the sheer magnitude of the exhibition.

there's large displays of streets in different cities bathed in the warm light of the moon, birds soaring in the sky, random people going about their daily lives, and so many small, unseen moments that mingyu always had the knack for capturing.

the composition of all the photographs makes you stare at them in awe. mingyu is extremely observant, which allows him to focus on the finer details others would skip over. paired with meticulous editing, the final photographs are nothing short of stunning.

you spend a lot of time with each frame, reading the captions mingyu has penned down for each of them. you're so engrossed in each picture that you don't even realize that the crowd in the gallery has come to a stop in front of one particular frame.

you try your best to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the photo, but to no avail. finally, when some of the crowd clears out, you move closer, and then the world stops.

it's the picture you tried to throw out but ended up keeping it on your nightstand. it's the picture you had received in a package from mingyu when he was away.

it was the last picture he had taken of you.

tears pool in your eyes rather quickly, and you walk closer to the picture of you displayed on the wall. it's huge in size, bigger than all the photos, as if this is the one mingyu wanted everyone to see. the one mingyu loved the most.

and it's titled — her.

'the last photo of this exhibit is a picture i clicked of my muse. before her, photography never had an end goal for me. all i did was click pictures of whatever i saw. after her, i began looking for pieces of her in every sight i took in. i tried to capture the warmth of her smile, depth of her love, glow of her presence, and the special feeling she stirs in me. everywhere i go, i find a glimpse of her, and every picture i take till my last breath, she will be the inspiration behind it.'

there's the sound of a mic coming to life, and you whirl around to see a tall figure standing on stage.

he's dressed in a pressed black shirt and slacks, the sleeves rolled up, hair parted to perfection, and posture confident.

but only you can find a glimpse of fear in his eyes.

it melts away when they meet yours.

"good evening everyone, my name is kim mingyu, and i would like to thank all of you for attending my exhibition," he speaks into the mic, and the crowd bursts into loud applause.

"as you all know, photography is not only my career, but my passion. it's what i live for. last year, however, was a rough patch for me. i lost all interest in photography. i hadn't touched my camera in months. it was like the colors of the world had faded away," his voice, although confident, sounds a bit shaky. his eyes are still locked onto yours, almost as if every word’s meant only for you.

"people told me that it was normal to feel that way. maybe it was burnout, or maybe the reality that photography was just a hobby. but, only i knew the real reason all along. all artists have a muse, without which it becomes difficult to breathe life into their art. i too have a muse. she is the reason i'm here today and able to show you what i've done."

"last year, i went into a slump because she left my life. it was my fault; i was too caught up in the lens of my camera to notice that i was hurting her," mingyu's voice is strained and raspy, and you know that tone all too well. sure enough, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears, but he powers on.

"for that one year without her, i lost all my drive and creativity. i couldn't look for the details in nature because my vision felt blurry. it felt like she had taken a part of me with her when she left. by some stroke of luck, i found her again. and this may sound cliche, but, the second i saw her, it felt like the world existed in technicolor again."

"she's here tonight, even though i don't deserve it, even after everything i put her through, and this time, i want to show her that i've changed. that i don't care about all these pictures, not if i don't see her in them. that one day, if she'll ever forgive me, if she'll ever give me another chance, i won't let her down."

you're sure that your makeup is ruined by how much you're crying, and there's a few tears streaming down mingyu's face too. the crowd is muttering sadly, wondering who the girl could be, but no one in that room will ever know that it's you.

"my muse, this exhibition is my whole heart, and tonight, i give it to you. you can take your time to accept it, i'd wait a lifetime for you anyway. and to everyone who attended, thank you once again."

as mingyu steps off the stage, you can only hope he doesn’t notice you slipping out of the gallery and into the cold night.

—

when you hear the door to the terrace you snuck into open, you think that it’s a security guard telling you the location is off-limits.

you turn around to apologize, but your breath catches in your throat when you see mingyu standing there, tear tracks similar to yours glistening under the pale moonlight.

“mingyu, i-”

“i thought you left,” he chokes out, and your heart squeezes uncomfortably. “you were there the entire time i was speaking, but then you were gone, and i thought that it was done for good. i thought it was the last time i’d see you, and i felt so scared.”

you can see how his chest is heaving, and his shoulders are lined with tension. there’s this urge in you to close the gap between you two so that you can take that stress away.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve told you before i left,” you gulp nervously. “i just- i needed some air.”

“i’m sorry too, for springing all that on you,” mingyu says. “i just had to tell you everything, even if you wouldn’t forgive me at the end of it all.”

“did you mean everything you said tonight?” your voice is quiet, almost as if you're hoping mingyu won't hear you and your words will disappear into the air.

“of course i did,” mingyu replies without skipping a beat. “everything i did before you and after you has no meaning, because you weren't there. our love was what inspired me the most. it's the truth, y/n.”

you take a moment to process his words, letting the weight of them fully land on you. seeing you go silent, mingyu steps forward, his eyes searching yours.

“if i- if i asked for you to forgive me, for you to give me a second chance, would you say yes?”

you already know the answer, but you bite your tongue to stop yourself from blurting it out. you pretend to think about it, as if mingyu can't read your expression.

“i never stopped loving you,” is what you say. “even when we weren't talking for a whole year after the photography trip. even after we broke up. even now, after you came back into my life. i've never stopped loving you, mingyu, but you're still the person who broke my heart.”

you can sense mingyu about to apologize again, so you bring your hand up to stop him.

“you're the one who broke my heart, but you're also the one my heart wants. the only one,” letting these words out makes the burden on your shoulders feel lighter, but the tension of the moment still remains heavy. “and that's what scares me. because even if you break my heart again, i'll still love you. i don't think i know how not to.”

“i won't, y/n,” mingyu shakes his head. “i won't make that mistake again. i just want to earn your trust again and show you that i'll be better to you. we can take it slow and figure things out, but-”

“fuck taking things slow,” you cut him off. at some point during the whole conversation, your bodies have gravitated towards each other, and mingyu is close enough for you to reach out and cover his mouth with a hand.

“it doesn't matter if we go slow or fast, i just want you,” you tell him, looking into his eyes so he knows that you're speaking the truth. “i want us to work out this time.”

mingyu's eyes widen with surprise, and he gingerly lifts your hand off his mouth.

“do you really mean that?” his voice trembling.

“i forgave you a long time ago, mingyu,” you let out a laugh, eyes welling up with tears. “i forgave you when you paid for wrecking my rear bumper. again. i just needed time to know that this was real. that we wouldn't crash and burn again. and tonight really sealed it for me. i could see it in your pictures, mingyu. i could see how much love you look at the world with. back then, i thought that your love for photography was more than what you felt for me, but now i know that it's not true.”

“my love for you is what makes me love capturing the world in my lens,” mingyu completes. “i'm sorry i had made you feel otherwise.”

“we're done with the apologies now,” you shake your head. “let's leave the past in the past and start afresh. does that sound good?”

“i guess i'll have to crash your car one more time, then,” mingyu jokes, and you laugh. this time it's a loud, genuine sound; one mingyu had missed hearing. one you had missed hearing.

“maybe let's find a less destructive way?” you giggle, but it quickly turns into a gasp when mingyu cups your face with his hands.

“as long as it's with you, i don't mind anything,” mingyu says, and then you see it.

a look of sincerity and hope flashing across his face. you know it for sure, because you feel the exact same way.

mingyu's eyes flick down to look at your lips, still hesitating to make a move.

“just kiss me already,” you sigh, and mingyu doesn't waste another second. with one swift movement, he's swooping you in for a kiss. a kiss so soft, yet so deep, it makes you feel like you're floating amongst the stars in the night sky looking down at love blossoming again.

when mingyu pulls away, you're both breathless for a few minutes, the reality of the moment sinking in.

the moment doesn't need any more words or touches. you can see everything you need to know in his eyes, and you hope he can read yours too.

its unmistakable; the glimpse of love that you see in him.

you feel yourself falling all over again, hurtling towards an end that may catch you by surprise, but this time it doesn't feel daunting.

not when you know that mingyu will be there to catch you.

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rollingeevee · 2 days ago

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good god your bite post has invaded my mind and it hasn't left since i read it, it's spinning in my brain like in a microwave

all i can think about is shadow milk's little (prey) lover running away and getting somewhat far, thinking they're actually getting away with it until the bite's effects kick in and suddenly it's so hard to think and move and where were they going anyway? what if they just sat down and stared into space for a while? that would feel nice, right?

the magic oozing from the bite squeezing their brain and soul, making everything feel heavy and fuzzy until shadow milk just strolls by, clicks his tongue, teases them a little for trying to leave and goes to pick them up and bring them back

there's no kicking and screaming, they cannot muster up the mental strength to do it, just slight bitter resignation on their part as they can do nothing but accept their fate and perhaps try again at a later date but there's a little voice at the back of their head that doesn't understand why they were running away in the first place, a voice that urges them to melt into their captor's touch (totally not shadow milk's doing guys no it's all you)

mental and magical manipulation? it's more likely than you think!

bonus points if the bite mark's pain gets duller/softer when they behave for their beast

anyway thank you for sharing your thoughts your writing is amazing and if you have more ideas related to the bites i am begging i am on my knees-

AAAAAA I’m so glad to hear you liked it so much! 😭 /VVVPOS

Ooooooo! I quite like this! I can definitely see smth similar happening! Personally tho, I see Shadow Milk taking a more manipulative approach to when he finds his lil runaway darling again. I wrote a lil blurb below to showcase :)

The further you got from the Spire, the more relief you felt. By the Witches… you’d done it! You were free!

You suddenly let out a choked gasp as you feel an incredibly painful tightening sensation in your chest. You fall to your knees, clutching at your heart. Your mind is empty as your body feels like it is being squeezed, your breath continuously escaping, despite your desperation to pull in air.

“Oh, goodness!” You hear his voice exclaim. “What happened to you, doll?”

What happened? What happened?! What… what did happen…? You were running… Yes, you were running from the Spire! But… why…?

Shadow Milk Cookie tuts sympathetically as he gently scoops you into his arms. “Oh, poor dear… Did you get lost? I told Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie to keep an eye on you and ensure your safety!” He cradles you close to his chest as he makes his way back to the Spire. “Don’t worry, dollface~ Your darling jester, Shadow Milk Cookie, has arrived to save the day! I’ll make sure to get you back home where you belong in no time!” He finishes his declaration with a sweet kiss to your neck, where you can faintly detect a throbbing pain that seems to ease in response to his affection.

Where you belong…? Yes… Yes, right back where you belong… That’s a nice thought…

So why is your heart crying out that something is wrong…?

WEEEEEE! So yes, I can definitely see manipulation being there (it’s Shadow Milk, whaddya expect?), but I can see the magic from the bite invading the mind as it simultaneously attacks the body. You weren’t running for freedom, you just got lost while playing a game. Luckily, your sweet Beast, Shadow Milk Cookie, was able to find you in time before anything terrible could happen to you~! So stay, where it’s safe, and where you’re always within arms reach~

In addition to that, I love the idea of the pain getting duller and duller the more a Beast’s darling behaves for them! I added onto that a lil and made it so that, in addition to that, the only other way for the pain to dull is from direct affection to the bite area by the Beast. This gives further incentive to the darling to be well behaved and compliant for their Beast.

I may try to do lil snippets or one shots for each of the Beasts and their bites going into effect later on, given how much people seemed to like them, but we’ll see! I hope you enjoyed this tho! :D

#Eevee Answers #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #Beast Bites #crk x reader #Cookie Run Kingdom x Reader #Cookie Run Kingdom

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peachdues · 2 days ago

Text

Coalescence?? What are you doing here??

Levi had a tendency to engage in what you rather irritably referred to as mother hen-ing. It was bad enough when he was dealing with the Scouts in those rare, precious moments of calm before the next excursion that would inevitably end in blood and lost comrades. Levi would fawn over them, picking at their nutrition choices, the state of their uniforms, all under the guise of berating them. Only you seemed aware that his nagging came from a place of genuine concern, his eyes perpetually tight with worry.

He’d been like that with you and your own regiment as a Scout; as you’d risen through the ranks, however, his razor sharp attention to you seemed to dull, his attentions better turned to the incompetent dunces who he claimed couldn’t tell left from right.

Even when the two of you had struck up your clandestine affair, you’d assumed he wouldn’t slip back into old habits, if nothing else for the sake of keeping up the appearance of non-chalance, where you were concerned.

How fucking wrong you’d been. While he may not have called you out directly in front of too curious Corps’ members or even the overly-attuned eyes and ears of your Squad Leader, in private, Levi was fussier than a bored grandmother. Every bruise was a shattered bone, every knick, a gaping open wound mere seconds away from turning gangrenous. Some nights, he wouldn’t touch you the way you so desperately longed for, too fixated on making sure each and every injury was assessed and addressed before launching into a lecture about safety and staying vigilant. Like you’d made it this long in the Survey Corps by accident.

And now that he was aware of his impending fatherhood, Levi seemed committed to upping his own ante.

The moment you opened your eyes, you were greeted with a mug held mere centimeters from your face.

“Drink this.”

You blink, groaning as you adjust to the morning light streaming brightly through Levi’s small window. “Good morning to you, too.” You rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your bandaged hand. “What time is it?”

“Hn. Late.” The bed dips as Levi settles on its edge, near your upper thigh. “After the last few days, I thought you’d need the rest.”

A sly smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “After last night, you mean.” Your gaze drops and you see that he’s already fully dressed in his uniform, not a single loose thread or wrinkle in sight. “Glad to see even a pregnant girlfriend isn’t enough to keep you in bed.”

Levi’s pretty lips settle into a faint smirk. “My pregnant girlfriend is exactly the reason I’m up. She needs to drink her vitamins.” He nudges the mug toward you, insistent. “Bottom’s up.”

You wrinkle your nose as the steam rising from the cup fans over your face. “It smells awful.”

“Don’t give a shit. It’s good for you — for both of you.”

#this one is for all of you who came here for my levi content only to be left sorely disappointed #levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader

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abbysgolf-club · 2 days ago

Text

✧STAR GIRL✧ -

pitfighter!vi x afab!reader

MDNI

okay... this is disgusting, double penetration r! receiving, oral and fingering r!receiving, boob play, strap usage, strap referred to a Vi's dick, top!vi, bottom!reader, alcohol usage, pet names - not proof read lmk if i missed anything.

chat i'm a bottom vi truther, but. pitfighter vi is a top and you cannot prove me wrong. anyway this is pure filthy smut so

You'd been to every one of her fights without fail. You'd go to the bar afterwards in hopes that you'd find her, but whenever you did she was too drunk to function or in a fight. Was it wrong that you wanted her to punch you in the face, make you bleed and cry just so she could see her ethereal reflection in your blood and tears? probably. But that didn't change anything.

You were sat at the bar, right in Vi's usual spot, whirling your drink around in your cup staring at it as if it was going to speak to you. A voice rang in your ears, the sound coming from right behind you.

"Can i help you?" the voice spoke, clearly unimpressed. You turned around to be faced with Vi, her black makeup smudged over her face, knuckles bandaged up and bloody. "You're in my seat, cupcake." she continued, arms folding over her chest as she stared down at you.

You stared back at her, unable to form words. She looked even better up close.

"You look like a deer in headlights. You gonna say something or ya just gonna sit and stare?" she spoke again, frustration evident on her face, along with something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You cleared your throat, standing up from your seat. "Right.. yeah- i was just going to ask if i could uh.. buy you a drink?.." you spoke finally. Your voice wobbled as if your vocal cords shook anxiously when you spoke.

Vi raised an eyebrow, her eyes tracing your figure carefully. She shrugged, responding with a nonchalant tone. "Sure, why not." She sat down in the seat you were just in, waiting for you to sit next to her.

You were both a few drinks in now, slightly slurring words but still coherent enough to know what was going on.

"Come back to my place." Vi spoke, standing out of her chair and taking your hand, pulling you with her. She spoke like it was a command and not a question. Who were you to complain? You'd been waiting for this moment for weeks - no months.

Vi dragged you out of the crowded bar, her arm wrapping around your waist possessively. You both stumbled your way to her apartment, climbing up the raggedy steps that seemed extremely unsafe. Her apartment smelled like beer, dust and a cheap cologne.

"Ignore the mess.." Vi mumbled, kicking things out of the way so you didn't trip and fall over empty bottles.

You sat down on the poorly stacked mattresses, Vi walking over with a sly smirk on her face; crawling on top of you and sitting on your lap.

"You're so gorgeous, so perfect.." she muttered, leaning down and leaving small kisses in the crook of your neck, earning soft whimpers from you. "So sensitive aswell.." she continued, her kisses turning into bites; leaving purple hickeys over your neck. Her lips made their way down your collar bone, tugging at your shirt to take it off; her hands reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Her thumbs rubbed over your swollen nipples, her tongue giving them a lick each.

Vi's hands traced your stomach, her fingers fiddled with the buckle on your jeans, she peeled them off of you painfully slowly. You laid there in front of her, the only thing left on your body being your red thong.

Vi smiled as she looked at you, her hands gently laid on your knees and pulled your legs apart; giving room for her face between them.

"Is this okay, cupcake?" she asked from between your legs. You nodded - but this wasn't enough for Vi. "Use your words." her tone more harsh than before, her grip on your thighs tightening. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you respond.

"Fuck - yes, yes Vi this is okay." You practically moaned, squirming under Vi's touch. Pushing yourself closer to her face, wanting her tongue to touch your clit.

Vi noticed your eagerness, pushing your thong to the side and shoving her face into your cunt, her tongue lapping you like there was no tomorrow. She ate you out like a starved woman, like she was on death row and this was her final meal. Every flick of her tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could cum there and then. She continued to apply pressure with her tongue, one of her hands leaving your thighs and bringing two fingers up to your entrance; pushing them in - exploring every angle inside you. She curled them up, hitting the sweet spot inside you multiple times over, bringing you to the edge before she pulled away completely.

You whined and pleaded for her to come back, but before you knew it she'd flipped you over face down into the mattress.

"Can you be a good girl and take it for me?" She asked as she brought the thick silicone strap up to your entrance. Before you could respond, you felt her push it in, inch by inch. Stretching out your cunt perfectly.

Vi smirked as she watched your pussy clench around her, she couldn't actually feel what was going on but she could - spiritually.

The room filled with lewd moans from both of you as Vi drilled herself into you with no remorse.

"Look so pretty wrapped around my dick, so fucking perfect" she grunted between moans, slowing her thrusts down slightly, bringing two of her fingers to your entrance, along with the strap.

"Think you can take more, take everything i have to give you?" she spoke as she pressed her two fingers inside you; stretching you out even more - if that was possible.

She continued her thrusts, pathetic whines and whimpers of pain and pleasure leaving your lips, your eyes watering having you on the verge of tears. It felt so good. You didn't realise it could get better. Vi reached her free arm round, rubbing your clit as she fucked you, your hands gripped the sheets as your legs shook, your moans louder than before. Vi continued to fuck you, allowing you to ride out your high before she pulled out and watched you fall sideways onto the mattress.

"You look even better all fucked out like that." Was the last thing you heard before you passed out, your head spinning and eyes fluttering shut.

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katuschka · 2 days ago

Text

Stargazers

Jake Kiszka x f!reader 1.560 words

/#gvfvalentines2025 – watching the stars/

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): disappointment, Valentine's dinner gone wrong, tension, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, tears, descriptions of vast spaces, comfort

“Please, just stop it already. I’m here. We’re here. It’s a date. Could you at least stop making those faces?” Jake downed his glass of wine and huffed through his nose. Now it was him making faces.

I tried, but I couldn’t help it. No matter how much I tried to rationalize it and just enjoy myself, I felt disappointed. And – seeing his annoyed face and seeming lack of understanding – almost miserable. He took me to a fancy restaurant – something which I never insisted on. What I really wanted was to spend the day with him. One whole day. Just once! I made the plans, I bought the tickets! All he had to do was to show up. And he did not.

And thus we ended up eyeing each other sourly over a candlelit dinner. The food was delicious, but we lost our appetite.

“You know, I even took a day off,” I mumbled reproachfully, while trying to murder the caramelized pear with my fork.

Jake leaned back on his chair and started tapping his fingers on the table. Clearly, I was making him uneasy. Well, good…

“I already apologized. It was an emergency meeting.”

“Jake, you’re a rock musician, not a member of a war committee. And the planetarium was much more important than this.” I should have gone alone. If he can prioritize his own obsessions and hobbies, so should I. I had been making compromises all the time.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I screwed up. I tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let me. And you know I’m not really into this kind of stuff.”

By ‘this kind of stuff’ he meant conventional romantic gestures, no doubt. The problem is that I never demanded it in the first place.

My eyes fell on the bouquet of blood red roses that lay on the table on my right. They were pretty, but I could do without them. What’s the point, anyway? What is it supposed to symbolize… to kill a flower? I already mourned how they would inevitably fade under my watch. Jake knew this about me, and therefore I knew it was a last minute, panicked purchase. “But that’s the point Jake. Me neither. I don’t need expensive wine, and I don’t need you to dress up like that… you look fantastic, by the way.” It made him smirk, but he refused to look at me, and my heart sank. I definitely didn’t want to make him feel like nothing was good enough for me. I just wanted him to understand. “All I wanted was to watch the stars with you,” I added mournfully.

The sentimental confession contained in that last sentence was like opening the door to all the feelings I had been trying to suppress all day or maybe even longer. I felt suddenly overwhelmed. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.” I left the table perhaps too quickly, but I didn’t want him to see me like that, on the verge of tears. I still wasn’t completely sure they were justified, because Jake DID try to make it right. He DID apologize, and made amends. I just still felt that way.

