#making it all at home is so SO appealing and we're SO close I could cry

[thunderheadfred]

anxiously waiting for my state to legalize recreational cannabis (luckily we're on track for that to happen this year)

because even though I've never been much of a recreational user, I'm increasingly interested in growing my own high-CBD/CBN medicinal stuff at home to A) have a neat new project and B) help manage my sleep disorders, depression and ADHD (none of which qualify under our state's current restrictive medical policy )

[mononijikayu]

casual — geto suguru.

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, it was nice. Just, you know, casual." "Right, casual. I know, doll." Suguru echoed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he looked away. "No strings attached." "Exactly, yeah…." you said, forcing a smile. "We're both busy, and this doesn't have to mean anything more than... what it was." "Yeah." he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Just a one-time thing. No need to complicate things."

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Angst, Unrequited Love, Romance, Casual Friends with Benefit, Falling In Love, Lack of Communication, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Food, Disassociation, Smut, Depiction of Sexual Intercourse, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Food Withdrawal, Depiction of Disassociation;

WORDS: 6k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this took me awhile to write and i wish it didn't but i was busy trying to help my brother heal up from his own fever and then i also felt unwell after going out and visiting my cousins. crazy week so far, but i'm glad to be writing again!!! i'll be publishing pasilyo tomorrow!!! i hope you enjoy this and see you soon <3

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YOU HATE THIS APARTMENT. You know you picked it out. You went through the painstaking process of finding the best you could afford in all of Tokyo, sifting through countless listings, visiting countless open houses, and scrutinizing every detail with a critical eye. You even reached out to Nanami, seeking his advice on how he had found his own place, hoping his insight would guide you to something perfect. 

But now, standing in the middle of the empty apartment, it just feels overwhelming. The walls seem to close in around you, their pristine surfaces a harsh reminder of the solitude that awaits you. The space, while objectively beautiful and well-chosen, feels alien and unwelcoming. The soft, neutral colors and high-end finishes that once seemed so appealing now appear cold and impersonal, like a display in a showroom rather than a home.

Each corner, every room, is meticulously arranged, yet it all feels distant, disconnected. The furniture you carefully selected—elegant, stylish pieces that should have brought comfort—now feels like mere props in a stage set, lacking the warmth and familiarity of a true home. The shelves stand empty, the walls bare, and the lack of personal touches only amplifies the feeling of displacement.

You had envisioned this place as a haven, a refuge where you could build a new chapter of your life. Yet now, it feels like a stark reminder of everything you’ve lost, of the gaping void left by Suguru’s absence and the weight of the decisions that brought you here. The reality of living alone in such a polished, empty space contrasts sharply with the vibrant, chaotic life you once had, and the dissonance is almost too much to bear.

The once-anticipated comfort of the apartment now feels like a cage, trapping you in a space that reflects the isolation and emotional distance you’re struggling to overcome. You try to imagine filling the space with personal belongings, with memories that would make it truly yours, but the task feels daunting, almost insurmountable. Each step you take feels heavy, burdened by the weight of unfulfilled expectations and the deep, pervasive sadness that lingers in every corner of this new, unwelcoming environment.

Since Haibara died and Suguru defected, the world has felt irreparably altered. Their absence has left a void not just in your life but in the very fabric of the world you once knew. Their departures were seismic shifts, upheavals that have reshaped everything—your sense of security, your understanding of your place in the world, and the very essence of who you are. The bonds you once relied on have frayed, the connections you took for granted have been severed, and you are left grappling with a reality that seems both unfamiliar and unkind.

The change is not just in the external world but within yourself. The person you were before all these events feels like a distant memory, replaced by someone who struggles to find meaning and connection in the aftermath of loss and betrayal. How could you not change when everything around you has been transformed so drastically? The world has moved on, and you are left to navigate its new contours alone.

People are worried about you. The concern is palpable, especially from Gojo Satoru, who has always been like a brother to you, a constant in a world that has become increasingly unpredictable. His worry is perhaps the most poignant, reflecting the deep bond you share and the impact of your struggles on those who care about you. His concern is a reminder that while you feel isolated, there are still people who want to help, who see the pain you’re enduring, and who are willing to support you even as you grapple with the overwhelming weight of your new reality.

He’d been trying to reach you for weeks, his calls and messages a persistent thread in the silence of your days. Each notification from Gojo felt like a distant echo, a reminder of the world outside the narrow confines of your apartment. Yet, each time you saw his name on your screen, you hesitated, unable to muster the energy to respond. The weight of the past was a constant companion, keeping you awake through endless nights.

The dreams, when they came, were a cruel mockery of the life you once knew. Each night was filled with hauntingly vivid memories of better times with Suguru—laughter shared in quiet moments, his touch, and the warmth of his presence that now felt like an elusive phantom. The contrast between those dreams and the stark reality of your waking life was almost too much to bear.

Food, once a source of comfort and nourishment, had become a meaningless necessity. The meals you prepared, though carefully chosen, lay untouched on the counter. Their taste had lost all appeal, a reflection of the emptiness that now colored every aspect of your existence. Eating had become a mere act of survival, a stark reminder of the joy that had been stripped away.

The outside world, with its bustling streets and vibrant energy, felt distant, almost foreign. Tokyo’s vibrant chaos seemed to exist in a different realm, one that you could observe but not truly engage with. The city that once felt like a living, breathing entity now felt like a backdrop to your solitary struggle, its noise and activity a harsh contrast to the silence of your own life.

It was on one of these evenings, shrouded in solitude, that Gojo finally appeared at your door. His concern was palpable, a stark reminder of how far you’d retreated from those who cared about you. When you opened the door, he stood there, his face a mixture of frustration and worry.

“I’ve been calling you for weeks.” he said, his voice heavy with concern. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

You tried to muster a smile, but it fell short, your exhaustion too profound to conceal. “Oh, Gojo. I didn’t expect you.”

He stepped inside, his eyes quickly taking in the state of your apartment. The neatness of the space did nothing to hide the emptiness that pervaded it. “You don’t look well.” he said, his cerulean gaze moving to the cold meal on the counter. “I’ve been worried. What’s going on?”

You shrugged, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “It’s nothing. Just... struggling, I guess. Food doesn’t taste right anymore.”

Gojo moved closer to the counter, his eyes scanning the untouched food. “This isn’t just about food. You need to take care of yourself. When was the last time you had a decent meal? When was the last time you really slept?”

You looked away, your voice trembling as you tried to suppress the tears. “I don’t sleep much. When I do, it’s filled with dreams of Suguru. It’s like he’s everywhere, but also nowhere.”

His expression softened, a flicker of empathy in his eyes. “I get it. You’re missing him. But you can’t let it consume you. You need to find a way to move forward.”

You shook your head, the enormity of the situation pressing down on you. “It’s not that simple. The outside world feels so distant now, almost foreign. I’m just... lost.”

Gojo’s hand gently rested on your shoulder, his touch a grounding presence. “I know…But you can’t do this. He…he wouldn’t want this either.”

You knew that. But you felt a pang of guilt as you tried to reassure Satoru about your well-being. The effort to project a sense of normalcy, to offer him even a glimmer of hope that things might improve, weighed heavily on you. You knew that your struggles were far from over, and while you didn’t want to burden him with the full extent of your despair, the pretense felt like a delicate dance on the edge of honesty.

Because you don’t know how he does it. How he keeps himself from going insane. You wished you did. You wished you could be him. Because you’re exhausted. You wanted to move on. You wanted to be free. But still, you’re here in this cage of grief, living like this. Being in pain. Being empty. 

Your graduation, which should have been a moment of triumph, was marred by his absence. The empty chair next to you was a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Now, in the stillness of your apartment, the silence is deafening. The memories of laughter and shared dreams haunt you, and the loneliness seeps into your bones. 

You can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing, if he ever thinks of you too. Suguru’s defection was more than just a betrayal; it was a fracture, a deep wound that hasn’t healed. And as you sit in the vast emptiness of your apartment, you wonder if it ever will.

Back when you lived in Jujutsu High's dorms, life was different. Shoko would pop by unannounced, always ready to share the latest gossip, her presence a comforting constant. Those moments of laughter and whispered secrets felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, you had Digimon show nights with Satoru, the two of you arguing over favorite characters and plot twists, the banter and camaraderie a soothing balm to the stresses of your training.

And then there were those cold nights when you needed warmth, and Suguru Geto was there. His presence was a refuge, his arms a sanctuary. The conversations you'd have, the plans you'd make for the future, they were all wrapped in a cocoon of shared understanding and affection. His departure left a gaping hole, one that you haven't been able to fill.

Now, you are all alone. Anyone is, with your one’s grief. And now you truly are, separated from everyone else. The silence is oppressive, the loneliness a constant companion. The walls of your new apartment seem to close in on you, a stark reminder of what you once had and what you've lost. The memories of Shoko's gossip, Satoru's laughter, and Suguru's warmth are ghosts that haunt you, their absence a painful reminder of the life you once knew.

In the stillness of the night, you sometimes catch yourself hoping for a knock on the door, for Suguru to walk in with that familiar smile, as if everything could go back to the way it was. But reality is harsh, and you know that those days are gone. All you have now are the memories and the lingering hope that somehow, someday, things might change.

Geto Suguru left without saying anything, that day he went on his mission. He was supposed to be back in a day or two—at least that’s what he said during the phone call you shared when he was on that train. His voice, calm and reassuring, echoed in your mind long after the call ended. But that was the last time you heard his voice. The last time he called you. It was him getting off your seesaw game, finally stepping out of your world and leaving you with nothing but a broken heart.

And yet, he was never your boyfriend. You and him kept up the pretense, a delicate dance of closeness and distance, never truly naming what you had. The word "casual" was used way too much, a shield to protect fragile hearts from the vulnerability of the word "love." You remember the nights spent together, the conversations that felt like they meant something more, but neither of you dared to cross that line.

You often think back to that call, replaying every word, every nuance in his voice. It was supposed to be just another mission, nothing out of the ordinary. But something shifted, something changed, and Suguru never came back. His departure was like a cruel twist of fate, leaving you grappling with unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

In the aftermath, you were left to navigate the wreckage alone. The routines you shared, the subtle intimacy of your connection, all shattered. The memories of his touch, his laugh, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching—they haunt you, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You’ve tried to move on, to piece together a semblance of normalcy, but the void Suguru left is vast and unrelenting. The "casual" facade you both maintained now feels like a cruel joke, the missed opportunities for something deeper, more meaningful, a constant source of regret. You wonder if he ever felt the same, if he ever wanted to bridge the gap between you, but the answers are lost to the silence he left behind.

The seesaw game you played, the delicate balance of give and take, is now a lonely ride. You’re left suspended in midair, longing for the weight of his presence to bring you back down. But all you have are memories and the lingering ache of a love that was never fully realized, a connection that was always just out of reach.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the city outside the window. You lay there, the sheets tangled around your legs, your mind spinning with a mix of emotions. Suguru was next to you, propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes watching you intently.

"That was... something." you finally said, breaking the silence.

Suguru chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Yeah, it was," he agreed. "Unexpected, but not unwelcome."

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, it was nice. Just, you know, casual."

"Right, casual. I know, doll." Suguru echoed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he looked away. "No strings attached."

"Exactly, yeah…." you said, forcing a smile. "We're both busy, and this doesn't have to mean anything more than... what it was."

"Yeah." he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Just a one-time thing. No need to complicate things."

You felt a pang in your chest but ignored it, keeping your tone light. "Right, no need to complicate things. We have enough going on with our missions and training."

"Absolutely, you’re right." Suguru said, but his purple eyes told a different story. There was a flicker of something deeper, something more, but it was quickly masked by a casual smile. "We're just two friends who had a good time."

"Exactly." you repeated, wishing you could believe it. "......Just two friends."

Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I don't want this to change anything between us, doll." he said softly. "I value what we have."

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Me too. This doesn't have to change anything."

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Good. I'm glad we agree."

You both lay there for a moment longer, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Finally, Suguru sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "So, breakfast?"

You laughed, the tension breaking slightly. "Yeah, breakfast sounds good."

You felt like crying again, and you hated it. You hated yourself for it. Because there was nothing between you and Suguru. You were casual. It’s been a year, and there was nothing after that. He left you. He chose his path. He chose to burn the world to free himself from torment. But now, you are in torment. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, the weight of the silence pressing down on you. The memories of that night haunted you, the way he had looked at you, the way his touch had set your skin on fire. It was casual. Just a one-time thing. That’s what you told yourself, what you both agreed on. But the lie felt like a knife twisting in your gut now.

Suguru had left, and with him, he took the future you had secretly hoped for. You were in love with him. You didn’t want anything to be casual with him. You didn’t want it to be nothing. You wanted more, so much more, and now you knew you would never get anything.

The tears threatened to spill over, and you clenched your fists, trying to hold them back. You hated how weak you felt, how vulnerable. The world moved on, but you were stuck, trapped in a web of your own making. Suguru’s absence was a constant ache, a reminder of what you had lost, what you could never have.

He chose his path, and it led him away from you. It led him to destruction, to a darkness that swallowed him whole. And now, you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone in the vast emptiness of your new apartment. The echoes of your own thoughts were deafening, and the realization that you would never see him again, never hear his voice, never feel his touch—it was almost too much to bear.

You buried your face in your hands, the tears finally escaping, hot and bitter. The sobs wracked your body, each one a painful reminder of your unspoken feelings. You had wanted so much more, but you had been too afraid to ask, too afraid to risk the fragile balance you had. And now, it was too late.

Suguru was gone, and with him, any chance of something more. You were left with memories and regrets, with the knowledge that he had chosen his path, and you were not a part of it. The torment of unrequited love consumed you, a relentless ache that you couldn’t escape. You cried for what was, for what could have been, and for the future that would never be.

There was a strange stillness in the air, a quiet that felt almost suffocating. It felt different tonight. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall, your thoughts a tangled mess of memories and regrets. The knock on your door was so soft, you almost didn't hear it. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it, but then it came again, more insistent this time.

You wiped your eyes, forcing yourself to stand. Each step toward the door felt like walking through quicksand, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren't expecting anyone. As you reached for the doorknob, a part of you wondered if you were dreaming, if the grief had finally driven you mad.

You opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking in protest. And there he was. Geto Suguru stood in the doorway, looking every bit as if you remembered him, but different somehow. His eyes held a depth of sadness, a haunted look that mirrored your own. He seemed exhausted. As much as you, you think. But you say nothing for a few moments. You just stare at him, as though trying to be sure you weren’t hallucinating. 

"Suguru?" Your voice was barely a whisper, the word catching in your throat.

He gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotions. “Why—”

"I needed to see you, doll." he said softly. "I just had to see you tonight….will you let me in?”

You don’t know how he found out your address. Or how he was able to know which apartment block yours was. But you didn’t say anything. You didn’t want to force anything tonight. You nodded and stepped back, allowing him to enter. The silence between you was heavy, filled with all the words that had been left unsaid. You closed the door and turned to face him, your heart aching with a mix of hope and fear.

"Why now?" you asked, your eyes searching for him. “Why come back to me now? I….I’m not…”

He looks at you, almost longingly. “I don’t know.”

The weight of Suguru's confession hung in the air, but before you could process it, he spoke again, breaking the silence. "I know this is unexpected. I know I don't have the right to just show up here like this, but I need to talk to you.”

You stepped back, the doorway now feeling like a chasm between you. "Suguru, this is a bad idea. You shouldn’t be—”

He took a hesitant step inside, his presence filling the space. "I just want to talk. Please."

The room felt smaller, more suffocating, with him in it. The tension was palpable, a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on familiar objects—things that hadn't changed since he left. Things he wished wouldn't change. From the corner of his eye, he could see it. That uniform button he left behind. He purses his lips.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice low and careful.

You crossed your arms, trying to hold yourself together. "How do you think I am, Suguru? There's an order to kill you on the spot. If people find out you're here with me, the higher ups will get me.”

He flinched at your words, a shadow passing over his face. "I know the risks. I wouldn't have come if I didn't think it was important."

You shook your head, frustration and fear mingling in your chest. "Important? You think this is important? You left, Suguru. You choose your path, and it has nothing to do with me. Now you show up out of nowhere, and you want to talk?"

"I had to." he said, his voice almost pleading. "I've made so many mistakes, but leaving you was the worst one. I had to see you, to tell you how I feel."

Your heart ached at his words, but the reality of the situation loomed large. "And what do you expect me to do with that information? Do you want me to just forgive and forget? To pretend like everything's fine when it's not?"

He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I don't expect anything. I just needed you to know. I needed to try and make things right."

You looked away, the emotions swirling inside you too much to bear. "Suguru, you don't understand. It's not just about us. If they find out you're here, they'll kill you. And I'll be branded a traitor."

He nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of your words. "I know. And I'm sorry for putting you in this position. But I couldn't stay away. Not anymore."

The room was thick with tension, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you both. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between you, but the fear of the consequences held you back.

"I don't know what to do." you admitted, your voice breaking. "I don't know how…I don’t know how to handle this."

Suguru stepped closer, his hand hovering near yours. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me be here, even if it's just for a little while. Let me be with you."

You looked up at him, the pain and regret in his eyes mirroring your own. The risk was enormous, but the pull of your heart was stronger. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that things could be different, that maybe, somehow, you could find a way through this together.

But reality crashed back down, harsh and unyielding. "Suguru, this can't last. You know that."

He nodded, his expression filled with sorrow. "I know. But for now, can we just..."

You took a deep breath, the conflict tearing you apart. "Okay. For now."

Suguru’s eyes softened at your words, relief washing over his features. The air between you was thick with unspoken emotions, the tension palpable. You could feel your resolve wavering, the walls you had built around your heart crumbling with every passing second.

He took another step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reached out, gently brushing against yours. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze held yours.

“For now.” he repeated softly, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and longing.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The months of separation, the endless nights of aching for him, all came crashing down in that moment. You closed the gap between you, your lips finding his in a desperate, hungry kiss.

Suguru responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions you had both kept bottled up for so long. It was as if you were trying to make up for lost time, to pour all your love and longing into that single, searing connection.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to assure yourself that he was really there. Suguru’s hands roamed over your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. The kiss deepened, growing more fervent, more desperate. You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other. The intensity of your emotions left you both breathless, but neither of you pulled away.

“Suguru.” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt.

“I know.” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “I know.”

You kissed him again, this time even more passionately, your need for him overwhelming any lingering doubts. His hands slid under your shirt, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. You gasped against his lips, your body responding to him in ways you had tried to forget.

The world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was Suguru. Being here with you. The kiss grew more intense, a fierce clash of lips and tongues, as if you were both trying to make up for the lost time, for all the moments you had been apart.

Suguru’s hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and guiding you toward the bed. You didn’t resist, your body craving his touch, his closeness. As he laid you down gently, his lips never leaving yours, you felt a sense of rightness, a feeling that this was where you were meant to be.

His body pressed against yours, the heat between you growing more intense. Every touch, every kiss, was a reminder of what you had lost and found again. Your hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

“Suguru.” you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of need and desperation.

He responded with a soft groan, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I’ve missed you so much, doll.” he murmured against your skin. “Too much…”

You arched into his touch, your body responding to him in ways you had almost forgotten. The intensity of your desire for him was overwhelming, a force you couldn’t control. You pulled him back up, capturing his lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, the intensity grew, the passion between you igniting like a wildfire. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more.

The walls themselves felt like they were closing in, drawn tighter by the charged energy of the moment. The temperature seemed to rise with every movement, the warmth of your bodies pressed together creating a cocoon of intimacy and passion. 

You moaned against the kiss, feeling his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He was always so good at making you defenseless when it came to him. When it came to Suguru, you surrendered without a fight.

His lips trailed down your jawline, planting heated kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into him, craving more. His other hand roamed over your back, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were memorizing every inch of you.

"You have no idea how much I've missed this." he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. “How much I missed you.”

You could barely form words, your mind clouded with desire. "S–suguru…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own gaze dark with intensity. "Say it, doll." he urged, his voice a low, husky command. “Use your words.”

"Suguru, please." you repeated, feeling the heat of his name on your lips, the weight of it in the air between you. “I need you.”

A satisfied smile curved his lips before he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fierce, possessive hunger. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to lose yourself in him.

His hand slid down from your neck to the small of your back, pulling you against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a mix of intense pleasure and deep, unfulfilled longing. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears, drowning out any remaining doubts.

As the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate, you felt yourself melting into him, your defenses crumbling with every touch, every caress. Suguru had always had this effect on you, this ability to make you forget everything else, to make you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

"I missed you." you whispered against his lips, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.

He groaned in response, his hand sliding up under your shirt, his touch searing against your skin. "I missed you too, doll." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "More than you know."

As he continued to kiss you, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart ache, you realized that no matter what happened next, no matter the consequences, this moment was worth it. Being with Suguru, feeling his love, his desire, his need—it was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had been missing.

