#otp: the simple act of being in love with you is enough for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noctisfishing · 3 years ago

Text

I'm Not Gonna Move

Also on: AO3 | FFN

I've indulged in one of my favorite songs with my OTP as a warm up to get back into my other fics in progress. Hope you enjoy!

Who are we kidding? I'm always indulging ;)

Summary: The song captured Taichi’s attention, the words on his lips over and over. Sora could tolerate it for only so long, but she loved him even when he acted like a fool whenever he sang those words. Even when one day, the words became a test of their relationship and influenced him to become the biggest fool of all.

Inspired by "The Man Who Can’t Be Moved" by The Script.

Characters: Sora Takenouchi, Taichi Yagami (& everyone else make an appearance)

Words: 4,781

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was one sunny afternoon with a light breeze in the air, as Sora stood with Taichi at a street corner, waiting for the stoplight to turn green. Sora wore her tote bag on one arm and Taichi slung his backpack on one side. Taichi’s peppy, off-key singing was jumping between scattered lyrics and melodies behind his humming lips. When Sora recognized the song, she turned to look at him, his expression being relaxed and carefree.

Sora recognized this very street corner as the one where they both confessed their feelings toward each other. It happened just before they graduated high school, and it happened quite suddenly, even when both of them harbored those feelings for years. Although Taichi was the one whose strength was of courage, Sora felt the more courageous one when she moved to hold his hand.

The hesitation and heightened emotions they had back then were far from their minds at that moment, especially while Sora studied Taichi’s expression. It showed her how much he liked this song. Of course, while he sang along to any song that caught his interest, she didn’t expect him to be so captured by a song like this one.

Sora’s thoughts took a pause when her eyes caught the pedestrian signal flashing with a countdown. In a panic, she grabbed Taichi’s hand, this time to hurry them both across the street. In turn, Taichi stopped his hum-singing, his eyes drawing toward her direction, but he quickly noticed the green light soon after she pulled him to walk with her.

“How did we both miss the light when it turned?” Taichi asked with amusement when they reached the other side.

“It’s simple,” Sora said. “I’ve been hanging around you too much.” She giggled when he scrunched his nose at her remark.

“If you had caught it sooner, you would’ve been scolding me for not paying attention.”

They continued to walk side-by-side, and to spare him from gloating, she decided to refrain from telling him how right he was. Regardless, maybe he had been distracted by the song, but Sora had to wonder if he would stay on that street corner had she not been there for him to follow.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Their friends and his family had taken notice of Taichi’s liking to that song. Taichi wasn’t ashamed to show it, especially during their one group karaoke night when it became known as his signature song. Sora saw him being welcomed with cheers by half of the group, Mimi, Daisuke, Takeru, Miyako, and Hikari. Jou, Iori, and Koushiro watched him with bewilderment, while Yamato kept quiet, though his amused expression was priceless.

Taichi belted into the microphone, holding up his fist as he sang with passion. At one point, he knelt on one knee in front of Sora and held out his hand toward her as he sang the lyrics of the bridge. Sora sat on the seat cushion, covering her face with her hands, half with embarrassment, half with laughter at how silly her boyfriend was.

Although Taichi could not get enough of this song, it was only a matter of time before Sora could not stand to hear it. She had told him to stop singing it one morning, when she was cooking him breakfast and he entered the kitchen. Expectedly, she told him to shut up once again when they sat down to eat. It was not until later that morning as the radio played the song when she screamed in frustration and slammed her bedroom door on him before he headed to the university for his class.

The days after that went by as they normally did. Taichi stopped by Sora’s apartment between his classes, sometimes to study with her, sometimes because he was hungry and her place was closest from the campus than home, and sometimes to spend time with her and even sleep over.

Yet, Sora took note of how quieter some moments were with him. What used to be filled with out-of-tune melodies had been replaced with silence. No longer was Taichi humming that signature song, or any song for that matter.

It had been a week before one day, Sora woke up and found herself missing it. Even as Taichi slept soundly beside her she noticed that his mood lately wasn’t as bright as it was before she snapped at him out of annoyance. She started to contemplate her apology but noticed the time on her bedside clock. She whispered Taichi’s name as she nudged him to wake up for class.

She had to push his shoulder with more force. Taichi was never easy to wake up in the mornings.

“Taichi!” she called with an ultimately scolding tone. “Get up already!”

He groaned softly, but he also had the nerve to add with his attempt of a tune: “I’m the man who can’t be moved.”

Sora smacked his shoulder in annoyance, but it took her a moment before she began to laugh.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Is he still singing that song, Sora?" Mimi asked during a lunch date with the girls a month later.

"Of course he is," Sora replied, taking a sip of her drink with a smile. Taichi hadn’t been as obsessed with that song as he was before, though it was in the forefront of her mind since he had sung it just the night before, when he had his arms wrapped around her as they lay in his bed. She found it hard to fall asleep, knowing that the way he tried to serenade her was with the full intention to make her laugh.

"Aren't the words to that song so romantic?" Miyako asked. "I mean, the guy wants the whole world to know just how much he loves that girl!"

"Yeah, I think it’s a sweet gesture," Mimi added.

"Sweet, but over-the-top," said Hikari.

"What do you think, Sora?" Miyako asked.

"To be honest, I think the guy in the song seems desperate."

Both Mimi and Miyako gasped.

"What?!" Miyako cried.

"Does he have to draw that much attention to himself for the girl to notice? She would have already let him know whether or not she loved him back before their fallout, and if she didn't, then he would be wasting his time."

"You say that like all girls are sure about love," replied Mimi.

"I'd bet that you would act differently if you were in the girl's shoes, Sora," Hikari added.

Sora was taken aback this time. "How so?"

"What if Taichi pulled a stunt like that for you?"

“That would be silly.”

“You know, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that,” Mimi thought aloud.

“Same,” said Miyako.

He wouldn’t, would he? What would possess Taichi to wait for her out in the street? They have had their fair share of disagreements, some small and petty bickering matches and some that were serious enough for one of them to leave the room for the two of them to cool off. Those fights had been settled, but Sora could hardly imagine that even a bigger, more serious conflict would drive Taichi to that kind of madness.

Sora sipped her drink again, and her thoughts suddenly dissipated when she noticed three pairs of eyes watching her expectantly.

“He wouldn’t!” she said, trying to sound adamant but she knew she looked flustered. She wondered if it sounded at all convincing to her three friends.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Then, one night, they had the biggest fight in their relationship. It happened after having dinner with both of their families at the Takenouchi family dinner table. Sora’s mother, Toshiko, had just announced how proud she was of Sora dedicating a lot of time with her to practice ikebana. Susumu, Taichi’s father, liked to comment on certain topics that Sora had found offensive, but Sora kept quiet out of politeness. It was at this dinner that Taichi had finally snapped toward his father, yet to Sora’s dismay, Toshiko gave words of protest to both Susumu and Taichi. Both Sora and Taichi’s mother Yuuko joined forces to intervene and help calm everyone down.

The shouting should have ended there, but it only continued between Sora and Taichi when they reached her apartment. Taichi argued that having this dinner was a bad idea, especially knowing that their parents would clash as they did before their dinner plates.

“You could’ve said something, Sora!” he said, his voice raised. “You shouldn’t have let this build up all of this time until now.”

“What about you?” she argued back. “If you didn’t say anything-”

“Then, what? Your mother would have disapproved of me less than she already did?”

“You’re not listening to me, Taichi, she always liked you! If anything, it’s your father who doesn’t like me!”

“Don’t try to sweep this aside, Sora. I know what’s happening, and I know you know it, too. Your mother’s been forcing you to focus on arranging flowers and spending less time with me.”

“Taichi, you know how much time it takes to practice and to help her out. What about you and your midterm exams? We’re both busy. Please don’t take it the wrong way.”

“No, Sora. When was the last time we spent time together? We barely have time to meet for the small lunch breaks I have between classes. Our phone conversations get cut off when you forget to mention that you have ikebana sessions with your mom. Something that I’m not even sure you want to pursue. Is that what you really want? To follow your mother’s footsteps instead of what you actually want to do?”

“Taichi…” Sora’s voice trembled. She was certain that the events of the evening on top of the stress of his studies had gotten to his head, but Taichi’s words that rang with force stung her more than whatever words were spewed at the night’s dinner table. “Taichi, maybe we should call it a night.”

“Yeah.” Taichi’s eyes averted her gaze. His expression was serious but contemplative, as though he knew any more words from his mouth might hurt the both of them even more.

“Did you want to stay the night?” she asked.

He sighed, still not looking toward her. “Not tonight. I think I'm going back to my place. I can’t stay here right now.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. She watched as he got up from the couch, and she wondered if he was going to turn around to look back at her. She waited for him to say, “I’ll call you tomorrow,” or even, “Goodnight.” Her eyes followed him to the door, where he took his jacket off of the coat hanger, put his arms into the sleeves, then walked through the door and quietly closed the door behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Two weeks had passed, and the second thing Sora thought of on the morning of her ikebana exhibition was to get dressed in her kimono, with a hairstyle of her mother’s approval.

Her first thought was about Taichi. Other than sending him a text saying, ‘good luck’ for his exams, Sora hadn’t spoken to him since the night of their big fight, and she decided not to bother him to give him time to focus on his exams. And maybe, give him time to think about their relationship.

The anticipation of the exhibition had Sora’s heart racing. Sora and her mother had traveled from Odaiba to Kyoto for this exhibition, and Sora felt that her display was the best she had ever arranged.

But it was also important to Sora, because she planned to tell Toshiko once they were both dressed that this exhibition was going to be her last.

Toshiko turned away from Sora after her announcement, appearing as though the wind had been knocked out of her with her hand grasping her chest. Sora held her arm around her mother’s shoulder with concern and also apprehension. She knew that her mother cherished the time spent with Sora, and her devotion with ikebana, and Sora relished in her mother’s praises. But Sora also knew in her heart that this was one thing she didn’t want to do forever.

“You should have told me this sooner,” Toshiko said, sadly.

“I know, Mom,” Sora replied, hesitant. “I just didn’t want to… to disappoint you.”

Tears bubbled in Sora’s eyes at her admittance, and she saw her mother’s face soften.

“Oh, dear child.” Toshiko turned to face Sora and cupped her hands on either side of her face. “I will always be proud of you. I’m sad that this isn’t what you want, but what makes me even more proud is for you to follow your heart.”

“Mom…” Sora felt the tears stream down her cheeks, relief washing over her as she shared an embrace with her mother. When they pulled apart, Toshiko thumbed Sora’s tears away gently and gave her a warm smile.

“Let’s make this last one count, then,” Toshiko said. “Say, will Taichi show up?”

“Taichi?” Sora asked.

“I called the Yagami residence earlier to give him a personal invitation before we left, but his father answered and said he wasn’t sure. ‘Sometimes, I don’t know where on this earth that boy goes,’ he said.”

“Oh…” Sora replied with surprise. “It sounds like you and Yagami-san are getting along.”

“Sure! We even apologized to each other for our behavior that evening. He even said that I didn’t have to, it was all his doing. He even wants to apologize to you in person, Sora.”

“That’s thoughtful of him.” Sora gave a small smile, but wondered where Taichi had been in all of this. She really missed him.

Looking out of the window, Sora noticed the gray clouds expanding against the blue sky, and she wondered if rain was going to be in the day’s forecast. Luckily for her, she had the fortune of being inside and covered by a roof to worry about that. Soon, she was standing next to her flower display at the exhibition, greeting the judges and onlookers with a smile and a bow.

The hours flew by, and before she knew it, the exhibition was over. To think, after this event, she would be able to pursue the things she was passionate about, and spend more time with the people she loved. Sora thought about this as she boarded the train with Toshiko back to Odaiba, holding her large umbrella above their heads underneath the heavy downpour.

Sora felt relaxed and clear-headed after the success of her final exhibition, and with Toshiko resting soundly in the seat next to her, Sora wanted to look onward and see what her friends were up to. She felt guilty for not being able to contact anyone for the last few days, as for some reason the area she was in in Kyoto had terrible reception.

She took her phone out from her purse, thinking about the possibility of meeting up with the girls for dinner later that evening, or even lunch the next day.. There seemed to be excitement with the girls, however, as Sora noted the number of message notifications in their group chat seemed to be the largest. Not to mention the few missed calls and messages from her other friends.

Before Sora tapped on the group chat notification, a new notification popped up from Mimi, inviting her to the video chat. She accepted, and was greeted by Mimi’s look of surprise.

“Wow, look at you, Sora!” Mimi cried in awe.

“You look beautiful!” added Miyako when her face popped up next to Mimi’s. “Oh, that’s right! You had your exhibition today.”

“Yeah,” Sora said with a smile. “It was actually my last one.”

The two of them gasped.

“Whaat?” Mimi said. “I want details!”

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Sora lowered her voice and turned the phone volume down, hoping that she and her friends weren’t too loud for the other passengers. “So, what’s going on? I saw you left a lot of messages in the group chat.”

“You mean you didn’t read them?” Miyako asked. “Oh my gosh! And where is Hikari!”

“I don’t know, I’m trying to call her to join, too!” said Mimi. “Sora, you won’t believe what’s happening!”

“Tell me,” Sora requested in a hushed voice.

Mimi’s eyes widened with excitement. “It’s Taichi - he’s gone crazy!”

Sora blinked. “What?” What do you mean?”

