#reach into your soul and make you feel it in ways words can't possibly explain

[94erz]

Why did that make me so emotional 😭

I remember almost wanting to cry seeing him at Lolla too but I didn't but seeing this video made me feel something similar like the vibes of the crowd are immaculate his performance is so exceptional, and the orchestra playing during every song escalating the intensity of the tracks like it put me in such a headspace I can't help but get all choked up...

I might actually cry at the concert if this keeps up...

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Last Part

Word Count: 13.8k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, fingering, handjobs, missionary, doggy, mentions of previous noncon, yandere behaviour, violence, bodily harm, alienation

You still have the dreams, the memories, the torment. They never went away despite you trying your goddamn hardest. Your brain seems to conjure them up harder and more vividly the more you work to push them away. You don't know if Beomgyu knows this but he's beside you every possible second of every day, keeping you busy and helping to push it all away, or at least distract you from it. 

You've quit your job. Beomgyu isn't unreasonable. He will help you get another job, just as soon as you feel better. But not right now. You're not ready yet. You need rest and he makes sure you get it, devoting every second he's not at his job or getting you food and stuff you need to taking care of you.

He wanted you to move away, just pack your things and get away from this place that had brought you both such grief, but you couldn't go through with it. Not yet. You had freaked out when he suggested it, telling you it would do you good to get a fresh start and get away from Taehyun but you know he wouldn't be the only one you'd be getting away from. All your friends are here. Your family is here. And even though you're hardly seeing them right now, you know it wouldn't be right to completely uproot yourself from everything you've ever known except Beomgyu. Even though you'd promised to completely and fully devote yourself to only him, you know it can't be good for your already unstable mental state.

You tell him that you'd feel so terribly alone if you move away, especially when he goes to work. So he offers to quit his job to spend all his time with you, explaining that he has put aside some savings he could use for the time being but you still refuse. You tell him that you'd be horribly selfish to let him waste the little precious money he saved up just so he can babysit you but you don’t tell him about how much it scares you to cross that last boundary, to let him completely and utterly devour your entire life despite something at the bottom of your soul telling you to just give it to him.   

Beomgyu reassures you that he doesn’t mind. He wants to spend his money to make sure you're taken care of, but you still refuse. You stand your ground and hold onto the last shred of your life that is not his–for what? You don’t know–and he reluctantly lets it go, for now at least. 

Instead, he uses the time he does have with you to pamper you, feeding you breakfast in bed, getting you things to occupy your time while he's away, drawing baths for you when he gets home from work. It all feels so terribly familiar. The sense of deja vu choking you but Beomgyu is determined to mentally and physically push it all out of your mind and take its place instead. 

He only reads you happy poems and stories, only sings you cheerful love songs. You feel like he’s lulling you into a deep slumber. You're still where you've always been–your friends and family are still within reach, your old life is there to reclaim if you want to–but it's like he'd succeeded in putting a wall between you and the world just like he wanted, and it scares you that you can't tell if that is a good or bad thing. Maybe you should just give into him, fall into him and dissolve into his being until no one will ever be able to pull you apart again. 

You feel his fingers knead the skin of your shoulders as he sits behind you in the bathtub–once again using his free time after work to take care of you instead of giving himself a break after working hard all day. Bubbles and candles surround you, the calming scent of them permeating your brain like a drug, aided by the glass of wine in your hand, to lull you further into your slumber. You let out small hums of appreciation under Beomgyu's expert hands that seem to know you better than you know yourself. How does he know where exactly to touch to unwind a particular knot in your back or relieve a certain stress that has been nagging you for a while? All you have to do is sit there and sip your wine, letting the groggy feeling from the liquid combine with the blissful pleasure of Beomgyu's touch to submerge you deeper into a dreamy state that one day you may never wake up from. 

“There is this beach I was reading about online that I'd like to visit.” You tell him lazily and he chirps happily. He always gets so excited when you initiate any outings or dates to go on and it makes that familiar tender spot in your heart ache at how selfish you’re being. He tries so hard to make you happy and fill your life up with fun and exciting things to do to distract you from the loneliness, and yet you so rarely respond in kind. “Sure. Anything you want, my love.” 

You smile, hearing the relief in his voice, and you go on, a little more excitedly. “It's near that old medieval castle at the cliff top. It's very popular.” 

“Oh, that place.” His hands falter and you can feel a sudden strange chill in the air. “It's just an overrated touristy spot. I know plenty of other beaches that are better.”

You pout. You didn't expect his response. He is usually happy to do whatever you want and you had actually been looking forward to going to that particular beach for a while. “But I want to go there. The beach looks really nice and I thought I could even go explore that old abandoned castle with my prince.” You giggle, trying to crane your head back to send him a flirty look but the expression you find on his face wipes all hints of playfulness off yours.

“And I don't want to. Pick literally anywhere else.” His response is strangely irritated and you frown. You should probably drop it. He is right. There are plenty of nice beaches around. You don't have to go to that particular one. But something about his sharp refusal prompts you to dig more. Stupid girl. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat? 

“Why do I need to when we can just go there?�� You huff, tension creeping back into your shoulders. 

“I said no.” He rebuts with no explanation and your fiery temper sparks through the heavy fog that has been weighing on your brain. 

“Oh, you said no? Well then if Master says no then I guess that's the end of it.” You snap, your anger begging for you to let it catch fire.  

“Why are you being difficult? I thought you said you'd listen to me?” 

And just like it, he snuffs it all under his finger. You immediately shut down. How long is he going to hold that over your head? You've quit your job. You haven't spoken to Taehyun since then. You hardly see your friends. You stay home waiting for him like a dutiful little housewife. What more does he want from you? You know you've made a mistake. You know you promised to make it up to him and regain his trust, but surely asking to visit a stupid beach doesn't count as a potential breach of trust, does it? 

“Forget it.” You mumble, deflated. You were really looking forward to going there. The place looked super pretty online. It was one of the few places lately that have managed to get you excited at the prospect of visiting them. It held a certain vibrant draw to it when everything else seemed gray and dull in comparison. But you guess you can’t have even that.

You try to get out of the bath, no longer in the mood for intimate messages, but Beomgyu holds you back. Of course, he does. 

“Wait.” You hear Beomgyu sigh and let his hands drop to the water to circle around your waist and pull your body back against him, his lips kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder gently, apologetically. “I'm sorry, baby. I just have a bad feeling about that place. Can't you trust me on that?”

A bad feeling about the place? What the fuck does that mean? It’s just a beach, what could possibly go wrong there? 

Still, you hesitate. You didn’t think that anything could go wrong by being friends with Taehyun either and that Beomgyu was being overly jealous and paranoid but here you are. Maybe if you go there you'll fucking drown or something crazy like that.

You suppose you can give him that. You know if you had a bad feeling about a place, Beomgyu would not force you to go there. It probably wouldn’t be fun anyway if you make him go and he hates every second of it. You want to do something you both enjoy. 

But you really wanted to visit that place. Maybe you should go when he's at work… 

No. Just the idea of going out in public alone without Beomgyu makes you shudder. You can't handle being around people without Beomgyu's comforting presence to rely on. He's got you right where he wants you.

“Fine.” You say in a small voice, finally relenting. 

“Thank you, princess.” He sighs in relief and the tension in the air begins to dissipate once again. “I know you’re bored. I promise to take some time off work and take you on a nice vacation somewhere. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” You mumble unenthusiastically. 

“Come on. Cheer up.” He holds your jaw gently and turns you towards him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that slowly turns sensual. 

“Beomgyu…” You whine into his mouth, the water shifting as you rub your thighs together. He will never not have an effect on you. You’re too weak for him. 

“I know, princess.” His hand drops between your legs, loosening you up. “I got you.”

His light touches are as strong as electric currents coursing through your veins, and before long, you find yourself squirming in his hold, pushing yourself closer to his touch while paradoxically trying to get away from the intense feeling at the same time. 

But he doesn’t let you. He throws his other arm over you, caging you into place as he takes a hold of your breasts, kneading them until your nipples have pebbled in need. 

“Baby…” You keen, pushing your breasts further into his hand, and crying out as he pulls one of your perked nipples between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Relax for me, baby.” He hums, holding you in place as he works his fingers inside you. It stings a bit as the water dilutes your arousal but he throws your legs on either edge of the tub to give him more space for his fingers to easily breach your hole, the heel of his palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge so scarily fast that you barely even register the sharp bite of his teeth on your neck as he zealously marks you. “Let me take care of you.” 

It’s a spell–a bid to get you to let go, and it’s so hard to not give in when he makes it feel so damn good. 

You're so exposed like this. Even though there is no one here to see you but Beomgyu, it feels like the whole universe is watching him spread you open to his satisfaction and no amount of faux demurity would fool the universe into believing you're not a willing participant in all of this. It's hard to care about your debauched display when your orgasm was heating you up from the inside so much you feel like you might spontaneously combust. Why is it always so intense with him? How does he do it so well? 

You may never know but what you do know is that your orgasm was rolling towards you like the water rolling over the edge of the tub, sharp and sudden, and when it reaches you it threatens to take you under. But Beomgyu holds your head above the water as his relentless fingers continue to fuck you until you yield to his will. You break apart under his touch, forgetting about everything except him in those few moments, forgetting about the beach, the castle, Taehyun and everything you've lost–the only thing registering in your mind is Beomgyu's touch, Beomgyu's smell, Beomgyu's warmth.  

“Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu!” You cry as your whole body convulses in his arms, yet it doesn't slip from his hold for even a second, and when you finally come down from your quaking orgasm, you're still in his hold but half of the bath water had spilled over the edge, exposing your skin to the chilly room air–a stark contrast to the searing heat of Beomgyu’s hard cock pressing against you lower back as he tries to subtly jerk himself off against you, and it's your turn to hold him in the palm of your hand.

His quiet desperation brings even more memories to mind, memories of prince Beomgyu needily humping you in frantic attempt to get off, secret exclamations of desire and forbidden love whispered hotly on the skin of your neck or ears or breasts as he mounts you like a dog in heat in a way that he makes sure to tell you is not befitting the image of a prince like him. 

But when you turn around, it's your Beomgyu you see there, a regular college student on the surface, though nothing about him is regular. Is he really even your Beomgyu? The image of him in front of you shimmering and wavering between the Beomgyu you know and prince Beomgyu, and you're not sure which one is real anymore.

“You’re perfect.” He tries to reach out to you but you put his hands on either edge of the bathtub. “Keep those there.”

“Baby–” He starts to whine but shuts up when you grab his submerged cock and start jerking him off roughly. More water splashes out of the tub but neither of you care. He'll clean it up after anyway and you don’t even feel guilty about it. 

“Please, please.” He cries pathetically as if you're the one in control.

“Please what?” You ask curiously as if you're expecting him to suddenly reveal something that would make sense of the tangled mess you've made of him in your mind. 

“Anything.” 

You snort. “God, if someone is to see you like this they'd think I never touch you. You've been cumming every day, in my hand, my mouth, my ass, my cunt, on my face, my tits, my back…”

“It's not enough.” He shakes his head, looking delirious. “Never enough.”

“Well if it's not enough then what's the point of me doing this?” You taunt, going to pull your hand away from him but his own hands quickly fly out to grab yours and put it back on his cock as his whole body springs forward to get close to you as if he could glue his body to yours so you can't escape. “No! Please!”

“Get your hands off me.” You growl and he quickly puts his hands back on the tub's edge, trying to appease you so you wouldn’t deny him, but it’s not enough. He has to feel as helpless as he makes you feel and so you push him away roughly, his head almost hitting the ceramic as his back meets the wall of the tub. 

“You can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” You purr, raising your free hand to his chest to play with his nipples, making his back arch and his fingers turn as white as the ceramic they're gripping onto while your other hand twists over his cock. 

“Sorry.”

God, you hate hearing that false word fall out of his mouth. You're pretty sure Beomgyu has never been sorry for anything in his life. 

“Are you?” You challenge, squeezing your hand around the head of his cock tightly. “Are you really sorry?” 

“Princess?” He cocks his head to the side innocently, as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. God, how he drives you crazy. “Please, I’ve been good.” 

Has he? You can’t tell anymore. He's poisoned your mind so much you can't think straight. 

You sigh, jerking him off fast, hard, knowing that the only thing that can soothe your troubled mind right now is watching your tormenter–your everything–fall apart in your grip just like he had done to you over and over again. And he doesn't disappoint. 

“Fuck! Oh, gods, I'm so close.” 

“Gods?” You laugh. That’s new. “I'm your only god, baby.”

“Yeah… only you.” He easily agrees with whatever you say, no thoughts behind his big adoring eyes, his body lying limp in the bathtub, only his hips moving to meet your fist everytime it goes down to smack against his pelvis. “Wanna cum for you. Worked so hard for it.”

“You did, didn't you?” You coo, one of your thumbs brushing against his hard nipples while the other teases the slit of his leaking cock. “Worked so hard to take care of me. Just need a little bit of attention in return, don't you?”

He nods eagerly, his lewd unabashed moans echoing all around the small bathroom as his high builds and builds, not daring to snap without your divine order. “Please, please…”

“Poor baby.” You tsk, looking at the man laid out before you and knowing in your heart of hearts that he was far from innocent. 

Rotten. That's the word that comes to mind when you look at him and you can't put your finger on why. But then why does he still look so beautiful to you? 

“Cum for me, love.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He cries out, his cum shooting out of his cock and immediately dispersing in the soapy water, tainting it like he's tainted you but you can’t get yourself to get away from it, the same way you can't get yourself to get away from him. You're rotten too now.  

“I love you so much.” He slurs as his body sinks into the water. 

“I know.” You do. It's the only thing you can be sure of anymore in the confusing mess that has become your life. That and “I love you too.”