And in that instant, you knew you would face any danger, any threat, just to keep him here with you, to hold onto this feeling for as long as you could. Because when it came to Suguru, you were willing to surrender without a fight.

The heat between you was almost unbearable, the intensity of your desire for Suguru consuming you. His hands continued their exploration, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his need, his desperation, mirrored in your own.

"Suguru…" you whispered again, your voice a mix of longing and urgency.

He responded with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting, exploring. Your hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against you. The sensation of his body pressed against yours was intoxicating, driving you to the brink of madness.

His hand slid under your shirt, his fingers tracing a path up your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he reached the clasp of your bra, deftly undoing it. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin was electric, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

"You feel so good, doll." he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding instinctively. You tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. He helped you, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and abdomen.

You ran your hands over his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. He groaned softly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer. The feel of his arousal against your thigh sent a surge of desire through you, your need for him growing more intense with every passing second.

He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of you. "You're beautiful." he said, his voice filled with admiration.

You blushed under his gaze, feeling a mix of shyness and exhilaration. "Suguru." you breathed, reaching for him.

He kissed you again, hungrier than before. You could feel his hands sliding down to your jeans, unbuttoning them with practiced ease. You helped him, pushing the fabric down your hips, kicking them off along with your underwear. The cool air against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat between you, heightening your senses.

Suguru's eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of reverence and hunger. He reached for you, his hands gentle yet firm as he guided you back onto the bed. You lay there, your heart pounding, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, the heat of his skin radiating against you. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, his hands exploring every inch of you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

"I need you." he whispered against your skin, his voice filled with urgency.

"Then take me." you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered you. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping, your body adjusting to the fullness of him.

"So deep, Su…." you moaned, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging into his skin.

He moved slowly at first, his strokes deep and measured, his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze, the connection between you, was almost too much to bear. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

He responded with a groan, his pace quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moved together in perfect rhythm, your bodies melding into one, the world outside fading away.

Every touch, every kiss, every movement—each a story of love and desire you felt for each other. The intensity built with each passing second, your moans mingling with his, the sound of your bodies coming together filling the room.

"S–suguru!" you gasped, feeling the tension building, the climax approaching. “I….I’m close!”

He kissed you deeply, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. "I love you, doll." he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. “More than you know.”

The words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure, your vision blurring as the orgasm washed over you. Suguru followed moments later, releasing a powerful, shuddering wave that left him breathless, his body collapsing against yours.

You lay there together, your bodies intertwined, the aftermath of your lovemaking leaving you both spent and sated. For a moment, the world was perfect, the dangers and fears forgotten. In that moment, all that mattered was the love you shared, the connection that bound you together.

Suguru propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze tender as he looked down at you. You turned to face him, your eyes heavy with a mixture of satisfaction and lingering emotions. He stroked your hair gently, his touch soothing. 

"I know I’ve been gone for a long time.”

“You have.”

“I’m sorry for leaving you without any explanation." He whispered to you. “For making you suffer.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you listened to his words. "It’s been really hard. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back. And when you did… it was like opening old wounds all over again."

Suguru’s fingers traced patterns on your back, his touch calming. "I understand. I’ve had time to think about everything, and I realize now how much I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. But I needed to see you, to try to make things right, even if I’m not sure how."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope. "What do you want from me, Suguru? What do we do now?"

He took a deep breath, his expression serious. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were before. I just want to be honest with you.” 

The sincerity in his voice touched something deep inside you. You took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You’re someone dear to me, Suguru. You always will be.”

You could see how painfully beautiful his smile was. And just as much, how easily he started to grieve this moment. “I know.”

You snuggled closer to him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. As the weight of the conversation and the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster began to take their toll, you felt yourself growing drowsy.

Suguru’s arms tightened around you, his presence a soothing balm to your restless heart. "You should get some rest," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I’ll be here until you fall asleep."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The feeling of his body pressed against yours, the gentle caress of his hand on your back, was all you needed to drift off.

When you awoke, it was to the soft, hesitant brush of Suguru’s lips against yours. You stirred, your eyes blinking open to find him gazing at you with a mixture of sadness and affection.

“I have to go, doll,” Suguru said quietly, his voice filled with regret. “But I’ll be thinking of you. Always. Wherever I go, wherever I am. I’ll only love you. Only you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, each syllable resonating deep within you. You wanted to respond, to find the right words to express how much his declaration meant to you, but the lump in your throat made it difficult to speak.

Instead, you simply reached out, your hand finding his, holding it tightly as if trying to anchor him to this moment. His fingers intertwined with yours, and for a brief second, you found solace in the connection, the warmth of his touch providing a bittersweet comfort.

Suguru leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the memory of your skin on his own. His eyes met yours one last time, filled with an intensity that spoke of a deep and unspoken promise.

“Take care of yourself, doll.” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Live for me.”

You nodded, your eyes misting as you tried to hold back the tears. “I will. You too, Suguru. Be safe.

He kissed you one last time, a tender, lingering kiss that seemed to hold all the words left unspoken. His lips brushed against yours with a softness that belied the intensity of the emotions swirling between you. It was a kiss that conveyed both farewell and the depth of his feelings, a final, aching promise wrapped in the warmth of his touch.

As he pulled away, his eyes searched for yours, filled with a profound sadness that matched the heaviness in your heart. There was a moment where time seemed to stand still, where every second stretched into eternity. The look he gave you was a mixture of regret and deep affection, as if he were trying to imprint this final moment into his memory, to hold onto it even as he had to let go.

With a final, loving glance, he slowly rose from the bed, the movement reluctant and heavy. The contrast between the intimacy you had shared moments before and the distance growing between you now felt like a cruel irony. He began to dress, his actions slow and methodical, each movement a reminder of the separation that loomed ahead.

You watched him, feeling a hollow ache settle in your chest. The sight of him buttoning his shirt, pulling on his jacket, seemed to magnify the reality of his departure. Each piece of clothing he put on felt like a barrier, a wall being erected between you. The warmth of his touch was replaced by the cold distance of impending goodbye.

When he finally finished dressing, he paused by the door, turning back to you with one last, lingering look. His eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination, the kind of gaze that promised he would carry you with him, even as he walked away. The sight of him standing there, so close yet so far, was almost too much to bear.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and then slowly walked toward the door. Each step he took felt like a betrayal to the moment you had shared, each creak of the floorboards a painful reminder of the separation. As he reached the door, he turned to look at you one last time, his expression a final plea for you to understand.

“Goodbye, doll.” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly with the weight of his emotions.

With those final words, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving you alone in the room that now felt unbearably empty. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and the sound echoed in the silence that followed.

You sat there, feeling the overwhelming sense of loss, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. The room, once filled with the warmth of his presence, now felt cold and desolate. You reached out to the space he had occupied, your hand trembling as if trying to grasp at the remnants of his touch.

The tears finally came, streaming down your face in silent, aching sobs. The finality of his departure settled in, leaving you with the bittersweet memory of his touch, his kisses, and the love you had shared. As you buried your face in your hands, the pain of his absence was a stark reminder of the reality you had to face, the love that remained but was now out of reach.

You lay back down on the bed, the lingering warmth of his presence a bittersweet comfort. Yearning for what remained of him. The reality of his departure settled in, slowly. Tears kept falling and you couldn’t stop them. When you closed your eyes, all you could see was him. 

You cried until you were too tired to do it. And as you drifted back to sleep, you held onto the memory of his touch, his kisses, and the promise that, despite everything, he would always be a part of your heart. He would always be your ghost. He would always haunt you, even when you’re old and gray — he would always be more than a casual memory. He’d always be the one that got away. And you knew….you were his too.

[totaly-obsessed]

Big Shoes to fill

Leah Williamson x reader request

pt. 1 here

-> Leah invites her struggling sister to live with her in London, where they support each other through healing and new friendships.

-> A very late pt.2. Please let me know what you think of it! If ya'll are interested I could make a pt.3 of reader meeting the team.

-> Just tagging you guys because you asked for a pt.2 in the comments of pt.1: @the-nameless-queen, @the-hottest-avenger-loves-soccer, @abcdefghijklmmopkrstuvwxyz

-> also a very big thank you to @alotofpockets and @greynatomy who read over it for me and helped with ideas - much love!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Leah sat there, stunned by the weight of her sister's words. She had always known that things weren't easy for you, but she never imagined the extent of the struggles you faced. The guilt of not being there for her little sister when she needed her the most washed over the footballer like a tidal wave.

"I'm so sorry, Bug," Leah whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea you were going through all of this alone."

You shrugged, trying to downplay the situation, ignoring the shame that showed in the redness of your face. "It's okay, Lee. I didn't want to burden you with my problems."

Leah shook her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "No, it's not okay. I should have been there for you. I should have noticed. I'm supposed to be your big sister, for God's sake."

You reached out and took Leah's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're here now, that's what matters."

Leah sniffled, trying to compose herself. "I promise, things are going to change. I'll talk to Mom and Dad, and we'll figure this out together."

You managed a small smile, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in a long while. "Thanks, Lee. "I appreciate it."

Leah pulled you into a tight hug, holding onto you as if she never wanted to let go. "I love you, Bug. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldn't have to face them alone. With Leah by your side, you felt stronger than ever before. And together, you were ready to take on whatever life threw your way.

When she was back in London and your parents were home again,  Leah couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility that weighed heavily on her shoulders. She knew she couldn't let her sister continue to struggle alone, not when she finally understood the depth of your pain. After numerous conversations with her parents, Leah made a decision.

"Bug, I want you to come live with me in London," Leah said one evening when you were staying with her after watching an Arsenal game, her voice filled with determination.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting such a sudden idea. "But what about Mom and Dad? Won't they be worried?"

Leah shook her head. "They understand, they want what's best for you, and right now, that means being with someone who can support you fully."

A mixture of emotions washed over you, uncertainty mingled with relief. The thought of leaving your childhood home was daunting, but the prospect of starting fresh in a new environment with your sister by your side was undeniably appealing.

"I don't know, Leah. What about your life here? Your career?" you asked, concerned about uprooting your sister's life for your sake.

Leah smiled reassuringly. "My career doesn’t need to stop. You're my family, and family comes first. Plus, I could use some company in this big old house of mine."

Unbeknownst to you, she actually wasn’t all that alone in her house, a certain brunette spent most of her time there as well.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the depth of Leah's love and sacrifice for you. "Thank you, Leah. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Leah pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close. "You'll never have to find out, Bug. We're in this together."

And so, with the support of your parents and the unwavering love of your sister, you packed your bags and prepared to embark on a new chapter in London. As you looked out the window of the car, watching the familiar scenery of your hometown fade into the distance, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead with your sister by your side.

Things were finally looking up.

—

Leah steered her car through the familiar streets of London, eventually turning onto a quieter road lined with rows of cozy houses. The neighborhood exuded a sense of tranquility, a stark contrast to the bustling city center. As Leah parked the car in the driveway of her quaint home, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.

Stepping out of the car, you stretched your limbs and took in the familiar surroundings. Leah's house, though not extravagant, emanated a sense of warmth and comfort that immediately put you at ease. The exterior was adorned with climbing ivy and cheerful flower beds, adding a touch of charm to the neighborhood.

With your bags in hand, you followed Leah up the front steps and through the front door. The air inside was filled with the comforting scent of your sister and well-loved furniture that you remember from her old room. The living room greeted you with plush couches arranged around a cozy fireplace, inviting you to sink into their embrace.

It’s surprisingly tidy here, but you could make out two empty cups on the coffee table, an arsenal sweatshirt with a 13 on it, and so many sneakers by the door, that they couldn’t just be Leah’s.

"Here we are," Leah said, turning to you with a smile. "Home sweet home."

You returned her smile, feeling a sense of gratitude for the familiar surroundings. "It's perfect, Leah. Thank you for inviting me."

Leah's smile widened as she led you through the house, showing you to your temporary room. The space was simple but inviting, with a comfortable bed and a large window overlooking the lush backyard. Of course, a little goal was set up. Was this even Leah’s home if there was no goal?

—

The first day with Leah was a whirlwind of emotions and new experiences. As you woke up in her cozy home, sunlight filtering through the curtains, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the warmth and comfort of your surroundings. This felt more like home than the place you had grown up in.

Downstairs, Leah greeted you with a warm smile and a hearty breakfast (the only thing she was confidently able to make), eager to show you around her neighborhood and introduce you to her favorite spots. Together, you explored the quaint streets, stopping to chat with neighbors and browse through local shops before getting a snack in a quaint little café.

With a “Lia always takes the croissant, they’re good.”, you had been convinced easily enough. And the Swiss was correct, the croissants were indeed very good.

Throughout the day, Leah made sure you felt right at home, regaling you with stories from her own adventures in the city and sharing her favorite memories of growing up together. With each passing hour, you felt more and more at ease in your sister’s company, grateful for her unwavering support and understanding.

As the day drew to a close, you found yourself curled up on the couch with Leah, sipping hot tea and sharing laughs over stories of her teammates. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and love of your sister, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

But it would not be life if things didn't get worse again.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself slipping deeper into the shadows of your own mind. Despite Leah's best efforts to create a loving and supportive environment, the wounds from your past continued to fester, leaving you feeling lost and alone.

Trauma and abandonment issues weighed heavily on your soul, casting a dark shadow over even the brightest moments you shared with your sister. The memories of being ostracized and bullied at school haunted you, triggering waves of anxiety and self-doubt that seemed impossible to overcome.

Leah watched with a heavy heart as you retreated further into yourself, the light in your eyes dimming with each passing day. She tried to offer words of comfort and encouragement, but they seemed to fall on deaf ears, lost in the endless void of your pain.

It hurts to see you suffer, not knowing how to help. So she chose to confront you after talking to Lia in depth about it, not knowing what to do. She ended up seeking a conversation on how to change things, on how to help you. Together, you found a therapist who specializes in childhood trauma and abandonment issues, hoping that they could provide you with the support and guidance you so desperately needed.

As you began your journey towards healing, your sister remained by your side every step of the way, offering a steady hand to hold onto in the darkest of times. Slowly but surely, you started to unravel the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared your heart, finding solace in the love and support of your family.

—

When the new school year started you were deemed well enough to start at the new school. Leah had asked if you wanted to do online school instead, but both your therapist and you didn’t think that to be a good idea. 

The transition to a new school was daunting and filled with uncertainty and anxiety. You couldn't shake the memories of past experiences, the taunts and jeers of classmates echoing in your mind like a cruel refrain. But as you stepped into the halls of your new school, you were met with a surprising kindness that took you off guard.

The kids here were different. They didn't make fun of you or hurl insults your way. Instead, they greeted you with smiles and open arms, eager to welcome you into their midst. It was a stark contrast to the hostile environment you had grown accustomed to, and it filled you with a sense of relief and gratitude.

As time went by, you found yourself slowly but surely coming out of your shell, emboldened by the kindness and acceptance of your peers. You made new friends, shared laughs, and discovered a sense of belonging that you had never known before.

Leah watched with pride as you flourished in your new environment, her heart swelling with joy at the sight of your radiant smile. She knew that the road ahead would still be challenging, filled with ups and downs, but she also knew that you were strong enough to face whatever came your way.

When one day you came home telling her all about two new girls you met, she was so ecstatic that she couldn’t help but cry about it to the Swiss brunette who had a permanent spot at your dinner table. The blonde had refrained from taking you to training as of now, leaving you space to breathe and be alone. With that you couldn’t just call Kyra and Alessia your friends and call it a day, you needed your own.

—

After spending weeks bonding with Charlie and Mia, you couldn't wait to introduce them to your sister Leah. One afternoon, you invited them over to Leah's house for a casual hangout, eager to share your newfound friendships with her.

As Charlie and Mia arrived at Leah's doorstep, you greeted them with a smile and led them inside. Leah welcomed them warmly, offering snacks (that you had made) and drinks as the four of you settled into the cozy living room. They wanted to get to know the sister you couldn’t shut up about.

You watched nervously as Charlie and Mia chatted with Leah, hoping that they would hit it off. To your relief, the conversation flowed easily, with laughter filling the room as they exchanged stories and shared jokes.

"So, how did you two meet?" your sister asked, her eyes flickering between them.

Charlie, a vibrant and outgoing girl, grinned and began the story. "Well, Mia and I actually met in our science class. We were paired up for a project, and the rest is history."

Mia nodded, chiming in, "Yeah, Charlie swooped in to save the day when I accidentally mixed up my chemicals. She's been my lab partner and best friend ever since."

Leah chuckled, nodding in understanding. "It sounds like you two make a great team."

You couldn't help but jump in, eager to share your own thoughts. "They really do. Charlie and Mia have been amazing friends to me since I started at this new school."

Leah's eyes softened as she turned her attention to you. "That's wonderful to hear, Bug. I'm so glad you've found some great friends."

You nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for your sister's support, and thanks to your therapy, you were not afraid to tell them. "Yeah, they've been really supportive. And it's nice to have them here with you."

Leah smiled, her gaze shifting between the three of you. "Well, you're all welcome here anytime. It's nice to see you so happy, Bug."

—

A couple of days later Leah came home from training to you making dinner in the kitchen. Instead of sitting down or waiting she stood in the doorway joking about your apron. Conversation in the middle of doing something was always the best.

As the conversation flowed effortlessly among you, Leah's eyes sparkled with an idea. "You know, Bug, my teammates have been asking about you. They've heard so much about my little sister and they're dying to meet you."

Your heart skipped a beat at Leah's suggestion. Meeting Leah's teammates felt like a significant step, a symbol of how far you'd come since arriving in London. The thought both excited and intimidated you.

Leah must have noticed the mix of emotions flickering across your face because she quickly added, "But only if you're comfortable with it. I don't want to pressure you into anything."

She knew that you had talked to most of them before. But it had always been brief and at the side of the pitch, signing a shirt for you and taking a picture. Aside from Lia, who had been at the house just the evening prior.

You took a moment to consider Leah's offer, the warmth of her support comforting you. With a newfound sense of confidence, you nodded eagerly. "I'd love to meet them, Leah. It sounds like fun."

Leah's smile widened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. "Great! I'll arrange a get-together with the team. I know they'll love you just as much as I do."

Meeting her teammates felt like the next natural step in your journey of growth and self-discovery, and you were ready to embrace it with open arms.

[transmascutena]

i was thinking all day yesterday about utena and how lonely she is and how she's never felt wanted anywhere and how all she's ever really wanted was a place to belong. her parents are dead, obviously, leaving her lost with nowhere to go but the coffin. if she has any extended family at all, it seems none of them wanted to bother taking her in, choosing instead to send her off to boarding schools and make her someone else's problem (not strictly canon, as we don't know what utena's life before ohtori is like, but i think a complete lack of any parental figure is the only way for the themes and her character arc to make sense). at ohtori she feels out of place too (you know how it is with being a gender nonconforming lesbian teenager). there are people who admire and are infatuated with her, but none of them know her. she doesn't have any close friends beside wakaba and later anthy, and as much as she loves them, for a long time neither of them are people she feels like she can really open up to.

akio is the one person to offer her this thing she's been longing for for most of her life, a place in his home and in his family. a place to belong. and of course this makes her happy. it's what she's always wanted. a family, and i think especially their family. but, aside from the obvious of it all being a way to earn her trust and make her feel indebted to him so he can groom and abuse her, does she ever truly feel like she belongs there? i think she wants to. i think she often convinces herself she does. but i think it is also absolutely akio's intention to still make her feel like an outsider. to make her feel deeply insecure in her position there, while still feeling like she owes him for it. utena knows that he could throw her out if he wanted to, that everything he gave her is something he could take away again. she doesn't want to believe he would do that to her of course, because she trusts him, but she knows, the way all children know, implicitly, that the adult is the one with the power, even if they haven't seen it abused yet. so she tries to make herself appealing to him. tries to make herself fit into what she thinks he wants her to be. tries to do what she thinks she needs to to be deserving of his love. because it isn't unconditional, the way we're always told family is supposed to be.

of course, the truth is, even though it isn't simple or easy, utena did have somewhere she felt she belonged all along: with anthy

[phoward89]

Summary: Coriolanus is bed ridden and healing from his dance with poison, but that doesn't stop him from his political scheming. When he finds out that his political rival lusts after you, he warns you and makes you promise to help poison the man once his District 12 contact comes through and sends him your apothecary book.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus,mentions of blood, cussing, slapping, talks of sex work and mistresses, um that's pretty much it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 7:

You had placed Coryo on bed rest a couple of days ago so he'll be able to attend his late wife's funeral. He'll be weak, but at least he'd be able to go to the funeral looking a bit better than he was the night he came home, barely able to stand on his own two feet from the poison he drank.

A funeral that Ma and Strabo Plinth were arranging. They, surprisingly, live in the apartment underneath the penthouse on the 11th floor. You met them when they came over, wanting to check on Coryo; let him know that they'd take care of all of Livia's funeral arrangements.

