#nobody is more worthy than anyone else
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girl4music · 8 months ago
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I love seeing characters on TV shows breaking the law to do good things. Helpful things. Justful things.
That sentence is so odd to say but sadly it’s the truth.
Because… as Xena taught me. There’s a big difference between what justice is and what the law is.
And we should never wait around for justice.
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queenie-the-court-jester · 8 months ago
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Love isn't dead
Yandere cupid x reader
Tw: yandere, minor mention of body horror, obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation
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💌you couldn't remember when he first appeared or when you could feel another presence near you. All you knew was that you had a cupid trying to set you up.
💘always nonchalant when you'd open a closet door and he'd be hiding inside. Pausing to stare before continuing to put the towels away. He swore you could see right through him and at him at the same time. But that shouldn't be possible. Because humans can't see cupids. They're not supposed to
💌but that obviously wasn't the case with you. Sweetheart quickly became more bold. Watching you quietly and forgetting his task of finding your soulmate. It got to a point where you blatantly confronted him after you finished bathing, noticing a pair of pink heart eyes staring at you from the top of the shower curtain half way
"are you going to keep staring at me like a creep or are you going to actually introduce yourself?"
"gah-!! Ah.. uh right! Ofcourse! I-im sweetheart! Pleasure to meet you!"
💘after Introducing yourself, you set some ground rules. 1. Don't watch you while you shower, use the bathroom, or sleep 2. Don't Invade your space 3. He can't stalk you while you're out and about
💌at first he followed these rules, nodding obediently and following them diligently. But then he noticed something.. when did you become so beautiful? He swore you were more beautiful than his mother.. so kind and patient, he almost didn't want to finish his job, just stay here with you forever. Offering him food, caring for him, giving him hugs and cheek kisses. He wanted more.
💘he broke your rules, but he never let you find out. He'd never want to upset you! Having gotten better in hiding, he silently watches from the shadows. taking things he's sure you won't notice. All he talks and asks about now is what you like, what you're thinking of or if you got your eye on anyone. Claiming it's because he's curious about humans
💌 growing possessive, he uses one of his hate arrows whenever a suitor tries to approach you. How dare they try and take what was his! Can't they see you're too perfect for them!? He saw everything else as inferior to you, nobody was worthy to see your smile. A god/dess among rubbish.
💘he started using his arrows to distance your loved ones, until he was all that you had left. Comforting you, holding you close, wiping away your tears. He felt a foreign burning feeling in-between his legs whenever he saw you cry. Wanting nothing more than to lick them up but he knew you would consider it weird
💌he didn't dare use a love arrow on you, he wanted to see you. The real you at all times. Ignoring the angry calls his mother and siblings would send him, urging him to finish his job and come back home. So he did something he never would have thought of doing. Something irreversible. He cut off his wings, turning him mortal
💘he smiled up at you with a lovesick grin, while you could only stare at him in horror. You had just gotten back from a miserable day at work and stumbled into the bathroom to find it bloody and covered in familiar pink feathers. Slowly walking backwards, glancing at the small bones of where his wings use to be, sticking out. Bloody and mangled.
"this is all for you.. don't you see? I'M your soulmate! We were made for eachother my darling! So let's be together forever.."
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sageryuri · 7 months ago
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NEW YOU, JAKE SIM.
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pairing jake sim + afab!reader.
genre fluff, angst, smut.
summary all hell breaks loose when you, the heir to the throne, decides to run away to begin a new life. luckily, you experience a surprise encounter with jake sim, which brings upon freeing adventures and sprouts a taboo relationship between a princess, and a poor criminal.
word count 10.7k (unedited).
warnings i’m sorry for the beomgyu slander 😔, jake refers to reader as princess as much as he can really, suicide mentions, family toxicity, NSFW MINORS DNI!!! (fingering fem!receiving, handjob, oral male!receiving, unprotected sex, light choking), death mentions.
an tis here!! took me awhile but i always prevail. ty for all the support <3
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Royalty never lived up to the expectations that outsiders had anticipated. None of the money, gowns and experiences would live up to what those people would always have — complete freedom.
They could travel whenever they desired, do what activities they desired, be with who they desired; ultimately being who they wanted to be. You were stuck on the inside of a kingdom, and despite its tremendous size, it could never live up to the feeling of adventuring outside of the castle walls.
You had been unsure what you had done wrong to deserve something so terrible, but you had been enforced into a marriage that you would never agree to. In fact, they were so enthralled by this marriage, that you were not allowed to leave the premises so you couldn't meet anyone else until you had fallen in love.
Though, you don't think anyone could fall in love with Choi Beomgyu. He was idiotic, vain, rude and every other possible negative adjective you could think of. Even those who matched his asininity would barely be able to cope in his presence.
However, you sense you're the only one who doesn't fall for his 'charms' since everyone else seems to fawn over him whenever he appeared. Of course, you had to be the one who would in be betrothed to him in the end.
You had simply had enough.
As it was, you weren't a fan of your life before the marriage had been finalised. You weren't suited to the position of a queen nor did you want to follow that lifestyle. All that you wanted was the opportunity to be free.
What could be any better than making a plan to run away?
This was probably the fifth ball you had attended this month; you weren't sure why they had them so much, because they all had the same step-by-step procedure as if it was some form of experiment.
You would watch as your parents made their way around, greeting the same people, the same way, as if they hadn't seen each other a week ago. It was comedy-worthy how absolutely fake every single person here had been.
Within minutes of being there, you had already made your way over to the buffet table where your only friend, Julia, had been encouraged (practically scolded by your mother) to stand.
Her mother had been your babysitter as a child since it was rare your parents would find the time to actually spend any moments with you. Julia was the same age, so had grew up alongside you. It was interesting how opposite both of your lives had turned out to be despite being brought up by the same person, just with different blood.
"God, this is just as boring as I'd imagine it to be. Look at them all, it's like a food chain. I'm shocked nobody had cracked yet." You stand next to her, avoiding the gaze of everybody else in the room as you usually would.
"You shouldn't speak that way, you never know who is listening in." Julia had always been nervous when it came to your public conversation, considering she'd likely receive more of a punishment then you would, however, she leans into you more, "I would have to agree though. I could not point out a singular person who genuinely looks interested in their conversation."
"I mean, look at that herd of girls over there. They've been squawking with each other all evening, but I definitely saw Emily pointing fingers at Destiny last week." You nod your head towards the group that stood near the entrance, all chatting with one another as if they wouldn't talk behind each other's backs any other time of day.
Your eyes shift along, expecting to find another group of people to roll your eyes at, instead encountering quite a surprise. There's a servant that you don't quite recognise; brown shaggy hair, the same familiar white uniform that appears to be loose fitting, but seems to still look just right.
Surely, you think, you would have remembered someone like him.
"Julia, do you recognise him? I'm not quite sure he's ever been here before." You ask, she looks in your direction with furrowed brows as she takes in the man that you're looking at. She squints her eyes, thinking, then shakes her head.
He hadn't done anything to imply he was up to something suspicious, but you had a strange feeling about him. Feeling entranced by him, you try to think of a normal excuse so that you could speak with him — but your parents get to you first.
"Darling! Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere!" She beams at you, rather fabricated considering her eyes seem to be filled with annoyance since you had been staying distant from her the entire ball.
Unfortunately for you, Beomgyu slides into the conversation with his horrifically flirtatious smile that only forms disgust in your mind. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on it; Julia stifles a laugh when you side-eye her.
"It's nice to see you again, my love." He smirks at you, your mother almost clapping her hands in excitement as she watches, "Care to dance?"
Your mind searches for any excuse to refuse his offer, but your mother's fiery gaze barely gives you the option to think. You hate to be like everyone else in the room, but you give your best smile and place your hand into his.
Considering this would be your last time making your mother happy, you may as well allow it to happen.
The moment you reach your bedroom, you fall into your bed with a long groan. To be expected, the dress and makeup had taken at least an hour to remove, reaching almost one AM by the time you were in your chamber.
Minutes later, Julia wanders in her room for her 'nightly duties' — gossiping with you after a exhausting day. She conforms to you, jumping on your bed as you had.
"You look worn out- well, I'm not surprised after that." When she says that, you know she's referring to the excruciating dance that you had the dishonour (to yourself) of taking part in, "How was that enchanting dance?"
"I'm not sure if he was nervous or it was just natural, but his hands were incredibly sweaty! Normally I wouldn't judge, but surely you wouldn't hold someone's hand for that long when they're practically slipping off." Julia bursts into laughter at your response, tears spilling from her eyes.
You're going to miss Julia. In honesty, she was the only person that could keep you here and you wish you could take her with you. It would be too dangerous and risky, so you would have to give her the best.
"Julia... I was hoping you could help me with something." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and she looks at you expectingly, eyes boring into yours, "I'm really not sure how you will take this thought of mine, but it's truly what I think will be the best. I want to leave, and go far way."
Her mouth opens, no words to be spoken but it is clear she has many things to say.
"I know I should have mentioned my feelings to you earlier, and I am sorry for my selfishness. This is something I need, and I want your help, if you could." You look at her with hope, praying that there was something that she could do for you.
She sighs.
"I know a way that you'll be able to leave, quite easily." She states, she watches as your eyes light up and you become more absorbed in the conversation, "I know that they don't allow you to go into the basement of the castle. It's because there's a passageway through and door that leads through to the outside. It hasn't been used in many years."
In your mind, you recall every time someone had tensed up or began stuttering over their words whenever you got too close to that basement door. It was as if they knew that you had been planning to do something drastic, such as running away.
"How on earth would I get there if they're so cautious about me going in? It doesn't sound too wise." You sit up from your previous position, walking over to your wooden desk to take a seat. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, you question whether this was possible.
"Well... At particular times of the day, the guards leave their stations. Usually during your late dinners, actually- and around 4AM in the morning when they begin preparing for you to awake. If you can get out of the diner tonight, I'll show you." She whispers under her breath at you, just in case anyone had been deciding to listen in at the wrong time.
You have never hugged someone as tightly as you had with Julia. Within minutes, you had gone from having zero idea of how to get to your own paradise to having a knight in shining armour that so happened to be your best friend.
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The dinners with your family were the worst part of being a royal; you had to spend an extended amount of time with them. Despite being your blood, they never felt like they were. Realistically, they likely didn't care for you that much, you were created for an alliance.
Even if it hadn't been explicitly stated, there was no doubts that it was the reality.
If you had to admit anything, the dining hall was gorgeous. The walls are as tall as can be, painted portraits and landscapes scattering every wall. Candles are sporadically placed around the room, as well as in the large hanging chandelier.
However, the gigantic table in the centre just made the dinners much more awkward.
"I see you talked with Prince Beomgyu at the last ball. I'm glad the two of you are getting along well." Your father speaks up for the first time during your dinner and to no surprise, it's involving mentions of your 'future' marriage partner.
"Barely..." You mumble under your breath, just loud enough for them to be able to hear, but low enough that they were unable to tell it was intentional.
You needed a reason to be able to leave, since they would never allow you to go to your room when you wanted to. On many occasions, you remember how whenever you argued or became upset, they would just let you to leave so they would't have to acknowledge the needed confrontation.
"Why can't you just be kind to him? He has done nothing but treat you right and you have hardly said one word to him." Your mother places her cutlery down and glares at you, as if you were someone she had become enemies with.
Just one more day.
"Me and all the other women he has been trying to court. I'm going to bed, I'm not hungry anymore." You retort back, standing up and storming your way out of the room. As expected, they don't follow you or say a word.
Quickly, you walk back to your room to see Julia already waiting inside for you, "We have to move fast. We have enough time but I'd rather we get in and out so we don't get caught, if all goes well, you could get out tonight." Julia grins with mixed emotion; ecstatic you're finally getting what you deserve, upset that she'll likely never see you again.
"I don't think I could ever thank you enough, I love you, Julia." You want to give her another tight hug, but there is not enough time in the day. Instead, she pulls you along to take you to the sacred basement floor.
Your heart thumps harshly in your chest as you stand in front of the door. Julia pushes it open slowly to avoid loud creaks and squeaks.
As slow as you can, you walk down the stone stairs that lead down to the basement. It is barely lit, just bright enough to be able to see where you are placing your feet on the stairs. Eventually, you reach a dingy room that is filled with miscellaneous items.
"I... don't see a door anywhere." Your eyebrows furrow as you walk around the room, squinting through the darkness in order to try and find this supposed door. In fact, you don't think you can see any other way out of the basement apart from the door you had entered from.
"It's hidden for a reason, look here." Julia remarks, you turn around to look at where she is standing. She taps her foot onto a particular area of the floor, which appears to sound more hollow than the rest of it.
The floor isn't easy to see, so you get onto your knees in order to touch around, feeling how the stone flooring feels like wood instead. With a large grin, you stand up and hug Julia one last time.
"You go back to your room now so that they don't see you down here, I can think of an excuse for myself if anything happens. It's already unlocked and goes straight out." She pulls back, her hand resting on your cheek, "If this is the last I see of you, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're my closest friend and I hope I'll get to see you again in the future, much happier than you are now."
When your eyes begin to fill with water, you make your way back up the stairs and towards your bedroom and attempting to look as innocent as possible. Patiently, you watch the hours on the clock go by.
You begin to feel like the moment isn't real; not when it reaches 3AM and your hands are shaking against your door handle. The large door feels more intimidating than usual, as if it had started to grow along with your draining anxiety throughout the waiting process.
Hastily, you move through the many corridors without giving another thought because you may just second guess yourself and decide this was not your smartest idea.
As Julia has reassured you, you didn't bump into any of the royal guards — you realise they aren't the greatest, since they appeared to be nowhere in sight. You likely could have done this months ago when you began considering the idea.
This is the quietest you had ever heard the expanse of the castle to be, if it had been this way all the time, you would have liked it more. Instead, you were stuck with the family talking your ears off every second like nails on a chalk board.
You reach the basement, feeling around on the floor until you find the door again. A proud smile appears on your face when you feel the handle, though as you're pulling it up, someone or something on the other side seems to be opening it too.
"Huh?" You gasp out, almost flinging backwards when the door opens at lightening speed, revealing a very familiar face, "It's you!"
You remember him perfectly, his face was hard to forget. Opposed to his clean appearance when you had seen him at the ball, he looks muckier and he definitely wasn't wearing royal attire this time.
"Who the hell are you?" His expression displays confusion and his voice is almost aggressive, as if he isn't the one coming in from the outside; despite the tone, the thick accent that is diversely different from your own sticks out to you clearly. No one in the area sounded as he did.
"Me? Why on earth are you sneaking into the castle? Do you have a death wish?" You whisper-shout at him, mirroring his distress towards you. He doesn't respond, looking just as baffled as you are, "How long have you been doing this for? God, the security here is dreadful."
Suspecting you had been too loud because the man before you interrupted the original plan, as you had likely done to him, the sound of feet thundering above you caused your stomach to drop and your body to freeze up.
"Shit, shit, shit!" His eyes widen and he examines the room, biting his bottom lip when he can't think of anything. He sighs and puts his attention back on you, "Whatever you're doing, make your decision now or you're dead meat. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."