___________________________

“Taehyun, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” Your slow dreamy life comes into sudden disturbing focus when you see the one person you've been hiding from standing right outside your door. But your barrage of questions can't stop him from pushing past you into the apartment and back into your life. 

“I got your address from Yujin.” He explains once he's in and you look around in worry. He shouldn't be here. You'd barely managed to convince Beomgyu not to hurt him when he found out you had kissed him. What is he going to do if he finds him alone with you in the apartment while he's at work? You can't even let yourself think about it. It's too terrifying. You need to get him out. Why the fuck would Yunjun give him your address? Is she doing this to get back at Beomgyu? To get back at you? 

“Please leave. Beomgyu is going to lose his shit if he sees you.” You tell him as if that's not the understatement of the century. But Taehyun doesn’t appear to be phased. 

“I know. He is very dangerous. That's why I'm here.” He tells you, calmly acknowledging your statement that would have anyone else possibly running for the hills. “I have to tell you something. I think you were right. I think the dreams are memories.” 

You freeze in your spot, all thoughts of getting him out of here suddenly put on the backburner. What the hell is he saying? Has he gone crazy too?

You have secretly, shamefully, been harboring that rotten suspicion for a while now. The dreams just all felt too real to just be dreams. Nothing that vivid, that detailed, could just be the product of a slumbering mind, right? Besides, it didn't even stop at the dreams. You were having these “recollections” even while you're awake now, but you don’t dare believe them to be real memories because what would that mean for you? Best case scenario is that you've officially lost your mind and worst case scenario is that all of those dreams and images actually are real and Beomgyu really did all those awful things. You did all those awful things for him. 

“What makes you say that?” You gulp, asking cautiously. This feels like one of those moments that could forever change the trajectory of your life and maybe if you keep a cool safe distance away, you'd come out of this unscathed.

“I have been having more of them too. They have been plaguing my every sleeping moment, my every waking moment. They’re driving me insane–” He looks up at you and his expression almost knocks you off your feet. You know that look all too well. You see it in the mirror every day now. It’s the look of someone feeling themselves going mad and hoping that they really are because the alternative is just too cruel to consider–all the grief, all the blood, all the loss. No, it’s simply too much to bear, and you can hear the same torment you’re running from twisting his voice as he goes on. “Memories of us together… we were married in your dreams, right?”

His face is afflicted with an agony so raw it lashes against your skin in thick, bitter strokes that leave you gasping.  You never told him that. How did he know that? Okay, calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just had a lucky guess. Nothing more. 

“Yeah.” You admit slowly, watching him cautiously as if waiting for a further attack from him, and he doesn't disappoint. 

“You left me for him.” He says, an accusation in his voice that makes you falter. He is speaking to you as if he’s now fully convinced that the dreams are true, as if you really were married and you’d left him for Beomgyu. 

“No!” It feels strange defending something that a possibly fictional, possibly real version of you may have done because she's not you!--or is she? You didn’t leave him but you did. You don’t have to answer for her crimes but you feel compelled to try to anyway. “I thought I was saving you.”

But that just makes him angry, his fury so deep it couldn’t possibly have just been born today. It feels ancient, the edge of it sharpening over centuries. “Don't lie. That's not why you left.”

“It is. I swear. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone.” Your words sound insane even to your own ears but they're tumbling out of your mouth before you can even fully process them, again feeling compelled to defend yourself. You don’t even understand half of what you’re fighting about–your only aid in this battle are half-formed images of a fabled previous life you don’t want to remember.

“You’re lying to yourself.” He spits out bitterly, his visage taking on a hue that makes him look much older than he actually is–that makes him look like the Taehyun from your dreams, afflicted by loss and death and forced to grow up way too quickly. And here he is again, aging years in the blink of an eye. “You knew how crazy he was. You knew he wouldn't stop and you didn’t care. You just wanted to go back to him. You never fucking cared.”

“I didn't. I swear to god–” The way his conversation was heading brings a fresh wave of nauseating deja vu crashing onto you. You shake your head, trying to dispel whatever Folie a deux you both seem to have fallen victim to. You need to pull the plug on this insanity before you completely lose your mind. 

“Forget it. This is insane. Those memories aren't real. We're just working ourselves up into a frenzy. My brain has obviously sprung up all that shit out of my anxiety regarding me and Beomgyu's relationship, and after I told you about them, you started dreaming them up too.” You narrow your eyes at him as you attempt to rationalize your way through this mess, “Or you're taking advantage of my obvious mental instability to convince me to ditch my boyfriend to be with you.”

That must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense and you try to hold onto it like a woman drowning, but Taehyun refuses to let you. 

“For fuck's sake, woman, wake up!” He grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you as if he could forcefully shake off the walls of denial you’ve been trying to build around yourself. “It's me. We've been reincarnated again for some sick reason and we're forced to relive everything we've done again, just in a different setting. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe it's a test to see if we would choose differently. Choose right.”

“And the right choice is you?” You ask and he scoffs, looking affronted by the mere idea of there being a question about it. “It clearly isn't him. After all he's done to you. He imprisoned you. He raped you… He killed you.”

He looks as if he doesn't fully realize what he'd said until he’d said it, as if the returning memory was compelling his tongue to speak before it's been fully realized in his brain, and as the memory passes through him to you, you suddenly feel a sharp, piercing pain in your abdomen. It only lasts for a second but it draws the breath right out of you. For that second it feels like your soul is being carried away on that breath and you panic at the terrifyingly all too familiar sensation of dying. No. No. No.

But just as suddenly as that breath was exhaled, it was shoved back into your chest when Taehyun covers the phantom wound with his hand. Your own hands quickly clasp around his, and your eyes widen in a gruesome realization. 

“He killed our baby.” You whisper, your face suddenly wet with tears you didn't realize were there. Oh god. You're the dead ex-girlfriend, aren't you? There was never anyone else. It was always you.

“He did. He wasn’t going to let anyone have you if he couldn’t. Even your own child.” Taehyun says, allowing a painful melancholy back into his voice. “So he stole you from the world.” 

You and Taehyun slowly and fearfully piece together this traumatic past life you seemed to share, some details you had already recalled before while others were triggered by Taehyun’s own mad recollections. It's not a perfect story. There are many gaps in it but the main frame is enough. 

You were a Lady at Prince Beomgyu's royal palace. You loved each other but couldn't be together because he was betrothed to someone else, couldn't even tell eachother. But Beomgyu was secretly plotting to keep you bound to him, and it was working until Taehyun came into the picture and you developed an interest in each other. Beomgyu didn’t like that and he went crazy and… he hurt you. That pushed you to finally escape from him and marry Taehyun but your marriage wasn't perfect and Beomgyu took advantage of that. He threatened the lives of thousands, including Taehyun, if you didn’t go back to him. Taehyun told you not to but you did. You thought you'd be saving him and everyone else but you had just stupidly walked into Beomgyu's trap. He never intended to let Taehyun live. And when you finally realized your mistake, when you saw Taehyun's life on the line, you acted in a moment's frenzy to save him, plunging your knife right into Beomgyu's heart and ultimately succumbing to a fatal wound he dealt to you in response with a kiss and a promise that he'd find you again.

And he did. Gods help you, he did. 

It's a horrific story, disgusting, cruel, and you don’t want to believe it. It can't be. 

“We have to go. We have to leave before he comes back.” Taehyun pulls on your arm but you hesitate, automatically digging your heels on the ground and not letting him move you. He stares at you in shock. “You can't be serious? You're choosing him again after everything?”

You shake your head, panicking. “No, Taehyun–”

You want to tell him that you haven't chosen anything. You just don't know enough to make a decision. You still don't know if any of this is actually real or if you're both just mad. Even if your brain tells you it is, your heart tells you that it can't be true. This is ridiculous. Beomgyu loves you. He would never do this to you. And who is to say that he even knows any of this himself? What if he's just like you and Taehyun were at first, only feeling an inexplicable sense of love for you and hatred towards Taehyun that he doesn’t even understand the source of? Is that why he had been acting so irrational and scared to lose you? Because he has all these emotions he can't explain? 

And what about Taehyun? Yes, you had something maybe in a past life but does any of that translate into right now? Can you abandon Beomgyu and the real love you have for each other in order to build a relationship based just on memories of a previous life that ended tragically for all of you? Did that past Taehyun even love you?

You want to explain all of that to him but you don't even get the chance to before you're interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the front door's lock. 

Your eyes widen and fear grips your heart. Despite what you tell yourself about none of this being real, you suddenly fear for Taehyun's life. 

“Hide. Please, hide.” You try to tell him but he's not listening to you. He has no intention of hiding and you can see that when he grabs your hand and pulls you behind him roughly. 

When Beomgyu steps into the house and sees you, all doubt in your heart about the memories being false dash out of the room with the first word out of his mouth. 

“Again?” He asks coldly, viciously. “I knew from the moment you met him that this would happen. Even centuries later you can’t fucking help but act like a slut when he's around, huh?”

“You knew.” You croak, throat closing up to try to prevent that breath from escaping once again, fear shaking you to your core. “You always knew.”

You were too kind. Too stupid. He wasn't acting crazy because he loves you so much and was afraid of losing you. He wasn't acting crazy because he didn't understand his own feelings. He was acting crazy because he's done this before and he’ll be damned if he lets you ruin it again. 

"Of course I did. I have to find you every time.” 

“Every time?” The shaking spreads to your heart, weakening it, throwing off its rhythm. Your poor, naive heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself when the one person it loved and trusted in the world has been lying to it this whole time. “This happened more than once before?”

He laughs cruelly. “This, something else, the details differ but it's always us. Me and you.” He turns to Taehyun with rage that could hardly be contained in the small room. “Not him. I haven't seen him since that first time. The gods really wanted to piss me off this time.”

“Or maybe they wanted her to finally break free from you.” Taehyun's grip tightens around you–to hold you back or to protect you, you don’t know–something that Beomgyu doesn’t fail to notice, his upper lip curling in a snarl, clearly displeased that Taehyun even dares to touch you. But before he can act out on his rage, you speak up. 

“So what? We just keep getting reincarnated and reliving this misery over and over again?” You’re surprised he hears you when you can hardly hear yourself. 

“You do. Not me. I was only reincarnated once, right after we died. I spent many lifetimes in your tomb, mourning you. I thought that was what I was brought back for and I would've stayed there forever but I was drawn out by the gods who wanted me to realize they’ve sent you back again and again for me to find you. It's amusing to them, to see me suffer and lose you.” 

He knew from the beginning. He knew lifetimes ago and he lied to you from the start, made you feel crazy for having these dreams, tried to gaslight you into believing it was all in your head all while working to put distance between you and everyone else so he can have you all to himself. How long was he going to keep up the facade for? Is this what he did every time or does he always come up with new cruel and unusual ways to break you just like he did that very first time? 

“Why?” You ask lowly and he stares at you in confusion, not understanding the question so you gather up your strength and speak louder, more clearly. You need to finally get answers. “Does it ever work?” 

“Sometimes it does. For a little while anyway, before the gods decide we've had it good for too long and tear us apart again.” He scowls, blasphemously enraged at those mythically evil gods. “At first I thought they were giving us second chances but they're just laughing at us, watching us get together before ripping us apart like a child ripping the wings off a fly.”

“Then why let them? Why keep doing it?” You ask again and Beomgyu directs his anger at you. 

"Would you have been able to have all those memories of us, not just of our first life but every single one after, all these fragments of our infinity together and just ignore it and move on, just pretend like you don't know the other half of your soul is out there waiting for you to complete them?"

You shake your head. No. You've fallen for it before you'd even regained your memories. You can't imagine how brutal it is on him. God, to imagine him scouring the earth looking for you only to lose you again and again in horrific ways… it made your soul ache for him despite everything. 

"I have to keep trying. We were so close this time. We were fucking happy. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for us but you had to ruin it. You had to let him in.” He growls at Taehyun who was unimpressed with his entire confession. 

“If my mere existence was enough to ruin your happiness then maybe it wasn't real from the start.” He challenges, not letting you go for a second. He'd learned his lesson. His hold on you hurts, turns your hand cold and blue but you dare not protest. “You've lied to her, manipulated her and blinded her until she bowed to your twisted will and even then she was still struggling against you every step of the way. If you really loved her, you would let her go. I bet she was the most happy during those lifetimes when you were under the ground in her tomb where you belong. You killed her. You deserve to mourn her for eternity. You don't deserve to get a second chance with her.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. I know she wants to be with me, which is more than I could say about you.” Beomgyu’s face twists in a sadistic grin. “Despite everything, she still can’t live without me. You know, because you've tried to make her. She never loved you and it kills you to know it.” 

That works. Taehyun lets go of your hand and lunges at him. Beomgyu is on the ground before the scream leaves your tense throat. He didn’t stand a chance. You’ve seen Taehyun fight before, and Beomgyu–immortal being that he is–still is not able to weather the flurry of punches Taehyun’s trained fists are raining down at him. 

Taehyun pummels him to the ground right in front of your eyes and you can’t bear to see it. Yes, Beomgyu has hurt you. Yes, he has been lying to you and manipulating you all this time. Yes, he's done unthinkable things for you, to you, but you still can't just stand there and watch him get hurt. You're sick of all the pain. You want it to be different this time. Maybe that's the way to break free of this curse. 

You try to tear them apart but Taehyun is like an unstoppable force that has been dying to be unleashed. You cry and pull and plead but he doesn’t stop, slowly reducing the love of your life into a bloody, gory crime scene before your very eyes and you don't know what to do to stop him. 

It’s only when you see the glint of a knife as he pulls it out of his pocket that you’re able to finally do something to stop the carnage, and you throw yourself over Beomgyu in order to protect him. 

“Please!” You cry out, inconsolable. “Please, stop hurting him.”

