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v-ternus · 1 year ago

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Dedicated to @iamthecomet, who got me back into writing. Im the anon from your box a day or so ago. Hope you love the brain rot that you've elicited.

MDNI

18+ . t!Rain and Dew first time. (cunt, pussy, cock, dick, clit for what Rain has going on, and cock/dick for Dew).

Almost 3k and I dont know how it got this long. Idek how to really tag this. Its nasty, full of yearning. Dew takes good care of our boy.

If you see a mistake, no you didnt.

-Vee

“It’s puff, puff, pass dude. Not puff and hog it”. Rain chides, sending him a jokingly accusatory look. Dew takes one more long drag before handing it to Rain and telling him to finish it off. A warm silence blooms between the two, enjoying the cool night breeze under Omega’s tree. Dew, Aether and Mountain had planted it when he retired with Terzo. After a while, Dew is the one to break the silence.

“Why don’t we do this more often? We have the time now that tour is done. I'm sure Mountain wouldn't mind sprouting some more of the good stuff.”

Rain doesn’t answer. He knows why they can’t do this more often.

Being around you makes my chest cave in. I have to force my eyes shut or I would never stop looking at you. Your full belly laughs when Swiss says something dumb gets my stomach tied up in knots. The way your chest rises and falls when we’re laying out on the docks rips the breath out of my lungs. The warm stare of your pale blue eyes is blinding. I love you too much. It hurts that I can’t tell you- show you. Being around you without telling you is an unimaginable pain.

Rain can’t bring it up. He can't risk ruining whatever they have. And besides, Dew wouldn't want him.

“—Rain?”

Rain is yanked back from space to Dew sitting up, leaning over him. He really must've clocked out. It takes a long second for him to notice Dew’s hand right on his chest. The skin underneath it is on fire. It's too much and not enough. He wraps his own hand around Dew’s wrist and it makes sparks run through his arm. He shoots his head back and takes a deep breath.

“I'm ok. I think I'm a little too high. You shouldn't have made me finish it” Rain tries to joke, to offer up a convincing chuckle, but fails miserably. Dew doesn't believe him. He taps Dew’s hand, asking to be let up. He leans himself against the tree and Dew follows.

The closeness makes Rain more lightheaded than the weed. He starts rubbing the edges of his thighs, focusing on the feeling of denim against his hands. The texture is calming when he’s high. He looks over to Dew— his head against the tree, the bob of his damn Adam’s apple, the lines that make up that dumb face, the slender neck he wishes he could hold. It’s all too much.

Before he can even register it, he’s bringing his hand up. It finds itself on the back of Dew’s neck, with his thumb caressing the skin right behind his ear. Soft. Dew shivers and his eyes shoot open. Once he realizes what he’s done, he jerks his hand back.

I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. I'm too high. I'm sorry Dew.

It’s all he can spit out. He’s ruined it. It's all ruined. He’s upset him. Dew doesn't want him and now Dew is angry at him. Dew grabs his wrist and Rain waits in anticipation— expecting pain or a push. Instead, he's quickly brought up to his feet by a solid tug.

“What? Dew I—“

“Just come on Rain”

It's only a short walk to the dorms, but it feels like eternity. Rain can only register pounding in his ears and the feeling that his heart is going to beat out of his chest. They get to Dew’s room, and the door is shoved open. Dew is the first to speak

“Are you serious?” Rain manages to find anger in the words somehow. He’s expecting the worst. The reality of the situation has sobered him up and panic is creeping in. He can’t live with Dew being angry at him.

“I'm sorry Dew, really. Can we just forget it? I’ll stay out of your way from now on. We do—“

His ramble is quickly cut off by the wind being knocked out of him. Dew, in all of his small stature, has shoved him up against the door.

“I really hope you’re serious Rain.”

Dew’s lips find Rain’s before he can register the words. It was fast, their teeth knocking and sending the smallest cringe through both of them. But none of it mattered. Rain melts, held up by Dew and the door. His hands find purchase on Dew’s waist— fistfuls of his shirt. And he’s pulled lower, deepening the kiss.

It's messy, hungry. It's everything he’s wanted and more. Dew is sweet— he still tastes like the weed they just smoked, earthy and floral, but underneath it is Dew. Rain swears he tastes like honey, golden amber spilling out of those sly lips which are softer than whatever Rain’s imagination could cook up. He tugs on his bottom lip as he pulls away. He can feel Dew’s gasps, hot against his cool skin when they separate to actually breathe. But it’s not enough. He needs more.

Rain steadies himself and pushes off of the door, it makes Dew take a small step back. The small step turns into a few more as Rain keeps moving forward. Dew finds himself being pushed towards the bed. His knees hit the edge and Rain gives a final push, knocking him down. He sits himself down over Dew’s legs, placing soft kisses along his jaw, working his way down his neck. The kisses get harsher the lower he goes, he hopes they leave marks. He sucks a little too hard at the base of Dew’s neck and pulls away to a mark already forming. Dew is just as wrecked as he is– his hair is a mess, lips are a puffy red from their kisses, and breathy moans are wrung out freely. They only serve to fuel Rain on more. He licks a stripe up to his ear, biting it, worrying it between his teeth.

Dew whines.

Rain sits back and stares at Dew— all pink with blush as he registers the noise he just made. It’s adorable, for lack of a better word. He’s wanted to see this since he was summoned. He’s wanted to see the fire ghoul wrecked for him.

“I'm serious Dew. Im more than serious.”

Rain leans back in for a kiss and Dew is happy to let him indulge. He lets Rain pull him in closer, even though they can't physically get any closer. He lets him loom over him, as far as he’ll go. Dew reaches for the hem of Rain's shirt and gives it a tug. A silent request. The only response Rain is capable of is a quick please before Dew is pulling the shirt over him.

Dew grabs Rain by the face, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. He continues down– his mouth, over his chin, down the column of Rain’s neck. He dips down lower, kisses his sternum, and drags his tongue back to Rain’s collar bone. His teeth graze the sensitive skin where his neck meets his shoulders and he feels Rain shake from it. Rain weaves his hands up to the nape of Dew’s neck, tugging gently at his hair.

It makes Dew bite down, not enough to break skin, but just enough to drag a moan out of the water ghoul. Rain doesn't know if he wants to push his head off or pull him in closer. Dew follows what Rain did moments before and makes a mirrored bruise at the base of his neck— reflections of one another.

“Beautiful. So beautiful for me. My rainbow.” Dew barely spits out his praise before Rain is pulling his shirt off and pushing him onto his back. Dew fiddles with his belt, struggling to get his pants off. Rain– impatient as he is– takes it upon himself to start what Dew couldn't. He steps off of Dew to finish pulling his pants off and moves to take off his own, along with his soaked boxers that get thrown somewhere. He’s dripping desperately and is back on Dew as quickly as he was off. He lowers himself and buries his head into the mattress. He groans and drags his wet cunt over Dew’s still clothed cock. He thinks he could cum just like this– haphazardly grinding against Dew, hearing his moans right in his ear. He mutters something in the crook of Dew’s neck.

“Louder Rainy,”. Rain doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, he props himself back up on his hands, and grinds himself down harder onto Dew. His dick catches on the fabric but Rain bites back a whimper. The drag is intense. Dew finds his hips and pulls them down just enough that a high pitched moan escapes Rain. He can feel Rain soaking through his boxers, slick just warm enough over his hardened dick that it’s maddening.

With his head down and hair falling over his face, concealing it entirely, Rain finally lets it out, he nearly chokes on it.

I thought you wouldn’t want me.

He sounds so wounded, ashamed. Dew brings a hand up to tuck some of Rain’s hair behind his ear, finally cradling his face. Rain leans into it with his eyes screwed shut, afraid to look at Dew. He feels so small.

“Oh rainbow—“ Dew could almost sob. The idea that he wouldn't want Rain makes his chest tight. He’s wanted this just as much, but this is Dew. He doesn't know how to ask for what he wants. He’d rather wallow in his misery than tell Rain all that he’s been thinking- afraid of the same rejection. Afraid of driving him away.

Dew runs his thumb along Rain’s lip, trying to think of ways to comfort him, to calm his worry.

“Rain, look at me” Dew tries to sound as comforting as possible, not wanting to give the ghoul any reason to find malice in his words. “Please look at me,”. Rain angles his head up and opens his eyes just enough for Dew to see.

“Can I show you how much I do?”

Rain chokes on his own breath. Dew flips them over, running his hand down Rain’s side. It leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake but he needs more. He wants to give Rain anything, everything.

Dew runs his thumb over Rain’s hip, inches away from where he really wants him. It makes Rain throb, he’s getting wetter the longer Dew makes him wait. “Dew… please. I can’t do it anymore, please,”

Dew gives a comforting squeeze right as he brings his hand down to Rain slick pussy. Dragging his fingers up and down his slit, he feels Rain get impossibly wetter. He slips a finger in and feels Rain clench and flutter around his digit. Dew wishes it was his cock. His wish makes him realize that he unfortunately still has his underwear on– that’ll change soon enough.

“All this for me Rainy? You’ve got yourself all wet for me?” Dew punctuates his question by slipping another finger in. The stretch has Rain rutting against his hand, desperate. Dew makes the mistake of looking back at Rain’s face– lip caught between his teeth as he tries to hold back his noises, his palms dug into his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure as Dew works him open. Dew kisses under his jaw before readjusting himself, lowering himself to rest between Rain’s thighs. He pulls his fingers out and watches Rain’s cunt clench around nothing. Rain opens his mouth to voice his disappointment but is quickly silenced by Dew licking a long drag from his hole up to his cock. Rain’s back arches off of the bed.

“Be good and let me hear you,” Dew gets his lips around Rain’s stiff little dick, sucking softly at first, testing him. Dew dips down again, lapping at Rain’s pussy before bringing his mouth back to his throbbing dick. He holds it in his mouth, he can feel how heavy he is against his tongue. Rain can only mewl, a litany of please and don't stop flowing from his mouth. His brain feels like it’s melting out of his ears with the way Dew is eating him out.

Dew slips his fingers back in and tongues at the underside of his cock. He feels more slick gush out, pooling in his palm and dripping down to soak the bed underneath them. His fingers curl and feel around, searching. Dew knows he’s found it when Rain’s legs clamp around his head, spasming from the pleasure. It makes Rain see white. Everything is driving him towards the edge, but this isn't how he wants it to end.

Rain reaches down and grabs under Dew’s chin. He brings him up and meets his lips and Dew removes his hand so he can steady himself. You wont be empty for long.

Dew hums and licks into his mouth, sharing the heady taste of his slick. Rain cradles his neck pulling him down further, he can feel Dew’s thrumming pulse. He drags a hand down, pausing over Dew’s pounding heart. Mine. He doesnt now where the courage came from, but Dew quickly ducks his head by Rain’s ear and whispers it back. “Yours, raindrop. Whenever you want. Forever.” It's a promise he makes as he roll his hips into Rain’s thigh. Rain ignores it for now and decides to drag a little lower to the silver rings adorning Dew’s chest. He tugs lightly, it earns him a gasp. He keeps thumbing at the reddening nub, toying with it. Dew moves back in to get his lips on Rain’s, to drown himself in his taste. Rain's hand reaches further, moving past the band of Dew’s boxers.

He finally gets a hand around Dew’s cock and all he can feel is Dew shaking with anticipation. He’s hot, burning even, and heavy in Rain’s hand. Rain runs his hand down the length, giving a gentle squeeze to the base. Dew isn't quiet like Rain, not ever. So Rain touching him has him groaning into Rain’s shoulder. Rain brings his hand back up to swipe over the head and he feels Dew stiffen.

“Take them off Dew,” Dew huffs and all but throws himself off of Rain, quickly pulling off his ruined boxers and throwing them towards the edge of the bed. Dew goes back in for a kiss, and Rain gets his hand back on his cock- twisting around the head. Dew is practically leaking, remnants of his water ghoul days. Rain drags his hand back down, spreading his pre over his length. Dew is larger than he expected, Rain feels a tinge of worry that he might not fit. Everyone thinks the small ghoul would be proportional, but they couldn't be more wrong in this division.

“I need you Dew. Please fuck me,” Who is Dew to deny his pretty little siren? He centers himself between Rain’s legs, pushing his legs open wider. His pussy on display. He ruts his cock through Rain's wet folds, making sure to drag his head over Rain’s clit. Rain shakes with Dew’s little movements. He wraps his legs around Dew's torso and Dew picks up on the cue, finally lining himself up.

He eases the blunt head in, hoping Rain is adjusting enough. By the sounds he’s making, Dew knows everything is fine. He slowly pushes in inch by inch, but the stretch is still enough to have Rain choking on his own breath. Dew leans down, “Almost there baby, just breathe. Such a good boy for me. You’re taking me so well.” His words make Rain dig his heels in and it forces his cock in to the hilt. The stretch is sudden, and it's harder for Rain to adjust, but he can only think of how Dew is reaching into him. Perfect. They fit together perfectly, molded for each other.

Dew starts with shallow thrusts, inching in and out. He wants Rain to feel it all. His thrusts get faster, more desperate, almost pulling out entirely before carving himself back in. Rain swears he can feel him in his stomach, with each thrust knocking a quick moan out of him. Rain starts meeting his thrusts, rocking his hips perfectly. Every thrust hits his G-spot and has him seeing stars. Dew brings his hand down, swiping his thumb over Rain’s cock. His eyes drag down to where they meet, where Dew is gliding into him. Rain feels his cock twitch in him. The lewd sounds of skin against skin fill the room.

The speechless noise is interrupted by Rain. “Can I ask for something… please?”

Anything Rainy, anything you want.

He reaches down for Dew’s hand, dragging it up. Both of their hands rest around his neck and he squeezes Dew’s down against the sides, right under his humming pulse. Dew realizes what he wants and is dumbfounded, he thinks he’s dreaming, but quickly indulges Rain. He squeezes a little harder, and watches as the water ghoul’s eyes roll into the back of his head. Dew feels him clamp down harder on his cock. The tight and wet grip Rain has on him has him right on the edge. Rain taps his hand and Dew loosens his grip. “So good Dew, fuck– its so good.”

His thrusts turn into grinding his cock deeper into Rain, he manages to reach further and further with each roll of his hips. Dew tightens his grip again, just to feel Rain flutter around him.

“Close Rain, please... together?” Rain gives him a quick nod before reaching down to tug at his neglected clit. Dew steadies his hand on Rain’s neck for just a little while longer, just until his thrusts become a little less coordinated. Then he squeezes harshly, “Ive got you Rain, cum for me.” The gentle words prove to be his undoing, he goes rigid against Dew, cumming as he keeps fucking into him.

Feeling the coil tighten further, Dew is sent over the edge by Rain pulsing around him. He spills deep inside Rain as his aftershocks continue to wring him dry. He sags against Rain and wraps his arms against his waist, both of them sticky with sweat. Rain feels like a live wire against Dew.

He would be content to just lay like this for forever, listening to Rain’s heart as he comes down from his own orgasm, feeling his body against his. But he knows that they need to get cleaned up- especially Rain.

They bask in each others after glow just for awhile longer, feeling each others breath even out. Dew is the first to find his voice,

“I wish you would’ve said something sooner,”

Rain places a kiss against Dew’s hair, and squeezes him closer. “Me too wildfire, me too.”

#rain ghoul #fire ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #trans rain #mountain ghoul #earth ghoul #omega ghoul #terzo #aether ghoul #dew/rain #the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fic #nameless ghouls

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ramonathinks · 4 months ago

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OKAY SO, i am hella late but now im finally here to say *spoilers below*

Chapter 1 thoughts:

Side eyeing when Mei-Mei was mentioned just because bleh 👎🏾. A lot of the dialogue you use, you can just see the facial expressions and I love that around your writing!

“Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home” i giggled like that’s just so in character.

Calling Satoru your “notorious opp” LMAO. & the little finger joke saying how reader would keep one of them lmaoo ik it was most likely intentional for it to be a reference to sukuna but i loved it 😙!

Lowkey need reader to lighten up like why is reader auguring with my man fr 💯 , reader lucky to be in a closet with him.

“We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.” / “…Is that a bad thing?” CONTROL IT CONTROL IT EXACTLYYY. The him complimenting her just to insult her later >>>

“You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” I would’ve folded like 😣😣 yes im jealous bae, just yes.

when he said ��trust me pretty” my stomach folded over bad & the ““It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.” like im nodding my head cause just yes!

The “call me by my first name” my stomach caved in cause is he serious rn?? 😮‍💨😮‍💨 “i know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice” exactly exactly 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️. asking to kiss again had my gushingggg idc idccc.

“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫 why he clocked reader tea.

“Making it easier to see your pussy.” this line was kinda crazy like it had me weird nervous idek how to explain it😭 but i loved it and imagining him ripping the pantyhose open did something to my brain. & “Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.” 🙊 reader better than me cause i would’ve left more than just my panties behind.

Chapter 2:

don’t know why reader acting surprised that no pay wanna be around them arguing like 😭…

these three paragraphs gotta be my absolute fave from this chapter. the way he (well you) describe his feelings and the morphing and acknowledgement of a crush and to what they’re doing now was so swoon worthy like the fact that he was okay with having it just an us thing instead of making it public because he know reader wanted to stay the way it was, it was such my fave part. (though rn im not even done)

more than obsessed reading the way he talks about them and their relationship, like just being in his head while he described a lot of what’s happening and how he reacts to reader as a whole.

ERMMM, he wouldn’t even have to beg fucking wimme but it’s fine because omg it was a bit sexy with his whining and his need for it🙊

“As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you. But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.” 😙🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ this was absolutely cute like i just love them bad 🤷🏾‍♀️ i get him and we wouldn’t be hiding but i gotta admire reader for this

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” CLOCKEDDD GOJO 😵‍💫

I REMEMBER YOU SENDING ME THIS PART AND IT STILL GAGGED ME LIKE GOJO MOVE OMGG JUST SHUT UPPP

i can’t even be mad cause what’s his problem skdjskdn, all he had to do was say no and move on 😭😭 hello??

AND THE LAST FEW PARAGRAPHS BROKE ME HELLO HOSHIIII WHYYY?? “All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you.” fuckkk??? and literally everything after that had my stomach in KNOTS, TWISTED UP AND SPIT OUT OMF

Chapter 3:

“The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it.” this kinda (more than kinda) hurt me bad because the emphasis on sacred and just all that happened and what he said, i just can’t ! this emotional turmoil is crazy

reader crying again cause of him omg can he be quiet 😔😔😔🥺 but also idk idk cause it was also just so sweet like?? saying how scared he was because reader just completely switched ugh, ☹️

“I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…” this paragraph gotta be number one in the fic like are you insaneee!! and to follow it up with the i like youuu 😮‍💨😭🙈🙈 omggg even i was blushing. HONESTLY THE ENTIRE PHONE SCENE IS JUST TOP TIER, IM RE-READING IT BECAUSE ITS JUST THAT GOOD. VVVVV much reminiscent of an early 2000s chick flick/ romcom 😁💕💕

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.” 😭😭😭😭 he ateee omg corny ass!!

“You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly.” 🤭🤭🤭 ughhh this was one of my absolute faveeee paragraphs, i really love how you wrote his mind and im literally smiling whenever reading from his pov because of just how much it’s obvious how he just lovesss reader so much

““Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3” 😭😭😭😭🥰 this part was soooo freaking cute! like literally adorable and i was smiling so hard and even when geto first mentioned the picture and gojo froze i was already smilingggg

10/10 but you already knew that hoshi :) i enjoyed every second of it and it’s my boyfriend 🥺🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️💕💕💕

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 [𝐍𝐎𝐓]!! | a JJK series

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!” “BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU!” It’s no secret to anyone on this Earth that you and Gojo cannot stand each other. Despite that, the world seems amused to put these two star-crossed lovers haters in the same space. Or worse, have them dwell deeper into their feelings for one another…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - fluff + angst + misunderstandings - first kiss - virginity loss - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - secret relationships; implied friends-with-benefits - sex in shared rooms; college dorms + hotel suite - college parties - use of party games (seven minutes in heaven) - confessions - mention of drug/alcohol abuse - humor bc Gojo and college, lol - Gojo is a cocky, tactless sweetheart, nothing new - cameos of other characters + explicit content will be listed in their respective fics (within the contents).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: when I say that I had this series planned out, I mean like mid-October last year planned out, lmaoo!! I'm honestly so psyched to do this series, as it's one of my favorite tropes + relatively short as I'll be busy irl, but we'll do what we can!! i was lowkey feeling this concept when i was re-watching Ranma 1/2 and figured it would work great with Gojo. So, here's to hoping i can properly execute my thoughts with this series, hehehe~

reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ❤︎ gif header made by me + fic dividers used are provided by the wonderful @cafekitsune and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!!

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑰𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒊𝒓...

All the material below contains explicit 18+ content, so minors do not interact.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (Feb 1st)

The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

₊˚⊹♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 (Feb 7th)

Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

₊˚⊹♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 ��𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 (Feb 14th)

Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖!

Would you like to be tagged when these pieces get released? Lmk in the replies, please, and thank you!

𝑻𝑨𝑮 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑫!!! Have made a list of the first 50 ppl who asked, but don't worry!! Check back for the stories when they're posted on their respective dates!!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ These stories have been written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.

#ramona reviews ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙

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stevethehairington · 6 years ago

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i can feel the stress up to my god damn eyeballs

idk what i’m supposed to be doing in lab this week; my best friend isn’t talking to me and idk if that means she’s dead in a ditch somewhere or if she’s mad at me or what; i have three (3) huge tests; i have chapters to edit/prep for posting; 2 more chapters to completely write; i wanted to make a nice little banner or moodboard or something for when i post it too.

i’m. going to explode.

#this week is going to be fucking hell #i can just see it already #lab has me in police role except i wasnt supposed to have that one so idk what its supposed to do #idek if that study is running this week bc i cant find it on the website anywhere #my best friend hasnt spoken to me since feb6th and ive messaged her like three times since and still no response #im really worried bc idk if shes like not okay or if shes just upset with me for some reason #and if she is upset i really dont know why #so im like worried about that bc weve never gone this long without talking and idk what that means #and i have three fuckin tests which are going to kill me #theyre all for classes that p much only have tests in the gradebook so if i fuck up on them im fucked #and god all the bang stuff #i have to edit like 6 chapters i have so far #and i have to write the last two still #and yesterday i wrote 3k but today i dont feel like writing at all bc i can just feel that knot of stress in my stomach #and its making me anxious and a little bit nauseous #i hate this

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haunted-maids · 2 years ago

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the creep bell is ringing for my bus driver 🗿

#idek why i just have this knot in my stomach and i’m scared to find out if i’m right #c/m.txt #ask to tag

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a-sputnik · 6 years ago

Photo

documentation of my work Nmeme in Body/Blood, curated by Elena Tory-Henderson at Visual Bulk in Hobart.

images courtesy of Remi Chauvin

#it was meant to be mneme but nmeme works fine too.#i think this was a more personal take on the original image #hard to convey exactly why this image is imprtant to me but i think a few people have rly got it #i guess its a work about love and protection but idk if i want everyone to know that #idek if its a self portrait or just the knot in my stomach #maybe thats next years goal: to be more honest about my work

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reminiscingtonight · 3 years ago

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Live It Down

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: ~600

A/N: I’ve been obsessed with LANY’s new album since it came out. This is the result of me listening to Live It Down on repeat. Let’s pretend I wasn’t writing something else when inspiration struck (guess y’all will just have to wait longer for the angst)

[Are you home?]

The text startles her awake. Wanda watches the three dots appear and disappear three times in the next minute. Seemingly uncaring of the silence, you send another text through.

[I’m coming over.]

Feeling hot all over, Wanda fights the urge to throw up. Her stomach was in knots at the thought of you seeing her like this.

But that doesn’t stop her from opening the door five minutes later when she hears the quiet knock on her door.

Wanda finds you leaning against the frame of the door with a bottle of Jack in hand.

There’s a soft smile on your face. Wanda can’t help but feel undeserving of it.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Your smile falters a bit but you don’t let her tone knock you down. “And why’s that?”

Wanda doesn’t answer.

You both know why she doesn’t want you here. And that’s exactly the reason why you are.

“All I know is that you shouldn’t be alone.”

Your hand brushes along the small of her back when Wanda takes a step back to let you in. The way she relaxes against your hand makes her feel guilty.

She doesn’t miss the twitch of your eye when she pulls away.

The two of you settle on her bed.

A beat of silence passes.

You tilt the bottle at her.

Wanda takes the offered drink without hesitation.

It burns going down, but she knows it’s nothing in comparison to the pain she’s inflicted today.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

She shoots you a dirty look. You look back at her evenly, not perturbed by the venom shining in her eyes.

“We should have done a better job clearing the area.”

Wanda scoffs. “You act like it wasn’t my job to prevent civilian casualties.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

Wanda couldn’t stop the hot tears from forming in her eyes. She appreciates you not pointing them out.

“Yes. You messed up.”

Your words hurt more than Wanda wants to admit.

“But so did we.”

You steal the bottle back from her, grimacing at the taste when you take a sip.

“You weren’t ready to go on that mission. But we still made you go.”

Neither of you mention the other night when Wanda voiced her concerns about her presence in Lagos. Steve had written it off as nerves.

It’s nearly an hour later. The bottle is almost empty. The two of you have long settled underneath her covers. Wanda itches to reach out, but something holds her back.

“I don’t understand why you’re here.” It’s hard to hide the wariness in her voice.

Wanda watches as you carefully choose your words. “I care about you. I’m not going to run, no matter how big you mess up. I’ll always be the first to let you live it down.”

It’s nights like these, conversations where the two of you dance around what’s so obviously there that makes Wanda think that the two of you could be something beautiful. Someday.

“Tomorrow’s a new day, a new story waiting to be written.”

The numbness washes away with a simple touch of your hand against hers.

“So take a breath. Don't forget the lessons of yesterday.”

Her heart flutters at the slight uptick of your lips when she squeezes back.

“And if you mess up again, I’ll be here to help you back up.”

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Taglist: @mionemymind, @supersourlemon13, @olsensnpm, @invictusbabey, @idek-5, @vancityfire13, @peabrain112, @magicallymaximoff, @lostandsearching, @cantcontroltheirfear, @xxromanoffxx, @ithoughtyouweresokovian, @3and30aresoultwins, @iliketozoneout, @wandadarlingg, @wellsayhelloaagin, @useless-wlw-fangirl, @marvelwomen-simp, @pnsteblnme

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #mcu x reader #song fic #drabble #Ace writes

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leetotters · 3 years ago

Note

Hey girl, just read your fic about tom, reader and seb, it's fantastic!! Mind if I ask a similar one but with Robert Downey Jr instead of Seb? I'm Such a whore for tom and RDJ🥵🥵

ya'll i had this request for the past month or longer idek, but yes omfg i love robert so much!sorry for any mistakes! also i would like to say thank you for 200+ followers like wth! thank you so much for actually taking your precious time to read my fics!

warnings: i do not write for robert! this includes an age gap between robert and reader!, use of pup and pet, a little daddy kink, ass eating, sucking of fingers?, mouth fucking, spanking but barely, fingering, curse words, unprotected sex, pussy eating, threesome(m,m,f) sorry for not including this earlier and hopefully i didn't miss anything.

tom holland x reader, robert downey jr x younger!reader

summary: something like request^

"Look at you all wet for us pet" Robert teasingly spoke, his eyes trained on your dripping wet cunt, "This wet for daddy" he circled your figure sprawled on his mattress, Robert had you nude on his bed, all your clothes ripped from your body when he caught you and Tom making out in his room.

Speaking of Tom, he was sat on the chair near the bed, his hand rubbing his growing bulge whilst Robert teased you, the older man pressed his middle finger to your lips, mutely telling you to start sucking on his slender finger, you took it into your mouth, locking eyes with Tom and whirling your tongue around Roberts finger sucking erotically making both men audibly groan at the flawless sight.

"Look at you sucking on my fingers," Robert stated, thrusting his fingers in your mouth making you gag, "Like if it were my cock" Hearing the filthy words leave Robert's lips, you clenched your thighs together, only to have a pair of rough hands shove them apart slapping your dripping pussy

"No honey," Tom's deep voice spoke, "We didn't say to close your thighs, we want to see your pretty pussy" Tom licked his palm, tasting your juice, "Always so sweet" He moaned, tempted to slap your cunt again.

Robert watched how your body reacted when the younger man swatted your cunt, oh how was he going to destroy you, he thought. It had been awhile since the older man had such a young partner to have sex with and he going to take advantage of you, show you what it's like to be with a real man.

Don't get him wrong, he adored Tom like his own son, but he also had eyes for the little girlfriend Tom introduced to the cast while filming infinity war, Robert was over the moon when he caught you both in his room, even happier when you and Tom pulled him on the bed indulging him in the sloppy kiss.

"Like when he slaps your cunt huh pet" Robert took his fingers out your mouth gilding them down your naked frame, to your pussy where he inserted his wet fingers into your wet folds easily pushing them in and out of you. "Fuck" Both men moaned, the obscene sounds of your cunt juices jouncing off the white walls filled their ears.

Robert kept his fingers working in your pussy, stretching your lips apart so his cock would fit perfectly in your tight petite hole, he felt you clench around his fingers, immediately retreating his hand, he let out a mocking laugh when he heard the small whine left your lips, which you received a slap to your cunt, "No whining pup, you'll come around my thick cock"

Tom was now fully bare, his large hand was wrapped around his length, jerking himself off while Robert edged you. "Suck my fingers clean" Robert ordered, shoving his hand in front of Tom's face, wiggling his fingers awaiting for the younger man's lips to suck his fingers, Tom took Robert's finger into his mouth hesitantly, but began sucking greedily at the the taste of your delicious pussy.

In no time, Robert shredded his pants on the floor, together with his tie and shirt but left his vest on, he had you on your hands and knees, your ass up proudly in the air while he devoured your dripping pussy and bottomhole, Tom had his cock in your mouth, thrusting rather harshly that the tears that were brimming in your eyes were now trickling down your soaked cheeks.

You moaned around Tom's cock when Robert's hand slapped your asscheek, both his hands groping your cheeks and pushing them apart, licking a fat strip of your juices enjoying the flavor of you, Tom didn't lie when he said you tasted sweet, Robert thought, slurping your wetness while he thumbed your clit.

Tom grabbed a fistful of your hair firmly, dipping your head back so his cock was now hitting the back of your throat, you were a mess not even sure how you were still holding up yourself while recieving all this pleasure.

"Going to come in that pretty mouth of yours doll" Tom groaned when you hollowed your cheeks around him, his hot come spluttered in your mouth but Tom still kept his rhythm riding out his high.

Your cheeks were hot and tear stained when Tom drew out his cock from your mouth, he gripped your chin in his hand, pressing his lips to yours in a steamy kiss, only to be interrupted with a squeal from you, feeling your once empty pussy now full with a pain - pleasing stretch from Robert's harden cock.

"Yeah baby, you're so tight" Robert grunted feeling you squeeze his length again, it's been a while since he felt such a strangling hold around his cock, he held your waist with a steady grip thrusting into you with a mercilessly force, you both moaning out heartily, "Oh pet" He smacked your ass, "So fucking perfect" Robert's forehead crinkled, his eyebrows furrowed together, viewing the way his thick cock moved in and out your hole.