He holds his hand out towards you, urging you to take it so he can help you down into the pathways below you. After a mere thought of going back and the sound of banging on the basement door, you close your eyes and take his hand into yours.
The path becomes a blur the faster he pulls you through, but you feel a weight lift of your shoulders the further you are away from that door. Finally, you feel the cold breeze of the outside, a simple experience that you had not truly felt in many months.
You don't think you could explain to another human how incredible you felt in the moment, and with the adrenaline pumping through your body you couldn't feel any better.
Eventually, your running comes to a halt when you're dragged into a run-down cottage hidden behind moss, grown out leaves and grass. It's nothing, minuscule, compared to your old home, but you like it.
Funnily, you had almost forgotten about the man who had saved your skin, now panting with his hands on his knees. He stands straight after a minute or so, looking you in your eyes that are as wide as a deers in front of headlights.
"This, uh, this isn't where I live. I just come here when I finish up my business, which you impolitely interrupted. You want to tell me what you were doing? You seemed pretty desperate to get out of there." He walks over to a desk next to the bed, which was on the verge of falling apart, and pulls out a handkerchief from the open draw.
Even though his own face was covered in dirt and sweat, he makes his way over to you and dabs away at whatever had made its way onto yours. Then, he shoves it into his back pocket before stepping back from you.
"I'd much rather know your name first. You know, you don't make yourself appear very trustworthy being so sneaky." You fold your arms over each other, giving him an accusatory look. In return, he just laughs and you look away so you wouldn't feel hypnotised by his smile.
"You're very feisty. I'm Jake, Jaeyun, whatever you want to call me. Now, you." Now knowing his name, you think that it fits him flawlessly; you wouldn't attach any other name to his pretty face.  There is a chair next to the desk which he pulls out to take a seat on, pointing his hand out towards the bed.
You noticed he had a habit of using gestures instead of his words.
"Well Jake, it's nice to meet you." The bed isn't comfy at all, but you know you should appreciate there is even one in front of you in the first place, "I needed to leave, my parents didn't really put me in the best situation, so I took it upon myself to get out of it before it was too late."
"Well, shit. You're the princess aren't you? You're worth a lot of money, you know." When you don't laugh, eyes somehow becoming even wider than they were previously, he shakes his head while he stands to place a hand on your shoulder, "I'm joking, don't look so terrified. The bed won't be up to your standards, but you're free to sleep and we'll figure something out for you in the morning."
"What about you? Mustn't you sleep?" You question, you still feel uncomfortable sitting on the bed, not wanting to attempt to sleep while he is wide awake near you. Not that you didn't trust him, but it only made you feel more awkward.
"I'll be okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to chuck you out while you're sleeping, you can breathe. And don't be so tense, you can trust me, princess." He grins at you, the light from the lantern made him look ethereal, though your heart still beats fast with conflicted feelings.
The conversation ends there, he turns the chair around the face the desk which was opposite the bed. You aren't sure what he is doing, but you feel better with him looking away. Hesitatingly, you find yourself falling into a light sleep, being awoken by the slightest noise.
You don't sleep very well that night.
The pain in your back is hard to ignore, you aren't so used to having such a springy and old bed. For a second, you expect to see Julia opening up the door to your chamber, but you are instead met with Jake walking back through the rusty door.
"Good morning, princess. I brought you some new clothing back, I imagine that cute nightgown of yours isn't so comfortable for the day." Jake holds up some clothing, what your parents would refer to as 'peasant attire'. You can feel your cheeks heat up since you had forgotten you had left wearing your nightgown in a rush.
"Thank you... for the- for the fresh clothing. I appreciate your kindness." Happily, you take the clothing from his hands. They're warm, as if they had been laid in front of a fireplace for a few hours. The new feeling of warmth after having to be used to the cruel, cold cottage brings you joy.
"No worries, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you when you're ready." You reply silently to him, with a nod of the head, then leave to go into what appears to be a bathroom.
In the mirror, you see what the last day had done to you. There's only specs of dirt left on your face, you imagine it had been significantly worse before Jake had cleared it away. Bags under your eyes show clear, causing you to let out a long sigh.
Having to get used to no longer being pampered and cared for anymore was looking harder than you anticipated. You had barely considered the cons of your actions. After a few moments of processing the past day and making yourself appear more presentable, you leave the bathroom to see Jake waiting for you, reading a book.
"I can take you somewhere that's alot safer than here. It's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's probably the best you're going to get for now." Jake places the book down and diverts his eyes to you. His eyes rack over your body, not in a sexual manner, just to examine the fitting of the clothing.
"Could you tell me what you meant by 'business'? I haven't associated myself with those people for a long time, so I won't get you into any trouble. I don't mean to intrude, but you practically know my story." Anxiously, your hands clasp in front of you and you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes yet.
"Well, I guess I'll trust you. Me and my family aren't very well off, if you couldn't tell. It's not east to get jobs, and even the boys who do have jobs barely get a penny." He sighs, you begin to feel bad for asking, "Surprisingly, assigned waiters and waitresses get paid enough for us to afford what we need and I'm nimble enough to get in there and fake the job. I wouldn't have done it without Julia."
Your brain short-circuits and your head shoots up to look at Jake. Confused, he looks between you and the wall at the sudden change in body language, waiting for you to speak.
"Julia? You know Julia? We were close and she never mentioned you, she even acted like she didn't know you when I asked. Did she not trust me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you start to question yourself, and everything that you had experienced.
Jake only grins at your concern and shakes his head in disagreement.
"She was always so cautious, I did tell her not to bring this up, I'm sure she was worried of others listening. She helped me- alot. Wouldn't have done any of this without her.” He reassures you, the two of you decide to end this particular conversation there.
Thinking back to his proposition, you collect whatever you have left of your belongings and place them into a straw bag which had been placed next to the bed. Jake nods towards the door with a barely noticeable smile.
The door opens and you wince at the sun burning into your eyes. It radiates through your skin when you take your first step outside. Your hands grip harder onto the bag as you follow behind Jake to your next stop in your journey.
Neither of you take it upon yourself to start conversations. You don't have a problem with him and he has no issues with you, but it's obvious that there was a silent agreement that you would try and help each other and part ways.
At least that was how you had taken the last few hours. This was a new, blooming path for you, and you couldn't allow anyone to hold you back. No matter how much you may start to enjoy Jake's company, he had a family he cared deeply for and you had places you wanted to go.
After an hour or two, stopping off for the occasional rest, you encounter another cottage. Larger than the last, and taken care of. Flowers grow all around in bright colours, the brick the cottage is made out of being painted a gorgeous beige and darkened smoke peering out of the chimney.
After being at awe at how beautiful you found the cottage to be, you then see two younger boys tending to a garden filled with various fruits and vegetables. They look up, confused by your presence, but their faces light up once they see Jake.
"Jae, You're back! We were starting to get a little worried about you." They both come running towards Jake, diving into his arms as he hugs them closely to his body. You can't help but smile at the love for each other that beams from them — you almost begin to feel jealous.
"I have a come back rate of 100%, I'm invincible at this point, Won." Jake places light kisses on the top of their heads, and then their attention lands on the elephant in the room, you, "Yeah, uh, this is a recent friend of mine."
Once you give your name to his brothers, they seem to put the puzzle pieces together. The taller ones jaw drops while the other's eyebrows fall into anger.
"Sim Jaeyun what the hell have you gotten yourself into! Heeseung is going to be furious!"
Heeseung was in fact furious.
The eldest had spent about twenty minutes stalking around the cottage's main room rebuking Jake for doing something so impulsive, like allowing the runaway princess to take refuge in their home without speaking with the rest of them.
You almost stood up to leave them alone due to feeling rude and awkward, but Jake and his brother’s Jongseong and Riki were adamant on letting you stay since you had nowhere else to go. Somehow, they convinced the rest of them.
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Over the month you had been living with the seven boys, something in your mind had switched. In such a short amount of time, all of them had become prominent figures in your life and it felt like you had been there forever.
One thing that you couldn't push through was the different between how you felt about Jake compared to the rest of his brothers. The touches between you both always lingered longer and you would always notice the way he would watch you while Jungwon taught you how to correctly tend to the garden.
It was a quiet day, most of the boys were tired and taking the hours to rest, most of them sleeping apart from Sunoo who silently read a book at the dining table, and you who had been sowing away to a shirt Sunghoon had accidentally ripped.
The constant silence, apart from the sound of pages turning and the fire crackling, was broken by a loud yawn as Jake opens his bedroom door. Sunoo doesn't spare him a glance, but you look up from your needle and thread to give the man a sweet smile.
"Good morning- well, afternoon, princess." He beams, making his way over to you. Both of his hands lay on either side of your shoulders and it takes everything in you not to tense up at the sudden touch.
"What did I say about calling me princess, Jaeyun?" You murmur, still trying to concentrate on the shirt in front of you. Jake's head is now placed upon yours, and you wonder if he's trying to or is blissfully unaware that he's flustering you to the highest degree.
"That I should stop calling you princess- but it suits you so well! And I think you should keep calling me Jaeyun, I like it." He replies, you roll your eyes and give up with your task. Jake moves away from you, so you turn around in your chair to face him.
"I'll think about it." You smirk at him, he opts to sit next to you and lay his head onto the table as if he had still been tired, "I thought you would be sleeping all day."
"Well... I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride in our sailing boat. I could teach you how to use it. It's too warm for me to sleep." He responds, his head being hidden in his arms consequently leaves you unable to see the pink shade that spreads across his cheeks.
"That would be nice, I've always wanted go ride in a boat- my parents never let me do anything." Finishing up, you finally stand from the chair to stretch your legs, cracking your fingers due to the ache in them.
"You can do anything that you want now. They'll always be looking for you, but we can get you far enough that they won't be able to find you." Jake purses his lips, looking away from you before continuing, "Though you’re always welcome to stay here."
"You know that I can't." You hadn't meant to sound so cold.
Jake becomes more and more despondent every time you reject his offer of staying with him. The others boys had grown fond of you, just as he had, you were safe and free from the sickening hold of your biological family.
Alas, you wanted excitement over tranquility.
The lake behind the house could have been the most perfect sight. Somehow, the water had stayed as clean as it could be, you could see the bottom of the shallow areas. What you liked the most was the natural decoration of trees and flowers, moments like this could convince you to stay.
As expected, the boat is still attached to the pier. It was rare they ever used it, often just fishing from the pier itself, but the warm day warranted a little change.
You and Jake walk side by side in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grew to enjoy. Over years, you had gotten used to constantly being surrounded by noise that the serenity of the cottage on rest days felt strange — you never got rest days.
At first, any kind of silence was uncomfortable, though you hardly realised it had become pleasant.
Jake gets into the boat, holding out his hand to carefully help you in. He leans over to reach for the oars, and you take a seat across from him, "How am I supposed to teach you from all the way over there?"
"Where else am I supposed to go?" You raise an eyebrow at him. He shows off a flirtatious smirk and pats the little area that is left in front of him.
Jake did a brilliant job at making you frantic; you'd never experienced a relationship such as this, apart from Beomgyu, who you would rather never hear of again.
Slowly, you take your seat in front of him, back pressed snugly against his warm chest.
"Hold tight, I'll hold my hands over yours and show you how to do it properly." The two of you seem to be holding hands a lot lately. He tries to hold your hands as daintily as he could to ensure his tight grip wouldn't hurt you, and begins to row, "You're a natural."
"I guess I'm simply just good at everything." You joke, and you finally let the stiffness in your body go, moving with your thoughts to distract yourself, "I wonder how Julia is doing... I feel awful for having to leave her."
You had worried for Julia every single day. There had been no news, at least not that the boys had heard of yet; by now, you expected a large-scale search where guards and soldier would be loitering around every corner, but not one had been seen in the area. You wondered if she was safe.
"You had no choice. I'll always wish her the best, she really did everything she could for me, for us. We had a real hard time last year." He replies, staring off into the distance as he continues to row the boat, you're barely putting in any effort.
"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Whenever it seems to come in to conversation, everyone gets quiet and moves on." You ask, almost hesitantly.
Parts of you disliked that you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. It wasn't your business, and a topic they had been evading conversation about since it happened. Though you cared about them, and want to take care of them.
"We were really struggling, the worst it had been. It was like everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. We had no food and we were freezing. There was a lot of pressure on all of us, and I guess Hoon just couldn't take it anymore. I had to jump in to pull him out of the water and I can still remember how hard he had sobbed in my arms."
"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry. None of you deserved that kind of life, you're all so loving and kind. I'm glad you all had each other, I can't imagine what you've been through." At some point, you had moved to turn your body around to face him. You had never been so close to his face before, yet it felt so familiar.
"Without Julia I'm not sure we'd still be here, so fucking up the system was our best choice. I guess I would never have met you either if I never went through with it- and I sure would have regretted that." He grins, and you can't help but return it.
"All of you are so strong, you're amazing, Jaeyun." You remind him, and hope this will be something he and his brothers will always know.
There are continuous shifts in the air whenever you are left together, as if every moment brings you so much closer, but formed a theory that there wasn't a moment where you hadn't known Jake Sim, like he was everlasting in your life.
It’s cut short when Riki comes running down from the cottage, almost tripping over his own feet. His face isn't entirely visible from the length away, but your stomach drops as you sense something is wrong. Just minutes ago, he was fast asleep.
As fast as possible, Jake rows himself back to the pier where Riki is stood, taking deep breaths. He appears bothered by something, and his concerned attention seems to be on you the whole time.
"You guys- you're going to end up in big trouble. Jesus, some guards just turned up at the door, pretty much just as you reached the pier. They didn't recognise you from so far away, we told them that you were going far out and couldn't come back, but they said they'll come back later to talk to you."
You are so, so scared; you can feel your body begin to shake as what you had been anticipating finally happens. It had been so long, that you had started to consider the idea that they swiftly moved on from you. Unfortunately, it could never be so easy.
It didn't take long for you to start sobbing, the original feeling of shock and fear subsiding into anxiety and sadness. Jay has you wrapped in his arms as you shake, everyone has seated themselves down apart from Jake, who aggressively wanders around the room.
"Jaeyun, stand still. You're just making her feel even worse shuffling around the room like that." Heeseung glares at his younger brother, standing up from his seat to walk towards him.
"Yeah? Well what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what the fuck to do!" Jake shouts, not so loud, yet it still makes you jump enough that Jay holds you ever so slightly tighter. Looking over, Jake and Heeseung are standing face to face.
"Stop shouting at me and get your goddamn act together, she needs us, she needs you. You want to help her? Then we need to talk and figure out where we go from here." Heeseung snarls at Jake, who lets out a frustrated groan and nods his head.
This was the first time you had seen them truly upset with each other. It's due to one of your own problems too, which makes you feel entirely responsible even if you hadn't intended to.
"I have to leave."
All of their eyes divert to your direction, even Jay draws back from you a little. They all share the same expression, one you can't quite read in detail, but they are shocked by your statement.
"What? No, no, where on earth would you go? We can figure this out. Don't go until you're ready to move on." Sunghoon states, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow in concern.
"If I'm not gone by the time they get back, I'm not sure what they would do to you all if they knew I was here. I could never put you all at risky like that- and I would dread to think about the things they would do to me too."