Please, don’t take him from me again. You hear her sob from deep inside your soul, getting louder and louder by the second as she struggles to finally break through the rusty door of memory and time. 

“He has to die.” Taehyun growls, looking crazed. “He won't stop until he’s dead.”

No. No more death. That can’t be how it ends again. 

“I can't let you hurt him.” You sob, shielding Beomgyu with your life. You don’t know if this Taehyun would kill you–You don’t know if past Taehyun would’ve killed you–but you can’t let him do this. 

“I knew you would choose me, princess.” You hear Beomgyu’s muffled voice from beneath you and look down to see a demented, bloody grin on his face before you and Taehyun are thrown off him. 

He does it so easily, leaving you to gape at him in shock. If he could’ve done this from the start then why did he let Taehyun beat him up? 

You watch in horror as the tables quickly turn and in the blink of an eye it’s Taehyun that is on the floor and Beomgyu is on top of him with his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him. No matter how hard Taehyun tries to push him off, he does not budge. 

You try too. Beomgyu was never heavy, even you are usually able to throw him around if you really wanted to, but now he is like a rock that can’t be moved. You rip at his clothes and nothing. You claw at his skin and nothing. Nothing happens except the slow snuffing of Taehyun’s breath under him. 

“No. Why are you doing this?” You wail, tears burning on your cheeks. “Just stop. Please. I can’t lose either of you again.” 

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that would only make Beomgyu angrier. "This is why he has to die. We were happy before he came along and we’ll be happy again once he’s gone.” 

You can see Taehyun’s face turn blue as he struggles and fails to push Beomgyu off him, the only sound coming from him are his thrashing limbs, no air able to escape from under Beomgyu’s death grip. 

The view is enough to suffocate even you and you quickly say everything you could think of that might persuade Beomgyu to spare Taehyun, even if spelt your own doom. “Don't hurt him. I'll go with you. I swear I will go with you and I won't try to fight you ever again. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll be all yours.” 

“Your promises mean nothing to me when you’ve broken them so easily before. It doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyway.” He answers, unimpressed and you shake your head. “I will fight you every day if you hurt him. I will never forgive you. You may have me physically but my heart won’t be yours anymore. You’ve fucked up so much Beomgyu. You owe me this.” 

He grunts, his hands tightening around Taehyun’s throat for a second–the poor man’s face almost turning purple now–before he loosens his grip enough to allow a thin, raspy breath of air into Taehyun’s lungs. 

“What does it matter anyway? He'll be reborn again. Away from us.” He spits out angrily, his fingers twitching–dying to resume their vice grip on Taehyun’s throat but thankfully holding back.  

"It matters to me. If you want me to let you have me, you’ll spare him.” 

To your surprise, it is not Beomgyu but Taehyun who speaks up, his voice so uncharacteristically weak coming out of his almost crushed windpipe. “Let him kill me. Maybe then I'll be rid of you.”

The coldness in his voice freezes the air in your lungs, forming jagged icicles that tear you apart from the inside. 

“You've made a fool of me too many times before. I will not live out another life as a fool. Free me of you.”

You hold back your tears. “Taehyun…” 

“You'll never escape from him because you deserve him.” 

Beomgyu looks torn between his fury at Taehyun’s vicious attack on you, and his relief that he’s ruining whatever goodwill you’d built up behind his back, but he seems to settle on the latter, a slow unkind smile warping his lips. 

“See what he is? He was never the better option. He would never love you like I do, unconditionally and forever. Let me kill him. It will do us all good.” His voice turns fearsome on that last appeal and you struggle to remain unshaken in the face of it. Yes, you deserve this. If all the little and big pieces of your past life that have come back to you are real then you deserve to live in a world bound to the monster you nurtured and hated by the one man who tried to break you free from him. 

“Let him live.” You insist, fighting both men for Taehyun’s life now. “Let him live or I’ll make sure that all that you’ve worked for this time will have been for naught. You may as well kill me after him because you’ll never be able to have me in this lifetime again.” 

Beomgyu bares his teeth at you like a feral dog, unhappy about your demands of mercy for the sake of the man who in his eyes was the reason he lost you–and by the sounds of it is intent on doing it again.

“If you keep me alive I will hunt you both down until I kill you.” He warns and Beomgyu looks at you in a silent plea, like a child begging to pour salt on a slug, but you shake your head at him. 

Do you not care about his threat? Of course you do. Do you not believe him? Of course you do. But just like before, you've got no one to blame but yourself and Beomgyu–Beomgyu because he forces the strings of fate to weave to his will and bring you together no matter how ugly and knotted it ends up making your lives, and you for always stringing along innocent people into it, tying them up into a mess that isn’t their own. 

“Come on, Beomgyu.” You put your hand out to him. “Let’s go.” 

You see the vitriol in his eyes soften at the extended hand. You know he wants to take it. He wants nothing more than to take your hand and disappear forever with you–Taehyun is an afterthought to him, this entire life just a distraction in the grand scheme of things–and so he does. He reaches out to take your hand, but not before he grabs Taehyun’s head, smacking it against the hard ground and knocking him out. 

You gasp at the violent action, withdrawing your hand in shock but Beomgyu doesn’t let you, reaching out to clasp it tightly in his own hand, reminding you that once you give him something, you can never have it back. “Beomgyu!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up and pulling you flush against his body. “He’ll live. Might take some time to recover, or better yet he’ll be dumber for it, but he’ll live just like you wanted. Now forget about him and just focus on me.” He grabs your chin and turns your gaze away from the unconscious Taehyun and towards his own face. “You have to hold up your end of the bargain now princess or you'll pay with his life.” 

Of course. Even this small act of kindness couldn't be selfless. He only did it in order to ensure your good behavior. As long as you live, you’ll have to appease Beomgyu's demented whims or Taehyun’s life will be on the line. A deal with the devil.

Your lips tremble and you ask yourself. Is this really what you deserve after all? Were the sins of your past life so offensive to the gods that the only way to pay for them is through eternal damnation with your monster? Was there no hope of salvation for you? And would you have taken it if there was? 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask in a shaky voice as he pulls you after him and away from the flat, leaving every part of this temporary life behind. 

"Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

__________________________________

The journey to this place in the middle of nowhere lasts longer than you could’ve imagined, longer than you could stay awake, that it feels like he was really taking you somewhere at the edge of the universe where no one can reach you ever again. You doze off as the adrenaline that had kept you going until now leaves your body, and Beomgyu is more than happy to let you rest in the backseat of his car as he takes you through dark remote areas you wouldn’t have been able to keep track of even if you were awake. 

When you finally reach your destination and groggily step out of the car with his help, you almost think you’re still dreaming, because in front of you is a massive mansion you’ve never seen or heard off before. All the way around was nothing but empty woods, the imposing and impressive structure seemingly completely cut off from the rest of the world. 

You look at Beomgyu in shock, the sleep flying off your eyes at the unexpected sight. 

Beomgyu grins–or at least attempts to through the swelling of his lips, his bloody teeth barely visible underneath. Oh, your poor beautiful boy. He looks like a mess. “Do you like it, princess?” 

“H-How?” You ask cluelessly as he pulls you towards the entrance. “Being immortal has its perks. I knew I needed to make myself a small fortune to show off whenever you were ready to come back to me.” 

You’re in for a bigger shock when you finally step inside the mansion, because everyone and everything here–all the decorations, furniture, servants and household staff gathered around to greet you–are all styled in a way you only recognize from your dreams. The entire mansion looks as if Beomgyu had plucked it straight out of your first life. 

And yes, there are people there. You had been fully expecting this grand building to be running on magic or something ridiculous like that. After all, if immortality and vengeful gods are real, what makes the thought that stupid? But no, there are people here and you honestly can’t tell if they belong to this era or if Beomgyu somehow stole them from your previous life. 

“Welcome home, my lady.” A woman who you presume to be the head of the household staff bows towards you. You just stare at her, mouth agape. She didn’t look like she was wearing a costume or putting on an act. She looked exactly how you remember the staff at the old palace looked like.  

And what did she say? Home? Is this really home? It looked like it–definitely smaller than Beomgyu’s old palace despite how big and opulent it is by modern standards– but you’re scared by how your guards are already going down by the familiar sight. 

Beomgyu nudges you as the woman straightens back up and stares at you in expectation. 

“Uh, yes, thank you.” You chew on your lip and Beomgyu chuckles lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my princess. This is all a bit of a shock for her. I am sure once she goes back to her old self, she’ll be much more mannerly.” 

“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me.” The woman laughed graciously in turn, “The poor dear must be exhausted from all that travel. I know we have all been waiting for her to finally arrive but I suppose our welcome party will have to wait for the morning when she’s properly rested.”

They have been waiting? They knew you were coming. Beomgyu was always going to win, wasn't he? It was just a matter of time. He always does.

“That’s right. She can hardly stay upright from the fatigue.” He pulls you towards him, and you realize belatedly that he’s holding you up by the waist. “Pray tell me that our bath is ready.”

“Of course, my prince. And a fresh change of clothes too.” She chirps happily, proud of her immaculate service. “It’s all waiting for you upstairs.” 

“Wonderful.” Beomgyu turns towards you and smiles, “Let's head to our chambers, love, shall we?”

Your spacious bedroom has an almost equally large ensuite attached to it where some servants were still fussing about, putting extra oils and salts into your bath to make it gentler and more calming, before Beomgyu dismisses them and goes about his familiar habit of bathing both you and himself. You barely register any of it, too preoccupied by the overstated luxury of the place around you to pay much attention to him undressing you and pulling you into the large tub–the water a perfect temperature, the smell heavenly, his touch both gentle and purposeful as he attempts to cleanse you of your previous life. 

You feel both out of place and right at home, the two very different sides of you pushing and pulling as you look around the room. The way this bathroom is decorated and even the products he’s using look and feel more expensive than your entire life had been so far, and Beomgyu appears well aware of that fact and quite pleased with it too–happy that he could finally show off what he’s been dying to for so long. You always had a feeling he wanted to shower you in the finer things and you never understood or accepted it because you thought he was just another broke college student making stupid rash decisions in order to impress his love, but now you get it. 

He makes sure to explain to you the source of everything he’s using and the rare ingredients that go into it, trying to appeal to that old part of you that had apparently yearned for spoils and riches. Of course these weren’t just simple shower products that normal plebs use. These were made specifically for you, just waiting for your arrival. He points out every aspect of the bathroom and the room attached to it that seems to be catching your eye at the moment and tells you how he chose them and where he got them from–how he chose the golden and brown accents because they’re reminiscent of the sunflowers you so adore–how he had the ceiling decorated in shining stars to resemble the stars you would see when you laid in each other’s arms in the palace gardens. It was all so meticulously planned and decorated just for you. 

Is it really for you though? It may have been for a past you but are you still her? Can this extravagance be for you when you never even realized that anyone would ever care to spend so much money on a place that everyone else uses only to get rid of their waste or wash off the dirt and grime off their bodies? 

But as Beomgyu continues to flaunt it all to you, you realize that even a room as ordinary as a bathroom is another space where the rich and powerful can show off their wealth. It’s a room where they go to shed the filth of the outside world away and relish in their highly curated luxury and beauty just as Beomgyu is doing right now–diligently scrubbing that real world off you and washing it down the drain until this fantasy mansion looks like it could be where you belong. 

If just the bathroom was hard for you to wrap your head around, you can’t even begin to describe how lavish the connected bedroom is, but one thing that catches your eye amidst the exuberance of it all is the portrait in the middle of the wall facing you. It’s a portrait of you and Beomgyu, or rather prince Beomgyu and the person you were back then. He is standing behind you in all his royal garb and you’re in front of him dressed in the finest silks and jewelry money can buy, shining like his most prized possession as one of his hands rests on your shoulder and another is seen wrapped around your waist possessively.  

“Do you like it, princess?” He asks after he dries you off with the softest towel you’ve ever felt on your skin, his hands almost mirroring the portrait as his slightly bloody lips follow the curve of your neck, not caring if he leaves small crimson streaks on your skin. “Does the place suit your taste?” 

“It’s…” You utter slowly, eyes jumping around the room as Beomgyu stares at you with hopeful anticipation, waiting for the realization of all his effort, but as you say your next words, his expression falls. “It’s a lot.” 

“A lot?” He scoffs, offended. “The you I know would never say such a word.” 

You gulp. “Well maybe that person isn’t here anymore.” 

Why would you say that? Why would you purposefully upset him when he’s shown you time and time again what he’s capable of? It’s a lie of course. She has always been there deep inside, slumbering but not dead, just waiting for him to come back and awaken her. 

“Not there anymore?” He growls, pushing you onto the impossibly soft bed and climbing over you, not as gentle as he had been so far. “Bullshit. You just need a little reminding.”

He kisses you roughly, angrily, with the weight of centuries of longing that had turned sharp and tender. You can’t help but respond back. Despite your words, she claws her way out of the abyss at his beckoning. 

“Why do you always have to make me work for it?” He growls, nipping at your neck while his fingers find their way between your legs, the easy practiced way he can get you dripping no longer such a mystery to you. He has honed it over lifetimes. “Why do you love torturing me?” 

You? Torturing him? He has controlled you in this life and the first one and probably all others in between. He has manipulated and hurt you in countless ways and yet you’re the one hurting him? 

“Because you deserve it.” You breathe out mournfully, “We deserve it.” 

His swollen lips curl in distaste. “I don’t care. As long as I got you, I don't give a shit about anything else. Let me be damned for all of eternity as long as you're mine.” He kisses you again, the metallic bitter taste of blood combined with his natural sweetness so fitting for him, your corrupted angel. “Always mine.” 

He pushes his fingers inside you and your pussy takes him easily, knowing who it belongs to before even you did. 