When I came back, composed enough to at least try to save the rest of the evening, I found our table already cleared and him standing next to it. I internally braced myself for another round of this passive-aggressive emotional fight, but he just smiled and offered me his hand.

“Are we leaving? What is this?”

“It’s a surprise. Just please, come with me.” He simply led me to his car, opened the door for me and soon we were on our way to god knows where. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me, just mumbled something about Josh ��mentioning it once and then he remembered’… It didn't make much sense.

We drove for nearly an hour, leaving the city far behind, spending the whole time pretty much in silence. It was a pleasant kind of quiet, though. Jake was humming something that sounded a bit like Bowie and I just got lost in my thoughts. It was a clear, cloudless night and the muffled sound of the engine almost lulled me to sleep. I barely noticed that we exited the highway…

Jake suddenly stopped in the middle of some field road pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Confused, I watched him turn off the lights, unfasten his seatbelt and get out of the car. He obviously expected me to do the same, because when I didn’t move, he walked around the vehicle and once again opened the door for me.

“Jake…? You know, if you wanted to get rid of me, you could have just dumped me,” I tried to joke, but I think I must have looked and sounded alarmed, because he took and kissed my hand with a wicked smirk before he motioned to me to follow him outside the car.

“Nothing like that baby, I’m simply fulfilling your wish.”

I understood what he meant the moment I straightened and looked around… or looked up, to be more precise, since there was nothing around to look at anyway. The sight took my breath away. We were far away from the city lights, so light pollution was significantly lower here. There were almost no trees around. Above us only sky, as the wise man once sang.

Have you ever really looked at the night sky? I mean REALLY looked at it, as in trying to understand what you’re actually seeing… I’m pretty much a city girl, so my new and growing fascination with the Universe was based mostly on books and documentaries so far. I had seen the stars before, of course, but that was mostly just a few shiny dots on black nothing. The sea of wonders that was now extending above me took my breath away completely.

All those feelings I had had while learning about planets and supernovas, quasars and different galaxies, it was all multiplied now as I watched the indescribable vastness of space with mixed feelings of awe and happiness and dread…

“Jake…,” I whispered, “this is so beautiful.” My eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness around us, so when I looked at him, I could make out the outline of his profile, illuminated only by the tiny lights above.

“I knew you’d like it… oh! Wait a minute.” He let go of my hand and disappeared behind the car, only to return a moment later with binoculars and a blanket that he kept folded up under his right arm.

“It’s not much, but better than nothing. I tried it once…,” he tried to explain as he handed me the binoculars. “See the Pleiades there? We can see just seven of them with the naked eye, but try this.”

I did… and gasped. It felt almost like discovering a brand new reality. I must have spent a few whole minutes staring just at that one “tiny” spot.

We were not dressed for an outdoor trip like that and I felt my heels sinking into the half frozen, muddy road. I started shivering too. Jake unbuttoned his coat and wrapped us both in it before he spread out the blanket with one swish of his arm and threw it over us.

I leaned against him and rested my tilted head on his shoulder. It gave Jake an easy access to my exposed neck and he planted a soft kiss on my jugular, making me shiver again.

“It’s funny how many cute names those coincidental star clusters have… Seven Sisters. They’re so far away from one another and yet they truly look so close from here. Some people call them ‘Chickens’, did you know that?”

“No…” was all I managed to whisper back.

“Yeah, I think it’s all about making it less frightening and more familiar. When you name something ‘a flock of chicks’, you can forget that in reality, it’s a huge mass of deadly gasses in an inexplicably vast space… It somehow puts it on the same level with our daily reality, making it less irrelevant and mundane.”

It was exactly how I felt, and he was putting it to words. We were so tiny, so insignificant, and yet he meant EVERYTHING to me, simply because he was Jake. My Jake.

“I think it’s the same with love,” he continued. “Love and hate are complex, abstract ideas, hard to understand sometimes, and often scary. Yet the names we gave them, respectively, make the difference. Pronouncing ‘love’ feels like getting ready for a kiss. But hate? You huff the word through your nose with disgust. We embraced love. We write poems and songs about it, all of it only to disguise the fact that it's a frightening concept...”

“Do I frighten you, Jake?” I asked tentatively.

He kissed my hair and then pressed his lips on my earlobe. “No, not you. You’re real. I can feel your heartbeat. You have a face. And a name. Your mind is a home, and your soul the hearth.”

I didn’t even realize I started crying, not until I could taste the salty tear on my upper lip. Jake held me tight, with his arms wrapped firmly around my shivering body. I was no longer trembling because of the cold. “I love you, too.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @josh-iamyour-mama @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @cheersdannyx2 @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @gretasfallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @sacredsparrow @scarabsinthestardust @ironlotus90 @seenoversundown

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pigswithwings · 22 hours ago

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ok i want to talk about the symbolism in here bc even though its one of my simpler pieces i put at least a little bit of thought in2 it !!

so the main focus is a math concept, it's a graph of an asymptotic function. the idea behind asymptotic lines is that they approach a specific number/value but will never reach it; ergo, they will be constantly moving towards something but it will infinitely be out of reach. so with this piece there is the theme of distance, both between the two halves of the function (red and blue lines) and between each half of the function and the asymptotes (not pictured). the graph background i've drawn relates to mirage's distance from everything in life as well as her struggle to find a purpose in life. she may approach finding hope (approaching the asymptote), but ultimately she is barred from reaching it due to her nihilism. similarly, she is distanced (separated, as the function is divided by the asymptote) from both her own desires and the things in her life such as school. the asymptotic function represents the (self-made) barrier between mirage and the rest of the world.

secondly the stationery & school supplies. i often think about how mirage is a schoolgirl and has to deal with the stresses of being in class, having homework, having to navigate a social life at school, and how draining it must be for a girl who's already so tired of everything. so i imagine that school must already be a huge struggle, and that's why she has to rationalize it as not mattering. nothing matters, so school doesn't matter, so it doesn't matter if she fails in all her classes. but analysis of mirage aside, i use the red pens in this image (seen in the top left, top right, and bottom left corners) to emphasize mirage's struggles in life. red pens are known for being used to mark mistakes, errors, and other things being done wrong on a student's work. so by having red pens be literally connected to mirage and physically surrounding her, i attempt to convey her lowered self-worth. mirage viewing all of human intelligence as a mistake implies that she also believes this about herself - *she* is a mistake. so the red pens are only fitting. also i like drawing pens and pencils because i am objectum 🫶

speaking of mirage herself, i'm pretty proud of the way i've drawn her here. she's got her tie undone, her sleeves rolled up, she's sitting in a not-exactly-ladylike position and i wanted to make her feel more casual or even more vulnerable. i haven't drawn her lens/eye/light source/whatever you call it half out of convenience and half because i wanted the artwork to continue feeling hazy and abstract and impersonal. i like the dichotomy between the small details of mirage's arm and the denial of giving her an "eye" or a "face". can't quite put it into words but that feels similar to how mirage attempts to be vulnerable with the player character but still feels incredibly distant.

not too much to say about the grouped-up objects in the fourth quadrant (lower right). did you know the paper is in morse code? i considered putting more code on her notebook and notecards as well, but i felt as though that would make the piece more cluttered and it would lose its dreamy air (the separation of colours helps with this a lot). i would've also marked up mirage's writing with red pen to emphasize her percieved "failure" in life but i realized that would make the morse code much harder to see. so thats it really 👍 i like talking about my own art & its very fun to think about mirage

asymptotic - infinite distance (part of an art trade with @b1ttersweet-dreams !!)

#pig originals #local artist writes an actual essay when nobody asked

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gaylordscooter · 1 day ago

Text

Moving in

“lemme get this straight, you already know what we’ve done, haven't you? i read your little journal.”

Blue shifted on his bed, trying to keep eye contact with Sans. “Well, yeah, but I wasn't writing about you three specifically.”

Sans looked disgusted but it wasn't at Blue. “there were others before us.”

Blue couldn't hide the guilt on his face.

“and you don't know where they are anymore. you wanted to help them too, huh?”

He really did. He was just too weak and scared back then, but now he's gotten used to talking to murderers. After all, one of his best friends is one.

It's important not to narrow them down to just that. Of course the idea initially sounds weird. Why would you ever want to show compassion to these guys? Blue formed an answer for that a long time ago.

When their story is scripted, was it really their fault?

He supposed offering a question as an answer wasn't the best thing, but his personal answer to that was “no”. At least, depending on how they act once they're out of their universe. As far as he's concerned, these three haven't caused any significant trouble after they’ve left their universes.

He didn't need all these justifications anyway. Personally, he didn't really care what they’ve done. He's here to help, that's what he does.

“i’m gonna pass on your offer,” he said. “besides, if you plan on helping dusk ‘n killer, you're gonna need your full attention on ‘em. i got papyrus, they got…each other, i guess, but that's doing more harm than good at the moment.” He grimaced.

“Right, okay,” Blue nodded. Sans’s reasoning was sound. He did have a support system opposed to the other two, and monitoring all three of them would probably be too much.

“y’know you might die trying to help them, right?” His tone sounded neutral, as if he was just stating a fact rather than trying to deter him.

“Well, yeah.” Everything he did came with a chance of death. It's a part of having only one HP.

But given everything he has survived, which included his universe literally shattering, he's stopped caring about those chances long ago.

“that's not gonna stop you at all?”

“I wouldn't be here right now if it would—OH SHIT!”

Sans flinched at the sudden increase in volume. “what?!”

Blue’s eyelights shrunk and he stood up from the bed. “Your eye!” he yelled as if that explained anything.

“what about my eye?”

“The other one. Your magic eye, doesn't that keep you alive?” Blue asked.

Sans was taken aback. He hasn't thought about that in a long while. For this guy to know about it…Just how much did this guy know?

And how did he get that information?

Sans decided to look at him like he was crazy rather than responding, which immediately made Blue look nervous.

“...is that not right?”

He sounded like a kid who got a question wrong on a test. As innocent as that sounded on paper, he didn't appreciate that the question in this instance was regarding a personal fact about himself. A personal fact not even Papyrus knew.

“alright,” he adjusted his posture on the stool to lean closer to him, “how do you know all this stuff about us?”

Just like he wanted, the gesture seemed to intimidate him. He sat up straight on his bed, but he didn't lean back as if showing weakness would make him lunge at the other.

Blue tugged on his scarf. “Okay, I know it sounds suspicious, but a friend of mine told me all about you guys.”

He narrowed his sockets, “a friend?”

“Oof, okay, you want the full explanation?”

The look on Sans’s face was enough to usher him to continue.

Blue sighed. “So the friend I’m talking about is Ink, you've seen him a few times.” He lowered his voice as he continued. “he kinda doesn't like me talking about him to other people, but you are entitled to a proper explanation. he kinda knows everything about the multiverse and sometimes he tells me about it.”

The whole thing sounded like complete bullshit, but with how Blue’s been acting this entire time he felt inclined to believe it. How else would he know? Stalking them? He isn't even from the same universe as them.

With that being said.

“and how the hell does ink get all this information?”

Blue cleared his throat, “uhhh. i’m not actually sure. he just kinda. Knows. Automatically. i can point at someone and he’ll be able to identify their universe and backstory immediately.”

It felt like there was something Blue wasn't telling him with how vague he was being. Internally he took note of how he used the word “backstory” to describe one's past. As if he were talking about people like they were characters.

Sans didn't think anyone should have as much knowledge as Ink. Bad things can come out of someone knowing all of the answers.

They might start digging for more mysteries, consequences be damned, just to satiate their curiosity.

But Blue’s concerns right now were elsewhere.

“So anyway, about your eye. An entity called Error destroyed your universe and displaced everyone to The Hub. So everything left, including your eye, is probably in his labyrinth right now.”

He proceeded to ramble on about “Error” and the labyrinth that resided in a place called the antivoid.

What Sans understood was that his eye was in a near-inaccessible place and could be destroyed the longer it stayed there. So really it isn't any different from it being in the queen’s possession.

Despite Blue’s long explanation that hardly anyone has been able to get something out of the labyrinth unscathed, he insisted he was going to get his eye out from that place. By himself.

Sans was not gonna let this guy just recklessly risk his life like that just to save his own.

“It's fine! I've been there before. I’m sure I can get it back safely with the right planning,” he insisted.

“because your plan to rescue that skeleton from that freak went so smoothly,” he retorted.

“sending you three wasn't my plan.”

“sending that army of whatever those things were was your plan, though.”

“They're called Blueberries and that wasn't my initial plan either!” Blue crossed his arms, “besides, it did get everyone out relatively safely even though I hardly had time to think of it.”

Those “blueberries” were a good distraction, he’ll give him that, but he still wasn't sure this guy would be able to pull off retrieving his eye from what was essentially described as a multiversal garbage dump—plan or not.

“hang on, why doesn't ink just get it instead? isn't he a lot more capable?”

Blue looked at him like he told him pigs could fly. “No,” he answered succinctly. “Anyway, I’ll probably get it back in a week. It shouldn't be destroyed by then.”

The “probably” and “shouldn't” was real comforting.

He went on to change the subject as if the topic at hand was casual small talk.

“So you wanted to move into a house with just you and your brother, right?”

After they had that talk he sent Dusk over to Blue. He was curious how his conversation would go with him, considering Dusk hardly talked. The only person he consistently spoke to at this point was Killer.

To be fair the only other people he could talk to was him and Nightmare. Of course he wasn't going to talk to Nightmare and he could just sign whenever he was with Sans. Maybe things will be different with more people around.

Yeah right.

Speaking of Killer, he was out like a light at the moment. Even after he ate and was healed by Dusk, he still felt sleepy enough to take a nap. He didn't know how exactly those flowers from Fresh worked, but he assumed they could leech off of a monster’s magic, which is why it would knock out a monster like Killer—he was used to having a lot of magic in his system. Suddenly losing a lot wasn't exactly fatal for him but it confuses the body.

Or something like that, he wasn't a biologist.

Dusk was pretty loopy too after their first encounter with Fresh, but he was loopy all the time so it was hard to tell there was a difference.

Those two…he wouldn't have guessed they'd end up the way they were now. From day one those two seemed to loathe each other. Every day he wondered if one of them would finally kill the other. The fights they had would tear up parts of the forest. He watched them, at first out of some sick curiosity, but later on it was to call an end to the fight whenever they got too carried away.

But then there was that night where Nightmare gave them a blunt, probably curious to see how it would go down.

Well, he sure hoped sparking a relationship between those two was what he wanted.

Even without the weed affecting him, that night was a trip. Two murderous self-loathing alternate versions of himself clinking teeth couldn't be topped by any hallucination.

Killer stirred, finally waking up. He was still incredibly groggy. He explained to him that they were talking to Blue to sort out their living situations.

Dusk came in through the hallway shortly after, acting fairly cold towards Killer as if he wasn't watching over him and waiting for him to wake up moments ago.

Sans had a hunch he talked about Killer with Blue.

The hunch turned out to be right as he had a little chat with Dusk. They were going to live apart. That was good. Spending some time apart could make them less clingy to each other.

But the conversation between the two proved that being apart was gonna be harder than Dusk thought it would be. He retreated to the hallway where Blue apparently was standing too.

He was either eavesdropping or was on his way to the living room before he heard the arguing start.

He was generous enough to think it was the latter.

Blue looked back to his room, probably debating whether or not to go back.

And then they heard Dusk shout that he loves Killer. The two winced. Sans even heard Blue shout-whisper a “WHY would he say that now?”

Too stunned to even move, the conversation was over before they knew it.

The silence was incredibly loud.

Blue gave Sans an uncertain look, straightened himself out, and finally walked down the hall.

Despite the silent tension between Killer and Dusk, Blue managed to act like everything was normal.

Even though he was the only one that was talking at this point.

Moments later, Ink dropped by to take them to the Hub. Sans spared a glare at him, which he did not miss. He said nothing, but childishly stuck his tongue out at him. Which was a thing some skeletons apparently had.

They dropped off Killer first. Sans grabbed him by his sleeve to lead him over to his room. He looked completely empty as he clung onto Dusk in a last-ditch effort to keep him here.

It was weird seeing the normally chatty skeleton look so dead.

Was this really the same monster that called his relationship with Dusk an “inside joke”?

He couldn't help but feel a little worried about him being alone.

Next, Blue took him and Dusk to their new homes. He had no idea how they were built so quickly—at least it seemed like it was newly built, he swore those houses weren't standing there before.

Their houses were right next to each other and were only about a block away from the hotel Killer was staying at. It was convenient, if those two wanted to keep in touch.

“cya around,” he told Dusk.

Dusk gave him a thumbs up in response as they parted ways.

When he entered his new home, he was surprised to see that Papyrus had already started settling in.

There were many open boxes on the carpet of the entry room, all but one empty.

“sup, bro.”

Papyrus looked so giddy with joy, it was nice to see him like this again. He paused his unpacking to waltz over to Sans. “SANS, ISN’T IT AMAZING? OUR VERY OWN HOUSE WITH POWER! THIS ISN’T HOW I EXPECTED OUR LIVES TO GO, BUT, I’M GLAD EVERYTHING TURNED OUT FINE.”

“yeah.” It was intimidating, how “normal” their life has suddenly become.

All the unspoken words and secrets clung to his back. He never planned on telling Papyrus, or anyone, about what he's done. There wasn't any reason to, not when they were just trying to survive.

But now, now he felt the sense that he was obligated to.

Even though the blood stains were washed off his bones and teeth, they were still crooked, and his eye sockets had sunken in ways only Sans’s should.

Granted, people wouldn't know that was because he ate human meat, but they'd still know he'd gone through a rough time.

He was so happy right now. There was no need to tell him right now. There's no rush.

He thought back to that encounter with a different Papyrus back at Nightmare's place.

“You hid what happened from your brother didn't you?”

He read him like a book, and it wasn't even his Papyrus. Would that mean Papyrus knew he was hiding something?

Back then he was too distracted by the fact he told everyone to start eating humans to even question anything about his injury.

He thought about how his eye was currently at even more risk than it initially was. He didn't really feel scared or worried about dying. A part of him might even accept it.

But if that's the case, why did he fight so hard to survive?

Why didn't he just give up back then? His life wasn't worth all the shit he's put everyone through.

Of course back then, all he thought about was the betrayal. He was blinded by his anger.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT, SANS?” Papyrus asked.

Sans didn't realize he was just standing there and glaring at nothing for a little while. He relaxed his face. “yeah, it's just, surreal that we're here right now.”

“HONESTLY I DIDN’T EXPECT TO BE IN A BRAND NEW AREA WITH A BRAND NEW HOUSE EITHER. IT’S PRETTY WEIRD!”

Something about the cadence of Papyrus’s voice was off when he said that. He looked happy, sure, but something about the sound of his voice felt forced.

“what about you?”

Papyrus closed his mouth and looked at him as if he didn't hear. While his hearing was pretty bad at this point, which is part of the reason he learned sign language, in a silent room like this he knew he definitely heard his question.

Still, he repeated his question, “how are you doing?”

Papyrus's happy demeanor cracked as he lowered his smile. “I’M NOT QUITE SURE…WHAT YOU MEAN BY THAT QUESTION. OF COURSE I’M DOING GREAT!” His smile returned but it felt fake.

“uh—”

“WE HAVE POWER, A COMFORTABLE HOME, WE’RE TOGETHER AGAIN AFTER YOU MYSTERIOUSLY WENT MISSING FOR A WHOLE YEAR. WHAT’S NOT TO BE HAPPY ABOUT?”

There was something in the tone of his voice that Sans had a hard time pinning down at first and then Papyrus continued.

“EVERYONE WHO SURVIVED IS SAFE NOW. WE HAVE FOOD THAT ISN’T HUMAN MEAT. AND THERE’S NEW FACES TO MEET!”

Papyrus leveled with Sans, kneeling down and grabbing his shoulders.

Sans swore his tired eye sockets looked at him with desperation. Desperation to just, go back to normal. To go back to being The Great Papyrus.

The Great Papyrus that didn't hunt any humans for food, that didn't get unnerved by his brother, that didn't get scared of Undyne.

The Great Papyrus that had hope for the future.

No, he still had hope. It was just. Hard. To hold onto it.

Especially when it felt more like denial at this point.

“Are you sure you're alright, Sans?” Papyrus asked, quieter this time.

He looked closer at Papyrus’s face. No, he imagined all that desperation. That smile wasn't plastic, it was real. Papyrus was doing fine—maybe not “great” like he said but that desperation to go back to normal wasn't Papyrus’s.

Sans sighed, “i’m getting there.”

Papyrus frowned. “Why do you do that?”

He blinked, “do what?”

“Ever since you've gotten back you act WEIRD when someone says your name.”

He does? “huh?”

“YEAH, AT FIRST YOU DIDN’T REALLY RESPOND AT ALL TO IT, BUT NOW YOU FLINCH.”

He knew he was pretty unresponsive at first whenever someone called his name. For a whole year he was referred to as “Horror”. He had to get used to being called Sans again, but he didn't realize he flinched now. Does he do that when Killer calls him Sans too? Does he notice?

The thought made him sick. Was he really so used to that demeaning name Nightmare gave him that he reacted weirdly to his real name?

His name is not Horror.

get that through your skull. that should be easy considering the hole in it.

He hasn't told Papyrus or the others much about where he's been for the past year. He didn't feel ready to. Then again, he never felt ready to explain anything.

Some things don't change.