"Are you sure?" Jungwon mumbles begrudgingly, frowning at the thought of you leaving them all. He had grown closest to you, other than Jake, and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he had grown rather attached to your presence.
Simply, you nod your head and hold your bottom lip between your teeth to attempt to avoid any more tears. Sunghoon was right to make a comment on you being ready, because you were far from so.
"I'll come with you." Jake's voice causes you to look at him again, eyes wide and lost. He appears so sure of himself, "I'll get you somewhere far enough that's safe. I can't stay with you, but I can offer as much help as possible. None of us want you out alone."
After a serious talk, heartbreaking goodbyes and reassurance that you will always have a place to be, you and Jake are on your way. He reminds you of another cottage not so long away that the two of you can stop at for the night, similarly to when you had first met.
Jake had been carrying a leather, worn-down rucksack that was filled with miscellaneous items that would keep you going and had been profusely refusing your offers to carry it for a little to give him a break.
There's a constant guilt riding through your body with every moment, and Jake is able to tell, he seems to know you well enough now. He spends his time telling you stories of his youth, his current years, his brothers; beautiful moments to tell you that this is momentary, and all will be well soon enough.
An hour or two walk leads you to the cottage, and it's far from pretty. In fact, you think some of the roof is missing and some of the windows are smashed up. Not the ideal place to stay, but it'll work for now.
"Here, take this, you're freezing." He offers up his jacket, more so forcing it into your hands. He's cold too, but he'd rather be the one to get sick.
"Why are there so many abandoned cottages around here? It's such a waste..." You question after sitting down at a wooden desk chair, your legs recovering from the long walk.
"People like to move around, they'll just up and leave, go to the next town or whatever it is they're doing. Their old homes just get forgotten about, I guess." He shrugs, he's used to them being around, while you were thinking about how lovely it would be to renovate.
It wasn't difficult for you to fall asleep, so exhausted that all it took was closing your eyes.
You never had nightmares; not until tonight.
Everyone you had come to know was there, complaining about how you were an awful friend, daughter, partner, princess. Hearing sharp words from your family was something you had become desensitised to, but Julia and Jake broke your heart.
Jake sees you shuffling in your sleep, making small noises, a concerned expression across your face. He pouts from where he sits, gathering that you were having a bad dream.
Quietly, he makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the bed. He finds himself studying your sleepy face, you were always bright and ignoring a few minor occasions, he never really saw you upset.
He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he ponders whether he should wake you up, but you're faster than him, shooting up as you frantically look around the room.
"Hey, woah! Breathe princess, you're okay, you're safe." Jake speaks so softly that the tension in your body dissipates immediately, your hand wraps around his for additional comfort and you look him in the eyes.
It feels right.
Jake's free hand moved upwards to rest on your cheek, you nuzzle into his hand happily and close your eyes. A few seconds pass, you decide to look back at Jake, who you hope is feeling just as you do.
When his thumb faintly rubs against your bottom lip, it was as if the subconscious block that had been holding you back snaps. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but it didn't matter.
His lips slot perfectly on yours; just like his hands, his arms, every fibre of his being. You feel slightly hesitant due to your lack in experience, though the softness of how Jake holds you tells you everything will be just fine.
He caresses your waist line as his tongue slips into your mouth, and you're sure you could kiss Jake's lips forever. In comparison, you’re gripping onto Jake for dear life, taking an awfully deep breath when you part from each other.
“I’m always going to keep you safe, you and the boys, you are my life. I’ll protect you even if it kills me.” He whispers against your lips, and a stray tear slips down your cheek as you both stay with each other, forgetting about your problems just for a moment.
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You hadn't been to another town before since you were a small child, being isolated away from others for such a long time. It's so lively and full of happy people, it makes you think about how quiet it had been at your old home as everyone in town had generally kept to themselves.
"Anywhere you want to go?" Jake asks, his hand still gripping yours tightly. Neither of you decided to mention the previous night, but you both have refused to let go of each other since you fell asleep, and Jake was feeling nauseated at the thought of you getting lost.
You had to admit to being anxious; there was always the chance that someone would recognise you even if they hadn't seen you since you were much younger. Not everyone was a good person, you would end up back at square one.
"I think I'd like to go to the lake, the old lady in the bakery really sold it for me." You hold up the bag that was filled with bread and sweet treats (you had to convince Jake not to steal any of them because the lady was so kind and you had enough money), "It's getting a little late, so I wouldn't mind going to the lake for a little while and then going to the inn."
The sky is filled with vibrant variations of pinks, oranges and yellows as the sun begins to set. It shines beautifully onto the lake as you and Jake walk along the path, content as you both munch on bread and laugh with each other.
Time passes so fast that you don't even realise how long you have been wandering around for, the dark skies soon tiring you out. Your eyes feel heavy, so you suggest going to the inn.
"You are a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" The woman behind the counter asks, grinning at your closeness as she takes the money from Jake's hands.
"Our whole lives, miss." Jake says, as if it has been a normal everyday saying. Of course, you become embarrassed and hide behind Jake's arm and the elderly woman coos at you as she passes along the key.
The air feels strange once you and Jake are laid in the bed together. Even though you are so far apart from one another, it's like the heat of his body is still reflecting onto yours. Whatever you feel in your body, you know it is unfamiliar to you.
You bite your bottom lip in hesitance. Taking a deep breath, you turn around to face Jake. To your surprise, he had already been facing you with his eyes open, watching you.
"You can't sleep either?" He asks, his voice becoming raspy from the lack of speaking. Even though the room is so dark, he manages to look just as gorgeous as usual, even with such tired eyes.
"I'm thinking." You reply quietly, Jake nudges further so that he is closer to you.
"What are you thinking about?" He takes his hand, moving a stray hair behind your ear, hand now resting softly on your cheek.
When you don't answer, Jake's hand is quick to travel to the back of your head as he slams his own lips against yours. Your own hand makes its way into his hair, tugging lightly as your body shakes in anticipation when he lets out a low groan against you.
You clamber onto his lap, wanting to feel as close to him as was humanly possible. The emotions and hormones running through your body became so overwhelming that you could only let out whiny whimpers on his mouth.
His hand moves between your thighs, playing with your little clit in excitement, allowing you to grind against his veiny hand. He messes with you through your underwear, soon moving it to the side with a long groan. A long string of saliva links the two of you, Jake's jaw dropping as he looks at you.
"Didn't take you long to get so wet, you wanted me for that long, honey?" His voice drops octaves, his irises filled with a concept you could hardly comprehend; but you have never felt so much pleasure, "Can't believe I waited this long to see how pretty you look withering on top of me."
"Jake!" You grip at his arm, nails practically digging into his skin, hips moving faster and faster as you feel the intense butterflies in your stomach. Tears brim your eyes as you experience the new feeling, almost bursting as your slick covers Jake's hand.
He can barely take in the situation himself. He's hardly done anything and your eyes are already welling up and he just knows drool is going to start dripping from your swollen lips soon enough. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean.
"Off, too hot. Yours too." You start to pull at Jake's shirt, he rips your nightgown from your body, leaving you with the thin material of your underwear. Before you could think, his arm wrapped around your back to pull you into him, taking your left breast into his mouth.
His other hand reaches to wrap perfectly around the other, harshly nipping to get a squeal out of you, he slots himself comfortably between your legs, pressing you against his hardening cock. The man underneath you bites his lip hard, lifting up his hips into your core.
"Fuck, fuck baby, just like that." His eyes and hands are still concentrated on your chest, completely hypnotised by their feel and appearance. Jake is absolutely enamoured, and you're already cock-drunk before he's even gotten inside of you.
But it still just isn't enough.
When you lift yourself up and reach down to palm his length through his pants, Jake is sure his eyes roll to the back of his head. He could feel
the fire emits from you, from inside you, from every touch you gifted to his body. You're so desperate, and he's ready to give you anything you desire.
"Can I..." You whimper out, reaching over to the low waistband of his pants. Looking at your face, Jake doesn't want to rip his eyes away. Your own eyes are blown out and your pretty skin is begin to sweat, your hair managing to fall flawlessly in place like you weren't jumping his bones.
"You can do anything you want to me, baby. I'm all yours." He whispers into your ear, nibbling slightly at the lobe. Swiftly, you finally pull at his pants and he lifts up so that you can remove them completely.
It stands tall, wet and red, you can't help but wrap your hands around it. However, not wanting to make a mistake, you give him your best doe eyes to ask for help.
"It's okay, princess. Just move your hand up and down, just like that- fuck." You move your hand up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with Jake, whose eyes are beginning to close from the building pleasure, "Such a good girl f’me.”
Suddenly, you're sliding yourself down his body, your face against his chest as your back arches deliciously. Your tongue lands directly on the slit of his tip, Jake moans loudly and grips onto your hair.
He tried his best not to buck his hips upwards, though he gets even more turned on at your inherent skill to take him in your mouth with ease, the tiny tears in your eyes only make him even more feral.
Your smaller hands are moving nicely on his cock along with your gummy mouth and just the sight of you has him on the edge; a lethal combination. Not wanting to let go just yet, he gently lifts you from him with a dazed smile at your sudden concerned face.
"It's okay, baby- you're doing so, so well for me. Just want us to be able to cum at the same time, hm?" He's quick to model you into the position he wants, you on your back facing him, legs over his shoulders so he can see your fucked out, cute face, “Tell me when you want me to move, okay?”
Then, he pushes himself into you.
You expected it to sting at first, your nails digging and scratching against Jake who just takes it. He waits, albeit the ache he feels in his stomach, until you give him the green light to start moving.
"Go, please." You squeak out, and he does as his lady requests. Still hurting ever so slightly, but with every move comes a larger wave of pleasure. He's almost sure he'll have to slap a hand over your mouth or kiss you so you don't get kicked out, "Oh my god!"
"So fucking tight. My pretty girl, all this for me." Jake stutters out against your neck, sucking at it while your hand rummage around his body, his hair, dragging your nails against his back as he ravages you.
Embarrassment fills you as Jake examines your face and body below him. You try to turn your head, but he immediately raises his hand to grab you by the chin and force you to look back, then his hand makes its way right around your throat in a light choke, "Look at me, honey."
It’s such an intimate moment, both of you finally together as one, only seeing each other and nothing else in the world. He’s holding your cheek while his other hand wraps around your throat and you’re all other the place.
You reach your peak, convulsing so hard and desperate. Jake’s eyebrows furrow harder, hips faltering as he climaxes too, you feel the spurts fill you to the brim, close to bringing another orgasm out of you.
Ears ringing, he lies on top of you though trying his best not to put all of his weight down on your current fragile body. He strokes the top of your head, and you ask him to stay inside of you until you fall asleep.
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The alarm of the bright sun shining through the sheer white curtains has you waking up as soon as it hits your skin. You grab the sheets and hike them up your body, still naked after immediately passing out last night. However, it seems like Jake had cleaned you up before you awoke, no longer covered in sweat and cum.
Eyes closing again, you turn your body around and feel onto the other side of the bed for your lover, but only gripping onto empty sheets. You furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips, sitting up and looking around the room.
There is light sparkling from the gap under the bathroom door, you make the assumption he mist be in there, "Jaeyun? Are you in the bathroom?"
After a second or two, the door opens and there stands a half naked Jake, his lean torso and shoulders on full display for you. He grins as his eyes scan down your bare body, spending significantly more time on your tits.
"Now what a lovely sight this is first thing in the morning." He laughs, pressing soft kisses along the dark splotches on your neck. You roll your eyes with a smile, pushing him away a little so you could pick up your day clothing to get changed, "You could just stay like that for a few more hours, I'm not complaining."
"You're suddenly so perverted, have you been hiding this from me the whole time?" You ask jokingly, leaning against the doorway in all your naked glory. He looks at you like he has never seen anything as perfect, how he just can’t look away from you; the glint in them somehow tells you that it isn’t just lust in his eyes.
He doesn’t answer, shaking his head with a bite of his lip. Closing the bathroom door, you look at yourself in the mirror while you change, noticing the new glow in your skin — you’re sure there is a myriad of reasons why.
There’s a knock on the door to the room. strange, you think, but you imagine it may be someone complaining about the loud noises and squeaks throughout the night, so you finish putting your shirt on.
As your hand lands on the handle, Jake shouts.
“Get your fucking hands off me! She isn’t in here you, assholes! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He’s angry at whoever was at the door, the mention of a she makes you shake and back away from the door.
You search for a window, anywhere that could get you out — but the thought of leaving Jake out there broke your heart and you would rather get hurt helping him than leaving all alone.
Before you can even come down to a decision between your two options, the bathroom door bursts open, wooden panels and metal flying around the room. You could recognise the clanky soldier attire of your family anywhere, them staring you down with violent glares.
Having nowhere to go, Jake nowhere in sight, your only option is to follow their instructions.
Standing before your parents, hands handcuffed behind your back, may have been the strangest occurrence you had the glory of experiencing in your life. Their angry faces dawned on you that you had royally fucked up and should have thought about being more sneaky instead of trying to live out your romance dreams.
"You are a disgrace to this family." Your mother spits at you, staring right into your eyes with pure disgust, no remorse for what she had done to you your whole life.
"I'm the disgrace? You tried to force your only daughter into a whole marriage with a man she couldn't stand to be around. You never cared about me, I'm only here to carry on your shitty legacy." You watch as your father's lips press into a thin line at your words, his hands rub at the bridge of his nose.
"You're completely delusional. The marriage will go on and that awful man you had stuck yourself to will be hanged for his crimes." His words are like poison venom, your knees bucking in shock.
Jake would be hanged because you had feelings for him, those were the crimes in your family's mind; their biggest fear as they locked you into a marriage destined to be because it was uncontaminated by a non-royal.
"What- no, no, no! Please, please let him go. I'll marry Beomgyu, I'll do anything, just please don't hurt him. He has a family, he did nothing wrong." You beg hard, almost wanting to drop to your knees with praying hands so they would listen to your requests just this singular time.
"We can't let a man of his kind go, they'll simply have to suffer." She dusts off her hands, standing up from her undeserved throne, "Don't think we forgot about how Julia betrayed us too."
"You're all fucking sick, you're sick in the head!" You scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning and your vision becoming unclear as you are dragged away back to your bedroom.
You spend your next few days with puffy eyes, overthinking every moment. It had been the day of your marriage, a day that you would remember forever but for the wrong reasons. Julia and Jake had still been alive since your torturous parents thought it would be a splendid idea for them to watch.
"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry that this day is not going as you desire, I wish this could be much different." Julia's mother had been the woman to adjust your dress. It was easy to see the sadness and distress in her eyes and you could barely imagine how she must be feeling in the moment.
"Thank you. I'm sorry about Julia." You wince as she tightens the corset.
"There isn't much I can do about that anymore. I tried my best, and it only seemed to make things worse." She comes around to your front, smiling so bittersweetly that it hurts you.
No matter how beautiful the reception is, it just appears revolting to you. Especially when you see Beomgyu waiting at the alter for you, everyone smiling at you like you should be happy and Jake and Julia sat right at the front, handcuffed up with guards on either side of them.