The way he has you on your back with your legs open and your feet in the air is a scene you’re sure has recurred over and over again across your centuries with him, repeatedly laying his claim to your pliant body until you can no longer rebuke him, your body knowing what to expect now even if your mind still struggles to catch up. 

You feel Beomgyu pull on your hand to wrap it around his cock, the silent order from him not needing to be said out loud for your body to start acting, your grip on him turning firm as your hand moves in that practiced way over his cock that has his jaw hanging open and his back arching into your touch, his eyes hungrily feasting on the sight of you splayed open and ready for the taking.  But he waits, letting both your desires build up to an unbearable heat. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu… just do it already.” You hiss, sick of the wait. He knows you're his. You've always been and always will be so he should just get it over with. But of course Beomgyu can't let it be that simple. He has to force you to say it. He has to rub your face in it so you won't dare disobey or deny him again. 

“Is my princess in there?” He cocks his head to the side, his thumb flicking your swollen clit, making you bite down on your lip. You can’t bear the way he looks at you. It makes your skin burn. 

“Yes.” A few hot tears fall down the sides of your face. Why bother fighting it anymore? He has won. 

“Does she want me?” He continues, pulling his fingers out and making you whimper at the emptiness as he takes your hand off him so he can replace his fingers at your entrance with the head of his cock, hot and thick, taunting you with what he could give you if you bend to his will. “Do you want me?”

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you and looking right into your core, forcing you to face him as you give in. 

You let out a pathetic cry. “Yes. I want you. I will always want you.”

“Good girl.” He pushes inside you, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, like coming home after being lost for so long. “I missed you so much. I always knew you'd come back to me.”

He did. This entire mansion is a testament to it. And so you lie there on your back and take it, getting fucked open by Beomgyu, his beat up face not taking away from his beauty. If anything, his bruised and bloody visage contrasts with the backdrop of the elaborate and extravagant ceiling above him and serves to drive home the lengths he’s willing to go–the ugliness and horror he’s willing to let come pass so he can have you, so he can steal you away and keep you as a good, pliant fucktoy for the prince who had always been greedy for more than his fair share. 

“Maybe I should thank the fool for getting you back to me.” He murmurs, making your eyes jump from the glittering chandelier above him to his sparkling eyes that cannot be dimmed even by the blackness around them, that have only been put off once by death itself before he revolted against it and came back for you. “Getting you to remember us.” 

You frown. You know what he means. You were together before Taehyun came into the picture but not fully, not the way he wanted you to be. But now he's slowly getting back the you he's always been chasing, the you he may have only reunited with a few times over centuries. You understand that. Still that doesn't mean he can disparage Taehyun, and it doesn’t mean that you want to be reminded of him. 

“Don't speak of him.” You don't want to hear it. You're here, aren't you? He won and you’re here. He should just let you forget what that has meant for you. 

He smiles, more than happy to not speak another word of Taehyun ever again, and rewards you by bending down to kiss you as he fucks his cock ruthlessly in and out of you, fully devoted to helping you forget. 

“Fuck, I really missed you.” He groans against your lips before pulling back so he can feast his eyes on you. “Now that I have you back I don't think I can give you a break until I show you just how much I missed you. Gotta make up for all our lost time.” He drills his cock faster and harder into you, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh ringing around the room so loudly you're worried that all other occupants of the house can also hear it. “Not gonna rest until all your holes are filled to the brim with my cum and you remember just how much I love you.” 

“Gyu…” You whine at his loud promises, fearing the rest of the household is hearing his filth. “Keep it down.”

He laughs, fucking you harder. “Why should I? Everyone here knows who you belong to. They know their master will be fucking his princess every night. Every day. They may as well get used to it now because I don’t intend on hiding any of it.”

“What?” Your cheeks flush bright, surely he is not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting. 

“This isn't our old palace, princess. I don't have to hide what is mine anymore and I expect you not to either. And if that means they can hear or even see me claiming what is mine then so be it. It’s what I always wished I could do anyway.” 

Yes, you know that very well–images of Prince Beomgyu’s attempts at inappropriate touches in public flitting through your brain. You shake your head, whining. “Not hiding, just common decency…” 

“Fuck that. Gonna show the whole universe who this pussy belongs to.” He growls, and you feel one of his hands move between your bodies to reach your pussy, his fingers easily rubbing your soaked lips and making your thighs tense up. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clenching around him when you get no escape from it, his hips incessantly thrusting against yours and barreling you towards what you know will be a blinding orgasm. “It’s too much.” 

He shakes his head, fingers going faster. “Not enough. Never enough. Now cum for me, princess. Make a mess on my cock.” 

As if you could have stopped it even if you wanted to. Your orgasm causes your whole body to seize up–your thighs crash around his thin waist, your pussy spasming on his twitching cock, your nails digging down into the flesh of his back as you throw your head back and cry out loudly, the irony of you asking for decency not lost on your grinning lover. 

“That’s it. Good girl. Now take it. Take all of me.” He grunts, spending himself inside you, the first of the many times he promised you he would. The first of your lifetime together. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

In the heat of it all, it takes you a second to respond, a second too long for Beomgyu’s liking, and he grabs your face and makes you lock eyes with him. “I love you.” He repeats, continuing to fuck his cum into you as he waits for your response. 

“I-I love you too.” You gasp out, your nails digging even deeper into his skin, begging him to give you a break, the overstimulation ruthlessly gripping your own flesh. “I love you. Please.” 

He finally slows down. It takes him a minute to completely stop, and you can see that he didn’t really want to but he does iit for you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, doubt and insecurity plaguing his swollen features, silently asking you to put his troubled soul at ease. He may be a cruel and calculating being sent back to punish you for your sins, but underneath it all he’s still your lovesick boy, your prince whose soul yearns for yours, and it would be the cruelest thing of all to deny him that one thing that keeps him from perishing.  

You nod, reaching out weakly to play with his hair, your muscles cut down by fatigue then completely turned to mush by pleasure. “Yes, I did. I missed you even when I didn’t know who I was missing.” 

He smiles gently at that, letting out a small breath of relief that conveys all his vulnerability before bending down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. “I’m right here. I promise to keep reminding you..” 

You don’t know if he’s promising this to himself or to you, but it leads your mind to troubling questions. 

“Are they going to let us stay together?” You frown, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of those cruel gods he’d spoken of. Now that you have him–now that you know exactly what you’ve been missing, it petrifies you to have him ripped away from you again so soon. If you must be damned to be with him, then let you be with him, damn it!

“For this lifetime, maybe.” He answers hoarsely, uncertainly. “Every time you choose me, we're doomed further. They're just letting us rack up the debt.” 

“Choose? Do I ever have a choice?” Your question is innocent, your mind too scrambled to come up with an intentional attack, yet Beomgyu still perceives it as such. 

“Of course you do. You always do. If you reject me enough times, you condemn me to a hell like no other, to being cut away from you forever.” He answers defensively, needing you to know that you’re not blameless in any of this, and you know you’re not because your heart spasms painfully at the thought of being forever severed from him the same way an artery spasms around itself to keep from bleeding out. “If I force you then it's the same. You have to choose me yourself. That's the only way we can be together.”

A sick feeling of realization hits you. You suddenly get it–why he let himself get beat up by Taehyun. He had to wait for you to choose him. If he had just killed Taehyun and took you away, it would’ve tallied up against him. He had to let you doom yourself. Even if all you’ve done to earn damnation is to hesitate when Taehyun asked you to run away. Even if you did it to save Taehyun, it didn’t matter. You choosing him will always be your sin.

He's right. These gods really are wicked and unjust.  

“Do I choose you every time?” You ask in a small, shaky voice and he frowns, your question prompting what must be disturbing memories to spring to his mind. “Not always but most of the time.”

“What happens when I don't? Do you let me?” You hold your breath, anticipating his response. Does he let you be? Does he force you? Does he hurt you? Is every time you choose him similar to this time and your first life? Could you be pardoned by pleading that you’ve been forced into it or is the sheer amount of times you chose him enough to prove your wickedness beyond a shadow of doubt?

“Why are you asking about that now? You chose me in this lifetime. The rest doesn’t matter.” He brushes you off, goosebumps prickling your skin at his diversion. In his nonanswer lies the truth. No, he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t accept defeat. He never did and never will. 

“Doesn’t that bother you, what they’re doing to us? Forcing us into this cycle over and over again?” You push tentatively. “Don't you want to be free?” 

If you stop choosing each other, will you break this infernal cycle? 

“From you? Never.” He tells you with all the certainty and conviction a man can hold, forehead pressed against yours, your breaths intermingling as if your souls are greeting each other. “Darling, if they give me the choice between heaven and you, I would choose you every time. My existence is meaningless without you, salvation is nothing to me if I can't be with you. I would go through this hell again and again just to spend these precious few moments with you. Let me suffer alone for lifetimes if it means I get even one day like this to feel your love once more.”

Your heart swells, different emotions warring inside of it–eternal love for him, happiness that he is so devoted to you that even death can’t keep you apart, anger that he won’t grant you salvation, hate for everything he’s put you through, horror that you will never escape, soul deep fatigue at the weight of it all–but you can’t even begin to untangle them from each other because he doesn’t let you. This is your reunion and he won’t let it be ruined by your doubts. 

Instead, he flips you over, pushing you onto your tummy and pulling your ass up, the sound of him jerking his drenched cock to hardness the only thing you can hear over the ringing in your ears before you feel it breaching your pussy to fill you up again. He lays himself over you, his hips immediately go to work fucking you, making use of every moment he has stolen with you. 

“Gyu…” You whine, mind too fried to care much about the way you’re drooling over the expensive sheets. “Too fast.” 

“I’m sorry, princess. Just wanna make up for all the lost time. I promise I’ll be gentler later, will take care of you so well.” He babbles, the strain of the pleasure he’s getting from your tight walls evident in his voice. “Promise. Just be good for me tonight. Okay?”

You get it–his desperation, his insatiability. This is one of the only few times in his long, lonely existence when he gets to be with you and have you fully in this way–his princess brought back from the unfathomable and untraversable void of death and lost memories for him. And you can’t find it in you to deprive him of you right now. You’ll think about it later. You’ll worry about what this means for your soul’s eternal damnation tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll let him have you. You’ll let your rotten souls rejoice in the company of their other half. 

“Okay.” You mumble dumbly, letting him take you like a bitch as tears of overstimulation line your lashes and your fingers clutch tightly onto the sheets. You can’t even pretend that it doesn’t feel good, every thrust of his hips, every touch of his hands, every filthy word he says, every load he release inside you–it all shifts and molds you into the wretched lover he’s been searching for, the walls you’ve built up to contain her getting torn down with every position he takes you in until you lay limp with no fight left in you and it’s revealed that there is no one behind those walls. There never was. She was always you. 

When he’s finally has his fill, and you’re more dirty and ruined than you ever were before the bath, he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms–his tight embrace suffocating and hot after what he just put your body through but he doesn’t care. You don’t care. You’re with each other, and that’s how your story always ends and begins. You've been here many times before and you'll be here for many more to come. 

You are at the edge of sleep, almost falling over, when you hear a small sniffle and feel him shake ever so slightly under you. You look up to see his teary eyes and you lift your hand to his face to brush those very costly droplets away. “Why are you crying, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I missed you so much.” He whimpers, his hold on your getting even tighter. “I love you.”

You know. You couldn’t have understood it so fully before but now that you know a fraction of what he went through to get here, you know that his love is not a mere mortal love. It has defied fate itself and it will live on for eons to come. As long as you're on this earth, he'll stay here to find you, and when you leave, he'll follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell or the unfathomable unknown. As long as you're together, his wretched and weary soul can find its peace. 

“I missed you too. And I love you.” 

And I'm sorry it has come to this. I'm sorry I let our once precious love grow so gruesome and hideous that this twisted ending is our only version of happiness. 

_______________________________

A/N: aaaand that's the end of this portion of the story. let me know what you think of this ending. less death than usual lol.

would you rather get tyun's ending (mostly tyun focused) or continue the story from where this chapter leaves off (mostly gyu focused)? Or would you rather a new unrelated story entirely?

Here are some teasers for the two ideas

Tyun's ending:

“Where do we go from here?” You ask defeatedly and he narrows his eyes at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re clearly angry at me. You don't trust me.” 

“Yeah, and?”

You frown too. How can he not see where the problem lies? “How are we going to stay together like this?”

“Are you thinking of leaving again?” Now he starts getting angry, vindictive, the wrath of the warlord in him cutting through the centuries. 

“No–”

“Because I won't let you. All your bullshit excuses are gone. there is no war. You can't pretend you're going back for the greater good.” His voice is mocking on the last part, and you feel your face heat up.

“It was not an excuse!" You sputter. You can't believe he's saying this to you. "It was real!” 

“You’re my wife. That's what's real and you should've stayed loyal.” He tells you unkindly, not interested in your explanations.

“So you want me to stay just out of principle even if you're just going to hate every second of being together?” It would be funny to see the way he has completely not changed even in this new life if it wasn't so painful.

“Maybe. But I certainly won't be made a fool of again and maybe it's high time you experience some consequences for your actions.”

Gyu's ending continuation:

“How could you do this? How could you be so stupid?” Beomgyu's response to you slipping out for the day seems like a wild overreaction. You know he insists on controlling every aspect of your life so you won't leave him again but going out to walk through the surrounding small village for a few hours could hardly have many consequences. Not when he apparently controls the whole village. 

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes at him but that just makes him freak out more. 

“You don't know what you're risking. He could have found you! He could have taken you away from me!” 

“What are you talking about?” You push him off you. “How would he do that when you know exactly where he is at all times?”

You scoff at him but the scared look on his face makes you falter. “You've lost him, didn't you?”

He doesn't answer you, and you watch his face grow paler. “What is he going to do? You’re immortal.” 