Tom's cock hardened again seeing you getting fucked brutally by his co actor, his lips clashed with yours again, his hand wandering down to your bouncing breasts playing with the solid buds, slipping his tongue in your mouth, swallowing your melodic moans. "Taking Robert's cock well doll".

A coil knotted in your stomach, making an unsettlingly yet blissful feeling full your insides, you knew you were close, and you were hoping Robert would let you come, god you so badly wanted to, you dropped to your elbows, feeling Robert hitting you directly on your g spot.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck" You whined out breathlessly, your belly twisting in an euphoric feeling, you came on Robert's cock, his thrust were brutal, making you aware that he was also close, "Pet, squeezing my cock so hard" Robert groaned.

You pulled Tom down to your level, pressing your puffy lips to his, you felt Robert's come spilled inside you, the older man kept his pace, milking his cock dry until your tight hole was fulll with his come.

Robert pulled out of you, leaving one last smack to your butt before nudging your feet apart so you were now laying on the comfortable sex messed bed, your head resting on Tom's naked lap.

"I see why you like her Holland" Robert spoke, completely amazed, "Wouldn't mind for a next round"

"Oh Robert, you haven't seen anything yet" Tom smirked

#tom holland smut #tom holland #tom x reader #robert downey jr #robert downey jr x reader #rdj x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #younger!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader x robert downey jr #tom holland x reader x rdj #lee writes short fics

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panda-noosh · 4 years ago

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Hello!! I'm so happy that your requests are back up, but I seriously hope you're doing well in these times ^U^!! Could I request a Voltron Paladins x reader (headcanons? Whatever's easiest for you :)) where they all just group together and have a sleepover? Idek why I love this idea so much, but whether it's staying up late at night with angsty secrets or revealing embarrassing fluffy moments, I'm all up for it! Thanks so much <3 I really do appreciate how hard you work though :)

none of you ever say you’re going to have a sleepover. it just kind of happens.

hunk wandered into your room a few hours ago, and the rest of them just followed, hauling blankets and pillows and an entire pizza (thanks Lance) along with them. they spread themselves out upon the carpeted floor, lay down and the sleepover began without anyone needing to announce it.

you lay on your bed, head tilted over the edge as you glare up at the ceiling. the stars make patterns on the white paint, peeking through the opened curtains that none of you have the energy to get up and close. all six of you sit in silence for a while, Lance gnawing away at his pepperoni pizza in one corner, Pidge fiddling with her fidget cube in the other; it’s such a peaceful night, so you’re quite annoyed when Keith ruins it by saying, “remember when we all met for the first time?”

immediately you’re teleported back to that god forsaken day. you were half delirious with exhaustion, you’re pretty sure, but you remember all of it like it just happened yesterday and not nearly seven years ago.

“them hallways were grim,” Pidge grumbles. “remember we had to scrape the dirt off the tiles?”

“i just wanna know what they were paying that janitor to do, because from what i remember, it was us students that did all the cleaning,” Lance says before a shiver runs down his spine. “absolutely vile stuff. never going back there again.”

you glance over at Shiro. he’s staring at the ceiling, the tiniest smile on his face.

“what about you, big guy?” you call over. “do you remember that day, considering you’d just gotten out of surgery?”

Shiro scoffs, not once taking his eyes off the faux constellations dancing over his head. “of course i remember it. how could i forget running into five of the most annoying people i’ve ever met?”

“you say that, but now look at us,” says Hunk. “living together.”

“having sleepovers,” you add.

Lance scowls around his pizza slice. “this isn’t a sleepover. it’s a meeting.”

“oh, yes. a meeting where we all cuddle up and-”

“there will be no cuddling,” Keith grumbles, scooting his blankets away from your bed.

“it is mental, though,” Hunk continues, “that we all met just because Shiro got his arm cut off.” he pats Shiro’s metal arm. “thanks, buddy. we owe you one.”

“what were you all doing in that hallway, anyway?” Shiro asks.

Pidge laughs, throwing her head back as she does so. “personally, i was hiding from the security man; he was looking for ID’s, and i didn’t have mine-”

“plus yours said you were female,” you point out.

“that, too.”

“i’d just got off one of the new cruise ships with Lance,” Hunk says. “my stomach was in knots, let me tell you, and it only got worse when Shiro came out of that room with a robotic arm. one of the worst days of my life.”

you glare at him. “thanks, pal.”

“i was looking for Shiro,” is Keith’s response. “but you all know that.”

you giggle, remembering the months spent teasing Keith for his life’s journey of finding Shiro - he always insists it wasn’t like that, that Shiro was just a good friend Keith was worried about, and despite all of you being aware this was the case, you still teased him into the ground about it.

“and you?”

you look over at Pidge. “what?”

“what were you doing in that hallway that day?” she clarifies.

you shrug, gazing back at the ceiling. “i don’t know. i was just passing through.”

the room drifts into silence. above you, the stars continue to dance. around you, your friends continue to be present; it’s more than you could have ever asked for, more than you think you deserve, but you’re so, so grateful for this very scene of peace that you once believed you would never see again.

it’s mental how these people just happened to stumble into your life out of nowhere; not a single of your life’s experiences would be complete if one of them hadn’t been in that hallway that day, dealing with a problem entirely separate from your own, a problem that somehow managed to interweave with your own. on that day seven years ago, you never would have guessed you would be sat with them all now, bundled in your room like a group of high school kids, reminiscing on a past that doesn’t even seem that long ago, but consists of six people totally different to the six people sitting here now.

Hunk sniffles, destroying the serene silence you somehow found yourself locked in. “i love you guys so much.”

Pidge groans. “Hunk! we don’t do that!”

“did he just say the L word?” Lance cries out. “gross!” but even as they chastise the emotional Hunk, they wrap their arms around him and pull him in for a hug. you grin, slipping off your bed to join the ensemble, unable to hide your own tears of appreciation as you do so.

#request #voltron request

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bisougi · 6 years ago

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ambrosia

“Eager, sweetheart?”

→ pairing: min yoongi x reader → genre: dom!yoongi, vampire!yoongi — smut, suggested angst → warnings: cussing, blood, double orgasm, mild degradation, semi dub!con, stockholm syndrome vibes, oc is damaged, idek → word count: 4.5k

note: this is ridiculous and just an excuse for me to write vampire yoongi smut. its been sitting in my drafts collecting webs (haha) for months now, so hopefully you can at least try to enjoy it. all i know is that im sick of editing it in attempt to make it better, so you guys can have it.

With a dramatic and exasperated sigh, you swing your coat off and carelessly throw it aside. No matter how many times you thank the universe for your stable job at the local bar, your shift seems to drag on for a couple hours too long every night.

There’s a dull ache that has settled deep within the bones of your legs, so you plonk yourself down on the leather couch and kick your feet up on the coffee table. If your father was present, he would’ve scolded you for the disrespectful action; luckily for you, you live solitary in a mansion built for six.

The miserable emptiness you feel will always be there, but over time, you’ve learnt to accept the fact that your father put you—the youngest in the family—in charge of maintaining the mansion.

As if by routine, your eyes catch the shelf that holds all of your family photographs. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you reminisce about the memories displayed in stills until your gaze shifts to the pitifully familiar photograph of your mother.

You shut your eyes, now cowering away from the memories as your bottom lip quivers in attempt to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

You shoot up from the couch, unwilling to torture yourself further by staring at the photo of your beautiful mother who was faced with her tragic demise far too soon. You make your way to the profligate staircase, the matured wood creaking under your feet, reminding you of something directly out of an old horror film. Unfortunately, there’s no other way to reach your favourite room in the entire estate.

Whenever you enter through the large ebony door, the most significant moments of your childhood come flooding back to you. The pleasant scent of aged wood pervades your every sense as you scan over the towering bookcases; neglected, dusty shelves hold novels you’ve read at least four times and novels you’ve never even picked up, however, the most vital aspect of the room sits alone in the centre, the lustrous shine of the moon illuminating the object through the sizeable skylight.

The grand piano.

You skim your fingertips over the polished black exterior. Fluttering your eyes closed, you deeply inhale and gently lower yourself to sit on the bench. After a couple of hand stretches, your feathery light fingers innately find the correct keys when you decide upon playing Für Elise. It’s a classic piece; you don’t need to keep your eyes open, let alone read any sheet music. You know it like the back of your hand.

With a final breath, you allow your hands to take over, your fingers gliding across the piano keys as if you were born to play the instrument. Over a decade of intense practice has certainly paid off.

Every last knot of tension in your body loosens at the sound, allowing you to sway to the music emitting from the very pads of your digits. Your breathing gradually shallows, and soon, your hands are overpowering your mind. The piano is the conductor of the trance you fall into when you play; it’s better than any drug, its ability to rid bodily tensions astonishing. Those who don’t play will never understand such relief.

The tempo picks up, flipping the entire sound of the song on its back. Your mood shifts alongside it, leaving a focused crease between your brows as the music advances from gentle, to frantic, to sombre, to aggressive, so on and so forth. The versatility is one of the things you adore about this piece.

The song approaches its closing and a sweat droplet trickles down the curve of your face. Your breathing is heavy when your fingers release the keys for the last time, almost as if you’ve completed a workout. You can’t remember Für Elise ever making you so exhausted and emotional.

A few moments pass and you slide your hands down the expanse of your thighs, taking your time to steady your breathing and relax the muscles in your face. Without the sound of the piano filling the room, it’s eerily silent. The only sounds that can be heard are the puffs of air being released unevenly through your mouth—

Clap, clap, clap.

You freeze, eyes widening as you sharply inhale for the last time and lock your jaw, refusing to exhale in fear of making a noise.

It’s in my head.

Your heart is pulsing violently in your ears, so loud that it makes it difficult to focus on anything else. You’re washed over with a feeling of sickness, the unalloyed panic roiling the bile in your stomach as you challenge the urge to vomit all over your instrument.

You remain still, listening to the echoing applause mingling with the continuous thrumming in your ears. The sound is amplified with every passing second you allow it to near. A shiver shoots straight down your spine and goosebumps rise on the surface of your skin in its tracks, the small hairs coating your body standing on end in cold fear.

The clapping halts and after a few seconds, you shakily exhale. You still can’t find it in you to blink, your fixed stare refusing to leave the piano keys.

What feels like an eternity passes before you muster up the courage to redirect your gaze. You gingerly reach for your phone in your pocket, drawing it out with a trembling hand and keeping it prepared to make an emergency call.

With a tilt of your head, your comically wide eyes catch movement behind you in the reflective surface of the piano. You can’t decipher what the movement is, you just know there’s something—or someone—behind you.

Your whole body is aquiver as your finger swipes over the emergency dial, missing it amidst your fit of terror. Before you can attempt to hit it again, a large hand inches into your peripheral vision and a violent gasp tears through your throat followed by a bloodcurdling scream—but nothing comes out.

The hand is tight over your nose and mouth and tears erupt from your sockets, streaming down your cheeks like a ruptured dam. You kick and writhe in the stranger’s grip, desperately trying to pry their hand away from your face. During the weak attempts of fighting for your life, your phone crashes to the ground in the heat of your trepidation, but just as your vision begins to soften, a deep voice emits from behind you and slices through the sound of your thrashing.

“Hey,” he sighs, “stop kicking.”

Instinctively, you stiffen at his command and he chuckles lowly at your movement. “Docile.”

You fight to keep your eyes open and struggle even harder to keep them in focus while you threaten to lose consciousness.

“My apologies, I forgot.”

He releases you and you gulp down oxygen so harshly that it scratches raw at your throat, leaving you spluttering and scrambling around on the floor to fetch your phone so you can call the police, but it’s nowhere to be found.

You stand upright as you make eye contact with the intruder, continuously moving backwards to get as far away from him as possible until you see your phone in his hand. Upon impulse, you lunge forward to snatch it from his grip, but his reflexes are borderline unearthly. He moves quickly, the phone now behind his back and entirely out of your reach. At this point, you’re heaving, backing up so quickly that the hefty piano shifts on its feet.

“You’re very talented, darling.” He plods forward, a smirk decorating his.. deceptively handsome face. His hair is black and tousled, eyes sharp and catlike, skin sickly porcelain and pale pink lips naturally in a pout that makes him look younger than he likely is.

You disregard his compliment, your chest rising and falling unnaturally fast as he languidly moves closer by taking one more step. You don’t trust yourself to form coherent sentences, but you dared to make an attempt.

“H-How did y-you—“

“Ah, she speaks.”

“I don’t.. I don’t have much money—“

The man chuckles again—this time, it’s more of a scoff. He bows slightly to become eye-level with you, “relax, sweetheart. Do I look like I need your money?”

Your eyes dart down to his attire; he’s wearing a silk button-down shirt, the first two buttons undone to reveal more of his porcelain skin. It appears to be on the expensive side.

“Then.. w-why are you here? I’ll call.. I’ll call the police—“ You stammer, wedging the small of your back further into the piano when he takes yet another step. “Don’t come closer.”

He cants his head, his potent smirk widening as he nears again and shows you he’s not going to quake at the hands of your meaningless threats. There’s mere inches between you now, and you can’t retreat further without tremendous pain or tipping the piano over.

He’s stepped further into the light now. You take the time to scan his features over and over again so you’re able to describe him when the police show up, but when your eyes reach his, you notice something bizarre.

“Your eyes..” you mutter, leaning forward to get a better look, “they’re—“

“Red? I’ve been told.”

You swallow thickly and your cluttered mind spirals. Red?

He raises his free hand and you wince, shying away from the unknown man. He holds it in the air to silently inform you of his unthreatening intentions, but your eyes screw themselves shut when he steadily moves it towards your face and allows his knuckles to lightly graze your warm cheek.

“Now, _____, I’m going to keep this short and sweet. You’re a smart girl; maybe you’ll make the connection with a touch more information.”

You nod, incapable of doing anything different.

“Good girl.” He praises your compliance, although, the lump in your throat suggests you’re not prepared for whatever this stranger has to say to you.

“Every novel in this library,” he waves his index finger around for emphasis, “I’ve read at least several times.”

You don’t say a word.

“I’ve been around since you were just a girl, and yet, I haven’t aged a day.”

Silence.

“I can smell you, and not just by that flowery perfume you wear; I can smell the mouthwatering pheromones that radiate off of you in plentiful waves. You can’t even smell those yourself.”

A tangible tension occupies the space amongst the two of you when he takes one final step, your chest colliding with his and your faces remaining barely an inch apart. His voice has lowered to a hushed whisper as he watches your trembling lips.

“I can hear your heart hammering in your chest, I can hear the blood travelling through your veins at this very moment, and,” he darts his pink tongue out and dampens his bottom lip as he inches closer, “if you were to bleed right now, I’d drain you of your sweet ambrosia faster than you could scream for me to stop.”

He closes the space between you, his soft, cold lips clicking with yours like a puzzle piece. You become rigid, unable to reciprocate, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. The voices of your conscience are scolding and yelling at you to push the man away and run for the hills, but you can’t. He’s got you under a spell you can’t escape, much like your piano.

Finally, you move your lips and flutter your eyes closed, sighing deeply into his disturbing eroticism. His kiss is that of something beyond what could ever be considered human, his tongue forcing its way past your lips and his hand moving to cradle your lower back, pulling your body against his with a strength that quite literally knocks you off your feet. You stumble, arms shooting up to hold onto his shoulders for leverage but he balances you upright all on his own, deepening the kiss and reducing you to nothing but liquid in his hold.

He slides his wandering hand down further and runs it over your ass, groping and clawing at the soft flesh. The gesture elicits a whimper into his mouth and he cancels it out with a guttural groan you never thought you’d ever have the privilege of hearing.