Your father holds on to your arm as you walk down the aisle and it makes you want to throw up on the expensive carpet. When you reach the front, you're practically pushed into Beomgyu's arms and the audience, since it's for show, laughs.
You look at Jake and Julia, them both sharing the same facial expression as you had. Seeing Jake in this light broke your heart and if you weren't in such an awful predicament, you would have ran to him.
"Any objections?" The priests asks before he begins and you have to peel your eyes away from Jake who looks like he hasn't slept in days and is on the verge of tears.
"I object!" Everyone's head turns in awe at the disturbance. You have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing things correctly because Riki is standing up on top of one of the further back pews, "I think this place has some decoration."
A sizzling sound is heard from the corner of the building; then the whole left side releases a large explosion that causes the building to begin to fall. With no thought, you start to run towards the exit, alerting Jake and Julia to join you, ripping your dress in the process.
Beomgyu latches onto your arm.
"Let go of me. They’re all I have left." You attempt to say sternly, but your voice trembles as you look between him and the exit. This was your last chance and he was trying to take it away from you. You’re struggling to drag yourself away from him- but he just releases you and turns to leave himself.
Jake, Julia and Riki, even Jay who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, follow suit.
"What the fuck! Where the hell did you get explosives from you psychos!" Jake shouts with an energetic laugh, still running with his hands cuffed — you would have to figure out how to get him out of those once you were all safe.
"I don't know! Sunghoon said he knew some people!" Jay responds, chuckling back at his brother.
You're back at your real home in no time, but you know you'll have to do something about the corrupted royals at some point in time. They could have easily recognised Riki and come back for a less peaceful visit.
"How did you know what was happening?" Julia interrogates the boys, rubbing her wrists to relieve them of the pain from being locked in cuffs for so long.
"They have a weird habit of releasing all information to the public. Heeseung had a feeling that something was wrong and made a visit, luckily was the same day they announced you and had Jake hostage.” Sunoo shrugs, “Sunghoon came back with explosives and still won’t tell us where he got them from.”
"Well, what do we do now?" Jake asks, his arms still holding you protectively. Everyone stays silent, but you know you’ll figure it out together.
Years pass and they never bother you again and you would all laugh that Sunghoon’s mystery explosives must have really made them jump.
Most of the boys had moved on with their lives; Jake found Heeseung and Julia making out in the kitchen one day after a hidden relationship, then the two of them moved out into a new town a little while later to start a family. Jay and Sunghoon found well-paying jobs on travels and would come to visit every moment they could.
The three younger boys stayed back, while you and Jake built up the cottage where you revealed your love for one another to live your own lives.
You smile widely as you examine your growing belly with the new life growing inside of it, Jake watches you lovingly from his desk chair where he writes up his notes for work.
His baby, his pretty girl; you who once stood as royalty lived a simply happy life and Jake finding what he was looking for in the end.
I’d say that deserves a happily ever after.
taglist ; @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whiskrv @mixtapejimin @zyvlxqht @saintriots @yohanabanana @jentlecoeur @belowbun @meujaeyun @capri-cuntz @greyminyoon1 @river-demon-slayer
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sweetsilver-if · 5 months ago
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To Taste Sweet Silver
Play here [Updated 8/10/24]
Word count (w/code): 16.9k
[F.A.Q] [Spotify][Pinterest]
"The silver of the fruit tastes sweeter than the iron of the blood." There is a City in the center of the remaining world, said to house and protect the last gift from the Old Gods before they vanished. Your mother had told you stories of it as a child, before she died. No one is allowed to enter the City of Forgotten Silver without extensive documentation and proof they are worthy. Not everyone is allowed to grace divinity. There is no reason for you, a nobody, to be here but you've managed to worm your way in. You know the consequences if you get caught, and you know to keep your head down as often as you can. The risk to be here is great, for the City is desperate to protect what remains of the past. Everyone who has dared to take the Old God's last gift, a fruit with silver skin, has had their execution made a spectacle. For this fruit is the key to reviving the world to what it used to be. Or so it is believed. It's why those in power will do anything to protect it. You know this, but you have a plan to attempt its theft anyway. For without it, how else will you finally bring this world to its end?
To Taste Sweet Silver is an 18+ Gaslamp Fantasy IF about putting a crumbling world to rest.
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✽ Play as a fully customizable MC: gender, sexuality, personality, skills, etc.
✽ Decide how you're going to survive in the City; will you fake an identity and do earnest work, rely on thievery, or freeload off anyone willing to take pity on you
✽ Master magic, hone your physical skills, or expand your worldly knowledge
✽ Discover why the Old Gods abandoned the world in the first place, and learn about the New Gods that have taken their place
✽ Decide your reasons for wanting to end the world. Will you really go through with it?
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Caspian Sinclair
The City Mage [M]:
A man who's more important then he lets on. The only reason you know he's a Mage is because you sense it on him. Despite his kind but stoic nature, you hesitate to approach him because if he finds out who you are, he will kill you. If only he wasn't also the holder of key information you need. He never seems opposed to answering your questions or pointing you in the right direction, making him your main source of information about the City of Lost Silver. However, the badge he wears reminds you to still your tongue, and watch your questions.
Whisper
The Jester [NB]:
Xer part of a night show, the sort outlawed in the City due to being propaganda about the Old Gods' departure. When xer not part of the show, xe have a traveling food cart xe only run at night. Although it's best not to draw attention to yourself and get involved with someone like xem, you can't help but wonder what's hiding under the mask. Especially with xer strange charm, odd sense of humor, and ability to show up at the worst of times for you.
Vivienne Silver
The Empress [F/trans]:
The youngest Empress ever crowned, and only due to the tragic assassination of her family. She's an elusive figure, never seen in public, but worshiped all the same. The people whisper her suffering is the reason why the City has seen such prosper in recent years, mythologizing her as a martyr. As an outsider, you have no strong opinion of her, until strange circumstances bring you together. She's exhausted and weary and as willing to bite as she is to be gentle.
Mourning
The New God [M/F/NB]:
Your benefactor and the sole reason you managed to get into the City. They found you in the outskirts one day and handed you a pass, telling you they can help you get what you want. You haven't seen them since. They're elusive and strange, and while they claim they're a God, you're not sure they're something quite so holy.
CW: Gore, violence, torture, cannibalism, death, religious trauma, explicit sexual themes, mtc
Note: This is a side project and won't be updated frequently. My main project is Burning Academia!
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mclacedes · 16 days ago
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The Idea of You (LN4)
2. The Idea of Worthiness
summary: in which lando decides to make it up for ghostin you
previous ••• next
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WARNINGS: it's pretty much all angst. in-depth described anxiety attack, anxious behaviour/mannerisms, description of depression and suicidal ideation, loneliness
wc: 3k
“but what if i can't do it?”
A/N: before anything else, i want to make it clear that my intention is NOT to trigger any kind of trauma in anyone with this. the reader has been warned of potential triggers. if you are going through some kind of psychological hardship, know that there are people who care and who worry <3 you are never 100% alone!
january 1st, 2024 — 3:30pm
you came home with a knot in your chest that seemed to tighten with every breath. the morning had been a blur, an awkward dance around lando’s mother as you searched for a polite excuse to leave.
of course you'd chosen the most simple and non-negotiable of lies: i need to spend some time with my relatives.
despite it being faintly true, you knew you'd spend the whole day with lando's family if the circumstances were different.
the night's words lingered in your mind as you walked out, wishing it could cover the truth: you couldn’t bear the thought of facing lando after what had happened—or rather, after what didn’t happen.
now, the silence in your own home was suffocating. you slumped onto the couch, your mind replaying the scene on a loop: lando's words, lando's reassurance, the way his lips had bruised yours, the heat of his breath so close, his hands on you, his hands in you, his fingers’ magic, and then... you wake up alone.
now, you knew lando felt the same, you knew that things could work out, you knew just the intensity of your feelings for him. but you also knew he hadn't texted you back all day and, seemingly, nobody knew where he was.
as his closest friend, you knew that he'd only have left that way if something really bad had happened.
what you didn't know though, was how bad it felt for him.
it had been a long time since lando had received the diagnosis. after years of wondering what was wrong with him and why he felt such a void within himself, he'd been told he had depression.
what they say is that treatment is easier when you have the right diagnosis, but that doesn't erase the fact that some days were infinitely more difficult than others—harder to get out of bed, harder to leave the house, to work, and singularly hard to live, specially because the latter is the last thing you want during a depressive episode.
he started going to therapy regularly when he was a minor, forced by his parents, but when he became an adult he left—said that talking about how horrible he felt wouldn't help, it would only make him feel worse.
and then the episodes gradually became worse as his life improve. for example, before arriving in F1, he oftentimes found himself fighting against the urge to simply end it all: the pain, the suffering, the disruption, the constant failed attempt at a better day, his very life.
even though he never attempted it, lando was caught contemplating the possibility of the end; he used to wonder how people would react when they heard "lando norris died, suicide", what it would be like if he wasn't here anymore.
“such a kind soul”
“such a beautiful boy”
“smart, funny”
“talented guy”
that's what people would say, in the best of cases.
in the worse of cases people wouldn't even notice he was gone.
well, following next to depression was anxiety.
lando’s anxiety was a constant undercurrent to his depression, feeding off it, amplifying it, tangling him further in a web of self-doubt. it was always there, an invisible weight pressing down, but some days it grew loud enough to silence every other part of him, like a swarm of thoughts buzzing incessantly, trapping him in a looping worry about everything and nothing all at once.
it started with racing—the very thing he loved was also the source of his most unrelenting fears. despite his undeniable talent and the acclaim he’d earned, the worry always crept in: what if i mess up? what if i’m not good enough? what if it’s all just a fluke, and one day everyone realizes i’m a fraud?
he dreaded that moment when the lights turned green, not because of the physical danger but because of the psychological toll—that split-second when any mistake, any misstep, could spiral out into a visible, unforgivable failure.
even beyond racing, the anxiety spilled into every facet of his life. he overthought every message he sent, every interaction, analyzing them for any hint of rejection, any confirmation of his worst fears. if he didn’t receive a response right away, his mind spun stories, convincing him he’d somehow upset the person or made a fool of himself.
and now, with you, it was worse. his feelings were tangled with worry and doubt; he feared you’d eventually see through his flaws, his bad days, his cracks, and walk away. the closeness you’d shared the night before terrified him. he wanted you desperately, yet that desire to let you in also exposed him to his greatest fear: that he would scare you away merely by the fact that he existed.
this anxiety could sometimes send him into a state of paralysis, leaving him unable to reach out, unable to bridge the gap even when he wanted nothing more than to feel your presence, to hear your voice. today was one of those days—the aftermath of a moment so perfect, so vulnerable, that his mind filled with a thousand worries. he couldn’t bring himself to message you, to even show you the rawness of his internal struggle. instead, he withdrew, waiting for the fog to clear enough for him to reach for you again.
but you had tried.
you: lando hey
you: i'm worried abt u
you: text me whenever u get the chance pls
you: i'm right here if you wanna talk”
there were another 20 texts of kindred nature from you in his phone—you spent the afternoon rewinding what had happened, wondering if there were any signs that he would do something to himself or… the devil god knows what.
you had barely moved or done anything at all since you had gotten home because lando still hadn’t texted back, and the worry in your chest was growing impossible to ignore.
you’d known him for years—long enough to see the shadows he kept hidden behind his easy smile. he had always brushed off the subject, deflecting it with humor or quick changes in conversation. but today, his silence was colder, sharper, more unsettling than usual.
hours had passed since you last saw him, and finally, you gave in and sent him a message, trying not to let the desperation seep through.
you: lando, i hope you’re alright. let me know when you’re home safe, ok?
the message delivered, but no ‘read’ receipt appeared. your heart sank, and as you stared at the screen, scenarios spun wildly in your mind.
lando was good at hiding. he knew how to pour himself into everything and everyone else, keeping busy, laughing, entertaining—until he couldn’t. when the episodes came, he retreated so far into himself that it was like trying to find someone in a pitch-black room.
you tried calling him. the line rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. your voice was barely a whisper as you left a message.
“lando… if you see this, please just… come home. or let me know you’re okay. i’m here, alright? no matter what, i’m here.”
when the call ended, the silence in your apartment felt just as cold as his void.
unbeknownst to you, he was okay.
at least that's what he said to max when he called saying cisca was worried about him. and thats what he said when he called his mom.
“i’m okay.”
but he knew there was nothing okay with him right now.
far away, in his silent retreat, a wave of coldness washed over him, and his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. that feeling in his chest was known: he was panicking.
it felt like the walls were closing in, a vice squeezing his chest tighter with every passing second. his hands trembled, fingers twitching as if searching for something to anchor him, to ground him in reality. he fought to keep his breathing steady, but the more he tried, the more elusive calm became. memories of your kiss haunted him—both a balm and a wound. how could something so beautiful leave him feeling so lost?
what if i’m not enough for her? he thought
a tight knot of fear formed in his stomach, mingling with the ache of longing. was he really ready for this? for you? for love? the questions spiraled, colliding with the weight of his own expectations and the pressure of his career. he couldn’t shake the sense that he was on the brink of something monumental, yet all he felt was the crushing weight of uncertainty.
the doubt crept in, fueled by echoes of his past, whispers of inadequacy that had followed him through the years. he recalled the stinging memories of being told he wasn’t good enough, of moments when his efforts felt like they never quite measured up. every trophy he’d won and every incredible milestone he had achieved done little to silence those voices. instead, they morphed into an insidious belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a step behind, always falling short.
what if she hates me?
with you, the stakes felt impossibly high. what if he couldn’t be the partner you deserved? what if the pressure of the spotlight overwhelmed him and drove you away? those thoughts twisted in his gut, feeding the anxiety that swelled within him. he imagined you in a world where he wasn’t there, finding someone who could offer you the stability and unwavering support he feared he lacked. the very thought crushed him, deepening the ache in his chest, as it reminded him of all the times he had to fight for validation, only to come up empty-handed.
he was scared of what loving you meant, terrified of failing you, terrified of failing himself. the weight of it all felt unbearable, a heavy blanket of dread that threatened to suffocate him.
what if i fail her?
lando was too scared, too anxious. with every breath, his lungs ached, and with every tear that gathered in his eyes, he felt weaker. it was as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath him, and the vast unknown loomed below—a place filled with possibilities but also with the risk of falling into darkness. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself as the rising tide of emotions threatened to pull him under.
every heartbeat felt like a reminder of his vulnerability, a painful pulse that echoed the uncertainty gnawing at his core. he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something profound, yet all he could focus on was the suffocating fear of not being enough. the love he felt for you, so pure and intoxicating, was also a heavy burden, weighed down by his past failures and fears. the thought of letting you down, of not living up to the promise of what could be, sent chills racing down his spine.
she's too perfect, i'm a mess
as tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, he felt a mix of shame and desperation. lando had always prided himself on being strong, on facing challenges head-on, yet here he was—vulnerable and exposed, battling an internal storm that felt relentless. the very act of loving you felt like a gamble, one that he wasn't sure he was ready to take. would he be brave enough to step forward, to embrace the chaos of his heart, or would he retreat back into the safety of his own fears?
with every sob that escaped him, the overwhelming tide of emotion pulled him deeper, and he struggled to keep his head above water. the thought of calling you, of reaching out for the connection he craved, felt both necessary and terrifying. what if you saw him like this—raw, broken, and afraid? what if he could never find the words to explain what he felt, or worse, what if you saw him as nothing more than a disappointment?
what if she saw me for who i truly am?
taking a shaky breath, he reached for his phone thrown on the couch, sitting on it. his hands were still trembling as he dialed the only person, besides you, who he knew wouldn't judge, but understand him.