Papyrus sighed, taking his silence as reluctance to answer. “WELL I’M GOING TO SET UP YOUR ROOM NOW. SOME OF YOUR STUFF IS STILL AT THE OTHER HOUSE. GO TALK TO TORIEL SHE HAS YOUR STUFF PACKED.”

“oh, uh. alright.” He said a quick bye as Papyrus turned around, picked up a box and went over to where his room apparently was. Only one floor in this house, that's gonna be weird to get used to.

Nightmare's castle was also weird to get used to, but like hell would he call that place a home.

Welp, he should go get his things now.

He left the house. He spared a glance at Dusk’s new house. It looked smaller than his. Maybe there were fewer rooms since only he lived there.

He could see that the lights were off through the windows. Maybe he was sleeping, or out.

He made his way over to the house Toriel was staying at.

When he first arrived there, it felt like everything went back to normal immediately. It was almost like he didn't leave at all, but that was a temporary front. They can't just ignore his disappearance and everything that happened in between.

Even though Sans wanted to.

As he walked over to the house, he noticed two monsters standing on the doorstep from a distance. As he got closer, he recognized the two as alternate versions of him and Papyrus.

They were holding baskets of vegetables. That, along with their clothing and hats, gave off the impression they were farmers.

He felt awkward as he walked up behind them and interrupted whatever this was.

Thankfully it was Toriel they were talking to and she noticed him immediately. “Greetings, Sans! You are here to pick up the rest of your things, I presume?”

“yup,” he said. He couldn't help but eye the two skeletons here.

They turned around to look at him the moment Toriel acknowledged him. He wasn't wearing a hat right now so his head injury was on clear display for them to gawk at. To their credit, they managed to keep their expressions the same, but he knew they were probably wincing internally.

“Oh, you have not met these two yet! They are the local farmers, they hand out baskets of their produce every week.”

Right after she said that, the shorter skeleton handed her the basket he was holding. “yup, and they're cultivated by yours truly,” he said.

The taller skeleton scoffed, “HARDLY! ALL YOU DO IS SIT OR STAND BY THE CROPS AND JUST WATCH THEM GROW.”

“i scare the crows away.”

“THERE AREN’T EVEN ANY CROWS THAT LIVE THERE!” he countered.

The shorter skeleton’s sockets curled up in amusement. “i’m doing a really good job then.”

His brother shouted a protest that he shrugged off, and then his eyelights were back on Sans. “anyway, the name’s sans, but you can just call me ‘suman’ to avoid confusion. and you can call the tall one ‘pompano’.”

“STOP TELLING PEOPLE TO CALL ME A TYPE OF FISH!”

“but it's your favorite fish.”

“Pompano” frowned and rolled his eye sockets. “THAT ISN’T EVEN TRUE. YOU JUST CHOSE THAT WORD BECAUSE IT STARTS WITH A ‘P’ AND HAS THE SAME AMOUNT OF SYLLABLES AS ‘PAPYRUS’.”

“oh yeah.” Suman paused for a moment. “so, you’ll probably be seeing us around from time to time today. we got a lotta deliveries to make.”

“OF COURSE, YOUR HOUSE IS INCLUDED TOO!” Pompano piped. He gave him a smile before he turned to his brother. “THAT’S ENOUGH DAWDLING FOR NOW. I WOULD LIKE TO BE HOME BEFORE THE SUN SETS BACK AT OUR PLACE. THE CHICKENS NEED THEIR BEDTIME STORY!”

“right, the chickens.”

“YES!”

“what about the cows, sheep, ducks—”

“OH THEY’LL BE FINE!”

“i’m just sensing some favoritism here.”

“PREPOSTEROUS.” Pompano already started walking away from the house.

Suman gave a quick wave to Toriel and Sans before following after him.

Toriel giggled as the two skeletons continued their banter in the distance. Then she looked back at Sans. “I apologize for the delay. I shall get the rest of your things now.” She turned around and walked back into her house.

Sans couldn't help but feel affected by seeing those two skeletons. He thought he was used to seeing alternate versions of himself and others by now but those two…they reminded him of how he used to be. How he and Papyrus used to be.

The teasing remarks. The light banter. The happiness they brought each other.

Of course Papyrus still brought him happiness, that was a given, but.

He doubted he made Papyrus happy.

Toriel returned a moment later, box in hand. She handed it over to him. “Your brother has already moved most of your stuff in, this should be the rest of it.”

The box was pretty small and light. What it held, he had no idea. Honestly, he was surprised he even had enough stuff for there to be box-fulls of it, and all of it was stuff Papyrus brought.

And they moved before Papyrus knew he was alive.

At this point he wouldn't be surprised if guilt killed him before his eye was destroyed.

He bid Toriel farewell and went back home. Again, he spared a glance to Dusk’s place before going to his house. The lights were still off but a basket of vegetables was left by the front door.

He sighed and entered his new house.

He saw Papyrus in the kitchen, stocking the fridge with vegetables. Those farmer brothers were fast, he didn't even see them walking away from the house.

“hey bro. got my stuff.”

He moved his head out of the fridge to look at him with a smile. “WONDERFUL! YOU CAN FINISH UP UNPACKING AND WE’LL FINALLY BE SETTLED IN.”

“sure thing.” He walked over to the living room where the doors to their rooms were located. Thankfully, Papyrus already had his “PAPYRUS ALLOWED” sign hung on his door so it was easy to figure out which room was his.

He entered his room. It was weird to think of it as his room when it looked so different from his old one (and the one at Nightmare's castle). The walls, like the rest of the house, were a light yellow, while the ground was composed of wooden floorboards.

There was a bed situated in one of the corners of the room. A proper bed for once, not just some mattress on the ground. The sheets and pillow case were a light green. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded if the room was just a plain white or beige. Maybe he’d prefer it, even, because it felt like the room itself was a “be happy” sign.

Or maybe he just wasn't used to a room looking so…homey.

He set the box down on a chair and opened it. He didn't know what would be in here, but he didn't expect it to be stuff from his lab. Immediately he reached out to the first thing he saw, his photo album.

Geez, he hasn't seen this in a long time. He lost the key to the lab awhile ago—he lost the key. How did they get this?!

Waving away the nostalgia the album gave him, he set it down and rushed out of his room.

The second he spotted Papyrus he spat out his question.

“papyrus, how did you get the stuff from the lab? we lost the key ages ago.”

Papyrus closed the fridge and turned around. “YOU DIDN’T LOSE THE KEY, YOU GAVE IT TO THE HUMAN.”

“human? which—why would i give it to a human?”

He scoffed, “WHEN YOU PRANKED THEM, REMEMBER? YOU HAD SECRET CODEWORDS AND EVERYTHING.”

Sans’s mind was drawing a blank. It took a few to realize which human he was even talking about. The one that killed Asgore and a lot of other monsters. The anomaly. That human.

The only reason he remembered them now was because Dusk mentioned them from time to time. It was funny. They used to be a huge problem in his life but now he could hardly remember what they looked like.

“how’d you get it back, then? they never came back.”

“WELL, INTERESTING STORY, ACTUALLY—”

“no way.” He was already narrowing his sockets.

“DO NOT MAKE PREMATURE ASSUMPTIONS!” He paused, waiting for him to respond.

He rolled his eye. “okay. i won’t.”

“THE HUMAN SHOWED BACK UP.”

He stared at Papyrus in stunned silence. That didn't make any sense. Why would they come back after that long?

“BUT NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, THEY LOOKED THE EXACT SAME?? THEY SHOULD’VE LOOKED DIFFERENT. HUMANS GROW OLDER, RIGHT? AND THEY DIDN’T EVEN STICK AROUND. THEY JUST HANDED ME THE KEY TO THE LAB AND TOOK YOUR PHONE BEFORE DISAPPEARING.”

“took my phone?” Sans’s sockets widened. “....”

Oh god no.

“that asshole can shapeshift?” he muttered under his breath.

He could impersonate people. He could be anyone at any time. How can he be sure he's not someone here?

Is this part of his torment too? Of course they weren't free from him; of course there was a catch. He should've known.

He's not safe here.

“SANS? WHAT’S WRONG?”

Papyrus’s hands were on his shoulders.

“i—” Sans pushed down his instinct to deflect. He sighed, “i need to tell you about where i’ve been this past year.”

#utmv fic #horror sans #killer sans #dust sans #blue(BSsans)#horror papyrus

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gingernut1314 · 3 days ago

Text

Like Seahorses Do ch. 9

Summary: Silco comes up with a plan to bring Viktor's father back home. A plan that goes wrong.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, young Felicia, young Connol, baby Vi, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, canon typical violence (lots of fighting in this one), guns/blood, more feelings confessing, reader has water manipulation, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 8.9K

Tag List: @miffysoo , @teriyakiitae , @locinne , @equaniimouxx , @cipher-nine

@shi-toshi , @sebastianlover

A/N: ....heyyy....so....it's been a mintue...sorry...life is been a bit crazy and the fandom hopping, I can't help it 😭 buutt have an extra long chapter as my apology!! I hope you all enjoy!

↞ to The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Act 3

“We’ve gone on more dangerous jobs Topside than finding and bringing back poor Nikolai.” Silco huffed from where he stood before the bar at The Last Drop the next night. Connol and Felicia stood on his left side, while you and Sevika stood on the other, all huddled up tight as you tried to come up with a plan to get Nikolai back to the Lanes without paying that damn toll. “We’d be in and out before the sun even rose.”

“I know we’ve been on more dangerous jobs. I know it’d be quick. But that’s it--we. Not you two alone.” Vander huffed right back at him as he mixed up a drink. Benzo, who was also working behind the bar, reached across Vander to grab a whiskey bottle.

“I don’t know, Vander. Maybe it’s for the best they go it alone.” Benzo started as he reached with his other hand for three shot glasses. “Better only two get sent to Stillwater than all of us.” Benzo teased, making Silco frown deeply his way.

“How ‘bout you shut your gob and pass me one of those.” You insisted, stretching passed Silco to lean on the bar top, holding a hand of wiggling fingers out for Benzo to do as you said. But Benzo did the exact opposite of handing you a shot and began to laugh his ass off at you.

“Gob? You call that an insult?” You furrowed your brows at him.

“It’s--yes.” You hissed. “Gob like a mouth like--” You glanced towards Felicia for help but she had turned her eyes towards where Vi was rushing about the bar, causing chaos that most didn’t seem to mind.

Connol was the one who caught your eye, rubbing a hand over his short-cropped hair a few times as he shrugged.

“That's not half bad. You know why, Zozo.” Connol started, a bit of playfulness shining in his eyes you all rarely saw. He was more the stoic type, but Felicia had seemed to soften his rugged edges a bit.

Benzo made a greatly displeased face at Connol. “Zozo, aw gods that horr--”

“Cause in the mining world a gob is where we put all the extra waste.” Connol chuckled an airy thing. You cracked a wicked grin, a high laugh on your lips.

“Agreed. Stop spewing such utter waste about the plan and focus.” Silco coldly shot Benzo’s way, the man seeming to have traded his smile for Silco’s frown.

“Zozo, don’t let them get to you.” Felicia butted in, taking her eyes off Vi for a moment to throw Benzo a kind smile.

“Gods, Zozo again!” Benzo groaned, passing the shots to the three awaiting customers. Felicia shook her head with a smirk as she looked back towards the rest of you all.

“No one’s getting thrown into Stillwater though. I think--” The sound of shattering glass, a sharp hey!, and a very angry toddler’s babish, yet strangely mean words cut Felicia off. “Oh! Ah! Sorry! Vi. No, no!” She rushed off towards her now screeching three-year-old, Connol watching the whole scene in amusement.

“Can we focus?” Sevika hissed, blowing a stream of smoke from her lungs. “I’ll go with them. How about that?” She huffed Vander’s way, who was still looking all too concerned about this small little trip.

“I guess--”

“No,” Silco cut his brother off, making a spark of that wolfish anger flash through Vander’s eyes. “Sevika is to go speak with her father. Gather him and his men to our cause. We need the muscle.”

“No fucking way I’m going to speak with that old bastard.” Sevika slammed her fist on the bar top beside where you had been leaning your hands. She bent down to all but grit her teeth in your face. “Just cause you two are back to being joined at the lips doesn’t mean you can go around tellin’ him my personal shit.” She hissed in your face, the remaining smoke from her lungs blowing into your face.

“I told him when you told me years ago. I didn’t know what a secret was then, Vika.” You bit back.

“And that’s supposed to make it any better?” She pulled away with a shake of her head. “Good fucking grief, guppy.”

“Wait--lips?” Felicia popcorned back in, a fighting and red-faced Vi in her arms. “You two kissed? Again? No fight after? When?” She demanded, passing Vi off to Connol who got a cubby little fist to the jaw.

You thought back to how he’d kissed you last night. How he’d held your jaw so gently. How his lips had fit so perfectly against yours. Too perfectly. How he’d kissed you before saying goodnight and how he’d kissed you after he’d come back from work this morning. How he’d taken your hand and pulled you around the corner to kiss you before you two had joined the group in here.

“Uh--” You stammered, brain buzzing in the memory of them all. “We--the plan. We need to refocus on the plan.” You managed, glancing up at Silco to find that a dusting of pink had spread over his cheeks. Seafoam eyes looked over your face. Eyes that lingered ever so slightly on your lips.

Gods. You almost grabbed him then to give him an even closer view.

“I agr--” Silco could hardly finish his word before Sevika was speaking again.

“Just last night. Heard her telling Nadia all the hot and heavy details.” Sevika smirked making your heart spike sharply in your chest in slight panic. Felicia gave a delighted gasp, eyes glancing between the two of you.

“Tell me, tell me please.” She reached across the way to grab your hand and give it a little tug.

“Sevika is overexaggerating it.” You grit, shooing Felicia’s hand away. “It wasn’t--well it was hot but I wouldn’t say it was heavy,” Felicia giggled and you couldn’t help but let your fluttering stomach pull one from you too. Silco said your name exasperated. “Oh--sorry.” You gave Silco a little apologetic shrug. “I still don’t think I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

“It’s not a secret.” Silco huffed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so that he could pull your back flush against his chest. You wrapped your hand around his wrist as your stomach gave a giddy little flutter.

Not a secret.

It was a sentiment that made you feel all warm inside.

“But what we do is none of you nitwits concern.” Silco hissed it around the small huddle of your friends, who all wore various different looks of amusement. “Besides, it’s only been a day.”

“How long have you two known each other?” Sevika sounded like she’d grown bored of this conversion, but one look at her face showed the mischief still raging in her eyes.

“Ten years.” You and Silco both responded without so much as a moment of hesitation. It only made Felicia’s smile wider.

“Ten years of friendship and annoyingly pining over each other. I’d say it’s reason enough to fuck.” Sevika very bluntly said. A bluntness that had your face feeling like you’d shove it into a pot of boiling water and Silco’s grip around you tightened the slightest bit.

“You’re godsdamn lucky Nadia isn’t here to scold you.” You hissed, giving her a shove that didn’t even move a single hair on her head.

“It’s good to go slow.” Felicia chimed in, dodging another flying fist from her kid. “Otherwise you might end up with a perfect little boxer.” She grabbed Vi’s chubby cheeks and littered it with kisses. Vi complained but held still to receive the affection.

Your heart hallowed out enough it loosened your hold on that nagging voice in the back of your mind.

You had slept with people you had had zero feelings for outside of an appreciation of their looks. You knew Silco had too so you couldn’t help but think should you have?

There was no question in your mind about whether or not you wanted to. You did. Oh gods you did but a relationship like this with your good friend and someone you’d liked for such a long time was different. You didn’t know a single thing about being in a serious relationship.

Was this serious?

Was this--

“Again,” Silco began, his thumb rubbing over your exposed collarbone in a way that had you forgetting about that nagging little voice. “It is none of your concern.” He leveled Sevika with a threat-filled glare she gruffed at but lowered her gaze to.

“Well--all I’ll say is it's about damn time.” Benzo chimed in, a friendly smile on his face. “Better than you two squabbling all the time.” He slid a shot down the way for you, just as you had asked moments ago.

“Now,” Vander spoke once more, a happy little smile on his lips and a gleeful sparkle in his eyes that had quelled the wolf altogether. “Silco, rework the plan. You two won’t go alone but we do need to get Nikolai.” Silco huffed at this.

“If we send Sevika, Connol, and Benzo to meet with Sevkia’s father--” Sevika cut Silco off with a growl.

“I said I’m not gonna mee--”

“I don’t wish to make ya go meet with him, Sevika, but we need all the support we can get.” Vander started, beginning to make a fresh drink. “The situation at the border is only going to get worse. We all know that. Would you like me to go instead?” Sevika watched him for a long moment, gray eyes hard and top lip twitching in her anger.

“No. He won’t speak with you.” She took a long, deep drag of her blunt. “Fuck it. Whatever. Next part of the plan.”

“We three can go find Nikolai.” Silco gestured to Vander, you, and himself. “Nadia said their friend's home is one street up from the northernmost bridge. We’ll have to cross the river and hope Nikolai stays put.”

“And how are we gonna get ‘cross the river?” Vander asked, placing a little flower on the top of the drink he had just made before passing it to a girl down the way. He came back over, a few coins in hand.

Silco looked to you and you to him.

You were the plan to get across the river. You were going to use your magic to create a small bubble of air for Silco so that you could swim him across under the water. That way no one would see you.

But now, with the added mix of Vander who knew nothing of your powers, would complicate things. You hadn’t really ever planned on telling him of them. Telling any of your friends about them. Magic wasn’t something people tended to think fondly of.

“We’ll swim across of course.” Vander raised a brow at Silco’s almost too-cocky words.

“You can’t swim.” Silco shrugged.

“She’s been teaching me.” Vander continued to watch you both with an “I’m not believing this for two seconds” look. “It’ll be fine. Just go with it.”

“What about me?” Felicia asked. “I want to be involved too. I can still kick ass with a baby strapped to my chest. She’ll help too.” Silco looked to Vander who both then looked to Felicia.

“Well, the plan was you would go stay with Nadia.” This only earned Silco a sharp glare.

“So I’m stuck on babysitting duty?” Felicia snapped.

“It is your ankle bitter.” This only earned you an equally as sharp glare.

“It’s not just my ankle bitter.” Felicia shoved her pink-painted pointer finger into Connol’s shoulder, pulling a small ow from his lips. “Why don’t you stay on babysitting duty, huh?”

“Babe, I would much rather watch Vi then go meet with Sevika’s papa.” Connol readjusted his grip on his kid, who was now trying to throw herself backward out of his arms.

“Alright then. Change the plan.” Felicia gestured to Silco to do so.

“This is the last time I am involving you all in the creation of any plan. I am the plan maker. I make the plans.” Silco gruffed her way, but Felicia only threw him a wink. “Fine. Connol will stay with Nadia and Vi and Felicia will go with Sevika and Benzo. There. Do we all agree on the plan?” Everyone in the group gave a round of nods and sounds of agreement.

“I still would like to know how we’re going to get ‘cross the river,” Vander said. You grabbed for the shot Benzo had given you and held it up his way.

“You’ll like it. It’ll be fun.” And you downed the burning liquid in one go.

“All this talk of crossing rivers reminds me of this old song my mom used to sing to me before bed…oh how did it go.” Felicia mused, looking over her daughter's face in thought. A soft, not very in-tune hum sounded from Connol, pulling Felicia’s eyes to him.

“That one?” Felicia beamed up at him with a nod. “Popular amongst our parents huh?”

“What else is there to do besides get crafty when Topside locks you completely out?” Felicia muttered, eyes squinting a bit in further thought before her whole face lit up once more on a small gasp. “Oh! Got it!” And she began singing the lyrics to the tune Connol had started. Her voice was beautiful and instantly caught the attention of Vi, who was rightfully transfixed with it.

A deep, buried part of you knew you’d heard it before. A deep part of you that didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be you, but it was there nonetheless. It remembered you of that tugging, calling you’d followed to save all those kids years ago.

It was something that scared you. That made you feel--other. Other than human. Other than a living breathing being and more like a cold, watery thing that was called around by the arcane.

You instantly snuggled deeper into Silco’s chest, needing to be reminded that you were in fact, standing there with him. To feel him hold your physical body that was breathing. That was living.

Silco was glad to hold you closer. Glad to move his hand around to find yours, intertwining his long fingers with yours.

“Lullabies get you nowhere.” Sevika hissed, stubbing out the small bit of her blunt left in the ashtray before her. “Our parents were cowards.”

“Good thing we aren’t.” Silco gave your hand a squeeze.

Your grip on Silco’s hand tightened as you yanked him sharply behind a few stacked crates on the Undercity’s side of the river. It seemed that blocking the bridges off hadn’t been enough, they had needed to send enforcers patrolling the wharf as large spotlights illuminated the surrounding areas in search of any that might be trying to cross.

You two had expected there might be a stray enforcer or two. That you would have to work fast as soon as Vander joined you to get across in case someone spotted you.

But this many enforcers--it was as if you had kicked a bee hive and sent all their drones on high alert.

You hadn’t expected this and Silco definitely hadn’t, otherwise it would have been put into his plan. A plan that was currently going way off course. So off course it had made Silco’s caltualting brain freeze, nearly getting him spotted by one of those enforcers had you not dragged him back here.

You’d known Silco to freeze up like this before. Mainly during jobs you two and Vander did Topside that didn’t go as planned.

He froze when he was scared too. Vander had told you of his worry about it a while ago. How it’d almost gotten him killed down in the mines during cave-ins.

You thought it was cute. Gave you something you could do for him. Had let you get close to him before you two caved to your feelings.