Miyako groaned. “It would be a lot easier to explain with Hikari’s video evidence, she’s there with him now-”

“I know, right?” Mimi said. “I’m trying to get a hold of her…”

Sora found herself ignored by her two friends’ distractions and decided to try to find the answer herself. With their bantering in her background, Sora tapped into the group messages and quickly scrolled through, finding a string of messages with short exclamations in all capital letters.

Finally, Hikari’s face appeared on the screen.

“Aah!” Miyako screamed excitedly. “There she is!”

“Girls, I give up,” Hikari replied with a sullen expression.

“Hikari!” Sora spoke over Miyako and Mimi to cut to the chase. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“Sora…” It was as though Hikari was looking straight at her through her phone. “I’m so fed up with him. I’ve tried to talk him out of it but he was adamant in sitting himself out here.”

“Out ‘here’? Out where?”

Hikari mentioned the cross street and Sora recognized it immediately.

“He swore he had his reasons,” Hikari continued. “He couldn’t find you when he went looking for you.”

“Did no one tell him where I was going?”

“Did you?” Mimi asked.

Sora opened her mouth to respond, but her voice didn’t come out.

He’s been out here since this morning,” said Hikari. “I got Takeru and Yamato to show up and try to talk sense into him. He’s not gonna move. And you know, Daisuke only showed up to cheer him on, only after heckling, though…”

Sora pressed her palm against her face, in disbelief of what was happening. Taichi was at least rational enough not to follow the lyrics of a song, she told herself. He would have called her, left her messages, waited for her to reach out to him when she had the chance.

She minimized the video chat and realized there were more notifications on her phone. Missed calls from Taichi from the last couple of days, and text messages asking where she was.

Sora realized then, that he did call her, and he did leave her messages.

“Show me where he is,” she said, and on command, Hikari rotated her phone camera. There he stood on the street corner, idly moving about and holding a cardboard sign in one hand. She couldn’t make out what he had written on it, but she noticed there were a few people passing by with their attention caught on. She watched him wave his hand to a couple and shake his head, a gesture for them to keep whatever they attempted to offer him.

“He’s waiting for you, Sora,” Hikari explained.

Sora’s breath caught at the confirmation.

“That… that idiot,” she said, not knowing how to express all of her emotions at once.

“We were right, weren’t we?” Miyako chirped. “That he would actually pull this stunt.”

“Yeah, but it still surprises you, doesn’t it?” asked Mimi.

“I can’t believe him…” Sora said, her face now buried in both of her hands.

“Aah!” Hikari yelped suddenly. “It’s starting to rain! I don’t have an umbrella! I’m sorry girls, I have to go.”

As Sora heard this, she removed her hands from her face and stared back at her screen. “Hikari, find cover, and tell Taichi to get out of there, too.”

Sora and her friends exchanged their goodbyes, but Sora knew that Taichi would be too stubborn to listen. After all, he claimed to be ‘The Man Who Can’t Be Moved’.

~*~*~*~*~*~

After two grueling hours, the train stopped at the station. Sora had explained to Toshiko as soon as she woke up that she had to see Taichi as soon as she arrived in Odaiba. Although this left Toshiko confused, she gave Sora the okay to do so.

So, once the train doors flew open at the stop, Sora broke off into a run. She ran as fast as she could in her kimono, the umbrella above her head protecting her from most of the rain that poured down. Onlookers stared at her as she ran past, but she paid no mind - she just needed to get to that corner.

As she expected, Taichi was still where she had seen him hours ago. She stopped at the corner across the street, panting as she caught her breath. She saw him sitting on the side of the building, wearing his jeans and a dark jacket that had a hood to cover his head. He sat against the side of the building underneath a canopy for cover from the rain, but that didn’t change the fact that he had been in the cold for so long.

She stepped toward him until she stood above him, and she made him look up as soon as she called his name.

"Sora-!" Taichi stared in at her in wondrous awe, though she looked down at him with a frown.

"Taichi, why are you out here in the rain like this?" she asked, her mind racing with thoughts on how to respond next.

"It wasn't raining when I first got here."

"Taichi."

"I didn't know what else to do, Sora. I know we both didn't really talk after that night, and I took that time for some space. I was thinking that you needed the same. But when you didn't answer when I called, I guess I panicked and thought that you would end up finding your way here, one way or another. We always find ourselves on this corner, anyway."

Guilt crept into her as she realized that she had failed to tell him about her trip to Kyoto. She didn’t anticipate the bad cell phone signals, but she didn’t think about how the silence from her could affect someone, especially for Taichi.

"It made me wonder if you didn't want to be near me at all. I just, didn't wanna lose you."

Sora’s heart fluttered in her chest. She looked into his eyes that stared up into hers, looking apologetic. She shifted her gaze and her eyes caught the cardboard sign that now lay flat on the floor, its color drenched into a darker brown that fit the asphalt of the sidewalk. The words written in black were still sharp and legible. She knew that any stranger walking by would be confused by them, but as she read those words, she knew they were just for her.

“I’m sorry,” they read.

Sora gripped the umbrella tightly in one hand, and held out her free hand down to Taichi. She knew that he had been persistent about staying in his spot all day, based on the lamenting from Hikari and their friends. Even in the way he sat, his shoulders slumped, his knees bent up toward his chest, his posture seemed to shout out, “I’m not gonna move.”

But it was only a few seconds of pause before Taichi reached his hand toward hers, letting her help him up with a pull to get him back on the flat of his shoes. He was now looking down at her, his eyes yearning, and she looked up at him, the umbrella covering the two of them from the heavy rain, yet the drops she felt were from the tears streaming down her cheeks.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sora knew that Taichi was going to follow her, so used that to her advantage when leading him to her apartment.

“Sora,” he began as soon as they walked through the front door.

“Shoes,” she replied, slipping the geta from her feet, then bending down to remove the tabi socks that had gotten damp from all the commotion. She took Taichi’s jacket and socks, and she walked briskly to her room to hang them in her bathroom to dry. Then, she grabbed two pairs of woolen socks, along with a towel as well as a pair of jogging pants, a cotton shirt and a hoodie for Taichi to change into.

When she returned to her living room, Taichi was sitting on a dining room chair, and Sora let out a ‘tsk’.

“I’m surprised you were wise enough not to sit on the couch, considering the fact that you sat in the rain.”

“Sora…”

“Here, change into this.” She handed him the fresh set of clothing for him, and he got up, obligingly taking off his jeans and putting on the jogging pants.

“Can we talk about this?”

“Hurry up and get out of that shirt,” Sora said, pushing the clean T-shirt close to his face.

Taichi sighed, pulling the damp shirt off of his back and taking the shirt from Sora’s hand, his own brushing against hers in the process.

His hand was cold. How was he not shivering? A burst of worry flooded into her mind at the thought of how long he stood out in the rain before deciding to find cover. The jacket was drenched and his shirt was damp, meaning the rain had soaked through to his skin.

“Put on this jacket,” she ordered, her voice softer now, and Taichi quietly raised his arms for her to put it on over him. After that, she grabbed the towel to wrap it around his shoulders and behind his neck.

Finally, Sora took a seat on Taichi’s lap. She ran her hands over his hair which had some dampness, and then brushed against his ears and cheeks that still felt cold.

“Can we talk now?” Taichi asked.

“Only if you let me talk first,” she replied. “Don’t you realize how much of an idiot you are? So you do this grand gesture, but look at yourself! You’re cold and wet and I wouldn’t be surprised if you came down with a fever and a runny nose. I love you too much to lose you like this!”

“I know,” Taichi said, averting his gaze like a child being scolded by his mother.

“But…” Sora moved to rest her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m an idiot, too. We left things up in the air after that fight. We hardly talked, and I should have tried harder to talk to you instead of letting myself focus on other things. I didn’t even mention to you that I was going to travel to Kyoto for an ikebana exhibition, and that it was my last one.”

“What? It was your last one?” Taichi asked in surprise.

“It was.”

“Sora, I…” She heard Taichi pause and take a deep breath. “I feel terrible about what I said before. I should have supported you instead of bringing you down. If that really was your dream-”

“But Taichi, it wasn’t!” Sora lifted her head to look into his eyes. “It might have hurt, but you were right in the end. It was something I needed to hear, even if I wanted to avoid it. If anything, I have you to thank.”

“I still want to apologize, Sora. I want to be there for you, even if it’s hard for the both of us.”

“I’m sorry, too, Taichi. I want to be by your side, always. I want us to talk more. I know that’s not my strongest suit, to tell you how I really feel.”

“Well, it’s frustrating when you don’t talk to me, Sora, but you sure know how to show how you feel when you do.”

“That’s not an excuse…” Sora mumbled.

“You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, either. I mean, look at what’s happening here. You made sure that I was warm and bundled up, woolen socks included. And you’re still in your kimono with your feet bare.”

She felt a gentle touch on her forehead as he traced a strand of her hair with the tips of his fingers.

“I love you too, you know,” he added.

Sora smiled. “You’ve made that loud and clear. Now, please promise me you won’t do this to yourself again.”

Taichi said nothing.

“Taichi.” Sora’s brows furrowed.

Taichi remained expressionless, to Sora’s frustration.

“Taichi!”

Now that Sora was flustered, Taichi began to laugh.

“I promise.”

“Good,” she replied, searching his eyes for an answer to change her skepticism. His expression was still playful, so to her disdain, she never got it. This man was hopeless.

But she still loved him, so there was that. Drawing his face toward hers with her hands, she kissed him and he eagerly returned, a feeling she welcomed after so long.

#taiora #taiora fanfiction #takenouchi sora #yagami taichi #digimon fanfiction #noctiswriting #You must know how happy I am write now #I wrote a thing #and I'm posting it

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demonslayedher · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I don't know if you've been asked about this before but I love your analysis and reflections and I'd love to know all your thoughts about Zennezu if you don't mind 👀⚡🎀 Thanks so much for this blog!! 😊💝

Thank you again for your patience, as well as your comments on my fics and stuff in the meantime (even on Bird Fic, kya~ thank you <3). All my thoughts, hmmmmn…. Well, clearly I am a fluffy ZenNezu shipper and ship-content creator now, but I sure didn’t start that way. This may be long and rambling and mixed between analysis and personal taste. (Actually, it turned into almost 4000 words.)

So. First a little background. I usually am not much of a shipper. The very few OTPs I have all ended in horrific tragedy, and when romance is a big focus of something I’m otherwise enjoying I usually end up not paying much attention to it in favor of all the other elements I like. This is so much more the case when you can tell they’re going to wind up happily ever after. So what happened to make me so soft and fuzzy about the Kimetsu ships, when I otherwise usually don’t have an appetite for happy fluffy romantic endings?

Three major factors: 1. I’m obsessed. 2. I love these characters and want to see anything and everything about them. 3. Romance wasn’t actually a big element at all in canon, so it left me with an appetite and curiosity for it.

Even though I figured from long ago that ZenNezu would be end game, initially I was somewhere between indifferent and put-off. As much as I love Zenitsu, and I acknowledge that Ufotable the added the “run around and chase Nezuko” bit and removed the part with Zenitsu adoringly talking to Nezuko through her box, and as much as he can be defended for being lonely rather a pervert, the fact still stands that his level of appreciation for girls makes the characters around him uncomfortable. His most cringe-worthy lines at the Butterfly Mansion are all straight from the manga, and even though he was easily one of my favorite characters by the end of my initial watch of the series, I was very put off by his “girls are all queens” surface-level comments and more disturbing pleasure he took in the presence of girls (especially when he could physically interact with them), not to mention his pathetic introduction bothering a complete stranger and displaying that he doesn’t actually take girls’ feelings into consideration.

All this made me inwardly groan, feeling bad for Nezuko, figuring they were going to wind up together because she’s a saint who can find the patience to deal with someone like that, as he clearly wasn’t going to be desirable to any of the rest of the female cast. Enjoying the series well enough despite this, it didn’t bother me terribly much, pairings happen, whatever, I have a history of ignoring them. But one day, well and deep into caring about this whole cast like they’re all my children, I realized something. Isn’t… isn’t it cute how they both get their strength from taking naps? W-wouldn’t it be cute to see them innocently take naps together? Naps to protect each other? Oh. Oh-h-h-h-h. Oh dear. Oh no, it’s cute. Oh no. OH NO.

And that was how my warming up to this pairing started, it very quickly grew into “I love these children and I want them to be happy, being with Nezuko will make Zenitsu very, very happy, I love seeing him happy, happy Zenitsu” but was still a little reserved about Nezuko. Zenitsu was going to make her happy, right? It wasn’t just going to be a case of Nezuko having gotten fond of him over the course of everything they’ve been though, he is actually going to be her taste and make her heart go “kyun” right? Oh Nezuko, oh saintly Nezuko…

Let’s take a moment to pause here and think chronologically, though, as well as analyze their personalities and tastes. Neither of them are particularly picky, we can start there. Aside from fussy busy-bodies like Aoi, as long as it’s a girl, any girl is Zenitsu’s type. He’s desperate, and he’s painted the whole of girl-kind in pretty similar, not always realistic rosy colors. Even though he’s been used and abused by so many girls in his past, it’s his desire to believe that each new one he meets will fit that rosy imaginary color he paints over them that he chooses to let himself be duped, because he really is that lonely. I’ll give him that, sure, he’s a healthy young man with an interest in physical touch, but his dream in Mugen Ressha gives a good indication of what he’s really looking for: companionship, someone who likes spending time with him, someone who will find him useful and believe in him and look to him for protection, someone who likes him enough to spare him the physical intimacy of simply holding his hand. This is all an extension of what Zenitsu desires as whole, hoping he can better himself enough to be reliable and valued in general. Picturing it in the form of a significant other is one very vivid way to focus all those feelings, resulting in that rosy ideal which Zenitsu probably knows in his heart of hearts is too good to be true. That’s why he probably doesn’t think he’s ever going to find it, and therefore why he’s all over any slightest chance of attaining it.