“hey, mate, how you doing?” max fewtrell greeted him with his usual easy grin, only for the smile to falter the second he took in lando’s state: tears streaked his face, his eyes swollen and red, his nose and cheeks raw from wiping at them. his lips, split and bloodied, told the story of how he’d been biting them all day. lando’s breath hitched in his throat, his words barely making it out.
“hey… mate, i—” he tried, but the lump in his throat choked him. lando couldn’t even speak.
“lando, what happened?” max said, his voice low and steady, concern etched across his face.
“i think i… i fucked things up with Y/N,” lando's voice cracked, desperation pouring from him as if his world was unraveling right there in front of max.
the sight in front of max sent a chill through his spine. lando's looks, disheveled, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration all day. his bright green eyes were dulled, sunken and rimmed with red. the bags beneath them were dark, a stark contrast against his pale skin. his hands trembled on his knees, unable to steady themselves. his chest heaved, like the panic was consuming him from the inside, leaving only a fragile shell of the person max had known for years.
lando wiped at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. he shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch.
“we kissed, we slept together and i pushed her away, max. i—i could’ve stayed. i could’ve—” his breath caught again, ragged and uneven. “but i left with no explanation. i went up and left her there, max… i’m so stupid.” he cried out.
lando’s breath hitched, and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped him, raw and unfiltered. he hadn’t felt this way in a long time—like he was too broken to be loved.
"max, i’m a mess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i couldn’t stay, i couldn’t even look at her this morning because… because she deserves better. i mean, look at me," he gestured to himself, his hands trembling. “i’m fucked up, max. i couldn’t even say the words, couldn’t even be honest. how can i be with her when i don’t even know what’s going on in my own head?”
max’s brows furrowed, his face softening as he listened. lando looked like he was spiraling, and it hurt max to see his best friend like this—feeling like he didn’t deserve something good because he was caught in his own storm.
“lando, mate,” max started, carefully choosing his words, “you’re not as messed up as you think you are. yeah, you’ve got stuff going on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her, or that you don’t deserve to be happy. and running away from her because you think you’re too broken for her… that’s not the answer.”
lando shook his head, wiping at his eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke. “but i am broken, max. i don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, let alone someone else’s. she’s this… this amazing person, and i’m just… i’m just me. she deserves someone who has it all figured out, not someone who’s going to bolt the second things get real.”
max let out a breath, leaning forward a bit. “no one has it all figured out, lando. not me, not her, not anyone. she’s not expecting you to be perfect, she’s expecting you to be real with her. that’s all. and yeah, maybe you’re not in the best place right now, but you can’t let that be the reason you push her away.”
lando let the words sink in, but it didn’t ease the heaviness inside him. “i left because i thought… i thought i’d hurt her more by staying. i didn’t want her to see me like this. i didn’t want her to see how much of a mess i am.”
“but by leaving, you hurt her anyway,” max said gently. “because she cares about you. and if you care about her too, you’ve got to let her in, even if it’s messy, even if you don’t have all the answers. it’s okay to not have everything together, lando. it’s okay to be scared. but you can’t run from this.”
lando swallowed hard, staring at the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch until his knuckles turned white. max was right. he had run—run because he didn’t think he was good enough, run because the idea of her seeing all his cracks terrified him.
“but what if i can’t do it? what if i let her down again?” lando’s voice was barely audible now, thick with doubt.
max’s expression softened even more. “then you figure it out, together. but you’ve got to give her the chance to make that choice. don’t decide for her that you’re not good enough. let her in. let her see you, even the parts you’re scared to show. that’s how you build something real.”
lando’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. the thought of opening up like that—to be fully seen, in all his messiness, all his vulnerability—scared him more than any race ever had. but the thought of losing Y/N, of pushing her away because of his own fear… that scared him even more.
“yeah, sure,” lando whispered, his voice hoarse. “i need to talk to her. i need to fix this.”
max smiled softly, relief flickering in his eyes. “yeah, mate. you do.”
after bidding his best friend farewell, lando sat and tried to calm himself down by pressing his fingers with exposed raw flesh due to the fact he had gnawed at his own hands out of anxiety. he had to come up with something to make it up to you. he needed to.
TAGGINGS: @meglouise00 @rawr-123s-stuff
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norrizzandpia · 9 months ago
Text
Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)
Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.
Warnings: language, mentions of grinding
Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol
Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.
Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.
“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.
She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”
He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”
His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”
He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”
Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.
“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.
“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”
Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”
Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.
He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.
Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”
Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”
Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”
Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.
Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.
Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”
Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”
Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”
Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.
Truthfully, he did know why.
“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.
“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.
Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”
Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”
She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”
”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.
Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.
“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.
Did she smile that way when he texted her?
Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”
She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”
“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.
Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”
Yes.
”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.
”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.
He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”
She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.
His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.
But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.
He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.
And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.
On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.
A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.
His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.
Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.
Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.
Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.
“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.
Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”
“Why?”
She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”
Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”
She mirrored his stance, “Why?”
He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.
“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.
He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.
She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.
She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.
Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”
Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.
She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.
He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.
”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.
”I love you.”
Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”
He blinked at her, “What?”
She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”
He scoffed, “It’s true!”
Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”
He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”
She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”
He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”
She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”
“I will try.” He whispered.
She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”
He reared back, “What?”
She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”
”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.
She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”
His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”
”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”
He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”
She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”
She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”
”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”
He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”
”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”
”You can be happy with me.”
She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”
”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.
She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”
Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”
”And how long until I’m not?”
A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.
The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.
Lando would never pick her in the long run.
Even when he said he would.
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reds-skull · 16 days ago
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Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (Completed)
The comic I'm working on is taking... a long time (understatement of the year, been working on it since July 31st...) so I wanted to make another post like this
Like last time, there's no shared theme between these beside having multiple chapters and being completed (both SFW and NSFW)
As always please check the tags for CWs, and if a link doesn't work you're welcome to reach out!
Every Morning by sauceboss_yahoo - Ghost is back on base with the rest of the 141, ready to fall into his usual routine. Someone else, however, is itching to be a part of it and wants to peel back the curtain concealing him more than he already has, whether Ghost likes it or not.
Mask of my own face by Avidcatperson - Ghost takes great offence to the implication that he’s going to eat his cell mate, who is clearly sentient, with his bare hands. Soap is fairly sure he’s about to die. Chucked into a cell with a human? Pretty much a death sentence…hopefully Gaz can get out at least. [Space AU, multiple works in this series!]
bare my skin by Cristinuke - A study of moments as Ghost learns to trust Soap's touch.
Anomalous by Brigadier - Ghost, a SCP-056, finds a certain human worthy of his love, trust and adoration.
let these hills absolve me by flowersferns - When the news of three weeks’ forced leave reaches Ghost, he’s resigned himself to loneliness in an empty base. That is, until a certain Sergeant offers him an invitation he just can’t seem to refuse. Or: the sheep farming fic nobody asked for [this one hurts so bad but comforts so well]
Punch Drunk by Drolly - If you told Soap the second time he’d see Ghost’s face was in a shitty bar on a shittier block of Chicago… Well, he might have asked for a little more pomp and circumstance. At least then he’d have an excuse for the way he could hear his blood pumping faster in his ears and why he could feel it, hot and burning behind his eyes.
Simon's Gateway by wayfaredsoldier - When things get too rough on retired soldier Simon, his friends help him out and unknowingly provide him a gateway to something, or someone, beautiful. [veteran support hotline operator Soap]
A Bit Too Much by cod_dump - Soap always acts confidently, brave. Almost always has a smile on his face. But the fact is… He’s a bit too much. [locked for non-AO3 users]
Until The Nightfall by Mikhail - Upon realizing their friendship had grown into something deeper and more serious, Ghost is left torn between duty and longing. With each mission, Ghost is reminded of all the things he can't control, and it's becoming clear that this - whatever it is - he has with Soap, just might be one of them.
Philematology by ErlKönig (Herm_own_ninny) - Ghost kisses Soap while begrudgingly playing spin the bottle, and tries to repeat it with other party games.
stick up by amongthebooks - While off base, the 141 are unexpectedly caught up in a robbery. The raiders clock Soap, Gaz and Price as SAS operatives…but without his usual gear, Ghost was seen as just another guy. His team is rounded up, whilst he's treated as a civilian. Can Ghost take down the attackers and rescue his team without exposing his identity?
I Will by lemonwrap - After going missing on a mission, Soap has been gone for an entire year. Ghost finally rescues him, but he’s not quite the same.
The Worthy Vessel by MildLimerence - To take the edge off his maddening attraction to his aloof and inscrutable Lieutenant, Soap decides to try his luck with the local barflies off base. To prevent Soap from fucking anyone else but him, Ghost offers himself up under the guise of mutual stress relief. Soap thinks he’s just taking one for the team, but Ghost has just had everything he’s ever wanted fall right into his lap.
Damaged Goods by Red_Clegane - After an encounter at a club, Soap needs to know if he's actually into men… like into men. In a fit of desperation and homoerotic panic, he arranges a one night stand with a prostitute. It was just supposed to be a one off arrangement. But when Ghost shows up, it sets a series of events into motion that neither men could have predicted. [locked for non-AO3 users]
They Blame it on the Times by WildFlowerSolitude - "We were never anything. You need to get that through your head." Soap laughs hollowly into the empty corridor. I can live with that OR Ghost says some fucked up shit and Soap crumbles.
home is where the heart is by Anonymous - Soap vanishes from base one day. The Captain says its nothing to be concerned about. Ghost disagreed. [literally so so good]
Personal Affairs by sannikovs_bastard_son - Ghost got injured on a mission in Spain and was forced to take a temporary leave, leading to some buried feelings being brought to light, and Soap doesn't make his inner turmoil any easier by being the casual flirt he is.
Tug A Little Harder by puffyfish2006 - Ghost really really really likes Soap's long hair.
Burned and Broken, but Not Beaten by sick_of_sleep - Ghost ends up burning his hand pretty badly and Soap help his lieutenant while it heals. But Soap ends up helping Ghost in more ways than one.
Lofticries by Arodana - The mafia had always escaped John "Soap" MacTavish. No matter what evidence he found, it would disappear. For lack of words, it pissed him off. On top of that, he has to find a serial killer that has been evading the police and any efforts they've made for months. Soap finds himself stuck between his sense of justice when he is offered an opportunity to work with the one man that had been making his police career a living hell. Soap might just get what he wants.
Freely Given by Tatzelwurm - After the stress and danger of Los Almas and Chicago, Soap is finding it near impossible to let go and relax. He can’t sleep, jumping at shadows. Ghost wants to help him, dutiful lieutenant that he is. But Soap can’t bear to take any more from Ghost than he already has. At least, not without feeling exceedingly guilty about it.
Hold my hair up, Darlin (Ice packs on my neck) by JackiboysHorrorHouse - a fic where Soap's wisdom teeth end up having to be removed when he's in the 141, and ghost is the one who takes care of him during recovery!
Misplaced Jealousy by dyn42ty - Soap hinted that he had been crushing on someone within the base to Gaz. Overhearing the conversation, Ghost wonders who has Soap captivated. Not to mention it wasn't him? The more he thought about it, the more angry he had gotten.
lotus flower by exavibus - a new flower shop opens across the street from 141 Tattoo, in london's shoreditch district. one of the florists already seems to have something against him. the feeling's mutual.
Cry by kcisbroken - Ghost always leaves. After an intimate night together, Ghost picks up his things and doesn't look back, leaving Soap to sit in silence and ponder on whether or not it's worth breaking his heart over and over again.
i'm a fire and i'll keep your brittle heart warm by marviless - Soap spends three and a half days in Ghost's house after getting injured on a mission.
used to hide behind a mask by kj_crwn - What a pitiful thought; the scary hound of 141 force turned into a pliant mess by one simple man. “’Bout your scary mug,” Johnny clarifies, as expected. He leans down again and settles against Ghost’s chest, his head resting just beneath Ghost’s chin. “Yer a bloody gorgeous lad, Simon.” Except that Johnny is anything but simple.
We Are Ghost by Murmeloni - Instead of having to crawl out of his own grave, Simon escapes Roba's clutches with the help of Ghost. A klyntar stranded on earth who decided to make Simon his new home. The two of them were content with each other. Until they met Johnny.
Emergency Contact by soapsbeloved - John MacTavish is about as unlucky in love as you could get, never finding someone that would give him enough of a chance for a second date, resorting to sleeping around when he gets stood up. Simon, his best friend, seems to be the only person in the world willing to give Soap a chance, but the dumbass can’t see past the fact that Ghost isn’t very good at talking about things, and is completely and utterly oblivious to how Ghost feels about him.
dicentra by crown_twist - There's someone new joining the 141 and everyone is happy about it. So happy, in fact, that they don't seem to realize one of them is slowly slipping away. Johnny's only all too aware. [I reread this one so many times it's the ultimate hurt Soap fic]
and i wish i could change by SoftKing - Which meant he also noticed when Ghost frowned heavily and murmured, “Not really my thing.” “Oh,” Gaz said with his brows raised. “So you haven’t got one then.” He slapped Price on the shoulder and grinned. “I do.” Ghost interrupted, taking another long sip from his nearly empty glass. “Just think they’re rubbish.” [soulmates AU]
Night Has Always Pushed Up Day by Sillililli - Simon "Ghost" Riley is stuck in a shared hospital room, which has been fine up until then. He'd been alone, alone to fight the shame of having his face uncovered and having failed his team. But they bring someone into his space, a younger soldier, temporarily blind.
Domestic by Sillililli - Simon and John are coworkers. Both ex military, they relate in ways others can't. Soap is facing hard times at home and finds a safe place with Simon.
So Call Me Maybe? by cripplingchips - Ghost is trying to focus on the mission at hand when Soap starts getting a little… strange.
A Kiss For Luck by iamtheidiot - Soap and Ghost start playing gay chicken.
Mission: Cardsharp by nyxite - Soap (accidentally) gets a love reading from a fortune teller.
death is in the air (wish i could be brave) by aetherealmoss - Ghost gets injured severely and is sad and upset about it, until Soap appears at his doorstep and makes it better.
My frozen heart (would melt just for you) by Red_Clegane - After a mission goes wrong in Russia, Soap has to patch Ghost up... and keep him from freezing. Huddled together in a tiny cabin in the middle of the frozen tundra, something warm blossoms. [locked for non-AO3 users]
demolitions threat by amongthebooks - Home on leave, Soap has to instruct Ghost on how to disarm a bomb over the phone. The pair make a good team - but not every mission can end well. Ghost has dug himself out of his grave once already. Can he do it again?
i'm something else when i see you by oh_ellie - The first time Ghost had enough courage to plant his lips against Soap’s they’d both been drinking. They're fairly heavily intoxicated.