Ma Plinth was a warm, frumpy woman that just had a motherly aura to her. She talked your ear off and kept stuffing her homemade cookies (she called the little brown scallop-edged things biscochitos) into your hand as you sat with her in the main room while her husband talked to Coryo in the master bedroom.

Apparently, they tried the townhouse he lived in with Livia first, but when they were only met with an Avox, they decided to try the Corso penthouse.

Ma Plinth was so sweet and friendly. She even offered to help you transition into life in the Capitol as a person coming from the districts.

“It can be so difficult adjusting to life here when all you know is the simple life of your district; your traditions. I'm only one floor away if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Did she know something you didn't? Because your stay in the Capitol with Coryo's only temporary, until Victor's Village in 12 is done being built.

Meanwhile, as Ma Plinth showered you with motherly affection, her husband had his own talk with Coryo. The talk about the funeral was brief, but that wasn't the only thing they were talking about.

No.

They were also talking about you.

“I take it that girl's the victor you had me sponsor during the games.” Strabo Plinth told Coriolanus, a knowing look on his old, wrinkle-weary tan face.

“You're correct, Sir.” The platinum blonde nodded. Adjusting himself against his pillows and headboard, he added in, “She's the one I had you sponsor, ensuring her Victory by being sent that pocket knife.”

“Is she staying with you now?”

“Yes, we're living together.” Coriolanus nodded.

“She won't be as valuable for you to sell if she's used, Coriolanus.” Strabo remarked in a business-like tone.

“I'm not selling her, Sir. I'm keeping her for myself.”

“So, she's your new mistress.” Strabo surmised. He could see the appeal the girl had to his adopted heir. She was from District 12 and the Head Gamemaker had spent some time there in his youth…

“No, she’ll never be my mistress.” Coriolanus shook his head, causing Strabo to frown. “I'm going to marry her; make her my First Lady.” The ailing platinum blonde told the older man, only to bluntly ask, “Have you heard anything about the president's condition? His age and health’s been declining; the council must be close to declaring him incompetent.”

“I received a call this morning from my contacts, the president’s cabinet along with the ministry plans on declaring him incompetent and naming the Senate temporary rulers for Panem until a campaign season and election is held.”

“Sir, how soon will I be able to declare my intentions to run as the youngest President of Panem?”

“Within the next 3 days, but I do advise you to rethink your rash decision to marry that victor. She has nothing to offer you and your presidential campaign.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don't tell you what to do about your private affairs so I'd appreciate it if you showed me that same respect.” Coriolanus seethed, his voice ice cold and clipped, as he narrowed his eyes at Strabo Plinth.

The Plinths haven't been by since the day after Coryo poisoned himself while killing his wife, but they did slide a note under the door about the date and time of the funeral.

A note you just picked up after hearing the knock on the door while in the kitchen, making Coryo a glass of warm salt water to gargle with in order to help his mouth sore heal faster.

The sore was large, red, bloody, and inflamed. But, you knew that by gargling with warm salt water the sore wouldn't get infected; ooze puss, but would begin the healing process.

So, with a glass of salt water in one hand and a note in the other, you made your way to the master bedroom you share with Coryo. Your unofficial boyfriend.

“The Plinths just left a note under the front door.” You told him, announcing your presence; causing him to close his book and put it aside.

“Is that what's in your hand, darling?” Coryo asked, baby blues flittering towards the paper you're holding, as you made your way over to him.

‘Yea, it's the details for Livia's funeral. I thought you'd need to see it.” You explained, placing both the note and the glass of saltwater on the nightstand.

Before you could back away, the bedridden platinum blonde grabbed your wrist and sighed, “I know you're still upset with me for drinking that arsenic based poison, but please, just stay with me for a while. Keep me company, yea?”

“I've been keeping you company since you brought me here, Coryo. I'm just trying to let you get some rest so you can build up your strength.”

“I'm healing up just fine, Y/N; you're taking such good care of me, but I would like to spend more time with you then during meals and check-ins on my condition.”

“Coryo, you need your rest.” You told him, only to remind the light curly haired blonde what happened the last time you spent time with him. “Plus last time I was in bed with you, you tried to get me to mess around with you.” Before the head gamemaker could utter a word, you finished your thoughts with, “You're too weak for that right now. You’re on a broth diet and have a painful, bloody sore taking up your entire right cheek. Sexy times should be the least of your worries right now, horny goat.”

“Did you really just call me a horny goat, my darling rose?” Coriolanus incredulously asked, a brow raised in amusement. “I can't say I've ever been called that before.”

“Read your note and gargle with your salt water. I have to make your chicken broth.”

“Perhaps you could shred some of the poultry into my bowl when it's done?”

“No, Coriolanus. Your stomach's not ready for solids yet.”

“You're lucky I'm sick and in bed, otherwise I'd slap you for your bratty behavior.” Coriolanus darkly hissed, his icy eyes narrowed with promising madness.

You didn't say a word, just yanked your wrist out of his hold and left the bedroom.

You had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn when it came to loving (which you certainly weren't doing yet) and living with Coriolanus Snow.

The head gamemaker's bored to death in his sick bed. Coriolanus would much rather be in bed with you, stuffing you full of his cock until you cry from cumming multiple times. But, since you're so strict about his recovery, he’s stuck staring at the 4 walls of his bedroom, looking out the window, reading books, and mentally scheming up plans of presidential grandeur.

Tigris came over to check on him; to drop off your closing interview dress as well. Since you’re busy making broth, you told the stylist to just drop the dress bag in the master bedroom and to let Coriolanus know that you'd be bringing him something to eat soon.

Truth was you’re also busy avoiding having to deal with Coryo. Man’s worse than a baby while sick in bed.

And for some reason he's always-

ALWAYS

-horny.

Doesn't matter that he's still weak from poisoning himself. He wants you and isn't shy about letting you know it.

You know once he's healed you're in for it. The thought excites you, even tho you'd never admit it out loud. Hell, you won't even silently admit it to yourself. But maybe that's because Ashlie, your brother's girlfriend, told you that such things shouldn't be addressed or dwelled upon.

Oh boy, were you in for a rude awakening whenever Coryo gets better and has his way with you.

But you won't mind; in fact you'll welcome it.

You were finishing up brewing the broth for your man while his cousin, the famed stylist, visited with him in your shared bedroom.

“You can't have her sit with you at Livia's funeral, Coriolanus.” Tigris told her cousin, staring at him as he sipped some green tea (that you’re making him drink instead of his preferred Earl Grey due to the healing properties it had) while in bed, propped up against some pillows, against the headboard. Waiting for you to bring him some broth and a new book to read.

“Why not? She's mine.” Coryo asked, blood from his large and painful mouth sore had seeped into his tea. Staining the rim of the teacup crimson; making his cousin feel uneasy as she stuffed your interview dress, which Coriolanus deemed your funeral dress, back into the garment bag after showing it off.

“Your wife just died, Coriolanus. You can't be presenting her on your arm for your elite to bid on her while at a funeral.” Tigris told the atinum blonde, hoping that her words would knock some sense into him.

He just couldn't parade you around a funeral, tempting the rich for the biddings. It wasn't right. In fact it was disgusting. At least he could wait until the gala after the crowning ceremony to debut you for bidding.

Even the thought of him doing that disgusted the fashion designer.

“That is not what I'll be doing, Tigris!” Coriolanus angrily shouted, feeling his mouth sore burn and seep blood. Slamming his teacup on his bedside table, causing some of the rich, green liquid to slosh over the crimson stained rim, he barked, “I've told you, I'm making Y/N my wife. She will never ever be touched by anyone, but me.”

“Yes, well, at least with you laid up in bed from food poisoning she gets a break from you touching her.” Tigris said, feeling relief for your plight. She felt sorry for you on so many levels. She wished she could do more to help you, but all she could do was design your commissioned dresses and offer you a gentle soul for friendship during your tough time.

Coriolanus narrowed his baby blues at his cousin, the kind hearted woman who raised him to be good even though he decided to become evil. “What the hell is your problem, cousin? I've done so much for you and you treat me like shit.”

The stylist debated whether or not she should tell Coriolanus what her problem with him was. On one hand, she didn't want to upset him, but on the other hand she knew that she couldn't keep her feelings to herself for much longer. Deciding to just tell him the truth, Tigris tilted her black and blonde stripe-haired head at her cousin, only to say, “Your time as a peacekeeper in 12 changed you, Coriolanus. Something inside of you snapped and you became cold, cruel, and evil just like your father.”

Coriolanus’ eyes burned with a cold-blooded rage at Tigris’ words. He was insulted that she called his father, the great General Crassus Snow evil, let alone himself that.

Tigris’ shoulders shook with sorrowful anger while revealing her true feelings of, “I do appreciate you for giving me the opportunity to become a well known designer, but I despise you for making me a stylist for the games. For pimping out those Victor's all so you can gain money that you don't even need, Coriolanus.”

“Yes, well, you always were too sweet and tender-hearted for your own good.” Coriolanus scoffed, rolling his eyes in a dramatic show that he felt his cousin was too soft. Too weak. Too naive. Too ethical and moral for the dark world they lived in. “Now, if you're done trying to guilt trip me- which won't work because I'm completely fine with being the villain in your story- could you go back to your boutique and design Y/N a proper interview dress.”

“What's wrong with the one I just hung up for her?”

“Tigris, cousin, I already told you that dress is perfect for her to wear to Livia's funeral since it's black with pearl accents and a matching, large floppy hat.”

“You're going to make a fool out of yourself with her on your arm at your wife’s funeral, Coriolanus.” Tigris huffed warningly as the sound of the phone ringing echoed down the hall and into the master bedroom.

“No, I won't.” Coriolanus snapped. “Oh, Tigris, I'd like for my darling rose to have white rose accents on her interview dress.” Coriolanus said, reaching for his discarded teacup. “Do you think you can handle that, cousin?”

Before Tigris could say yes, you came rushing down the hall while calling out, “Coryo! Somebody from the presidential cabinet’s on the phone for you!”

“Well, as lovely as our little chat’s been cousin, we both have duties to attend to.” Coriolanus told Tigris, his tone very curt and formal, as he placed his teacup on the table and stood up.

Tigris nodded solemnly, only to turn around and go over to the door. Right as you entered the room, she exited. “Please, let me know if he hurts you. If you need any help.” She whispered softly in your ear, brushing her shoulder against yours in a show of running into you (to cover up her whispers from her eagle eyed cousin).

You didn't say a word, just gave her a polite smile before making your way over to Coryo, who was rummaging thru his dresser drawer.

“What're you looking for?” You curiously asked, stopping by the blonde man's side.

“My damn pajamas that I never wear.” He told you. Gesturing to the closet with a flick of his wrist, he ordered, “My blue dressing gown’s in there, please get it for me.”

“You have a housecoat?” You asked, holding back a giggle.

“It’s not a housecoat, it's a dressing gown, Y/N.” Coriolanus harshly snapped as he found the pair of navy blue silk pajamas he was looking for. Quickly, he tossed on the shirt, not even bothering to unbutton it, while berating you with, “You're not in the districts anymore, so please, refrain from talking like it.”

“You might take the girl out of the districts, but you can't take the districts out of the girl.” You scoffed, grabbing his precious baby blue dressing gown aka housecoat as he quickly pulled on his matching navy blue pajama pants.

Coryo might be recovering from his stint with the poison, but his backhand was still strong. You staggered, and would've fallen on your ass if it wasn't for him grabbing your arm to keep you upright. Snatching the dressing gown from you, he snapped out the order of, “Don't you ever sass back again to me, Y/N.” Letting his grip on you go, he hastily put on his dressing gown while remarking, “You know I don't tolerate brats; I'll beat you into submission if I have to, my darling rose.”

You just let out a huff and shook your head incredulously. If he thought that he was going to just smack you around every time he thought you were bratty then he had another thing coming. You'd tell him too, after he's done with his phone call.

“I'll tell them you'll be there in a minute, Coriolanus.” You told him, disdain dripping from your tongue as you spat out his name, before storming out of the room and down the hall.

Coriolanus looked like shit as he sat down at the mahogany desk in his study. He looked drained with dark purple bags under his eyes. His platinum blonde curls were messily sticking up every which way and he had blood staining the corner of his lip since his mouth sore was open and large.

He picked up the phone and pressed the button to transfer the video call from the living room to his study. When the caller appeared on his screen, he was met with the head of the War Council, General Prometheus Byzantine- who was also a member of President Ravinstill’s cabinet since he was the head of the War Council.

A position that Coriolanus felt that he deserved after killing Dr. Gaul a decade ago, since after all he was her assistant.

But no….

President Ravinstill felt that he was too young to be in charge of the War Council and named General Byzantine to the position while anointing Coriolanus Head Gamemaker and giving him a punny seat on the war council.

Oh, how he hated that general.

He thought about offing him, but decided against it since another military great would just replace him. Instead, Coriolanus decided to climb the political social ladder and make allies (allies was a loose term) with anyone that could boost his election potential.

And once he became a senator, well, he knew that he had the perfect political background to successfully run for president. Which is why he started to slowly poison President Ravinstill during meetings about the games. The man was old, so it'd just look like natural causes took him. An illness of sorts.

It was perfect, his plan.

And it worked, since he was getting a call about the president being made unfit to rule the country.

“Good day, General Byzantine, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Coriolanus politely asked the man who had stolen his rightful spot running the war council.

The man he assumes will be his biggest threat and political rival while running for President of Panem.

“Good Day, Head Gamemaker Snow.” The general responded. “I’ve called to inform you that the cabinet’s met with the ministry and we’ll be announcing later tonight that the president is unwell and unable to enact his duties to the country.”

“So, the Senate’s in charge for the time being.” Coriolanus concluded, subconsciously tonguing the sore in his cheek since it stinging and hurting.

“Yes.” General Byzantine nodded, only to go into a lengthy explanation of, “There has to be a preliminary between those intending to run in order to see who the top 2 contenders are; then there has to be a campaign season and an election. All of which must be scheduled with enough time for tours, campaign speeches, debates, and related functions.”

“So, it'll take at least a year?” The platinum blonde, who looked like the pale horse of death itself, asked the former war hero- who he despised.

“Typically elections are held in November, but only the preliminary can be held this November.” General Byzantine told Coriolanus, who had already figured out in his head what he just heard.

“So, over a year then.”

General Byzantine nodded, before changing the subject with the remark of, “I saw that the new victor answered your phone. She keeping your dick wet as you cry over dearly departed Livia?” A sinister smirk formed on the general’s tan face as he darkly remarked, “When you're done stretching open her tight holes, I’ll pay your high price for her. Hell, I'll pay double what you want to charge for that pretty little district whore.” Tipping his head back, General Prometheus Byzantine chuckled, “She’s too beautiful to be district scum; has the looks of a Capitol whore tho.”

Hearing General Byzantine insult you and confess that he wanted you as his personal Capitol whore had Coriolanus' blood boiling. He was seething, seeing red like a raging bull. How dare that bastard want you.

Wasn't it bad enough that he stole his rightfully inherited position as Head of the War Council from him? Now he wanted to make you his personal whore. And wanted Coriolanus to break you in for him too. Oh, how dare he.

HOW DARE HE!

HOW.

DARE.

HE.

Coriolanus stared the general down, his icy eyes hard as stone. His baritone dripped with a firm possessiveness as he said, “My darling rose isn't for sale, General Byzantine. She is mine and I don't share what's mine.”

“Oh, Coriolanus, I'm sure you'll get tired of your little victor turned mistress once the novelty’s worn off.” The general said in a know-it-all type chuckle. “Call me when that happens and we'll talk about pricing. I have to call up some other senators about President Ravinstill, but have a nice day.” General Byzantine told Coriolanus before hanging up on him.

You heard a loud crash coming from Coryo's study. Even tho you were mad at him for slapping you (again), you were worried about him. He was still weak, had at least another 4 days until he's healed up enough to put your mind at ease, and you were concerned that he fell down.

Without a second thought, you turned off the stove and rushed to his study. When you stepped (more like ran) inside you were met with Coryo hunched over his desk, that was cleared of everything that had been on it. All kinds of things including the small desk sized video phone were scattered on the floor.

You quickly realized the crashing you heard was the platinum blonde sweeping everything off his desk in a flash of anger. What got him so upset? His call couldn't have been that bad, could it?

“Coryo, you need to calm down and rest.” You told him, appearing at his side and helping him back into his large, leather desk chair.

“I can't just calm down, my darling rose.” Coriolanus snapped, his tone full of aggravation and cold hard hate. You arched a curious brow at his remark, only for him to grab you by the waist and pull you onto his lap. “General Byzantine wants to take you away from me and I can't have that, baby. I can't lose you, you're mine and belong to me.” He ranted as you placed your hands on his shoulders while straddling his lap.

Holy hell…seems like his call with a member of President Ravinstill’s cabinet wasn't all professional. Coryo's remark made you wonder what happened, so you asked him, “I thought we belonged to each other, Coryo. Why would some general want to take me away from you?”

“Because he's lusting after what's mine, Y/N.” Coryo told you, his large callused hands holding you close to him. Anchoring you, preventing you from moving away. “He stole the position of Head of the War Council from me when my predecessor, Dr. Gaul died. I was her assistant and should've been given both her Head Gamemaker position and her position as the Head of the War Council, but General Prometheus Byzantine convinced President Ravinstill that I wasn't experienced enough for the position; had himself placed in it instead and had me given a seat on the council as a junior member.”

You kept your face neutral and just nodded at him, urging him to continue with his rant. Maybe if he gets everything off his chest he'll be able to nap; leave you alone for a bit.

If you're left alone, maybe you'll be able to use the phone to make a quick call to the mines to speak with Rein. Or maybe to the Hob to see if Ashlie’s there. You missed your family- terribly, and didn't want them worrying too much about you since your timeline of post-game events was different then other victors. 

Usually, a victor already did their exit interview and had their crowning and victory ball at the presidential palace by now, but given how Coryo was suffering from adverse effects of an arsenic based poisoning, all of your events have been postponed. Coryo said that he'd arrange for your events once he was better

But you knew that your family must be worried sick about you. They expected to see you by now, if not in person then on tv. And after you collapsed out after winning your games, well, you know that Rein and Ashlie must be worried sick about you.

Coryo’s long fingers dug into your hips. His icy blue eyes were raging with a fiery anger as he spat out, “That bastard told me, very crudely, that he wants you once I'm done with you. That he'll pay for you; make you his whore.”

Your eyes widened in horror at his blunt words. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Coriolanus claimed that you belonged to him; that he wanted you by his side.

“Coryo, you wouldn't whore me out to some old general to, I dunno, get on his good side? Would you?”

Horror crossed over the platinum blonde man’s features. How could you think that he'd do such a thing? You were his obsession, his possession, his Victor, his darling rose, his baby, his girl.

You're his girl.

And only his girl.

Coryo cupped your cheek, the one he kept slapping and bruising, only to lean his forehead against yours, “Y/N, my darling rose, you're my girl. You belong to me and I don't share what's mine with anybody.” His breath was hot against your skin; the smell of blood wafted into your nose- the metallic, tangy scent should've curdled your stomach, but it didn't.

Perhaps your time in the games had changed your sense of smell when it came to blood, considering you smelt so much of it for nearly a week.

Coryo's baritone sounded out into the air with the promise of, “We belong to each other, Y/N. You're my girl and I'm going to marry you before fall comes. I promise, you'll be mine and only mine.”

“You're going to make me permanently yours by marrying me; making me your wife?” You asked for clarity, because if his answer was yes then you had one condition to the marriage he was forcing you into.

“Yes.” Coriolanus told you, his baby blues full of nothing, but honesty. Which, for him, was a rare feat in itself. “I’m going to marry you right away, after filing the K-1 Visa paperwork, and I'm going to make you my First Lady.”

Now it was your turn to look at him wide-eyed. “Make me your First Lady…” You let out in disbelief. “You're going to run for president, since President Ravinstill's old and frail; might be incompetent.” You told Coryo, even though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Yes, I'm going to become President Snow and you're going to be First Lady Snow.” Coryo told you with such strong conviction. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, only to tell you, “General Prometheus Byzantine is not only my political rival, but he's a danger to you, my darling.” Locking his eyes with yours, he revealed, “Smiley hasn't gotten back to me yet, so I don't know if your apothecary book's been sent out to us, but when we get that book I need you to make me a poison to give to the general.”

“Coryo…” You sighed, the weight of his words hitting you straight in the chest like a ton of bricks. Yes, you did tell him you'd make him plant based poisons with safe antidotes to take beforehand, but you weren't expecting him to cash in on that offer so soon. 

“I have to poison him, Y/N.” He told you, his voice firm, but velvety smooth. He pulled you in close to him, making you lean your head against his chest, as he declared, “It's the only way to ensure that you're safe; that I make it to the presidential palace, baby.” Carding his hands thru your hair, he sighed, “He's too dangerous to the both of us kept alive too long. He's got too much power; could very well beat me in a preliminary poll if I don't get rid of him now.” Coriolanus' voice shook with a deep rooted bitterness as he spat, “I won't give him the chance to overpower me; take you away. I promised to keep you safe and I'm going to do that by getting rid of him.”