“But I am not all powerful, and there are beings out there more wicked than me.” He tells you fearfully, reaching out to hold you once more. 

Unrelated fic idea:

“Fuck, this feels amazing.” He groans and turns to you, “Can I use him every day?” He asks you cheekily and you grin as you hump against Beomgyu harder. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Look at him, he’s soaking my hand with precum.” 

You hear Beomgyu garbled moans around Soobin’s cock and you question him. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Binnie using his big cock right this time?” 

Beomgyu whines again and you laugh at him, but Soobin doesn’t find it so funny, not with his cock getting the full brunt of all of Beomgyu’s vocalizations. “Oh god, I’m close. Can I cum on his face?” 

You grin widely. “Of course, Binnie. I’m sure Gyu wants to help out his hyung any way he can. He’s so needy he’ll let you cover his pretty in cum because he knows that will earn him a reward. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Also you can send and ask for any of the characters and I’ll answer as the character

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

2: RUSTED

Chapter 1 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 3

SUMMARY: You awakened something inside the Winter Soldier that you never considered possible and you can't resist the urge to lend a helping hand.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: SMUT: Hand job — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.

It was five days before he returned from the mission. Karpov was in a foul mood and it showed. His behavior towards the asset was borderline heinous. The sharp sound of Karpov’s backhand across his cheek made you startle and shiver. It was times like this that you hated your empathic nature.

“I told you not to be seen. Not to leave a trail of dead witnesses across the continent!” Karpov screamed. His face was so close to the asset’s that you could see the remnants of spit on his unmasked face.

Your stomach turned as you witnessed Karpov’s assault. Watching the soldier take the hit with grace and dignity, he looked at you, seeking some form of reprieve from the nightmare that his life had become.

“You!” Karpov turned to you, rage distorting his features. It was all you could do to suppress the urge to flinch and cower away. “Clean him up and get him ready for cryo.”

“Yes, sir.” Inwardly you trembled, but outwards you showed no signs of emotion. The harshness of Karpov’s tone rang in your ears, the order to put your asset into cryo, as though he were just a machine. But he was so much more, you knew that deep down. You could only grit your teeth and conceal your rage as you led him to his chamber. “Come.” You barked at the soldier, motioning for him to follow. 

He complied, barely a few steps behind you, tailing like a shadow. That’s what he was, that is what they had made him. A husk of a human. He almost collided with you when you stopped short in the middle of his dedicated room. It was only his hardened reflexes which halted him mere inches from you and avoided your pristine uniform from being coated in the blood of his victims.

You turned to face him, scanning his face for signs of injury. But he mistook your scrutiny for anger. The soldier dropped his gaze, waiting for his punishment. It saddened you to see the way he flinched when you reached out your hand towards his face. It was barely a microexpression, but it told you all you needed to know.

“I just want to check that cut on your head,” you explained gently, your arm freezing mid extension. “May I?”

It took a few moments for Soldat to look up at you. But when he did, he saw something that felt foreign to him.  Compassion. You wondered if his mind even comprehended the notion. You prodded the wound and determined that he probably wouldn’t need any stitches. A few strips across the gash and the serum coursing through his veins would take care of the rest.

“Do you remember how to wash yourself?”

“Da.” (yes)

Your eyes wandered down to his face, stopping at his eyes which were staring intently at you. Their intensity made you feel like he could read your thoughts and see into the depths of your soul. It rendered you speechless. His gaze locked on yours as he attempted to make sense of the compassionate gesture. But his confusion quickly turned into hope, he didn’t want to be alone. Not here, in this hell. You could feel his thoughts reaching out to you, wanting you to stay. His eyes filled with desperation as the drop of blood finally snapped you back to reality.

“Then go.” You gave him an encouraging smile.

“Vy budete” (Will you) … will you come?”

Caught off guard by his unexpected question, your eyebrows instinctively rose in surprise. Yet, despite your astonishment, you couldn't suppress a smile. The gentle cadence of his voice disarmed you, his words softening your resolve. “I think you will do just fine on your own, Soldat.”

He shuffled away from you, unbuckling his harness and leaving a trail of bloody clothes on across the floor. You thought about scolding him for his actions, but he was far from a child and had never been given any reason to show someone respect. His behavior was learned. You donned a pair of latex gloves and retrieved the sullied items before cleaning the floor and setting up a station to deal with his wounds. Just as you dropped a box of sanitizing wipes on the table, your soldier made an appearance.

It was the sound of his bare footsteps on the tiled floor that alerted you to his presence. You turned to find a dripping supersoldier standing a couple of meters away from you, with a tiny white towel wrapped around his slender waist. You lost your breath in your body as your gaze traveled up his wet body. The muscles rippled and bounced as he walked closer to you. Every part of him dripped with water, the scent of his skin so arousing. You could do nothing but watch in awe as he stood in all of his masculine glory. It took you a few moments to tear your gaze away from the water droplets trickling down his Adonis like chest.

You cleared your throat and took a breath to focus your thoughts on your task. “Sit here.” You pointed at the medical couch beside you.

He complied, wordlessly.

“You know you're supposed to use that thing to dry the water on your body, right?” You grinned at him.

If he understood humor, he didn't show it. You picked up another towel, handing it to him and he began to dry himself off, his movements precise and efficient. You couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled under his skin as he moved. 

As you began to examine him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the technology that had created him. He was the perfect soldier, designed for one purpose only - to fight and win. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw something more. There was a flicker of humanity there, a spark of something that made you wonder if he was more than just a machine.

You worked in silence, cleaning his wounds, checking his vitals and running tests to make sure he was healthy and functioning properly. He sat still, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance, his mind a mystery to you. Finally, you finished your examination and stepped back, satisfied that he was in good health.

“You're all set,” you said, smiling at him. You removed your gloves and disposed of them.

He stood up, the towel falling to the floor as he moved and it was only now that you noticed his erection. You tried to look away from the way it glistened with water, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each movement.

You should have been disgusted, revolted at being objectified by a creature that your organization treated as less than human, but instead your chest swelled with a warmth, the pride, the joy of being desired. You had studied his past since your first encounter with the soldat and there had been no documentation of behavior like this, and there were detailed records of his physiology and responses to different stimuli.

This was the first. You were the first. An excitement stirred within you, the thought of being able to report something new to your superiors. You needed more data, you needed evidence. But as you looked into your soldier's eyes, the idea fizzled out like a match reaching the end of its short life. This was clearly such a personal moment for him.

What had HYDRA done to you? That even for a moment you had considered reporting a man's most intimate desires for the study and amusement of cold and hardened scientists. For them to use as another method of subjugation and control. No, you had been assigned to the care of your asset and you would carry out that task to the best of your ability.

“You know, this isn't really in my job description,” you muttered, suddenly feeling self conscious about your actions.

His eyes focused on you as you spoke, studying the details of your face. There was almost a pleading nature in his eyes, begging for you to touch him. For what felt like the longest time, you looked into his blue eyes, seeking his meaning, looking for permission for something you considered unprofessional. Yet the urge to reach out and wrap your hand around his swollen cock was strong, almost undeniable.

“May I?” you whispered.

He grunted with an accompanying nod, which you took as consent. There was something about him that made all the dirty fantasies in your head seem… acceptable. He was the forbidden fruit , the soldier that no one wanted to take responsibility for. And you felt like the only one he trusted. The first time you touched him, really touched him, you were shocked by the warmth that radiated from him. His shaft felt like it was on fire, as you wrapped your fingers around the groves and ridges. He came to life at your touch, growing more needy and more powerful as you slid your palm along his length.

He was thick, you could just about wrap your dainty fingers along his girth and you wondered if you could open your jaw wide enough to accommodate him. A gentle moan snapped you out of your fantasy, burning with embarrassment by your own thoughts. Your cheeks flushed a rosy red at the way he stared at you, like he knew the filthy thoughts that occupied your mind.

Your thumb swiped over his tip, collecting silvery precum which already dripped over his head. Slowly you spread it across the most sensitive parts, watching the way your charge responded to each touch. There was a bottle of lubricant on the table, one that was reserved for examinations; it would do. There was a box of gloves beside it which you ignored, eager to feel everything Soldat had to offer. You squirted a healthy dose of lube into your palm, gasping as the cool jelly spread across your palm.

Gently, you made a fist around him again. The cool contact elicited the desired reaction, your soldier’s body jolted as you coated his dick, rubbing it across his now fully erect length. You knew just how much pressure to apply, not too hard and not too soft. Firm with your strokes, your fingers slowly slid along the smooth and delicate skin, your thumb occasionally sweeping up beads of precum that insisted on leaking from the cock head.

Your arm started to ache, the angle at which you were holding him. You took a step closer, your free hand landing on his thigh for balance, surprised by how tense the muscles in his thigh felt. You watched them contracting and loosening as you worked your hand up and down. It was his hand covering yours that made you look up to his face.

“Ty prekrasno vyglyadish', Kotyonok.” (You look beautiful, Kitten)

“In English, please?” 

“Net.” (No)

Had he refused a direct order? But it hadn't been a question. The intonation of your words had left room for interpretation, no tone of command. Even though he refused to speak English, you knew what he meant. The sound of his voice, the way he was staring at you, there was a message of endearment.

“Pozhaluysta, Kotyonok. Nuzhdayus' v tebe.” (Please, Kitten. Need you.) He whimpered.

You felt a rush of excitement at his words, knowing that you had the power to bring him pleasure. With a newfound confidence, you continued to stroke him, feeling his arousal grow under your touch. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken desire hanging heavy in the room. 

As you gazed into his eyes, you knew that this moment would change everything. The sensation for him was intense, you could tell, visibly seeing the shivers which ran down his spine. You knew he could feel the tension building up inside of him, the need for release growing strong with each passing second. The urge to watch his face was strong, hearing him huffing and snarling like a starved savage creature, but you couldn’t take your eyes off his cock in your hands. 

Guilt crept in, but his thoughts remained concealed behind blue eyes. This forbidden act went against everything he had been trained to do, yet in that moment, he didn't care. You made him feel something he hadn't in a long time - alive. All he wanted was to find peace in the chaos of his mind. You were a temporary escape, a fleeting moment of pleasure in a world of pain and suffering, mostly of his own making. So he closed his eyes and let the climax consume him, knowing the battle was far from over.

And as he finally released himself in your hand, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. In that moment, you were no longer bound by professional boundaries or societal expectations. It made you feel something you hadn’t sought for a long time, a connection, a real bond, more than just the throbbing between your thighs. The man inside the Winter Soldier had temporarily woken because of you, but as his eyes opened again, you watched as the light diminished as his orgasm ebbed away and you wondered if you had just imagined what you had seen.

As quickly as it all started, it was over. He went back to being the empty shell that had walked through the door, waiting to be commanded, ready to comply. You removed your cum covered hand from his cock, wondering if you dared to taste him.

“Kotyonok?” (Kitten?)

His voice was barely audible, maybe you imagined the word, but the spell was broken. It was almost like he had been brought back from the depths of darkness back to reality. And even though it broke the spell that had enveloped the both of you, you had seen his desire for you, just for a simple moment where he let himself be vulnerable. The guilt you saw in his eyes at the end had shaken you. It seemed like the soldier had finally come to his senses, returning to his duty and to the man he was made to be.

“Go and get yourself cleaned up,” you ordered, pointing toward the shower. And as you watched him walk away, his bare footsteps echoing in the tiled room, you couldn't help but hope that he would find his humanity, that he would find a way to be more than just a weapon of war.

Chapter 1 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 3

[screamingcrows]

Notes: Anaxagoras drabble pre-release because I simply can't resist a blasphemous scholar. Steal this and you're getting every airborne pathogen I know. Tags: Anaxagoras x reader, implied friends to .... well, sfw, 800 words Minors DNI

The forces governing all phenomena must operate based on universal fact. An all-encompassing set of 'laws' when explained through our language. But how do we even begin to comprehend what we cannot perceive, and by what means do we discover the blind spots?

Anaxagoras had always been fascinated by that which he could not explain, a trait coveted by adults when you were both children. The pace with which his knowledge expanded had been nearly frightening, swallowing it up as though a vortex existed in his midst.

"Truth," he continued, one hand covering an eye as he peered into the starlit night, "is what we make of it, what each of us can perceive and prophecy the bridge between what we know and what we see."

A soft hum left your lips, merely signaling that your attention was still on him. The two of you had been friends for far longer than a decade, so used to the ideas spurred on by his now scorned curiosity that nothing he said could rattle you. Not even the idea of prophecies being lies.

"But there must be something, somewhere, that perceives all, possibly even orchestrating it."

Your hand left the cold rock that you were both resting atop, reaching towards the stars alongside his. Blots of ink and faint red lines from where paper had cut his skin stained the delicate hands that had wiped countless tears from your cheeks.

His monologue halted for a moment when your fingers laced with his, guiding his hand back down to place a kiss in his palm. The content sigh he let out made you smile, knowing you'd once more halted his detachment from the ground. If not for the fragility of the physical body, surely his spirit would've long since taken a seat among the stars.

"I propose the existence of a 'mind' governing and ordering everything. If all is made from the same base components, it must be given shape to create all that we see," his voice had softened to an almost melancholic tone, "I will not pretend to know the laws that govern all, but this must be part of the truth as I view it. I've termed it 'Nous', the cosmic mind ordering homogenous chaos into this-"

A white flower was placed in your hand, the rarity of the gesture translating to something foreboding as you completed his sentence, "orderly chaos, but chaos nonetheless."

Worse still was the feeling when he moved your hand to rest atop his heartbeat. "I'm almost led to believe you pay attention to my words." Even with the lightness of his words, nothing in their meaning lessened the weight settling on your soul.