My gosh, if being abandoned over and over isn’t enough, the fact that none of the girls he dated in the past were ever willing to even hold his hand hurts so much.

Nezuko, though, grew up in a secure family with a good relationship to observe between her parents. She probably always envisioned growing up to be like her mother, the quintessential “good wife, wise mother” (a phrase coined later on in the Taisho period to idealize the traditional roles of a woman). She cooks and cleans and sews and the first fanbook even tells us she was good at using an abacus, so she can handle family finances like a pro. Her traditional values probably made her tastes pretty standard, hoping for a reliable protector, but also someone who might be as kind as her father and her brother. But as for what makes her heart go doki-doki? The extra comic at the end of volume 3 tells us that she does long since have a type, it’s a person who’s like a Hisha.

Hisha: a chess/Shougi piece that can move an unlimited number of spaces in horizontal and vertical directions, and is crowned a dragon when it enters enemy territory.

So, yes, this is the part where we all smile and point at Gotouge and say, “I see what you did there, Wani-sensei.”

I find this reassuring; it tells me that Nezuko can find her heart squeezed at how cool Zenitsu is instead of just coming around and liking him because she was flattered by his affection and learned to see how nice he is and stuff. There are plenty of nice Demon Slayers who are strong and cool protectors, but that ZING that Zenitsu has (when he’s asleep) is something that can make her heart race. I’m all for this. I hinge so much of my ZenNezu feelings on this Hisha comment.

The second fanbook states that Nezuko initially had trouble sorting out her memories, and because Zenitsu gave her two such different impressions, it felt like memories of two different people, but over time the memories overlapped to form one complete person. We could say that she and Zenitsu had two first meetings.

Initially, when she was in the box, her little demon heart did go doki-doki; it was the first time a boy besides her brother had protected her, so even though Oniichan is Number One in her heart for the general duration of canon, this encounter was sure to leave a flattering impression. However, when they met face to face that night, he was just some confusing dandelion yelling and screaming about weird stuff, and then he was just a confusing (and possible bothersome) dandelion wanting to hang around her and give her flowers and stuff. It’s anyone’s guess just how “there” Nezuko was at this stage, as she does seem to gain back more of her own will and thought processes over the course of the series, rather than being guided by very, very simple rules to govern her behavior.

Zenitsu feel in love at first sight, and the second fanbook tells us he asked Tanjiro about her human personality, seeing as she wasn’t fully there. He was initially doubtful that anyone so perfect as Nezuko could exist and figured Tanjiro must had been biased and therefore exaggerating, but can we blame Zenitsu for being a smidge guarded? He’s been let down a lot, after all.

We know from Taisho Secrets and side novels that Zenitsu spent a lot of time with Nezuko during their long recovery at the Butterfly Mansion. Even how much more thought we see Nezuko display in the Train arc, she probably underwent a lot of mental development in this time, and my guess is that due to how much he interacted with her, this is probably when Zenitsu went from being a strange dandelion to a strange companion. She probably focused more on the goldfish and the pretty flowers (which he did take her to see!) and any flattering mention of her brother, though. Zenitsu, I’m relieved to say, seemed to genuinely care about what would make Nezuko happy instead of selfishly assuming something like “she likes me too, she wants to marry me.” But knowing Zenitsu, he probably assumed that her willingness to spend time with him was an indication of being willing to talk marriage once she was more herself again, though.

Let’s pause here and put on our Oniichan goggles, though. Early on, Tanjiro has to insist to just about everyone that Nezuko is still her own person with her own thoughts and feelings. Being a demon has taken a lot of her freedom to act on her true nature away from her, but he knows she’s still in there and he treats her like an equal human being. He had to watch over and over as people see his sister and only think, “demon.”

And then there’s his friend Zenitsu, who looks at her and thinks, “girl. Girl! Girl. Girl. Sweet girl, adorable girl, best girl in the world.” And maybe that’s a little bothersome, but yes, someone gets it!! Someone understands! Even though Tanjiro’s initial concerns are keeping Nezuko from being bothered by unwelcome advances, as long as Zenitsu is willing to respect that Nezuko is not entirely able to speak for herself now, he seems pretty approving of Zenitsu (provided Nezuko decides she likes him back). I’d like to think there was an unspoken promise between bros on what boundaries to follow. Besides that, Tanjiro believes in Zenitsu a lot more than Zenitsu believes in himself, so Tanjiro probably wasn’t worried about the “strong protector” role a future husband should fulfil. Or at least, Tanjiro doesn’t seem concerned once he gets to know Zenitsu, he’d have rejected Zenitsu flat-out on that first meeting. Zenitsu, you are so lucky Tanjiro is so forgiving.

However, for as much as Zenitsu sees Nezuko as “GIRL!! Girl, girl, girl!”, he’s still got his rosy vision that conveniently clouds out any disturbing realities. She is, after all, a demon.

This is something Zenitsu never actually had the chance to struggle with, and I would have really liked to see him challenged by that reality a bit more. He never witnessed Nezuko’s berserker mode, nor did he ever see her struggle to keep from eating someone, he wasn’t even awake to watch her fight like a violent animal/angry toddler on the train. Had there been a scene of Zenitsu forced to face how terrifying she had potential to be, it would had really sold his commitment to Nezuko specifically, instead of only Nezuko as his most likely girlfriend candidate.

On the train, Nezuko has the good fortune of seeing another side of Zenitsu, getting one hell of a doki-doki moment. As she’s gaining more self-awareness back, it probably made those doki-dokis more complex too. While I understand there wasn’t a good opportunity to fit in the pace of the story, I love that Taisho Secret of her concerned about him before he wakes up. Instead of him just being that boy who shows her pretty things and says nice things about her Oniichan, this is when he starts becoming something a little more unique among all the people whom little demon Nezuko has bet and who have been nice to her.

In the months that follow, we don’t get much deviation from this slow development. Zenitsu’s feelings toward Nezuko don’t really change at all, but there’s another thing about this ship: neither one chose the other over anybody else. They sort of just came together, Zenitsu gets hooked on one girl at a time, but what if someone had come along with an interest in him? At what point would he had given up on Nezuko? Probably pretty quickly, if someone was serious enough about him. It wouldn’t have been a break up either, since he was still in the pursuing stages (might be more of a break-up conversation with Tanjiro, who had been tacitly supportive).

Actually, for most of the remainder of the series, the affection that Nezuko and Zenitsu build for each other is done when they’re apart, dwelling on their thoughts of each other. For Nezuko, we see this come out after the Swordsmith Village arc in her sunlit elation to see him again, and her efforts to greet him. She very clearly recognizes him and is happy to see him, a big difference compared to how she was more elated by the sight of a fishbowl before. In Zenitsu’s case, this deepening of his affections and running away with his thoughts and feelings results him declaring once and for all, this is her. He’s found her. This is the girl who he will be committed to his whole life, in his heart she is already his wife.

When human!Nezuko is gaining her memories back, her first impressions are of the boy showing her pretty things and giving her flowers, someone who probably has a crush on her, rather than thinking back to someone who she may have had a crush on. (Those cool impressions probably hit her later, I’m assuming, given the stress of the moment.) Romance is not immediately on her mind, though she does quickly recall having friendly affection for this boy for has always been so sweet to her. And Nezuko, handling his surprising level of affection gracefully, helps Zenitsu off the battlefield while he’s in terrible pain (though she probably was too, my poor girl, that fight with demon!Tanjiro was so rough). But honestly, not only is she probably too overwhelmed by everything to think much about romance, but she probably doesn’t take Zenitsu very seriously initially. She knows he’s got a tendency to overexaggerate, and it’s nice that he’s so sweet to her, but since he acts all fluffy and silly around her she probably thinks he’s not being that serious either. Furthermore, she’s got a lot of people to suddenly care about, Zenitsu has a lot to contend with for trying to get special attention. Hell, Zenitsu was probably awake and causing a racket while she was frantic with worry that comatose Giyuu might die. While she did remake Jiichan’s haori to fit Zenitsu’s later, see spent her time in the hospital mending Giyuu’s haori (Nezuko, baby, doesn’t your hand hurt though!?). While Zenitsu was swept up in happy “Nezuko is human now, we’re totally gonna get married” feels, he probably didn’t even notice that he was only one slice in a very big pie of memories that Nezuko suddenly found in her lap and had to slowly chew and digest.

So… this brings us to the extra post-canon comic in the second fanbook, which I initially did not like very much back when it came out in February. I’ve come around a lot to it, but what really hit me at first was “oh no, Nezuko really is only going to accept this marriage because she’s a saint, he’s not being desirable at all.”

But, treating it with a little more patience and sympathy for Zenitsu… he’s just gotten what he’s always wanted, of course he’s going to stop striving a bit and get blissfully carried away in it. And Nezuko, the ever sweet, isn’t going to stop him.

Some of the other commentary in the fanbook states that Zenitsu, for a time, found himself terrified of how girls could be sweet to his face while hiding their true thoughts about him. But, finding that Nezuko was not at all two-faced, he nearly “died and went to heaven” as the exaggeration goes. He doesn’t like to work hard in the first place (but does, because it will make people like Jiichan proud), so getting away with being spoiled is too big of a temptation to resist. Nezuko is sensitive to what makes the people around her happy or uncomfortable, so she never makes any request of Zenitsu. She’s so grateful to have their new little family that her happiness is everyone else’s happiness, she doesn’t really desire a heartthrob romance, even if being a wife and mother is an eventual goal. And, without being under any pressure to make someone proud, Zenitsu gets swept away and indulges.

Thank you, Tanjiro, for putting a stop to this.

He’s still rooting for Zenitsu, since this is his friend and he knows it would make his friend happy to wind up with Nezuko, but he’s setting himself up for failure, or setting Nezuko up to be cheated out on a good match at this rate (if she were to accept out of being nice). Very, very thankfully, Zenitsu responds well to pressure. By this point Nezuko has gotten so used to sweet but indulgent Zenitsu that he seems she totally accepted that his Hisha side didn’t exist anymore, if it even existed in the first place.

Good for Zenitsu asking for her response a year later (when they’d be getting to the legal marriage ages for the Taisho period anyway), he knew he still had shaping up to do to earn her affection. And Nezuko probably needed time to build some admiration for him again, since the doki-dokis were so gone. Even if he couldn’t use that super cool Thunder Breath anymore, it would probably catch her attention to see him strive again, to put effort into being manly, specifically for her. It wasn’t just the Thunder Breath that gave her doki-dokis, it was the Hisha knight-like attitude too, whether asleep and acting on his inner potential, or awake and bravely defending her based on his own goodness and faith.

I hope that in their married life, Zenitsu will retain that sort of manliness in being a provider for her, even he does get indulged a lot at home.

Now for how this plays into some of my fanwork and headcanons:

You know how I said all my OTPs were tragedies? Yeah, I love a good dose of angst. I did start writing a single-scene fic one time of injured Zenitsu desperately trying to cover Nezuko from the sun while waiting for Tanjiro to find them, and in Nezuko’s panic about the sun she starts losing her self-control over her appetite, and Zenitsu is forced to confront that the girl he loves could very easily kill him. I never finished it, though, and it was embarrassingly self-indulgent.

For my big favorite AU of a monster fanfic, I did add more ZenNezu on the massive edit, because by this point I just enjoy ZenNezu so much that I wanted more of it. But!! What I really like about working with it in this fic is that there’s a conflict: Demon!Tanjiro. In this canon divergence, Human!Nezuko and Zenitsu get to interact more than they ever did while she was a demon, and they both already have affection for each other, but the lingering fact that Tanjiro is technically their enemy gives me some tension and angst to work with.

Yes, I wrote a One Shot of Zenitsu and Nezuko as fresh new parents, but it was a bit of a dark dive into Zenitsu’s feelings of inadequacy. But domesticity comes with some inevitable fluff anyway, and likewise it felt embarrassing indulgent, and I can’t write fluff without a little bittersweetness. M…maybe the reason I’m not a shipper is because I’m easily flustered???

I’d like to think that Zenitsu got a desk job that he worked hard at because he wants to be a provider, and Nezuko does find his hard work attractive. I headcanon it was at an electric company, because hahahaha, electricity. I’d like to think he had a long career in that company (and although his colleagues know him for having a bit of an extreme personality and being obsessed with his wife, they sometimes catch glimpses of a very, very strong side of Zenitsu—like, scarily strong), and that when he’s old and retired in the Postwar Economic Miracle, he buys a fancy camera to take pictures of Nezuko (instead of “say cheese” it’s “Thunderclap and Flash!”), and he takes Nezuko to Paris because that’s the romantic thing to do. Also, I don’t like moustaches as a rule, but I totally approve of old man Zenitsu having a fluffy moustache.

World War Two, though… I’d like to think that if his job had him in the city, he was extremely reliable when it came to protecting his family in case of bombing. I’d also like to think that this was when the Kamado family moved to the city, because Nezuko was worried about Kanao and her nieces and nephews, so Zenitsu made sure they were all together. Inosuke might had taken the opposite route and taken his family to the mountains to shelter out there in the wild.