“I knew I'd have to kill for my survival in the arena, during the Hunger Games, but I thought I'd be done with killing for my survival once the games were over.” You honestly admitted into his chest.

Coryo ran a hand up and down your back while telling you, “All of Panem's an arena and life's nothing, but one big Hunger Games. There's two types of people in this world, the weak who don't survive and the strong who’ll do anything to survive; who are the victors.” Looking down at you, he said, “You and I, my darling rose, are victors.” His head dipped low, so that his lips were ghosting over yours, as he told you, “Snow lands on top and you, my dear, are now considered a Snow.”

Your hand strokes his cheek, as you firmly tell him, “If I'm to be your wife; your First Lady Snow, then you'll stop smacking me in the face to teach me manners.” Before he could protest, you barrelled on with, “I refuse to end up like so many of the girls do in 12, beaten and broken by a man. I won't just sit around and let you slap me around every single day.” A dead serious look flashed in your eyes as you told him, “If you ever and I mean ever lay hands on me again then you better hire a taste tester because I will put something in your drink.”

Coriolanus smirked at your words. You truly were a victor. Only a victor would have the nerve to threaten him. Only a woman worthy of the Snow name could level with him. Give him an ultimatum.

Yes, your demand intrigued him because it meant that you agreed to marry him although you had one condition.

And that one condition he would grant you.

But only you, because if any other woman in Panem said those words you said to him, well, they'd be dead before dusk.

But you were different. You were his Victor, his survivor, his other half that he'd polish and shine up to be presentable on his arm in front of the Capitol citizens.

“I won't hit you out of anger again. You have my word, Y/N.” Coryo promised you. “But you must promise me to act more like a capitolite. We need to have a pure and pristine image while I'm running for president.”

“When do you plan on announcing your presidential campaign?” You curiously asked. You secretly hoped that it wouldn't be too soon. You just wanted to figure out how to navigate your new life in peace without the media chasing you down because you're with the game maker turned politician.

“The answer to that, my darling, will be revealed all in good time.” Coryo told you before nipping at your neck.

Trying to wiggle free from his grasp, you reminded him, “Coryo, you're still recovering.”

“You're such a strict nurse, not letting me have what I want even tho I'm feeling better.”

“Stop trying to fool me, Coryo. I know you've still got a few more days to go before you're in tip top shape.”

“The day you declare me with a clean bill of health’s the day I’m going to fuck you so hard into our mattress that you won't be walking right for a week.” Coriolanus told you, his tone blunt and full of the promise of things to come.

Things that you're not sure you're ready for. Things that you know will happen with him, since he's so determined. Things that you know you'll let happen because, deep down, you find him to be the most beautiful man you've seen in you're entire life and you want him too. You want him even tho you know you shouldn't.

You're the victor of the First Quarter Quell and he's the Head Gamemaker that has large aspirations of becoming the President of Panem. It's a match made in hell at best. 

But your man's a serpent and you’re losing yourself to him; will eat the forbidden fruit that he offers you.

You'll be his partner in crime; his other half in his poisonous schemes. 

But you don't know that yet. All you k ow right now is that he needs you to help him kill to keep both of you safe, he craved political power, is determined to make an honest woman out of you after murdering his first wife, and he wants to fuck you til hw blows out your back.

And whoever said that life would go back to normal after winning the games was full of shit. 

Because nothing about your life’s normal right now. 

But normalcy is overrated, isn't it?

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

[rocksibblingsau]

I been having a lot of country Brickory and general Hickory thoughts and wanted a place to ramble. So where we go

This is kinda of an unpopular opinion, but I always loved how Hickory acted after his liar reveal. He looks so sad revealing himself as a liar to Poppy, like a pathetic wet kitty really and even after that, he still has this goofie and stupid smile on. There no bravado or confidence anymore, he kinda just a pathetic failure of a guy. And I love that about him.

Anyways, country Brickory. How I view that their relationship plays out is that Branch IS attracted to the confident, work working, competent and charming bounty hunter that unashamedly flirts with him, but that's as deep as it goes. That is nothing uniquely appealing about Hickory that Branch can't find on almost every single bachelor and bachelorette in town (hard working? competent? fearless and possibly deathly? that could describe literally anyone on Lonesome Flats)

No, what makes Branch really fall for Hickory is what he sees when he's vulnerable, a kinda pathetic boyfailure of a german boy, who has a too wide and honestly kinda ugly grin, who screams "HAYOOOOO" when Branch finally allows Hickory to take him out on a date and that tears up a little bit when his latest attempt to make his mother-in-law like STILL doesn't work. Someone who he can see himself in.

Because, just like Hickory, Branch may not be putting up a facade (they are both truly very competitive, confident, hard working and honestly? deathly people), but he's still has a part of him that he conceals. Branch IS the ideal of country troll, but there will always be a part of him that still is that vulnerable troll that wants to be held and loved, that deep-down still hopes his brothers will come home to him and live with him a underground hideout, that giggles of the thought of Hickory tenderly kissing him on the cheek and singing foo uim.

Because, no matter how much Branch tries to pass himself as purely this hardcore and ruthless troll, when taking being loved and loving, he is always be the biggest sap. He's tender, caring, thoughtful, kind and affectionate, and most importantly, he is vulnerable. Branch can never truly love someone and get close to that someone if he can't let his guard down and be very single part of himself with the one he loves. And there is probably still a part of a Branch that is afraid to be vulnerable with the rest of his community, I mean let's be honest it's Branch we're talking about.

Branch looks around at all these confident and charming trolls from his town and likely its feels a part of him that is still afraid of rejection. Will these trolls still like him if he's vulnerable? If he still afraid of rejection and craves the love of people who abandoned him years ago? Who doesn't truly care about big shows of competence and skill, who just wants to hold his partner's hand and talk about nonsense in the dead of night? It's too much of a risk for Branch, to hypothetically lose the respect and sense of belonging he worked so hard for. But not with Hickory. And not only he could easily ran Hickory out of town if he rejected him or broke his heart without anyone questioning him (though that certainly helps)

Because with Hickory he doesn't have to wonder anymore if he can show something besides all of the charm and skills. He seen the side of Hickory who is unattractive, goofy and vulnerable, the side that feels real, raw and imperfect. Branch is very attracted to Hickory's bounty hunter attitude, hunting with him, flirting over a bound criminal, confidently throwing bickers and pick up lines to each other. But what he loves about him? The Hickory who gingerly kisses him on the cheek like some teenager boy with his first love, who still wants to impress his older brother and make him proud, who burned down the kitchen trying to bake Delta's favourite pie and who stutters over a love poem that likely sounded better in german. Who tenderly holds his calloused hands and calls them soft.

Branch hates being called soft or pretty, except when Hickory does it, because it's not a hidden insult or a denial of his hard work as an adult. Hickory knows how much Branch works and does his all for his community, but he also sees the Branch who tenderly tucks his niece in, who feeds his sickly grandpa soup every evening, who bakes and knits for his own enjoyment and who lovely wraps Hickory's bandages no matter if they came from a dangerous hunt or a scrapped knee and kisses them when he's done. He doesn't ignore the rough feel of his skin and the strength that could only came with hours of backbreaking work, he just thinks that despite it all they still have the capacity do be soft and caring, like Branch. He also doesn't ignore the fact Branch was grey or loves him despite it, he runs his fingers through his hair and calls it as pretty as midnight, because he genuinely finds it as pretty as midnight or thunder clouds.

Sorry if this is absurdly long, I just love how even in canon Branch went from this emotionless hard working and rude troll to this affectionate and silly troll with Poppy and how country Branch, while still in a WAY healthier state of mind, should still likely have this hidden tender and vulnerable side to him. And then I thought of how pathetic and unconfident Hickory acted after the real and my mind just made the connection. I love them so much, need to lock them in a box and lowly feed them lettuce. My little mentally ill 6 cm tall stupid creatures.

(also anyways, I didn't explore much of Dickory and Branch relationship but wanted to include as an ending note that I really think that Dick absolutely loves Branch as a brother-in-law. He probably likes Branch more than he likes Hickory as brother lmao)

I don't have anything to add to this, I just love it and need everyone else to read it

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 2 - "It didn't have to be this way"

| Scream | Double Cross | Made to Watch |

Everyone's favorite wholesome couple is back!! /j I didn't proofread (then again when do I ever), so sorry in case its kind of messy lol.

CW: Yandere/intimate whumper, torture, blood, implied noncon, kidnapping, murder (not Rowan or Sawyer)

...

Rowan couldn't go a single second without Sawyer mentioning his past life. It seemed that no matter how much time passed, Sawyer refused to accept the new life they lived together. That really hurt his feelings.

Why couldn't Sawyer see that he only did these things because he loved him? He did everything he did out of love, and Sawyer needed to appreciate him for that.

He set down a cup of tea for him and sat across from him at their small dining room table. Sawyer eyed the cup and saucer but didn't touch it. He did that sometimes, tried to pretend he wasn't hungry or thirsty.

"Come on, drink up. It's herbal and it's good for you." Rowan took a sip from his own teacup, his eyes never leaving Sawyer's face.

"It sucks. I want coffee," Sawyer bitterly said. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the dark wood of the table.

Rowan dragged out a sigh. "I think you've had enough caffeine in your lifetime. Besides, this has chamomile in it, and that helps you sleep. That's what you want, right?"

He hated the fact that Sawyer still couldn't sleep in their bed, and preferred the guest bedroom's old, worn mattress. Sometimes Rowan would allow him a slight bit of space, but only sparingly.

"I want to go home." Sawyer's voice cracked. "I miss my friends, I miss the club, and... I want to be with people again, Rowan."

"You have me." Rowan scowled at him. "That should be enough. What's so wrong with that?" Sawyer shook his head, but kept his mouth shut. To Rowan, it just proved he was right. "Besides, why sing in front of a bunch of perverted drunks when you can sing here? In front of someone who actually cares about you?"

Sawyer clenched his jaw. "People who love others usually don't go out of their way to torture them."

Of all things, Sawyer had to bring that up.

Rowan sighed heavily. He really thought that they were making progress, but apparently that wasn't the case. Sawyer was just getting more defiant by the day. Rowan needed to do something about it, but it seemed like Sawyer became immune to his typical punishments. If only he could just bash in the brains of one of those friends Sawyer talked nonstop about.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. If he killed one of Sawyer's friends, maybe he could learn a lesson about gratitude.

Then maybe he could finally forget all about that life and live in the one where he belonged with him.

That bartender--Lucien, he think his name was--was definitely a suitable option. He knew him and Sawyer were close, they always shot witty quips back at each other at Indigo. It filled Rowan with rage every time he watched their interactions.

He always had a feeling that bastard wanted Sawyer in more than just a friendly way. He didn't miss the way those dark eyes swept over his beloved every time he was on stage.

The more he thought about Lucien, the angrier he got. His hands tightened around the handle of his cup so hard it almost broke.

Rowan downed the rest of the tea like a shot. "If you keep this behavior up, Sawyer, I think we're both gonna regret it," he warned. Sawyer simply rolled his eyes in response. He didn't take Rowan seriously, and that pissed him off.

Part of Rowan was bluffing. He didn't like the thought of killing someone unless absolutely necessary, but... maybe this was necessary.

It wouldn't take too much effort to get to him. The bartender was not only scrawny, but even shorter than Sawyer. That made him the perfect victim.

He didn't try to hide his malicious smile. "Have it your way."

...

The next two weeks were somehow even more of a struggle than before. Rowan really thought Sawyer would have time to think over his vague threat, but it seemed like nothing affected him anymore. Sawyer had given up completely, and it hurt Rowan to see him that way. But what made it worse was the fact that Sawyer hadn't eaten in a week, and it didn't look like he planned on doing it any time soon.

Rowan was considering going back on his idea to murder Sawyer's friend, but the last straw happened just a few hours ago.

"You need to eat," Rowan insisted. He pushed Sawyer's plate in front of him. "I made your favorite."

Sawyer blinked at him tiredly. "I don't wanna."

Rowan ground his teeth. He tried so hard to remain patient for him, but all of that was quickly wearing off. He always considered himself a patient man, but it seemed as though Sawyer made him snap in more ways than one.

"Please, sweetheart. Just a few bites?" Sawyer remained silent, even having the gall to scoff at him. "This is for your own good, love. If you don't eat--"

"What? You're gonna beat me again?" Sawyer cut him off with a sharp tone. He couldn't hold back a dry, sarcastic laugh. "I'm over it, so go ahead." He propped his chin in his hand, his expression so cold it sent shivers down Rowan's spine.

"I was going to say you'll need to be put on a feeding tube." Rowan's voice was even, but Sawyer could sense anger bordering in his words. "Do you really want that?"

Sawyer huffed. "No, but I'm sure you'd be into that, right?" He saw a twitch of rage in his face and he smiled triumphantly. "Go on. Tell me about how it's for my own good. You love to hear yourself talk, right?" Rowan glared at him. "You spout the same shit every day, I have it all memorized! I can't tell if you're delusional or in denial, so I don't even know what it'll take to get it through your head that I hate you!"

He slammed his fist down on the table, hitting the edge of the plate and sending the contents flying off it.

After the shatter of the glass resounded the kitchen, the room became silent. Sawyer stared at the mess he made, then to the stunned Rowan across the table.

He swallowed hard, his stomach churning at the realization he may have gone a little far this time.

Sawyer always knew when to toe the line, when to push Rowan just enough to where he felt justified in his actions. But he'd never outright provoked him like that.

"Well," Rowan started. Sawyer couldn't see his face, but he heard the venom dripping in his words. "You've done it now."

And now, with Sawyer tied up and gagged back in the shed, Rowan decided he was done stalling.

It took almost three hours just to get into the city again, but it was worth it when he recognized the familiar street that led to Indigo. He pulled over by an alley, parking so his car was out of view. His timing was great, since he subconsciously memorized Lucien's schedule after memorizing Sawyer's, given he used to visit Indigo practically every day.

Lucien was smoking out back. Perfect. He went to the trunk and took out his gun, along with a few other supplies that he brought just in case.

The alley was deserted, but Rowan needed to work fast just in case some other staff member decided to join him.

"Hey," he called out as he approached. Lucien jumped and turned around.

The man looked up at him after brushing some of his own dirty blond hair out from his face. His brow furrowed, looking Rowan up and down. He didn't recognize him, clearly. Good.

"Hi?" Lucien paused. "Can I help you?"

Rowan smiled. "Yes, as a matter of fact." He leaned in close and used the little space between them to shove the muzzle of his gun into his stomach. "You're going to follow me and not say a word. Right?" Lucien stuttered in surprise, but managed to nod. "Good, now let's go." He nudged him with the weapon to show him where to go, which was back to his car.

Once they got there, Rowan unlocked the trunk and gestured to it. "Get in." He didn't expect the smaller man to climb in with no issues, but he didn't complain about it either.

It almost made Rowan feel sympathy for the guy, seeing him squished into the trunk. But that went away once he remembered who he was.

He was quick to tie him up and then slammed the trunk closed. He glanced around to make sure no one saw him, then climbed into the driver's seat. He wasted no time peeling out of the alley and speeding back to his lakehouse, where he was happy to dispose of him.

Rowan wasn't a sadistic man (at least that's what he convinced himself of) but he had no problem making sure Sawyer knew what he was capable of.

Sawyer was already devastated when he killed that random guy who tried to help him out. Even though it broke his heart terrifying his darling so much, he was still hoping this would teach him a lesson.

Maybe that time it didn't, but this one would surely be the nail in the coffin.

Rowan pulled in the driveway and cut off the engine. He stepped out, opened the trunk, and hauled the screaming bartender onto his shoulder. The bastard thrashed and kicked, but Rowan just held him tighter. He managed to slam the trunk closed while still holding his writhing captive. He stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him with his foot.

"I don't know what I did to you, but I'm sorry," he pathetically shrieked. Tears poured from his eyes. "You- you don't have to do this. We can talk about this!"

It was amusing how quickly his tough guy persona was dropped. Every time Rowan had seen him, he was always flexing his nonexistent muscles and acting all confident.

Now he was a sniveling mess, begging for his life.

Rowan opened the door to the basement, where he would've put Sawyer if not for what he was about to do. He threw the man down the stairs and left the room to retrieve Sawyer.

Sawyer was asleep when he opened the shed with a loud creak. He looked so beautiful when he was sleeping, he always had.

His eyes slowly fluttered open, then widened when he noticed Rowan standing over him. He tried to say something through the gag, but Rowan made no attempt to try to understand him. Right now, he didn't care what he was saying.

He picked up Sawyer and carried him inside, and to the basement. The man at the bottom of the stairs started crying harder as soon as he spotted Sawyer, and Sawyer returned the gesture.

Rowan sat Sawyer on the floor, much more gently than he did with Lucien. He removed the gag from his mouth.

"Lucien!" Sawyer wailed. He tried crawling over to him, but he didn't get very far. "Fuck... fuck..." He fell forward on his face, squirming in an attempt to escape his binds. "You motherfucker! What is wrong with you?!" This was the angriest he had ever sounded. But Rowan, who knew Sawyer better than anyone, knew he was more scared than anything.

But sometimes things like this needed to be done. Just a bit of tough love.

"Sawyer?" Lucien's voice broke. "Are you okay? What did he do to you?" His gaze flickered to the bruises littering his skin. Sawyer didn't answer. His shoulders shook violently.

Rowan stood by and watched with a blank face. "I thought you already learnt what I'm capable of, but I guess you need a reminder. Do you still hate me, my love?"

He didn't respond. Sawyer's breathing was harsh, tears streaming down his cheeks. He curled into a ball as much as possible with his hands bound behind him.

"Sawyer--" Lucien started.

"Shut the fuck up!" Rowan snapped at Lucien, silencing him. He grasped his gun out of his coat and pointed it at him.

He paused when he felt something on his shoe. Rowan glanced down to see Sawyer had crawled over to him, his body pressed against his legs. He was shaking like a leaf and giving him a teary-eyed expression, one Rowan was admittedly weak to.

"Please," he choked out. "Please don't kill him... please... I don't hate you, I love you, just let him go..."

Rowan adjusted his grip on the gun. He wanted to believe him, but he wasn't that stupid, especially after being fooled by him once. "You're a good actor, darling, but my heart can't take being deceived again. You've played with it enough. It didn't have to be this way."

Despite his words, Sawyer sobbed in relief when Rowan tucked the gun away. It didn't end there. He pulled something else out of his coat. It was a small but undoubtedly sharp switchblade. He grasped Lucien by the collar of his dress shirt, pulling him up so he could plunge the knife into his stomach, all the way down to the hilt. The action was met with an agonized cry from both of them.

Sawyer's eyes were so wide, so full of terror. Rowan could hear him begging, but couldn't care less in the moment.

He twisted the knife in his gut, watching blood seep past his fingers and soak through his clothes. Lucien's cries echoed around the room, incoherent and garbled. Rowan threw him to the ground.

"No more!" Sawyer blubbered, "please, no more, please! I'll do whatever you want! I'll never complain again, I'll never fight you again! Please!" He shrieked loudly, a scream so strong that his voice broke, turning into nothing but a raspy squeal.

At first, Rowan was about to say 'fuck no' and finish gutting him like a fish. He then thought over his words. He was still going to kill Lucien, no doubt about that, but...

"Whatever I want," he mused. "You'll say yes if I propose? Sleep with me? Let me touch you without complaint?" Sawyer nodded so furiously his head nearly flew off. That was a reaction that satisfied him. "And if you go back on your promise, I'll bring you his head. Do you understand that?" Another rapid nod. "Okay. I want you to remember your deal with me. I'd hate for you to think I'm bluffing."

Sawyer cried into the cold ground as Rowan dragged Lucien off, with the promise of taking him to a hospital.

Little did Sawyer know, Rowan buried him in the backyard.

[tainted-heartz]

Oftentimes I see obsessive/yandere Wally x readers that make the reader reject him and find him creepy— which is a realistic reaction but it just makes me sad :( What about a reader who's into him despite, no because of his red flags, huh? What about a reader who's willing to give him everything he wants, allowing him to touch and feel and smell you and cling to you like a baby koala to its mother? He is fucked up it is part of his appeal!! Fuck being realistic I wanna hug my muppet man.

| I fully agree with u bc as much as I enjoy making wally creepy in my yandere fics and the reader rejecting him in most I've always wanted to just...have the reader accept him as their lover- |

- now ever since you somehow accepted all of wally's...flaws he barley left your side. you were willing to accept his obsessive nature but you could already tell he'd be attached to your hip and practically on you 24/7. you didn't know it would be TERRIBLY bad.

- now if we're talking about wally in the human world , he stays in the human world almost all the time. just so he can be held by you and hear your voice clearly. he can't help but also just play with your hair even if you're busy. he even smells your hair whenever he THINKS you won't notice but either way you won't mind..hopefully.