“Gods--” Silco gave a frustrated little sound as you slowly peeked around the crates, finding a group of three enforcers had stopped just a little ways away from you. “I--sorry.” You waved the apology off as one of the enforcers started complaining about how she was going to miss the game tonight cause she was stationed here.

“Ugh--I’ll never get over how fucking dull Pilties are.” You murmured, pulling back to a crouch before Silco, who you’d all but thrown against the crates, long legs sprawled to the sides and hair scrunched against the salt-stained wood. “It’s like they’re programmed to all think and talk about the same shit. Oh yes, let's go toss that egg-shaped ball and give each other concussions. Or, or! The spouse is nagged at me to lose some weight again. And blah, blah, blah.” You gave a goofy smile Silco’s way, to which he only continued to stare up at you nearly dumbfounded.

“I--you know I almost just got us caught right?” Silco pulled himself up a bit from his thrown position. “I froze.” You shrugged.

“And? It would have been fun, huh?” You shuffled closer so that you could lean closer to him. “High stakes. Fast chase. We would have beat them obviously.” The corner of Silco’s lips pulled upward. A small tug that pulled into that easy smile you liked to see him look at you with.

He dug his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and as he pulled it out, the smallest flash of gold caught your eye.

You thought for a moment he had pulled the flask you had given him out, but what he held was too small and easily concealed within his palm.

“What do you have?” You asked, shuffling ever closer. “Something shiny.” Silco gave a small exhale of amused air.

“How did you even see that?” You shrugged.

“I like gold. I like shiny. I like shiny gold. I’ve trained my eyes to spot it.” Silco gave another small chuckle.

“You remember the second time you, me, and Vander snuck our way Topside? Back when we were kids?” You nodded, eyeing up his fist to try and spy what he held within it one last time.

“You convinced Vander that going to the beach was a risk worth taking after the job we pulled.” You mused and you thought of those beaches. How clean they had been. How the waters, even though they were connected to the same grand sea, had sported not a single speck of trash. How the sands had been yellow-white and full of the most gorgeous shells you had ever seen.

It was found memory for you, being able to see such beautiful waters, but a memory tinted in bitterness towards the people who wished to rule over you all completely.

Your beaches and waters were nothing like theirs, even when they were so close. Even when they were made from the same lands and waters. Yet yours were full of toxins so potent it left stains on a person if left in them too long. That corrupted one's body--ate away at it. Toxins so strong they had left the sandy beaches a pitch black.

You loved your waters, but seeing how--natural everything was Topside had left a sour taste in your mouth.

“And you remember that small sand dollar you found and I foolishly broke?” The anger at Piltover simmered in the background of your mind as Silco continued to recount the trip. ��Instead of getting upset, you gave me a half. Said it would be a physical showing of our friendship.”

“I do remember.” You nodded, though your heart sank a small bit. “I--Silco, I lost my half.”

“No, you didn’t.” You blinked at him. Then again.

“How would you--”

“I might have snuck into your apartment…took it off your bedside table.” You gapped at him.

“How--Sevkia would have killed you if she had seen you break in.” Silco tossed you a cocky little smirk.

“You two don’t get off work till seven. I get off at five. I had time. And you really should change the hiding place for your spare key. Very obvious.” You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder a small shove.

“You gonna give me my half back?” You held your hand out, palm side up as you gave your fingers a little wiggle.

Silco opened his hand to reveal what he had been hiding from you. It was the two halves of sand dollar, but small, delicate holes had been made to the tops to fit a gold bail in each. Brown leather had been threaded through that to create a pair of matching necklaces. And to top it all off, small, golden charms had been added as well. Two seahorses.

“Nikolai put them together for me. Made the charms.” You ran your fingertip gently over the half you knew to be yours.

“And did Nadia know?” You found Silco’s eyes again, but he shook his head.

“Nearly killed the man trying to keep it a secret from his wife…but we all know Nadia is worse at keeping secrets than even you.” He teased.

“I only don’t keep them from you. Never felt right.” Silco’s seafoam eyes filled in that warm softness he only ever showed you.

“I wanted to give this to you earlier in apology for my behavior but…I was--nervous.” You nodded in agreement knowing you had felt those very same overwhelming nerves too. You ran your fingers from the rough sea dollars to feel over the heel of his palm. “I am glad you broke our silence. It was eating me alive.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t break it sooner. I was nervous too.” Silco gave you a smile that was just as warm as his eyes were. A smile, though not toothy as others might give, was the most breathtaking smile you had ever seen. Would ever see.

“I was thinking you’d wear my half and I’d wear yours.” He started, grabbing up the half that was his. A half that was a bit more jagged and held a long, oval hole in its side. “In way of showing our friendship, yes, but also in promise we’ll be there for each other. You once told me seahorses mate for life…” You nodded as he reached to clasp the necklace around your neck. “Well…I wish that for us. For us to be together. Side by side. For as long as you’ll have me.”

His words hit you like a brick. Words that filled your chest in such excitement and warmth you didn’t know what to do with it all. A happiness that made your cheeks sting from the wide smile your lips refused to let go of.

“I’ll have you.” You took your side of the necklace from Silco’s palm, seafoam eyes tracking your every move as you clasped it around his own neck. “I’ll have you for a long, long time. Till we’re old and wrinkled and can’t make it down the stairs.” You pulled a small chuckle from Silco as you let your fingers trace the skin of his collarbone, right where the sand dollar lay.

“I was miserable when we fought.” You continued, “All I wanted to do was talk with you. Be with you. I don’t see that changing any time soon. You make me happy. I want to be by your side for a long, long time. I hope we can hold on to each other like seahorses do against rough currents.”

Silco’s fingers brushed over your cheek, holding it so tenderly in his palm as he looked at you like you were some rare gem hidden amongst dull rock and coal.

“I’ll hold on. Face whatever is to come as long as I have you by my side.” You nodded in utter agreement as he pulled you ever closer.

“Head on, right?” The pointed tip of Silco’s nose fluttered over yours, an amused huff of air puffing against your skin.

“Yes, head on. Together.” Slightly caped lips pressed sweetly against yours. Lips that moved against yours, turning your mind to pleasant mush in your skull. Lips that swept the whole world away like some storming sea. Lips you thought about so much, it might have become an addiction.

“Boy, am I glad you two are finally together.” You and Silco jumped at the deep voice that sounded hushly in your ears.

Teeth clanked and noses squished together in both your startled natures, faces whipping around to find the larger form of your friend kneeling there beside you two.

“What in--how long have you been there?” Silco venomously hissed at Vander who kept on watching you with an all-too-happy grin on his lips.

“Just got here.” He sounded not at all bothered by the bite in Silco’s tone. Though you knew Vander was more than used to the sharp way his brother spoke. “Ya know, from the moment Silco rushed to save you from those carp-brained idiots from the docks, I knew he was smitten with you. Could tell you’d been smitten with him long before that.” You couldn’t help the giddy little laugh that spilled from your lips.

“I mean--how couldn’t I have been?” You grabbed Silco’s nose gently between your index and middle finger, giving it a small shake. “Look at him. I was a goner as soon as I laid eyes on him.” Silco huffed grumpily, shooing your hand away as that dusting of pink you loved made another appearance. A dusting that turned into a splash of red when Vander gave a little too loud a laugh for your surroundings.

You three tensed at the sound of voicing of too-close enforcers. Before any officers could come to snoop around the crates you were heading behind, you three slipped through the long shadows the spotlights cast around and found cover behind a dumpster in a smelly alleyway.

“Place is with swarming with bucket heads, huh?” Vander voiced as Silco peeked his head around a bag of trash.

“They’re taking what happened at the bridge more seriously than I originally thought they would,” Silco mumbled, tracking a pair of enforcers that walked past the alley.

“Who knows what they told their fancy pants council.” You hissed, “Probably tried to cover their asses. Tell them we took the first shot.”

“Once Nikolai is outta there and safely back down here, then we’ll push them back Topside,” Vander said. That’s when you noticed what he’d been carrying around with him. What he had taken so long to get before meeting you two here.

His pair of mining gauntlets.

He was ready to fight. Oh he was more than ready. The wolf had overtaken his gentle eyes. Eye now fully committed and bloodthirsty to the revolution you all had been dreaming about.

“How are we gettin’ across, sweetheart?” You glanced back to Silco who was already looking back to you. He gave you a small, steadfast nod in reassurance.

“Okay--promise not to freak out?” You started as you began unscrewing the top of the canteen of water you kept attached to your belt. Vander’s brows furrowed in confusion at your words.

“Freak out? What would I freak out about?” You sighed dramatically.

“Just promise.” You insisted, a flicker of amusement pulling at Vander’s features.

“Okay, okay. I promise.” You watched him for a second longer before grabbing for the water within the canteen with your magic. You pulled a flowing line of water from its metal confines, letting it twirl and twist around in the space between you and Vander.

And Vander looked--pale. Like he was gonna freak out.

“Oh--shit.” He muttered.

“You promised not to freak out.” Your heart hallowed out as he continued to look so utterly shell-shocked. You unconsciously pulled your waters closer, allowing them to snake around your fingers.

“I’m not.”

“Are too.” You quickly shot back.

“Did--Silco knew?” Vander asked, looking towards his brother who had pressed his shoulder against yours.

“Of course I knew.” Silco sounded almost proud of this fact. That he had been the only one to know for so long.

“He stumbled upon me throwing those carp-brain idiots into the harbor with it. I probably wouldn’t have told him if he hadn’t seen me do it. People and the arcane don’t like to mix.” Vander continued to watch you. Watch the waters you were nervously pressing into a ball between your hands. “Are you--scared? Do you--I wish you would say something.”

“Sorry--I--sorry. It’s just--no. No, I’m not scared.” Vander started, though it did nothing to help ease your fears. “I’m shocked is all. This is--you don’t see this every day.” You nodded in understanding.

Something like two pieces of a puzzle seemed to click together in his mind. “You--when that pipe burst in the Drop but the water somehow found a way to stay in a nice pool instead of flooding the whole place. That was you?”

“Yep.” Vander’s face finally broke from that stillness and a cheery smile pulled to his lips.

“Damn, sweetheart. You saved our asses that night. Wish I could have thanked you.” You shrugged.

“Just wanted to get back to sleep.” Vander gave a chuckle.

“Did you also explode that drink in Benzo’s hand when he wouldn’t lay off the shit?” You gave a mischievous little smirk.

“Guilty.” Vander shook his head, recognition catching on to another memory.

“You did the same thing to Felicia too, huh? When she--” You quickly shot the water in your command at Vander’s face, keeping him from going on about that night.

Only the second night Felicia had hung around your group. Another night she and Slico couldn’t seem to stop their endless flirting together. You didn’t think the sip or two left in her cup would ruin anyone’s night completely if it was shot all over her face.

“Alrighty. We’ve wasted enough time going on and on about memories.” Vander pulled a hand from one of his gauntlets to wipe the water you splashed in his face off. He gave you an all too cheeky look, telling you he knew exactly why you wanted to keep him quiet about it around Silco.

“Alright, alright. Lay it on me.” He chuckled.

You and Silco laid the plan out for him carefully before you three were starting for the river once more.

“And they were roommates.”

“Gods--they were roommates?” A pair of enforcers gossiped from where they stood by a street lamp, guns lowered as they gossiped about whatever Piltie drama they had going on.

Just as a beam of light from one of the spotlights up on the bridge moved past them, you collected another ball of water from your canteen and sent it hurtling towards some fish crates further away. The wood crashed to the ground, sending the enforcers rushing off to investigate.

You three were quick to rush for the waters, you sprinting ahead so you would be in the water to catch your friends when they jumped in themselves.

When your feet hit the edge of the wharf, you pushed your body out and downward in a nice, streamline dive. Air rushed around your skin before being replaced with cold water that flowed around you as you curved your body around and back upward.

Just as you broke the surface, you heard a shout. A shout that did not belong to either Silco or Vander and definitely belonged to an enforcer. One that had spotted the two men just as they were jumping off the edge.

One enforcer turned into two that turned into a whole horde rushing about on land, calling at you three. Commanding you to stop. To come back inland.

Vander was the first to hit the water, his large form and gauntlets making a huge splash that sprayed back up at the enforcers who’d just made it to the edge.

Silco hit the water, seafoam eyes catching yours and showing you the trust he held in you just before he vanished beneath the surface.

The sound of guns being cocked and warnings to come back before they would fire rang through your ears.

A spotlight found you and the sinking boys as guns rose a bit higher.

You summoned your magic to dance through your veins and over your fingertips. Felt the waters around you flow faster and faster as you smiled wickedly up at the enfocers watching you.

Water rose on your command, roaring around you as it grew and grew into a wave much larger than any river could have created on its own. Just as you sent it hurtling toward the now screaming and terrified enforcers, you dove into the depths of after your friends.

You found Vander had grabbed hold of Silco, both trying to swim back to the surface but failing horribly. Even though you had taught Vander to swim, he still wasn’t strong enough to carry a whole other person and support himself in the water.

You sent your magic to flow around them both, holding them in a gentle cradle before beginning to quickly pull them further down and across the river.

You shot through the water with ease after them, catching up to Silco first. He grabbed hold of your wrist as you created a small air bubble around his head. A bubble that funneled thinly upwards to provide fresh air for him to breathe the whole way.

Silco gave a deep inhale of air, eyes wide and scanning over your face as he pulled you closer. You allowed it, quickly dipping your face into his bubble to rest your forehead against his.

“Okay?” You asked as Silco nodded against your skin.

“Yes.” You titled your face so that you could place a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

You pulled away from him then, gliding the sort distance to Vander who was looking a little more panicked than Silco had been. You made quick work of creating his air bubble, Vander giving a sharp curse as he gulped down air. With a sheepish little sorry face and a pair of thumbs up, you swam away, body moving through the water like a human-shaped dolphin.

Your magic kept Silco and Vander close by as you swam them across the river. Fish drew to you like you were a magnate, which was a typical occurrence when you were within or sailing on a larger body of water like this. They came and tickled at your cheeks as they brushed against you in their way of a hug.

“Are you a mermaid?” Vander asked from just a little bit behind you. You found him watching you in stunned curiosity, while Silco was watching you in that warmly soft way he often did. A way that made your stomach flutter like a group of minnows had swum within its lining. You created a small air bubble for yourself so that you could respond.

“Ha. No. I wish. I’d get a kick-ass tail if I was.” You grazed your fingers over a gray-scaled fish, it moving closer as if it was some waterbond cat.

“Then--what are you?” He asked as a look filled his eyes. A looked those kids you had saved years ago had given you too. A look filled with awe. In wonder. In a yearning for something beyond comprehension.

It was a look that made you feel not human.

You instantly regretted showing him your magic. Instantly wished to dive deeper into the depth just to get away from that look.

“She’s human, Vander. A born mage.” Silco spoke, coming to your defense and taking that look from Vander’s eyes.

“Oh--yeah. Of course. Just curious.” You gave him a small smile in understanding. One that turned into that of utter gratefulness as you looked back to Silco. He smiled gently for you, fingers moving within the small current your magic was creating as if he might reach for you. You almost reached for him too, but you kept swimming onward.

The other side of the river came upon you in the passing of a few more minutes. You surfaced, leaving the boys below in case of an ambush.

It was quiet Topside. Not a single enforcer marching up and down the wharf. No spotlights or gates. The bridge seemed to have been unattended this side of the river. All you found was a sleepy stretch of cobblestone and buildings far nicer than anything the fissures had to offer.

It made you worry.

You had made a show of using your power against those enforcers. A mistake in using them so blatantly, but you knew if you hadn’t, those guns would have been fired and they would have hit you or worse--your friends.

The enforcers should have been on high alert over here in anticipation of your arrival…

Maybe they just believed you drowned in that wave. Maybe they thought it had been a natural occurrence and you’d been swept away in it. That the boys had sunk to the bottom of the river never to see the sky again.

You glanced over your shoulder back towards your stretch of home.

Spotlights still roamed the land and waters. You could just vaguely make out enforcers rushing about over there, still in a panic over you three slipping past.

Maybe they just haven’t had time to get over here yet and in that case, you all needed to move fast.

You pulled the boys to the surface, keeping them cradled in your waters until you had placed their feet on the ground Topside. Using your magic to push you onto land, you were quick to grab for Silco’s hand. He grabbed it back just as you were opening your mouth to tell them of your thoughts when light blinded you.

The sound of armor clanking and voices shouting filled your ears and you knew instantly you had led your friends into an ambush. You knew just how foolish you had been in thinking they wouldn’t have alerted their people over here.

“Put your weapons down and your hands in the air. Slowly.” Your eyes adjusted to the light to find you had been surrounded by enforcers, guns aimed straight at you all.

Silco’s hand was tight in yours. A tightness that became slightly tugging, like we was trying to slowly bring you behind him.

Vander’s gray eyes found yours. Then they found Silcos.

Hard eyes. Determined eyes. Eyes that seemed to be begging for a fight.

“I said--” A blur shot at the head enforcer. Metal slammed into his face so hard, you saw teeth and blood fly.

Vander had been that blur. Those gauntlets of his looking more wicked than any knife or gun the way he was attacking. Attacking any and all enforcers that he laid eyes on.

A gun booming to life and the heated air of a buttle narrowly missing your face spurred you into action. Silco let go of your hand just as you let go of his, the both of you grabbing for the knives strapped to your sides and hurling yourself into the fray.

Your body twisted and weaved and sliced through an enforcer.

Then another and another and--

A gun was slammed sideways into your face, pain screaming through your nose as it gave a sickening crunch. Pain that you snarled and bit back against before you were cutting down that enforcer.

Your fist slammed into another oncoming enforcer's jaw just as a body slammed into yours.

Skin broke upon impact with the cobblestone. A fist pounded into your temple, momentarily turning your vision blurry as you roared and reached blinding for the body on top of yours. You grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled with all your strength, causing the enforcer to shout.

Another wild fist hit you in the shoulder as you yanked her downwards, rolling so you could jam a knee into her stomach to keep her pinned down.

You had just raised your fist to attack when a gun was pressed against your throat, yanking you back and off of the enforcer, the tightness enough to sharply cut your air supply off.

You gagged and gasped, fingers fumbling to try and alleviate the pressure when your eyes caught sight of Vander.

An enforcers had jumped onto his back. Then another. And another and another until Vander was brought to his knees under the weight of them all. A new wave of enforcers appeared to point their guns at him, shouting commands and threats his way.

You found Silco a little ways away, sprawled on his back, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead as two enforcers pointed their guns directly at his heart.

Their fingers tightened on their triggers.

Their eyes--they were getting ready to fire.

Seafoam's eyes frantically glanced around the wharf. Eyes that found yours. Eyes that were--remorseful. Apologetic and full of the gentle softness he only ever showed you.

And you knew then he knew there was little to no chance of escape from the guns pointed at him.

You sucked in as much air as you could around the pressure against your throat and gave a ragged scream into the night air.

You felt the waters in the river roar in answer. Felt the waters between the cobblestone cracks answer. The water in the pipes and fountains answers. Felt them begin to swirl and rise and rage.

Your blood boiled.

Your vision blurred.

Your ears filled with ringing so loud it drowned out your friends and the enforcers before you.

Seaform eyes smiled.

Silence washed through your ears--through your being.

Ba-dum…ba-dum…ba-dum…

A heartbeat rang through your mind. A fastened one. One that was beating heavily against the activity it was doing.

It was a sound your magic cocked its head at in curiosity. A sound that faded out into soft roaring…like a flowing river.

Water.

It was water you were hearing. Water that called to you to take and command. Water you did just that too.

The enforcer behind you gave a pained sound. A sound that spurred you to push those strange waters harder. To make them rise and rise until the enforcer was dropping their gun to the ground.

You found them on the ground, clawing at their throat as they gasped for air. Found their eyes watering and pooling over. Waters that bubbled from their nose and ears and mouth. Waters that ran red.

And you pushed it higher until they slumped over, the light having left their eyes.

“What the fuck!” An enforcer nearby shouted. “Holy shit! By the gods! You--You’re a frea--” You grabbed hold of the strange waters flowing within his veins. Watched him panic at the relation that he was next. Watched him run and scream in pain and trip over his own feet.

You watched as those waters poured out of him in the same manner as his comrade.

You watched him drown on dry land.

And you should have found it sickening. The hollowness gnawing at your senses should have told you that. The warning bells that rang through your mind.

These were not your waters to command.

These waters belonged to those enforcers and those enforcers alone. Just as Nadia’s blood you had struggled to control had been hers.

It was something you were never supposed to have power over.

It wasn’t a part of you.

Not like how the waters in the river were a part of you. In the streams and pipes.

It wasn’t you.

That chilling hollowness pushed your body forward. Had your powers latching onto the two enforcers who had been a hairs width away from ending Silco’s life. You commanded these dark waters once more with little care about whether they were yours or not. Not when these people were trying to kill your family.

You raised your other hand towards the enforcers holding Vander down as the two began to drown before Silco’s eyes. You commanded their waters and watched them claw and cry and scramble before they joined their comrades.

Vander was quick to his feet, eyes wide as he gazed upon you.

Fear.

That hollowness hardly let you register it though. Not when your magic felt more enforcers rushing your way. Enforcers you stopped in their tracks with a daggered glare their way.

You felt--powerful.

More powerful than you’d ever felt.

It felt sinnful but gods it was near addicting. An addiction you wanted to cave into as you set your sights onto the bridge just a few feet away.

You felt as if you could go up there and end it all.