AAAAHHHH, listen to me being so self-indulgent with headcanons, I pride myself on sticking close to canon in my fanwork, I will never produce this, AAAAHHHH, I’m embarrassed~~~~I---I’m not a shipper! No! I don’t have a shipper’s bone in my body! Who needs romance, it means nothing to me, I don’t get swept up in happy fantasies about young newlywed Zenitsu and Nezuko, really I don’t, I take what canon gives me and I stick with it, I’m here for bromance and comradery and fights to the death, I—I don’t need disgusting fluffy feelings, ew, ew, no, really-----ahhh, too flustered, too flustered, too flustered, no, no, no, no, no, no, WHEN DID I BECOME A SHIPPER, nnnnnnnnhhhhjjjj

Which is all to say that Zenitsu and Nezuko as a pairing really grew on me, even though it is essentially a fluffy happy pairing that only got surface-level interaction and was never seriously challenged. It’s got some shadows lurking in there, especially diving into Zenitsu’s heart, but in general this was a slow build-up of mutual affection between two characters with pretty simple desires of their own, and most of all, a desire to see each other happy. That makes it a good comfort ship.

And they’re both are sleepyheads, hNNNGGGHHHhhhhHHHHHHHHHHH

#4000 words over the course of which I slowly begin to lose my cool #Zennezu #Zenitsu x Nezuko #Agatsuma Zenitsu #Kamado Nezuko #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kny #demon slayer #KnY Fandom Theories and Meta

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haifengg · 4 years ago

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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Lucas can’t really go without affection. He needs a smooch at least before he leaves the house or when he says goodbye on dates. He wants to be reminded that their S/O loves him and that he loves them. It’s as easy as this.

B = Before (What were they like when they had a crush?) Dude would try to impress. With bad jokes. With flexing his guns. He would always ask his crush if they want to come with him and the guys to do whatever. And if they agree he wouldn’t really be able to hide his excitement. It would light a spark of pure joy in his eyes. It would be very obvious really.

C = Confession (What was their confession like?) Regardless of his looks and height Lucas still is a very childish man and he’s not that old either. I would honestly go that far and say that during his life he wasn’t the one confessing often. He usually got confessed to. So when it is actually his turn he would probably get all shy around his crush and he maybe asked Kun for advice as well on how to tell them and what to say since he is not the very best with words.

D = Date (What was the first official date they went on?) I am guessing something cheesy. Lucas may or may not be a romantic person but being all nervous about fulfilling expectations and doing a solid job he would take their S/O out to go an amusement park. He is a child really and his sometimes subtle playfulness is probably what attracts his S/O to him as well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Please don’t come for me on this one but I recon he would choose a text. As I mentioned in section C = Confession I imagine him being this popular kid in school everyone had a crush on at least once a week. (We’ve all seen the pics he’s adorable.) That being said he maybe got too used to dumping people interested in him. I won’t say it is the same with his S/O as it was with high school sweethearts but he might just fall back into old patterns due to convenience. Breaking up would still hurt him and still be difficult.

F = Fights (What would fights look like? What are things that upset them?) Honestly: Fights with Lucas would be a pain mainly because he doesn’t see where he’s wrong or what the issue exactly is. He is a very loyal person once fully committed but maybe not the most understanding one.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) His emotional way is very gentle. His physical way in terms of hugs and holding hands is too. Simple mind - Simple showings off affection other things we don’t discuss here it is SWF, please

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Just like Johnny his arms are insanely long and wrapping them tightly around his S/O is just way to nice to not do it constantly.

I = Intimacy (What is their favorite form of intimacy? Do they have problems with it?) He knows why he’s in SM. He got casted off the streets for his looks. He also really radiates the vibes of only being there for the fun and the people only. Lucas is very confident in the way he looks and he is aware of how many thousand people find him insanely attractive. I am pretty sure there are close to no problems when it comes to intimacy but that is something very personal because we know that everyone has at least one issue with themselves which we sometimes could never tell.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) He gets jealous. Not much but he does in general. I am not sure how exactly that would display or how he would show it but overall: Yes he does.

K = Kisses (Are they a good kisser? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) I hope he is. Okay no honestly, hear me out lmao. Lucas ... is either very excellent at kissing or he isn’t. I just look at him and I really hope he is because that would be so grate and elevate him one step closer to being the complete package. He meets the height requirements. He has the hands to hold his S/O. He surely has the lips as well. Which is also where they like to kiss/be kissed the most.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Lucas is the perfect personality type for getting along well with kids. He is goofy enough to play around with them and fun and fool but he is also calm enough to not out-child them and keep an eye on them. He is guiding their playfulness in a way only a few people can.

M = Messages (How often do they text his S/O?) He texts them A LOT when he’s bored. During practice or some random meeting he would get distracted by his phone and text them about how bored he is. Also he would often take pictures or snaps of stupid little things he wants to show them but they’re not around. Speaking of SnapChat: Filters.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Nights out in clubs are hot and fun. Nights out in bars (if they are dates) are hot. Nights out in movie theatre would be so much fun. He would totally get this slushies that turn your tongue in different Colors but would also hold his S/O during scary parts of the movie even though he’s scared himself. Acting all tough

O = Opinion (Would they ask for their S/O’s opinion a lot? How important is it in terms of decisions?) He would ask for their opinion but mainly because he thinks he has to or that they would want to be ask. If it’s about his personal matters. When it comes to mutual decisions it’s different because well of course he asks for his S/O opinion. What they say matters to him and he wants both of them to be comfortable. So when they say that sofa is ugly - it’s ugly.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Getting on his nerves is quite hard I assume. He probably would be the one getting on his S/O’s nerves (most of the time by accident tho.) If it’s something about them that actually bothers him he will be patient and ask them to maybe change that behaviour for a long time before actually admitting how much it is bothering him and eventually raising his voice.

Q = Quizzes (How does a bar trivia night teamed up with them look like?) A complete mess. Lucas once admitted he is not the smartest one and I adore people who are aware of that and own it in their own way. He would still try his best to not let his S/O and maybe other teammates down. BUT he is still an important part of the team: The one who chugs everything for the sake of the cause. IDK I just see him being able to drink a lot. He radiates this frat boy energy help

R = Remember (How much do they remember about their S/O or their relaitonship in general?) Lucas does his best but he is forgetting a lot. He writes it down in his phone. For example there could be a list for his S/O's family member’s birthdays and all their important anniversaries. He may still forget them tho. When it comes to memory Lucas knows it’s not his forté but he is trying hard.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He is maybe one of the most protective boyfriends you will find in whole NCT. He shields his S/O from wind or rain, he corners them in crowded subways. He flags and gets in cabs first. He will shove between his S/O and other guys dancing at clubs casually so they don’t notice. He will tell people to fo k off if they are obviously bothering his S/O. He does it all.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) He might be sloppy with everyday chores but he will rather often take his S/O on spontaneous coffee dates or bring home take out aka steal something from the dorm Kun cooked.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a S/O?) What makes Lucas unique as a S/O is definitely his awareness of his ... stupidity? Now I can see people coming for me for saying this but he once said he is not very smart and he is probably correct about that. His abilities lay more in the practical and emotional/empathic area. So what makes him special is is ability to pull his S/O’s guard down. If they come home from work super stressed he will put their mind at ease by simply talking to them about not so heavy or challenging topic. He will be their save heaven. A place where they don’t need to pretend or to impress. Lucas loves his S/O 190% for their character or quirks and maybe even for their intellect as well but he doesn’t compete with it and is real about himself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) SO. MUHC. He has sloppy days tho but they will mostly never catch him with greasy hair or anything. And also he is in shape and plans to stay that way.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their S/O?) He would. If he is not with them for a long time he can feel how he is losing his inner center or balance. Lucas would be fine on his own but honestly exactly just fine.

X = X-Ray (How transparent are they?) Lucas is an open book. He can’t hide anything and he is so easy to fool on like April 1st or some prank they want to play on him. If he’s feeling down they’ll see it. If he’s happy they’ll know it. if he truly loves them it will be on the local news.

Y = Yuck (Everyone has flaws. What is theirs?) Bruh okay. Well. He leaves his underwear everywhere. Or his socks. and he leaves the toilet seat up.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Being asleep he grabs everything and pulls it in close. There is no escape. And I feel like he will wander towards the mid of the bed so if their S/O is avoiding being hold custody they will have no where to go but the sofa or wake him up.

Gif is not mine

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thestraggletag · 4 years ago

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Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions.

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd.

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation.

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress.

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced.

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief.

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

“A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him.

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness.

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her.

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

#argoslight #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Roll for Initiative #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Rumbelle Gift Swap

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clandestine-j · 4 years ago

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GOSSIP GIRL, EP. 5 REACTION & REVIEW

alright

this episode was pretty good, i'm here for this vibe if they continue with it. lots of shit happened, i have feelings about it so lets go!

(this episode also helped me discover i really am a horrible person lol)

ADULTS:

NICK X KATE: Nope! Full stop, don't want it. Bitch you nasty for being friendly with him while posting about his daughter. Nick x Davis is the true otp.

JORDAN & CO: JAIL. Plain and simple, ya'll enjoying this too much. Jail. Please. I beg. Ya'll are sick. A gun in a school and you're Bruce Wayne? Bitch.

KATE: As stated above and addition, I started to be cool with you. You still have to go jail but after serving time, I might be cool with you afterwards. Then you flip flop again went back to doing the worst. Limiting the comments doesn't help. Raggedy.

RAFA: PRISON. And let me tell you, my boy, Aki, he got Fox News in the back of his pocket so, step the fuck back. That's why Max figured yo ass out. GO TO PRISON. PRISON. And he tried to play him for a fool at the end. Prison isn't enough, vanish.

KIKI: SIS! You gotta get it together for your daughter. She can't be the more but, I feel you. Do better, be better. It's not as easy as just saying it but if you have family you can rely on, start to rely. You're daughter her habits from you.

OUR KIDS:

JULIEN: BIG SISTER ENGERY THIS EPISODE. I'M LOVING IT AND LOVING IT. I think she can stop trying a bit now and but I'm here for the connection, I'm here for it all. Quick thinker, knew the circle wasn't tight. She wasn't really there for Audrey but she has been, I think she just got caught up. Since Zoya moved there, they haven't had the chance to just be sisters, to just love each other without any drama. They have not only the past month to make up for but years and she wants to do right by Zoya. I'm glad she realized at the end that, she needed to be there for Audrey but I'm not upset because I get it. I also LOVE that she finally, stood up to Monet and say and get wit it or get it out. Boom. I've been waiting.

OBIE: I wanna ride hard for you because people keep talking about your hair line. I think you need to learn that relationships will have ups and downs and it won't be perfect all of the time. I feel like Obie is chasing perfection, no fights, no problems, just coasting and it won't happen, it'll never happen. Do better. That being said, I'm glad we got something from Obie. I'm glad we got to see him being the Prince of New York. It's hella shady that you didn't just come out with the truth and you wanted to do a song and dance but Obie is doing more and using that name so yes, give me character stuff.

MONET: BYE. No, but really. Amazing one liners as always. I liked the little fight with Julien, I felt a bit of distress, I'm into it. While I did expect her to cross Julien, I didn't expect her to cross Luna and all her hard work, that was dirty but you moving the story and shit so what can I say? I don't think Monet will go for the crown but I could see her finding someone to prop up. I want more of her parents, maybe she has a very bad relationship with her mom? Also, sis, Julien is right, you can't keep jumping clients when they want to change and do up their image. No sis, no. (And you almost tanked Julien's career soooooooooooo)

AUDREY: SIS U WERE SINKING. Okay, so Audrey isn't a character I feel that connected too. She's bitchy, a little less than Lunet but still. So, I have a hard time caring but objectively, you should break up with Aki. You know him by now and maybe it's comfort or you really want to have something. It's okay, break up with him because he's a friend and not the boyfriend you need. You want someone who will let you vent, not solve. Not see. Go live with Julien. The fight with your mom is understandable (And realize that forcing people on her won't work.) because you shouldn't have to be the back bone of the family. The dad line was a low blow, the airport thing was a low blow but you're a teenage girl and what can I say? Nothing, just don't become the woman you hate even though parents are the models. That being said, if I had seen her interacting with her dad more, the line wouldn't have been as low. But I can't tell that he loves her, we don't even get a phone conversation. Do better writers. And I think at the party, she got a chance to see how her mom felt. I don't know what happened to move but I think it has something to do with her meds. Audrey, be a boss. Break up, tell him that ya'll are better as friends because it won't go has bad as you think it will. Move in with Julien (I just want to see it happen.)

ZOYA: I don't even have much to say. My sis was popping off this episode. I got sass, I got questioning her relationship with Obie. Yes, talk about how you feel about him with the girls and go girl stuff. I really felt her when she said she wanted her own friend, writers please give her, her own friends. PLEASE. I'M BEGGING. Simon, you dirty dog. I'm glad Obie got it out but he could've said something to her. I'm sick. I'm more upset that he wasn't a new friend or a love interest. Just ugh. But I liked Zoya this episode, she could worry about normal teenage stuff for the most part without having to worry about being attacked by Monet and Luna.

LUNA: MY GOOD SIS. Just like I didn't expect Monet to turn on her, I didn't expect her to not stand by Monet. I know she was enjoying the Zoya vibe and thought it was cute, she was becoming a bit more friendly sure but I wow, yas. Go off girl. I want to see more of fashion stylist Luna, a Luna sponsored fashion show where Aki models and drama happens? I'd be here for it, I am here for it.