The enigmatic man wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up onto the piano, separating your legs and lodging himself between them, his cold lips still locked with yours and his tongue continuing to tease your own. It’s better than anything you’ve felt for a long time considering your amplified desire for affection, a direct result of the forlorn void in your chest.

But you frown into the kiss. If this is going to happen—and only God knows why it is—you want to make him feel good, too.

Your hands move to his hair, dainty fingers subconsciously tugging on the short strands at his nape. He tips his head backwards for you, exposing the cold flesh of his neck and offering more canvas for you to assault; no time is spared as your mouth gets to work, nipping, biting, licking and sucking at one area in particular and pulling away, anticipating a red bruise. The total lack of one frightens you, but just as before, you can’t bring yourself to stop when a deep moan that morphs into a breathy titter emits from him. You draw your mouth away from his neck and give him a timorous yet triumphant look through your lashes.

“You’re very lucky I have self control.” His lips quirk at the sides as he tilts his head back down. “My first instinct certainly isn’t to tend to your rather pathetic level of arousal.”

You gasp when his icy cold hand makes contact with your clad crotch. The temperature of his skin is glacial enough to seep through the protection of your clothing and the sensation is foreign, but good enough to have you bucking against his motionless hand and shying away from his half-lidded gaze.

“Eager, sweetheart?”

Your shameless grinding loses pace as you nod, struggling to get any words out. It feels nice, but it’s not enough. Your body reacts to his every word which is doing nothing but doubling your thirst.

Before you can register what’s happening, he has pulled your shirt up and over your head, leaving you exposed in your underwhelming white bra and wishing you’d pampered yourself this morning. His doll-like lips trail wet kisses from your jawline all the way down the valley of your breasts, eliciting yet another breathy whine that echoes in the spacious room.

You impatiently curl your finger underneath his chin to catch his lips again, refusing to stop for too long. He happily hums into your mouth, the sound reverberating throughout your body as he latches his fingers beneath the waistband of your black jeans, tugging them down leisurely and with utmost ease. Breaking the kiss again, he looks down at your panties that are already completely soaked through.

“I’ve barely touched you.” He pouts with faux-innocence, eyes boring into your finely dressed lower region which is when you realise he’s still fully clothed, dress shoes and all. Without a second thought, you make a bold move and reach for the buttons of his shirt, but he speedily catches your wrist before you can lay a finger on him.

“Do you want to undress me?” He husks, voice an octave lower than before. You nod once more, but he he shakes his head in response, fed up with your lack of speech. “Tell me what you want. Verbally.”

You clear your throat before speaking, “yes, I want to.”

“You want to what?”

“I.. I want to undress you.”

He offers a content sigh, running his tongue along the underside of his bottom teeth — that’s when you catch a glimpse of two mirroring fangs in his mouth. His eyes darken when he notices your discovery and your mind is sent into a whirlwind, finally connecting the dots.

“You’re a va—“

He tears the weak material of your panties and finds your swollen clit in one swift motion, rubbing fast circles over the bundle of nerves and cutting your statement short. You can’t suppress the salacious moan that tumbles from your throat and you grind on his cold fingers as you did before, only it’s a million times better when it’s skin-to-skin.

“Well done, doll.”

He teases your entrance with the tip of his finger as he abuses your clit, never fully plunging a digit in regardless of how you hopelessly chase his touch. You’d do anything to have his fingers inside you right now, panting as the strength of your craving causes your walls to contract around nothing.

Your orgasm approaches faster than you’ve ever known it to, lower stomach knotting with every short circle he creates with his finger. It becomes pleasingly painful and within a couple of laughable minutes, your heart is rattling against your ribcage, your vision blurring until your climax can be felt on the very tip of your tongue.

“I’m Yoongi.” You hear his faint, honeyed voice whisper into your ear amidst your pleasure.

“Y-Yoongi—” You repeat, shamelessly moaning his name like a mantra until your throat runs dry.

Your entire being is overcome with an explosion of relief, leaving you but a moaning, trembling mess draped over the vampire’s shoulders. He removes his fingers from the sensitive nub and cups your heat, cooling you down and massaging you through your orgasm.

But before you can make mild recovery, he grabs you by the hips and thrusts you further onto the flat lid, compelling you to lay down with a single hand on your chest. Your back hits the surface unceremoniously, the blow knocking the air straight from your lungs and leaving you breathless.

Yoongi is quick to snatch your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he straddles your waist. The glint of lust laced within his irises is so blinding that it could easily be mistaken for malevolence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, _____.” He drawls, edging his face closer to yours. “You want me, don’t you?”

His words make you completely disregard his claims and a string of distorted admissions escape your puckered lips before you can make any effort to stop yourself. The vice-like grip he has on your jaw leaves an ache in your bones, but it feels too good to warrant any complaints.

“Undress me.” He demands, releasing your face and using his hand to guide yours to the buttons of his silk shirt to which you hastily pop. You’re careful not to crease or tear the shirt that you assume is worth thousands of dollars, and a gentle tug of the material leaves Yoongi’s entire torso exposed. He’s lean, petite and—unsurprisingly—sickly pale skinned all over. Despite that, there’s not a single flaw on him; his skin is smooth, similar to ceramic and smoothened with utmost precision.

As you pop his last button, you remove your hands from his clothing and rest them either side of your head. He smirks down at you, undoing the button on his fitted slacks and tugging them down the slightest bit, just enough to reach into his briefs and pull himself out. The mere sight of his length is enough to send your mind into a frenzy, a fresh warmth growing in your core as you make note of the thick blue vein travelling upwards from the bottom of his shaft. He’s not fully erect yet, so he wraps his hand around himself and offers a few quick pumps for good measure, shifting his weight on his knees. As much as you’d like to take the lead, your body hasn’t yet ceased its spasmodic aftershocks from your first climax.

When you’re within close proximity of someone, you can usually feel the heat of their body, but with Yoongi, it’s the polar opposite. He’s cold, the temperature hitting your bare skin even through his slacks. With every passing second that he’s not inside you, you become more and more impatient. You huff, writhing around on the reflective surface and rubbing your thighs together in attempt to grant yourself even the most minor relief. You’re humiliated to say you’ve never felt so empty and desperate before.

Yoongi hums, watching you with curiosity evident in his features. “I forgot what it was like to desire sex so much. You humans are like the werewolves,” he chuckles to himself, “always desperate for a fuck, oozing arousal over the smallest things. Your scent is much more pleasant, though.”

“T-The werewolves?” You stutter out, suddenly realising that the entire world you thought you knew was falling apart around you and becoming something you thought could only be true in films and television shows.

“Ignorance is bliss, sweetheart.”

With that, the head of his cock presses lightly against your burning entrance. For a short second, you think he may allow you to adjust to the intrusion, but you stand corrected when he pulls back and snaps his hips forward with the entire weight of his body, winding you for the second time.

His breath hitches in his throat as he splits you open, hunching over and allowing himself to hold his weight with his arms as you cry out in a strangled moan. You feel sick with pleasure, the sensation of being filled up coursing through your every vein in the form of powerful blows.

Deciding to have a little fun, his following thrust is not as merciless as the first. He works up a painfully slow and consistent pace, observing the way you react as you whimper through attempts to even out your breathing.

“Please, Yoongi.” You beg him, screwing your eyes shut and running your hands down the length of his back. Your fingers dip into every ridge in his spine until you reach his waist, applying pressure with your greedy hands and motioning him to move faster.

“Too slow?” He hums, basking in the sheer amount of your desperation. “How about this?” Yoongi growls, pulling his cock all the way out and slamming back into you so hard you feel your body jerk upwards.

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” you groan, your thighs stuttering as you claw at him, “again!”

“Manners, darling.”

Before you can finish sobbing out a prayer of pleas, he repeats his actions and hits your sweet spot for the second time, third time and fourth time. He relentlessly fucks into you, holding your waist with one of his large hands to assure you don’t shift too far up. The sound of his hips making contact with your pelvis is something you’ve never heard before, and God, is it the best type of filthy.

Aside from his locked jaw and fixed stare, the only other thing that suggests he’s having sex is an almost inaudible grunt he releases every time he hits balls-deep inside of you. You’re keen to evoke more of a reaction from him, but you can’t pinpoint exactly how until you shakily run your hands from his navel to his chest, feeling his grip on your side tighten and his gaze falter when your finger skims over his nipple.

A flame ignites within you and you return your finger to the peculiarly sensitive bud, watching him as carefully as you can when his jaw slacks and locks again after a sound threatens to escape.

Before he can huff and angrily demand that you stop, you surprise yourself and pinch him with shaky hands. Yoongi’s arm supporting his weight stutters and his jaw slacks entirely, mouth falling agape in a wonderfully lewd groan that mingles with yours in the atmosphere.

“How bold of you.” He scoffs, ramming into you especially hard and earning himself an obscene whine and another cry of pleas.

“I-I’m so close—”

“You know, _____,” he breathes, releasing his grip on your side and moving his hand to caress your cheek, “I’ve always had other plans for you.”

Before you can question what he means, he closes the space between your mouths in an intoxicating kiss. His tongue works magic as he swallows down the filthy sounds of your approaching climax, thrusting in and out of your throbbing heat as hard as he pleases.

After a moment of frantically chasing each other’s mouths, Yoongi pulls away from your swollen lips and redirects his attention elsewhere; your neck.

“The perfect target.” He whispers, moving your hair aside and running his finger down the delicate skin where your carotid artery lies beneath, goosebumps trailing his touch. Before the situation can dawn on you, Yoongi lurches forward and his fangs pierce straight through the papery skin at the crook of your neck, launching you headfirst into an earth-shattering orgasm that reverberates from the crown of your head to the very tips of your toes and back again.

Your fingers tangle themselves within Yoongi’s hair as the strangely erotic sting of his mouth draining every ounce of life from your body settles in your clouded mind. The colours in your world progressively desaturate and you can only imagine the blanching of your face when your ears tune in to the guttural sound of Yoongi swallowing down mouthfuls of your berry red blood, although you struggle to hear it over your own whining as you unravel atop the instrument.

“You taste fucking divine.” He moans deeply into your supple skin, licking a stripe up your neck to collect the trickle of blood that spills from the clean wounds he created. “You’re even sweeter than I imagined.”

You mewl weakly in response to his vulgar praise, your grip on his hair loosening as your body begins to shut down. The last string you have connected to consciousness threatens to snap but the rush of your orgasm keeps your eyes in obscured slits just long enough to see Yoongi appear back in your direct line of sight.

“Stoic little thing, aren’t you?” He smirks and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing your blood into the corners of his lips. His breathless, husked voice is the last thing you hear before your eyelids become heavy, your tired eyes glazing over and your vision fading to pitch black.

You’re floating in thin air and feeling more at peace than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, but it’s terribly short-lived when you feel an inexplicable rush of electricity course through your body. You can hear the thud of your heart increase to a pace that should be sending you into cardiac arrest, the sound morphing into a blaring ring in your ears until you promptly regain all of your senses, your body violently convulsing until you’re coughing and spluttering, gasping for air and fully awake again.

Colours are brighter, sounds are louder and everything is moving slower.

note: me, queen of leaving my oneshots on cliffhangers even though i most likely won’t write a sequel

#min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi scenario #vampire yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #vampire au

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today-only-happens-once · 7 years ago

Text

Fault Line

Title: Fault Line

Word count: 6477

Summary: When Patton had asked if being safe was enough, Virgil had agreed. But the truth and its consequences weigh heavy on everyone. Sequel to Fight or Flight. Platonic or pre-romantic Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP/CALM.

Warnings: angst and suffering abounds, so do feelings of guilt, brief cursing, nightmares, monsters, (repeated) description and discussion of major injury/trauma and intense pain, borderline overworking, panicking and panic attacks, Roman is insecure and has self-deprecating thoughts, nausea mention, Virgil is tense, Logan gives the expository speeches (and I love him for it), food mention, let me know if I forgot anything

A/N: The fic that never seemed ready to end. Yikes. This got way darker (and longer) than I thought it would? Everyone is suffering. Headcanons abound, Logan is long-winded, POV is played with, longest SS fic yet and I didn’t even cover absolutely everything? I think I like it but at this point idek, this might just be a hot mess. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine. *covers my eyes before posting, then hides*

Confused? Read Fight or Flight here!

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff (Extra props for her help in brainstorming/problem solving with me for this fic), @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @lizaelsparrow @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @lesbian-velociraptor (since you said you were interested!) @thepoolofthedead (only tagging you because its a continuation of that one fic you inspired.) Let me know if anyone ever wants to be tagged!

…

Virgil jolts awake with the taste of a shout dying on his tongue.

The memory of Roman’s pained scream still reverberates violently in his head against the abrupt silence of his room. His chest heaves with shuddering gasps. His purple t-shirt is soaked through with sweat, his bangs sticking to his forehead. He presses trembling hands against his eyes.

He breathes in for four seconds.

His barely-contained gasps.

He tries again. He breathes in for four seconds.

His shredded red sash.

He breathes in for—

The bloodstains on his white suit.

He breathes—

Roman crying out in pain.

Virgil kicks the blanket off of his legs and tumbles ungracefully out of the bed. He can hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears but it is still not enough to drown out the memories. The nightmares. A part of Virgil is begging him to run but he doesn’t know where because it’s inside of him, because you can’t out-run the memories inside your head.

Nevertheless, the urge to go somewhere anywhere anywhere but here is strong and before he’s even completely aware of what he’s doing, Virgil sinks out of his room.

When he rises back up, he’s got his eyes squeezed shut against the images flashing through his mind.

“Virgil?”

The Anxious Side’s breaths are still coming too quickly as he opens his eyes. French doors are left open so that a breeze blows through the white curtains and he realizes suddenly that he’s left his hoodie in his own room. He is open and exposed and this was a bad idea. Bad idea, bad idea, bad—

“Whoa. Virge.” The bed squeaks, followed by hurried footsteps against the hardwood.

Virgil feels hands on his shoulders and finally, slowly, looks up. Bare feet, red pajama pants, a thin white t-shirt. Loose strands of hair fall into wide, concerned eyes. Roman.

Safe. He’s safe. He’s okay.

Virgil sags a little in relief. He feels the grip tighten on his shoulders.

“Is something wrong?”

Virgil looks for a second into the Prince’s dark eyes, then down at the soft rise and fall of his (healed, he was healed) chest. The white t-shirt hugs his ribcage in a way that seems to Virgil such a stark contrast to the image of the bleeding slashes through his skin that was seared behind his eyes.

“N-no,” Virgil says, finding his voice just as Roman opens his mouth to speak again. “I’m sorry. I-I just…” He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay. Virgil runs a hand over his eyes. “Just had a bad dream. I don’t… know why I came here. Sorry.”

Roman had been sleeping. God knows he needed the rest after the quest, after fighting the monster and nearly… Virgil shouldn’t have bothered him, really. It had just been a dream. A memory at the most. A memory that has since passed. Didn’t matter now. Arbitrary, as Logan might call it.

“Virgil, wait—“

He sinks out before Roman can finish.

…

When Roman walks into the kitchen the following morning, Patton is surprisingly the only one there.

“Good morning, Padrè,” Roman says, not quite able to muster the usual sing-song flair he had most mornings. Virgil’s pale face and wide eyes the previous night were still ingrained on his mind.

“Morning, kiddo,” Patton greets with a warm smile. “How’d you sleep?” He hands a cup of coffee—already including Roman’s preferred ratio of cream and sugar—to the Prince.

Roman accepts it with a distracted but appreciative smile. “Virgil came to my room last night,” he says in lieu of answering Patton’s routine question. He takes a sip of coffee.