Still, it would be cruel to let it show, instead responding in a way he knew, nudging his shoulder gently. "I always do."

Satisfied, Anaxagoras saw fit to continue, "This Nous, of course, implies the existence of not only life beyond what we know, but also of forces mightier than our Titans."

"Have you heard what they're calling you?"

He turned his head, bright eyes piercing both the darkness and your heart, "A fool? I-"

"Some of them take it further than that, calling you a blasphemer," truly, you had no desire to oppose the man beside you, the regret no doubt seeping into your words, "maybe exercising some restraint in public would do you good?"

It was unreasonable for him to cup your cheek at a time like this, your throat tightening in anticipation of the gentle press of lips against your own.

"Only those with something to hide are angered by questions," his words were almost lost to the ringing in your ears, "the truth I've suggested challenges the validity of their prophesies, should it not then be their honor to disprove me instead of lashing out like cornered beasts?"

You let him guide you closer by the back of your neck, foreheads touching when the words you'd been dreaded were spoken into existence. "I'm leaving."

"I know," your voice trembled far more than you would've liked, his attempts at gently rubbing your skin all but soothing this time. You'd always known this day would come, his bearing in itself enough to know that his path would be a lonely one.

"I'll present my ideas at the Grove of Epiphany, blind faith in the Chrysos Heirs and a prophecy alone cannot be the only way forward. I will force their eyes closed if I must to let them glimpse reality beyond what they see."

You inhaled his scent, fresh and crisp like a cold morning in the sun, determined to commit it to memory, so engrossed that you barely heard the whispered apology and a confession better lost to the breeze.

[starbright349]

Hii I commented on your Adam fic (the 'you didn't know?' one) and I'd like to request that maybe y/m sneaks into hell (???) Instead of going home to Adam To talk to Charlie and meets Lucifer..as much as I love Adam I'm also a complete Lucifer girl...so I want sparks to be flying when y/n meets him.

The rest is up to you! Thank you so much in advance 🤍

Omg! I would love to! This is also the first time some has done this, and I'm so excited. And I hope you like it.

Determined to find an alternative solution to the issue of overpopulated Hell and the grim fate of souls, (Y/N) decided to sneak into the depths of Hell to seek out Charlie. She had a cloak that helped her not be noticed by other demons as she flew high, she knew that Adam was going to come to her Hazbin Hotel first during the extermination, and (Y/N) believed that this might be the key to bringing balance without resorting to Adam's extreme methods.

Navigating through the fiery landscapes, (Y/N) finally reached the entrance of the Hazbin Hotel. She pulled off her cloak as she entered, she was greeted by a Charlie. The bright and optimistic demon noticed the angelic presence and approached (Y/N).

"(Y/N)! What are you doing here? How did you get here?" Charlie inquired; her tone surprisingly friendly but filled with concern for a denizen of the underworld.

"My husband is crazy, Charlie. I haven't come home in days, and I fear that he's keeping more secrets from me. I want to help you and your cause."

(Y/N) explained, her celestial aura contrasting with the dark surroundings.

Charlie listened attentively; her interest piqued by the prospect of collaboration. As they delved into the conversation, the ruler of Hell himself, Lucifer, made his grand entrance. Dressed in impeccable attire, he exuded charm and confidence. He noticed (Y/N) talking to his daughter and couldn't help but smirk at how beautiful she was. Her face had the perfect shape, and her body was Curvey.

"My, my, what a heavenly sight in the depths of Hell," Lucifer greeted with a suave smile, his silver-tongued words laced with undeniable charisma.

Taken aback by the unexpected encounter, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a twinge of charm from Lucifer's flirting. However, she smiled and maintained her composure, reminding herself of her commitment to Adam.

"My oh my. You must be Lucifer, my name is (Y/N), it's a pleasure finally meet you. But I am here to discuss a serious matter," (Y/N) replied, her tone firm yet laced with a hint of amusement.

Lucifer kept flirting more and more with (Y/N), despite her admitting that she was married to Adam. But that only strengthened his lust and desire for her.

Lucifer could only imagine the sounds she would make when he was railing her into a mattress, how her body would bounce with each movement he made, and the look in her eyes whenever he would make her his.

As the discussion with Charlie about the rehabilitation efforts continued, Lucifer persisted in his playful flirtation with (Y/N), undeterred by her admission of marriage to Adam. The fiery atmosphere of Hell seemed to intensify with Lucifer's smirks and smooth words.

"(Y/N), my dear, marriage is just a celestial concept. Here in Hell, we don't play by those heavenly rules," Lucifer remarked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

(Y/N) chuckled nervously, maintaining her distance. "Lucifer, I appreciate the banter, but I am committed to my husband, Adam. And speaking of him. We need to focus on finding a way to make sure this Hotel is protected." Charlie nodded her head.

Lucifer leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ah, commitment, a rare trait in the celestial realm. But my dear, consider the possibilities that Hell can offer."

(Y/N) sighed, trying to redirect the conversation. "Lucifer, please. This is serious. We can't let Hell overflow with lost souls. Charlie's hotel could be a step towards a better solution."

Undeterred, Lucifer continued his flirtatious banter. "Serious conversations can wait, my sweet angel. In the meantime, let me show you the wonders Hell has to offer."

Feeling the weight of Lucifer's persistent advances, (Y/N) remained steadfast, resisting the allure of Hell's temptations. "Lucifer, I appreciate the offer, but my heart belongs to Adam. Let's focus on the task at hand."

Lucifer chuckled, acknowledging her loyalty with a playful wink. "Very well, my dear. But remember, Hell is full of surprises."

As they continued the discussion with Charlie, the undercurrent of flirtation and tension lingered, creating an unexpected dynamic in the heart of Hell. (Y/N) navigated the complexities of the situation, determined to stay true to her commitment while working towards a solution that would bring balance to the celestial realms.

As (Y/N) prepared to leave Hell and return to the celestial realm of Heaven, Lucifer intercepted her path, his charismatic grin widening. In a bold move, he attempted to close the distance between them, aiming for a kiss that mirrored the fiery atmosphere around them.

However, (Y/N), fueled by a growing frustration with Lucifer's advances, swiftly pushed him back. The intensity of her celestial aura flared as she spoke firmly, "Lucifer, enough! I will not tolerate this behavior. I am married to Adam, and I will never betray him."

Lucifer, seemingly unfazed, flashed a charismatic grin. "My dear, you underestimate the allure of Hell and the pleasures it holds."

(Y/N) sighed, her patience wearing thin. "Lucifer, I'm not interested. I am committed to my husband. He may have his flaws, but he is smart, handsome, brave, kind (when he wants to be), funny, and a total romantic." As she spoke, her gaze shifted to her ring finger, where the symbol of her union with Adam glistened.

"He's everything I need, and I won't let anyone jeopardize that," (Y/N) declared, her voice filled with determination.

Lucifer, recognizing the unwavering conviction in her words, finally took a step back. "Hm... Well, I can respect your loyalty (Y/N), but remember, if you ever want to have a good time and the best night of your immortal life, you know where I am."

With a final glance that held a mix of frustration and lingering charm, (Y/N) snaped her fingers, summing a portal to Heaven, as she walked through it and the portal closed. Lucifer was left to ponder the complexity of celestial bonds and the strength of true love. As she soared back towards Heaven, the fiery landscape of Hell faded into the distance, and (Y/N) carried with her the resolve to face the challenges that awaited her and Adam in the celestial realms.

[captain-tch]

Closet (Daryl Dixon x PlatonicFem!Reader)

You had been hiding a part of yourself for years, it only took the world to end to finally speak your truth.

You stood on Aaron and Eric's porch, bracing yourself against the railing. They had prepared dinner for yourself and Daryl, as payment for bringing some spices back from a supply run. It was a lovely gesture, and it made you hate yourself even more when you couldn't stand to be in their company for too long. It was the hand holding, the loving gazes, the inside jokes. It was the way they shared gentle touches, so openly and so in love. It was the kisses and the laughs and the smiles.

It was hard to recognise the nasty feeling festering in your gut. It turned your gaze green and made yourself bitter.

You were jealous.

You shook your head, leaning back, trying to let the night wind wipe your sadness away. You wanted to push past this feeling - Aaron and Eric were lovely people, good people, yet you felt yourself turning sour the longer you spent in their company.

The door clicked softly behind you. You jerked, frantically wiping a hand at your cheeks. You turned, expecting to see Aaron or Eric wondering why you hadn't come back in after twenty minutes, but it was Daryl. You smiled weakly, secretly grateful that you didn't have to endure being in the presence of the lovebirds. Even on their own they managed to ooze cupid's scent.

"Hey." Daryl stood beside you, turning to look up at the night sky. The stars twinkled back. "Beautiful night."

You nodded in agreement, attempting to muster the energy to talk, to explain your disappearance.

"Food was good."

You nodded again.

Daryl sighed, playing with his fingers, tugging softly at the cuticles. "Look, ya know I'm no good at this small talk shit. I think we've been friends long enough to skip that crap, and you've been acting like this ever since we got here. Distant."

You bit your lower lip, taking comfort in gnawing at the skin. Your heart wanted to spill it all, to let loose your truth, but your fear kept you trapped.

"Did Aaron or Eric do somethin' to ya?"

You were that shocked at the thought you snapped your head to his. "No. They've been nothing but kind."

"Then what the hell is it?"

"I -" You averted your gaze, keeping your eyes glued firmly to the wood of the porch. "I can't tell you." You muttered, hating how water splashed on your cheeks. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Daryl reached forward, softly grabbing you under the chin, turning you to face him. You tried to muster a smile, though it did nothing to hide the tears freely pouring down. "You're cryin'."

Your hand moved to your cheek absentmindedly, aggressively wiping the wet away. Defeated, you pulled yourself away from Daryl, slumping to the floor feeling as if the world was trying to pull you down.

A beat of silence passed, then two. You wanted to speak; the ball in your throat choked the words. "Whatever it is, ya can tell me."

You pulled your chin into your knees, shoulders sagging. Your chest felt tight, the possibility of letting the truth pass your lips stealing your breath. But then you spotted Daryl at the edge of your vision, his brows creased in concern. He was your closest friend, your greatest confidant. You had told him about your night terrors, and he slept beside you, a moment away, to protect you from the monsters haunting the land of dreams. You leaned on him when you had killed in self defence. You relied on him to watch your back on runs, and he hadn't failed you yet.

He hadn't outright spoken to you of his past; he had let his lips loosen more around you than anyone else. He showed you the cigarette burns - never his back. You never dared to ask, knowing that was one private terror he would spill in his own time.

This man would never judge you. He would never press for more if you weren't ready, and he definitely would never leave your side. He was your platonic soul mate.

You released a heavy breath, scooting along to make room for him. Your voice was as quiet as a mouse - as a hunter you knew he heard. "I've never told anyone."

Daryl was quiet, accepting your invitation and settling in beside you. He didn't move to comfort you; he sat close enough to know he was there.

You clenched your fingers into your palm, the pain of the nails biting into the skin distracting you for the self destructive thoughts whizzing around in your head. "I'm jealous of them."

"Why?"

He's going to walk away, your brain whispered. He's going to leave you and you will be all alone surrounded by people. He's going to sneer at you and ignore your existence.

A large, calloused hand pried your fingers out of their fists. The skin of your palms cried in relief, sharp indents speckled with blood released into the air. You looked up at Daryl, and at his hand.

You screamed at the voices in your mind, uttering the words you never spoke aloud. "Because they're living their truth, they're not afraid."

Daryl stared at your crumpled form, it taking a moment to sink in. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water - no one had ever told him this kind of thing before, he had no idea how to respond. Turns out Daryl didn't need to worry, because the moment you started talking you unlocked the door you had kept barred shut for years.

"I've known ever since I was a teenager, kept it as quiet as I could. I dated, but it never went past the first date. I couldn't... be myself, and I think it's because I couldn't accept myself, and I think my dates could sense that too." You laughed darkly. "You know how if you were applying for a job, you had to state your sexual orientation? I always put "prefer not to say" as I was afraid to admit to the world that I'm a lesbian." You looked at Daryl, trying to sense any shift in him. He hadn't started cursing you out or walked away. The doubting voices in your head quietened.

You sniffled. "I'm envious of their confidence. Their openness. Is that stupid?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, it's not."

"You know what the stupidest thing of all is?" You shook your head, "It's taken until the end of the world to admit out loud that I am a lesbian."

Daryl wrapped his arm around you, bringing you close. "Proud of ya."

You relished his warmth, the warmth of your best friends embrace eradicating those voices for good. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you could tell him about a part of your life you had kept hidden for so long.

"Thanks."

Daryl squeezed the hug tighter around you. "Feel better?"

"Bit."

"Well, come on. Dessert is waiting." Daryl got to his feet, putting his hand out to you.

You gulped, looking at the hand, then him. "You don't think any different of me, do you?"

"Hell nah, you're still a dumbass in my eyes."

You snorted.

"And hey, I can be your wing man."

"I'd love to see that Daryl."

As you walked back into the warmth of Aaron and Eric's home, you felt a peace settle inside you. The conversation didn't solve your insecurity and anxiety, but you felt better having admitted your truth out loud to your best friend.

You were on a long journey to accept yourself, whilst dealing with the trials and tribulations an apocalypse could bring, but in that moment, you were happy.

In your mind you repeated I am a lesbian, a smile forming on your lips.

the walking dead masterlist

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 7

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 2734

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Recap:

Now that your ex has retrieved his belongings, you're on a tight deadline to get everything packed by the end of the day. You have to move out tonight, especially since you're starting at a new school tomorrow. Plus, moving everything out today will make it much easier to settle into your new room before school starts. And, it's a good way to pass the time until 6:40 PM tonight, when you plan to head to the park.... Tonight will be the moment of truth to see if he decides to show up. You're overwhelmed with the need to apologize for your silence all week and for turning down his invitations to hang out. And then there's the mess with your ex, which just adds to the chaos. You really want to explain to him that your ex was only there to pick up his stuff before you move, but it's hard to make him understand when you hadn't even mentioned your plans to move to begin with.