MAX: I was ready to box. Listen. I was ready to fight this point as much as I felt for him. So, the feeling for him. He honestly, believes that Rafa is good for him. And he was catching feelings? He thought Rafa needed him in his life because he had no family, he also has no family in a sense to him at least. So, he's really caught up in this man. And I feel so bad that he said he's sober when he's with him or something along those lines. That's heartbreaking. I'm glad that talk in the end pulled him out of it, I'm glad he realized that he had a hand to play in his friends not wanting to be around him or deal with him. I'm glad he followed them and was in on the hug. Wonderful. Now my dude, you do not deserve Aki, not as a romantic partner or a friend. My boy was seriously worried, and you blew down on him WHILE using a nickname for his nickname....sick. I was ready to throw hands, like. My spirit was not right. That was so low. I keep seeing people say that because Max wasn't in a relationship, Audrey shouldn't feel some type of way and Aki is just letting his hurt roll off because he's worried but while you didn't have a duty in the relationship, you had a duty as a friend, to both of them. You ghost for a week and say nothing, no talking about the blow up or the outing and you running with this little stanky thing, you try to ease back into the group, no. And you still don't deserve Aki's time. Like. My dude did not hit you up after the kiss, he was not checking for you on that dating app, he was interested in other mens, you sat between the couple. Okay. He had been checking on you from jump. Just no. I'm sick of the shit. Never step to my boy like that again.

AKI: MY boy. Lemme get this out the way. You need to listen, not solve or give perspective. Like, she doesn't need it. I get your friends in danger but express how serious you think this is to her. I get that a long-distance relationship might not bother you and you think things will work out because there are bigger problems but talk to her. Re-assure her. Or break up with her her. As I said before, ya'll will not hate each other if you break up. And learn to just, even, pretend or something but you struggle in this aspect. Do better. That being said, Aki, episode MVP. He said, something is off, take him down. My perfect himbo man, said not my watch. And listen, you can't be as pushy because people don't respond but I'm glad you were on it. You knew. You said, I'mma run up on this man and you did. Yes. That being said, stand up for yourself, this boy does not deserve your energy. I get it. You might have a crush, this is bestie but bestie has not been treating you right for a while. And this was a new love. You're too loving, let some of that going at Rafa energy pop out around the friend group. But you a king and you care so much, just re-focus for now. Find you a cute lil thang and make the boy jelly. I need this resolved before I can accept anything canon, fanfics is where I'll be. But overall, Aki was making moves, you gotta learn something from the right wing media mogul.

GROUP: I finally feel like I talk about them as a whole. I wish they would've shown the others being upset by Max's ghosting because ya'll acting lowkey outta pocket and I didn't see anyone but Audrey and Aki check for this boy. Like, do you really care? But he fit into the group hug at the end. I know Monet saw a rising star in Zoya at the bar place, you make this a powerful DUO. YOU KNOW YOU WERE FEELING HER. Luna and Monet roll their eyes Audrey but ya'll bet not play like the three of ya'll don't enjoy gossip, fashion, talking about people and lowkey making fun of Zoya's newbie-ness together. Honestly, I'm happy we got more group interactions and little moments, I can start to kind of see how they were friends for a while even if all of them aren't close.

Random Thoughts:

how was your son missing for two weeks on and off and there isn't more panic, you different but oh no heartbreak

aki is so loving towards everyone's parents, i love it

i also love that he assumed max was with aki

audrey as the child as it worse but her kiki's acting makes me feel for her more lol

the two girls were a bit of fun, i'd like to see monet take them down or build them up for fun

"i'm chuck bass" + the lil pull was great

i feel like max was already thinking about them becoming more when he mentioned audrey pushing him out but i'll take crumbs so he was probs just thinking about sex or the group as a whole

kate get out of nick's life, nick keep her out

zoya stop talking to that woman

jordan eww no, you can have kate

i'll ship obie and aki to get aki with someone that likes him and loves him, they talk, they have do something, i'll take it, whatever

i want throuple and i want akimax but not like this, i can't take the threesome scene unless max say's sorry and aki ducks him for half the episode if it's not that, i don't want it

maybe it's the start of a dream and it ends

(i do really want the ship but i don't trust the writers or the characters)

SIMON, I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU

who or what was max suppose to be?

why am i getting teachers and not family, i've seen jordan just one too many times

rafa prison

obie had shit to do this episode, use the money, i wanna see it

when will a student or random party gain control of gossip girl, give me that

rafa prison

i also think i’m a horrible person because i care more about stopping rafa than audrey’s home life so i was rooting for aki

overall, solid episode, maybe the footing has been found? i'm here for it and ep 6 looks like it's about to pop off

#c;gg #gossip girl reboot #gossip girl hbo #akeno menzies #max wolfe #zoya lott #monet de haan #audrey hope #luna la #obie bergmann iv #julien calloway

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cancelingthenoise · 4 years ago

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Unworthy

Soooo, after a 13 year hiatus, I’m trying to get back into writing and where better to start than fan fiction and with my fave OTP. But buckle up, it’s a heavy one. Hopefully I’ve tagged all the appropriate trigger warnings; apologies if I’ve missed any - please let me know if I have!!

Summary: Addict. Junkie. Worthless. He has been gone for three years and is ready to come home, but his biggest enemy is still the one inside.

Rated: Mature (Addiction, Recovery, Implied Drug Use, Drug References, Mild Sexual Content)

Cross-posted to FFN and AO3

He inserts the coins and dials a number he knows by heart. The only one that is permanently branded into the recesses of his mind. As it rings, he hopes – let it be the right number, let it still be her number, let her pick up …

Hello?

“Kagome.”

Inu … Inuyasha?

“I … want to come home.”

Where are you?

He tells her the city, the intersection, the name on the warehouse nearby. Everything that can pinpoint exactly where he is so she can find him.

I’m on my way. Stay put.

There’s a tone in her voice he can’t identify and it sends pangs straight to his heart, but she’s coming. She’s coming.

And so, he waits.

Two hours later a familiar red sedan pulls up in front of him and its driver approaches. She’s older now, tired, he notices as he stands to greet her. He watches as she looks him over. He’s dirty, he knows, and even his demon-blood cannot mask how battered and bruised he is. He’s shocked but admittedly pleased when she wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes him in an embrace. Her scent is altogether lovely and calming, like coming home.

It takes every fiber of his being not to whine when she pulls away and looks him square in the eyes. Her grey eyes are intense and full of contrasting emotions. All for him. “Let’s go.” She finally speaks, her tone decisive and unyielding.

He has nothing but the clothes on his back, but instead of a pitying glance, she nods. It’s almost cathartic that she’s here and he has no physical baggage to take. She tosses her purse from the passenger seat into the back so he can settle in.

He notices the ring when she places her hands on the steering wheel. Ten-and-two, ever predictable.

“You’re engaged.” He cannot hide the shock, the disdain that he feels.

“Yes.”

Her response is sharp and leaves no invitation for a response, but he can’t help it as the jealousy bubbles up through his core.

“Had enough waiting on the addict to clean up his act?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he feels instant regret. He’s always been a hothead who runs his mouth before thinking, but he can tell these words sting deep. They pain him too.

She flinches and releases a haggard breath.

“That’s not fair. You left. You stopped calling. You stopped picking up. You couldn’t even text. And then your number went out. Now you’ve called me from a payphone. It’s been three years.” Her eyes remain firmly on the road, hands clenching the wheel, but he can see her body tremble and hear the strain in her voice. She’s angry. Furious.

He slumps, “I’m sorry.” His whisper is meek as he understands a mere apology is not nearly enough to make amends for the past. It doesn’t explain why he had to disappear, why he went away for so long. It can’t make her understand his reasons.

She nods almost imperceptibly and seems to consider a game plan. “I’ll take you to Sesshomaru’s.”

“No.” He’s vehement. There’s no chance in hell he will turn to his half-brother. Especially now.

“Sango and Miroku’s then.”

“And?” He balks at the conjunction.

“They’re married now. Have been for a year. You would’ve been his Best Man, but …”

She trails off, but he understands. They couldn’t find him, reach him. The hole he left in their lives appears to be much greater than he imagined.

They drive in silence for nearly an hour. He wants to speak, wants to tell her everything, but he can’t find the words; and based on the furtive glances she keeps sending him, she can’t either.

“I was so scared you were dead.” She finally whimpers.

“Some days I wished I was.” He admits forlornly.

She looks at him for a few moments before staring back at the road, brows furrowed, mouth turned down.

“I’m glad you’re not.”

Those are the last words spoken before silence consumes them again.

After they hit the city limits, she drives to a house in the suburbs. It looks like a dream with its double-attached garage and neatly manicured lawn. A chokecherry tree sits among a bed of flowers in the middle of the green; simple yet attractive and he knows whose home he stands in front of. She leads him from the driveway to the royal blue front door and it opens almost immediately, revealing two faces he has longed to see almost as much as Kagome’s. Their expressions are a combination of disbelief and relief. Miroku does not hesitate to embrace him with a sigh as Sango looks on with tears in her eyes. He reaches a tentative hand out to her which she grasps tightly with a closed smile.

They usher him into the house and guide him to their kitchen. Miroku settles him into a spot at the breakfast bar as Sango pours him a glass of water. They do not speak, though the questions in their eyes are obvious. Miroku nods at him as he and Sango walk back to the door, to Kagome. She hasn’t come in. Her face has been drawn since they stopped speaking during the drive.

He waits inside the kitchen as they speak outside. He could train his ears to listen to their conversation, and briefly considers it, but he chooses not to. His absence has prohibited him from those intimacies. They are different people now, just as he is. They are probably discussing how to get him on his feet again as quickly as possible so they can get back to their lives. Why would they want him to stay? Why would they want him around for longer than necessary?

Miroku and Sango return to him. He hears the telltale roar of an engine and knows Kagome has gone. He feels sadness, but knows why she’s left without a word. After all, who can jump right into caring for your former partner who has all but risen from the grave?

Sango looks him over, assessing him thoroughly. He avoids her eyes, unsure of what emotions she’s wearing and afraid to meet them. Shame fills his bones. Maybe he should have stayed away. Maybe he should have stayed dead in their minds. He is a spot on their pristine lives.

Miroku refills his glass of water and replaces it on the counter before sitting on the stool beside him.

“You’re alive,” he finally breathes.

Inuyasha meets Miroku’s gaze and is warmed to see compassion and joy in his deep blue eyes. The shame that was eating him just moments ago fades ever so slightly.

“You’re home.” Miroku states, “It’s a miracle. Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

The dam is officially broken and all the questions that he knew were coming are finally bare, and despite everything, he feels entirely unprepared to answer. So he starts slow, begins with the day they last saw him. He tells them of his travels, the hitchhiking, the homelessness, but skimps out on the details of things he has done, the sins he has committed. Those are secrets he will take to the grave. He is unwilling to mar the consciences of those he loves.

“Have you…” Sango shakes her head, unable to finish her question, but he fully comprehends what she means to ask.

“No. I’ve been clean since the day I left.”

“Then why?”

“Loose ends.” He murmurs. “I had to settle my debts. They … they would’ve come for her if I didn’t comply.”

“For so long?”

Three years is nothing, he wants to tell them. He’s lucky he only had to serve that long. Naraku is a malevolent bastard and exploits the last breath out of most. Frankly, his death would have been an easier price to pay.

“I had to earn my freedom.” He admits this ashamedly and hopes they don’t press for more.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It wasn’t so simple.”

“So you disappeared.” Sango states brusquely, her tone is harsh and unforgiving. “You broke her heart, you know. You broke all of our hearts when you left.”

That admission freezes him from the inside. He knew his absence would be difficult for them all, but hearing it spoken aloud affects him more than he thought it would. He imagines Kagome sobbing into her pillow. It’s a scene that is all too familiar, he’s caused her many tears – too many.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He repeats his submissive apology from earlier and slumps, his forehead almost touching the counter.

“You’re here now,” Miroku responds comfortingly and places a hand on his shoulder, “You’re here. You’re alive. You’re safe. That’s what matters. We can help you now, if you want it.”

He lifts his head and looks directly at Sango whose cinnamon eyes convey grief and yet hold a glimmer of hope. He turns to Miroku who is awaiting his response.

“Yes.” He declares, confidence daring to materialize, “Please.”

Later that evening he is settling into the spare bedroom they’ve given him. Before him is a suitcase of his belongings that Kagome has dropped off on the front step. He takes a breath and opens it. He is quickly overcome with her sweet scent which is deeply embedded in each item. The clothes are slightly too big for him now. Three years of constantly moving, being on the run, and meager meals have diminished his former stature.

Amongst his clothes is a red leather-bound book. A journal. It smells more intimately of Kagome than everything else. She has wept openly on these pages, he can tell. He opens it and thumbs quickly through the pages. Each entry is a letter addressed to him. As he flips through the journal certain phrases jump out at him amidst the lines of her loopy hand.

I want to hate you.

Where are you?

I wish I had never met you.

Are you alive?

I wish I could hold you.

Please come home.

I love you.

He shudders as he realizes that these pages hold missives from the last three years. These are Kagome’s thoughts, her feelings. This is an intimacy he thought was nearly impossible now. She has to have put this with his things on purpose. She’s thorough like that. Every action is purposeful, thoughtful. He finds the last entry in the journal, it’s dated today.