A crease appears between Patton’s eyebrows. “Was he okay?”

“I…” Roman pauses, looking down into his coffee mug. The knot in his stomach tightens a little. Virgil had seemed pretty torn up. Afraid. And though Roman was Creativity, it didn’t take much imagination to guess what exactly had been wrong. “He said he’d had a bad dream.”

“And you think it was about… what happened?”

What happened. Through the past couple of days since Roman and Virgil had returned, that was exactly how they’d all been talking about it. Or not talking about it, as the case may be. Roman remembers every moment of it all in startling high-definition, and from the Anxious Side’s constantly terrified gaze, he knew Virgil could as well. But talking about it…

What had happened was his fault. Roman knows this. It’s his fault that Virgil’s having nightmares that he won’t talk about. His fault that Patton hovers with questions pressing against his tongue. His fault that Logan had been hiding in his room ever since. His own fault that when he lies awake at night he can feel a ghostly whisper of the pain shred through his chest…

“Yeah, Pat,” Roman says, his voice unusually subdued. “I do.”

Patton is quiet for a moment, then sets his own mug on the counter with a quiet click. “How are you holding up?”

“Me? Totally Gucci.”

The Moral Side has a gentle, knowing look behind his glasses. “How are you really?”

The Prince swallows and averts his gaze. “I’m fine, Patton.”

“Well, I don’t believe that for a second.”

His jaw jumps. What does Patton expect him to say? Roman had been in danger before on quests, but not like that. He’d never… lost control of the mindscape, if that’s even what had happened. He’d never… almost…

And with Virgil there. He’d put Virgil in danger. He’d risked his life and Virgil’s and for what?

Listen to me. I don’t know about this. Virgil had been practically begging him to turn back. How had he responded? This is what I do, Virgil.

Though the coffee is saturated with cream and sugar, the Creative Side has a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Roman?”

The Prince shakes his head and forces a smile. “I’m just a bit tired. It’s nothing to worry about.” He clears his throat. Patton takes in a breath to reply, but Roman cuts him off. “Where’s our Microsoft Nerd?”

Patton gives him a quiet look at the less-than-subtle change in topic, but lets it slide. “I think Logan’s in his room again.” He looks at the stack of pancakes on the table. Roman hadn’t even noticed them when he’d walked in. “He should probably eat something.”

…

Virgil takes in a deep breath before rapping his knuckles lightly against Logan’s door. He shoves his hands into his pockets as he waits.

“Uh, come in,” Logan’s voice calls, distant and distracted. Virgil quietly opens the door and steps into the room, closing it behind him.

Logan’s bedroom is covered in a broad sea of open books. They lay open across his bed, his desk, the floor; nearly any flat surface of his room has either an open book or a stack of closed ones. Sticky-Notes and dog-eared pages mark the pages along with penciled notes scribbled in the margins of about half of them. Logan is sitting in a chair, his feet propped up on the desk with a pencil tucked behind his ear and another in his hand. A thick, leather-bound volume is open in his lap.

“Logan?”

The Logical Side glances up. His hair is a little mussed, and his blue tie is pulled slightly loose from his neck.

“Virgil,” he says with a note of surprise. He pulls his legs off the desk, his chair swiveling to face the Anxious Side more fully. “What can I do for you?”

Virgil scratches the back of his neck. “What, um, what are you working on?”

Logan glances around his room. “I am searching for information that may explain some of the… unusual events that have unfolded these past few days.”

Oh, Virgil thinks. He hesitates, unsure if knowing more would help him or just make everything worse. What was it that Logan had told Thomas once? If you’re afraid of being hurt, then seek knowledge. And Logan’s explanations usually did have a quite calming effect on Virgil. At least… most of the time.

“What have you found?” Virgil asks.

“Well,” Logan begins, nodding for Virgil to take a seat on the small space on his bed that wasn’t covered by books, “As we know, occupying space in any of our respective parts of Thomas’s mindscape can have unintended consequences on our processes, particularly if that space is not one in which we are accustomed to occupying.”

Virgil sits, watching as Logan marks the page open in his lap before closing the book and turning to grab another. “Uh…”

“Take, for example,” Logan continues, “When Roman, Patton, Thomas, and I all came to your room when you had elected to leave. Over a relatively short amount of time, Roman, Patton, and I began to feel the effects of your room with the outcome being increased sense of insecurity, emotionality, and urgency respectively.”

Virgil nods. “Okay…”

Logan thumbs through a smaller book as he keeps talking. “Similarly, the sense of nostalgia and emotionality of Patton’s room led to various effects on all of us. Frustration on my part, romanticization—forgive the pun—from Roman, and your stress increased from the sense of where Thomas might otherwise be in his life. Correct?”

Virgil offers a wry, humorless smile at the memory. It had been an important thing for them all to do, but a part of it had certainly been rough for Virgil. “You could say that.”

Logan nods, not looking up as his eyes scanned the pages of the text open in his hands. “Therefore, it stood to reason that I develop the hypothesis that Roman’s corner of the mindscape might also affect our processes.” Logan glances quickly at him through the lenses of his glasses. “Especially prolonged exposure, and particularly in your case.”

Virgil frowns. “Why particularly me?”

Logan quickly flips through a few more pages as he responds. “Granted, I don’t know anything for sure. This is all pure speculation based on what data I had available and the research I was able to accrue over the past few days.”

“Uh—“

“But,” Logan continues, oblivious to the skeptical eyebrow Virgil raises, “Virgil, though your processes are more complex than this mere overgeneralization, you largely are the manifestation of Thomas’ anxiety and fears. Correct?” Logan’s voice is patient and measured. Calming in a way.

“Yeah…” Virgil says slowly.

Logan looks up then, his brown eyes both curious and calculating as he locks gazes with Virgil. “May I ask you another question?”

Virgil nods his agreement, gesturing for Logan to continue.

“Would you say that your level of distress increased throughout the five days you spent in Roman’s realm?”

“I…” Virgil trails off as he thinks about it. Logan is right. His anxiety had gotten a lot worse throughout the journey. The process had been gradual and steady for the most part, and the Anxious Side had largely attributed it to just… who he was. But by the time he and Roman had reached the stairwell, every fiber of him was begging for them both to turn the other way and never look back.

“Yeah,” Virgil says after a moment. “It… it was definitely getting worse.”

Logan nods as if the information confirmed something for him. “Creativity, as an energy, can often have adverse effects on the fight-or-flight response. Such influence may, for example, lead to increased cognitive distortions regarding the perception of threats in particular. In doing so, the cycle of impact becomes self-perpetuating.”

Virgil tugs at the sleeve of his hoodie as he turns over Logan’s words in his head. “What does that mean?”

Logan closes the book and looks carefully at the other Side. “In simple terms, your anxiety was heightened because the Creative energy that saturates Roman’s corner of the mindscape encouraged you to perceive increasingly worse threats, increasing your fight or flight response, which therefore worsen the perception of the threat, and so on.”

Virgil nods thoughtfully. So Creativity is what made his anxiety so much worse. That makes sense. “Okay, so that’s why I was more… on edge than normal. But there’s still something I don’t quite understand.”

Logan arches an eyebrow in piqued interest. “Hm?”

Virgil shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the hem of his sleeve as he pinches and pulls it between his fingertips. “Roman’s mindscape was rough on me. That’s fine. But it doesn’t exactly explain… what happened. Why would he…” He swallows, his voice dying in his throat.

A crease appears between Logan’s brows. “Why would he what, Virgil?”

Virgil sighs, shoving his hands back into his pockets again. “I…” Virgil can hear the hisses and shrieks of the monster whispering in his ear and fights back a shudder. He swallows hard. “Roman still has control over his realm, right? Everything in it… he created?”

What did it mean that Roman created the monster that nearly killed him? Did he think it would be some kind of sick joke? Did his ego just get the best of him that he finally created something bigger and stronger than he was? Why would he let it get so out of hand?

“Well,” Logan says slowly, “I think it may be more complicated than that.”

“What?”

The Logical Side snaps the book in his hands closed and sets it aside. He adjusts the frame of his glasses. “I arrived at the self-perpetuation hypothesis the night after your return. The rest of my research has been seeking to address the very question you’ve just posed.”

“And?”

Logan purses his lips, casting a furtive glance at Virgil. “I may have a theory, but I am lacking some… data sets that would be pertinent in either proving or disproving my current hypothesis.”

Virgil’s eyes flash up to meet his. “You want me to tell you what happened.”

“It… would be helpful, Virgil,” Logan says, his voice a bit softer. “And I think it might be beneficial for you as well.”

The impossibly-strong shadow. It’s hisses in Virgil’s ears as it wrestles for the sword. Roman screaming as its talons shred—

“No,” Virgil says.

“Virge—,” Logan tries, but Virgil is already on his feet.

“I said no, Logan,” he snaps. “Besides, what happened doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“I—“

Virgil sinks out of the room.

…

Roman stands on the balcony overlooking the broad landscape of his realm. The wide expanse of sky is a flat gray, with darker clouds looming on the horizon. The rolling hills in the distance cast long shadows. The usually light breeze has sharpened to a harsh wind that tugs ominously at his red sash and the strands of his hair. Before, Roman could stand on this balcony overlooking his corner of the mindscape and feel that excited thrill rush through his stomach at all of the adventures yet to be embarked on, all the foes to yet vanquish, the performances yet to be acted.

But now…

Roman sighs and hangs his head, his hands beginning to shake slightly before he tightens his grip around the iron railing.

Now the thought of venturing any further than this balcony leaves him with a dizzying sense of paralyzing fear and faint nausea. Roman still isn’t entirely clear on what exactly happened, but somehow he’d… lost control of the mindscape. The one place where he was definitely supposed to have it. He didn’t always win every battle, but even when he didn’t, he had never almost… died, as a result.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

He should have listened to Virgil. How could you be so stupid?

But Virgil had been watching him so closely the entire quest. And on occasion, when Roman bested a small beast or found a solution to a problem along the way, he’d see the way Virgil’s eyes would widen slightly, the corner of his mouth turned upwards a fraction. And Roman—with a warmth swelling in his chest—felt for once like maybe someone could be proud of him.

But Roman always had to push it too far, didn’t he? Always had to be Too Much, couldn’t stand to just be Enough.

So when Virgil urged Roman to turn back, the Prince refused. The Prince was no coward—the Prince couldn’t stand to think someone might think of him that way. Not when he’d seen the look he could convince himself was pride in Virgil’s eyes.

This is what I do, Virgil, he’d said. Roman sees lightning streak brightly across the sky as he realizes with a sickening sort of clarity that there was still a truth to the words.

Because that it is what he does, isn’t it? He dives recklessly headfirst into fights, consequences be damned. Except in this case, ‘consequences’ really meant Virgil. Roman had fought and lost and it was Virgil who saved him. When Virgil had rammed into it, tearing it off of him despite its impossible strength, Roman knew he would never again see that pride and trust that Virgil had placed in him so carefully.

Roman stays standing on the balcony even as the rain pours down hard and heavy around him.

…

“Kiddo?”

Virgil is sitting in small nook by the window in the mindscape commons with his hood pulled up, but he pulls the earbuds out of his ears when he hears Patton’s voice. The Moral Side is giving him a soft inquisitive smile, holding two mugs in his hands. Patton hands one to him. It’s tea.

“Mind if I join ya?” Patton asks.

“Uh, sure,” Virgil says, pulling his knees up closer as he accepts the drink. Patton sits across from him, taking a quiet sip.

For a moment, the two sit in companionable silence. Virgil inhales the scent of the tea—lavender and cinnamon, he notices—and feels, for the first time in a very long time, the tight knots in his stomach loosen just a little. The mindscape is unusually quiet. Although, Virgil figures that had probably been true for the past few days. He doesn’t know for sure. He’d been spending a lot of time alone, not wanting to bother any of the other Sides.

“I’ve missed this,” Patton says softly, as if reading Virgil’s thoughts. Startled, Virgil looks up. Patton’s smile is soft, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that makes Virgil’s heart sink.

“Pat, I…”

Patton shakes his head. “I didn’t say it to make you feel bad, kiddo.” He takes another sip of tea. “A Dad just worries about his kids.”

Virgil averts his gaze, opting instead to swallow some of the warm drink. “I… I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong, Virgil,” Patton tells him gently.

Virgil stares at the tea bag floating in his cup. There’s a beat of silence between them.

He hears Patton take in a deep and not wholly-steady breath. When he looks up, the smile the Moral Side offers doesn’t reach his eyes. Patton lifts a shoulder. “It was scary, though. When you both came back.”

Virgil’s grip tightens around his mug. The lump in his throat hardens slightly.

Patton’s soft, quiet voice floats in the air between them. “You were both hurt. You were bleeding a little, but I don’t think you even noticed. Roman was… very seriously injured. I’ll never forget the look in your eyes, Virge. I’ll never forget the look in Roman’s either. Both of you were terrified out of your minds.”

The edges of Virgil’s vision starts to blur with tears. He blinks a few times, but doesn’t lift his gaze from the steam curling up from his mug.

“You were both trying so hard to stay calm for each other, but I saw—could feel—how afraid you both were. When I asked you if it was enough that you were both safe, you told me it was. But… I don’t think that’s true, kiddo. Not really.”

Yes, it is. It’s enough. It’s all in the past. Virgil takes in a breath to argue exactly that, but the air trembles and catches in his lungs.

“Virgil, honey, look at me,” Patton requests softly and gently. It takes Virgil a long moment before he lets his brown eyes flicker up to Patton’s.

“It’s okay if it’s not enough,” Patton tells him as he reaches a hand and brushes Virgil’s bangs slightly out of his eyes. “But take it from someone who has a lot of experience in it when I tell you that you can’t keep bottling it up. You can’t, Virgil. We aren’t supposed to hold pain so closely.”

Virgil feels his vision blur again and he quickly brushes the sleeve of his hoodie across his eyes. He struggles to find words in the torrent sea of thoughts that press in the back of his mind. “I…” His voice catches but he forces the words out in a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Why not, Virge?”

“Because… because…” Virgil clenches his jaw for a moment. “It’s too much, Patton. It’s… It’s all my fault. I feel like it’s all my fault, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, kiddo,” Patton says with a sad smile. “You’re not the only one. But you don’t have to do anything. Just talk to one of us.”

“I don’t…” Want to burden you.

Patton seems to read his thoughts. “This is something we shoulder together. I’m not going to force you to talk about it right now, kiddo, but please talk to someone soon. I’m always around, any time day or night. So is Logan. So is Roman.”

When he glances up, he sees the warm sincerity and tinge of concern in Patton’s dark eyes. Virgil swallows and nods. “Okay.”

…

Roman stands at the door to Logan’s room. He sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. It’s some ungodly hour at night—Roman hadn’t bothered to check the clock—and it’s more likely than not that Logan is asleep. It’s hardly like this is urgent. Roman doesn’t even know why he found himself padding quietly through the mindscape to stop at the Logical Side’s door.

He shakes his head, and is about turn away when he hears a quiet thud and Logan’s unmistakable, muttered cursing.

At least he’s already awake, right? Roman tells himself, before knocking quietly.

“Hm? Come in,” Logan’s voice replies. Roman cracks the door open before entering the room fully and letting the door close behind him. Logan is leaning down to pick a book up as the Creative Side steps into the room. “Roman. I must admit, you were not who I was expecting.”

Roman forces a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, Specs.”

Logan’s gaze narrows almost imperceptibly. “Quite the contrary. I merely meant to convey surprise.” He straightens up with the book in his hands.

Roman glances around the room. There are more books and scribbled notes visible than there is carpet or bedding. “What’s all this for?”