Felt as if you were strong enough to march through the streets of Piltover, find their foolish councilmen and just end their terrible reign.

That hallowness laughed in agreement with you. It egged you on. Told you to take that first step. Had your feet moving towards the bridge. Moving past Silco who was still sat, watching you slinetly.

He called your name quietly as the winds blew through the streets.

He called your name as the winds rushed around you.

He called your name and The Winds called it too.

“Stop.” The Winds commanded.

Your feet kept moving. Your veins boiled and pounded screaming out for more, more, more.

The Winds whipped around you like a tempest.

Your vision blurred and black dots danced in their corners.

When had it gotten so hard to breathe? You wondered and yet that dark energy kept pushing and pushing until those dots overtook you.

“You don’t know what you’ve meddled in, little one.”

Your eyes flew wide at the voice. One you hadn’t heard for years. One you thought abandoned you and everyone in the Lanes.

You stood and you felt your throat tightened.

You were no longer on the wharf.

You were no longer in reality.

Endless sky.

Endless night.

Stars twinkled and galaxies bloomed silently before, upbove, and below you.

And you--you weren’t you--

Your waters whirled over your skin. Was your skin--your body.

A strangled sound pulled from whatever strange mouth you possessed in the horror of it all.

You were--you must be dead. That was the only explanation for this all.

“You have not died.” That voice spoke again. You snapped around to find your guardian and--terror gripped your soul.

A begin made of gold and white and wind floated before you. One with wings sprouting from its arms and hips. One with bird's feet and clawed hands. One whose face was smooth gold with a halo of that same gold circling over its head to match.

“You’re--you’re an angel.” You croaked out in horror. The angel shook its featureless head, gliding closer to you.

“I am Janna. As you know…though--also as you don’t.” Her wings gave a ruffle as if saying you’d never seen her this way.

“Janna--no--I--where are we?” You were beginning to panic. To freak out.

“Do not be afraid.” She tried to soothe.

“Fuck--FUCK! Don’t be afraid? What the hell am I supposed to feel?” The being--Janna--gave another ruffle of her wings.

“Feelings have little to do with this. You have touched powers that do not belong to you.” You’re throat only continued to tighten. It was so tight you thought you might suffocate right then and there. “Those souls were not yours to take.”

“Souls--you mean those enforcers?” Janna didn’t move. You would have said she was just watching you if she had had any eyes to watch you with. “The ones that had been trying to kill me? Kill Silco and Vander? I was protecting the people I love.” Janna again was silent. Was again unmoving.

You gave a frustrated growl, whatever fists you had balling.

You’re fear--oh, it was turning into anger. An anger Janna and Janna alone could only ever bring out in you.

“You know what--screw this. Where the hell have you been? It’s been four years.” Your waters flared around in answer to your rising emotions.

“It’s been…four years?” Janna repeated slowly. “Truly?”

“Fuck!” You hissed. “You are meant to protect us! You. And you can’t even bother to know how long you’ve been gone!” You took a step closer to the floating spirit who looked more like a god in that moment. “Where have you been? Why have you been gone?”

“I’ve been guiding the heart and mind of an interesting young woman. One whose battle with the Gray aligns with my own. I’ve been overseeing her progress.” You scoffed. Scoffed and couldn’t help the pinch your heart gave.

Some young woman? Some random girl? Someone who wasn’t you? You were Janna’s ward.

“If you can’t get rid of the Gray, no one can.”

“She will keep it at bay within these…vents as she calls them.” You just watched her in utter--shock. In anger and rage and wrath. Oh you were pissed.

“Let me out.” Janna’s feathers ruffled. “Let me out of whatever fucked up purgatory you have me in right now,” Janna said your name like a warning.

“I brought you here because you went beyond your realm’s limits.”

“I don’t give a shit. Let me out!” Your waters began to swarm around you. Faster and faster they whirl.

Wind whipped after it. Wind that tried to grab hold of you and keep you in this horrid place.

“The Arcane is our master. We are not masters of it. You challenge it, it will destroy you.” Janna called around the roar of wind and water.

Stars began to move.

Galaxies.

Everything was swirling wildly around in the tornado the Winds and Waters created.

“You hurt another creature we are meant to preside over,” Janna continued, “and I will stop you.”

And there she was.

The Janna you had known your whole life. The strange, wispy elven being who had raised you. Whose glowing eyes seemed to--no…no you’re mind was play tricks on you but…they looked to be begging you to stop. To forget the dark power you had tipped your toes into.

It was emotion in her glowing eyes. Emotion she could not and had not ever shown you before.

“Do not make me go against you.” She all too calmly spoke.

Light cracked through the starry sky like the shattering of a mirror. Light that spread and spread till it began to engulf you and Janna whole.

“You will not win.”

It was dark. Dark and…smelled like a homemade meal.

The ground beneath you was carpeted. Soft.

There was something solid next to you. A body. A body that’d slung an arm around your waist to keep you down. You felt your body tense at the realization. That you didn’t know where you were or who was caging you in place.

You readied yourself for a fight. To get up quickly when a sleep-filled voice you knew in seconds spoke, “You’re awake.” Silco’s voice instantly had you relaxing into his hold. Relaxing and realizing just how much pain you were in.

The fight on the wharf. You’d been beaten. Bad and your body was definitely feeling it.

“Where are we?” You whispered back. Silco shuffled closer to you, nuzzling his face against your head.

“We found Nikolai and his friend was kind enough to let us lay low here for the night.” You made a small hum at his words but said nothing further. You couldn’t. Because past the pain roaming through your body, you felt--numb. Strange. Different.

“Are you in pain?” Silco asked.

“Yes.” You felt his body ready to get up, but you were quick to grab hold of his arm, keeping him down. “Just--it’s okay…can you just…hold me.” Silco hesitated at your request. “Please?” You breathed.

Silco gave a small sigh from his nose but settled back against you, his arm now holding you very so gingerly.

You two lay in the dark for a long moment. You listened to his even breaths in your ear. Enjoyed the warmth of it over your skin. Tried to let it take that strange…nothingness ringing in your chest away but…but it was stuck there. Stuck like it was held there with super glue.

Silco whispered your name in question against the shell of your ear. You nodded in answer.

“Are…are you okay?”

Janna’s words rang in your mind. Her promises of fighting you and of her sureness in winning.

You thought of that emotion that had broken over her ever-emotionless face.

She--she had been scared. Saddened and disappointed all in one.

And it rattled you more than you had expected. Left you wondering if you should listen. If that taste of power you had felt was worth making her look like that.

If that taste of power was worth this strange numb feeling in your chest. Worth feeling less than human.

But that power…gods had it felt good.

Too good.

“I…don’t know.” You answered honestly, finally moving to turn your face into his chest despite your body barking at you in pain. Silco held you tightly, fingers moving over your back in soothing circles. “Are…” You swallowed sharply against the tightness that seemed to have carried over from that strange world. “Are you scared of me?” The question was hardly even a whisper. A breathy thing. A scared thing.

You didn’t want him to fear you. Didn’t want him to look at you like those enforcers had. Like Vander had.

“No.” Silco quickly said. So quickly it had almost overpowered your own words. “I would never be scared of you.”

You laid still in his arms for a long moment. Let his firm, unwavering words settle over you. Let them help carry that numbness away…try to carry it away. “Seahorses… remember.” You nodded once more as he kissed the top of your head.

“Seahorses.”

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decayed-cartilage · 2 days ago

Text

The Intern

Masterlist. PT 2

Hannibal Lecter x AFAB! Reader

Warnings for chapter: power dynamic? Mentions of erection.. creepy! Hannibal, Morally wrong! Hannibal

Synopsis: Y/N is on the brink of graduation, with just one requirement left—an internship. Somehow, she finds herself under the esteemed Dr. Hannibal Lecter, a man as brilliant as he is unreadable. Cold, precise, and impossible to rattle, he keeps his thoughts well-guarded. But Y/N can’t help her curiosity—she wants to understand him, to get beneath the surface. And whether he intends to or not, bit by bit, he lets something slip. Something darker. Something she might not be ready to see.

Third person POV

The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed softly against the pavement, a steady cadence that filled the quiet space between them. Hannibal walked with effortless grace, his posture straight, movements smooth, exuding an air of control that seemed utterly unshakable. Beside him, Y/N struggled to match his measured pace, her breath uneven, fingers fidgeting slightly at her sides as she fought the urge to run away. She was trying—desperately—to appear composed, her facade was delicate though as any small disruptor could make her a stumbling mess. But the heat creeping up her neck, she was bound to be seen.

Oh god. This was bad.

"So… you know a good coffee shop around here?" Y/n asked, her voice carrying a forced lightness, an attempt to fill the thick silence stretching between them. Her steps were uneven, a clear contrast to Hannibal’s smooth, unhurried pace. She hated silence—always had. It left too much room for overthinking, for uncertainty to creep in, and right now, the quiet felt deafening.

Hannibal’s gaze flickered toward her, a slow, deliberate motion, as if considering not just her words but the nervous energy laced beneath them. His lips curled ever so slightly, the ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"There is one," he said smoothly, his voice rich and measured. "A quaint place, tucked away from the usual bustle. It’s quiet, intimate—perfect for thoughtful conversation." He paused, his gaze lingering on her for just a moment longer than necessary. "I imagine you’d prefer somewhere… less silent, however."

His words, though spoken gently, carried an undeniable weight, a knowingness that sent a quiet shiver down Y/n’s spine. He had noticed her discomfort—of course, he had. Hannibal Lecter noticed everything.

“N-No, sir— it’s fine. The silence is fine,” she stammered, though even she didn’t believe it. Her breath curled in the crisp late-fall air, dissipating just as quickly as her feigned composure. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, a nervous habit she wished she could suppress. The cool Maryland breeze bit at her cheeks, painting them a soft shade of red, though she wasn’t sure if it was the weather or the way he was watching her—so intently, so knowingly.

Hannibal hummed, his pace unchanging, his presence looming beside her with an unsettling ease. “If you insist,” he murmured, his voice smooth, unreadable. “We’re nearly there.”

The words should have been a comfort. Instead, they only made her pulse stutter. The path stretched before them, damp leaves crunching underfoot, but the walk itself blurred, time slipping like water through her fingers.

Before she fully registered it, they were standing outside the café, warm light spilling from within, the hum of conversation and clinking cups breaking the eerie quiet that had accompanied them. The air was no less cold, but at least here, surrounded by others, she could pretend that the weight of his gaze wasn’t still on her.

First person POV (Y/n)

He stepped ahead of me, moving with that same effortless grace, his hand reaching for the door without hesitation. The gesture was polite—expected, even—but as I passed beneath his arm, dipping my head with a quiet “thank you,” I felt it.

His eyes.

A slow, deliberate gaze raking over me, dissecting me like a specimen beneath a scalpel. I swallowed hard, the air suddenly too thick in my lungs. There was something unsettling in the way he looked down at me, something just beyond my comprehension—cool, unreadable, yet… indulging. As if he enjoyed the vantage point, relished the way I had to step past him, small and uncertain. His expression remained perfectly composed, yet his eyes—slightly hooded, sharp as a blade’s edge—held something darker. Something patient.

Like a wolf watching a lamb stumble too close.

Heat prickled at the back of my neck. No, no—what was I thinking? He’s your mentor, for God’s sake, Y/N! I mentally scolded myself, my hands curling into fists at my sides. I read too much into things. I always did. This was serious—no time for stupid, ridiculous fantasies.

And yet, as I stepped fully inside, my back to him, I still felt it. That weight pressing between my shoulder blades.

Here’s your rewritten scene with heightened tension, more detail, and a sense of Hannibal’s unsettling yet intoxicating presence

I wait for him almost obediently as he steps up beside me, his presence both commanding and intimate. I glance up at him with a soft smile, though my stomach knots with unease. Why do I feel nervous?

“What are you going to get?” I ask, my voice quieter than intended.

He barely looks at the menu. “Nothing too particular—just black coffee. This place has an astounding roast.” His voice is silk, effortless.

I nod, considering his words, my fingers tightening slightly around the strap of my bag. His choice is simple, methodical. Of course, it is. There’s no indulgence, no hesitation. Just certainty.

“And you?” He turns to me, the weight of his gaze unsettling, pressing into me like a velvet-lined cage.

I part my lips but hesitate. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Oh, God.

“I—” I exhale sharply, my voice dropping. “I forgot my wallet. It’s fine, really. I was just hoping to talk anyway.” I force a small laugh, but it feels thin, brittle. My stomach twists. Why does this feel humiliating?

HANNIBAL’S POV (Third-Person)

She flounders, her words tumbling out in an attempt to reassure herself, to save face. The way she stammers, the way her lips part in that fleeting moment of panic—it stirs something in him, something dark and possessive.

She hates this. Hates feeling unprepared, vulnerable. But God, does it suit her.

A slow, indulgent stretch of his neck relieves a fraction of the tension coiling in his body, but not enough. Never enough.

Hannibal watches her for a moment longer than necessary before allowing himself the smallest of smiles. Then, in one smooth motion, he drapes an arm around her shoulders and presses her forward, guiding her toward the counter. The shift in control is deliberate. Intimate.

“No,” he murmurs, voice velvet-soft yet unwavering. “Now, I insist—you’ll pick whatever your little heart desires.” His fingers apply just the faintest pressure against her shoulder, enough to feel the warmth of her body beneath his touch. “Don’t trouble yourself with paying.”

She stiffens. Just for a second. He knows she hates this. Being taken care of. Being indebted. He sees it in the flicker of her hesitation, the way her mouth opens, struggling for a polite refusal she knows won’t work.

“Black coffee, please.” Her voice is just shy of steady, a nervous smile flickering across her lips as she speaks to the barista.

Hannibal watches, utterly amused. So obedient.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, so low it barely exists between them. But she hears it. Of course, she does. And when her skin betrays her—blooming red at the nape of her neck, creeping up to her cheeks—he knows it got under her skin.

Delicious.

With an almost lazy elegance, he presses a hand against the small of her back, guiding her away from the counter. Steering her. She moves where he wants her to, whether she realizes it or not.

He leads her to a small, dimly lit table near the back of the café, nestled away from the rest of the patrons. Private. Controlled. It’s perfect. He waits for her to sit before lowering himself into the chair across from her, exhaling as if this is all rather troublesome.

Then, he leans forward, clasping his hands together atop the table, eyes never leaving her.

“So,” he muses, tilting his head, his voice laced with mock curiosity, patronizing in a way that makes her feel impossibly small. “You wandered all the way here, without a means to pay, hoping, what—someone would take pity on you?”

His lips twitch as he watches her squirm, delighting in the way her fingers curl slightly against the table’s surface, the way her shoulders stiffen just enough to betray her.

He hums, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. Tsk, tsk.

“Now, that’s very irresponsible of you.” His voice is smooth, warm even, like one might scold a child who forgot their lunch. “What if I hadn’t been here, hmm? Would you have batted your lashes at the barista, hoping for a free cup out of the kindness of their heart?”

He lets the words hang between them, stretching the moment just long enough before leaning back, finally breaking eye contact to remove his gloves with slow, deliberate movements.

“Well,” he sighs, a mockery of indulgence, “I suppose it’s lucky for you that I am here, isn’t it?”

His words hit her like a freight train, the weight of them settling in her chest before she could even think to defend herself. Heat rushed to her cheeks—mortifying, all-consuming. A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it, high and breathless, the kind born of sheer fight-or-flight.

Oh, she’s flustered. How delightful.

She covered her face with both hands, shaking her head as if she could physically shake off the humiliation. Foolish girl.

“Sir!” she gasped, the title tumbling out before she could swallow it back. Even better. “I would do no such thing—I would have just walked home! I could have sworn I brought my money, I—” she sucked in a breath, exhaling sharply. “I’m very sorry.”

She was scrambling, trying to save face, but the damage was already done. He had her. And she knew it.

Still, despite her flustered stammering, her smile hadn’t wavered, soft and uncertain, but there. She wanted him to forgive her. To be gentle. To make it better.

The coffee arrived with a quiet clink of porcelain, the barista setting their cups down with a polite nod before stepping away. The scent curled between them, warm and rich, but Hannibal barely acknowledged it. His attention remained on her.

She hesitated for a moment, fingers wrapping around the cup as if the heat might steady her. Hannibal lifted his own with practiced ease, taking a slow, measured sip before lowering it back to its saucer.

“I must admit,” he said, voice smooth, deliberate, “I was surprised to run into you today. And yet, here you are—wandering the park in the cold, with no money and, I presume, no plan.” His lips quirked at the edges. “Is absentmindedness a habit of yours, or merely an unfortunate coincidence?”

She fidgeted, shifting under his gaze, but instead of answering, she reached for the sugar. Then the creamer.

He watched, vaguely entertained, as she drowned the coffee in sweetness—spoonful after spoonful of sugar, followed by an almost obscene amount of cream. The dark liquid turned pale, swirling into something unrecognizable from what it once was.

Hannibal exhaled softly through his nose, shaking his head just enough for her to notice.

“Ah,” he mused, watching her stir the concoction with quiet amusement. “So you don’t actually like coffee.”

Her head shot up from her coffee, eyes wide before she softened, letting out a small, warm laugh.

"I didn’t have a plan—but I think you just caught me on a bad day, sir," she said lightly, as if his words had gone right over her head. She smiled, easy and genuine. "I’m usually the most prepared person I know. I guess I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

She lowered her gaze, stirring her coffee with the small cardboard straw, watching the cream swirl into the dark liquid.

At his lingering silence, she glanced up again, brows furrowing slightly. "What do you mean I don’t like coffee? I love coffee."

Hannibal let the corner of his mouth twitch, setting his cup down with slow precision before gesturing toward hers.

"Do you?" he mused, eyes flicking to the now syrup-colored concoction she had made. "Because from what I’ve observed, you seem more interested in consuming liquid sugar."

She huffed, rolling her eyes as she took a small sip, as if to prove a point. But before she could protest, he tilted his head, watching her with the kind of amusement that always made her stomach flip.

"Tell me," he drawled, eyes twinkling with mischief, mock concern lacing his voice, "are you not allowed to have sugar at home?"

She giggled, shaking her head as if he had just made a ridiculous joke. "What? No!" she laughed, lifting her cup for a sip. "I’m allowed to have sugar, thank you very much. I just—" she paused, grinning. "I like my coffee to taste good."

Hannibal hummed, watching her over the rim of his cup as he took another slow sip. Amused. Indulgent.

"Ah," he said, setting his cup down with deliberate ease. "So, you prefer your indulgences masked, then? Cloaked in something softer, sweeter?"

She blinked at him, not quite sure whether he was teasing or making some grander statement. Before she could respond, he shifted the conversation entirely, as if he had already grown bored of the subject.

"Speaking of preferences," he continued smoothly, lacing his fingers together on the table, "I’ve been meaning to discuss your upcoming internship with me."

Her spine straightened instinctively, the casual warmth in her face flickering into something more alert, focused.

Hannibal smiled. Good. He had her attention.

Hannibal watched the way she straightened, the way the playful ease in her expression shifted into something more attentive. Good.

“I know this wasn’t supposed to be our first meeting,” he began, voice smooth, almost conversational. “And of course, we can always revisit for a more professional discussion.” He tilted his head slightly, observing her with quiet amusement. “But you seem to be enjoying yourself, so I see no harm in giving you a brief introduction.”

He took a slow sip of his coffee, using the moment to study her. The way her hands curled around the cup, the soft furrow of her brow as she listened—so eager, so willing.

How utterly tempting.

His mind wandered, unbidden, to something far less professional. The thought of bending her over this very table, of pressing her into the cool surface while she gasped his name—it was almost distracting. Almost.

The faintest twitch of his jaw was the only sign of his restraint before he continued as if nothing had shifted in his mind.

“You will be assisting me with case studies, research, and—when appropriate—observing patient interactions. Your responsibilities will require a certain level of discretion, as well as an ability to handle uncomfortable subjects with poise.” His gaze flickered, watching for the subtle shifts in her expression. “I trust that won’t be an issue?”

She nodded quickly, almost too eager, and something dark and satisfied curled in his chest.

Eager. Willing. Unaware. How lovely.

“Good,” he murmured. “In return, you’ll have the opportunity to learn in a way most interns do not. You will see things from a perspective that textbooks simply cannot provide.” He leaned back slightly, watching her over the rim of his cup.

The sky had faded into a dusky gray by the time they stepped out of the café, the crisp Maryland air sending a small shiver down her spine. She hugged her arms around herself, her warm buzz from the conversation now shifting into something else—hesitation.

Hannibal, of course, noticed.

He stood beside her, perfectly composed, his coat pristine, his presence unshaken by the cold. She envied that. He glanced at her, expectant, waiting for her to speak first.

“Well,” she started, shifting slightly on her feet, “I should probably get going…”

He remained silent, a brow lifting ever so slightly.

She let out a small, nervous laugh, looking away as if embarrassed by what she had to admit. “It’s just—my dorm is kind of… far.” She winced, as if that might soften the confession.

Hannibal hummed, clasping his hands behind his back. “How far?”

She hesitated, toeing the ground. “Like… a forty-minute walk?”

He blinked, clearly unimpressed.

“I mean—” she rushed to explain, “I don’t mind! I walk all the time, it’s just a little late, and I didn’t exactly—” She cut herself off, feeling ridiculous. She hadn’t planned for this. She hadn’t planned for him.

Hannibal exhaled, the sound measured, patient—almost amused.

“Hmm,” he mused. “So, not only do you neglect to bring your wallet, but you also fail to consider how you’d get home.” He clicked his tongue. Mock disappointment. “And here I thought you were the most prepared person you knew.”