Inuyasha,

This is a collection of letters that I began writing when I realized you weren’t coming home anytime soon. Eventually I thought you weren’t coming home at all. I used these to talk to you as if you were still by my side. I don’t know what you’ve been through and maybe giving you this journal is selfish of me, but I needed you to see.

I hope they help you understand why I can’t be the one to help you right now. I need time. It’s ironic saying that after you’ve been gone for three years. It feels like there’s been nothing but time between us. I thought you were dead when I received your call today. I thought I was hearing a ghost. I’m so grateful you’re alive, but things are different now. We are not the same people we were before.

I need to figure this out.

Please understand.

Kagome

It isn’t until tears splatter on the page that he realizes he is crying. Of course she needs time. He knew this was a possibility when he made the phone call this afternoon. He’d hoped against hope that she would come for him and take him back fully. But that was wishful thinking. He knew there was a chance she would turn him away. She could have hung up as soon as she heard his voice. But she came for him, made arrangements for him. But she is engaged to another man. She needs to figure out if there is still room in her life for him.

For her, he’d wait a lifetime. Even to just be her friend.

It is another three months before he sees Kagome again. He’s read that journal more times than he cares to admit. All her sleepless nights are immortalized in those grid-lined pages, that he’s now dog-eared and bookmarked. Her worries, fears, even her dreams laid bare. He knows how often she cried when he was in the depths of his addictions, but it has taken this journal to make him truly appreciate how deeply he hurt her, even after he was gone. And to his astonishment, it wasn’t the behaviour that hurt her the most, it was his poor viewpoint of himself.

I wish you could see you how I do.

I should have told you more what you meant to me.

I regret every moment I didn’t say “I love you.”

He knows Sango sees her regularly, he can always scent her when Sango arrives home. It’s not as if they’re keeping their meetings a secret, but he’s respecting her space even though it kills him. It bothers him when he can smell the sadness of her tears and the tinge of fatigue. He wonders what causes her tears these days, why she’s so often tired, why sometimes there’s a trace of illness in her scent that lingers on Sango. From Miroku he learns that she’s busy with her residency at the hospital. Ever the studious achiever. Ever wanting to help others. To heal.

This is the reason he knows she’d never give up on him. It’s why she was the one he called. She’s a walking bleeding heart, always has been. She sees the best in people, even when their best is a mere speck amidst obscurity. When he was at his worst, she stood by him. When everyone else had lost hope and he’d been slipping deeper into his addictions, his darkness, she stayed. She brought him back from the brink of death’s door one too many times. Back then, she truly loved him. And he’s holding onto hope with every fiber of his being that she still does.

He hopes she’s proud of him and the progress he’s making. Since he’s been back, he’s found work thanks to Miroku’s contacts in construction. He’s proven himself to be a hard worker and has met a journeyman to mentor him as an apprentice in iron work. It’s also helped boost his confidence with reintegrating into society. At work, no one cares what his past is, what skeletons he hides in the closet, as long as he gets the job done. At work, they’re all sinners just trying to get by.

He stays away from the parties and the after-work bar stops. He recognizes the patterns in some of his colleagues all too well. One drink leads to two leads to three leads to smack or blow or both which leads to miserable mornings because you’ve spent all night chasing that first-time spark. No matter how hard you try, you can never attain that feeling again and still you chase. It’s the vicious cycle. He’s done with that life. It’s taken too much away from him, cost him too much.

Miroku and Sango have let him know that Kagome will be coming for dinner, so he’s had ample time to prepare. But when she arrives in the doorway and her scent hits him like a freight train, he panics. Has she had enough time? Has she made a decision? Will she want him to stay away? He runs to his room and leans back against the closed door. He’s stared down the barrels of guns with less fear than what he’s experiencing in this moment.

He smells her before he hears her footsteps arriving at his door. Trepidation grips him as he hears her voice call to him for the first time in three months. This is so much harder than that very first phone call that has brought him home.

“Inuyasha?”

She’s there, he can tell her face is pressed to the wood. Her voice is soft, hesitant. Perhaps she is just as nervous as him.

“Can I come in?”

He quakes as he reaches for the handle and turns it painfully slow. He inches the panel open. Finally, finally, he opens it all the way and turns to face her.

Her face is a portrait of concern and tenderness. Her grey eyes are intense as they’ve always been and are already filling with tears. Her arms are wrapped around herself as if she’s blocking a gale.

He steps aside to let her in and shuts the door behind her.

She stares at the floor and he focuses on a spot on the wall above her head for a few moments. He is completely stunned when she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and clutching as hard as she can. As he wraps his arms around her shoulders, she sobs fiercely and he feels tears prick the back of his own eyes.

He cups the back of her head, gently stroking her hair, and whispers repeatedly, “I’m sorry.”

It feels as if hours have passed when Kagome’s tears finally subside. His body protests when she begins to pull away, but she clasps his hand and pulls him to sit on his bed. She pulls a tissue out of her jeans pocket and wipes her face.

“Sango tells me you’ve been working,” her voice is pinched from crying, but he admires her attempts at normal conversation.

“Yeah, it’s going well.”

“Good,”

She smiles then and he thinks it’s the best thing he’s seen in years. Her eyes are red and swollen, and her cheeks are ruddy, but her smile can still light up a room and he’s glad that it’s his.

“I … really am glad that you’re home.”

“Me too,”

“I’ve missed you a lot,

“Me too,” He feels like a goddamn broken record, but he may combust if he attempts more words.

“And … I’d like it if we could start hanging out again.”

He gapes at her, slack-jawed and eyes wide. While he has been hoping for this, it is still a surprise to hear it straight from her lips. His mind races with all the things he wants to say and his heart is lodged in his throat.

“That is … if you’d want to,”

He realizes that he’s taken too long to respond and she’s beginning to backtrack. In a lot of ways, they are still the same people they were; confident in so many circumstances and yet, with each other, eternally hesitant and nervous.

“Of course I want to,”

The words rush out of his mouth in an effort to reassure her.

“I would love to spend time with you. I just wasn’t sure … if you’d …” he’s stumbling and feels like a fool, but he needs her to know. He needs her to understand just how much he wants to be back in her life.

She smiles again and his world warms once more.

“I guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”

It takes him a moment to remember that their friends are downstairs with dinner and they stand together. He realizes as they descend the stairs that she has not let go of his hand at all. Her diamond ring is notably absent from her finger, but he leaves that question for another time.

Dinner is a simple affair and it’s the lightest he’s felt in years.

- - - - -

If there’s anything his life has taught him, it’s that happiness is temporary. Six months of being home, six months of stability, and three months of having Kagome back in his life on a regular basis have made him happy. It’s a feeling he didn’t think was possible, didn’t think he was worthy of. After all, when life has ceaselessly handed him cruel lessons, why would happiness even be an option? So when it all comes crashing down as he’s out running errands with Miroku, it doesn’t surprise him, but it still hurts like a motherfucker.

“It’s you.”

The words are scathing and resentful. He dreadfully lifts his gaze to meet the eyes of the person who seems to offended by his mere existence. She’s a petite woman with short black hair, but the animosity in her eyes belies her diminutive stature.

“How dare you?” Her tone is soft but punitive. “How dare you insert your filthy little hands back into Kagome’s life. She was finally moving on. She was happy. She was going to marry Akitoki, he would have taken care of her. He was good for her. But you couldn’t stay away. She broke off her engagement because of you. You’re taking advantage of her heart. She’s let go of her chance at happiness, and for what? To take care of you? A worthless little nobody who can’t wait for his next fix?”

The woman is viciously relentless. Her diatribe is unforgiving, slicing him to the very bone.

He is completely frozen. He wants to yell back at her, tell her that he’s quite aware of how he is undeserving of Kagome’s compassion and forgiveness. He knows that he’s been the cause of her pain and tears. He knows he’s gotten more second chances than he deserves. He knows her life was easier without him. He knows Kagome is better than him. He knows. Oh, he knows.

He vaguely registers that Miroku has taken a step between them and is reprimanding the woman. Eri, he remembers. She’d been a friend of Kagome’s through school and had been more than vocal of her disapproval of him even then.

Eri quickly turns her malice toward Miroku.

“You’re no friend of Kagome, letting this fuck-up back into her life.”

“That’s enough. I won’t allow you to continue vilifying Inuyasha. And Kagome is fully capable of deciding for herself who she associates with.”

Miroku’s tone is level, but Inuyasha can tell he is running out of patience. Miroku grips his elbow and guides him away from the venomous witch, but not before she can get a final word in.

“You should have stayed dead.”

He flinches then, her phrase echoing endlessly through his mind, settling into his gut and clawing at him from the inside.

Somehow Miroku gets them home, everything is a blur with that bitch’s voice reverberating in his skull. He hears Miroku’s voice, but he cannot focus on the words. All he understands is hatred and disgust. Everything he has worked for is worthless. Is this the way it’s always going to be?

She finds him on the back porch, sitting on the stairs, staring blankly toward the sunset. She sits beside him on the step and sighs. Her voice is weary.

“Miroku told me everything. I’m sorry that happened.”

“She wasn’t wrong.”

“What?” Her shock is more than evident. She clutches his forearm with both hands and he can sense her tears beginning to form, “How can you say that?”

He doesn’t dare look at her, he knows it’ll ruin his resolve. As low as he feels, he feels a ripple of anger brewing in his gut. Eri’s words have been festering in his brain, allowing an old and familiar voice to break through. He’s a half-breed, accepted but unlovable. He’s stupid and useless, completely unworthy of happiness. He’s committed too many wrongs to ever deserve redemption. It’s been a long time, but the feeling inside is one he’ll never forget. He’s craving a high to numb this pain, this goddamn fucking anger.

“If you want that perfect life, you should take it. I don’t want your fucking pity party. I know you look down on me. Poor Inuyasha and his asshole attitude. The only time he’s bearable is when he’s high as a damn kite and that’s only because he doesn’t know up from fucking down. Of course, the downside is that he might stop breathing.” He scoffs harshly, “Or, is that the upside?”

He knows his voice is bitter and that he’s gotten louder. It’s echoing the one Eri used earlier. He’s shaking from the anger, or is it something else? This scene feels all too familiar, almost like déjà vu; but somehow, it’s different now.

“Inuyasha. Stop.”

She’s pleading with him, her grip on his arm has gotten tighter. He knows she’s weeping openly; he can scent her tears and hear the stutter in her breath. It’s all too familiar. After all, this is what he’s good at: making her cry.

“Doesn’t fucking matter I’ve been clean three years. That’s all anyone will see, a fucking deadbeat addict. You’d be better off with that doctor. He can take care of you, pamper you. He’ll be enough. He’ll deserve you. That’s not me. That’ll never be me. All I’ll ever be is a fuck-up.”

“Don’t.”

She whimpers and lets her grip loosen. He’s sure she’s going to walk away, get back in her car and leave. He keeps his stare steady on the sun that has almost completely slipped beyond the horizon. There’s a war waging inside of him – his angels and demons come out to play. Not for the first time, he bitterly wonders if this continued sobriety is worth it. She’s going to leave, just as she should.

When her hand comes up and gently cups his cheek, he is completely undone. She tenderly moves his face, but he keeps his gaze downcast. Her hand is soft and warm to the touch as her thumb swipes away his tears. Of course she’s staying. Her bleeding heart won’t let her leave. He cries for her, her lost opportunities, her damn sympathetic selflessness. But she surprises him again in what she utters; and in her words, he finds hope.

“You have always been enough for me. I have always seen you. The you who loves me and would do anything to protect me. The you who acts tough because you’re scared of rejection. The you who wishes you could change the past. The you who is more determined and smarter than you realize. The you who has worked hard to conquer those shitty demons inside. That’s who I see.”

She sighs and he feels her whole body tremble.

“Every time you used, I was terrified. I was so scared that you wouldn’t wake up one day, that you’d stop breathing, that your heart would fail. That I would lose you. It made me angry, it’s why I pushed you so hard. I wanted you to get sober for me.”

He meets her eyes then, their pretty grey glimmers in what’s left of the sunlight through the sheen of her tears. In them he finds no pity, only benevolence. Everything she has said, he has heard her say before. He’s read it before. But this is why it isn’t a complete déjà vu, it’s different. It’s different because they are different. They have grown and she confirms it with her next statement.

“It was selfish. I wanted you to get sober, but you needed to do it for yourself.”

He reaches up to grasp her wrist, lightly squeezing in lieu of all the words he wants to say.

She lets the corners of her mouth turn upwards ever so slightly.

“And you did. You succeeded. I don’t know what you’ve been through these last few years, and maybe I’ll never know, but what I do know is that you came home. You did what you had to and came back to me, and I am prouder of you than you can ever imagine.”

She presses her lips to his forehead and gathers him in her arms. He allows himself to take comfort in her embrace because comfort is not happiness and is not so easily taken away.

He goes back to her apartment with her that night. Their apartment. It looks the same as the day he left. He is simultaneously comforted and haunted by the familiarity. This place that they made home together. Where they laughed and fought. Where he wasted his nights and she cared for him. This is where he had joy and lost it. This is where he left her.

She putters around the kitchen, putting the kettle on for tea. As she pulls two mugs from the cabinet, he realizes that they’re the matching set they painted for each other on a date some lifetime ago. She sees the recognition in his stare and begins to speak.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed I kept everything the same.” She smiles timidly and her eyes are filled with earnest, “Everyone thought it was unhealthy, but it kept me sane. They tried to convince me to move out of here, and I was adamant that I wouldn’t – couldn’t. Because if you came home and found I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself.”