- if you live alone he'll be on your back like a baby koala , say goodbye to even taking SHOWERS alone. he'll just sit on the sink waiting for you to come out and respects if you want him to look away. he doesn't want to make his lover uncomfortable after all!

- if you end up growing into holding him like a plush whenever you go to sleep he is practically over the MOON. if you lay your head on his chest he'll just be happy , playing with your hair but if you just hold him close to your chest he'll be resting his head on your chest. even if you can't see him he's practically a lovesick mess with the fact he's able to be so close to you.

- he'll eventually ask if you could get him some art supplies , since its one of his big hobbies. once you do he always asks if he can paint you but his painting becomes more of an..obsession. he paints you and only you everywhere and even if you're doing the smallest task. sometimes he even slips multiple hearts into the painting , its almost like he forgot about home and everyone else. the only thing in his head is you.

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

vacation. ( Danny messer x reader )

gif belongs to me

You looked at your fiancée as he drove, a smile forming on your lips when he drummed his hands on the steering wheel, and Danny turned his head when he felt your stare.

"What?" He chuckled.

"Nothing." You brushed off, licking your lips as you decided to reveal your thoughts. "It's just nice to see you relaxed like this."

"Well, I'm heading to the coast for a week." He reached over and took your hand, "Just 5 days of coastline with my gorgeous fiancée." He kissed the back of your hand, and your smile grew.

Danny smiled over at you before focusing on the road ahead. The smile on your lips let him know it wasn't too late. There was still time to bridge the distance that had grown between you in recent months. His work was consuming, and since moving in together, you were realising just how much. You felt out of place in an apartment that didn't quite feel like home yet, and with Danny leaving at all hours to solve cases, you were having doubts about your relationship. It was hard to have a relationship when you rarely saw each other.

When Danny proposed getting away for a week, you were stunned when he showed you the hotel's website, explaining that he had booked it while at work. After your argument about not seeing him enough, Danny cooled down and understood that your frustration was born from the loneliness you were feeling and decided a getaway was exactly what you both needed to reconnect.

When you arrived at the hotel, you set your suitcase down and approached the bed, collapsing with a huff. Danny chuckled as he closed the door, looking around as he set the bags down.

"What do you think? Pretty sweet, right?"

You rested your head on your hand, elbow pressing into the bed as you met his gaze. You could see how hard he was trying, and it meant the world to you to know that he still cared enough to try and felt guilty for arguing with him when he worked so damn hard.

"Eh." You giggled when he ran to the bed, squealing as he moved you onto your back, hovering over you. "Alright, alright, it's pretty fancy!"

Danny smiled down at you, tucking your hair behind your ear, "I'm really looking forward to this week. No work, no family, just us. Which reminds me…" He took out his cell phone and turned it off, "Now we're officially alone."

You placed a hand on his cheek, tilting your head up to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you welcomed the passion in his kiss.

"I love you, Danny Messer."

Danny rested his forehead against yours with a smile, "I love you, soon to be Mrs. Messer."

You reignited the kiss with a giggle, the chill of your engagement ring grazing his cheek as he deepened the kiss.

After unpacking and exploring the hotel, you headed to the car, handing Danny his shades before he drove off. He looked at you when you took a photo with your camera, and you smiled softly as you saved the photo.

"I hope you got my good side." He jested as he drove off.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "You don't have a bad side."

Danny grinned, "Really?" He pursed his lips as he nodded his head, "Good to know."

"Don't let it go to your ego too much." You looked out your lowered window, smiling as you rested your camera on your lap.

Danny laughed, and you looked at him with a smile. When he first pitched the idea of going on a vacation, away from the city, you weren't thrilled with the idea in the beginning as you believed that one phone call would bring the vacation to an abrupt end, and you were also worried that spending time together would make you realize that your feelings for him had changed. But Danny pitched the idea to turn off your cell phones, and the idea appealed to you knowing that he was really dedicated to reconnecting with you. And since you hit the road, it felt like old times in the early days of your relationship. You fell into old habits, joking and holding hands whenever you could.

During the drive to the hotel, Danny realized just how much of an impact his job had on your relationship, the lack of time together coupled with you both feeling like you were living with a stranger most days. Danny always wanted to make you laugh, and lately, that seemed impossible due to the tension festering between you, as he held your hand as he drove, he felt like a weight had been lifted off both your shoulders.

He had finished work early the night before and woke up feeling invigorated, and your excitement about the trip, mentioning the brochures you had printed online made him realize just how big a toll work was taking on him lately. When you were together, he was exhausted, and his fuse was short, and it led to many arguments until eventually, you stopped talking altogether. There was no denying that you both needed this vacation to get away for a while.

Danny parked at the beach, and you put on your hat, reaching into the back of the car for your bag with towels and snacks inside, glancing at Danny as he got out of the car. You smiled softly as you quickly grabbed your camera, snapping a photo as he stretched, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of his shirt.

He looked at you with a smile as you checked the photo, taking the bag from you as he locked the car.

"You will be grateful that I take these one day."

"Already am." He took your hand, and you smiled, leaning into his side as you made your way onto the sand.

After a while, you came across a food truck, and Danny practically drooled at the idea of eating fish and chips. After buying some to share, you leaned on the pier and gazed out at the water, smiling as Danny recalled the last time you had gone on vacation together. It was your parents' anniversary and you had invited Danny abroad to spend a week in the sunshine. Between your parents and siblings remarking about the hours Danny's job had, he could tell that they were whispering in your ear and it had sucked the excitement right out of you. While Danny had won them over now, he wouldn't forget the way they made him feel back then.

"I love your family, but this is way better than our last vacation."

You nodded in agreement, "The company isn't half bad either."

Danny raised an eyebrow, chuckling when he saw the teasing smile on your lips. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

You playfully swatted his arm, and he placed his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your head. "I'm really glad you agreed to this."

"I'm really glad you suggested it."

You met his gaze when he turned you around, your back resting against the railing and your hands running up and down his biceps.

"I know things haven't been great between us. And I know a lot of it has to do with my job, the strain it's taken on me. I said some things I can never take back -"

"Danny, you don't have to -" You shook your head, but he cradled your cheek, silencing you.

"I want you to know that I want to do better - that I will be better. Getting to come home to you every day is my favorite part. I'm sorry for making you think that you weren't important to me when you are the most important person in my life and I meant it when I said I want to spend the rest of it with you."

You placed your hands on his cheeks, tears falling down your cheeks as your lips met. "I love you."

"I love you too." He wrapped his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. "More than I can put into words."

When Danny returned to work, everyone noticed the bounce in his steps, how he called you during lunch breaks, and on the way home. He would plow through his paperwork to make it home at a reasonable time, falling asleep with you in his arms instead of miles apart beside you.

The week-long vacation had worked wonders for your relationship, and the apartment soon felt like home. You no longer felt like you were falling asleep next to a stranger, but the man you couldn't wait to call your husband.

[mlove44lh]

Don’t hurt yourself

Chapter 3 - Anger

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: cheating, angst, mention of infertility, mention of blood and hospital (really short), alcohol use.

Lewis is a real asshole in this chapter, I think that could go as a warning too.

Words: 2.750

“If it's what you truly want ... I can wear her skin over mine. Her hair over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph, all three of us. Immortalized ... you and your perfect girl. I don't know when love became elusive. I think of lovers as trees ... growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light.

Why can't you see me? Everyone else can.”

I step slowly into the apartment, my head spinning with the anger I feel and all the alcohol from earlier. The place seems different from what I had left before, the white walls filled with memories in the form of our photos no longer bring me the comfort and happiness they used to.

I can hear Lewis' footsteps in the hallway outside. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the imminent confrontation I can no longer postpone.

Lewis slams the door behind him with enough force for the sound to reverberate throughout the apartment.

"Stop with this silent treatment bullshit. You ignored me all night. Isn't that enough?!” His voice is louder than usual.

I place my bag on the wooden dining table and turn towards Lewis, who is standing in the middle of the room with his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on me.

"I told you this conversation would happen at home.” I feel the anger burning in my throat. I seem calm, but I grit my teeth over so many emotions stuck inside me.

"Here we are." He gestures to the entire living room. "Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on? First, you've been acting weird all week. Then at dinner, you didn't say anything except to make senseless comments. You drank two bottles of champagne alone, even though you know you can't drink. Do you want to throw away all the treatment we're doing?”

Suddenly, I can't contain my emotions any longer. I explode with words that should never leave my mouth. My laughter is a humorless, painful groan. How can he bring this up now? How dare he act like nothing is happening? After cheating on me, he still has the audacity to want to build something big together?

"Fuck this treatment, Lewis! I have no interest in conceiving a child with you anymore!" I scream at him for the first time in my life, and say the worst things I could.

You know that feeling when you regret saying something even before the last word leaves your mouth? That just happened. The pain in Lewis' face becomes clear before my eyes, but it's not greater than mine. I could never imagine saying those words to him. To the love of my life.

Lewis stays quiet, motionless, as if he's glued to the floor. Like him, I try to process the words I just uttered. I don't know where they come from, or if I really feel that way. But I don't move to take them back or try to retract what I said. I think this is the moment I'll remember as the breaking point. There's no turning back after saying something like that.

But life is made of choices, and I choose to move forward with my anger.

I walk to my bag, and for a brief moment, the sound of my heels hitting the floor is the only thing that can be heard in the room.

I take out the bracelet that I've kept with me all this time, and walk up to him with the object clenched tightly in my fist.

I walk close enough to hear his breath. His eyes shine with sadness. I can't recognize us at this moment. Everything seems so wrong, so confusing. We know each other so well, but now I feel like I'm looking at a stranger.

I feel a lump in my throat, and for a moment, I'm afraid that I'll break down.

"I stopped taking the hormones five days ago, Lewis. You would know that if you paid any attention to me.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine, and I can identify an appeal in them. "I stopped when I found this in your car.”

I hold out the bracelet with my index finger near his face. I watch realization taking over his expression while his gaze moves between my face and the object in my hands. He seems to want to say something, but I don't want to hear a word from him until I finish saying everything I need to.

"The problem was there for a long time, wasn't it? It was my love for us that blinded me and didn't let me see what was right in front of me. Until this shit showed up" I throw the bracelet at his chest. Despite the almost zero distance between us, I know that Lewis barely feels the metal contact his skin. He remains motionless. The bracelet falls between us, resting on the cold floor as we continue to stare at each other. "I tried to deceive myself. Even today, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and let you make up for everything you destroyed in me."

I feel my eyes welling up, but there's more anger than sadness in the tears.

"Y/n..." Lewis' voice comes out in a tone that I don't remember ever hearing before.

I cut him off before he can say another word.

“But then I arrive there, at the dinner you invited me to.” I extend my index finger until it touches his chest, and just this minimum contact makes me tremble. “And I watch you looking at her in the same way you used to look at me. And the worst of all is that you were acting as if nothing was happening. You wore this lie so well that if she hadn't done what she did to show me the truth, I would have left that restaurant even more in love with you. While you were lying to the woman you swore loyalty to on an altar."

His fingers wrap carefully around my wrists. I try to pull away the moment I feel the contact, but Lewis doesn't let go and keeps holding me in my place.

"Y/n. Please listen to me.”

I don't want to listen to him, but I know I need his explanation.

"Go ahead. But tell me the truth if you still want the slightest consideration from me.”

It takes him a few seconds to start talking.

"It's true. But it didn't mean anything, not for a moment. It was the biggest mistake of my life, Y/n. And I know that doesn't change anything about what I did. But I'm so sorry." He puts word upon word as if his desperation could change something. "I'm sorry. I was selfish and in a bad place, and she came along and seemed so simple. I didn't think about you or us. But I swear there's nothing left. I realized what was at stake and ended everything.”

It's not a “this never happens” or “you misunderstand” the only thing I get is an apology.

Even though it was already clear, hearing it from him manages to hurt even more. His dark and guilty eyes look at me with such supplication that even staring back at him becomes a difficult task.

"When did this start?”

Lewis lowers his gaze as soon as I finish my question, perhaps out of shame or fear of my reaction to the answer.

"September.”

I break free from his grip as soon as it sinks in.

"You were fucking her while I was going through that hell?!”

I watch tears streaming down his face, but I feel no sympathy. What I want now is for him to suffer even more for the consequences of what he caused himself.

“It was a hard time for me too.”

"No." It's unbelievable that he's playing that card now. "You're not going to do this to me. Not after everything I went through.”

"But it's the truth. We were both living in hell." He says barely a second after I finish speaking.

"And your way of dealing with that was by cheating on me?!” My voice comes out in a scream for the second time tonight.

The adrenaline inside me is so intense that I can't stand still. I take a few steps back from his figure.

"Y/n, you've changed since the diagnosis." The forced laugh that comes out of me is the only thing I can express. "You think I was the one who distanced myself when, in fact, you had already been distant for a long time. You looked at me as if I were to blame for..." He trails off, regret etched on his face the moment he falls silent.

It's like a knife has been plunged into my chest. Even before he finishes, I already knew where this was going.

"Finish it. Tell me, Lewis. Tell me that I looked at you as if you were to blame for my infertility."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes, it is. It's written all over your face."

"No. I meant because of the situation we were in."

I shake my head as I stare at Lewis incredulously.

"How callous and self-centered does a person have to be to make this kind of deduction?" My voice is low, and the words spill out without much forethought. "I bled for hours, only to receive the most devastating news of my life shortly after. I left that hospital and rebuilt myself piece by piece to try to move on. And during that process, you believed yourself to be too important to not receive the attention you craved and went after that whore to stroke your ego."

Lewis tries to approach me, but I move away as soon as I realize his intention.

"Get away from me!"

"Y/n, please. I would never do that. That's not what I meant. I just want you to understand.”

"There's nothing to understand! What you did has no explanation.”

I turn my back to his figure as I feel tears streaming down my face. I wipe my face with my hands, trying not to let him see me cry. The tears are not just about what he did, it's about everything we went through together. It's about me thinking I had someone on my side who understood me and would never do this to me. But now life feels more raw than ever, and I feel alone. The pain is intense and the feeling is that it will never go away. I feel vulnerable, exposed, and very angry.

I'm not sure I can stand, so I walk over to the couch and sit on the edge of the white cushion. I feel the comfort of the upholstery in contrast to the tension in my body. As I try to calm down, Lewis comes to me and kneels on the floor, putting himself at the same height as me.

Lewis takes some time before speaking again.

"Listen. I love you so much. And I know what I did may be unforgivable. But Y/n, we have been through so much together. I really want to fix this. I don't want to give up on us.”

I don't look at him.

"But you've already done it.”

"No. I made a mistake. The biggest one, but I will never give up on us. I'll do whatever it takes, please.”

My eyes flicker towards him, but I can't bear to hold his gaze for more than a fleeting moment. It's as if looking at him for any longer would be a betrayal to the pain and anger that I feel.

"If only you had been honest. But you lied. That's even worse. You acted like everything was fine when you had just admitted that everything was wrong even before you got involved with her." Lewis wraps his fingers around my ankle as if hoping to change my thoughts with just that touch. "You promised me that whenever something went wrong, we would talk about it. And when it did happen, you just ran away from me. How do you expect me to forgive you for that?"

"Please," he begs me for something that not even he knows.

"I'm going to pack my things."

"No. Y/n, don't do that."

I stand up but can't take more than one step. Lewis comes to me and rests his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place. I feel exhausted. I think I have no more strength to keep going with this. I've reached my limit tonight, and so has he.

"Stay. This house is yours. I'll sleep in the guest room, but please don't leave. We can talk tomorrow when we're both calmer. Let's give ourselves tonight to think.”

"I've spent the last month thinking. I have nothing else to think about. I don't want to talk to you anymore, Lewis. I don't want this anymore.”

"Y/n, please. It's three in the morning. You have nowhere to go now. Stay here. You don't have to talk to me, but I don't want you driving like this in a nervous state."

His concern seems like a joke, it might have moved me if we weren't in this ridiculous situation.

"If I stay, you're the one who leaves.”

“Y/n...”

“Get your stuff.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“I don´t know. I don´t care. Go to her place. Take the opportunity to let her know that you're single now.” I go to the cellar and take the first bottle of wine I find there. “Just be careful with Matteo, he might kill you if he finds out you're fucking his little bride.”

Lewis stares at me for a few seconds before heading towards the bedroom. He knows I can't handle another minute of conversation tonight. Now the only thing I want is distance from him.

I open the wine bottle and pour a glass with a surprising calmness. Perhaps my level of stress and shock is so high that I no longer know how to deal with it.

With the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, I walk to my office and close the door behind me. I don't want to see him leave, trying to convince myself that it's because I don't want to look at him anymore, but in truth I'm afraid of not letting him pass through the door.

I take every sip of my drink as a desperate attempt to calm my emotions. I am sitting in the armchair in the middle of the dark room, and I can hear every step Lewis takes just a few meters away from me. Sometimes, I can even tell which room he is in.

But then, after a short while, I hear the final thud - the sound of our apartment door closing. And suddenly, silence fills the room, bringing with it an intense cold.

I want to allow myself to cry in this moment, but I can't. Exhaustion takes hold of my body and mind, but I know I won't be able to rest until I know what will happen with us.

Author's notes: CALM DOWN, DON'T FREAK OUT. I'll post chapter 4 soon. I promise it won't take as long as this one did.

Let me tell you, it was a struggle to write this one. I spent hours just to write a few words. It was definitely the hardest one yet.

I kinda feel bad for making Lewis such a asshole. He's like my baby, you know? But hey, we still have a few more chapters left, so who knows what could happen? (Not even I know, haha.)

Anyway, thanks for sticking around and i see you in the next one!

[slasheddreams]

Ground Control to Psychoelectric Angel [ bag of marshmallows / broken glass / blood rain ]

This story will contain the following themes, as well as a heavy emphasis on more adult themes and humors, including a portrayal of a romantic/intimate relationship between Angel and Ame.

content warning for: [ inspired by Needy Streamer Overload and the Ground Control to Psychoelectric Angel Ending ] [ heavy themes of love bombing, themes of affection and desire, brief mentions of self-harm/self-neglect, mention of taking drugs/coercing someone into taking drugs, brief mentions of childhood neglect, partial themes of memory loss/amnesia, and things of the like. ]

Even if we're on different wavelengths, I know you'll still understand me, and that's what I love about you.

There was always some kind of saying about love. I don't actually remember what it was, something stupid most likely.

Rain.

Angel wouldn't lie, he loved the rain... when it was pouring outside and he wasn't stuck walking in it. Sighing slowly, he pulled out his umbrella. Opening it slowly, he groaned.

He hated working at the convenience store so badly. The pay was so bad, the customers were abysmal at best, gross at worst, and the manager was just awful. And he was always stuck with the closing shift. While he knew this place wasn't overly dangerous, walking home in the dark was still... frightening. Taking the train alone at night already sucked, but having to travel in the rain and the fog?

Looking around as he stepped out into the rain, he sighed again. The rain was so dreary and heavy, it was... depressing. His shoes weren't made for the rain, but, rain shoes weren't made for work either... Maybe he'd have to start bringing rain shoes to work. That would be very... annoying. But, at least his feet wouldn't be so soaked next time. His shoes clicked against the ground, and light thuds of rain jumped from puddle to puddle as he walked. The sound of cars running down the street constantly filled his ears, the sound of the rain against the cars' roofs and against the stores' roofs. It was almost tranquil... if it wasn't for the splashing of water from rushing cars and drunken bystanders stumbling around and into him.

Grimacing as a man drunkenly fumbled into him, Angel huffed. This was hellish. Placing one hand on the man's shoulder, he lightly directed the man in an opposing direction. He could tell the man was drunk beyond belief, but he didn't want this man to become a big problem. He simply didn't have the desire to deal with unnecessary issues like that.

His father would tell him to have more "sympathy" in a situation like this. He wondered where that sympathy was for him during all those empty nights.

...

He didn't realize how far he strayed, leading the stumbling drunken man away from the busy street. Looking around, Angel paused a moment. He couldn't tell if it was due to the heavy rain limiting his vision, but, he was unable to identify any landmarks or anchor points. He felt... a little lost.

Just his luck.

His head turned from side to side slowly, grumbling as he down the several alleyways. In the distance, he could vaguely make out the shape of a tent and a figure, sitting out in the heavy rain. Most likely a homeless person... he was there once. It wasn't fun.

Taking a deep breath, he grimaced. He didn't own a phone, hell, he couldn't afford a phone. He only had two options. Try to find his own way back... or ask the homeless person in front of him. Neither option seemed particularly appealing.

Grumbling to himself, he hesitantly moved forward, towards the person ahead of him. His heels clicked in the heavy rain, slowly coming to a stop before the log the person sat on.

"Excuse me?"

His voice felt a little hoarse coming out of his throat like that. It sounded a little strained... a little weak. It hurt to hear himself like that.