Logan sets the book in his hands on top of a stack of them at the corner of his desk. “Research.” He glances quickly at the Creative Side. “I don’t mean to make you feel unwelcome, Roman, but did you come here with a specific purpose in mind?”

Roman doesn’t answer right away. How is he supposed to explain to Logan that he’d been lying in his canopy bed, staring at the ceiling, and feeling the echo of a brilliant and intense pain slice through his chest before deciding he just couldn’t take it anymore?

He lifts a shoulder. “A Prince can’t check on his subjects once in a while?”

Logan looks unconvinced. “Roman, it is nearly 3 in the morning. Most are sleeping at this hour.”

“You’re awake too, you know.”

“Doing research,” Logan rejoins simply. “I have stated my purpose. Besides, you are still recovering. Substantial rest is optimal for healing.”

“I’m fine, Logan.”

“Falsehood.” Logan levels a steady, unflinching gaze at the Prince.

Roman averts his gaze. “I just couldn’t sleep, okay? And I thought Patton’s room would probably be the wrong choice, and Virgil is having enough problems sleeping without me waking him up, and I noticed you were already awake, so I just… I thought…” What? Roman doesn’t even know what he was thinking, really.

Logan looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. “Have you frequently been having trouble falling asleep?” He moves towards his bed, marking the open pages before folding the books closed and stacking them on top of one another on the bookshelf beside his bed.

“I…” Roman blinks hard for a moment. “I guess,” he admits quietly.

“When did it start?”

“After.”

“I think—” Logan turns to face him, his words careful and measured—“it would be beneficial for you to name it and talk about it.”

The Creative Side shakes his head adamantly, feeling a flash of frustration heat his face. The words spill out of his mouth before he can think to stop them. “Why? Why does talking about it matter so much? I already spend every waking moment thinking about it, Logan, so why do I have to speak it aloud. It’s already too–,” Painful. Roman snaps his jaw shut, but he has already said too much.

As good as Logan is at keeping his expression neutral the majority of the time, the surprise is evident on his face. “You feel guilty?”

Roman scoffs, throwing his hands up. “Of course I do! How could I not?” He points a finger towards Logan’s door. “Patton hasn’t had a real smile in days because of me. You’ve been drowning yourself in research because of me. Virgil has nightmares every night because of me.”

“Roman—,”

“I lost control of my own corner of the mindscape, Logan,” Roman continues. The edges of his vision start to blur and he blinks hard to clear it. “I’ve never not known what was in the mindscape when I embark on quests, but this time…” His hands ball into fists at his side. “I lost control of it. What does that say about me, huh? Can’t even contain my own creations. I put Virgil in danger. I…”

Logan’s brows pull together. “Wait. What do you mean you ‘lost control of the mindscape’?”

Roman sighs. “I… Virgil and I got locked in a cave and there was this… shadow beast. I didn’t create it, Logan. I… had no idea what it was.” But he remembers it vividly. Its not-quite humanness, the way it shrieked and hissed and moved impossibly fast. It’s raw strength squeezing at his throat. Throwing him through the air without even touching him. Shredding through his chest with a searing, blinding pain—

Logan frowns. “That seems… improbable.”

“I know what I s–!”

“No, you misunderstand,” Logan says quickly, holding up a hand. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of fabricating a falsehood. Merely that this is new information. What you just described is… odd. I assume that this ‘shadow beast’, as you called it, is the perpetrator of the injuries you sustained?”

Roman swallows and nods hollowly. “Yeah.”

Logan hums thoughtfully before grabbing a notebook off of the desk and pulling the pencil from behind his ear. “So somehow, something that you did not create existed within your realm, interacted with you directly, with the ability and intention to cause tremendous trauma.” As he speaks, Logan scrawls messily on the page.

“Uh, yes. I-I guess you could phrase it that way.”

“And this has never happened before?”

Roman peers closer at the page, taking a step towards the Logical Side. Logan’s handwriting is too messy and the Prince is too tired to decipher it upside down. “That would be correct.”

“Then what is the variable here?” Logan mutters, mostly to himself. “Thomas is in perfect health, so that isn’t it…” His gaze flies back up to Roman. “Would you say that there was anything unusual about this particular quest? Anything out of the ordinary?”

The Creative Side scratches the back of his head, confused about Logan’s sudden change of demeanor. “Nothing comes to mind. Well, aside from Virgil’s accompaniment, of course.”

Logan stares at him for a moment. “Of course,” he says softly. Something alights in his eyes. “Of course! How did I not see it before?” He spins around suddenly and starts shifting books his desk around before grabbing a notebook—different than the one he had in his hands—and thumbing through the notes.

“Um, Logan?”

“The self-perpetuation hypothesis. The relationship of reciprocity is vastly more complicated that I’d first thought.”

“In English?”

The corner of Logan’s mouth quirks up in a small self-assured smile. His bright eyes rise and lock onto Roman. “Virgil was the variable.”

…

Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. The light leaking out from under Logan’s door meant the Logical Side was probably already awake, right? Virgil’s heart is still thudding in his chest with the nightmare-induced adrenaline that he can’t seem to shake out of his system. The Anxious Side pulls the sleeves of his hoodie over his palms. He knocks softly, then hears voices on the other side.

“—ination of the conflicting processes, combined with the creation-driven tendencies of your realm, resulted in the corporeal form.” Logan.

“Wait.” Roman. Virgil is almost certain. “So Virgil was influencing the mindscape? That’s why that… thing showed up?”

“Perhaps an oversimplification, but yes, precisely.” Logan’s voice, getting louder as he—presumably—crosses the room towards the door.

Virgil’s stomach hits the floor.

He’d known it was his fault, of course, but there is still something faintly sickening at hearing the very person he’d failed to protect and the literal Voice of Reason confirm his guilt. He had been influencing the mindscape. Roman’s realm.

Roman hadn’t created that thing. Virgil had.

That corporeal shadow that had sunk it’s talons into Roman’s chest and ripped through his skin had been because of him.

The memory of Roman’s scream floods his mind. You did that to him.

Virgil can’t breathe.

The door opens, but Virgil’s mind is swimming—drowning, really—in the repeated mantra he can’t shake. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

“Virgil?”

“Shit. Virge, it’s okay—“

It’s not it’s not it’s not

He bolts.

…

Roman shoulders his way past the Logical Side as Virgil runs down the hallway back towards his room. “Virgil!” But the Anxious Side is gone already. Roman rakes a hand through his hair and blows out a breath. He spins around to face Logan, his eyes wide.

Logan’s eyes are unusually solemn. He nods in the direction that Virgil had gone.

Roman wastes no time, rushing down the hall after the Anxious Side. His strides are long and hurried, and he nearly crashes into Patton as the Moral Side steps out of his own room in his cat onesie.

“Whoa there, kiddo,” Patton says, grabbing the Prince’s shoulders to steady him as he stumbles to a halt. “Where are you off to in such a rush at this hour?”

Roman’s gaze is focused over Patton’s head. “Virgil,” he says, shrugging out of his grip.

“Wait. Roman, slow down,” Patton says, frowning, “What’s wrong with Virge?”

Roman barely hears the question. Logan speaks up for him. “I believe Virgil overheard Roman and I discussing the events of the past few days and now feels responsible for what transpired.”

“I have to—,” Roman tries, but Patton interrupts him.

“What did you say?”

“I don’t know how much he heard,” Logan replies, his voice subdued in the dark. “But given his reaction, I’m almost certain he did not hear all of it. I was merely explaining to Roman that the energy produced by his realm entered in a relationship of reciprocity that worsened exponentially until conflating into something corporeal due to the particular tendencies of Roman’s—”

“Another time, Logan,” Roman snaps before he can think. Virgil’s huge eyes and faintly nauseous look is all he can think about.

Patton sighs. “I’ll talk to him.”

“No,” Roman says suddenly, tearing his gaze away from down the hall to settle squarely on the paternal Side. “I… Thank you, Patton, but I think this is something I have to do.”

…

Virgil’s breaths are coming short and quick. He yanks the hood up over his head and tugs on the drawstrings as he paces in his room. Your fault, your fault, your fault. Virgil feels like screaming. If only he could find his voice.

He hears the quiet whoosh behind him and his heart constricts in alarm. He clenches his jaw. He doesn’t need to turn around to tell who it is. “Roman, what are you doing?” he demands. “It’s not safe for you in here.”

“I just—“

“Get out,” he grits behind clenched teeth.

“Virgil, just talk to me—“

Virgil scoffs and shakes his head. “Damn it, Roman—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Virge.”

Virgil whirls on him. “Didn’t do anything wrong? Didn’t do anything wrong?! I’m supposed to protect you! That’s my job, Roman! And I-I-I…” Virgil’s voice shakes. His chest heaves. “Not only did I fail, but I put you in danger. I nearly killed you! That’s on me.”

“No, hey.” Roman grabs his hand and presses it firmly in the center of his chest. Virgil tries to pull it away like it burns him but Roman holds it steady. Virgil can feel his heartbeat thudding hard and fast against his palm. “You feel that? That’s because of you. Because you saved me.”

“Roman—“

“Listen to me, Virgil,” Roman implores. The desperate earnestness in his voice makes Virgil look up. His protests die on his tongue at the tears pressing against the Prince’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought you into my realm in the first place, and I absolutely should have listened to you when you wanted to turn back. You were right, Virgil. And you were doing everything you could to protect me. And I am so sorry that I couldn’t see that.”

Virgil shakes his head, opening his mouth only to find no words forming.

Roman squeezes Virgil’s hand to his chest a little harder. “I… that monster was the manifestation of your anxiety at its worst. Every nightmare and fear you’d ever had, staring you in the face. And when you were confronted with fight or flight, you chose the first one. At great risk to yourself. For me. You found the strength to overcome it, to fight back, to… I…” His voice catches. He shakes his head, blinking a few times as a tear or two spill over. “You are so brave, Virgil.”

Virgil’s hand fists in Roman’s shirt against his chest. “But… I… it wouldn’t have even been necessary if I hadn’t—“

“This,” Roman cuts in, squeezing his hand against his heartbeat, “is the only thing you should feel responsible for.”

Virgil can feel a sob fighting up his throat as his vision blurs, and he does his best to swallow it down. He squeezes his eyes shut, sending a few of the pooling tears down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Virge. Pulling you into my realm… it caused you tremendous distress. Bad enough to actually take a physical form due to the creation tendencies of my realm. That’s…” The Prince’s voice catches slightly. “I can’t ever forgive myself for putting you through that.”

Virgil shakes his head quickly. He looks up into the other Side’s soft, pained gaze. “No, I… Roman, you didn’t know. Nobody did. And you told me I could turn back whenever I wanted to. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“You said it yourself, Virge,” Roman says. “You’re the protector. So long as I was going to press on, so were you. I should have known that. I should have listened to you, in the very least.”

Virgil wipes at his eyes, ignoring the way the makeup smeared across his fingers. “Why didn’t you?” he asks quietly.

Roman averts his gaze, then closes his eyes. “I…” He sighs, then shrugs helplessly. “I just… I didn’t want you to think I was a coward.”

Virgil feels something deflate inside his chest. “Did you think I was a coward for wanting to turn back?”

“Of course not!” Roman argues vehemently, his eyes flying back to Virgil’s. “That’s not what I meant. I just…”

“Then what?”

“I wanted to feel like you were proud of me!”

From the way the Prince’s eyes widen, he hadn’t meant to say it. His eyes flicker over Virgil’s face, and the Anxious Side isn’t sure what his expression is. He doesn’t know what Roman finds in his face, but the Creative Side squeezes his eyes shut a moment later. Virgil watches a few tears spill down his cheeks.

“For once,” the Prince whispers, “I just… wanted to make someone proud.”

“Roman…” Virgil says, his heart constricting at the look on Roman’s face even as confusion knits his eyebrows together, “I’ve always been proud of you.”

“I… what?” Roman’s eyes open suddenly, locking squarely onto the Anxious Side.

“I’ve always been proud of you,” Virgil repeats with conviction. “I mean, geez, Roman, you’re Thomas’s hopes and dreams. His creativity. Without you, I…. I don’t know where we’d be.”

Roman is shaking his head. Virgil presses on. “All of the obstacles we’ve overcome… you’re a big part of that. I may point out what the obstacles are, but you’re what pushes Thomas to work to overcome them regardless. You give so much of yourself every time Thomas makes new content. You thrust yourself into the spotlight again and again. I couldn’t do that, ever. Of course I’m proud of you, Sir Sing-a-Lot. We all are.”

Roman laughs, but it sounds a lot more like a sob. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil shakes his head. His voice catches in his throat. He coughs and tries again. “So am I.”

The faintest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Roman’s mouth. “We’re both a bit of a mess, huh?”

Virgil barks out a laugh, even as he feels Roman brush a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, we kind of are.”

“I just…” Roman brushes at his own eyes. “I just wish I could fix it. I wish I knew how.”

He looks up at the Prince in front of him, stripped of his normal attire, looking abruptly vulnerable and exposed in just red pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His eyes are dark, the beginnings of eyeshadow only emphasizing the fact. He’s exhausted, and scared, and it makes Virgil equally aware of his own mutual feelings of tiredness and fear.

Virgil focuses for just a moment on the thudding rhythm against his hands.

“Y’know,” he says slowly, “a Prince once said the only direction to go is forward, one step at a time.”

Roman’s chest expands under Virgil’s hand with a deep, steadying breath. The Anxious Side breathes with him.

“I think,” Virgil continues softly, “that’s a good place to start.”

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fille-lioncelle · 6 years ago

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The only remakes i'm into rn are skamnl and druck (tho i didnt watch s1 and s2 of druck, basically same reasons as you) bc they feel very authentic to me. France and italy i tried, but the casting turned me OFF (i hate when they cast obviously older people for hs students, and sadly that happens in tv most of the time. Thats one of the reasons OG was so good and refreshing to me.) I started both isak seasons bc im a hoe for isak, but i couldnt finish either of them bc of that! In the (1/?)

Italian one, i liked the characters i guess, but idek how to explain it, i couldnt get into it bc i didnt FEEL anything?? Maybe the chemistry wasnt working for me.. like when i was watching og s3, i was soooo into it and so emotional, i cried more than once and my stomach was in knots, but i really couldnt get into it with skamit :( at least i tried. For france, i also tried but i also couldnt get into it. It made me feel a lil bit like an american teen show, and i reallllly dont like (2/?)those. They dont feel authentic and theyre very dramatic. Also french is my first language and the way they were talking was making me cringe hella hard lmao, doesnt help. So yea, thats my opinion on those. Hope i dont offend anyone, ik a lot of people love them, just wanted to chit chat :) thats why i prefer nl and druck.. and spain seems like a promising one too but im a bit oversaturated rn lol maybe ill try it later ;) (3/3)

I do really like the more age-appropriate casting as well. It really did feel very refreshing! And I wish all the remakes had stuck to that, but I must confess it doesn’t bother me too much. I just kind of ignore it when I watch it and a friend of mine once said they just pretend it’s set in university instead haha. But I get being turned off by that!

I didn’t feel as affected by the remakes as I did by the OG either, but I think part of that is because I already know the vague story beats. And I did still tear up lol. I’m easy like that. ;) But I did really like the chemistry both between Federico and Rocco and Axel and Maxence. They’re very different, and both different from the OG as well (which is an interesting thing to think and blabber about - how different the interpretation of ostensibly “the same” love story is just by adjusting details and having people look at each other differently - the OG would have been different with any other actors too!), but I did like both of them.

The drama in the French remake bothered me too at first but then I just accepted it because the scenes that were good were so good. And now at least some of that drama has actually paid off/had an impact on the characters and storytelling, so I don’t mind it so much anymore. I disagree with some choices they made, of course, but overall… they did well.