It just feels like everything is just spiralling out of control…

MEGUMIS POV:

The phone sits there, taunting me with its silent demand for attention. My fingers itch to reach for it, to answer her call, but I know I can't. It's a battle of wills, and I'm fighting against myself. If I give in, I'll only end up forgiving her too easily, forgetting all about her with her ex.

 But it's so damn hard. 

She's always on my mind, her smile a reminder of genuine warmth that lingers in my thoughts. Her eyes, deep and honest, draw me in with every glance, revealing layers of her soul I can't resist. And her scent... her perfume, it's like a gentle embrace, comforting and alluring, even when she's not around. Every moment with her is like poetry in motion, each touch, each word, sparking a fire of longing within me. She's more than just a person; she's a feeling, an intoxicating presence that I can't shake.

She's a masterpiece in every sense, utterly captivating and impossible to overlook. Despite the simmering anger within me, my deepest longing is to have her close, to revel in the comfort of her embrace. Yet, I restrain myself. I can't muster the strength to answer the phone, to engage with her messages. Not now. At Least not yet….

I glance over at my phone and catch her last message: meet her at the park at 7.

Damn, she makes it so hard to resist.

 7 PM…..

The park across from my place. She'll explain what happened. Maybe it wasn't as serious as it seemed... Maybe he just showed up? Knocking at her door, threatening her. Damn it. If that's the case, what the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so blind? What if he intended to harm her, and I just walked away, leaving her alone? Is she okay? The amount of messages she sent suggests she is, but still... How could I be so reckless? What if she got hurt? I would never forgive myself. Never.

Fuck!

I have to go…. I have to make sure she's okay, to reassure myself that my fears are unfounded. And if she needs me, I'll be there, no matter what.

I glance at the time: 6:55 PM.

God damn it... 

I won't make it back in time, at least not for another 10 minutes or so. With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, I gather my thoughts and hit the gas, pushing the limits to get home as quickly as possible, determined to find her and ensure her safety, no matter the cost.

I'll just call her and let her know I'm on my way and that I'll be a little late. As I pick up my phone and dial her number, it goes straight to voicemail twice. Is she ignoring me? No, she wouldn't... Why would she? Maybe her phone's dead? Or maybe she turned it off? I have to get to her as fast as I can.

But as I arrive, the park is deserted, and she's nowhere to be seen. Dread washes over me, realizing I'm 15 minutes late. Did she give up on me? Did she think I wouldn't come? Panic sets in as I frantically search, hoping against hope that she's still here, waiting for me…

But she's not. She's gone. And the weight of that realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

I pick up my phone again, desperate, and dial her number once more. But it goes straight to voicemail again.

"Please, angel... pick up," I whisper into the void, my voice strained with worry.

But there's no answer. Just silence. And in that silence, my fears grow stronger, gnawing at my heart with a relentless grip.

YOUR POV

You arrived at the park five minutes early, hoping against hope that Megumi would show up on time.

6:55 PM.

Anxiety courses through your veins, the uncertainty of his reaction weighing heavily on your mind. Would he even show up? Or would he take your explanation poorly, not believing a word you'd say, and then leave you? Both outcomes are equally terrifying, but you can't shake the feeling that Megumi not showing up might be slightly worse. It would mean he wants nothing to do with you, and you wouldn't even have the chance to explain what actually happened. The guilt would eat away at you.

You've turned your phone off, ensuring that when he arrives, if he does, you won't be interrupted. Your focus would be solely on him.

7:00 PM.

You sit there, waiting, scanning the park for any sign of him. Each person who approaches, you hope it's him, but it never is. With every passing moment, your thoughts spiral further. Was he ever going to show up? Did something happen? Or does he just not want you anymore?

7:10 PM.

You give him an extra ten minutes, clinging to the hope that maybe he's running late. But as the minutes tick by, hope fades into disappointment. He's not coming. He didn't come. What's the point in waiting any longer? Even if he did show up, would you be angry? Upset? Feeling unimportant because of his lateness? Maybe he forgot or didn't see your message? You try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it's hard. Trust is a fragile thing, especially after what you went through with your ex.

You stand from the bench, tears threatening to spill, but you hold them back as best as you can. The emotions swirl within you—sadness, disappointment, frustration. You start to walk away, making your way back home. You've already packed everything after kicking out your ex, so all that's left to do is go back. The movers said they'd be there by 8 PM to gather your things and take them to your new place.

At 9:40 PM, over an hour has passed since you finally moved into your new place. With the help of your friends, unpacking was a breeze, and it felt surprisingly good to be living with them. As you make your way to your room, you're pleasantly surprised to find it larger than expected. Thank goodness for Toge's spacious house, where even the rooms are sizable. And having your own bathroom? That's a luxury you definitely appreciate.

You take a moment to survey the space, considering how to arrange your belongings. With a generous window offering a view of the expansive backyard—complete with lush green grass, towering trees, and a sparkling pool—you decide to position your bed beside it. It's the perfect spot to gaze at your favorite view, especially with the moon casting its gentle glow outside.

Setting up your room with your friends was a joyous experience, making the whole moving process feel more fun and exciting. As you begin to organize, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment and anticipation for the adventures that await in your new home.

You call out to Maki, asking for her help in setting up your gaming equipment in the corner.

"Yep! Is your PC in this box?" she asks, pointing at the one labeled "fragile."

"Yes, ma'am!" you confirm with a smile.

Turning to Toge and Yuta, you assign them the task of mounting your TV on the wall across from your bed.

“Yes ma’am! You got it!” Toge says, in his usual playful manner, as he salutes. 

“You’re so stupid” You say while slapping your forehead. 

Laughter fills the room, easing the tension that's been weighing on you all day. You don't realize how late it's gotten until you finally check the clock: 12:12 AM.

With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you thank your friends for their help. However, beneath the surface, the lingering disappointment of Megumi's absence still weighs heavily on your mind. Though you try to push it aside, your friends can sense that something's bothering you.

"Thank you guys so much for helping me. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time!" you apologize.

"You know you don't have to thank us... We're always going to be here for you!" Maki reassures you.

"I could've been playing Fortnite, so she does have to apologize for taking up my precious time," Toge interjects jokingly, prompting laughter from everyone.

"Sorry, Toge, didn't know Fortnite was more important," you tease back, rolling your eyes.

"Just kidding, obviously you're more important!!!" Toge replies with a smirk, in a sarcastic tone, though what he said is true... you definitely are more important.

"Wow, screw you," you playfully retort, sticking out your tongue and your middle finger as you all continue to laugh.

"How are you feeling now that you're officially moved out?" Yuta sweetly asks.

"Honestly, I feel happy and comfortable. I love being with you guys, and now that we all live together, it's going to be so fun. And I'm going to the same school as you all! Speaking of which, we should probably head to sleep... It's almost 12:30, and we have to wake up at 7 AM," you say, a hint of tiredness creeping into your tone.

"That's good, and we're happy you're with us too! Goodnight, Y/N," Yuta replies with a smile before hugging you and then heading towards the door.

"Finally, I can play Fortnite," Toge jokes before noticing you picking up a pillow.

"Y/N! I was kidding! I WAS KIDDING!" Toge exclaims, darting out of your room as you chase after him, pillow in hand.

The chase leads you both around the house. As you enter the kitchen, Toge quickly runs on one side of the counter, putting distance between you. Determined to catch him, you move to your left, but he mirrors your movements, keeping just out of reach.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Toge grins and taunts you from across the counter, knowing he's outmanoeuvred you for now. But you're not one to give up easily, and with a playful smirk, you prepare to outsmart him in this game. 

“Y/N IM SORRY! I SAID I WAS KIDDING PLEASE SPARE MY LIFE!!!! I BEGGGG” he yells out. 

“NOT UNTIL YOU APOLOGIZED AND SAY IM YOUR BEST FRIEND AND YOU LOVE ME.” you yell back teasing him. 

“NO NEVER!” he runs past you and you chase him back up the stairs but you corner him before he could get to his room.

“IM SO SORRY QUEEN Y/N MY BESTEST OF BEST FRIEND I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!” he says in fear. 

“Love you too bestie!! goodnight!” You smile innocently and make your way to your room.

“she's fucking crazy....” he mumbled to himself as he gets back up.

“mmm? what was that?” you say turning back towards him. 

“Uhh... N-NOTHING!!! HAHA… NOTHING AT ALL” With a nervous chuckle, Toge swiftly opens the door to his room, slipping inside and securing the lock behind him.

Maki, witnessing the entire exchange, approaches you with a smile to say goodnight. But before she leaves, she asks about Megumi.

Your surprise is evident, but you can't bring yourself to lie to your best friend. 

"It's... kinda bad right now. We're not really talking," you admit.

"What? What the hell happened?" Maki responds, shocked.

"He saw my ex at my house today. He was only there to grab his stuff, but then Megumi showed up around the same time, and my ex lied to him... I didn't know he was there until it was too late," you explain with a sigh.

"Why didn't you just call him and explain?" Maki inquires.

"I tried, but he didn't answer at all. I even texted him to meet me at the park across from his house at 7 PM to explain everything, and if he didn't show up, I'd just assume he didn't want to be friends anymore or have any type of relationship."

"And...?" Maki prompts, sensing your hesitation.

"He didn't show up," you admit, feeling your heart drop.

"What the hell? Why wouldn't he show up? That guy is literally obsessed with you," Maki says, clearly bewildered.

"Stop..." you respond, feeling annoyed.

"Stop what?" Maki asks, confused.

"Stop saying shit that isn't true, you really don't need to lie about that." you say, your frustration bubbling up.

"What do you mean?! I've known Megumi since he was a kid, y/n.. He's never been like this, not once with a girl before. Every girl that's ever tried talking to him, he wouldn't even notice or care to at least. He puts no effort in at all. Why do you think when we saw him with you on the couch together, we were extremely shocked. He barely gets near a girl, so the fact that he let you lean on him AND hold your hand shows that he likes you. Like, a lot," Maki explains, her words hitting you hard.

"We're just friends... that's all. And it's normal," you respond weakly, trying to dismiss her observations.

"Maybe normal for you, but definitely not for Megumi. He barely talks to girls, let alone looks in their direction. Seriously, Y/N, you'd have to be blind or stupid to not see that he obviously has feelings for you," Maki concludes, her annoyance evident.

You fall silent, feeling conflicted by her words as she leaves you to ponder the truth of her observations.

"Goodnight, Maki," you respond, your tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. Despite her insistence, you can't shake the feeling that what she's telling you isn't entirely true, convinced that Megumi sees you only as a friend.

"Y/N—" Maki starts, but you cut her off, retreating back into your room and heading straight for bed. Without wasting a moment, Maki quickly pulls out her phone and sends a message to Nobara.

7AM

As your alarm blares, announcing the start of your first day at a new school, a rush of nerves and excitement courses through you. But, having your friends by your side brings a warm sense of familiarity that soothes the uncertainties of the day ahead.

Last night was rough. You couldn't sleep good as thoughts of Megumi consumed your mind, denying you any peace. Despite knowing it's time to move forward, his memory persists, a constant companion in your thoughts. It's tough to shake off the memory of someone who felt so right, even when things didn't quite align.

The second alarm that goes off snaps you out of your thoughts, prompting you to get moving. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Arriving at the school, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety as you head to the office to pick up your schedule. Despite the last-minute transfer, you're relieved that they've welcomed you, easing some of the nerves about starting anew.

You rush up the stairs of the school, the realization that you're running late sets in. Panic starts to rise as you frantically search for your classroom, the maze-like layout of the school making it difficult to navigate.

"Where the hell is this stupid class?" you mutter under your breath, frustration mounting with each passing second.

With your mind solely focused on finding your class, you fail to notice the person standing directly in your path. Before you can react, you run right into them, the impact jolting you back to reality.

Stumbling backward, he reaches out to steady you, his hands gently settling on your waist, you look up to apologize, only to freeze in shock as you lock eyes with the person before you.

"Megumi?" you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise as you take in his familiar features and all-black attire.

His expression remains impassive at first, but as his gaze meets yours, recognition flashes in his eyes.

"Y/n…?"

omg omg omg omg omg

finally finished this part... took longer than expected... sorry for the long wait

i rly appreciate ur guys patience <3

this part was kindaaa boring but i promise next one will get more interesting teehee

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

[itzprismosblog]

I got bored so I wrote chapter 120 but in Teru's pov. I tried to make it as accurate as possible.

Teru could feel goosebumps going up his arms. He had a bad feeling that he couldn't explain but it felt like every bone in his body was telling him somthing was wrong. His stomach having some type of sickening feeling as if he had just lost somthing important to him. But what exactly?

Teru turned to Akane "Its difficult to put into words. But ever since we came to this house...I've had a very bad feeling." Akane raised an eyebrow. "A bad feeling? I mean everybody says the house is cursed. It's not exactly a walk in the park." Teru glanced down at the diryy floorboards "right.."

Their conversation was interrupted by Aoi. "Akane kun, Teru-kun. Come look at this." Teru and Akane both turned to look at her holding somthing in her hand. "Is somthing wrong?" Akane asked. Aoi walks near them and shows a small hair clip that belonged to Yashiro in her hand. "I found this on the floor...it's Nene-chans." She points twords a dark looming door underneath the staircase. "It was in front of that door." Akane stares at the door confused. "Was that door always there?"