She busies herself again, pulling out a tin of teabags and a sleeve of arrowroot cookies.

“And then as time went on and I started fearing the worst, I needed to hang onto my memories of you, of us. So, everything stayed the same. Even though I was moving forward with school and … eventually, Akitoki,” She glances downward, sheepish. “Home was my constant. It was me. It was you. It was us. It is us.”

He steps toward her. He has so many questions and a spark of hope is igniting in his veins.

“Why?”

The word hangs between them and he tries in vain to push that hope down, down, down. It is such a simple word, and yet holds so much impact.

She lifts her eyes to meet his, grey colliding with amber, understanding pouring through.

“We met when I started my residency. He was a third-year. At first, I didn’t pay him any mind, but he kept persisting. Eventually I figured meeting for coffee wouldn’t hurt.” She pauses, reaching for his hand. “You have to understand that you’d been gone for almost two years. I was lonely. And … and he was safe.”

She scoffs, grips his hand tighter, and leans fully on the counter.

“He was a proper gentleman. Waited a month before he kissed me the first time, even asked permission before he did. It was another month after that before we officially became boyfriend and girlfriend. It was a bit of a surprise when he proposed on our anniversary. Obviously, I said yes – you saw the ring. Except, it felt wrong. It was all wrong. We hadn’t even talked about the future or even moving in together, hadn’t done more than kiss. But I guess that’s part of propriety. And yet, I said yes because it was safe, that stupid word.”

His mind is racing. Safe is not a word he has ever been associated with. What does it even mean? He searches her face for a clue, and anxiously waits for her to continue. This is a conversation they have not deigned to have yet in the three months since they’ve been friends again. The kettle is boiling rapidly now, but he knows that it’ll automatically shut off.

“Then five months later, you called me and this feeling I hadn’t felt in so long came rushing back. You were alive. It was like the clouds were finally parting after a heavy rain. I didn’t know what to expect when I came to pick you up, and this tiny part of me told me not to go, but it was right. I felt right again, but I was scared. So I stayed away. Then I heard from Sango and Miroku that you were working and doing well and I was missing out on that. I broke off the engagement. As much as he was sweet and safe … he wasn’t you.”

Tears are welling in her eyes and he feels his are getting misty as well. He steps and pulls all in one motion, wrapping his arms around her tightly. His heart is pounding out of his chest and that spark of hope is now a flame.

She draws in a haggard breath and mumbles against his chest.

He tilts his head down to look at her, silently pleading for her to repeat what she’s just said. His ears picked up her message, but he needs to know for sure.

She tips her chin upwards and shyly brushes her lips against his and repeats herself a little more loudly, “I love you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Her eyes darken and she presses a kiss to his jaw.

“Because you’re you. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been away.”

He whimpers, “Kagome,”

She kisses him fully then, grasping his face to ensure he can’t pull away, not that he wants to. His heart is exploding. She has always been able to read him, know what he’s thinking. And she has always known what he needs most. This kiss is full of promises, assurances. This is real.

“You are important. You are loved. You are worthy of it all.”

She guides him to her bedroom. Their bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed in disbelief that he is back in this room. He can hardly believe that this woman is standing before him with love in her eyes. This amazing, beautiful, strong, resilient woman who is holding the door to happiness wide open. He only has to cross the threshold. He falters. Happiness is dangerous. Happiness is temporary. But she is here and he trusts her implicitly. With her, happiness is feasible.

With one look into her deep stormy eyes, he makes a choice.

“Kagome.”

Her name. The only word he seems capable of uttering. In her name he promises to try. Promises to treat her well, make up for the pain he has caused her. Promises to try and see himself through her eyes. Promises to be kinder to himself. Promises to help build their life together back up. He knows with her, they will succeed.

She caresses his face and drops her lips to meet his once again, resting her knees on either side of him. He clutches her waist and revels in the familiarity of her body pressed against his. Their motions are slow, meticulous, not dictated by hormones and lust. And they fall into a routine, a dance that hasn’t been done in years and yet they fall back into with practiced ease.

With every kiss she presses hotly into his skin, she whispers continuous affirmation.

You are enough.

You are worthy.

You are mine.

I love you.

He finds words still impossible to formulate and voice, so he allows his actions to speak for him. Each caress, each kiss, each touch is full of reverence and adoration. When he finally sinks into her and they become one, he truly feels like he is home. And all of his feelings of unworthiness and self-loathing begin to ebb, for it is the love of this woman and her unwavering belief in him that he can begin to heal.

As they settle into each other, heavy with the lure of sleep, he whispers in her ear, “I love you.”

She nestles into him closer and kisses his wrist.

For the first time, in a very long time, he feels worthy.

FINAL NOTES:

I wanted to mention some things as a bit of a debrief to this story, if you will. This is a story that is very personal for me and is quite heavy. Hopefully the ending was enough of a pleasant one to offset the weight a bit.

The way I designed this story, Inuyasha and Kagome are separated during the toughest part of his recovery. The decision to stay with or leave a partner with addiction is a difficult one and can be different for everyone, especially because addiction is so highly stigmatized. A lot of the time the person struggling already carries guilt. Addiction so very often stems from trauma, depression, and/or other forms of mental illness and these need to be addressed first.

Regardless of whether you stay or go, it is important to set boundaries for yourself. Addiction is often labeled as a third-party to relationships because it attempts to wear down the people involved and whittle them down to their weakest and worst. If you are supporting someone through addiction and an active part of their recovery, it is vital to remember self-care and recognize when you need to say no and that it is okay to do so. It is NOT your responsibility to "cure" them.

If you are somebody who cares for someone struggling with addiction, I am happy to share resources that I have found helpful if you would like to reach out.

On another note, I do have ideas about where and what Inuyasha was up to during his three-year absence. It would probably contain heavier content than this piece, but also be a bit more fantastical. If the inspiration hits or if there’s interest, I’ll probably try and write it. Anyway, comments and likes are love. Thank you so much for reading my return to fan fiction!

#inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fic #omg i'm writing again #inukag #tw: drugs #tw: addiction #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with a hopeful ending #tw: low self esteem #tw: depressive thoughts #rated m

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sh3llysh00 · 3 years ago

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Do you have any chimerica headcanons you want to share?

YESYESYES I DO ARE YOU KIDDING?? IT'S MY OTP :D:D

(click the link, this ended up being really long, I apologize :')

Songs that fit Chimerica: "Absolute Territory - Ken Ashcorp", "Kiss Me, Son of God - They Might Be Giants", "High School Sweethearts - Melanie Martinez", "I Am Not A Robot - MARINA"

[Angst/Comfort Headcanons] (this ends up being really long, feel free to scroll down for the fluffy and dumb headcanons)

- For Context, America (she/they), has horrible PTSD from the Civil War. America has sort of always been divided throughout history, from loyalists vs patriots, union vs confed, black vs white, left vs right, democrats vs republicans, etc. But the Civil War is the only time the Country actually split in half, and it still leaves her with horrible scars, physically and mentally.

- China (he/him) doesn't know a whole lot about the Civil War. Ame avoids talking about the war or c*nfederate, and he doesn't push it. He only knows a handful of things from talking to other Countries about it (Canada, Mexico, Britain, etc.), but he does know how to comfort her.

- After all, they have been together for 20+ years :)

- Obviously, 2020 was a horrible year for everyone, but for Ame, panic attacks were nearly daily. The attacks have been picking up a lot recently as well, because of recent news articles talking about a "second Civil War" (which are irl articles btw).

- Whenever China is in the same area and knows this is happening, he'll immediately act fast. He'll hold them in his arms and take them to a quiet room, and sit her down gently, holding her in his arms. China will start singing a soft lullaby, in Mandarin, to her.

- Ame does know a decent amount of Mandarin. Not fully fluent, but it doesn't matter. She just likes listening to him sing...

- Once they are calm enough to stand up, China will take them to the bathroom and start a warm bath (with bubbles and bath bombs of course :]), and wash her gently, continuing to sing. It helps her muscles relax and puts their mind at ease. Sometimes Ame falls asleep, sometimes China will make her comfort food. It happens rarely, but from time to time, Ame will open up and talk about it. And her boyfriend will always listen intensively.

- China doesn't normally have anxiety or panic attacks, but he does experience chronic fatigue and breakdowns. Usually, when he gets really stressed, overwhelmed, supremely exhausted, etc., he'll react very differently.

- He'll become emotionless, apathetic, and constantly too exhausted to even hold up a conversation.

- Ame isn't the best at comforting others. She can offer support but often struggles to actually give advice, comfort, etc.

- That's not to say they don't try their best, though. Ame will try to hold him and rub circles and patterns into his back. Sometimes draw letters and pictures with her finger and have China guess what it is, just to give something simple for him to focus on. She knows he likes just listening to her breathing, so they'll do just that. No music, no sounds, just them. If he's not feeling better then, she'll run her fingers through his hair and get tangled in it. Ame will do her best to talk to him and hold him. Usually, he'll continue to be quiet.

- If he doesn't talk, Ame will put on a movie or a show and make food for both of them. They normally end up falling asleep on the couch snuggling together. Ame barely sleeps on these nights. China will be better in the morning, giving Ame pecks all over her face. A quiet room and good sleep are just what he needed. He'll need a few days to fully recover before they go on a private date away from people.

- They're both stubborn mules and refuse to talk about their insecurities, sometimes leading to bitter fights, but they eventually end up talking to each other. They need each other, and they do love each other dearly. Prideful bastards.

[OKAY THAT WAS LONG, NOW TIME FOR THE FLUFFY AND QUIRKY HEADCANONS]

- Cute milkshake and picnic dates :)

- They're both swimming in cash, but surprisingly, they don't like going out to huge fancy restaurants. Once in a while, sure, but that's mainly for anniversaries or big holidays.

- China will tell Ame very elaborate pick-up lines in Mandarin and enjoys seeing the confused and frustrated look on her face when they can't understand him.

- They've been dating for 20+ years, and China is ALWAYS the dork to still get flustered when they're holding hands.

- They're both head over heels for one another, but ironically, are not hopeless romantics.

- They'll both lovingly insult and make fun of each other. It's their love language and you can't change my mind <3

- They made an agreement a long time ago to not let their government's corruption and their own Countries' issues get in the way. They never use it against each other.

- Nicknames based on their national symbols :]

If you have any more hc's you have for them, I'd LOVE to hear about them!! :DD

#countryhumans #countryhumans headcanons #chimerica #shelly's headcanons

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reacty · 3 years ago

Text

Yvette and how to write a Byronic heroine(Part 1)

"Inwardly, Bruce Wayne is still an adolescent watching his parents being murdered. That will never leave him. And people really relate to that."

Kevin Conroy

"In truth it was I, who was betrayed!"

Illidian Stormrage, World of Warcraft

"But few people really want to see themselves as being bad or evil, whatever label they wear. I've done things I regret, I've done things I'm proud of, and I've walked the roads in between. The sliding scale is a fantasy. There's no simple answers."

Skitter, Worm

Various Byronic Hero/ine quotes.

The first time I see Yvette was on Wrath season 1 I see a manipulative,spiteful and bitter woman who was unable to let go of her past but while playing on Fire Emblem Three houses I read those comment on Edelgard(by the way if you love in slightest way Yvette YOU WILL LOVE EDELGARD!):Edelgard is dislike not because of her actions,not because of what she does or doesn't but because she is a very complex that can easily misunderstoond so 3/4 people are willfully ignorant or just not interested in looking closer. They accept what Rhea tells them as facts instead to take a lens and analyze Edelgard(By the way Edelgard x Fbyleth are my OTP!) since the biggest barrier most fans not wanting to feel like they have “chosen wrong” and to feel they are righteous and unbiased. So I've decide to give Yvette a try after I've finished Wrath s1(since it bored me,don't worry after Yvette I'll do Wrath reaction) and I like her since to quote her she is a very complex character:

Here the "General Byronic hero/ine" traits list,

I wasted enough words let's start:

The " first time" I see really her was on the show as the summary of her first season states:

and its true with few words and gesture she lures MC(and ME) on rabbit down the hole* and start to see multi- that is Yvette Holte and I will use her Love story with MC start+ some of her actions on the following to avoid spoiler for those didnt go further season 1=

At first a she see a cute innocent woman whom she can't help herself but teasing mc and suggest to not esitate and be embarrassed by her desire to reach for what(Hotness,flirtation🤤😏) but when mc chase her to say hello and ask her name but she mistake Yvette and Vinca situation being captured by mafias(we're on Las Vegas after all) go to her rescue and inadvertently caught her in the act to punish a demon for his failure(capture Vuzgamad ? Innocent and good civilian caught in the crossfire ? I dunno😅) leaving Yvette stunned and out of control for the first time ever(vulnerability) so she forced to put an Indy ploy* to give mc a way out by saying she's illusion and mc caught them in the middle and she gifted with a ticket both as apologize for the scare and thanks for her goodness and bravery for her will to rescue a stranger from thugs if necessary(and the secret hope to meet MC again[showing both her soft and good side not wanting mc being caught in a mess simply she saw women in need of rescue] and vulnerabity wanting to meet her as woman not as sin assassin),

so we see at the deadly sin show and Vinca and Lazareth caught a true jerk that deserve punishment (he steal funds for poor and buy cars you jerk!),she show me both her cynism and ruthless in try to punish by ask the public how to punish him and hyped them up their greedness for punishment but when mc show up and rescue the jerk by taking his place Yvette is both surprise and elated to see her again(ruthless,cruel and punisher of evil; sweetness,vulnerabity and softness for good people and Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things and anyone in need this is why even at her worst she keep up with her duty*) she and mc and enjoy for the first time the show(sparkling the light that Yvette believe to have to have lost in the darkness that is her life and starting to fall in love with MC)

Then at date she talk with a demon who work for her but since mc has no clue about demon,assassin and crazy stuff she mistaken Yvette for a Mafia woman and the demon for a henchwoman and after mc surprised her with bravery,intelligence and being cute(showing Yvette ruthless,darkness to the demon and the protective,sweet,soft and good side to MC by keeping her safe and good).