French isn’t my first language, so I can’t judge how cringey the language is, but GERMAN is my first language (though not Germany-German) and let me tell you - the first few clips of Druck were TOUGH to get through. It was just really jarring to hear it in my first language?? A strange thing to get used to. And I feel you on the oversaturation! There comes a point where one has to say “enough” hahaha.

I think it’s perfectly fine to prefer one version to another, anon, so long as you don’t actively rain on other people’s parades! Live and let live and all that. You don’t have to love everything just because it’s associated with Skam!

Thanks for stopping by, anon! I always love a chit chat. ;)

- H

#anon asks #liongirl watches skam remakes

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pantstomatch · 7 years ago

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I really liked how you wrote the a/b/o dynamic in your last fic. It wasn't some thing that overruled and defined everything about the characters, which is so awesome because I doubt many people - Stiles especially - would deal well with that. Anyway, i thought I'd washed my hands with a/b/o fics but it's sucked me back down again. Do you have any fic recs?

thank you so much! that fic was super fun to write, and I loved cramming in all my favorite tropes :) I’m a big fan of a/b/o, idek why, but I love it. I’m sure all the ones I’d rec are well known, but here’s a list of some of my favs in no particular order.

we can take our time by KouriArashi

Tact and social mores are completely relegated to the back of Derek’s brain, and without thinking, he blurts out, “Did you spend your heat alone?”

Stiles’ head jerks around in surprise, and then he flushes pink and looks away. His voice comes out brusque and unfriendly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I spend every heat alone.”

Knot if You Don’t Knock by jsea, marguerite_26

Stiles never expects to present as an omega – that’s something that happens to people like Greenberg, not him. He is so wrong.

His life only gets stranger when Derek Hale mistakenly bursts through the door of his exam room during a doctor’s appointment. What happens next is a complicated series of events, including freshly baked cookies, book-carrying and surprise heats.

Build an Ivory Tower by teot

Stiles didn’t know how Derek sleeping on his floor developed into sleeping in his bed, or how cuddling ended up turning into Derek humping his ass. He didn’t agree to being knotted in the school locker room, either. But what can you do when Derek Hale wants something? He’s the Alpha, after all.

You Smell Like Mine by bleep0bleep, marguerite_26

People talk about the alpha instinct, an alpha’s head being swayed by a nice-smelling omega, or the desire to drop everything and show off. Derek’s never felt any of that. He’s just not that kind of alpha.

Then he meets Stiles.

Say It With Me (Don’t Assume) by orphan_account (I’m pretty sure this is by KuriKuri, does anyone know if this was abandoned on purpose or not, since they’re’ still on AO3 with other fic?)

Derek knows way too much about how omega heat suppressants work now, after having been partnered with Stiles for as long as he has. They’re probably his favorite thing to bitch about whenever they’re stuck on a stakeout. Of course, omegas on the force aren’t required to take them. Derek’s never really understood why Stiles does, if he hates them so much, especially –

– especially because he’s bonded.

#omegaproblems by subnivean

Stiles didn’t need an alpha. He might want one, though.

The Sanctuary by chase_acow

Stiles runs away during his first heat, right into the waiting and ambiguously scary arms of the Alpha’s nephew, Derek Hale. He doesn’t have any choice except to submit, but along the way, he digs up a mystery that threatens his family and even the town’s safety.

Old Traditions, Werewolf Edition by Footloose

Stiles does not work his Omega ass off to attract frat boy Alphas. Absolutely not. He’s at college to get his degree. If he’s crushing on an Alpha who never crosses the lines of propriety, well, no one needs to know, right?

Mix and Match by Jerakeen

Stiles walks into the Beacon Hills alpha-omega mixer with a smile on his face and three condoms in his wallet.

monday i can fall apart but by friday i’m in love by tryslora

It’s just past five in the morning and Stiles is barely awake, wearing only sleep pants that hang low below his pregnant belly, and he can’t get the damned brand new jar of decaf coffee open. But he has a neighbor, and he’s too tired to think that waking someone else up at this hour might not be the best (or politest) of ideas.

Someday Came Today by Fatebegins

“March 2, 1810…Today, I met the man I’m going to marry.”

At the age of eight, Genim “Stiles” Stilinski showed no signs of Great Beauty. And even at eight, Stiles learned to accept the expectations society held for him–until the evening when Derek Hale, the handsome and dashing Alpha of the Hale pack, solemnly kissed his hand and promised him that one day he would grow into himself, that one day he would be as beautiful as he already was smart. And even at eight, Stiles knew he would love him forever.

But the years that followed were as cruel to Derek as they were kind to Stiles. Stiles is as intriguing as the Duke boldly predicted on that memorable day–while Derek is a lonely, bitter man, crushed by a devastating loss. But Stiles has never forgotten the truth he set down on paper all those years earlier–and he will not allow the love that is his destiny to slip through his fingers . .

Rare Books and Special Collections by KuriKuri

Derek Hale hates libraries.

Unfortunately, not all books can be ordered on Amazon.

(Or: in which Derek is a grumpy omega writer, and Stiles is an annoyingly attractive alpha special collections librarian.)

The One With The Mail-Order Brides and A/B/O Dynamics by Stoney

Wolves aren’t meant to be alone. Laura tells Derek this repeatedly. Which… is why Derek knows he’s losing his mind, as Laura has been dead for more than six years. Wolves aren’t meant to be alone.

And so he sends away for a companion. JUST for a companion, not for a mate. The universe, however, has a different plan in store for him.

here comes trouble by grimm

All Derek wants is one day where he can sleep without worry of being woken by gunfire, without the threat of death hanging over his head. He wants a full stomach and no pain clinging to his bones, no ache in his feet from months of running. He wants a shower, a safe place to put his head. He wants his family, the healing comfort of pack. He’ll never have any of that again.

You’re a Mess, But You’re a Catch to Me by jsea

The laws are clear: omegas are required to have an alpha guardian. So when the sheriff gets shot, Derek is roped in to stepping up as Stiles’ temporary alpha while he recovers.

Derek knew it was going to be a bad idea, but he never could have predicted all of the ways that Stiles would end up turning his life upside down.

Worth the Wait by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Stiles always had a thing for Derek, but then again, so did everyone else. Stiles just wanted to be seen as different, which was why he waited.

But maybe he waited a little too long.

Can’t Be Saved (Not So Frail) by weathervaanes

“Kira doesn’t care a wick if you can afford her dresses and bonnets, I’m well aware. It doesn’t change the fact that I have to look after her best interests. I’d like her to be with an Alpha that puts her above all else even if he cannot afford her every luxury.”

Scott looks surprised. “I know you do not know me, sir, but I can promise you that that is my only wish. I—I love Kira quite dearly, and all I want is to provide for her, make her happy.”

“So you will marry off your brother,” Derek says, taking a sip from his drink.

-0-

In which Kira is Derek’s ward, Stiles is Scott’s brother, and omega heat cycles are good for everyone.

Fight Fires In Your Best Clothes by standinginanicedress

The key isn’t actually being confident, he repeats in his head in Lydia’s breathy voice. It’s faking the hell out of it and looking as sexy as possible while you do it. For omegas, it’s easy. There’s a natural charm to all of us that only takes seconds to engage, and barely takes practice.

Walk into the room, he chants in his head. Own it, and look people in the eyes. Find the best looking alpha, have them buy you a drink, and the rest is easy.

Fallen for You by Mynuet

Stiles is not swooning when his hot next door neighbor comes to his rescue. He’s not! Maybe a little.

Survival of the Species by Lissadiane

“I think I’m dying.” Nothing makes sense – and now Derek has left him.

“No, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton says grimly, rooting around in his special cupboard of herbs and remedies. “I’m afraid not. You’re merely suffering from a biological imperative to bear your alpha’s children and strengthen the pack.”

Stiles considers that for a moment, as best he can with his mind a hazy mess, and then he says quietly, “I think that might be worse.”

“So, so much worse,” Scott agrees.

*In which Derek’s pack is apparently stable enough to begin planning for the future, and somehow, the universe has decided Stiles is the perfect candidate to bear his alpha’s children.

i need your sway by thatworldinverted

Stiles always figured it would be Scott who saw him through his first heat. They pinky-swore on it, in fact, when they were eleven and newly-presented. There haven’t exactly been an abundance of offers between then and now.

What there is now, though, is the pack, and pack takes care of each other.

How to Woo Your Local Omega by alocalband

Stiles knows a pity gift when he sees one. Mostly because that’s all he’s ever gotten from anyone since the moment he hit puberty.

I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha’s shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

#anon #replies #fic recs #sterek #a/b/o dynamics #teen wolf

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justa-mysticmess · 7 years ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do an ex's to lovers thing with the RFA+V and Saeran/Unknown? Like they dated and broke up for whatever reason but started falling in love again?

hello dear anon :) it took me a while but i had fun coming up with the silliest scenarios for breakups and how they make up. i was aiming for humor because because it was unspecified. and seven’s got too angsty idek why but it happened though i posted a lighter version of it x3 i really hope this is not too far off from what you were expecting love ^^;;

Yoosung

okay. this boy honestly feels so embarrassed when he realizeswhat’s happening

especially considering the break up was totally his fault andover such a silly matter too!

he had actually prayed to thank god when mc hadn’t left the rfacompletely after yoosung had chosen his games in heated bout over mc

and now he doesn’t know what to do

before he actually confesses again to them

he’s not scared of rejection, because even if mc does it, theywill be mature about it and do it kindly

what he’s scared of is mc actually forgiving him and ending uphurting mc again

the second party after their break up is very successful andeverybody is so proud because it was the biggest they have had yet andeverything went so well

they are all talking excitedly and mc is hugging jaehee inexcitement and considering the occasion, jaehee is also hugging them back andseven joins the hug and pulls yoosung with him and yoosung yells i love you somuch mc you’re amazing!

it’s kind of awkward for a moment, the big hug feeling stiff nowand yoosung realizes he could have said ‘we’ instead of ‘i’ but mc isstarting to smile and seven is on the floor with laughter and jaehee gives hima stern look with a well deserved ‘you have it too easy. do not mess upthis time.’ and mc hasn’t said anything yet but he’s starting to feel lesshorrified and more awed and he feels his throat close up but he has to do itright this time.

if you will have give me one chance, i will do my best to makeyou the happiest person mc! i will never speak before thinking again either!i-i’ll give up lolol if i have to! mc rolls’s their eyes and says he doesn’thave to quit lolol, just be more careful

Jaehee

oh dear! this girl feels so guilty for having ended thingsthen just because she had been paranoidand worried it wasn’t the right time

sure they had both been having personal struggles but everythingwas lovely between them and slowly the other stresses in their lives would besorted. but jaehee hadn’t wanted to risk having a bad fallout with mc

jaehee has all of those problems sorted out now, and with hervision cleared she sees just how bad it had been to break up then, no matterhow much she had thought it was the right thing. she had just assumed doing theright thing hurts sometimes

it’s surprisingly mc who approaches her this time

they are timid and almost spend a good 10 minutes stalling

but jaehee is patient and wishful and a little scared

when they finally stutter out how they still have feelings forjaehee and only dared to approach her because jaehee seems to be much morerelaxed now and she has been saying and doing things when they were togetherand she liked mc like that

jaehee almost smiles when mc stutters to a stop because theyrealized they were blabbering

but mc looks like they’re about to cry or run away or bothand despite feeling relieved at the cute display, jaehee grabs mc’s shakinghands in a firm grip and waits till they look her in the eye

the words come surprisingly easy to jaehee as she answers mc’shalf asked request and confirms that yes, jaehee still likes mc like that andyes, she never stopped liking mc like that throughout and that yes! she wouldlove it if they got together again

Jumin

poor jumin was always very expressive of his emotions andfeelings when it came towards mc

he couldn’t be blamed completely because a lifetime of hidinghis emotions he suddenly learned to share them with someone

there was no holding back on his part

and maybe because he hadn’t learnt to read others emotionsproperly yet he never noticed mc getting sad/upset

he did notice that mc was not very open with their feelings anexpressions, always seeming kind of reserved but jumin was not too upset andwas willing to wait

though he did have a talk or two with mc to see if mc actuallyneeded help or something but mc always playe dit off with a smile telling himto not worry

until one day mc actually had a mini meltdown and broke thingsoff with jumin

that day he learned mc was actually very emotional and thusimpulsive! The reason for break up? mc felt jumin was too sweet and giving anddeserved someone who could show love and give as openly as jumin did

cute as it was, it was jarring for jumin to hear all that from ateary mc and he couldn’t stop them andsuggest them to cool down before they rushed out

they actually make up in about a couple months because mcmanages to admit they were running from all the feelings jumin made them feeland that they felt smothered by all the love they were getting because theycouldn’t give

and jumin understands somewhat and is always careful from thenon to not be too intense with mc and is successfully elarning to get a read ontheir emotions now so he doesn’t say something that is seemingly harmless butmay be too much for mc

Zen

it was zen who dumped mc

mc was shocked and by the time they could speak zen was alreadygone

honestly zen had thought having taken such a big step would bedepressing and help him fall into characters more easily

it had been depressing. but it sure as hell hadn’t helped himperfect his roles as he had thought

the worst thing was he had become so used to mc so quickly hewas starting to get really bad , not even wanting to get out of bed most days

mc would avoid him in the chatroom and they were good at it too,because it had been months since mc had come into the chat at the same time aszen

it is surprisingly jaehee who confronts him and tells him tosettle whatever matter is between mc and him because she wants his flawlessperformances back. of course she is more worried about zen and mc as rfamembers but she doesn’t vocalize it yet

is actually surprised when mc agrees to meet him. lowkey knowsit’s because because v asked them to meet him, but tries not not let it botherhim too much

just as zen starts to talk about how he is sorry and how hefeels, right there in v’s studio because a public place was a bad idea,mc interrupts his speech with a single word, ‘why?’

and zen doesn’t need them to clarify because he damn well knowswhat they mean by that. and the guilt is suddenly twice as heavy as beforebecause it really completely sinks in that damn it! he had not even explainedthe reason to mc

but he knows from the look in their eyes that they won’t listento any excuse he has unless he answers that question

so he answers honestly, no matter how stupid and trivial itsounds now. mc is really not impressed to have been dumped because zen himselfdecided that he couldn’t give mc enough time and attention and that they wouldbe better off without each other- each being able to at least get one thingright in life. their careers

zen apologizes profusely and mc reluctantly agrees when he asksthem out again because he is so sincere and it’s not like they’ve gotten overzen yet

Seven

this boy was so torn!

on one hand the love of his life, his mc, had given him a news which would be the happiest news for normal people.

and perhaps mc somewhat knew what his reaction would be because they were timid and looked almost scared when they told him

but it was like his brain shut down completely as the meaning of what mc said settled in

he immediately broke up with mc

there was no way he could ever be trusted with not one, or two, but three lives! especially one that would be completely helpless and at anybody’s mercy!

mc knew that but even after having just found out about their pregnancy, they refused to not keep the baby. they said as much to him before they packed up their stuff and were leaving

seven took their bags and walked to the garage , knowing mc would follow

the car ride to jumin’s was silent and tense and the body guards let them in, already having been instructed by jumin

he did the right thing. mc would be taken much better care of here than with him this was probably best for them

or so seven tried to tell himself

the guilt was always there in the back of his mind and it honestly didn’t let him sleep. it was just what he deserved, he thought, to get even lesser hours of sleep than he already did

it was really his fault though. all of it. if he couldn’t have been careful, he must at least take responsibility. The process was slow, but seven was warming up to the idea of apologizing and asking mc back. he could try! he could be better than his mom

only, it’s almost a month and he hasn’t heard from mc since

his stomach in knots and heart in his throat, he races in one of his babe’s to jumin’s and rushes to the apartment

he parks in time to see mc trip over an obstacle he doesn’t see in the blur

he rushes out but mc has already hit the ground

seven has never driven that fast and he’s never seen mc that pale but they’re at the hospital within minutes and mc’s being rushed to er

only when the doctors says that everything is fine and that mc might have a concussion does he feel he’s able to breathe

mc looks shocked at his choked question about the baby, but he focuses on the doctor’s response, that the baby was safe for now, but it was been quite dangerous

saeyoung is surprised he is so relieved and he just kneels beside the hospital cot and apologizes again and again to mc and mc actually says it’s okay. that it’s not his fault. he has never been so sad and so happy at the same time

vows to take care of them both and always keep them happy if mc would give him a chance

mc says they don’t have the heart to keep his baby from him but that he must keep his word

he didn’t know he could cry from happiness

poor sweet man was devastated

mc’s birthday was coming up and v was panicking because mc had given him the perfect gift for his birthday

and he couldn’t decide what to get them

if he knew what mc liked, he would have bought the whole list

the problem was! he did not know what mc liked

and it was such a shame for him to not know; of course he could just ask them, but that would give him away

so in fit of angst he broke up with mc

…though a phone call

is so sick of the sadness and guilt and can honestly not even start to forgive himself

what has he done

mc hasn’t even called once and it has been months

one day he gets a visitor at a strange hour

he thinks he’s hallucinating when he opens the door to mc but they just push past him and walk into his place

when he comes back in, they are seated on the couch with a business like air about them

jumin would be proud, v thinks

‘jihyun, you’re not a baby, sweety’, mc starts , and okay this is serious because they called him jihyun and not v

which means they are pissed, despite their polite, almost friendly tone

v takes a seat as they give him a pointed look and clears his throat

looks awed when mc tells him they had given him some time to clear his head and get his thoughts in order because he had sounded so stressed when he had made that call

and to tell them what he felt or what problems he was facing

just after saying that they looked at him curiously, because ‘are we still dating? or was that break up-break up?’

jihyun has honestly never felt so relieved and he just wraps mc in a hug because thank you so much, and yes of course we are dating!