But it did its job of garnering the attention of the homeless person in front of him. A young woman, wearing a cloth cloak, with thick, long purple hair glanced at him, ever so slightly. Nothing more than a side glance... he couldn't blame her.

"Do I know you?"

"... I don't think I do."

Angel's hand hovered over his chest slightly, and he could have sworn the woman's disappointment hung in the air. It felt so heavy... There was a moment of sadness on the girl's face, and then, she sighed, leaning her head to the side ever so slightly.

"You're lost too, aren't you?"

Angel grimaced to himself. Was it really that obvious? Biting his tongue, he nodded in response. The girl hummed slightly, nodding back.

"I was wondering if you knew how to get to the train station...? I can figure the rest out from there, but..."

The girl craned her head to the side, looking at the ground solemnly. Her eyes focused on the ground as if she were averting Angel's gaze.

"I... have memory issues. Even if I knew, I've probably forgotten by now. I don't even know my own name. It's a little sad."

Angel paused a moment, grimacing. He... felt a little bad. But he didn't ask for a sob story either. Grumbling, he took a step forward, haphazardly holding the umbrella out slightly. In doing so, the rain falling on the girl lessened. It wasn't a perfect fix, of course, he didn't know how long it had been raining on the poor thing... but something was better than nothing.

"Then, mind helping me find it? I'll buy you some food for the trouble."

It wasn't the perfect solution, of course. He barely knew the chick, and he barely knew the area either. Hell, buying her food for this one favor might put himself out of a meal. But, he knew one thing. Creeps would be less likely to try anything if they thought he was with someone. And...

He really didn't care.

He could survive with one less meal. He's done it before. He can do it again. Pausing, the girl seemed to... hesitate a moment. Standing up straight, she looked at the man a second time, then, diverted her gaze once more.

"Food. I like the way you make deals."

"... My name's Angel."

It wasn't really, but, he hated his real name. Both his first name... and his last. The girl was silent a moment, and then she reached out, hesitantly grasping ahold of the outstretched umbrella. Tilting his head slightly, he found her hand... a little odd. She wore five metallic claw coverings, one covering each finger. They were all unique with interesting markings, yet, they didn't seem to hinder her movement even slightly.

"... the name Ame means rain, right?"

"... it does. It also means candy, I think."

"I like that. Can you call me Ame?"

Pausing a moment, Angel nodded slowly. Ame... it was a nice name. But, naming yourself after the rain sounded... a little depressing. But, he wouldn't knock her for it.

...

Ame didn't talk much. Angel wasn't expecting her to, but, still. A little effort would have been nice. The silence weighed down so heavily... Angel thought it was going to crush him.

"... your memories."

It blurted out suddenly, like an unprepared confession to your middle school crush.

"My memories?"

His mind felt like it was going to explode. He turned towards Ame, his soaking off-white hair clinging to his face like a leech. He swore, every time he tried to wipe it out of his face, it would just frizz up and get back in the way.

"Yeah. You uh, you mentioned that you have memory issues back in the alleyway."

"... did I?"

... he groaned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Was it really that poor? He almost felt a little bad. Keyword: almost.

"It's... true. My memory is quite poor..."

Glancing away, Ame's gaze fell on a nearby bookstore. Her pace slowed down a little until the two ground to a complete halt. The wind chill was particularly bad that day, he felt like he was going to shatter into tiny, angel-sized pieces if they stopped too suddenly. He wondered how she seemed so unbothered by it.

"I can't remember anything. My family, my hometown, my friends if I had any... I don't even remember my name. I am... old, but not too old I think."

"Old, but not too old, huh? I'm 17 years old."

"I think the old woman I met last... it was something about becoming a... "real adult"? I don't... uhm... you know?"

"... A real adult would be an 18-year-old. And, y'know I think I kind of get the point."

"I would say it's been this way as long as I can remember... but then it becomes a little ironic. What is this place?"

Her gaze fixated on the bookstore in front of her, never wavering. Angel paused, then, hesitantly, he pointed up, towards the sign of the shop.

"It's a bookstore. They sell books and magazines in there. Some of them even sell toys and figurines, or disks and DVDs."

"It looks magical in there."

Turning towards Angel, her lips pursed a little, as if a question perched itself on the edge of her lips. A question he wasn't sure if she even remembered wanting to ask.

"... did you want to go inside?"

He wasn't... completely sure why he asked if he was being honest. He wanted nothing more than to find the train station and go back to his home. He wanted nothing more than to change out of these damn clothes that clung to his back, to heat up his day-old leftovers, eat, and smoke until he couldn't feel anything anymore. It was the only thing capable of soothing this mind-numbing pain that knawed at his skin day by dreadful day. Yet... she seemed so curious. He couldn't help but wonder, he thought to himself.

Ame nodded slowly, seeming... almost a little hesitant. He had never seen her smile, he thought to himself. Taking the umbrella from Ame's hand, he closed it, gently shaking off any excess rain before taking a step forward. Holding his umbrella, he carefully placed in it one of the provided "rain bags", ensuring the water from his umbrella wouldn't get everywhere in the shop. Then, turning to Ame, he grimaced. Her cloak... was soaked. Hesitantly, he reached over towards Ame, his hand scrapping against her face lightly as he pulled the hood back.

He didn't realize how pretty she was without it. Her eyes were such a pretty purple color, and there were snow-like freckles dotting her skin that he hadn't noticed before.

"... You have to take off your cloak before you can go inside though. We can put it inside one of these free rain bags. You can... borrow my raincoat. It might be a little big though."

Pointing toward the rain bags with his other hand, Angel paused. Ame glanced at his hand for a moment before nodding. She wasn't wearing much underneath the cloak, he realized. But what she did have on underneath the cloak was relatively dry... they could work with that, he supposed. Carefully, he took off the light blue raincoat he wore, holding it out towards her. It's a shame. That coat kept him somewhat warm.

"Here. Put it on. You look sleazy."

Pushing the door open with his arm, he motioned to Ame to follow him inside the bookstore. It felt something akin to bringing a child into a candy store. He didn't think someone could be so... amazed by something so simple.

Yet, she always seemed to find something new. And asking new questions. Just when he thought he finally ironed out the last one, like a kid in a candy store, she had a new one.

"What's "entomology"?" "Study of bugs." "Oh... ooo."

"It Ends With Us...? Who is us?" "... the people in the book?? I guess."

"What's astrology?" "Stuff about the stars. And star signs." "Star signs???"

Eventually, she settled down, seeming satisfied with the answers to her many... many questions. It felt like an eternity in there (it was only 10 minutes, though.) before Ame walked close to Angel, holding a small book in her hands. Hesitantly, she held it out towards him.

"... what's this?"

"It's a book about... space. And planets. And it's only 500 yen."

500 yen? That was... quite a normal price for a short book like that. He sighed a bit, crossing his arms as he held the book in his hand. His brows furrowed slightly as he eyed the book, then, grimacing, he scoffed as he reached into his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he opened it up with another grimace frown. He really didn't have the spending money to be doing this.

He didn't know why, but this girl's unadulterated excitement for simple leisure had him so... smitten. He remembers a time when he was excited about his first book too, he supposed.

"Here. Go get it, it won't get any cheaper."

It would get cheaper, he thought, as he handed her a 500 yen coin. It would get cheaper. But she might not be around still when it finally does. An expression of shock flashed on Ame's face, and then, a soft smile replaced it. ... She looked really pretty when she smiled.

"Yay! Thank you... Angel?"

"Oh, hey. You remembered my name."

...

The rain seemed to have let up while they were busy accidentally shopping. How quaint. It hadn't let up completely, but the rain wasn't nearly as heavy anymore.

Looking around, Angel tilted his head. Then, as if on cue, Ame pointed toward the train station in the distance.

"Is that the train station you were looking for, Angel?"

"It was. You're so observant."

He noticed it way before she had. It was nice to see she didn't lose track of their literal one and only objective, he thought. Food... he did promise her that much. She was a good travel partner. He briefly wondered if they could be more. He didn't know why. Shaking his head, he wanted to launch that thought out of there. Why was he thinking about that? He wasn't that lonely.

Right?

"Do you have a favorite thing to eat?"

"... You're still buying me food?"

She sounded surprised by his question, taken a little aback. Angel turned and shrugged. His hair curled against his shoulders, bouncing lightly in the wind.

"I promised you. You help me find it, I'll buy you food from it. There's a 7-11 inside, I can buy you some chicken or some bread. Whatever you want."

Holding out his hand gently, Ame paused. Hesitantly, she reached out, a shaky hand hovering about his, never touching down. Sighing, Angel reached up, grabbing onto her hand, and tugging her closer.

"Come on! You can just jump the bar."

"H-Hey, wait-"

---

There was always some kind of saying about love. I think it was something about being blind?

He hummed softly as he picked up a book off the massive bookshelf. Ame's curiosity never did die out. She used to have to beg with him, to plead for him to buy her "just one more book". It was never just one book... but she was always so endearing about it. Even now and again, he finds her clinging to his arm whenever they walk past a bookstore.

Running his fingers lightly over the cover, he cocked his head to the side. His eyes felt on the silver lettering on the cover.

"Space and Planets... Wasn't this the book I bought for Ame when we first met?"

His fingers slid across the cover, gently hooking around it, and then, tugging lightly, the cover flipped over, a flurry of pages dancing in the wind. The pages were all covered in sticky notes, hand-written notes all over the book, stuck to every page.

... so that was where all his sticky notes disappeared off to. A rainy day on a closing shift and one book has opened the path to so much more... He almost missed it, a bit. Well, he didn't miss most of it. He didn't miss the grueling work schedule or the nasty customers, nor did he miss the drunken trash crowding the streets. He didn't miss the commutes, or the traveling, the pay was abysmal, the manager was certainly a piece of work, and he just... okay, correction. He didn't miss anything about the life he was about to leave behind. He just felt oddly melancholic now that it was all over.

Closing the book with a soft 'thud', Angel smiled gently. He knew most of Ame's books would have to go into storage, with the new streaming setup incoming, he simply didn't have the space for it all to fit... but it wouldn't hurt to keep the one, he thought to himself. And... it wouldn't hurt to see what all Ame had collected from him over the years either.

Entomology... the study of bugs. He hated bugs with a passion, creepy crawling creatures gave him the shudders. They were all the same, and they all needed to stay outside. They keep in their homes, and he'll stay in his own. There would be no issues. Ame didn't seem to care much for it beyond the first read, he noted. She wasn't too keen for a reread. She reread books a lot.

It Ends With Us was atrocious. He regretted spending money on it. It presented its topics horribly, without grace or tact. It led to an awkward talk with Ame, like explaining the birds and the bees to a child. He should burn it.

Astrology... Ame made him buy a couple books about it. She seemed to enjoy the topic a lot. Ame showed an interest in all things space and the stars... it was like a one-way trip on The Galatic Express. Star signs were a particular favorite of Ame's, she had four books on just those alone... she made learning new things look so hot he was kind of mad. Book nerds shouldn't be allowed to be hot. That should be illegal.

Tilting the cover of the book in his hand, he chuckled. Tossing the book into the cardboard box and shifting back on one foot, Angel tilted his head. Glancing over the now empty space, he tapped his chin softly. The first computer monitor could go over there... and the second monitor could go over there... he bought one of those rainbow keyboards-

A gentle knock on the door snapped Angel out of a planner's daze. Glancing over, his eyes fluttered slightly, falling on the young woman, standing in the doorway. Her messy purple hair was pulled back into a weak bun, and she wore a gorgeous deep purple silk robe gown and an oversized white cotton shirt. He briefly wondered what she'd look like wearing less.

"I finished packing up everything in the bedroom, Angel... I'm tired though. Moving the boxes to the living room has me exhausted..."

Chuckling softly, he leaned closer to Ame, his fingers lightly clinging along the silk ribbon tied around her waist. Tugging along the ribbon lightly, he wanted nothing more than to pull it off of her and watch it fall. But in that moment, she felt so far away. His fingers entwined themselves between the layers of ribbon, lightly locking around the silk fabric before gently tugging the woman towards him. Ame yelped in response, fumbling slightly as her foot took a step forward. Her hands lightly bumped against Angel’s chest, hovering against his shoulders.

“You’re like a war machine. So deadly and silent, yet so effective~ I just finished up with the spare books in this room, I still have so much I need to do to get this room fully set up…”

Ame paused a moment, then, with furrowed brows, she shook her head firmly. Gently, she slammed her hands against his shoulder, letting them rest there as she spoke.

“But you’ve been working and building things all day. You deserve to have a break too! Come and take a quick nap with me… You tend to be a jackass when you're tired. Well, you're a jackass all the time, it just gets worse when you're tired.”

"Wooooooow."

Rolling his eyes in response, Angel debated shoving her away by her little silk waist. Maybe she'd trip over the box and fall. But... that would only be proving her point though. Damn. Sighing, he paused. Her pout was so... annoyingly cute. The ribbon slipped through his fingers as he lifted his hand. Lightly sliding his fingers through her hair, Angel leaned closer to the pouting girl's face. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid pout off of her stupid pretty little face.

...

Her lips felt a lot softer than he initially imagined. He was never quite aware of it until that very moment. His fingers twitched slightly, a small tug, a weak embrace. Dragging his nails along Ame's bare skin, he pulled away slightly, the air feeling so cool on their lips. Part of him craved more... he wasn't sure why.

"... na, I'm not tired! Maybe after all the technicals are set up."

"ANGEL..."

Snickering slightly, Angel's hands rested on Ame's shoulders lightly. Her face was dusted pink, although, he barely saw it. Covering her face in her sleeves, she stumbled out of the room, cursing his name the entire way out. Rubbing his hand through his hair, he chuckled again. Worth it.

...

Yawning, Angel set down the screwdriver. His eyes fluttered, his vision blurring slightly, fatigue really was a whole different kind of beast. Closing his eyes a moment, he groaned. He couldn't fall asleep, not yet. Yawning again, his fingers entwined within themselves as he moved his arms, stretching dreary limbs.

Shaking his head, Angel rubbed his face in annoyance. Building furniture sucked. Moving boxes sucked. Packing up items they had no use for sucked. Moving the boxes from the house into the car sucked. He didn't have money, he couldn't afford any treats, everything just sucked. And those boxes? Having to move them into storage all on his lonesome? Oh hoo hoooo, don't get me started, I will be here alllll day. It just... sucked.

Shifting onto his back, Angel groaned. He lay, sprawled out on the floor in a (quite pathetic) tired display of desperation. He didn't want to get up and disturb his sleeping beauty in bed, but he was truly dead tired. His fingers lingered on his lips, a small mumble escaping from his mouth. He felt... well, he didn't feel guilty persay. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed it a lot. She tasted like cherry sweets, it was such a sweet taste on his lips. Part of him craved more.

... and the other part of him felt bad.

Mumbling, he shifted onto his side. Running his hand through his hair, he grumbled. Maybe taking a nap on the floor wouldn't be so bad. He could set up his streaming set up when he woke up again. He wouldn't have to go very far, at least. Arugh... no, he couldn't do that... For starters, that'd be painful when he woke up, he'd probably be cold, his neck would certainly ache, and he didn't want to think more about it whatsoever. Groaning, he reluctantly sat up, dragging shaky nails through his hair.

Sighing, he grumbled again. Standing up shakily, he mumbled. Stumbling through the dark apartment, Angel gritted his teeth. His fingers laid on the doorway, the dim lighting from the outside room lighting up the room slightly. The light made her look so heavenly, even if she was simply swallowed up by the several colorful blankets in their shared bed. Taking a step forward, Angel yawned again. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he yawned again. The bed caved slightly underneath his weight, causing sleepy protests to slip from Ame's lips. Leaning back, he sank into the soft fabric of the bed, yawning again.

Yeah, this was definitely more comfortable than sleeping on the floor, by a mile.

His hair curled against the pillow, his fingers twitching against his bare skin. His eyes fell on Ame's sleeping figure, watching as she gently tossed and turned in her sleep, before settling on her side, her fingers lightly gripping onto his arm. Her head laid against his shoulder, her hair tied back, laid neatly behind her on the bed. She looked so peaceful in her slumber... he swore she was glistening almost.

"... it pisses me off how pretty you are sometimes."

It also pissed him off how fast he had fallen asleep afterward. Oh, she would have reveled in being right.

...

His head felt as if someone just rammed into him with a truck. His eyes fell on the slightly ajar door, the golden light peering through the cracks. Had he slept through the night, he wondered. Glancing over, Ame appeared to have gotten closer to him while he was asleep, now with her head lying against his chest, her hand resting underneath his shirt. Her fingers twitched slightly, and another set of protests slipped through sleepy lips, although he wasn't quite what it was she was protesting against.

Rubbing his head, he groaned. He still had a myriad of things he had to complete before he could even start his streaming career. But, he couldn't really do that while Ame slept on top of him... and she fell asleep before him. It must be so difficult being a pretty princess.

Let's see... he had already packed and taken all the boxes into the rented space, cleaned and dusted the area, and put up the pretty blackout curtains, as well as the special decorations they had bought to decorate the streaming space, and he built all the furniture they had bought. However... he still had to set up the computers, keyboards, and speakers, as well as try on the streaming outfits he bought and make the necessary alterations, try on all the makeup products...

But... it wouldn't kill him to rest a little longer.

---

"You got an email, Angel. It's about... rent."

.. Rent. That certainly was an issue he had to worry about, huh? Sitting down on the couch next to her, he slid his arm around her shoulder, leaning close. His eyes scanned the email, a frown creasing his face. Rent... if he couldn't get 10,000 followers, they'd be homeless.

"What are we going to do if we can't make money for rent in time..?"

His brows furrowed further, and disappointment edged in his voice. If he couldn't do it, they'd be homeless. He knew how unforgiving it was to be homeless, and to bring someone else out of it through your own efforts, only to be the reason they fall back into it? The thought made him nervous.

"I mean... I guess I could go back to living with my dad if it doesn't work out... But I'd really rather not go back to living with a man who was never around if I can help it."

Reaching out, his fingers brushed against her hair. His thumb lingered against her cheek, a look of bewilderment settling in on her face. He was homeless once himself, a long time ago. He had run away from home. His father hadn't even noticed. And he never came looking for him. There was no food in that house anyway. No food, no clean clothes, dirty dishes everywhere, rats in the walls, cut off electricity. He knew his father was doing better now, he even adopted a little orphan girl! Wow. He totally didn't feel any negative emotion towards that situation at all!

Totally.

"Aaaactually I'd rather die. Nevermind. We're gonna make rent, darling! We have to."

Leaning in, he gently and quickly pressed his lips against Ame's cheek, pinching her face with a chuckle. He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to give her a good house and a fair shot at life. He wants to be able to spoil her and shower her in gifts.

More than anything... he just wanted her to stay in his life. Even if she is just a nerd with a pretty face. Deep down, he knew it was something more. I just don't want to admit it.

"... Angel..."

Ame's fingers twitched slightly, hovering over her chest with an expression of worry. Angel never seemed to enjoy talking about his family. If anything... it always seemed to make him angry. She wondered what happened in his childhood that made him so angry.

...

Angel paused a moment, glancing down as he tilted his head. Ame's face lay lightly against his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist lightly. It was such a light and gentle hug... leaning over slightly, his fingers gently brushing against her skin, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He nuzzled her forehead with his own, a gentle smile crossing his face. He adored her, so so much.

"I'm okay. I swear."

"Are you sure..?"

"I am... and, we're going to make rent. And we're going to make a loooot of money. And we're going to live like kings and queens... because I am your favorite internet streamer."

Running his thumb along Ame's face, it briefly brushed against her lips. Lingering a moment, his mind wandered. To live like kings and queens... meant to live at the top, to be the best of the best. To eat the food they wanted to, to buy the clothes they wanted to buy, to purchase the house they wanted, to travel where their hearts desired, to love, lust, and desire as they pleased... he wondered if he was promising too much. He'd love to make her his queen... but he didn't want to overpromise, or underdeliver...

Heat flushed in his cheeks, a small grumble surfacing in his throat. His fingers froze up, twitching slightly where they lay. Oh, the things he'd do if he could just be shameless. Unfortunately, embarrassment was something that always had to hit a little too hard.

"I need to get ready for our first stream, Ame! Which means... you need to go set up things on the moderator's end!"

He was deflecting. He couldn't even look her in the eyes. While it was true they needed to set up... honestly, most of it could have waited. The embarrassment of his actions, however, would not let it.

He loved her so much that it was almost inconvenient at times.

---

They always say that love is blind. When you love someone, you don't see their faults. And, it's true. I only see stars when I look at you.

Ame had to plan the train transit from their house to the house that Angel's father and sister lived in. Of course, on paper, it wasn't that different of a task. In fact, Ame found it was much easier than she ever would have imagined. No need to switch lines, board multiple trains, or switch train stations completely. It was simply taking one train and riding with it for 2 and a half hours. She wasn't good with directions, of course, directions were always Angel's strong suit... she usually would get distracted, or even worse, lost.