Her face burned. “I usually am! I told you, this was just—a bad day.”

Hannibal tilted his head, considering her, before finally gesturing toward the curb. “Come. I’ll drive you.”

Her lips parted, caught between relief and a sudden, new nervousness.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

His gaze flicked back to her, sharper now.

“Come.”

First person POV (Y/n)

“Come.”

The single word left no room for argument. No warmth, no patience—just a quiet command that settled deep in my chest, making my breath catch.

I nodded quickly, falling into step beside him, though I felt ridiculously small doing so. Embarrassment prickled at my skin, a creeping, uncomfortable heat. I must have looked utterly helpless, trailing after him like some lost lamb.

My fingers fumbled for my phone, more for something to do than anything else. The screen lit up—6:30 PM. The sky had already darkened, the crisp evening air sinking into my bones.

I swallowed, shifting my weight as I glanced up at him. “Thank you so much, sir—I, um—” My voice wavered slightly, and I cleared my throat, forcing a weak laugh. “I don’t even think I’d know how to get back on my own. It’s getting dark so fast.”

I hated how nervous I sounded—small, uncertain. But Hannibal didn’t respond right away. He simply looked down at me, unreadable, before turning his gaze back ahead.

And still, I followed.

The silence stretched between us, thick and unbroken.

My own footsteps felt too loud against the pavement, my breath hitching slightly in the cool night air. Hannibal walked with effortless grace beside me, his presence calm, controlled—completely unaffected by my nervous energy.

I swallowed hard, clutching my phone in my hands just to keep them from fidgeting. My mind scrambled for something to say, something to fill the heavy quiet pressing between us.

“So, um—” I started, forcing a small laugh, trying to sound lighthearted, but before I could even finish the thought—

“Do you make a habit of being this careless?”

His voice cut through me like a blade—low, smooth, yet undeniably condescending. I tensed, my mouth snapping shut, my stomach twisting at the sudden shift in the air.

I blinked up at him, caught between embarrassment and the strange, suffocating weight of his attention.

“I—” My voice wavered. I forced a small, breathless laugh, though it did little to steady me. “I wouldn’t say that, I just—”

Hannibal hummed, tilting his head slightly as if studying me, his expression unreadable. Unimpressed.

“You don’t think ahead,” he stated, not as a question, but a fact. “You leave without your wallet. You wander without considering how to return. And yet, you seem surprised when it leads to trouble.”

I swallowed hard, my face burning.

“I—I usually do think ahead,” I tried again, but my words felt weak. “It was just—”

“A bad day,” he finished for me, voice smooth, knowing. “Yes, you’ve already said.”

I exhaled sharply, shifting under his gaze. I wasn’t sure if I was frustrated or just humiliated, but either way, I didn’t know how to respond.

Hannibal, of course, had no such problem.

His lips curled slightly, something mocking, indulgent in the way he regarded me.

“Then let us hope,” he said, voice rich with amusement, “that tomorrow, you wake up on the right side of the bed.”

I needed to make sure to be more prepared next time

#Spotify #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibalhbo #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher x reader #x reader #slasher #slowburn #dark fic #hbo max

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weaveandwood · 2 days ago

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The Snake and The Crow: Regrets

Pairing: The Viper x Female Rook (Bianca, an Antivan Crow mage) Words: 3.4K Rating: Mature

Summary:

Bianca faces all of her regrets, both in the Fade Prison and outside of it. Ashur deals with a fading mind. AN: Surprise! I got the chapter done early and was able to get it posted before the scheduled Wednesday update date! I've had a lot of this chapter sitting waiting to be used for a bit now, and I'm so happy to get it out for you to read.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Read on AO3! Previous Chapter

Bianca blinked open her eyes. How long had she been out? Her head hurt, her vision was swimming, and every muscle in her body was screaming. The last thing she remembered was Ghilan’nain dying and everything going to shit.

What happened? Everything felt wrong, like the air was thick and the color had been leached from the world. It reminded her of something. Almost like…

She sat up quickly, her head spinning, and saw a yawning chasm, not unlike the one she was used to when talking to Solas. There was someone on the other side, a woman. Bianca tilted her head, squinting to get a better look.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

It was her.

“Your work is done,” he had said, looking down on her with a mixture of pity and disdain.

She curled in on herself, panic beginning to course through her veins. She was trapped. Solas had betrayed her, used her to escape this prison made for gods and left her to rot. Her breathing quickened along with her pulse. She looked around this greyed out wasteland, desperate for anything that could get her out of here. Something.

She thought she heard the faintest whisper on whatever would pass for a breeze here—there one second and gone the next, but it sounded so much like him. Like Ashur. But it couldn’t be him, not really, not when he was still alive, or as alive as the blight would allow him to be. It had to be either a trick of the Fade or her mind. Still, she stood up, following where she thought the voice went. He was impossible to ignore.

“There has to be a way out of here, I just have to find it. Then I can…What? Make things right?” she laughed to herself, bitterness replacing any humor. Her voice sounded loud and out of place here. Neve, Davrin, Assan, Lucanis…all dead. All because of her. Again. This is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault . Her old ghosts came back to haunt her, like they had for weeks after the blighted dragon razed Minrathous.

“Hey, kid. Solas found a way out, now you need to find yours.”

She turned in a circle, looking for the source. Another voice on the breeze. First Ashur, now Varric? Her mind had to be playing tricks on her, craving something familiar, something comforting. Nothing in the Fade made sense.

Stairs, though. Stairs were good. Stairs made sense. She started to climb. Another voice filled her head, the familiar shape of a friend flooding her vision as larger than life statues appeared before her.

“I told you the enchantments were dangerous, but you chose me anyway. Who will protect Dock Town now? It’s like you want to see it wiped off the map. I trusted you, and it got me killed. Just like you killed Ashur.”

Each of Neve’s words were perfectly sharpened to cut her where it hurt the most, each syllable a quick stab, poised to kill. They echoed around her, a whirlwind of pain, dragging her out to the sea and pulling her under. This is my fault .

“Rook is not to blame.” That same faint whisper. Was it in her ear, or her memory? She couldn’t tell either way, only that it was Ashur once again providing a small act of mercy, stopping her from collapsing in on herself just as he did the night the dragon razed Minrathous. The flurry of daggers stabbing at her soul with every beat of her heart fell to the ground and she could breathe once more. This wasn’t her fault. This prison was locked by regrets—she couldn’t afford to dwell on them anymore, not if she wanted to get out and finish what they started.

“I made a choice. I live with the choices I make. The successes…and the failures. We all believed in this. The real Neve knew what it might cost.” She wasn’t sure who she was saying it out loud for. This fake Neve surely didn’t care. Maybe it was just for herself.

More stairs. With shaky hands, she continued. What would she face next? Who would she face next?

“Whatever it takes, that’s what you told us. You lived it every day. You asked a lot of us, of the team. But you asked even more of yourself. After everything you’ve done? It was my turn to make the sacrifice. And I’d do it again. Without a second thought.”

A tear fell down her cheek. Davrin was supposed to be living a new life, finding new purpose with Assan and the other griffons. He was more than his sacrifices, he mattered outside of his death. And now he was gone.

“I’ll make sure your sacrifice matters, Davrin.”

“What about mine?” Varric asked. He was no trick of the Fade, as real as anything here could be. She wished she was imagining things, that this was just a dream. Wake up, wake up, wake up .

Solas had betrayed her yet again. Used her this entire time. Fooled her. He certainly had earned his many titles. She felt her magic deep within her, dulled by this prison but heated and burning with rage all the same. He was lucky this wasn’t a prison locked by wanting to throw him off a cliff, weighted down by the heaviest of stones or she would never break out. She looked at Varric and her fire gave out, extinguished by overwhelming grief she had not yet been allowed to feel. He had been…all this time…

“I think I knew the truth, deep down, but I couldn’t face it because it would mean admitting I let you die.” This was my fault. “I made a call, and it got you killed.”

“Haven’t you learned anything, kid? I made the choice, even knowing the risks. My decision, my sacrifice. You don’t get to take that from me.”

Varric always had a way of making her see things clearly. Everyone made their choices, they knew the risks. She may have been the leader of the team, but it was not on her to shoulder everything. It was not on her to diminish their sacrifices, to take away their autonomy.

Even me , the faint whisper said. It is what it is .

She closed her eyes, allowing it to seep in, filling every empty space within her, grief replaced by acceptance. Of course Ashur would challenge a dragon by himself to save those less fortunate than he was. Of course Davrin would distract Ghilan’nain to allow Lucanis to take the shot. Of course Neve would offer to break the wards. Of course Varric would try to reason with his old friend. They were who they were.

It is what it is.

“Rook!” She heard Lucanis’s voice in the distance, relief flooding her so quickly she thought she might drown in it. An arm grabbed her through the pale light she had been walking toward the entire time without realizing it, the place where the veil was thinnest.

“I’d say good luck, but you don’t need it,” Varric called as she was pulled through, reunited with her friends once more.

She wanted to believe him.

Dear Ashur, if you’re reading this, I didn’t make it back from Tearstone Island .

Dear Ashur. Dear Ashur. Who was Ashur? Was he Ashur? He must be Ashur.

The thoughts in his head were dissonant, making it nearly impossible to focus sometimes, but when he thought of her, he was able to find himself once more. He was Ashur, The Viper, so many other masks, and she was Bianca, Rook. Gone. Betrayed. Pulled into the Fade by the Dread Wolf. The very one who was assisting Minrathous at this very moment with holding back the blight and Elgar’nan. It had taken all his restraint not to use what little magic he had remaining when he saw Solas. Had he been healthy, unblighted…but he wasn’t. He didn’t have the strength to focus his magic on anything but keeping the blight within himself contained, just for a while longer. Just a little while.

His brief hold on his focus was waning, the call of the Blight growing ever louder. It would be so easy to succumb to it. For some reason he couldn’t recall, he didn’t want to succumb to it.

Through blinding mist, I climb a sheer cliff, the summit shrouded in fog, the base endlessly far beneath my feet. The Maker is the rock to which I cling

The Chant always provided him with comfort in times like these, he had said to her the last time he saw her. He did not know then it would be the last time he saw her.

Her? Who was her ?

Bianca. Bianca. Wild curls, ocean blue eyes, spark and flame. The letter. He went quickly to the desk in his room, no longer at the Shadows hideout but in his home that was too grand for one who was just a man. A man, not a title. The letter lay there, well-read with edges crumpled and stained with drops and smears of black blight. He skimmed, looking for his favorite part:

I had already started falling in love with you.

Love. It made his magic spark to life once more, warmth flowing through his veins. Something it had not done these last weeks once he learned she was gone. They were trying to get her back. He could not do anything but pace his room, a fate worse than this blight for a man of action.

It called to him. Sang louder than The Chant at times. He had fought this for months, but it was winning. Tendrils of inky black coated his body, the dripping proof of his injury everywhere he touched. Perhaps it was better she did not see him like this. He read the letter again, his eyes stopping once more at her confession.

I had already started falling in love with you.

He had loved her from almost the beginning, that was one thing he remembered. He never got to tell her and now it was too late. So many secrets, so many lies, so many things he thought he was protecting her from. For nothing. She was gone and he would be soon. A faint thought of “It is what it is” echoed through him, anger rising. The blight sparked, feeding on it. He didn’t want acceptance. He wanted her. He wanted love. He wanted to be selfish for once in his life.

Why wasn’t he selfish? Who was he? A glance at the letter. Dear Ashur. He was Ashur.

A soft knock at his door. The blight within him surged, the song begging. Rip. Attack. Tear. Feast. He swallowed it down. His magic was so tired of swallowing it down.

“Enter,” he called, as much as he could. His voice was weak for the first time in his life, used to echoing through the Chantry or the hideout, leading his faithful. No more. A man opened the door. He had a vague flicker of recognition. Who was he? Tarquin. Tarquin.

“We just got an urgent missive. They have her—she’s back. They’ll be fighting Elgar'nan tomorrow.”

Something he once recognized as relief flooded through him. The end. It would be over tomorrow. He could hold on just one more day, join the fight. He knew he wouldn’t survive it, but he could help. He sat down and grabbed his pen, hands shaking from the effort.

Bianca, I have succumbed - either to illness or violence but either way I no longer remain on this side of the Veil and have gone to the Maker’s side. The truth of the matter is this…

It was time to write his own confession. For her.

It turns out, you don’t have to be trapped in the Fade to be in a prison of your regrets. Regret didn’t have to be a statue of a fallen friend, the memory of one you didn’t realize was lost, or the voice of someone you were on your way to losing. Regret could take the form of a pair of warm brown eyes looking down at you, a trusted friend who could be more. Who you thought you wanted to be more. It could take the form of a pair of violet wings wrapping around you in comfort when they were usually used to aid in violence. It could be the gentle press of lips followed by a more urgent one, whispers of “you’re here,” and “I promise.” It could feel like hands that are not the ones you truly want tracing the shape of your body. It could feel like dancing on the knife’s edge of love, but with the wrong person. It could feel completely right, but completely wrong at the same time.

She wanted this. She didn’t want this.

He wanted this. He didn’t want this.

“Wait,” Bianca said.

“What is it?” His brows knit together, the crease between them present once more.

“This isn’t…we shouldn’t, Lucanis. I’m not what you want. I can’t be what you want,” she said. She couldn’t be a statue in his own prison of regrets. Something he looked upon and thought if only I hadn’t.

“You—I want you, Rook, as you already are. I thought you knew that. I thought you felt the same,” he said, sitting back on his knees between her thighs. Lies. To her, to himself, to everyone.

I do. I don’t. You do. You don’t.

She was silent. She saw him start to retreat back into himself, the pedestal of her sculpture already formed in his mind. How do you tell someone that you want them, but that you want someone more? Someone you can never have, someone who will be on the other side of the Veil sooner than either of you would like, someone you would have gladly stayed in the Fade to meet once more? How do you tell them you know they feel the same about you—the wanting and the not wanting, constantly at war with each other.

“I thought I did. I want to.” She had thought, when he came into her room moments ago, that she could love him fully, that she would be able to forget everything else and have only him. He understood her, he trusted her, he had been there for her through it all. His was the first voice calling her name as she was pulled from Solas’s prison. She had been so close to falling before, what was stopping her now? She had been so good at lying to herself her entire life, why would her heart not let her lie about this?

She had fantasized about it, being with Lucanis. The Demon of Vyrantium, the First Talon, the rogue who almost captured her hardened heart. The man who would kill with pinpoint precision then come back and make her churros because he remembered her favorite drink was hot chocolate. Daydreamed how it would feel to be a part of something, fully, and have a family with the Crows she always felt like she was on the perimeter of, just inches away from belonging. She had wondered how those hands would feel on her body, in her body, and now that they were…they weren’t the right hands.

It’s not fair to him. He deserves more. She deserves more. She sat up, still in her undergarments but feeling completely naked in front of him.

“Lucanis, I–”

“I thought we had something, Rook. Why are you pulling away now? After all this time?” he asked. “Why would you—”

“Lucanis,” she interrupted, smiling softly. “You don’t want this either, it’s just easy . I’ve seen how you look at Neve. How you smile around her. You don’t smile like that around me. And I don’t think I can smile like that around you. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll be able to smile like that around anyone, at least not until…”

His face softened. “At least not until you know…”

Neither of them could bring themselves to say the hard truth. Until he was dead .

She nodded, though her head barely moved. Her hands in her lap suddenly were the most interesting thing in this room—anything to avoid seeing the hurt on his face. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

They sat there in silence, moments dragging out into eternity. Would the Fade reclaim this space with the two of them frozen in this position, the stone of the Lighthouse crumbling around them while they sought to avoid looking at each other? Would the glass separating them from the aquarium crack and deteriorate with age, the fish long gone due to lack of care, the plants that brought her so much comfort with their rhythmic floating on the currents crumbled to the floor below while they avoided saying anything that mattered?

She felt a hand on hers. It may have been moments, minutes, hours, or decades later, she couldn’t be sure. She looked up to see him looking at her, his eyes warm and soft, a knowing smile on his face. A tear she didn’t even know had formed escaped down her cheek. He reached forward to brush it off her face.

“I still can’t believe we found you. I thought we’d never see you again, that I’d never see you again. That you were lost for good.” He laced his fingers with hers, still fighting the war between wanting and not wanting.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, I’m afraid,” she said with a half smile. She brushed her thumb against his, fighting the same war. Her heart tugged and pulled, Lucanis and Ashur on opposite sides. Something growing or something dying, something expected or a beautiful surprise, something easy or one of the hardest things she’s ever experienced.

Why did she always have to choose the difficult path?

“You’re right. About Neve,” he said after a few moments. “You’re always right, Rook. It’s infuriating sometimes.” He cocked his head to the side. “Spite agrees.”

She let out a small laugh, her fingers sliding out of his after his confession. “Well if Spite agrees, who am I to argue that?”

She wanted to cling to him, to tell him it was a joke, that she was only kidding— “Oh, you know Rook, never serious!” She faced the prospect of being alone, truly alone, for the first time the day after tomorrow and she had to admit she was terrified. But that was her sacrifice to make, for Lucanis to be as happy as she was in those hours before the dragon attacked Minrathous and all of her hopes were as blighted as the man she hadn’t yet admitted to herself she loved. That she still loved. That she would love, until it was over. Maybe long past that.

“Will we…be okay?” she asked, tentatively. She didn’t want there to be any issues or unhealed hurts between them, especially when they both went back home to Antiva to resume their lives—him as First Talon, and her as a thorn in Viago’s side.

“More than okay, Rook,” he said softly, brushing a curl from her face and tucking it back into place. He kissed her softly, one more to add to her small collection of kisses from him that night. One tentative and sweet, one desperate and urging, and one for goodbye. She stared at her empty hands, lost in thought while he dressed and left, the door to her room closing with a gentle click.

She lay back on her sofa and turned toward the fish, her constant companions. She watched as they swam to and fro, free to go where they pleased, wherever the current took them. She wondered, as she contemplated how her life would look after tomorrow, if she could be afforded that same option. Throughout her entire life, she realized she had never had a say in where she ended up, always a pawn in someone else’s plan for her. To be able to go where she pleased…it sounded like a luxury she used to only dream about on those cold nights surrounded by other orphans in Treviso, or when she was huddled up under a threadbare blanket distracting herself from her growling stomach back in Vyrantium. She had seen so much of northern Thedas now, she was changed through and through. How could she go back to her old life? Did she even want to?

As her eyes fluttered and finally closed, she found her head at war with her heart. She knew her heart would win.

She always did choose the difficult path.

#viper x rook #ashur x rook #the viper #the viper datv #datv the viper #ashur datv #ashur #my writing #datv #dragon age the veilguard #the snake and the crow #the snake and the crow fic #bianca de riva #viper x bianca #ashur vesperian #Vianca #viperook

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bunny-jpeg · 1 hour ago

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sinful sentences (eight)

fernando alonso - "someone should punish you for that."

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/40s), dirty talk, mafia au, enforcer!reader x mafia boss!fernando, dom/sub dynamic, established relationship/marriage, injury, spanking & punishments

sinful sentences catalogue

"she turns quite a few heads." mark said as he shifted his stance at the sight of you in the warehouse with your hand curled into the bloodied button-up of a man fernando had been looking across spain for.

fernando chuckled as he watched you throw another punch. watching you defeat men near twice your size was one of fernando's favourite things to observe. to see his beloved enforcer take care of the alonso family. he placed took his handkerchief from the front pocket of his suit. he replied, "well, i think if a man looked at her the wrong way they'd be dealt with."

mark looked to his close friend and asked, "you'd kill them?"

fernando made a face and shook his head, "no, no. she'd kill them." then approached you to give you the handkerchief to clean the blood off your hands.

"my angel." he said as he examined your fists once you got home to your lavish home out in the country. he guided you further into the home and towards the kitchen, "you didn't need to hurt him that badly. he was more than willing to give us the money." he kissed your cheek and you melted a little against him.

"his face annoyed me." you said grumpily, "he looked like he would do something like this again. harm the family."

fernando left you by the kitchen island and went to grab ice for his little enforcer. he replied, "you mean our family, right, my love? after all, according to the license, we share a last name. that means we share the family." he wrapped ice in a dish towel and went back to tend to your bruises. you were in much better shape than the man who was brought before your fury. but still, fernando didn't want your knuckles stained purple with bruises.

"thank you, nando." you said softly. you felt the mask you wore for the family start to slip. underneath, was his wife. the woman he met after you tried to save him from a wallet thief. and then became closer to him than any bulletproof vest. no one suspected you to be his wife, not even the likes of mark webber knew about your marriage.

he touched your face gently and you looked him in the eyes as his other hand dabbed the make-shift ice pack against your hands. he said to you, "you didn't need to turn him purple. liam lawson is a name that carries some weight outside of here. especially with the likes of verstappen. and we don't want to anger him right now."

you made a face, "verstappen is not fond of him because leclerc isn't fond of him. i'm doing them a favour. he is a sniveling little rat who owed us money. i sent a message." you showed no remorse in your language. your husband found that exciting.

fernando made a face for a brief moment then smiled at you, "someone should punish you for that." then his dark eyes looked at you and you felt a thrill run through you. you could take fernando in a fight, but sexually, you were on your knees like your husband was a god taken human form.

you swallowed and leaned further into his touch on your face. your eyes closed, "i solely give myself over to mister alonso." a phrase of confirmation, that you wanted your husband. some may call you an attack dog, but you were simply a puppy to your lover's touch. especially when he cared for you so deeply.

he kissed you softly on the lips and said, "good, i love when you say those words. they sound right to come off your lips." he continued to ice your hands before he took the less bruised one and led you to your lavish bedroom.

you were a successful boxer, but that felt like a life time ago. fernando saw promise in you. he saw something in you that no one else did. no one took you seriously because you were a woman, but not fernando. no, fernando saw what you were capable of, and what started out as an arrangement for an enforcer for the alonso family, turned into a deep romantic relationship. and your mafia boss of a husband was more than willing to take care of every mark left on your body. you were powerful and fernando cherished you.

you were stripped over your clothes, fernando touched the softest parts of you. your ass and your thighs, his hand lingered before he kissed you. you moaned into the kiss, any pain in your hands were taken away by your lover's tender kisses. you moaned into the kiss and fernando pulled away.