After the dinner in which Yvette introduces mc to her crazy world by gifting her "The Sight" and we her philosophy and how she keeps the world safe from being enslaved by demons again:

Keep it away from the innocent,cripples, bastards, and broken things by keep the bad and the evil on thigh leash! Like the ouroboros.

Since there is no future for demons or they work for protect humans with her or they die and a less demon who can harm or worst kill a human really poetic and byronic(By the way she meant Vuzgamad with the demon currently work for)

and show her protective side by scolding Vinca given she was mean to MC since Day 1* and remind her and us reader that MC is woman whom she and will can do everything

and more important she can think for herself(showing how well she read people) and apologize for the rough evening and the fact that while Yvette is used to this Mad Wonderland but MC not so Vinca reveal to mc that Yvette she likes her(so Vinca being a shipper and show us that her feelings for mc are slowly became genuine:like,the need to see her) and to give Yvette a try!

So when Vuzgamad appear to threaten to kill her because since Yvette meet mc,she slowly and surely reawakened her dying light,love and hope so Yvette goes ballistic on her and while protect mc with all her heart and we know another side of her bitterness,mystery,self-loathing and self-hatred and doesn't believe that she deserve MC(Her light,her love her everything....ad I'm going fast forward again😂) and after they escaped Vuzgamad she promise to show the woman behind the illusion and after the while ordeal Yvette show us again her good and soft side by checked and fretting over mc ad blamed herself about Vuzgamad,despite that Vuzgamad is absolutely unpredictable and fiercily promise mc that she will always protect mc and when MC ask her to come with her to check on Joyce(mc mother) and she does keep her word and answer was going on Yvette

MC:What Vuzgamad meant she made you?

This....is the first time she's genuinely broken,hurt like a lost puppy both MC and me wish to hug her and lash out at everyone who wish to harm her

Yvette:I have ... history with demons since I was little...

MC:did you seek them?

Yvette then makes an expression of a kicked pup 😥

I never seeked evil😡.... they found me😥 and since then it nevel left me and I'm at war,deal with it every day,I have to survive(I Never Asked For This...*)

So when Yvette see MC and Joyce being a heartwarming family❤ she's overwhelmed by all of this and show us the broken,lonely who have nothing but despair and bitterness thanks to Vuzgamad

That she run away from all of this.

*Definition of go down the rabbit hole : To enter into a situation or begin a process or journey that is particularly strange, problematic, difficult, complex, or chaotic, especially one that becomes increasingly so as it develops or unfolds.

*Definition of Indy ploy:The Indy Ploy is when someone improvises a plan in the middle of the action or comes up with one immediately before the action starts. Either way, the initial plan has failed, and now the character is forced to come up with a new plan on the fly with no time to prepare or think about the consequences.(Which for a crazy prepared,100% in control and all woman Yvette is an out-of-character is a serious business!)

*Tyrion Lannister: " I have a soft spot for Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things"

*Vinca a complex and interessing character to. See here↓

*Adam Jensen

-Deus Ex Human Revolution

#swm yvette #yvette holte #yvette #swm mc

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alexwritesfiction · 4 years ago

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Heyy bestie , I was wondering if you could write a Byler fanfiction where it's a very cold night and Mike is playing at Will's house. But it becomes very cold so Joyce insists Mike to sleep in Will's room. But Will cannot resist himself from watching Mike sleep, so he stays awake and later he cuddles Mike

I hope you'll write xx 🥺🤞

Wish I Were Heather (byler fanfic)

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Warnings: Fluff and a bit of Angst | Pairing: Mike Wheeler/Will Byers (otp <3) | Words: 2029 | Requested: @your-local-book-worm345

A/N: Here it is! the softest ship i can imagine, i love you for sending this in <3 hope you have a good read!

Requests closed | tag list at the end, ask to be +/-

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“Can we play DnD now?” Will asks for the umpteenth time as Mike took a bit of a pause from his rant. He was pretty bummed about how El had dumped him. What had he done wrong, he kept asking Will. Will The Wise, for the first time in forever, had nothing to say.

He’d wanted this forever, for them to be apart so that he could have his chance. But it broke him to see his best friend sad. He couldn’t relish in joy while Mike suffered.

“Yeah, okay.” Mike said distractedly, surprising the living lights out of Will. He’d expected to hear an annoyed “not yet”.

He looked at Mike to confirm he hadn’t heard something wrong, only to see Mike already pulling the game board from under the bed. Before he could even question how it had gotten there, a strong wind thundered outside their window. Mike dropped the game, cringing at the spilt contents on the floor. He was just reaching to pick them up when Joyce’s voice filled the hallway.

“Boys, it looks like it’s going to storm tonight,” she said, concern etched on her face. It was clear she didn’t want either of them going out.

Mike looked at Will, a smile on his face. This confused Will, he couldn’t understand why Mike would be happy he wouldn’t be able to go home tonight. As much as this made hope flutter in his heart, he crushed it down as a simple occurrence.

Will thought about his chances of staying over would be over if he'd still been with El. He didn’t hate El. He really didn’t, but oh how envious he was of her. She had it all, the looks, the brains, the powers, Mike. Everything. Just for once, he wanted to see how it felt like to be her. He wished he was El, just to experience how it would be when everyone you loved, loves you back, counted you as important. He wanted to see how it felt to be in a relationship with Mike Wheeler, to be everything he wants.

“I can stay over tonight, if that’s okay, Mrs. Byers?” Mike voiced out his request, now staring hopefully at Joyce who looked conflicted. She knew Karen, as reckless as she was, cared about Mike and Joyce didn’t know if she’d be okay with the impromptu plan. She shook her thoughts away and focused on the two boys sitting on the bed with their board game yet to be played. d made will extremely sad.

Her lips curled into a genuine smile. She reminisced how long it’d been since things had almost gone back to normal and Will had finally been happy after a long time. Without thinking, she uttered a quick okay, but snapped back to reality when she heard a whoop from the curly haired boy.

Like always, Will expected Mike to leave. He'd stopped staying over at his house since some time, and made will extremely sad.

“Don’t get too excited, I still need to call Karen,” she shushed, taming them down, even though she knew he'd be staying over. The boys shrugged, grinning as they planned out their campaign. They knew she’d relent with enough sweet talk and reassurance.

Will eyed his Will The Wise costume beside his desk but dismissed it quickly. They were probably going to stop playing in just a little while. Will’s mind debated with itself. On one hand, he was delirious that Mike had decided to stay over, but he didn’t know if he'd able to stop himself from acting on his feeling for him. This night could either make him and Mike even closer, or taint their friendship, but nothing could lessen the extent of what he felt for Mike.

Joyce watched the boys for a moment, her gaze lingering a moment more on her son’s nervous face which quickly fizzled into excitement when Mike shook him to show him the game. She’d known he had some feelings for the boy next to him, but she didn’t want to ask him about it. She could see he was extremely touchy about the topics, but she was internally happy that after a long time he was in a dilemma that was actually of his own age and not about a monster being his end.

She sighed softly, leaving the room and calling the Wheelers’. Five minutes later, she was about to knock on the boys’ door when she heard deep laughing from the other side. She figured she’d let them be. She wrote out a note for them saying they could feast all they wanted from the snacks, and then slipped into a much needed peaceful slumber. She wasn't haunted by fear that night like always, but still she thought about a familiar bearded man who sacrificed himself for everything.

She still felt like he was alive, sometimes, like he was just there, trying to reach her. It was moments like these that Will knew to be there for his mother. After all, he knew very well how it was to feel like that.

“Do you want to set up another campaign?” Will asked roughly five hours later, as he slowly started to pack up the game. They’d played DnD late into the night and Mike could feel his eyes drooping heavily with sleep. He covered himself up in the stretched out part of Will’s blanket up to his nose, so that only his eyes were visible. Will was wide awake, he didn’t want to miss a single moment with Mike. Not when this was probably the only time he had Mike all to himself, even for just a while.

“No, I think I'm going to pass out,” Mike groaned, facing the other side, away from Will. Will smiled at how adorable he looked, all wrapped up and about to sleep. A gentle smile spread on his as he quietly watched him. A few beats passed and Mike’s eyes finally closed of their own accord, only to open a second later. His body jerked as he slowly sat up once again. Will frowned as Mike looked at him, and it was different. He looked at him with so much intensity it scared Will.

Mike still had the blanket wrapped around him as he stared into Will’s eyes, biting his lip nervously. He heaved a breath and Will could barely keep his restraint from crushing Mike into his arms, but he didn’t have to, because in the next two seconds, Mike had his arms wrapped Will, enveloping him like he'd never want to let go. He buried his face into Will’s neck and inhaled softly. Will was as still as a statue, not quite comprehending what just happened.

The warmth radiating off of Mike snapped him out of his trance and he hugged him back, with loose hands at first but as soon as he felt Mike’s small smile on his neck, he returned the embrace with just as much force. He felt at home, they both did. It felt to Will as if heaven had come own to greet him as he barely helped himself from choking up. He rested his head softly against Mike’s shoulder, his small frame completely lost in Mike’s lanky posture.

They sat there for god knows how long, just breathing each other in. The moon watched over them as a few silent moments passed, the sounds of their breathing creating a serene atmosphere in the room.

“This is nice,” Will finally managed to voice, still not letting go of his grip on Mike. It felt too real, and he wanted to dream so bad that maybe Mike did reciprocate his feelings. He wanted to dream of being with him, holding hands, sharing everything with him, being more than just friends. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, he couldn’t while Mike was still tangled into him. So he didn’t, deciding to just let the moment be.

Mike hummed in agreement to Will’s comment. His hands on Will tightened again before he took a long breath and whispered words into the air that would be the breaking of Will Byers.

“I'm sorry,”

Will frowned at the words, chest aching as he realized why he'd said it. But Mike could feel the confusion radiating off of him.

“For what I said that day in the rain. I didn’t mean it. I'm sorry, Will. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have pushed you away just because I found a girl. You were so right. I love her, but she could never make me feel the way you do. She’d never be the same as what your friendship means to me, Will.” Mike uttered out in a small voice, as he realized just how true it were. Will was more precious to him than anyone. He'd always felt like he was Wil’s protective shield, and he loved being it. He loved how Will trusted him, how he could feel free with him, everything.

“Mike-” he tried to say, but Mike cut him off.

“I missed you,” Mike said, almost breaking from the comfort he felt in that moment, finally saying the words he'd wanted to as soon as he'd stepped into Will’s house. The force of his words shattered Will, and he drew in a shaky breath before retracting his arms from Mike’s neck. Mike tensed, fearing he’d said something to push him away but relaxed into Will’s touch as soon as he clutched his arms around Mike’s torso, his head now gently resting just near his heart. It didn’t feel awkward at all, rather just deepening the bond between them.

“I missed you too,” Will whispered into Mike’s warmth and he barley caught it because of how inaudibly he spoke. His feeble voice showed how vulnerable he felt, as he held onto Mike for dear life.

They let a minute pass before Mike finally ended the hug, Will wanting for it to last forever. He reluctantly straightened up, giving Mike a small smile as he watched a large grin appear on his face. He looked at Will with pure adoration shining in his eyes.

He grabbed Will, bringing him in for one last hug that only lasted barely three seconds before pulling away and slowly compelling the smaller boy to sleep. He muttered a soft goodnight as he turned to the other side once again, making sure to leave half of the blanket for Will.

Will chuckled, shaking his head as he watched him sleep. In no time, soft snores escaped Mike, making Will smile at how much he felt comfortable with him. He observed Mike’s sleeping form. How his chest rose and fell gently, how there was a crease between his eyebrows, how his lips were in a pout, how is cheeks were a little more chubby, how he looked like an angel resting.

He slid down beside him, wrapping himself in the rest of the blanket. He closed his eyes for a second as if to gain confidence. Without thinking, he intertwined his hand between Mike’s side and his hand resting on his side, so that now he has circling his waist, impossibly close. Will’s eyes snapped towards Mike’s face to see if the sudden action had woken him up. His heart melted with cuteness and relief as Mike slept just as heavy.

Will dared to do something he'd longed to do, feeling brave. He pulled Mike close so that his face was less than a centimetre away from his curls, his body pressed up against Mike’s back. His hand tightened its grip on Mike, but careful to not hurt him. His legs tangled with Mike’s under the warm blanket. He never would have thought in a million years that he'd get to be big spoon with Mike, that he'd get to caress his cheek like he was now.

He couldn’t quit describe how he was feeling, just that it was something that he never wanted to stop. He finally felt like he belonged, right there cuddled up to Mike. He felt loved, he felt comfortable in his own skin, with Mike. And he couldn’t be more grateful.

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#wish i were heather #stranger things fanfic #my works #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #am writing #byler #mike wheeler #will bylers #stranger things

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