She held a small notepad in her hands, a sparkly, purple glitter pen in her fingers. She peeked her head into the streaming room, her fingers lightly gripping the notepad. They had been streaming for 23 days on and off, and Ame would admit... she wasn't the best partner for this.

She couldn't do anything right. It didn't mean everything she did was wrong, however... but she wished she were more assertive, more demanding. Strong.

Angel worried her when he was stressed out. Drugs, bloodied box cutters, lashing out on stream and off stream, getting drunk... Ame felt like there was always something new he'd overdose himself on. Maybe if she were more assertive, made sure he rested and took the proper breaks, and just took better care of him... maybe he wouldn't be so unhappy behind the scenes.

"I'm 21. You seriously think I can't handle a visit to my father's house? I mean, the transit plan is sweet, but really? I can handle this."

He was always so... frustrated. Even when he was supposed to be relaxing. She didn't understand why, he always seemed so filled with vitriol and disdain. Not hatred, he loved too much to be filled with hatred. But something different, something more than Ame knew how to help. Her eyes fell on the small piece of colorful, stamp-like pieces pinned between his fingers. She grimaced.

"Is that... what was it called again? That really strong hallucinogen that you put on your tongue."

"... It's called Magic Paper. And, yeah, it is."

"I think that's proof enough that you can't handle a visit to your father's house tomorrow. I mean, I know you don't have a good relationship with him and I won't pry into why, but you're literally getting high the night before!"

Grimacing, Ame gripped the notebook tighter. She didn't enjoy lecturing him like this, and she certainly had no right. And she didn't have enough of a backbone to force him to stop. It all scared her, truly. Every last one of them, the alcohol, the box cutter, the lashing out... they helped but they never could solve the core of the issue. But the drugs were always the worst.

Her fingers twitched again. She just wanted him to be okay. But she didn't know how. There are a million different coping mechanisms out there, and she couldn't fight against any of them when it really mattered. He lifted his fingers, gently brushing them against her lips. She pulled away slightly, they tasted faintly bitter. Raising her hand, she gently pushed his hand down.

"Live a little, Ame."

His eyes widened, a small pout forming on his face. He held out his hand, his thumb gently shifting against the slick fabric of the magic paper. She took a step back instinctively, her eyes glued to the outstretched magic paper in front of her.

"You shouldn't knock it until you try it~! You're always so righteous and acting like such a goody two shoes. Don't you get stressed out too? Why are my ways of de-stressing sooo wrong?"

Standing up, he cocked his head to the side a bit, staring at Ame. Wide-eyed, unblinking. He took a slow step forward, closer to her. It didn't matter how far she backed up, he only ever kept getting closer.

"A-Angel-"

"Do you think lesser of me when I'm like this? I don't get it. I love you. I want to treat you like a princess and get you everything your little nerdy heart could ever want because I looove you."

"Angel, stop-"

The magic paper brushed her lips, Angel's fingers gently bumping against Ame's chin. Ame's hands trembled, her back pressed against the wall, tears welling up in her eyes. He was unbearable when he was stressed. She wanted him to stop, but he was more stubborn that she was capable. She could not help him. She couldn't even help herself.

"Please? Just ooone time? I'll never ask again. I promise."

His fingers hovered at the edge of her lips, the magic paper resting just above her. Drugs were bad, he clearly had an addiction, and he was going to overdose on them. She knew he was. But she wouldn't be able to stop him. She couldn't stop him from taking them. She couldn't even stop him from offering it to her now.

"... okay okay... just... one time, okay?"

"Mhm..."

His eyes were lidded, and a droopy smile formed on his face. He... wasn't sober when she got to him, was he?

"Oookay ♥︎ !! I love you. I looove you. I love you!"

Pushing on the edge of the magic paper, Ame grimaced. The paper felt odd on her tongue, a tingling sensation taking over her tongue and then, her whole body. It burned.

"..!"

Her vision blurred slightly, her knees buckling slightly. Colorful spots danced in her vision, a slight ringing fading into her ears. Her tongue burned slightly, her limbs weakening even further. A gasp escaped from her lips, a hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her close to his chest. Angel giggled slightly, his nails dragging along the bare skin of Ame's back, earning soft whines from her. His forehead gently bumped against hers, peppering soft kisses along her lips.

She could see something in her vision, a train station? A train station in a nowhere city. There was talking in the distance, but she could gleam anything being said. It sounded something like clicking and snapping, and ticking... and the train. It didn't make annny sound as it passed. She could feel the wind as it passed, but it passed so silently, she wondered if she had gone deaf.

There was a man in front of her, with white and brown hair, and the prettiest set of blue and pink eyes she had ever seen. There was something oddly familiar about him... Ame didn't know what. He stood at the edge of the waiting area for the train bordering. She looked around. She couldn't make out any faces besides his.

Fishes swam past her. They were giant, glowing pink fish... they reminded her of... what were they called again? Goldfish? Goldfish... She yelped slightly as one of these giant, glowing beasts swam behind her, gently nudging her forward. She fumbled forward, gripping onto her shirt shakily. He held out his hand with a familiar cheeky smile.

She felt so misplaced.

His fingers tugged her closer, a stumble backward here and a fumble backward there. The bed felt so soft underneath their bodies, it almost felt like floating on a cloud. His fingers ran against her bare skin, a deep hum emerging from his throat. His fingers gently entwined with hers, gently gripping onto her tightly.

"I looove looove you. I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much ♥︎"

...

His head throbbed, his vision blurred. Hearts danced in the edges of his visions, and his shoulders ached. His whole body ached, actually... He felt so cold. He didn't completely know where he was. He was at home... he remembered being in their shared room, stressing out over... something... there was magic paper involved... Maybe he should cut down on the magic paper.

Looking down, his vision blurred slightly. Blurs of purple filled the edges of his vision. Purple... rubbing his eyes, he groaned. The spots in his vision didn't want to go away. Blinking slowly, he groaned again, rubbing his eyes aggressively. Maybe he could really cut down on the magic paper.

His fingers twitched, his fingers laying gently against her bare skin. Purple blur... something warm in his arms... Ame? ... huh. Burying his face in her shoulder, he grumbled. Definitely cut out the magic paper, Angel.

They both had to get up... soonish. In order to board the train and visit... his father and his new daughter. That was right... fuck.

Reaching over, his fingers tapped against the screen of his phone, he groaned. It was 4am. Still, a decent amount of time before they'd have to go out, but... he didn't know if he wanted to keep going. Of course, he promised that he would go. He'd be an asshole if he didn't, and even he had standards.

His hair curled against the pillow, mumbling softly. Closing his eyes gently, he whined softly. Everything hurt. Everything ached. He loved her, he loved her, he looooooved her so much it felt unbearable. His fingers twitched again, pulling Ame's sleeping form closer to his chest. He owed her so many apologies.

...

When he opened his eyes again, it was a little later in the morning... 10am. And, he was feeling... a little better. But, still... he wasn't feeling 100 percent.

Angel groaned as he sat up in the bed, running his hand through his hair with a yawn. Ame had run off into the bathroom to take a shower and get changed. The sound of the shower running trickled softly against his ears, it sounded nice. His eyes fluttered in unison in response to the sound, he really could fall asleep just listening to it...

"Angel?"

Feeling a hand gently against his shoulder, Angel groaned. His body slumped back in response, sinking into the soft mattress. Ame paused, sighing as she leaned over. Placing her hands on his arms, Ame attempted to pull him up from the bed. However, Ame was not that strong.

"Angel, you have to get ready."

"Five more minutes..."

"I've been trying to get you up for the past five minutes!"

He felt a little bad... but, not really. It was kind of entertaining, watching her work for it. But alas... he did have to get dressed so they could travel.

Groaning, Angel sat up, rubbing his hand through his hair. Gently, reaching over, his hands cupped around Ame's face. Her face felt so soft and warm in his hands...

"Fine. I'm gonna go... take a shoooower."

And hopefully not fall over and split his head open in the process. But, if he did... he wouldn't have to visit his father. But, he wouldn't be able to stream either, so they wouldn't be making any money either... damn.

Struggling to get off the bed, Angel stumbled slightly. The high had almost completely worn off by now, but he still felt a littttle tipped off. Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he grumbled, yawning again. His fingers ran along the cold metallic lever for the shower, lightly pushing it to the side. The shower started up with an almost hypnotic whirl, the falling water sounding like heaven to his ears. He reached out, feeling the water against his hands. It felt nice and warm, perfect for a nice morning shower.

...

The shower was definitely nice... and well-needed. Running through his hair with a towel, Angel hummed. Leaning over his dresser, he rummaged through his clothes, his eyes falling on a light blue short-sleeved button-up shirt and a dull blue pair of high-waisted pants. This... this would be a cute but simple outfit. Opening another drawer, he fished out a soft white, high-collar with a nice black bow, and a pair of clip-on suspenders, as well as a nice pair of white socks. Then, tapping his fingers on his lips, he hummed. Accessories... running his fingers lightly along the jewelry lazy Susan. His eyes fell on a pair of cloud-shaped sunglasses and a silver wristwatch. Those... those would look nice with everything...

Humming as he buttoned up his shirt, smoothing down the crinkles. Stretching with a yawn, Angel grumbled. Okay... it was now or never. He just needs to get through the day and he'll be fine... probably. Ame stood at the doorway, holding a small purse in her arms, as well as a rolled-up map.

...

The last time they rode a train together like this was the night they met one another for the very first time. Leaning back as he settled down in his seat, he tilted his head slightly. The train felt rather empty for a train going to a popular, well-known city. A city that homed some of the most powerful sorcerers in the entire world. Not that he was complaining... he loved the fact he and Ame were able to snag a seat, especially for a train ride as long as this one.

You probably wonder what I meant by that. Home of the world's most powerful sorcerers... Well, this train is headed to the heart of Tokyo, and we lived in a dead town 2 and a half hours away from it. I grew up here, actually. Glancing out of the window, Angel frowned. He hadn't come back to Tokyo in years... he couldn't afford to live there on his own, of course. And the curses that lived in the city made it dangerous for a normal person like him. Especially when every curse in that stupid city wanted him dead. But, he left. He left and he never looked back.

Until today, that was. Pulling out a small, hand-held tablet, Angel sat up. It was just a small tablet he used for stream planning, but, he figured it would make a good companion on the go. Doodling on the notes app for that one stream he did a few nights back turned out to be more fun than he initially thought. Leaning to the side, Angel pondered. Drawing... he wondered what there was he could draw. His eyes wandered slightly to the girl sitting next to him, so intently trained on the book she had brought for the long trip. She looked so pretty sitting there... so nerdy and blissfully unaware.

She had tried on a different outfit today, one different from her usual white t-shirt and purple coat and pants. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and the purple sweater vest she wore on top of a white collared shirt looked so pretty on her, he swore it was glistening in the passing sunlight. And the dark pants she wore, matched it very well. Purple had always been such a pretty color on her...

... he doesn't quite know where the time went. He hadn't been doodling her that long, he believed. Maybe just for a few minutes... but there they were, at the end of their line.

"Ame, we're here."

It took a moment of tapping and leading her off the train, but, they were off, and deep in the heart of Tokyo city... he despised no place more. Pulling out his phone, he looked up the address from the messages between him and this girl. Her name was Myriad. Interesting name, he thought to himself.

It was a decent walk from the train station, fifteen minutes or so... he nodded affirmatively. It was a simple and straightforward route with a few twists and a few turns the closer they got, but... he could do it. (Maybe he could feign getting lost on the way, but, Ame might call him out for it. Maybe it'd be for the best he didn't dillydally.)

"So, your dad lives here? It's a nice little neighborhood."

"Apparently."

Glancing around, he felt... nervous. He felt like he was going to be sick. Did this really have to be a canon event? Really? Seriously? There were several kids in the neighborhood, playing on their lawns, teenagers doing dances in the streets, grownups playing basketball on the court...

Slowly, they came to a stop in front of a well-maintained rather large two-story house. There were decorations on the lawn, a nice set of flora all over the lawn, a cute stepping stone path... a wooden porch, a wooden rocking chair... and an older, white-haired blue-eyed man sitting in it.

"... Oh. Apparently, he really does live here."

"... he really does look like you. Like... to a t."

Ame looked back and forth between Angel and the man in the chair. They both had the same white hair and blue eyes, fair skin... they were even both wearing sunglasses. It was uncanny for a son who hadn't seen his father in nearly 6 years.

"Angel! You're actually here!"

The voice was unfamiliar to his ears... and so was the face. A young girl skipped out of the open front door, holding an ice cream cone in her hand. The girl was short, with long brownish-red hair, and pinkish eyes, wearing a nice yellow sundress and a beige sunhat.

"You're... Myriad, right? And... dad. Uh... hi?"

"... is Angel what you go by now?"

"Uh, yeah. It is."

Skipping down the stairs, Myriad nodded with a smile. She giggled, holding out her hand towards Angel. Angel paused, then, taking her hand, he smiled back.

"I'm Myriad! It's nice to meet you."

"... Yeah. Likewise."

...

He never grew up with siblings... or a present parent for that matter. And he didn't have friends either... sometimes it was painful to remember that fact. But... not as painful as the fact his father somehow burnt their dinner, and they had to go out to a sushi restaurant instead.

"Seriously, how do you burn water, Dad?"

"Hey hey. Not too much on me."

Reaching over, Angel picked up a piece of sushi from the conveyor belt, gently pinching it between his chopsticks, an unimpressed expression on his face. Taking the sushi, he turned slightly towards Ame, holding it out towards her.

"This one is a California roll. Not sure why they call it that."

"Was it made in California?"

Laughter erupted from his throat, and his hands shook, nearly dropping the sushi roll. He couldn't help himself. There was something so sweet and endearing about her, even as she asked stupid questions. There's something so... intoxicating about her. He couldn't exactly put his fingers on what it was, however.

---

They always say that love is blind. When you love someone, you don't see their faults. You're lost in the clouds high above any reach of common sense, a high so powerful it is unmatched by any drug. True, unadulterated bliss.

His fingers were shaking a little bit as he held a small bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, wrapped in a pretty glistening blue bow. She had worked so many miracles in his life, brought him back to a place he never thought he could, she'd helped him grow more as a person than he ever could alone.

Sunflowers always face towards the sun, bright and warm. They were a pretty flower, simple and pure. And, they were Ame's favorite flower. He didn't know how to take care of sunflowers. He spent a lot of time googling it, looking it up, he even asked the woman from the flower shop how to care for them.

When they were successful and rich, Angel wanted to buy a decent-sized house with a beautiful front lawn. He wanted to line that lawn with sunflowers and watch them grow. He wanted to put up little picket fences and create a stone walkway. Ame loved the look of it in all those magazines she strung up on her office wall... And he loved how angelic she looked when she was happy.

But, this would have to do for now... sunflowers are still sunflowers, right?

Stepping through the door to their apartment, Angel looked around. The apartment was littered with the wrappings of the many gifts he had bought for her over the months they had been streaming together. Small gifts, like a new mini bookshelf for her books, or a puzzle she had been eyeing... chocolates, sweets, foods... anything she wanted she got and more.

His feet clicked against the floor, a soft thud as he traveled through the small apartment, stopping in front of the bedroom door. Hesitating in front of the door, Angel listened quietly, before raising his hand and knocking gently on the door.

"Ame? Can I come in?"

There was a moment of silence for a long while, and quietly, Angel pushed down on the doorknob. He carefully pushed the door open with his arm, sticking his head inside the room. His eyes scanned the room before eventually falling on the sleeping figure in the bed. Well... that explains why she didn't answer the door.

Taking a step into the room, Angel paused. His eyes fell on the sunflowers on his arms. Then, chuckling, he made his way over to the bedside drawer, placing the flowers on the dresser's surface. She could have them as a surprise when she woke up.

His fingers twitched as he reached over, gently brushing against her bangs as he leaned over. She really was so pretty, no matter what she was doing... planting a kiss against her forehead, he smiled softly.

"I love you."

Ground control to psychoeletric angel, do you copy?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ENDING ? - GROUND CONTROL TO PSYCHOELECTRIC ANGEL ♥︎

>> Try Again? > Yes!! > No!!

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Homestuck/Hiveswap

Character: Nepeta Leijon

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Type of fic: short story

Other info: Would be nice if it was holiday themed :33 You pick the theme

Hope you enjoy! I really love Nepeta, lol. AU where Nepeta is alive on Earth C. Darling is human. Used a Homestuck quirk generator so her lines may be off (I had to edit them a bit so they could be understood)

Snowy Day

Yandere! Nepeta Leijon Short - Winter Event Request

Pairing: Matesprit❤️/Moirail♦️

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Some minor culture shock, Restraints, Implied isolation, Dubious on if you are kidnapped or not, Forced cuddling, Forced relationship in some way.

Cold white flakes drift towards the ground, a substance Nepeta has never seen before. Alternia, her old home, never got this cold. The new experience had her staring at the white surface of Earth C with eager eyes.

According to her friends this time of year was special for human culture. The olive blood feels excited as she keeps her eyes on the snow outside. Oh… it looks like it'd be so fun to pounce!

Nepeta has heard many things about this time of year. In the cold it “snows” and you can play in it. Humans often bake desserts, give gifts, and all sorts of things. However… Nepeta found one thing very appealing.

Spending time with loved ones.

Nepeta felt if anything this was the purrfect way to bond with her human. Yes… her human! You two already share a house together on Earth C! Yet… you seem so cold recently, like the snow littering the ground.

No matter because Nepeta has plans to change that!

Nepeta pries her gaze from the window to face the couch. A roaring fire crackles at the fireplace to keep the room warm. It feels nice on the skin.

On the couch sits you, "Nepeta's human". You sit with your hands and legs tied, it's a set of ropes keeping you on the couch. Nepeta can't help but grin at you, even if you look at her with fear and betrayal.

“:33 < don't you f33l better!? this time of year is best spent with people you love, right?” Nepeta purrs as she runs over to sit on the couch. You don't make an effort to move as she slips a blanket over the two of you.

Nepeta is so happy she met you! On Alternia she was rather lonely in her cave except for Equius and her unrequited feelings for Karkat. Well… now she has you!

Moirail… Matesprit… She doesn't care. She's just happy she has someone like you. Especially when she wants to cuddle someone while the snow falls!

“:33 < there's no n33d to be so scared! we love each other, don't we?” Nepeta grins, pulling you closer and nuzzling. “:33 < we'll k33p each other warm... i'm so glad we're together!”

Together… but not really by choice on your end. You try to ignore the feline troll snuggling into you and stare at the fire. This winter could be beautiful and nostalgic… if you weren't in this situation.

You hear the troll yawn next to you as she curls up against you. You lean away a bit to lay down but Nepeta just follows you closely. Her grip is like that of iron and you swear she's actually purring.

Nepeta tiredly watches the snow outside as the fire crackles away. She feels so warm against you, it's putting her to sleep. Feeling content and happy… the olive blood closes her eyes and falls asleep on top of you.

You feel the troll sleeping on top of you and try to pull at your restraints. Sadly she knew to put them on tightly with many intricate knots. Nepeta has caught you like you're her prey and you're at her mercy.

All you can do is watch the snow and fire… praying Nepeta decides to let you go outside tomorrow.

Or at the very least… out of the restraints.

[chewyjellycable]

[Cappu-or-Treat - CW: None]

"Trick-or-treat!" Rang the excited crowd outside of the prosecutor's door.

The sound of cheerful kids and adults out and about nearly made Cappuccino slam his head into the wall next to him. This was one of his only vacation days, yet he was spending it handing out cheap candy to people in shoddy costumes bought at the last minute. Heading to the door of his rental home, he'd grab the bowl he left on a small stand- accidentally knocking over a couple of empty cappuccino cups- and open the door.

Immediately, he was met with shrill cheers from a crowd of kids that made his head hurt worse than staying up this late already did. "Yea, yea- take your candy guys!" Though bitter, he'd still try to at least force a playful form of disdain, even if it was laced with too much of the real thing. "Happy Halloween, guys! Stay out of trouble, or I'll prosecute you personally!" This fact was only half-true. At this point, Cappu feels like he could sue for emotional distress against this entire holiday. Ugh… he does not want to think about all the hoops he'd have to jump through to sue a recognized holiday.

Closing the door behind him, Cappuccino wouldn't even make it halfway across the room before getting another knock at his door. It took nearly all the strength the prosecutor had in him not to just keep walking and ignore the knocking. Though, if he did, there would just be more knocks and more annoyances. And if the parents were stupid enough, Cappu himself would be taken to court for 'unfair treatment' in handing out candy. People these days will cause legal trouble for any reason imaginable. Turning back around and opening the door with a forced smile, the people on the other side of the door would strike fear into Cappuccino. A nearly perfect trio of costumes- a highly customized card set. Queen of hearts, king of clubs, ace of spades…

Langue de Chat… being the Ace with a Jack of Diamonds in their headpiece... with their parents. "Trick-or-treat!" The three of them would chime together. "Oh, right, uh-" Cappuccino reached over and grabbed the bowl he forgot he left back where it usually was. He was absolutely not presentable. Hair greasy and knotted, attire a far cry from what he'd wear in court. Hell, he wasn't even in costume! For someone who didn't really care much about this holiday, being presented like this in front of people so important made him entirely conscious of his lack of Halloween appeal.