In the Middle of the Night by JDigital - “Go!” Came his Sergeant’s gruff exclamation as he threw his elbow into the Shadow’s face, an alarming amount of blood still soaking through his clothes. “Get out of here, go!” A few Shadows stopped their assault on Ghost’s cover to subdue their captive, and he was forced to watch as Soap was brought to his knees by a cruel strike of the stock of one of their rifles. “Ghost, move! Get out of here!”
Racing hearts season by Nuria123 - The F1 COD AU no one asked for SoapGhost style.
Through His Eyes by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost accidentally finds Soap’s sketchbook, is taken aback when he sees a familiar face looking back at him.
Peeping John. by A_BitOfStrange - When he considers it properly, the only person that would be either brave or stupid enough to go into Ghost's room while he’s away would be Johnny. The little fucking shit.
Surviving You by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost forced himself not to feel frustrated, had to admit to himself that Soap might be the most challenging sub he had ever had assigned into one of his units.
Yours Sincerely by LeoDoesGames - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish has been medically discharged following a mission gone wrong, which left him with severe agoraphobia and PTSD. He joins a programme which connects both active service members and veterans through the act of writing letters. Although things get off to a bad start, the connection he forms with his letter mate slowly becomes unbreakable. That is until he gets too close and strikes a nerve. [one of those fics that will not leave your brain for weeks]
Doing Time by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: On leave from the 141, Soap lands himself in Strangeways prison, home to some of the worst criminals in the UK. When his soulmark activates on the inside, Soap must contend with Ghost, an infamous soulmate-hating killer who seems intent on haunting his every move.
Spiorad agus Corp by Oud_smoker420 - A bet is made between the notoriously reckless Soap and Alejandro to try and get their respective crushes and the most stoic and traumatized men of the 141 in their beds. It definitely has the potential to go so bad.
Smooth Sailing on Choppy Water by coderaven - Soap and Ghost are sent on a mission to the middle of American suburbia to protect a Russian journalist targeted by Makarov. Their cover is that they're newlyweds. And very much in love.
Bathe in Sunlight, Take Deep Breaths by coderaven - Ghost gets honorably discharged after taking a bullet to his shoulder that completely obliterates his rotator cuff and leaves him with nerve damage. He joins a gym to help with his recovery. He meets Soap, ray of sunshine personified, a trainer at the gym. He falls pathetically in love.
Learning Experience by AvaLoren - Soap is forced into a simulated interrogation with his Lieutenant and the information he learns about him isn't what he expected.
If tomorrow you don't open your eyes by Swiftwater_Prawn - Ghost loves Soap but is bad at feelings and gets stuck in a time loop. [multiple works in this series!]
Collecting Strays by WhisperedWords12 - Ghost didn't trust Soap, couldn't know for certain what a year and a half of forced fighting in the pits did to something as volatile as a Wolf. But Price insisted that the man may have valuable intel, might be enough to finally bring down the Fighting Ring where they'd found him.
Driving Myself Home by Aether_Ghoul - Gaz insisted that he was just the thing for Soap. Soap insisted that everyone had a "but" and for the life of him, Gaz wouldn't tell him what this Simon guys "but" was.
all that's said in the low light by headlocket - After a near-fatal injury, John MacTavish finds himself back in his hometown in Scotland. Fresh off an untimely discharge, he's forced to cope with disability, his dysfunctional family, and the lingering knowledge that there are some things he's just not ready to leave behind… [literally if you haven't read this yet what are you doing with your life]
Lay back and think of England by Aether_Ghoul - From the outside, Ghost is well adjusted. He seems like everything recruits and rookies could ever wish to be. Inwardly, he is falling apart. It is when Soap asks him to spend their leaves together, that he makes a decision that will haunt him. Do everything Johnny wants, needs or dreams of because if Ghost is useful, maybe Johnny will finally love him. [this is another one I keep going back to T_T]
Our Time Is Right Now by ChaoticEmeline - A serial killer is making their mark on the newly installed crime factions in London. Smart, savvy, and undetectable in a city covered in CCTV. The man operates…like a ghost. Captain John Price and his team aren't afraid to get their hands dirty and do a little ghost hunting. But what happens when the ghost starts hunting them back?
Spectre-Unit by Zosch - The Spectre-Unit was a task force shrouded in mystery, not much was known about them and it was a rare occasion to witness one of their members in action. Until the Task Force 141 gained a new addition; S-U: 25, John "Soap" MacTavish.
Velocity Of Envy by leathfaic - Soap has a friend with benefits back home in Glasgow and Ghost, Ghost doesn't have a problem with it of course. After all, Johnny is his sergeant and anything else would be unprofessional, wouldn't it?
Crystalline by Sillililli - Soap and Ghost end up captured at the same time and as much as they'd like to save each other, they can't let their captors know they could be used against each other. Easily. Simon concocts a plan to save them that he can't let Johnny in on, hoping the lie won't shatter what little is left of them when it's over.
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girllookingoutwindow · 4 months ago
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Friends to lovers:
It's a reason why we care so much about this two characters. We see them grow. The thing is we don't see the characters falling in love, we see them choosing love. We know there is love between them, even before the story starts. It was always there. But we see them to realize that they're in love. We see them accepting the love for the other and believing they deserve it.
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Friendship is not less than love, it's love. Because it's possible the existince of ways of love like different kinds of people. You cannot measure it, you cannot tag it, but you can choose if it's grows or dies.
Colin and Penelope love story was destined to grow. Because that was their choice.
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The most important aspect of their relationship it was always there. They inspire each other. They always cared for the other. And this is the reason. Because we can talk about first crushes, who knew it first, or why they love each other. The important thing, it's what this relationship creates between them.
They believe in the other. They always did. The bond between them makes them want to be a better person. So the line between a frienshship and love starts to disappear. Because romance it's about connection. To be close to the other person, and choose the other. It's a decision to give your life to be with this person. Pen sees in Colin someone kind, she valued this very much. It's possible this the seed that make her starts to love him in the beginning. She tells him this in 3x02 and 3x07. She's romantic from nature, so to her it was more easy to connect the dots. The need of connection she has with him makes her want to have a more intimate relationship, because she wanted more, specially kindnes. The lack of love in her life make her appreciate more the love she receives. But she doesn't feel worthy of it. She doesn't have the self-confidence to go for what she wants because she was teached she couldn't have it.
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Colin on the contrary, it's more blurry. His mouth says one thing but his actions do something else. He doesn't see what is in front of him, but that doesn't mean he cannot feel it.
Everything decision he makes make him more close to the same result: Pen.
He's always choosing her.
Because maybe he didn't understood why or what it was but Colin always knew something: Pen makes him happy. It's sound cheesy, but it's not. She creates a feeling in him that nobody else does. That's why he is always seeking her out. When she says to him, he's kind and sweet. He says she's warm and clever. That he feels seen when he's with her. She makes him feel that he has value. Specially the parts of him that nobody else cares or sometimes even dismiss.
You can say that he loves her because the way she makes him feel, but I don't think it's the case. She makes him feel that way, because he values what she's.
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He sees her good nature and that is the reason why he's always looking for her. She's not an idea in his mind. She transforms. She forces him to move, to be, to evolve.
She takes his breath away. She creates on him the need to be soft. He values her opinion more than anyone else. She's the person he is always looking for in the crowd.
He always acts like he has a string in his body that move him close to Pen.
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But it's something more, his chest gets bigger and high when she's close. All his posture changes. Even, when he could denied it, sometimes even unconscious, he's trying to flirt and maker her seeing him like a man. He's always to close to her and he's always trying to touch her without realising.
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Everytime she says something to him about it he ignores it. Because to him touch is something natural, it's about connection.
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His heart gets warm when she's around. He sees her like someone sweet and kind too. That makes him want to be the same even more. The way she see him makes him believe in himself, he wants to be the person she sees on him. She believes in him, that's love, and that love gets reciprocate. Because he's not indifferent to it, he appreciates it, and with it he appreciates her too.
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The love between them became something physically when the need of connection it's more strong. The letters made a romantic connection between them, specially because they create the illusion of exclusivity. The letters are something that is just between them. Nobody else can read them, nobody else is looking through it, not even Eloise. It just the two of them. It's the beginning of an intimate relationship. The connection was there before, and that's the reason because the letters exist. But they were a safe place for both of them being themselves and open to each other. So, when the letters stopped, Colin felt alone, and his need of connection grow so desperately that he tried to reach it how he could. But nothing was feeling the void. He missed his relationship with Pen and he wanted that relationship back. He knows for the first time what it feels not having her in his life, he doesn't want that. He hated it. He felt loss.
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So, when Pen choose let go of him because she wants more from life, even when she still loves him. She knows she would choose him without even thinking about it, but Pen doesn't feel that she has that option: love is not an option anymore. In that moment he's choosing her, even more than before. So, he push back. But then, their relationship was never going to be the same.
Their friendship becames something that can't include other people, even when they tried. The need of connection it's more intense that it was before. The sexual attraction is too, for both of them. Because the need for the other is more stronger. So, the idea of one of each other being with someone else, physically or emotionally, becames impossible. Colin starts to understand what was the root of his need for her. He doesn't know if she reciprocates this, but he needs to. Because he does something that Pen did before him: have faith. She loved him even when she thought he didn't loved her, because she had faith in her love. She wanted love, even in the door to marry someone else, someone who wasn't offering love to her. She stills was waiting for him to go to her, she believed her love for him was enough. When Colin goes to the ball to search for her, he does it because he has faith in her but specially in his love too.
Even when he didn't know he was going to be reciprocated, he chose to love her without the guarantee of being loved. He's choosing to love, and that was a courage move. Because love is a choice that it requires courage. And they chose each other again and again without thinking about it, every time.
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dixonsbrat · 11 months ago
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finnick has trouble coming to terms with the fact that you could ever love him. after everything he’s done, guided by the powers of another, left him feeling shameful. uneasy in his own body.
but you love him, regardless.
you comfort him, remind him that he is worthy of so much but mostly love. that the things he had done were not on his conscious. he was but a pawn in someone else’s game of chess. he deserved to be loved more than anyone. deserved to know what it felt like to be loved and not just sought after. he deserved to be in the arms of another without feeling regret. and nobody made him feel quite himself as you did ᰔ
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maybeiwasjustjade · 3 months ago
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The High King theory truly makes me ill.
And knowing SJM and her obsession with making certain characters superior and/or have some kind of divine right to rule, I know she’ll try to make it happen at the expense of literally everyone else.
Moreover, I don’t see how it can happen without a major war. They just got out of 50 years under Amarantha, I doubt the courts are itching for another incompetent warlords’ attempt at HK/HQ.
Who exactly would bow to Feyre and Rhysand? The High Lords meeting showed that barely anyone tolerated them, nor did they have any actual allies that wasn’t Helion. And I doubt Helion would be so forgiving when he finds out about Lucien. Tamlin and Eris would never, so they’d have to die. Neither would Tarquin or Kallias agree, so that’s a given war with the Seasonal Courts. Dawn would stay neutral, or end up the rebel court. It really is the only toss up.
And even with Gwydion (which rightfully belongs to Nesta alongside the Trove) as some kind of divine symbol, feysand genuinely sucks at ruling. Conquer Prythian—yes, conquer because the other HL would never submit if they asked nicely—when they can’t even rule or play nice with their own people. Enough with the HK dreams, Amren; Rhysand would be lucky if Illyria and Hewn City don’t band together soon to stage a massive uprising.
(Y’know I’m not surprised nobody in the IC can empathize with the CoN citizens. They were all trapped in Velaris for fifty years, where they were free and the sun still rose. Imagine if they’d been UtM with everyone else; maybe then they’d get it. That life where even the sun and trees and anything worth living is out of reach at the whims of a dictator is no life at all.)
And I’ve seen theories floating around that the HK plot is set up for Nyx instead, because he’s destined to inherit all seven powers of the court. Yeah, that’s equally terrible. Divine right to rule and conquer is bullshit. Balance is something that should exist but doesn’t in Acotar. If it did, Feyre wouldn’t be as powerful as she is. 7 drops is not a lot of magic; so tiny and miniscule that each HL didn’t even really notice they lost it. It doesn’t make sense that she could go toe to toe with them with just a singular drop.
Which is baffling when the same author wrote ToG. Everything that was given was scraped together and fought for miserably, and even in all that power, they had to sacrifice so much. Aelin Settled and got her kingdom back, but at the price of losing almost all her fire and getting to keep one drop of water. Dorian still has most of his magic, but at the price of being made a demon slave, committing fratricide, and having the sole responsibility of redeeming his kingdom ala Zuko. Manon fulfilled the prophecy and united her people, allowing them the chance to return home for the first time in 500 years. All it took was losing the Thirteen, who would never see that dream come to life.
Nothing came without cost.
And while yes, Feyre deserved to be remade after her death saving Prythian, the amount of magic she wields is the issue. Nesta having so much magic made sense given she stole most of it; we have yet to really see how much is left. But where’s the balance if Feysand does end up HK/HQ, or Nyx does. What have they given up that makes them more worthy to rule the entirety of Prythian than literally any other character? Because I can argue that they’ve lost a lot lesser. Whatever rights feysand believes they have is no more than a lot of other characters.
And the bloodline of Theia? Yeah, I’m pretty sure the important ones are her female descendants, like Bryce. And Bryce gave Gwydion to Nesta for a reason. If SJM wanted me to believe Feysand was the best choice, she should’ve made Nyx be born full Illyrian. Or better yet, mostly High Fae but with no magic. That would’ve been a much more interesting story to follow, given that Nyx might not be the next inheritor of the Night Court. And what it would mean for the Hewn City. She’ll never do it of course, but it would be fun.
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acaciusbride · 2 years ago
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That’s My Girl - [ Joel Miller x Reader 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ ]
Anon requested jealous, possessive Joel with a filthy mouth, so here you are! General CW for spice, unsafe sex, Joel with a filthy mouth, & a slightly red flag possessive streak.
Joel slammed the door behind you, expression mutinously annoyed as he crossed his arms and turned to you.
“What the fuck was that back there?” He demanded.
You had to resist the urge to smirk; if you weren’t so annoyed yourself, you’d feel smug about pissing him off. Joel liked to pretend he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you, but it was obvious that you were more than… whatever he thought you were. A quick fuck. Something casual. There was nothing casual about the way he’d grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the bar.
“What was what?” You asked sweetly, enjoying the way his eyes darkened.
“You know damn well what.” He glared, “letting that random fucking informant buy you drinks.”
“Maybe I like free booze?” You suggested, innocent. Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing.
“Not enough to let someone like that put their hands on you, surely?”
Your own temper flared. “What’s it to you, Joel? I’m not your goddamn property. Besides, you can’t lecture me on exclusivity when-“
You stopped, still angry, still hurt, by what you had seen. By what had driven you to provoke him, to try and draw out his jealous side in blatant vengeance.
“When what?” He demanded, exasperated. Honestly he had no damn clue what had possibly driven you to act the way you had, flirting with anyone and everyone. You were his, dammit. Nobody else should be able to hold your attention. Nobody else was worthy of it.
You were so angry at the memory, you wanted to cry.