"bent over the bed, my love." he said, "you need to remember for next time to not be so brutal towards men who didn't deserve it. on the clock, you listen to me. right? i'm the boss and you gave yourself over to me." he reached for your shoulder and found the lion tattoo you had been given to signify your place in the family.

you nodded, "yes, sir." then pulled away to bend over the bed. you knew that you probably didn't act the smartest. but your loyalty was undying, your belief in the family was unwavering. sometimes that meant being abrasive, being the muscle that your husband believed you to be. when you felt the slap across your left ass cheek, you tensed up but fernando rubbed the skin.

"don't flinch, you are stronger than that." he said with a softness to his tone, "you know that you are safe and you are loved, you are taken care of by me. now and forever." he kissed the center of your back before he landed another slap, then another, than another. each time the skin burned but not as much as the fire of want through your core.

you swallowed and held onto the covers as another spank hit across your skin. you felt the stammer in your heart as the pleasure built in your body from the punishment. maybe you were a glutton for the pain. he continued to smack your ass and you let out a small moan. it only made your husband rub your sore behind.

"you are always do good for me, my love. you know exactly how to make a man like me weak. your beauty, your power, it all comes together like a symphony. your moans are music to my ears." he kissed your shoulders before he landed another harsh smack, "but you need to listen. you are not above orders, my love. you are an important part of my life, so that is why i cannot have you beating men until they are purple." he landed another spank across your ass and added quietly, "if i lost you, my dove. nothing would keep me from tearing the earth in two." then turned your head a little to lean over you and capture your lips.

you understood. you weren't just his enforcer, you were his wife. eventually he broke the kiss and he patted your behind before you scrambled into bed onto your back. your breathing was a tad heightened from the feeling of your husband's strong hand across your ass.

"you're amazing." he said as he stood at the foot of the bed and undid his button up shirt. you swallowed and shifted a little on the bed, his praise made your ears burn, "you are beautiful." he said quietly. he looked good at his clothes came off, you saw the tattoos on his skin and you swallowed.

he looked good with the ink on his skin. even your initials on his hipbone, which was an addition when you got married. he said that a ring was permanent enough. once everything was off, he climbed into bed with you and took you in his arms. he admired you for a moment before you started to kiss deeply.

"fernando."

he eyed you once more before he got between your legs, "you are by far the more impressive woman i have ever laid eyes on. there is a certain magic about you that keeps me so enchanted by you. you're perfect, beautiful. everything to me." then felt a surge of want through him. he added, "you have made my life so different, thank you." then held onto the covers with one hand while he guided his cock into you gently. you tensed for a moment, but you relaxed against the bed as he got all the way inside of you.

"you feel good."

"you feel better, my dove." he replied as he started to move against you. it felt good, being this intensely close to you. two pieces of a whole, there for one another. he felt want for you, but he also felt total devotion towards his wife. he liked that you were powerful enough to beat anymore, but he also wanted to protect you. you were his wife, his love! of course he worried for you.

he promised that he would dedicate his life to you, and even though you were beyond capable. he worried about his wife. he held onto the covers tighter, not with both hands as he pace quickened.

"fernando, there is no need to flirt with me. i'm already your wife." you said lovingly.

he leaned in a little closer and felt the love in his chest, "oh, my love. just because we are married doesn't mean i stop loving you. if anything i should be more loving." his tone was like honey and his words only made him sound more sweet. it made your heart race and and smile a little. fernando continued his movements, he eyed at you closely. he watched your expressions as he licked his lips. he felt a similar want in his body. he felt something pull you in closely.

you held onto his shoulders tightly with your hips partially raised to give fernando the best angle to fuck you. which almost made your toes curl and feel the sparks of want in your head as the two of your made love on the bed.

"you feel amazing, fernando. fuck. i love you."

"and i love you."

you kissed once more, you kissed deeply with an insatiable want for him. your nails grazed across his shoulders as your lover kissed you on the lips. it felt amazing, your stomach was in knots in a way that excited you. you exhaled deeply against him, you felt the flow of want through you. you moaned against his lips as he clutched the covers tightly once more. you exhaled deeply and felt the thrill of want through you. you clenched your legs around his waist as he worked your body against his. it only felt right, perfect halves of a whole.

he picked up pace until he was really working your body. you cursed under your breath as you felt the surge of want through your core as his thrusts hit all the right parts. it was a kind of perfect that made your head spin with sexual want.

you moaned loudly with an intense want as he pleasured you. you felt hot all over, everything felt erotic to the feeling of him. you loved him, you loved your husband with an affection that went soul deep. you said to him, "fernando! ah! nando!"

he groaned before he asked, "how does it feel, my dove? does it feel good for you? you love how i make love to you, how i make you feel good." he felt his heart hammering in your chest. he put his hands on your hips as he worked against you.

orgasm felt close, the pleasure felt immense in ways that made his heart hammer quicker. he held onto you tightly and fucked you with a fever that could not be matched by any other feelings. he panted heavily and your nails dug into his shoulders a little tighter.

you shuddered a moan and the pleasure just rocked through your body in a made that made your toes curl. you held on tightly and arched your back. it washed over you, you said sweet words to your husband, "i love you. more than anything, fernando. you give me all the love i'd ever desire. i'd ever want. fuck."

fernando licked his lips, "what a beautiful woman, so powerful. and yet so beautiful under me. you look divine, my dove. more so than anything else in this world. i cannot get enough of you." he said with a total sense of love in his tone. his kissed you once more before he went in for a heavy kiss.

you moaned against his lips as he finished inside of you. your tightened your legs around his waist as you stayed there kissing. with fernando's pace slowed to a stop. just enjoying the feeling of one another before your husband laid out beside you. he pulled the covers that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed all the way to the top. you held onto him lovingly and let your head get petted by your husband. you sighed happily and let yourself enjoy his company. his love.

"you are so perfect." he said softly as he held you in his arms. you loved him deeply in return and laid curled up with him. fernando was a scary man in spain, but laid out with you. he was your loving, perfect husband. and you, his wife <3

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fictionalmenxyn · 4 hours ago

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞? 𝐍𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞... 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

Pairing: tutor!Rafe x Student!Reader

(Reader is 18 and Rafe is 23)

Warning: p in v, protected sex!, slight degradation, language, fingering, palming,

꥟꥟꥟

You sat in your seat, you felt as if you wanted to curl up into a ball; wanting to hide yourself away from the embarrassment you’ve just made for yourself.

You’ve just practically admitted to Rafe that you were acting different because you believed that he would find that attractive.

You froze. Embarrassed for what’s to come.

You were shocked of his reaction, more so lack of one. He just looked at you, as if he was still taking his time on processing what came out of your mouth. He tapped his fingers on the desk. Then chuckled a little. He then had let go of your jaw. Using the hand on the desk to stable him as he leaned back against it. His slacks tightened around his thighs as he leans back. He looked you up and down.

He asked you “you think I prefer popular girls?…”

You nodded slightly, avoiding his bright blue eyes “I- I mean you always look over to them in class… and you always help-”

He stopped you right there, a finger to your lips as he brought his face closer “do you really think I like popular girls?…you are so wrong, sweetheart… so so wrong.”

Your eyes widen at his words. He smirked a little.

“You’d think I’d find some dumb popular girls prettier than a girl who is smart and listens to what I say or do and actually understands what I have to say?” Shaking his head as he still held that smirk. “You think I find those overloaded makeup girls prettier than a girl who hardly or never wears makeup and shows her true beauty?…-” you go to talk but he cuts you off. Placing a hand on your thigh as he continues “-who I think is pretty just because I know she’s doing good for herself than thinking she’s better than anyone else cause they flash their cash.” You were speechless. He lifted your chin so you had to look into his eyes. Rafe added “Sweetheart, you are way more than those sluts of popular girls… much much more…”

You were shocked, he… liked you? Over the popular girls?…

He smirked softly as he moved his left hand onto your waist. “You’re such a pretty girl…” he kissed your cheek softly. He asked “this okay with you?…” you nodded before you could even register. This has been in your dreams many times… you couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

He moved his left hand down to your hip and left it there for a few moments. He pecked your lips softly “can I do more, darlin’?” You nodded, mumbling “y- yeah… s- sir” he chuckled “call me Rafe… we aren’t in college setting now, sweetheart.” You nodded. “Yes, R-Rafe..”

He smirked “damn my name sounds good coming from your lips… gonna get you to moan it next…” you started to feel less embarrassed. Smirking slightly, you felt yourself coming back to yourself. You replied “oh yeah?” He nodded “ohh yeah…”

He guided you over to his desk. Sitting you onto the desk as he stands between your spread legs. He places his hands on your thighs. He tilted his head down so his forehead leans onto the top of your head. He whispers “think someone might be excited, hm?” His hand moves up your thighs. Under the skirt you wore, thinking that’s how ‘popular girls’ dressed.

He talked softly “y’know, if you wanted to impress me that bad… I would’ve like to see you in those long skirts you wear… you style them very nicely… I appreciate that about you..” god he really was striking all the right nerves.

His hand moved over the now dampened panties you wore. You gasp softly. He kissed your cheek “this alright for you? You seem to be enjoying this little ‘chat’ of ours…” you nodded. He then leans in and starts to kiss you. Softly at first but started to grow more and more intimate. His hand moves slowly in circles against you. Humming into his lips as he does so.

He pulls away a little but takes your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment.

He looked into your eyes, gently tugging onto the fabric of your panties “let’s lose these, hm? May I?…”

You nodded, almost desperately. But nonetheless excitedly.

He asked “life these pretty hips up f��me will you? thank you, sweetheart..” he gently tugs them down till the drop to the floor.

His left hand quickly moves back between your legs again. Creating those circles he just was doing, except this time, no barrier between you. You gasp softly at the action. His gold signet ring cold against your heated skin. He smirked softly, he slipped his index finger into you. You moan a little, he said “god that’s a pretty noise, sweetheart.” He slowly pumps the index finger in and out of you.

His right hand gently massages your hip. In this moment, you look down to his now tightened slacks. See his large bulge. There was a slight talk of your college that he was packing. You don’t doubt it one moment. So you did the most thing you could do at this time.

Reaching your hand out, you palm his slacks. He groans a little then smirks. “Want to feel it a bit, hm?” You nodded. He stepped closer to you so your arm wasn’t as stretched out as much. He spoke “there you go, sweet girl, go ahead…” you then started to palm him as he adds another finger into you. You’re both moaning quietly, trying your best to keep it down.

He then pulls his fingers away, causing you to whine a little. He opens his mouth and cleans his digits off.

He then unbuckles his slacks and tug them down. Leaving him in his silk button up shirt and his black Ralph Lauren boxers. He then sits back into his desk chair and pats his thigh “c’mere…”

You hopped off of the desk and straddled his lap. He reached into his desk, searching through a drawer then pulls out a small golden square.

He lifted the packet for you to see, the condom waved in front of your eyes. He asked “would you like to-?” Before he could finish his sentence you replied “yes, Rafe… please…” he smirked “good girl…” he handed you the packet after using his teeth to open it. You grab the rubber with your right hand. As the other hand slowly pulls his boxers down.

As you tug them down low enough, his large cock springs free. Hitting his shirt covered abdomen. He smirked at your reaction “like what you see, baby girl?” You nodded “so the whispers were true, hm?” “Of course… id never lie about something like that…”

You placed the rubber over the tip. Then rolled it down him. His hips twitched up and the feeling of your fingers on him. He then held your hips as you got into position and started to sink down on him. You both moaning at the feeling of you both. He groaned lowly “fuuuuck… feel so good, sweetheart… shit.”

You gasps softly as you almost get to the base of him. You then feel him massaging your hips “you got it… take all of me…” you then lower yourself more. Sitting right against him, he praised “good girl… taking all of me like that, so pretty…”

Before you know it, you’re riding on top of him as he reclines in his desk chair. The classroom filled with smacking noises and your moans and gasps.

That familiar feeling in your stomach started to rise. He could tell to. He was observant and the way you were tightening around his cock was also a sign. You gasped “Rafe… I- I’m gonna..”

He smirked “you gonna cum?… let me help you…” he quickly lifted you off of him. Laying you on the desk. He stands in between your legs once again. Quickly slipping back between your soaked folds. He starts to thrust his hips into you. Gripping your hips tight, in the cusp of brushing. He spoke “gonna be a good girl and finish f’me? Hm? Gonna cum all over my cock? Wanna do that for me?”

Nodding as you gasp. Your legs closing a bit at the fast sensations. He noticed that. Grabbing your legs and pushing them back open and against the desk “hey hey… keep… them… open f’me…”

You tilts his head back and grunts as he quickens the pace. Both of you started to hit the finish line. He groans “ahhh gonna cum… fuck…” you nodded “yes! Yes, please… Rafe…” he smirked “say my name…” you gasped his name over and over. You look into his eyes “there! I’m cu-”

You gasped as he kept going. He then to rode his high out. He then started to slow down then came to a stop. He brushed a few strands out of your face. Leaning down and giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He mumbled against them looking into your eyes “gonna have to make this arrangement more often, don’t you think?” “Y- yes…” he smirked and helped to clean you up.

Soon enough you were about to leave his class and hopefully make it to the last bus of the college day. As he buckles up his belt he calls out “hey, Y/n… the buses are probably gone… lemme take you home… so I know you got back safe, please?” You turned around and nodded “okay, thank you…” “no- thank you…”

God this wasn’t gonna be the last time was it?… nope… it’s Rafe Cameron after all…

꥟꥟꥟

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romana-after-dark · 22 hours ago

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Our Gentle Sins: Part 16

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

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Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi

Chapter summary: Past. Logan does it. Present. Wade makes a plan.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

EXTRA WARNING: Violence, shown sexual violence again.

3.2k words

Before

Logan tried, he really did try to pay attention as you spoke but it was getting harder and hard. Your biology was calling to him.

The red string of fate tied you and him together, growing shorter and short with every horror the two of you had endured and now, now Logan felt it had come to a close; the string was taught, pulling him to your finale.

“Can we crack a window?” Logan asked, hoping fresh air would allow him some breathing room. Unfortunately, a gust of breeze blew your scent right too him. Logan groaned, a sound almost in pain as he hardened, the animalistic side of him clawing for release. How could he smell you like this, look at you, have you so close to him and not take you as his? Logan wanted to erase every last presence of Mark from your body, from your mind. He could give you what your husband never could. You could give him what Jean threw away.

“Are you okay?” Your brow furrowed looking at Logan as he stood, eyes closed. He looked almost… in pain; his knuckles whitening at his balled fists.

You wouldn’t pretend you understood Logan all the time. He had strange behaviors, did and said things you didn’t get but honestly, it was probably the same for you. Two strange people, possibly sharing a life together.

The way he respected you needing time only endeared him to you more, and you know most of your friends considered you dating already. Seeing the joy on Kurt’s face made you want to say yes, yes you were together, you were in love, it was your happily ever after. But time was what you needed. It hadn’t been more than 6 months since you left your husband, and in a strange way you were still mourning his death.

It wasn’t a true loss, not in the way you knew was normal. You hated him, but a part of you loved him. Really, it had little to do with Mark; you mourned your parents too. Remy said it was because you held so much love in your heart.

‘I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t sad, pistache, but I’m not sure dat would be you.’ Remy assured you it would go away, the way you missed the people who had been staples in your life. ‘But for now, allow yourself to feel. You have so much love in your heart, you feel so deeply, it makes sense you miss dem. De were ya whole life, the good and da bad.’

You’d been married to Mark 7 years, of course you missed him in a sense, especially when you had nearly no life outside him, no friends. He was your whole world, and things weren’t always bad. There were more good times than bad, which always made that bad so much worse. Charles said there would be complicated feelings, and assured you they were no thought crimes, there was no wrong way to feel.

“Lo, how about you sit down?” He looked pale, it was worrying you. Taking his large hand in yours and walk the few steps to the bed. “Do you want me to call Hank? Or Jean?”

Logan’s eyes snapped up to yours, alight with a fire that made you nervous. “Do not call Jean.”

A familiar nervousness flooded your system, the type of anxiousness that settled into your stomach and screamed fawn, fawn, fawn. Something in your head said get out, but why? It was Logan. Just Logan. Your Logan.

He was hurting your hand.

“I won’t call Jean…” You spoke softly, as if trying to placate a wild animal, and it worked. His eyes softened, and although he looked no less sick he abruptly dropped you hand.

“You should go.”

This made you frown. “Do you want me to get help?”

He shook his head. “No, no, I just- Dolly, you should go. I’m fine just, listen to me.”

But you were stubborn as you were scared, determined to figure out what was happening. He worried you, you didn’t like to see him in pain.

You step forward, and you swear you hear him growl. “Logan?”

Logan snatched your wrist, yanking you between his legs and trapping you. Your whimpers mean nothing when you're thrown onto the bed, Logan crawling on top. You can feel his erection through your dress and your stomach lurches, but when you try to push him you find you’re practically nothing under him.

“Logan, what are you doing?”

“Need you.” He leans in for a kiss and god help you but you kiss him back, trying to calm him, give him a little to hold him over.

“Logan, please get off, y-your scaring me. We said we’d wait, right?”

He said he’d wait. He’d wait. He’d wait for you because he loved you and you loved him and he would have you but he just had to-

“WAIT!” With all your strength you shove at him, attempting to maneuver the little room your body had to get out. You were determined to not make this easy; you refused to let Logan ruin your relationship with him.

But Logan was too much, dropping the full weight of his body onto you and knocking the air out of your lungs. While you’re distracted, he takes both your wrists into his hand and wrenches them back painfully far, his lips on your covering the scream in pain. Fingers digging deep bruises into your wrists and you feel yourself giving into the pain.

“That’s it, baby doll, just relax… let me in…” Hands pinned above you, slightly less painful now that you stopped fucking but a bruising grip still there, Logan’s other hand undoes his belt and you know what's happening.

Falling. Drifting. Weightless on the bed you try to not go rigid. It’d only hurt more if you did, you knew from experience. He gets what he wants. He always does. They always do. You’re just a tool to them, something for men to use in their own little ways. The tears come, and Logan’s gentle hand cups your face with a tenderness so different from the way he breaks you open on himself, cooing your name as if that would make it better.

Logan is just like Mark.

Just like your father, who while never touched you was complacent in the horrors that happened. Your father, who probably did the same to your mom, who was grooming your brothers to not ask, just take. Your father, who arranged and blessed the marriage.

You think to the men in your life because it’s easier than thinking about what Logan is doing to your body; you vaguely feel touches, but if you take your attention away, you learned from being with Mark you could leave your body behind.

Were they all like this? Scott, with his strict moral code, would he take you given the chance? Kurt was religious too; if you’d married him, would he feel entitled to your body? Did Charles think you owed him? Pietro, Hank, Warren, Bobby, was it all just a matter of time and chance?

Would Remy eventually think his friendship meant he was owed you? Remy, sweet Remy who’d been your rock all this time, did he want you this way, and would he take it given the opportunity?

Were you destined to be at the mercy of men your whole life?

“Please don’t cry, dolly, please?” Logan’s voice brought you back to reality, his face nuzzling you and you’re forced to reckon with the pain between your legs. You felt naked, even with the dress still on; a vulnerability you wanted to share with Logan but not like this. Like this.

“Please stop…” You whisper to him, and even as he ravages your body you reach up to hold his face. Your eyes hold his blue ones, pleading. “We can forget this, you don’t have to do it like this, we can-”

“Oh Dolly…” Logan’s movements slow, sympathy melting into you and for a moment you think it’s over, that you can put this behind you. He kisses your nose, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry…”

“Lo-”

“There’s no going back after this.”

After

“You know I gotta tell Charles, right?”

Logan just huffed out a scoff. “Scott’s been telling him for months, if he didn’t believe slim, he’s not believing you.”

Wade couldn’t sleep all night, echoing over everything Logan said to every, everything confessed.

Wade never claimed to be a good guy, not really. He wasn’t a hero, wasn’t even an anti-hero, like that one terrible Taylor Swift song. If he was a Taylor Swift song, he’d be Lover, given his skill to get his lovers screaming. Or Bad Blood. That too.

Anyway, he doesn’t have to explain it to you, dear reader, only so much time can be spent fleshing out a character in short form media such as fanfiction when said character is already established in a franchise. You’ll forgive his inner monologue if it just scurries along.

He wasn’t what they call “morally pure” by any means, but Wade wasn’t a rapist, and he didn’t hit innocent women, nor is he the kind of guy to just allow it. Like a serial killer in prison murdering child molesters, even he had a line.