And yet here Langue was, probably in a costume made by their family to match the three of them. They probably got to pick the theme and materials and everything… Slept so well at night knowing how well the costume would turn out. They likely even got to pick the best area to go trick-or-treating in, getting as much candy as-… Wait. Cappuccino would wind up staring Langue in the eyes as he handed out candy. "You know this is one of the worst places to go trick-or-treating at, right…? Most people around here can barely pay their rent." Unknowingly, he handed out a second piece to Langue… or was that on purpose?

"I know that! You think I didn't research into what places gave out the most candy before we came out here?" Langue would laugh, embarrassing the prosecutor more than his appearance being seen by their parents did. "I chose to come out here to see you. Once we're done trick-or-treating, I was hoping to spend some time with you…" Even while he looks like this? "I know it's sudden, and I had to beg my parents to let me stay so late, but… it's Halloween! I'm staying up late anyways, so may as well make the most of it, huh?" May as well… ha. This defense attorney doesn't know the meaning of 'staying up late' if they seem so happy about it. Even so, with a wobbly smile, the sleep-deprived mess would wind up agreeing.

"I'll clean my place up for you. I mean, it's-" Cappu glanced between the parents that stood behind Langue- "It's already fairly clean, I just need to put away some documents and do a little dusting! I'll, uh. I'll see you later, right?" "Yes! It should be in… about two hours? Trick-or-treating for this area only lasts three hours." That long? Cappuccino didn't want to deal with kids for two whole hours… But if he was to be rewarded with time with Langue de Chat of all people, how could he refuse a challenge like that? Maybe he'll be able to scrounge together a costume in that amount of time, too. "Oh, right, I also need to give you this." The prosecutor perked up, watching as Langue ever so delicately plucked the jack of diamonds from out of their hair and handed it over to him. "We were planning on having one of my cousins trick-or-treat with us, but they got too busy, so… Tomorrow, if you'd like, you can come with us to the other place we plan on going for candy collection. We'll have your costume set up and everything." "Oh! I- sure!" Cappuccino would flush at the offer, taking the card in hand and failing to hide how flattered he was at the offer. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool prosecutor demeanor to prevent himself from looking more like an embarrassment in front of the guardians in front of him. It was already too late, but he could at least try to clean up some of the mess. "We can discuss this more once you're done trick-or-treating. I don't want to hold you guys up for too long."

It was surprisingly easy to get the three to move along with that sentiment. The prosecutor would sigh and turn back, closing the door and looking to the card in his hand. Should he laminate this? This felt much more special than he was making it out to be, but… Having not celebrated Halloween for years, and finally being able to with someone so important to him… No, yeah, this is going in lamination. A little 'thunk' was enough to snap the prosecutor from his thoughts. Another cappuccino cup had fallen from somewhere. It was at this moment that Cappu realized that he REALLY needed to clean the place up. He needed to clean himself up, too. As much of a chore as it would be… this place should at least look livable for visitors. Especially if that visitor is Langue de Chat. Well… Cappuccino took a deep breath, setting the candy bowl down and turning off the porch light. Time to get to a different kind of work.

[sotcwcrp]

SECRETS OF THE CLANS, JANUARY OPENING!

In celebration of our January 14th - January 28th opening, we're going to be highlighting each of the clans, to give you a better idea of what they're like / how different they are from the books!

Today's clan is...

Windclan

ART CREDITS: carnationcarnivore on discord!

Among the gorse and heather, you see a dip in the earth, shaped almost as if some starry paw had carved it out of the moor. A great rock stands in its midst, and the figure atop it beckons you forward, into the skies and earth and the warmth of a Clan. Will you follow?

Tread well, traveler; you could very well find your family — your true home — with the breeze-blown cats of the moor.

To be your eyes into Windclan Territory, Shrimpskip a Windclan monarch is here to interview some of his clanmates! Take it away Shrimpskip!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Tell me a bit about WindClan territory!"

“Its big!! And so open, or closed depending where you go- you can see the fields of heather or even some nice ponds. And the tunnels are crazyyyy, there’s so many twists and almost identical places it’s sometimes hard to differentiate. I love that I can always see the stars the most about it though!” - Bluebelldancer

WindClan’s territory is spacious and expansive, not only aboveground, but below it. On the surface, the moors are covered in heather, gorse, and more plants than any one cat could ever expect to learn. The sky overhead is wide and, on finer days, makes it feel as if you could run across the territory and never find its end; at night, the stars shine down bright and close enough to brush against your whiskers. Below ground exists another world, carefully carved out and maintained by the Clan’s tunnelers. These tunnels weave below the surface, opening up into caverns and hideaways and cave systems speckled with the shining light of glowworms. 

Whether your paws take you across the moors or into the tunnels, WindClan’s territory is full of beauty and wonder—and a testament to the strength of a Clan that thrives among the elements.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“What's your favorite spot in WindClan territory? Could you tell me a bit about why?”

“I am partial to the moors, for my heart has chosen the path of a moor runner. However, the glowing trail was where I first found myself with the opportunity of finding a new home and meeting my family. It is a place where the stars never cease to shine. A place of dreams and hopes. It is a cavern with a slow stream singing day and night lit up by the glowing blue stars on the ceiling. Of course I will also add a second favorite place, the hillside watch. A place just beyond the borders of our camp, where heather covers the grounds with a purple tint, and where the wind sings melodies as you watch the stars from the high point before it starts sloping down. Truly a place to gaze at the stars, have a chat with another, or wonder about all the questions that have yet to be solved in your mind.” - Stormweaver

Split between the wide open moorlands and the otherworldly views of the tunnels, Windclan has plenty of interesting views for one to witness. Moor runners and tunnelers often have differing opinions on what they believe to be the best view across all of Windclan, but one thing remains consistent: their love for the territory they call home.

What a variety to pick from, after all. Some spots hold a history of powerful triumph over dark times, such as the deep meadow and echoing cavern. Others whisper of times when twolegs were settled just an arch’s crossing nearby, or even dug underneath the earth just as the tunnelers do. Do you enjoy sheep-watching? Sitting atop Outlook Rock at night to watch Silverpelt gleam overhead? Taking a dip in the underground lake? Even the simple comforts of camp can appeal more than what lies outside of it, from the gentle twinkle of the bells which hang from the grand tree on the camp’s outskirts to the milkscent of the kit den. Windclan is home to many, and the unique ways each Windclanners connects to their home is a thing to take pride in.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“What's a favorite memory you have that's taken place on WindClan territory?”

"Well y'know about the magpie fight right? Oh, it was awesome! I decked so many of those birds! My friend Fireflycry was there with me too, that day we were unstoppable. Ha! Those birds will never be coming back, I'll be sure of it!" - Auburnridge

Windclan has had a running rivalry with the local magpie population for going on three years irp! It started from Goosepaw [Now goosefang] being chased into camp by an irate bird. Now was the years have passed the fighting has become more and more intense; until recently an entire flock of magpies descended upon Windclan’s territory and camp! The fighting was intense, but in the end Windclan defeated the legion of birds and sent them packing for another year. If history is to be considered, next newleaf or greenleaf we shall see a return of those pesky birds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“What's one thing you'd like others to know about WindClan's culture?”

“We have the funnest holidays! The Day of Many Breezes is super cool, we all play games and hang out. We're also always collaborating - I've trained with so many different warriors and it's great to interact with everyone!” - Crabpaw

WindClan's culture is a familial, welcoming one. Many a cat has wandered into the moors and chosen to remain, appreciative of the Clan's hospitality and willingness to care for strangers as if they were one of their own. Outsiders are an important part of the Clan, for it has been Windclan’s willingness to take in strangers and welcome them into its ways that has kept the Clan so open and determined to do right by one another, no matter the differences between them. The openness of the moor and tightness of the tunnels make the close bonds between Clanmates ever more important—who, if not a Clanmate, will literally dig you out of a problem when one occurs? Many a tunneler and moor runner can attest that when something goes wrong, it’s a group effort to fix it. Besides, there are few things better than being welcomed into a "cuddle puddle" of your family, friends, and Clanmates at the end of a long day, when all you want is a warm place to rest your paws. 

WindClan's determination is notable, too! Without the shelter of the trees, WindClan cats have learned to persist even in the worst weather conditions, proud of their enviable proximity to the stars each night. And underground, where the territory is littered with rabbit warrens and badger dens, WindClan learned to make use of these features to provide for the Clan and keep it safe and secure, even in the most dire of circumstances. Adaptability and determination have kept Windclan alive through tough times, but what’s just as important is their refusal to back down from helping each other through it.

Where Windclan is weathered and strong-standing, they are also artists. Song and dance are common ways to show deep love, appreciation, or merely something to brighten one’s day. Tunnelers have perfected the art of communicating with song alone, so it isn’t uncommon to hear melodies echoing far underground. Flowers, rocks gathered from deep underground, and even the more recent addition of magpie feathers can be spotted adorning a Clanmate’s pelt, jewelry woven together from pieces of heather or long blades of grass. 

Another such art that Windclan holds dear to them is storytelling. Given how frequently wanderers come in and out of Windclan, exchanging tales and legends have become a useful passtime for Clanmates to bond through, learn more about each other, and pass on their ways of life by coming together. Stories from those who once resided beyond the Clan, stories from those who have lived their whole life within it, stories to keep kits and wide-eyed apprentices awake at night. All can be found within Windclan, if you know who to ask and where to look. Perhaps you can share tongues with the elders, or perk your ears up at a Clanmate’s tale of monsters who once roared across the thunderpath when you pass them by. With a Clan that is so tightly-knit, word travels fast. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“What's your opinion on your council?”

“We have been a cohesive and effective team at leading WindClan through the struggles of life. I wonder, were you expecting to find gossip? You will hear nothing but kind words regarding my fellow healers from me; Beetlenose is our collective mentor, knowledgeable and staunch in her values, the others were all mentored by us, and I shall spare you the time to hear about all five, only that they are all kind and proficient healers I am proud to have taught. As for our leader and deputy, Whisperstar cares greatly for all our clanmates... though the moons have weathered his soul, he keeps up with his duties. Shrikestorm is our deputy, though he will be retiring soon. I thank him for all he has done, he has been a reliable and steadfast presence in our council.” - Morningwatcher

WindClan’s council, for all its shifting in size, has carried its Clan through many downfalls and upswings in the passing seasons. Whisperstar sits at the helm of the Clan, having served as leader ever since he was led to the Clan on a many-moon journey by StarClan itself. Don’t let his scarred surface fool you—there’s a reason many cats see Whisperstar as an additional grandparent, and it isn’t just because he’s rather old. Deputy Shrikestorm, though close to retiring, has used his expertise and wisdom to keep WindClan safe and fed ever since his appointment, moons ago. Whoever steps into his place will no doubt have a worthy legacy to uphold in his place. 

The healers, too, have seen WindClan through great strife and great triumph, ensuring the safety of their Clanmates through sickness, wars, and the daily incidents of life on the moors and underground. Their communication with ancestors and those that have departed is essential, even if Windclan’s opinion on the power of Starclan has grown weary over the past few moons. That the entire Council holds great love and appreciation for their Clan is clear—yes, even when the healers are delivering long lectures to unwilling warriors.

[house-afire]

Old Chums (Stede/Nigel)

Prompt: 100 words of "we're not gay, we're sailors"

Nigel had seldom been so pleased to see someone. The long journey to the Caribbean had looked to be intolerably boring—this downright crawl across the ocean was not how he’d hoped to celebrate leaving school. But Father had insisted on seeing what England had made of him before he wrapped himself in its colors for good, so here he was, in the middle of blasted nowhere. Milling about at sea in his private life before he’d be strongarmed into doing it all his life. And there was very little chance of fun on this stodgy ship—

Or so he’d thought, until he’d seen Stede.

“Little Baby Bonnet, all grown up!” Nigel said, clasping him by the shoulders. “I honestly never thought about you existing outside of our dear old school.”

“Was it dear?” Stede said, squirming under his hands, soft and shaky as a pudding, bless him. “Can’t say I’ve given it any thought either, since I left. I finished up—”

“Oh, were you in England too? I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other before now.” Nigel patted himself on the chest. “I was at Eton.”

“Harrow,” Stede said, with another of those appealing wriggles. This time it slipped him out from under Nigel’s hand—clever little fish.

Nigel decided to be magnanimous. “Well, that’s nearly as good. You’re headed home, then?”

Stede nodded. He looked a bit miserable about it, poor fellow. But then Stede just tended to look like that, didn’t he? Like a little stomped-on rose, all crumpled and red-faced and dew-damped, their dear Baby Bonnet. Nigel had decided early on that he couldn’t possibly be as unhappy as he looked, because only an absolute spoilsport would properly sulk through all their romps and fun.

Actually, aside from the rather pathetic cast of his features, Stede looked … good. He had quite unexpectedly acquired some definition about his jaw and shoulders, and his mouth had shed some of its poutiness. The wind ruffled that Goldilocks hair of his.

Nigel was vaguely aware that one didn’t technically consider such things, not when it came to a friendly handy—it was obviously very far afield from, say, choosing a wife. You just wanted a chum. Had nothing to do with proper intercourse. More like how you couldn’t tickle yourself. It was just useful to have somebody else involved.

He was probably only thinking of Stede that way because Baby Bonnet had always been a bit of a girl. They’d forced him into one of the matron’s dresses once and told him he looked almost pretty. So there you were, Nigel thought, relieved. They had all said that much.

“Let’s go see the stores,” Nigel said, putting an arm around Stede’s shoulders and steering him belowdecks.

Stede stumbled as he followed along. “And, ah, why should we want to do that?”

“Like the games shed, you know. Lots of clutter to duck behind.”

“Duck behind for what?”

Oh, playing hard to get, was he? If he thought Nigel was going to turn foolish over him, like one of those soppy, soft-handed boys who used to turn half their tuck over to the cricket captain and moon all about him, he would be sorely disappointed.

Then again, it was a long voyage. If he absolutely had to give Stede a fruit tart and a silly compliment about his lovely hair to make him behave like a proper pal, he could probably be talked into it. It would be entirely understandable if Nigel chose to indulge him like that, just to make it all go over without any fuss.

Only a real problem if you did it on land, when there were plenty of women to be had. Then you were just a deviant. At sea, one simply made compromises because one was healthy and red-blooded.

“Ah, here we are,” Nigel announced. He swung the door open and had a look around for any sailors already making use of the place. None at all. What a lucky day it was turning out to be.

Stede let Nigel drag him in and close the door behind them, but he still had an endearingly baffled look on his face. Maybe he truly didn’t know. God, he really was a babe in the woods, wasn’t he? Nigel decided to clarify things by pushing Stede back against the door and doing his best to get Stede’s breeches off him.

“Mmf!” Stede protested against Nigel’s mouth, which had wound up overlapping a bit with his.

“Oh, come on, Stede,” Nigel said, pulling back because one didn’t kiss during this sort of thing. They were both gentlemen. “There’s nothing else to do on this unbelievably dull boat. And anything goes when one’s at sea, you know that.”

“I do?” Stede’s voice trembled like a maiden’s, but—in a move that made something inside Nigel flash bright, like the sun had hit upon it—he tugged his own breeches and drawers down and thrust forward into Nigel’s hand.

His cock was rosy and far more sizable than Nigel would ever have guessed. He wondered what it would be like—

No, he didn’t. He put that aside firmly. He was going to be an officer in His Majesty’s Navy, yes, but he was not going to be a sailor in that sense. He would get accustomed to whatever was convenient, but he was still going to have some decorum.

“Obviously,” Nigel said, stroking Stede’s prick and feeling it twitch in his hand. “We wouldn’t be doing this on land. Not unless you wanted to dress up like a girl again and pass yourself off as my wife.” He mashed their bodies close together, his burning cheek against Stede’s temple.

“I didn’t even—” Stede’s breath hitched. “I didn’t even want to dress up as a girl the first time!”

“Oh, it was all good fun. I did it for that panto, remember?”

It was foolish of Stede to pretend that the stage, or lack thereof, made that much of a difference. So what if he’d been shoved into that frock in the dark, by more than one set of hands? They’d all been high-spirited, and Stede had squeaked so marvelously back then that he’d made for wonderful entertainment. And Nigel remembered perfectly how Stede had blushed when they’d all told him he was pretty, and how well he’d curtseyed when they’d finally talked him into it.

He had thought of it a lot over the last few years, really.

“Be a good chap,” Nigel said into Stede’s ear, “and shoot off in a hurry. I’m more than ready for my turn.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t surprise people if you want them to be ready,” Stede said, with a very Stede-ish blend of querulousness and heat, as if Nigel could possibly be cowed by him. He honestly was very fond of Stede. Always had been. He suspected Stede was fond of him as well—Stede had always watched him, back at school, as if Nigel’s every move had needed to be charted.

Then again, he had watched all their circle of school chums that way. Little harlot.

But all those fellows were far away, and even if they’d been aboard, Nigel wouldn’t have minded sharing Stede with them. An Eton man was generous. Anyway, he was sure they’d understand that Stede would always prefer him.

“I think this trip is going to turn out to be quite bearable in the end,” Nigel said, pleased.

Stede threw his head back until his skull cracked against the door, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as his hips juddered in helpless little spasms.

Not on land, Nigel reminded himself, even as he further reminded himself that obviously he needed no reminding. Pretty as Baby Bonnet is, there will be prettier women, of course.

But would any of them be wrung out like this, shaking, their spend slicking Nigel’s hand? Would any of them ever be so gloriously flushed, so sweet and so petulant? Would they tug at his cock with this look of utmost concentration, like they were trying to understand some sophisticated machinery? Yes, of course they would. Of course they would have to be all those things and better, and whatever they were not, he wouldn’t want. This was a matter of opportunity. He was clear on that.

And if he closed his eyes and imagined Stede in a turquoise silk gown, approved as Mrs. Badminton by popular delusion, well—it was only because he had no proper girl in mind. And might not for some time.

Very abruptly, he felt a sudden, awful gratitude at being pushed into the Navy. What a lot of long voyages there would be, so unavoidably.

“It’s so good,” Nigel said afterwards, panting into Stede’s almond-scented hair, “to have friends. Old friends. Isn’t it?”

“I suppose it must be,” Stede said.

[died-n-came-back]

Now, kinda long ramble about DA:TV

Listen, i know this game is def not a GOTY, and i know i may be biased bc I'm such a Dragon Age nerd that I'll consume basically anything they throw at me, but after hours of playing i can safely say it's not a bad game. I keep reading critics around the internet about how awful it is when they're basically all the same and in reality we have to accept that even if it doesn't fully feel like Dragon Age, and even if we're disappointed it didn't turn out the way we expected, it's still fun!

My thoughts? Yes, I hate that nothing we did in previous games matters. I hate that i don't get to see what happened with the state of the world I created by playing all three games over and over again, and I'm terribly disappointed, but you know what? I'm not mad at them for making this a clean state. Guys, let's be real, it's been 10 years and we (the fans) are older. If it weren't for Keep I wouldn't even remember my first DA:I playthrough. This is EXACTLY what happens when childhood tv shows get reboots that are clearly aimed at younger audiences but still want to appeal to the nostalgia.

And i gotta be honest guys, I truly dislike a lot of the dialogues bc they feel cringy to me, and you may think "that's just lazy and bad writing" or "you can't have bad dialogue in a RPG" but you know what? It's not bad, the issue here is that the dialogue appeals, yet again, to a much younger audience and i just don't resonate with it. It doesn't really matter, there's a lot of dialogues I've very much enjoyed too. And even when I really dislike that everything feels like hidden political discourse, I'm still glad that there is political discourse to begin with.

And correct me if I'm wrong, but hasn't DA been political since the very beginning? Although it was way better integrated to the story (I can't forgive the writers for not using the Qun and their views on gender as a main topic with Taash instead of having them dealing with a typical mom)

Either way, I LOVE the characters and the story. I love their plots. I cannot begin to tell you how much it meant to me when Emmrich confessed he was afraid of dying and then going through his storyline, it hit so close to home in a way no other piece of media had lately. And for me it was Emmrich, but for other people it could be Lucanis embracing his dark or Bellara learning to let go, or Taash with gender, or their multicultural background. Even Davrin learning how to take care of someone else and trusting.

At the end of the day, a fun game is a fun game. We got a bunch of Lore, fanservice and cameos. We got topics that resonate with players and we got feelings. And most importantly, we may get more DA content in the future.

My only real issue with this game is that it just feels too safe.