“When I show up at your place looking for you and Tess answers the door wearing your fucking shirt and says you’re busy.” You snapped, glaring at him. “You don’t get to demand I don’t look for attention elsewhere when you’re clearly more than happy to fuck both of us.”
He stared at you. He hadn’t been home at the time, had been at work. He knew which shirt you were referring to, though. It was an old one he’d given her on a laundry day, almost a year ago.
“That… is not what’s happening here.” He said flatly.
“No? You think I’m stupid?” You demanded. Honestly if he wasn’t so worried about fixing this, wasn’t so pissed about you letting that fucking rat touch you, he’d almost find this funny.
“I haven’t been with Tess like that for… Fuck, almost five years.” He shook his head, “that shirt was too small for me, I handed it down on a laundry day when she had nothing clean. And I was at work, by the way.”
You cut your building tirade, mouth open but nothing coming out, feeling monumentally stupid.
“Oh.” You manage, knowing full well how lame you sound.
“Yeah, oh.” He frowned at you, “you know better than to let her rile you up.”
He was already making a note of talking to Tess, though. He’d have a few choice words for her, that was for damn sure. But that wasn’t his focus.
“Now we’ve cleared that up, you wanna tell me again why you were getting so cosy with our good friend the local rat, there?” He backed you right up against the wall, one arm on either side of you, effectively trapping you there.
“I-“ You had absolutely no good answer for him.
“I’m gonna take a guess,” he suggested, “that you thought it would be a good idea to piss me off, by acting like a complete slut.”
“No, I-“
“No? You weren’t? Cause that’s not what it looked like to me, baby.”
You could feel the heat coming from him; in a very short sentence: you’d fucked up. Big time.
“I just-“
“I don’t care what your damn reason was, honestly. But I have a suggestion for you.” He was leaning in close now, mouth so close to yours. You leaned in, wanting so badly to kiss him. He turned his head at the last minute.
“You want to put that mouth to use? Get on your knees and show me.”
Fuck, he was mad. You were only starting to realise just how far you’d pushed him now, but there was no going back, and no hiding the thrill you were getting from it as you dropped to your knees to obey him, hands going to his belt.
“Not making a case for yourself here, are you darlin’?” There was a sort of wry amusement to his voice as you unzipped his jeans, wrapped your hand around his already hard length.
He kept one hand on the wall, the other reaching down to stroke your hair.
“Be a good girl now and I might be less mad.”
You looked up at him, staring into those depthless dark eyes, as you leaned in to lick a slow stripe along his cock, watching his reaction before you took him into your mouth. You didn’t hold back, sucking him eagerly.
“This what you were gonna do to that other bastard? Or am I special?” He was taunting you, he knew deep down you’d never have let anyone else touch you, but fuck, he was angry about it. You were his. His. Nobody else got to touch you. Even thinking about it made him see red.
You, of course, couldn’t answer, mouth otherwise occupied as he started to thrust shallowly into your throat. He groaned softly when you sucked him, swallowing around him. He knew exactly what you were doing, pulled out of your mouth and tapped you sharply on the lips with his cock.
“Not yet. Get up.”
You got up, a little shaky, only to find yourself pinned against the wall, your dress being pushed up around your hips.
“Tell me, is this what you’d let anyone else do to you?”
“N-no,” you admitted, voice shaking with a little fear, a lot of desire.
“No? Are you sure?” His lips grazed your throat, teeth nipping the skin.
“I’m sure…” you were absolutely soaked; you could feel your own wetness drenching your panties as he dragged them aside, wrapped your leg around his waist.
“Good.” He almost growled it, “you’re mine.”
He slid into you in a single, deep, rough thrust, drawing a cry of surprised pleasure from your lips.
“I don’t give a damn if you want to be a whore, as long as it’s only for me.” He kept one hand wrapped around you to steady you, keeping you braced against the wall with his other hand as he fucked you, harder and faster with each deep thrust.
“Fuck-“ you whimpered, tightening your leg around his waist, bringing him in deeper.
“None of that.” He slapped your ass sharply, “talk to me, baby, use your words. Tell me who you belong to.”
He was barely thinking straight himself, driven by a deep and primal feeling of jealousy, rage, and possessiveness. You brought out the best in him, but that was a double edged sword. You could also bring out the worst, when needed.
Luckily, you understood, knew how to play him.
“You, Joel,” you cried out as he hit your sweet spot, again and again, “I’m yours, I promise!”
Your cries faded into incoherence, loud and desperate sounds of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer, finally reaching the apex of your pleasure, tightening around him, soaking every inch of him that was buried inside you.
“That’s goddamn right,” he agreed, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth, “you’re all mine, darlin’, don’t ever forget that.”
He could feel his own pace start to get erratic as he drew closer and closer to his own release, incoherent growls and groans falling from his lips.
“Fuck, darlin’, you feel so fuckin’ good, prettiest damn pussy I ever felt, gonna fill you up so good…” he punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, “gonna make you forget anyone else you ever had… fuck…”
He couldn’t control it any longer, feeling himself throb and ache inside you as he filled you with his release; usually he was so careful about pulling out of you, but well… accidents happen. And if that accident so happened to keep you around and with him? All the better for it.
“Mine, darling. You’re all mine.” He murmured into your ear, holding you close.
You sighed, kissed his throat.
“I’m sorry…” you admitted; you’d pushed him too far, and you knew it.
He gave you a small smirk. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You more than made up for it.” He paused, and then, “just don’t do that shit again.”
You smiled back, rested your forehead against his.
“I won’t. Promise.”
He kissed your lips gently. “That’s my girl.”
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kairiscorner · 1 year ago
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omds i luvvvvvvv your writing so much 🤭🤭 could i req a earth 42 miles or a hobie brown fic where reader gets bullied for dating miles/hobie (whichever one u pick 🖤) because people think she’s “not good enough for him” because she’s like one of the quiet kids she doesn’t go to like parties and stuff like that she’s always studying and that kinda stuff and miles/hobie finds out when one of his friends confronts him ab it (you can write this however u like!!!!) and he talks w reader and stuff just a bunch of htc!! 🖤 thank you sooooo much
OH DAMN, sure thing anon !! i am just like y/n fr it's just that i don't have bitches 😭😭😭 but i hope u like this rahhh !!!
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
they're more than worthy of me. – miles 42 x reader
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nobody ever has a perfect life, let alone a perfect love life, but when you were with miles, everything felt just right. he loved you with a love that wasn't overbearing or possessive, he gave you your space when you needed it and supported you from the sidelines in every endeavor you dared to try. you didn't stand out much though, really, you blended in quite well into the background. you were used to not being recognized or acknowledged immediately, and you were fine with it—though you were confused why recently, a few of your classmates were acting a little mean to you.
you never harbored any ill will towards these people—as far as you were concerned, you doubt that more than half of these kids would even remember your name. every time you approached a classmate of yours for a question, they'd immediately walk away the minute you walked over to them, others would ask you in sarcastic voices if you couldn't even do something so simple with a smile that tried to get you thinking they meant no harm when in reality, they wanted you away from them. you couldn't even pretend and think that they were just busy or being realistic—that you should be able to do something as simple as the question to an activity that you were stumped on, but you couldn't—this was because a lot of those classmates of yours adored miles.
they liked miles and having his attention on them, angry if anyone else were to get his attention away from them. before you entered the picture, they were all over him—devoted and loved him like a friend, some had loved him in more than just a friendly way, but none of his friends and admirers in your class took it very kindly when they noticed you and miles getting along a bit too well back then; when you two became a thing, everything just got worse. miles still hangs out with some of these people, though he doesn't consider them his friends—tonight, he'd be attending a party of theirs with ganke, with you opting to stay behind and catch up on school works.
late at night, as you were finishing up your studying session, you got a text from miles, asking you to come down and meet him by your front door. you got up from your chair and walked down to your front door, and there he was, battered and bruised in the face—looking into your eyes with hurting in them. you asked him in worried stammers about what happened to him, who did this to him, if he was even okay. you checked his face all over, and when you saw the backs of his hands, they were reddened and scarred, you couldn't tell if the blood was his or someone else's, because you knew this was no accident that happened to him—he got into a fight, a serious one.
"miles, what happened?" you asked him in a shuddering voice, with miles bringing his red, bloody knuckled hands to your shoulders and wrapped you in his arms. he didn't answer you quite yet as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as his initial response. "how could they not accept that i love you?" he murmured as you gently placed your hands on his back, reciprocating his hug despite your confusion. "i... miles, what?" "ganke told me he heard a bunch of the guys at the party talking shit about you behind my back. i... i confronted them, asked them why they said what they said, but the last thing they wanted to do was cooperate and be honest. so i... i did some things i wasn't proud of. i'm sorry, i'm just so sick of people hurting you all for my sake–you deserve better, mi cielo..." he whispered as you pulled away from him, watching the tears form in his eyes as he frowned up at you amidst the cuts and bruises on his face.
you brought him into your house and sat him down on the couch, hurriedly getting him a first aid kit to treat his wounds. you wrapped his knuckles up in gauze, with him mindlessly following your hands with his gaze–him taking in all the gentle and softness of your touch. "i'm sorry, again, mi vida. i shouldn't... i should've handled it better." miles apologized to you again as you were tying up the gauze on his hand. "love..." you called out to him, placing your hand on top of his with concern and love filling your gaze. "i'm just glad you're alive and well. i wish you didn't have to get hurt or hurt anyone, but... i'm glad you love me enough to defend me like you did even though i wasn't there." you said in a quiet voice, smiling up at him with tears in your own eyes, matching the tears in his as he looked back at you and nodded, his lower lip quivering.
"i'd do it all again, and more, for you–mi cielo. i swear, you... you won't ever shed another tear... because of another person being an asshole to you–i can't not love you, cielo, i can't..." miles murmured with a cracking voice as he got more vulnerable. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close as he sobbed, muttering to you how he'd love you forever, that much would never change–no matter if the multiverse demanded you two cannot be, he'd make a world for just the two of you, even if everyone else would disagree.
tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @onginlove @euphovlq @meowmoraless
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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 7 months ago
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Auditor, Phobos, 2BDamned and Sanford with a reader that overworks themselves. Prioritizing work over mental and physical health, pushing themselves to their breaking point, skipping meals and only getting a few hours of sleep. I just need these four in particular to tell me to take care of myself and care about me argggh
Overworked reader
Audi, Phobos, Doc, Sanford
CW: bit of a mental spiral on San's end, ends well tho.
Burnouts a bitch man, don't wear yourself thin over shit, y'hear?
Auditor
"Are the chef's meals not to your liking?" You nearly jumped out of your seat when Auditor's ghostly whisper filled your ear. Casting your aching, tired eyes from your paperwork at the once hot meal, still arranged with care on the plate, completely untouched from the moment it left the kitchen.
"Oh, no. Of course not. They're good, don't worry." You offered him a weak smile. "I'll have it later, I just need to finish this up." Audi's eyes narrowed as you gestured meekly to your desk, piled high with reports, cloning records, casualty tallies, and other such boring admin work.
"It's cold." He grumbled, spinning your chair to face him, hands on his hips. "You're going to really hurt yourself and burn out if you keep pulling these awkward hours. Don't think I haven't noticed you slipping from our bed to come back to this. Did you forget how light a sleeper I am?"
Audi's stern demeanour dropped as your features fell, already feeling low because of how your body was struggling, now having your boss/lover add to that. "I just need to be able to keep up with you. What use am I really if I can't handle a fraction of the work you do?"
His hand rested under your chin, thumb delicately stroking your cheek. "You could never keep up with me, my flame, I was made to handle this. You're just a delicate mortal, you do more than enough without stressing yourself trying to level with me. Allow me to finish this later, mea vita, you are going to get a hot, fresh meal while I draw a bath for us, and after you will get the rest your body needs. That's an order, from your employer, understood?"
"Yes, but-"
He cut you off. "No 'ifs, ands, or buts,' You are going to hurt yourself, and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt you, even self inflicted pain. I, as your partner and boss, will clear this burden for you. When I asked for your best, I meant the best you can consistently handle, not this. You're not yourself, and I command you seek out that old self that I fell for and bring them back to me instantly."
Phobos
Being the director's lover had essentially no downsides, nobody spoke a bad word around you, people helped you far more than before, not to mention the adoration of the most powerful figure in the physical realm. However, that same man would often breathe down your neck, commanding you to stay by his side constantly.
Phobos relished in you, watching you, listening to you, being around you. He wished to be adored equally in return, however your work proved to be a distraction from him. He was... a tad obsessive, but how could he not be? He's a god, it was only right you'd devote yourself to him and him alone.
"Leave that alone will you? Your god requires your attention." A large clawed hand rested on your shoulder, the other pulling down his bandages from his mouth. "Your recent neglect of me is not going unnoticed, dear."
You rubbed your aching eyes, staring at a computer screen all day and most of the night irritated them. "I'm sorry Bo, but there's a lot of work that needs reviewing, I've got weeks of backlog to go through, and Christoff, Crackpot and Gonne have all submitted new reports today with pages and pages of intel to go through."
His hands wrapped around your middle, he lifted you up and took your place on the chair, resting you in his far more comfortable lap. "Bah, they're not worthy of your time. I'll command someone else to do it, the short fat one, whatever his name is. He enjoys paperwork and the like."
"Hofnarr is no doubt as swamped as I am." He took your face in one of his hands, his cracked and damaged lips pressing against your cheek.
"Someone else then, if it pleases you. Whatever it takes for you to spend time with me." You leaned into him, your back pressing against his chest, and he emitted a deep purr. "I am a god amongst men, dear, I don't beg for what I desire. I take it. And yet I allow you this honour. So please..."
Your stomach rumbled against his hand. "Harumph! Neglecting yourself as much as you've neglected me?! How dare you, enough is enough. I command you take care of yourself!" Phobos picked you up with ease, holding you level to his eye. To anyone else, he'd be holding them by their collar, or neck to meet his gaze, but with you, he was softer. A hand under your rump and the other on your back, supporting your weight comfortably.
"You are the lover of a god, think how pitiful it would look if I can't even take care of my equal? You stand above others, the right hand of my throne. Your duties have changed, lesser beings will take charge of them. Your only priorities are yourself and me, and the family we will create." Phobos snapped his fingers, and one of the guards at the door came forward.
"See to it that the chefs prepare your God's favourites, find someone to take their duties on and allow them to be truly indulged as they should be." Phobos looked back to you, his eye narrowing. "I will tear this world asunder for you, and build it up as you desire. I will give you anything your heart pines for, never again shall you be run ragged like this."
Phobos was self assured, a god of the highest order, surrounded by weaker, lesser beings. And yet here he was, begging at your altar. He wished you'd devote yourself equally to worshipping you as he did, and he would make damn sure that happened.
2BDamned
3 AM. Doc was in the kitchen, boiling some water over the stove. Hank has smashed the coffee maker earlier in the day, said he'd accidentally dropped the thing, yet couldn't explain the crowbar in his hands. Doc gritted his teeth, damn Wimbleton, making his hard job harder with their stupid thoughtless actions.
He had no doubt the fool had burned themselves on the machine and gone overboard against the poor helpless thing in revenge. Now here he stood, using the stove to make both his coffee and his snack. Instant noodles, his saving grace in the world. Easy to prepare, quick to eat, and filling.