Problem was, he was too evenly matched with Logan. He couldn’t do this by himself. And, honestly, Logan scared him. Not in the sense Logan could kill him, no, they tried when they first met to kill each other, it didn't work. But the Logan he knew wouldn't do what he did to you. Something changed, and he didn't like it. Logan would die before he left you alone, he'd kill you before

That’s why Scott was standing in the hall, having been rudely interrupted by Wade banging on his door at 5 AM, standing in his PJ’s and sleep mask. “Professor doesn’t believe me. My wife doesn’t believe me, so much so she’s sleeping in another room. It’s useless.”

“So what? You’re just gonna fucking leave her with Logan to get beat and raped again? What about the kid? That’s not very dime store captain america of you.”

Scott shot him a look. “Look at me, Wade. You look at me and tell me I’ve given up on this.” he looked… rough. Even his dick sucking lips looking less supple than usual. “My life is fucking falling apart because I won’t give up, I just don’t know what to do.”

“KILL HIM!”

Wade found himself slammed against the wall, mouth covered and Scott looming over him.

“You think I don’t want to?”

“You’re not gonna win, bub” Logan looked at Wade’s hand itching for baby knife. “Even with your guns and swords, you can’t win. You know this.”

“No, I can’t. But Scott can.” Wade watched Logan’s eyes narrow, and he knew Logan didn’t know the times him and Scott fought… Scott was holding back.

“If I kill him without evidence, I’m no better than a lawless vigilante!”

“You suddenly in your booklicker era?”

Scott shoved off of him. “I’m not saying that, I’m saying-”

“Xavier sanctioned killings only, huh? Well, I hate to break it to you pretty boy but he’s too busy jerking off to the idea of world peace to notice the shit tone of stress that’s gotta be radiating off Judith’s head!”

He rubbed at his temples. “Wade, listen, you don’t get it. I need more than just me wanting him dead. I’m not immune to biases, I’m aware.”

Wade groaned, stomping his feet like a child. “I am here telling you-”

“You’re not exactly the voice of reason here, Wade.”

“So if I get a voice of reason, you’re in?”

Wade sat in an office, one he chose specifically for the swirly chair he now used to look out the window. When the door opened, Scott bringing Remy, Wade whirled around.

“I bet you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here tod- God dammit! What’s the twink doing here?”

Scott brought in Remy, but also Kurt, Logan’s OTHER best friend.

“Kurt’s going to have the most generous opinion, I need something to counter the everything about you.”

Wade feigns offense, his hand to his chest as he gasps. “Moi??? Well, if I’m the devil on your shoulder, I thought this sweet little buttery bouillon cube was meant to play the angel.”

The cajun laughs, but not without a hit of nerves. “Remy has been called a lot of things, but rarely an angel, Angel.” he gives a little wink, then settles into something more serious as he fidgets with his playing card, moving them from one hand to another. “Is someone gonna tell us what de ‘ell is ‘appening?”

Scott borderline ignored him, addressing Kurt to Wade. “Kurt is one of Logan’s only friends in the mansion, I needed someone whose going to go to bat for him, at least.”

Kurt’s worried questions about Logan were once again ignored as Wade complains. “Of course he’s gonna go to bat for him! Kurt’s not gonna believe any of this.”

“HEY!” A blue cloud of smoke appeared between Scott and Wade, Wade could practically see the ‘BAMF!’ in the air. He looked angry, but mostly scared. “Vill someone please tell me what is happening vith my friend?”

Wade looked a Scott, and Scott started. “Logan is abusing Judith.”

If Kurt had anything more than yellow in his eyes, they would have seen his rolling them to accompany the movement of his head. “Not dis again. Mien friend, you know I respect you, I respect your leadership and judgement, but I’m afraid you might be a little clouded on this one.”

Remy stayed strangely silent.

Wade shook his head. “‘Fraid not, my favorite microdose of catholic guilt, he admitted it to me”

Remy’s head snapped to Wade now. “Whaddya mean? Logan wouldn’t ‘urt ‘er. He loves da girl.”

More somber than he’s been in a long time, Wade tried to explain. “He told me. Confessed. Woke me up from my beauty sleep to admit he hit her after the party. You can ask Jean, she treated her for a concussion.”

“Dat doesn’t make any sense!” Kurt cut in, clearly going on the defense. “Jean vouldn’t let Logan just go if he hurt her!”

“She told her she slipped and hit her head, dumbass!”

Scott stepped up, defusing it and explaining to Kurt. “I asked Jean, she was coming back from the med bay, said Judith hit her head. No suspicion, and after everything…” Scott sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t think she’d believe me if told her this now… if she’d stand me long enough to listen.”

“Scott’s failing marriage aside,” Wade interrupts with a glare from Remy. “Logan admitted it to me. There’s some physical abuse here and there but... “ Even Wade struggled to say this. “He raped her. That’s how Stevie happened. Rape.”

The word rape hung in the air, falling around them as Remy and Kurt took in the words in their own ways. Wade could see gears turning in Remy’s blue and red eyes. Kurt? It wasn’t going well.

Remy spoke first. “Dis isn’t one of your games, is it cher?” He asked Wade. “Because dat is my best friend, I will die for her, i will kill for her and dat baby. I will kill Logan is that's true.”

“Remy!” Kurt’s voice pulled their attention. “You can’t seriously believe this, do you?”

“He ‘as no reason ta lie. Dat’s ‘is friend too, if he’s telling us dis, it has to be true.”

“No! Logan vouldn’t do that!” With a furry not usually known to Kurt, he storms up to Wade, shoving at his chest. “Vat are you doing? Stop zis game before someone is hurt!”

Wade looked apologetic, his scared face regretful, but he knew what had to done. “I wish I was joking, beautiful.”

“He’s being serious. All the evidence is there. How she acts with him, the scratches on her back, the time line of when she suddenly became withdrawal…” He looked to Remy. “You notice any changes in her in December?”

Remy’s face paled. That was enough of an answer. “Her nightmares… dey got worse. Every night for weeks I woke up to her scream’n…”

Kurt threw his hands in the air. “I won’t have any part of this! If you three doubt Logan even after all these years, I don’t even want to call you my friends!”

With a cloud of blue, Kurt was gone.

And then there were three.

Wade filled Remy in on everything he knew, everything Logan admitted to him, and Remy believed him.

More importantly, he agreed on what had to be done. Logan wouldn’t let go, he was possessive, he was obsessive… Scott would offer him a chance to stand down, to let Jean or Charles into his head for the truth or Scott would kill him.

Remy was hesitant, and Wade understood it. Logan was there friend, both off them, but Scott reminded him of Rogue.

“If he did it to Judith, he could do it to Rogue.”

“No.” He sounded firm. “He wouldn’t. Dat… Dat is different to him. She’s special to him. But you are right. C’est fou, it needs to be done, for pistache.”

It had to be done, but this needed to be over.

Unfortunately for Scott, he knew he needed to eat breakfast before the confrontation.

This egg sandwich was going to be fucking phenominal, he just knew it. Scott didn’t consider himself a particularly good cook. He was nothing like you or Remy, and Ororo definitely outshown him as did Bobby, funny enough, but he could get by pretty well. He learned out of necessity; he knew he could be in any variety of situations made him want to be able to cook… the fact he learned how to season was for Jean.

He tried, he really did. Grand gestures after he’d been absent too long in his own head of breakfast in bed, trying his best to be attentive but never quite being the man he wanted to be. He couldn’t quite allow her in, and Jean wasn’t the kind to settle. Well, she did for a long time. For years, he knew she just… allowed it. There wasn’t much else, they’d known each other for so long and there simply weren’t many other men in the mansion at the time.

Then the x-men grew, and Jean, who had been isolated for so long, got to see that Scott was not the be all end all. There was more out there. Better.

There was Logan.

It was selfish, he knew, to be glad it was you instead of Jean, but he was, even if it was just a little. He loved her, he loved her so fucking much but he just wasn’t going to be what she needed, and he had to let her go. They were holding onto nothing.

He was gonna do right by both of you. Guilt ate at him at what he’d allowed to happen, the type of person he let into the mansion and around vulnerable people. What if he was right about him and Rogue all those years ago?

He was so busy chewing and looking out the window, he didn’t hear the footsteps.

It’s time. He’ll face the consequences after.

“I won, Slim”

Scott felt his head yanked back by his hair, choking on his breakfast sandwich. That didn’t matter, because seconds later there were claws in his throat and it was over in a flood of red.

RIP SCOTT IT HAD TO BE DONE!!!!

it was actually almost remy lmfao sorrrryyyyy but i decided that was too much like ROF

anyway.

THINGS ESCALATED only a few chapters left!!!!

What are you guesses for the ending? who lives who dies?

and our official poll....

thank you for all the love!!! you are amazing people!!!!

I may be starting a new blog soon. I want to become more politcally active and although ive REALLY locked things down since evrything last april, I worry there reminants that could connect my real life to here, so i think starting over is the safest. besides, ive been getting v uncomfortable anons lately.

also totally irrelivant but

I GOT TICKETS TO SEE BOB DYLAN IN APRIL!!!!!!!!! so excited i love his music. Im well aware the show will be TERRIBLE bc bob dylan is known in my music circles as the worst show youll ever go to but youll go because its bob dylan. lol.

ANYWAYyyyyyyyyy

back from vacation yay!

start new job this month and ill be makinglike $4 more an hour ;-; and 200 a month for student loans, baruch atah adonai

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia a @new-genesis100 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

#logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #fem reader #wolverine smut #logan x reader

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mamanamao · 2 days ago

Text

show me, p☆rnstar

Cpt. John Price x Trans Masc P☆ Reader

Part 1/?

word count:

tags: nsfw/mdni, dom price/sub reader

a/n: genitalia is referred to as cunt/pussy, clit, etc just in case that makes you uncomfy, now please enjoy my first time ever writing smut lol (also this just a quick intro to a small smut series dedicated to every trans masc with daddy issues, aka me) no use of y/n, I cannot go that farback

Being an upcoming porn actor on the internet was the last thing you had imagined would be what helped pay for rent and your last year of college but here you were. Men paid for personal videos, and twice a week after classes you’d live-stream yourself riding silicone that made you wish was the real thing or test out adult toys from sponsors, and yet you never felt full or satisfied. Of course, you had no regrets about your career choice but nothing could bring you that high that your friends would talk about when they’d gush about how amazing having sex with their partners was. You tried dating men left and right, tried signing up for dating apps, tried the god forbidden speed dating but no one caught your eye. Even one night stands felt boring by now.

There was someone on your mind though, someone who you couldn’t even put a face to, just an anonymous name, bravo06. It was silly to think about one of your followers this much, to have the memory of hearing your little alert play everytime he dropped hundreds of dollars on you just so his request could be top priority, and he’d always just ask for something simple, to moan out his username or give the camera a pretty little smile, it definitely caught your attention when it happened the first time. Usually others would drop this much just so they could request more outlandish shit that made you wonder how the hell they came up with that.

You wondered what he looked like, what his voice would sound like against your ear as he plunged his fingers deep into your cunt. It was so overwhelming, especially when alone at night you’d try so hard to imagine the kind of man he was as you held a violet bullet vibrator against your clit and drilled thick silicone into your dripping pussy. Moans filling your lonely apartment as your head fell back against cotton pillows, leaking cum onto the towel that was laid out underneath you. Was this wrong? Jerking off to some anonymous stranger who literally paid you just to entertain himself, maybe.

It was another one of those nights, setting up your tripod in front of your bed, making sure everything was clean and neat, LED lights glowing a soft blue into the room. Yes, anyone would prefer red but you liked how blue light made you look on screen, tempting. As you made the last of your preparations you started to wonder if he would be watching tonight, a rush of excitement running down your spine to your thighs, kind of made you a little giddy. Oh what you’d do to give him a private show. Honestly, it surprised you that he never requested one, that was a service you offered for the same amount he’d drop on you every live-stream but he never did, you always wondered why.

#captain john price #john price #call of duty #smut #trans masc reader #m4tm #fanfiction #fanfic #mlm smut #mlm ns/fw #captain price

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xsweetcatastrophe · 3 days ago

Text

you broke me first

part 33

authors note: i’m back, what’d i miss

Zoe sat at her desk at work, staring at the blank screen. She had an article to write, but her mind was elseware - specifically, the text messages from Cillian she received this morning.

She thought about it as she got dressed, as she combed her hair, as she tried to find shoes that went with her outfit. She thought about it so much, she burnt her toast in the toaster and almost left the house with Scout still out in the backyard.

She ended up making another piece of toast; she was nauseous again, probably because of how her morning went. She inhaled it as she drove to the office, wiping the crumbs off her shirt as she parked and speed-walked into the building, hoping she got to her desk before anyone noticed she was 20 minutes late.

Once she made it to her office, she closed the door and sunk into her chair with a sigh of relief. She made it; she was behind on all her assignments and now she can hide out until 5, keep the office door closed, put her head down and just work. Shen she can leave and dwell on this some more.

That was the plan, at least.

And, you should know by now, nothing in Zoe’s life ever goes to plan.

Which brings us here, 12:30pm, with Zoe staring at her blank word document and her mind on Cillian.

Her phone buzzed. Her heart dropped, but saw Dana’s name and released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

dana: hey! leaving pilates now, you still want to meet for lunch? Wanna do the cafe on the corner by your office?

Zoe quickly replied with a yes, and grabbed her bag. She put on her sunglasses and slowly opened her office door, peeking out to see if anyone was there.

Empty hallway. The front door is right there. A quick getaway. I can do this, Zoe thought.

“Excuse me, Zoe, do you have a minute?”

wrong.

Zoe turned around and saw Donna there with a legal pad and pen in her hand. She looked like she was about to go into Zoe’s office.

“Hey! I actually don’t, I gotta run to a lunch meeting..” Zoe lied.

“Oh great! With who?” Donna countered.

“Uh.. Emma Stone’s manager. Still hasn’t gotten back to me with a date yet. Gonna get one today.”

Donna’s smile faltered. She blinked and broke eye contact, giving off the feeling that she knew she was being lied to.

“…okay. I still need a lot of stuff from you, the Jennifer Garner storyboard you wanted to do… I can’t pitch anything to her people without a gameplan- ”

“I got it Donna, don’t worry. I’ll get it to you today,” Zoe asserted. Shit, i haven’t even started that.

“Let me know if you need Mia to take some stuff off your plate, the junior writers are here to help” Donna said, walking away coldly.

whatever. i’ll deal with that later.

—————-

Zoe sipped her iced tea and poked her overpriced salad with her fork. She had three, maybe four bites tops. She had no appetite.

She just told Dana everything, and she currently had her phone looking at the texts that Cillian sent.

“that is… so bizzare,” Dana replied, handing the phone back to Zoe. “It’s like night and day. This isn’t the man that picked us up from the bar that night. He sounds like a dick.”

“I was scared of this happening..He assured me that it wouldn’t. And here we are,” Zoe said, sighing.

“Have you texted him back? or called him?”

“no, he told me not to.” Upon hearing that, Dana’s hand fell to the table.

“Zoe, for God’s sakes, stop letting a man tell you what to do.”

“Dana, don’t start..” Zoe groaned.

“No Zo, i’m serious. Don’t let this scrub drag you from across the world. It’s not fair and i’m sick of it. You are an amazing girl and my best friend. He should be so disgustingly in love with you that your phone doesn’t stop going off from texts and phone calls. You helped him out so much in such a short time, helped him organize his new house while he’s off filming, and he talks to you like that? Beat him at his own game. If he wants to be cold and tell you not to text him? fine. but YOU go out and live your life. don’t sit at work dwelling over this. Don’t text, don’t call, don’t think about him -”

“Dana i’m staying at his house,” Zoe interrupted.

“GOOD. Stay there until he kicks you out. Look at you, I bet you got no work done today, right? because he has this much control over your emotions, all the way from across the ocean. Put yourself first babe,” Dana begged.

“It’s not that easy, Dana, I…I really opened up to him…”

“Just because you opened up to him, does not mean that you are obligated to put up with being treated like this. I’m serious, i’d make him sweat this. Fine, don’t contact him until he contacts you. But let’s go out later. Let’s have FUN. We’re young and pretty and live in one of the best cities in the world…. and you’re staying in a mansion for free. Hello???” Dana added, trying to lighten the situation.

Zoe sighed. She knew Dana was right, she didn’t deserve to be talked to like that. But Dana also knew how insecure she was, and how this will effect her for months. She wasn’t strong like Dana was and she knew that.

“Zoe,” Dana said, interrupting Zoe’s thoughts. “look at me.”

Zoe took her eyes off her sad salad and looked at Dana, bracing for whatever she was going to throw at her next.

“Do you remember when you told me you were visiting your sister, and when you both picked up Sophie from daycare, the teacher said she was being really bad and was ‘being like a brat’?”

Zoe stared at her. “yes.

“And what did you do?”

Zoe knew where this was going. “I told the teacher to never speak about my neice like that again.”

“….and? i think you’re leaving a part out” Dana hinted.

Zoe sighed. “And i said if she ever called her a brat again, she can have a meeting with me, her aunt who is 10 times more bratier than her and knows how to punch.” Zoe concluded.

“There you go,” Dana said. “How would you feel if one day, Sophie’s boyfriend talks to her like this. How would you feel? what would you tell her? Why can’t you take that advice for yourself?” Dana smiled, reaching across the table and squeezing Zoe’s hand. “You know, you’re someone’s daughter too. Someone’s aunt, someone’s sister… someone’s friend,” Dana said softly. “I know if i came to you with this, you’d tell me exactly what to do. I just want you to want more and better for yourself. I don’t want you putting up with this kind of stuff. Or this kind of treatment from him… or ANYONE, in any type of relationship in your life, wether it be boyfriends, friends, work relationships… put yourself first. Please. I love you.”

Zoe blinked back tears. She was right. Dana was right. She won’t admit it out loud, but she was right.

“Ok,” Zoe whispered. “you’re right. i don’t have control. over anything. including my emotions. It ends here,” Zoe said with a sigh.

“I’m here for you,” Dana said. “no matter what. You. First. No exceptions.”

“What do i do when he calls?”

“Just be short and to the point. that this isn’t going to fly if this is how it’s going to be. and if he can’t handle it - BYEEEEE” Dana said, yelling the last part, causing some people to turn and look.

Zoe couldn’t hold back from laughing. She loved Dana for this exact reason. She was the perfect cheerleader.

“Okay, okay!!” Zoe said, picking up her glass, holding it out. “here’s to me, and me only”

“and that big ass house you’re staying in until he royally kicks your ass out” Dana replied, clinking her glass against Zoe’s.

——————-

Zoe had just gotten back from a run when he called.

Shit, shit, okay, okay, Zoe thought, placing Scout’s leash on the counter. she took a deep breath and hit the green “accept”

“hello?”

“hey! I haven’t heard from you all day”

“sorry. I was busy.” Zoe replied coldly.

“oh.. anything good?” Cill responded.

“Work. Stayed late to catch up on stuff. Went for a run with your dog.”

“my dog?” Cillian replied. “okay, okay. how was work?”

“fine.”

Cillian knew something was wrong. “what’s wrong, bunny?”

“I’m just tired, i want to go to bed. I had a long day”

“okay, well go take a bath and relax. I have another late night ahead of me.”

“Yea? another cast dinner?” Zoe spit out before she realized what she was saying.

“Oh yea, you saw those pics i assume,” Cillian chuckled nervously. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, Cill. enjoy your dinner. I’m taking care of everything for you back here. Tell Lizzie I said hi,” Zoe said before hanging up the phone.

Zoe dropped the phone on the counter as if it was on fire. Her heart was pounding so fast, she couldn’t believe she just said that.

Her phone buzzed a minute later:

Cill: baby, stop. don’t let those thoughts get in your head. i love you.

Something about him texting her immediately after felt … empowering?

Zoe didn’t respond. If he wanted to go to another dinner with Lizzie Longlegs, that’s his prerogative. She had a shower to take and her own dinner to date to go on.

He didn’t need to know her “date” was Dana.

———————

Cillian stared at his phone, at the last message she sent to Zoe. She had her read receipts on, and it clearly stated it was read shortly after he sent it … no response.

Cillian was getting a sinking feeling in his stomach, like Zoe was mad at him but not wanting to talk it out with him.

His anxiety peaked because this is exactly what happened with his ex wife.

He picked up the phone to call her again when Hannah came into the hotel room, unannounced.

“Hey Cill! got a minute?”

Cillian sighed and looked at the watch. “it’s nearly 1am Hannah, can it wait until tomorrow?”

“Just wanted to let you know filming got pushed back for tomorrow - well technically today. They need additional clearance for the horses, and they shouldn’t have it until 3 or 4pm. so you have a free day until then, but the cast wants to get together at about noon if that’s good?” Hannah replied sweetly.

“uh, yea sure. that’s fine. I wanna get some sleep though..” Cillian said, hoping she’d get the hint.

She did. “Say no more i’m out. sleep good! i’ll check in tomorrow at about 10 to make sure wardrobe and stuff is here for you. goodnight!” Hannah said, leaving.

She walked across the hall to her room and sat at the small table and pulled out her phone, dialing the number she had come to memorize over the last week.

“Hey, Tara? It’s Hannah over at Elite… those pictures you got of the cast the other night was PERFECT… do you think you can do it again?…. no no, no cast this time… this time, it’ll be just Cillian Murphy and Lizzie Hughes solo… yup. A day date. can it make the next day press?….. you’re the best. Thanks Tara,” Hannah said, hanging up the phone.

tags: @lau219 @cillianmurphyvevo @bleakmidwinter00 @amelyyyyyyy @teawonderfultea-blog1 @lavender-haze-01 @cillianinlove @supershadowymiraclestudent @shopgirl6us

#cillian fic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction

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