Saeran

it was so crazy for saeran

did he care about mc? yes

did he love them? maybe?

how was he supposed to know when he had never known love all hisdamn life

he also didn’t want to be tied down or depend on mc

but he didn’t want to say it out right

because he knew he would phrase it harshly if he did

so he kept canceling their dates

and mc was persistent because it was after the 6th cancelleddate that they called him, sounding upset and asking him what was worng

not if something was wrong,saeran noted felt a swell of pride at their perception

but he gave a distant answer and mc sounded more upset and askedhim to just answer honestly

‘you want an honest answer?’ saeran snapped ‘well, it goessomething like this: i don’t wanna be tied down, and I certainly don’t wannadate you’

he expected an angry explosion or maybe even for mc to burst outcrying

he did not expect them to hang up as soon as the words left hismouth

he felt somewhat guilty because he obviously really hurt mc, buthe figured it was okay since this way they would have more time to ‘heal’

whoever said that time makes everything better was a fuckingliar and saeran would punch him

because instead of feeling better as days passed after the breakup, saeran kept feeling wrose

when it wasn’t the guilt eating away at him, it was all thoughtof mc- mc this, mc that, how mc liked their egg, how mc hated when their coffeegot a bit too sweet but couldn’t drink it without sugar either, how mc always letsaeran sleep 20 minutes more

it was excruciating

he especially hated when his damn brother would ask about mc notvisiting any more

as if to rub salt to his wound

what he couldn’t understand was how the heck had mc become suchan important part of his life without him having noticed? important enough tohave left a gaping hole and that made saeran feel empty even when doing onlywhat he wanted to all day

his meddling brother started inviting mc over a lot and it wasso awkward because

they were right there

one such day saeran had locked himself in his room when assholesaeyoung barged into his room and pulled him by the hand till he was on thecouch in the living room

and mc was already there and saeyoung conveniently left on anerrand so they could talk

it was awkward but mc asked how he’d been doing and the nextmoment he found himself spilling everything to her and he couldn’t shut hismouth if he tried and now his voice was getting wobbly and mc was getting tearyeyed and this was torture he just wanted to hug mc and hold onto them all day

…turns out he did shut up once he realized he had said the lastpart out loud

at least it made mc laugh

bonus: saeyoung came home to see saeran and mc cuddled up tight andwarm

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger hc #rfa #v #saeran choi

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liannyeong · 8 years ago

Text

letting go (so that you can smile again)

Summary: loving park sungjin has never been easy.

Word count: 2511

Pairing: Sungjin X OC

Warning(s): angst, lapslock, handicapped!Sungjin

A/N: ok it has been more than a month since my last post. i’m so sorry about that. school got me so busy but i’ve got tons of ideas in my head for fics but uhhhh i just don’t have the time to write it all. :’( i just hope the ideas will stay in my head long enough until my exams are over T_T so thus comes this long fic LOL this idea has been egging in my head for so long and tbh, i wanted to make it even more sad but i just can’t???? but then again, idek if this is sad/angst enough. i’m serious. (geddit? HAHA) ok enjoy :D

sungjin lays on the hospital bed, tubes injected into his body on his arms. his breathing is slow and steady, and it scares me that i could lose him. i am afraid of losing him to death. my eyes well up at the thought, but the rustling of the bed sheets pull me from my thoughts. i manage to force my tears back in, glancing at the bed. sungjin shifts his head, before fluttering his eyes open. he blinks once, twice before looking around the ward. his eyes meet mine and i flash a small smile.

"hi, how are you feeling?" i ask lamely.

he scoffs. "probably the worst ever." he fiddles with his thumbs, looking at them instead of me. "i'm guessing my mum told you everything."

i nod, but hum in agreement a while later when i realize he did not turn to look at me. his mother had called me up in the middle of the night, her voice trembling as she broke the news of sungjin's accident. sungjin was driving back home after his date when the car skidded, somersaulted in the air and crashed onto the trees. the night was heavy with rain.

"pathetic, aren't i now?" sungjin says. "in this state..." he looks down at his legs, eyebrows furrowed together. there is a mixture of sadness and fury in his eyes. it is as if there is bound to be an explosion with those emotions jumbled up together.

"hey, at least you're still alive," i say, in hopes it will calm him down a little.

"i'd rather die than live with this pain. a heartbreak first, and now?" he grits his teeth in frustration. he grips onto his leg, digging his nails into it. "i can't feel it!" he chokes out in anger. "i can't walk anymore! my legs are of no use anymore!" he claws his nails into his leg, seething, "she left me because of this!"

tears well up in his eyes and it does not take long for the salty liquid to flow down his cheeks. "do you know what she said? she said she can't bear to look at me in this state. she said... she said she can't bear being with a cripple!" he sobs, before slinging an arm over his eyes. "i hate this so much!"

i surge forward, and the chair gives a little creak. "hey, hey," i start. "it'll be fine. at least you still have your life, and you have tons of other people who loves you."

"i thought i would be fine, even if i had no legs. i thought i would be fine as long as i have her by my side. i gave her my heart, but she could not stand being with a cripple like me. she left using this," sungjin grabs on his leg again, "as an excuse!" his nails dig into the flesh of his leg, forming crescents into it.

"sungjin, please stop. that's enough," i plead. "don't hate yourself for what you've become. it's not your fault."

sungjin's hands go limp and drops to his sides. he lies on his back, eyes staring into the blank ceiling. "leave me. i'm sorry but i want to be alone now," he says before turning his back on me. i sigh internally before standing up. i pull the blanket over his body before making my way to the door.

"if you ever need anything, i'm always here," i say before exiting the room.

visiting sungjin becomes a daily routine. whenever i am free, whether it is only an hour during lunch, i would come down to the hospital and stick by his side. i make sure he eats his meals and gets enough rest. and of course, i would try my best to make him laugh. he needs the happiness he could receive now, after all that happened. he does not smile or laugh as much as before, but i have to keep trying. perhaps there would be a joke or two that would make him clutch his stomach out of pain from laughing.

i pull the door open and shut it gently, so as to not wake sungjin up. mrs park's eyes slowly meet mine from a book in her hands, and she smiles softly at me. she is seated at the corner, probably because sungjin has been asleep for long, for she would always stick by his bed if he is awake. i greet her and she pats on the empty seat next to her, to which i obey her unsaid request.

"it has always been my dream," she begins softly as i take my seat, "to see you and sungjin together." i raise my eyebrows in alarm, surprised at her comment. then i frown, confused at her words.

"but we have always been together since we were children," i say.

mrs park shakes her head. she pats my thigh and rests her hand on it. "that's not what i meant, dear." she shifts her body to face me, such that our knees knock together. "i have always wanted the both of you to stay together as a couple."

my eyes go wide, and i swore my eyeballs could have popped out of my eye sockets. i want to say something - anything - but my mouth stays shut out of disbelief. my hands are clasped tightly, my fingernails digging into the skin between my knuckles. it hurts, but i just need something to hold on to. why would mrs park think that way? i never did show my affections for sungjin in any way. i have always tried my best to make it extremely subtle, or better, non-existent. how could mrs park even figure it out then?

"i want you to marry him," mrs park says again, and if the earlier words got my eyeballs out, this sentence has my insides out. i open my mouth to protest but she holds her hand up to silence any words at all. i close my mouth and watch her carefully. she takes my hands into hers, rubbing circles on the back of my hand with the pad of her thumbs. "i've always wanted the both of you to tie the knot. but sungjin always has his eyes on someone else. he's blind to see what's right in front of him, what is there for him."

"but why me?" i question, my tone raised high. there is a rustling sound of the bed sheets and i hush myself. once sungjin seems to be unmoving again, i lean closer and protest in whispers, "surely, there's other girls who are better than me! and besides, he wouldn't agree to this! he wouldn't want it either! he would want someone he truly loves! not a friend like me!"

mrs park shakes her head again. "my dear, i see the way you look at him, and the way you care for him. it's all genuine - full of love. i can see it in your actions and in your words, that you really love him."

"but-"

mrs park shushes me. "one day, he would find himself lost without you. trust me on this. you're the one he's got. you're the one he can fall back to. you're his safe house, but he doesn't know it."

"but still-" i try to argue.

"no buts," she concludes. her eyes soften and she pats the back of my hand again. "i'll persuade him."

"how are you with sungjin?" mrs park asks when the whole park family comes over one day. we are in the kitchen, preparing food for a family dinner. sungjin is in the living room, and it is the first time in months that i see him smiling wide and laughing his heart out. my heart swells at the sight, however, i smile along. at least he has not lost his ability to feel happiness. i turn back to mrs park and force a smile.

"fine," i lie. i feel my eyes being pricked but i force myself not to tear up. i try to bottle my feelings up and bury them deep into the depths of my heart. but mrs park look at me with worry. she knows.

she washes her hands and dries them, before placing one on my back, softly patting and rubbing it interchangeably. "it'll be okay. every married couple has fights."

the tears that i tried so hard to hold in pours out. i hang my head low, trying to block my face from being seen. no one knows the truth about my relationship with sungjin. we are not even on speaking terms. he has been treating me coldly ever since the idea of our marriage was proposed. no one knows about it, because he has been pretending in front of others. little did everybody know, that he has been hurling harsh words at me. he pushed me away when i tried to assist him from his wheelchair to his bed. he shunned me away whenever he can. he treats me as if i am a rock with no feelings. and now, he has been ignoring me and avoiding me like a plague. even worse, he thinks i am invisible.

"it'll be fine," mrs park's calming voice snaps me from my thoughts and her soft patting brings comfort to my heart. but like a broken dam, everything in me flows out.

i shake my head, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. "it's all a mistake. this marriage shouldn't have happened. he would've been way happier without this marriage. he would've been way happier without me."

mrs park shushes me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. she gently pushes my head into the crook of her neck, consoling me like how a mother does to a crying child. "don't say things like that. it'll all work out soon. it may not be now, but it will all be fine in the end. you just have to keep trying."

but she does not get it. i have tried. and it all failed.

winter left but sungjin is still as cold as ice. nothing is working out. the house feels nothing like a home. there is no comfort in the apartment, no love in the air. days go by like a train, zooming past me without stopping. time do not wait for me, and i feel suffocated with everything that is happening.

the 16th of january comes and i decide to surprise sungjin.

"sungjin," i call his name, which feels heavy on my tongue somehow. his eyes are fixed on the television in the living room, and he does not even respond. i call him once again and he lets out an annoyed sigh. he swings his head and glares up at me.

"what?" he asks, tone harsh.

"it's your birthday today," i answer, hiding his present behind my back.

"so?"

"i have a gift for you."

sungjin huffs and rolls his eyes, but he leans back in his wheelchair, waiting. i kneel before him, gazing up at his face. but there is indifference in his eyes. there is no excitement or anticipation in his eyes. perhaps he would not like any of my gifts anymore. but hopefully, he would be happy with this one.

i free one of my hand and places it atop of his. he pulls away immediately, as if my touch burns his skin. as if my touch is dangerous to him. it hurts to be treated this way, but i gather my strength and hold myself up. "sungjin, i know times have been tough for you this past whole year. and i know that you hate everything that has happened." tears pool in my eyes and i try to blink them away. i do not want my sight to be blurred by my tears. i do not wish to miss the look on his face. i want to see that smile on his face once more. "and so, this present for you, i hope, will bring the happiness you wanted for so long."

i hand the package to him. sungjin takes it without hesitation, and opens it. he does not look at me at all, but i watch his face every second. he pulls out the contents and-

there, his eyes widen a little and he glances back at me. his eyes seem to be searching for answers in mine, but i just smile. i smile, even though i'm falling apart inside.

"i couldn't think of a better gift than this. isn't this what you wanted from the start?" i say as i gaze up at him. he is still staring into my eyes, out of disbelief or happiness, i do not know. "your nightmares would all be over with this."

i clutch onto the hem of my shirt. i close my eyes tight, trying to calm myself. i swallow a lump in my throat. tears are threatening to fall but i try to keep myself together. i chant to myself words of comfort. like a mantra, i chant that it will all be okay again.

sungjin hands it all back wordlessly. i avoid glancing at it, looking up into his eyes, forcing a sincere smile. "i wish you all the happiness you can get, sungjin."

he nods curtly and his eyes flick back to the television, with no indication of remorse. i take it as an indication to leave, so i head to my room, shutting the door behind me. i take a deep breath, before peeking at my hand. all at once, pain spreads through my heart and it feels as if it has been crushed and trampled over. my legs feel weak and i let myself slide to the floor, my tears spilling out endlessly. i have expected this to happen, but it still hurts so bad. i have prepared myself for this but it is too overwhelming. nonetheless, i can never blame him for hating all of this - for hating me. indeed, i have brought chaos and unhappiness in his life. sungjin has always thought i married him out of sympathy for his inability to walk, but he does not know my true heart at all. he has always believed in the concept of eternal love. he believes that marriage is an everlasting bond between two people who loves each other with all of their hearts. however, our marriage is not like that.

so it is natural that i should remove myself from the equation.

and he agrees with it too:

the divorce papers have been signed.

loving park sungjin has never been beautiful, with all the torned pieces of my heart from the wars he put me through.

loving park sungjin is like walking barefoot on broken shards, coupled with the hottest fires of hell. every step i take brings nothing but torture to myself. every single step i take brings pain. and so it is time to walk down a different path.

it is time to let go.

#day6 #day6 scenarios #day6 sungjin scenarios #day6 sungjin #day6 park sungjin #park sungjin scenarios #sungjin scenarios #day6 park sungjin scenarios #sungjin #park sungjin #p: sj/oc #c: 2k

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