With bleary, tired eyes, you wandered into the dim kitchen, hearing Doc grumbling to himself about 'Getting that moron to find another working machine or he'll have his spine inserted upside down next time.'
"Hey sweetheart." Yawning and setting your tablet down, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and leaned your face into his back. One hand pulled way from the stove, running down your arm before resting atop your hand, feeling the ring around your finger.
"You should be asleep, love." Doc murmured, his animosity towards Hank gone in the wind. You inhaled deeply, basking in his familiar scent.
"I could say the same to you, Kyle." He let out a soft 'Hm.', agreeing without agreeing. You were right, of course. "Debugging with Dei was going well, till he nodded off. San came by on one of his usual bathroom breaks and picked him up."
Doc poured the water into his noodle cup. "You want some coffee?" He took your favourite mug out of the cupboard.
"I thought you wanted me to sleep." You teased tiredly.
"You're my spouse. I know you well enough to know that's not gonna happen anytime soon, even if I would like it if you did." He tossed some powdered milk into the cups along with the beans. "We don't have any sugar left I'm afraid, or sweetener. It's become so scarce these days. Ration packages can't even supply a tiny packet anymore."
"I can get sugar anytime I've got you around." Doc smiled and turned off the hob, turning around to pull you into his arms. "Can I get some now?"
As far as you two were concerned, nothing else existed, everything except what was in both your arms was null and void. He tilted his head down slightly, lips catching yours softly. Butterflies fluttered in your tummy, they flared up every time your husband kissed you.
You rested your head on his chest, it was rare you two had a truly private moment together, as much as you both tried. Being enemies of the state was hard work, who'd have thought?
"You should really lay down dear." Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up to him. You hadn't even realised you'd started dozing off in his arms.
"No, I've got work to do." You yawned, and Doc chuckled softly.
"You're really stubborn sometimes, you know that?" He picked up both coffees and his noodles. "Tell you what, grab your tablet and we can get cosy in bed together. Work can wait until later, I think we've overdue some private couple time."
Nestled in the crook of Doc's arm felt like the safest place in the world, even with coffee in your system, you couldn't help but fall asleep with him. Trust and love deep rooted, he was your sanctuary.
And damn it, he was going to get you into a healthier sleep routine.
Sanford
It'd been a couple weeks since you'd seen Ford, Doc had sent him off on recon work with Deimos and a splinter group from a faction allied with the SQ, they'd been on the other side of Nevada having heard whispering of something dangerous settling out there.
Two weeks of silence left you anxious, pacing around often, skipping meals and staying up into the early hours of the morning. Longing makes the heart sick, and a sick heart makes the body weak.
The only think you could do to keep your mind occupied was cleaning out the gun stash, checking over the stocked rounds repeatedly, despite the numbers never changing, cleaning already dirt and grime free steel.
A scrubbing brush in hand, you scraped at one of the many swords Hank had salvaged, violently jolting the bristles back and forth over either rust, or really crusted on blood just above the hilt.
Doc usually kept you in the loop of long jobs, sometimes you'd even be in walkie talkie range of your partner and could hear his voice. He could be hurt, he could be dead, you'd be none the wiser, and that was maddening.
Of course you weren't needy and dependant on him, that'd be too much, but just a sign he was okay would've been enough to give you peace of mind. It's the not knowing that drove you to dark places.
Bang!
You jumped in your seat as the front door slammed. "Baby, you here? I'm back." Dropping the blade, you got to you feet and rushed to the door.
"Sanford, you're okay?!" You leaped into his arms, and he caught you easily. Oh sweet security, your world had come home to you safely.
"Yeah babe," San leaned back slightly to get a good look at you, his loving gaze turning to concern. "uh, hope you don't mind me sayin' doll/stud, but you look like hell." His hands brushed over your hair. "...When did you last shower?"
Suddenly you felt rather embarrassed, it'd been a.... couple days at least. Probably about a week since you'd stopped properly taking care of yourself. Swapping meals out for multiple junk snacks, a fucked up sleeping schedule consisting of occasional naps but mostly anxious pacing and activity.
"Uhm..." That was an answer enough for him.
"Baby," Sanford rubbed his cheek, clearing off some dust from his face. "you need to take care of yourself." He sighed and took off his sunglasses. "Have you even been eating properly?"
You didn't meet his gaze. "Okay. Tell you what," He took off his dirty tank top and tossed it aside. "I'll pull out something from the freezer, shove it in the oven while we get a nice shower, and then we can eat and get some rest." Just being near him, hearing his melodic voice again was enough to bring you to a sense of normalcy.
Sanford was fine, he was alive, he was here.
"Things have just been a bit... off without you." You sighed, clinging to his frame, almost afraid if you let him go, he'd run off for another two weeks, or longer. "Sorry, it's just been a lot to deal with, not knowing where you were, if you were safe... It's been hard."
"I get it. I do, I really do," Sanford had his own experiences with deep depression, despite being the large stoic type, the horrors of war, what he and his friends had to do to get an advantage against everything haunted him. "fight, flight, freeze is a real thing, but you can't just shut down baby. You gotta keep fightin, keep yourself in good shape 'cause it's a scary world out there."
"I know. It's easier said than done though." Sanford pulled out a tray of his legendary frozen mac n cheese, you hadn't checked the freezer since he'd left, otherwise that would've been long gone. You didn't know how he did it, but it was godly each time he made it.
"I get that." He shoved the tray into the oven, flicking switches to heat up the frozen dish. "You gotta change how you think, baby." You watched him take off his bandanna, revealing his hair. Or lack thereof.
"You shaved your head?" Usually he'd grow out his hair, style it into long locs and keep them tied back and under his bandanna, but once in a blue moon he'd get bored of maintaining them, and shave it off to start again.
Sanford ran a hand over his scalp, feeling the small curls starting to reappear. "Yeah, easier than trying to keep it clean out there. Dusty as hell." His hands came to rest on your shoulders, turning you to the bathroom. "No bother, I've got your hair to care for now. I'mma spoil you rotten."
Years of caring for his baby siblings had taught the beefcake that just telling someone what to do usually didn't help, but doing it along side them helped solidify the action. He'd help you get cleaned up, get back to eating proper food and getting proper sleep.
He needed to fall into the routine too, sleeping rough in trucks was a pain in his back, and access to his comfy old bed would do him wonders to getting decent sleep again. A full belly and his favourite person in the entire world cuddling into his pecs definitely helped too.
Yes, he needed this just as much as you did.
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nshtn · 2 months ago
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Yan!Wesker x Oblivious Virologist Reader
741 words, tw: voyeurism, unconsensual belongings-rifling, creepy-eepy social-stilted Wesker
You were so innocent that it almost hurt him. Something deep and long-dead inside of Wesker was tortured to life by the way you talked, walked... acted.
You'd do things no other scientist of any ranking with their head on ought to do.
Sometimes this was meandering through corridor after corridor on the mornings a free moment struck you to leave a coffee or some small treat at his desk. To this, he'd normally take great offense (because he can feed himself, you know, he's done it his entire life without help, and why would he need anyone else's now?), but some flame he couldn't snuff out lit him alight when he thought of asking you to stop. No, instead, he would mutter a 'thanks' as he jogged past you and, at some point in your day, you'd catch the fruits of your labor: a full shot of the man cross-legged, leaning against a metal-lined bacteria-resistant wall, the sweep of his gaze untelling as he sipped or grazed.
He found more often than not, in those moments, it landed on you. After all, you were such an interesting specimen.
Other times you'd see him pass you by and strike conversation with him as though he were any other researcher, as though when he had not first acknowledged you properly when you'd first met him it'd been simple, uncomplicated error. And his heart's highest layer wanted to ignore you and give another half-baked 'mn,' as he scurried off to some dark and dim-lit place to plot, but he found that the deepest and most pressing layer, the one he tried and failed to compress, would not allow it to be so. The thought hurt, though his social repression could scantly place why. So, instead, in that moment his head would turn to you and he would pause, turn his body fully, take in your effort to include him. How quaint. You were funny like that.
Funny...
He could hardly recall the last time he'd found another person so genuinely tolerable. Your performance in the research of reversing cell apoptosis wasn't helping. Birkin found it worthy of a raise, and that meant you were worth keeping, and the way events transpired resulted in continued contact and established routine. Wesker came to enjoy your silly socialization quirk and whatever idiotic bravado had you considering him a viable conversational partner.
His eyes kept falling to you when your back was turned. His mind ran to your opinion when the news droned on too long. And, though he could never admit it to even himself, the time you'd stopped by his desk when you'd seen him shake his head after scrutinizing a report and provided him feedback and advice past the end of the work day had you solve the initial issue.
Time only made matters worse. He'd begun actually talking back, giving you his opinion devoid of the usual serrated edge that lined his tone. He had advised you, too, once, when you came to work dejected about a failed date. You didn't deserve them anyway, he'd said. You were too smart for people like them. They didn't understand you... two. And there were occasions in which he would somehow, coincidentally, arrive at your precise station when you found yourself stuck in your work and peer over your shoulder, putting in comments that would nudge you towards success.
You were just so very funny. You were so interesting.
Even just this was enough to ascend your social position in Umbrella. People avoided you or embellished their retelling of test results when they had to interact with you, fearful that getting close to you would be some equivalency of stepping into Wesker territory. Nobody was stupid enough to stand in the man's way and risk becoming a test subject. As for which direction they leaned away from you? It was divided: half thought that getting close to you would risk that when you finally became the lamb to slaughter they, too, would bleat... the other half picked up on some scant social cue of Wesker's that dawned on them the sickening realization that associating with you would have them rended for encroaching his territory.
Ah, he was like a shark, encircling a ball of bait... no, that seemed wrong. It was all wrong. Your research was all right, bringing the corporation to a new height and gaining you the title of Head. You held no fear of him or anyone else above or below you. Worst of all, you found yourself nestled around a Kafka novel occasionally, something he discovered when he could bear no more of the absence of you when the lights dimmed and you headed for home and he was left with the scent of you, rifling through your locker and memorizing the placement of every piece.
You, too, were a shark, though your teeth were beneath you.
Wesker could fix that.
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leahnardo-da-veggie · 1 month ago
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Can I?
Can I be angry, just for a little moment? Can I scream and weep and laugh, just for a little bit? Can I let this mask fall off and this heart hurt, just for once?
I have been good for so very long. I wear my best clothes and my best face and my best words in a cloak around me, not one hair out of place. I sleep later than I would like, to fit in, and talk more than I would like, to stand out. I practise expressions in the mirror, just in case I need to switch them quickly. I try my best to be a good human.
These days, nobody notices. They call me ‘empathetic’. They say I am ‘receptive’ and ‘a lovely person to be around’. They like me, because my mask is sealed on tight and my patter is well-rehearsed. It gives me a measure of pride to have gotten a good grade in personhood, to be, by extension, a good person.
This was not always the case, however. I used to laugh when they yelled at me, cried when they cheered. I shied away from human touch, clawed at my flesh like a feral cat when afraid, acted in ways a proper human should not behave. I lived in the depths of the uncanny valley, trying and failing to climb out. 
They disdained me for it, derided me for it, despised me for it. To them, I was an alien, foreign, untrustworthy and hostile. To them, I was a robot, good for my funny little facts and clever tricks but hardly worth treating as a person, let alone a friend. To them, I was not human, not one of their people, not worthy of being amongst them.
So I lied. I painted a mask of jokes and trivia and all the things that made a person likeable. I learnt to smile through the pain of ‘fun’, of parties and events and all other forms of torture. I emoted and empathised and endured until I was a good person and I no longer wished to be.
They say humans are a social species. They say no man is an island. I say: what does that make me? Does it make me broken, a failure of a person? Does it make me evil, an antisocial psychopath? Does it make me an alien or robot, just like they said I was? 
What am I, once you peel off the mask and the lies and everything that makes me ‘human’?
I do not want to be an alien. I do not want to be a robot. I do not want to be ‘human’, if it means dancing to a tune I cannot understand and laughing at jokes I do not comprehend. I want to be me.
Can I?
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@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale
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@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter
@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3
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solomons-poison · 10 months ago
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◇ What being married to Buggy is like ◇
Buggy is the type that, once you two are married, he's constantly bringing up "My wife" to his crew, his enemies and victims, and just generally to people he doesn't even know because he's just so damn excited that you actually agreed to marry him.
The wedding was beyond flashy, possibly the noisiest and brightest celebration you've ever seen. And you can be sure everyone in a 50 mile radius is aware of your wedding. But you have to admit, your new husband can really throw a party. (He also sobs very loudly when you two are alone because he's just so in love with you and can't believe you agreed to marry him).
If he's got a ring, you can bet he's showing it off to everyone. He's likely even got a picture of you in a wallet or something and shows it off while going off on a tangent; the edges are clearly worn from how much he handles the picture.
Steals all kinds of goods to show you like some kind of courting bird, leaving you with a pile of things you don't know what to do with. Especially if it's shiny and expensive, you can bet he's bringing it back. Ends up being called "blue jay" or just "blue" for short for his colorful hair and love for shiny objects.
Buggy is quick to anger, even with his beloved wife. Arguments can end as quickly as they start, or it's a grudge that lasts ages; there is no in between. Sometimes it's over dumb shit, and sometimes it's a major miscommunication or an insecurity. It's very very difficult for him to admit fault first and apologize, sometimes causing another argument. But when he does apologize, expect some (stolen) flowers and chocolates.
If you two argue and you decide to sleep somewhere other than his bed, he WILL have a breakdown and come crying to you telling you not to leave him.
He's clingy but won't admit it. Latches on to you in his sleep and complains if you try to leave his arms, or if you mention about him holding you. He doesn't like when you leave his sight and gets noticeably grumpier until he can see you and touch you again.
He puts up a good front when around others, but in private that all changes. Might have a nervous breakdown about the fact you're married, wondering if he's worthy of you or if he tied you down to a nobody. Chances of him confessing this to you significantly increase when he's drunk, his face completely red from effects of the alcohol and he's lying across your lap or generally slumped over you. He's totally embarrassed when he wakes up.
Definitely wanted a tattoo of your face on his body and had to be convinced that it's a bad idea. Doesn't understand why.
Gets cheeky and flirty in public, especially if there's someone else that he feels is more confident or better than him around. Gets a little handsy if he sees anyone eyeing you, definitely using his detachable hands to his benefit.
Mihawk and Crocodile don't hide from openly flirting with you/checking you out, even if they're not serious about it, and it makes Buggy explode.
Completely melts when you call him all sorts of pet names, regardless of how silly they are, and will always reciprocate. "Buggy boo", "honeybunch", "sweetie pie", "sweetheart", "Bugs", "blue", are some favorites. Even when you call him "crazy clown", he loves it. However, his ultimate favorite will always be just plain "husband" (or "hubby").
He's the epitome of "my wife can do no wrong"... except when you do something that angers him or you're in an argument lmao. But only he gets to be angry at you; if anyone else complains or starts something, they're dead.
Generally, married life to Buggy is a wild one full of ups and downs. But he tries his best to make it a fulfilling one.
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