Akane looks over at Teru. "What do you think? Should we go through the door prez?" Teru stares at the door. He can feel his heart pound in his chest. That bad feeling sinking so deep into his chest that it feels like it's reaching his lungs making it more difficult to breathe. He nods. "It might lead us to where Yashiro-San is." Aoi reaches for the doorknob. "Then we should go. We should find Nene-chan as soon as possible."

Aoi then cautiously and slowly opens the door, making the door make a loud screech noise as the bottom of the door rubs against the floorboards. All 3 of them look to see what's behind the door and see a staircase leading downwards. They all glance at eachother before Teru takes the first step onto the staircase then Akane then Aoi.

As they walk down the stairs they can hear the whispers and creaks of each step as if the house was speaking to them. Teru can't help but grip onto the handle of his sword, prepareing for anything. As they all walk down the stairs they hear yelling. Yelling that sounded like Yashiro's. They all waist no time on running down the stairs not even worrying about tripping.

Teru could hear Yashiro's hectic muffled screams "Kou-kun! What are you doing?! No let go of me!"

Teru ran to the bottom of the stairs feeling his heart drop as he saw Kou pulling Yashiro twords a well. That wasn't Kou. There was just no way. Teru had to react quick his mind immediately jumping to what he was taught to do. He grabbed his sword and lunged twords Kou, yelling out of pure terror "Kou!" He slashed his sword right through Kou's hand and halfway through his face.

Kou bkinked and it was as if his soul has returned to his eyes. Kou then looked down at his hand disappearing. "My brother's lightning..." He said in a shocked tone. Kou's eyes began to water he looked over at Yashiro and spoke in a relived tone. "...Oh good. I'm glad your okay Senpai." Teru felt sick to his stomach, his body freezing. Kou smiled as tears streamed down his face. His body slowly deacying. "Don't worry! This is just like a bad dream! We'll see eachother again back in the old world!" Kou grinned widely as he mutterd his last words. "I gotta go. I can't leave him all alone." A gust of wind then blew away the remainings of Kou.

Yashiro began to breathe heavily, her hands clutching onto her dress. "Kou-kun..." she said in a state of shock. She began to slowly walk over to the well before Teru pushed her out of the way. He didn't care of she fell or even got hurt. He needed to know if his brother was truly dead.

Teru looked down the well. He could see his younger brother's corpse lying in the bottom of the well holding onto his best friend. Both of their eyes lifeless. Teru stared at the scene in horror. That bad feeling had come true. He had lost his brother. He could feel his heart ache. He had just exorcized his own brother and had watched him disappear. His brother isn't just dead but gone in spirt too. He could only bring himself to say his brother's name. "Kou..."

[catsafarithewriter]

A/N: Part 37 of the Bedlam AU! This part is a longer piece, but there was no tidy place to split it, so you get all of this! Enjoy! I certainly enjoyed writing it ;)

x

Haru is not afraid of the dark.

After all, she's been on enough cases where the odd dungeon delving, or cave diving, or secret passage walkthrough with non-existent light has been necessary, so she's familiar with dark. But the thing is, absolute darkness is rare. Usually there's a lantern, or starlight, or even bioluminescent algae to shed some light, and that's not even considering Baron's light magic. Usually, even if she can't see much, there's still a vague sense of her surroundings.

Behind the blindfold, it's nothing but black.

Haru is not afraid of the dark, but her heart skitters nonetheless. There is something about the complete nothingness, something about the spidersilk on her skin, something about the stillness of the air, that feels all wrong.

Then again, simply knowing that on the other side of the blindfold is a soul-sucking monster might also do that to a gal.

"Haru?"

"Haru, what's happening?"

The voices are indistinguishable from one another, perfect copies of Baron's voice. It sounds like both are stood before her, one to the left, the other to the right.

"It's one of the Bedlam's games," she says. "One of you is the real Baron, and the other is the Bedlam in disguise. I need to guess which one is real."

"I am!" one Baron cries.

"Naturally, you would say that," the other retorts.

"Yes. Because it is the natural thing to say. At least, it is if you're real."

"Or if you're pretending to be."

"Enough!"

At Haru's command, both Barons went silent.

"This isn't a puzzle that's gonna be solved by who can shout the loudest, or insist they're a real boy the most often. From now on, you only speak when I ask you something, got it?"

"Yes, Haru."

"Yes."

"Okay, good."

Haru's mind races over the options. There is always a possibility that neither is the real Baron... but somehow she doubts it. It's not that she doesn't think the Bedlam is above cheating, but rather that everything she's encountered so far implies that weaving a new Baron puppet would take time, and she's somewhat sprung this upon him.

So that leaves... well, one Bedlam masquerading as Baron, and one real Baron. Still, there are ways the Bedlam could cheat.

"Both of you, hold out your hand," she orders. "One on my left, the other on my right."

She feels cotton brush against her fingers, and she curls her hand around each gloved wrist. "This way there can be no secret switcharoos happening while I'm blindfolded," she says.

"Clever," the right Baron approves.

"What did I say? No talking unless I ask you something."

Haru wants to pace, but there's no way of doing that without trawling both Baron's behind her like two wayward children. If she could see them, this would be easy – the Bedlam seems unable to create puppets or alter himself without button eyes – but then that explains the blindfold. That said...

She runs her hands up the respective Barons arms If the Bedlam is limited by button eyes, she'll be able to feel them by brushing a hand across his face. Her hands have only reached their shoulders when both vanish.

"Hey!"

"Now, now, now," the Bedlam's voice croons. "That'd be cheating."

"You didn't set any such rules when we started," Haru retorts.

"You're making this a thing of logic, rather than of knowing. The point of this game was you proving you could recognise your Baron blindfolded–"

"Which you've helpfully provided."

"–so if you go looking for my button eyes, where's the fun in that? Where's the creativity? Prove to me you know him for who he is, not who I am."

"I take it from the fact I still can't see a thing that I get a second chance?"

"I'm looking forward to you guessing wrong."

"Bold words from the monster who's just had to take a time out to establish extra rules," Haru scoffs. "So, what am I allowed to do?"

"Why, talk, of course. Ask questions."

"You've been watching me for months. I doubt there's much I could ask that you wouldn't know."

"But you've known the Baron longer than that," the Bedlam assures. "I'm sure there's something you can ask him that only he will know. Now, if you're quite done complaining about the game..."

The world shifts, and suddenly there is a gloved wrist in both of Haru's hands. "Baron? Are you back?"

"Yes," two voices chorus.

"Good. Now, let me think."

The Bedlam's interruption has unnerved her more than she wants to let on. Questioning both Barons on their knowledge had been Haru's next plan, but the Bedlam's assurance that such a scheme might work seems... odd. Even if he had only been watching for a few months – and that is plenty of time – he still managed to make a very convincing perfect world for Haru.

And Haru had talked with the Bureau so often (at least before her exile) that the Bedlam probably overheard them reminiscing about the past. He certainly knew about the Cat Kingdom and Katzen Blüt. And that was at least a decade ago.

Still, there were ways in which the Baron-Bedlam had differed from the original Baron. Maybe the Bedlam hasn't learnt from his mistakes. Some habits die hard, after all...

But, oh, this is going to break her heart.

"I have a question for you," she says eventually. "I want you to answer it truthfully, one at a time. Was what the Bedlam said earlier true? Do you..." She falters, and steadies her voice before attempting it anew. "Do you wish I was a Creation too? Would you have still thrown me out of the Bureau had I been... like you?"

Was I not enough?

She turns her head to her right. "You first."

Right Baron cradles her hand in both hands, his hold soft and precious. "No, never," he promises. "Haru, the Bedlam preys on our worst insecurities, using them make us doubt ourselves until we leave our world and all its imperfections behind. He said what he knew would wound you most. He used the biggest mistake of my life and used it to convince you that I didn't love you, and for that there is no apology I can give that will do justice to the harm I've done."

She feels Right Baron move closer, and she shakes her head, even though all her heart wants to do is fall into the embrace he would surely give.

Right Baron reads her correctly and backs off, but is still closer than before. "It's taken all of... this for me to see the error of my ways – taken me almost losing you – but now I see I never should have pushed you away. Instead I should have told you the truth: that I love you, exactly as you are."

Haru swallows. For the first time, she's glad of the blindfold – glad that neither can see the effect those words have had on her. Still, her mouth wavers as she turns her head to the left.

She doubts either one miss the way it takes her two tries before she can speak, and when she does she cannot fully hide the tremour.

"Now you."

Left Baron doesn't speak immediately. Though she can hear his breathing to be steady, she can feel his erratic pulse from the wrist caught in her grip.

"It would be a lie to say things would not be... simpler, if you were a Creation," Left Baron says. In contrast to Right Baron's heartfelt fervour, Left Baron's words are soft and sad. "Humans are so fragile and, sometimes, I think you forget that. But I don't. I can't. I look at you, and I see all the close shaves, all the near misses, all the times I could have lost you, and it breaks my heart."

His fingers brush against hers, so briefly that she could almost believe she imagined it.

"So would I have thrown you out of the Bureau had you been a Creation? No."

Haru can't help it; a pained, disgusted sound rises through her throat. She releases Left Baron's wrist before she can stop herself, but he grabs her hand.

"But would I love you if you were a Creation?" he asks, and his grip is firm and just a shade off desperate. "I don't know. Maybe. But even if I did, I would be in love with a different person. You would be different. Your compassion and bravery is rooted by your mortality, strengthened by your humanity, and that is the Haru I fell in love with."

Haru blinks and, even blindfolded, her eyes water. "It's you." She drops her hand away from Right Baron and cups Left Baron's face. She feels the dimple where eyes rest. No buttons. "It's really you."

[milothewriter]

•Renato Lyra x Male Reader: eyes are the window to the soul•

I wrote this on AO3 initially a couple years back. And now I thought it would be cool to just pull this over and maybe the other chapter? Idk. Anyways, hope you enjoy :)

It's happening again, Renato is staring, studying, and enamored. In his mind he's trying to pass it off as interest more than feelings of affection, since having interest is more digestible to him. It's once your eyes meet when he's broken from his trance as he quickly turns away and pretends he's doing something other than staring at you, your features, and your mannerisms. A deep sigh exits his lungs as he's done a complete 180 in under a second, now he can't even look in your general direction. However he can somewhat hear the conversation you're having with the other survivors, they're asking him questions about where he's from to what was his last memory before the black fog consumed him.

It's not long before his vision is clouded by a familiar black darkness. When he comes to his senses, he looks to see you, and two others. Your eyes meet once again but he feels a pang of shame when he notices the fear in your eyes. It doesn't take long before he begins to fidget with himself, his hands immediately reach to his thighs as he taps rhythmically, then he reaches to his neck and scratches before he messes with his bracelets. Everyone's vision is clouded again before they find themselves on MacMillian. Renato's eyes dart around trying to find something or someone, and like fate would have it he sees you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when he approached you so suddenly.

"Holy shi-...oh it's just you." You muttered while covering your mouth with your palm. Renato's lips part but he can't find the right words, so instead he tugs on your arm toward a generator. You kneel down together and begin to repair the generator, and just like before Renato's eyes slowly lead back to you. He finally musters up some courage to say something. "How much have they explained to you?" You pause-trying to rack your brain for an answer but just shrug as a response. "Not much, just that we have to fix these to power some gates to escape the killer...or some spider thing?...I'm not really sure."

Renato smiles, "That's okay and it's both that we're escaping from." Shortly after you both complete the generator and begin to walk to another one when you feel your heart pound against your chest faintly. Renato pulls you close by him under some crates and places his index finger against his lips. "That pounding you feel, it's an indicator as to how close the killer is." He whispers in a shushed tone. Eventually your heart calms down and you both come out of hiding to continue forward. This guy seems so different from the one you saw at the campfire, this one isn't as anxious as he seemed before, it's almost like he's in a zone or something. Whatever it is, he's focused and ready to tackle any objective. Suddenly Renato stops and turns his head to a direction off in the distance, he takes a look back to you and sighs through his nostrils. "Someone's in trouble, I'm going to help them and once I do I'll be right back."

Your brows knit together into a look of confusion. "How can you tell?" Renato's eyes dart above as he searches for a quick answer. "I just can, but don't worry you'll be fine. Now I've gotta go...sorry I'll be back as soon as possible." He says before running off. You watch as he exits so far that the fog covers him and you try and collect yourself. Flashing lights above meant that there was a generator close by, so you follow the light and get to work. Within seconds you hear a curt scream which makes your breath hitch, however you continue to work. It's surprisingly quiet after that, normally you could appreciate the silence but here it was uncanny. Right before completing the generator you hear footsteps coming your way along with grunts and moans of pain. It's the guy from earlier...

He doesn't acknowledge your concerned gaze as he hops on the gen with you. Once the gen pops you run to his side. "Are you okay, what happened!?" You question while looking at the huge slash in his arm. He hands you a roll of gauze and some butterfly tape. "It's hard to explain right now, just use these to patch the wound and I'll explain once we've escaped." He grunts. You're quick to follow his instructions as you tape the wound and wrap the gauze around. And again, just like before he's staring at you, and this time you're close enough to notice and acknowledge it.

"Your eyes..." Renato mumbles. You perk up and meet his longing gaze. "Um...yeah?" The corners of his mouth curve up slightly into a smile as he continues. "You have really pretty eyes." You fail to meet his eyes and so does he, there's a long pause between the two of you before he breaks it. "I'm sorry, I know we just met and that probably wasn't okay to say since we hardly know each other and-" You quickly shush him and shake your head. "It's fine, in fact it was pretty cute. I'm not used to compliments, especially from guys whose names I don't know." You chuckle.

Renato feels his face heat up as his cheeks flush. "It's..Renato. What's yours?" "It's, (Y/n)." The moment together is cut short as there's a pounding in your chest again, you look to Renato and he motions for you to follow him. "Follow me." You both run to where there's cover and peer behind a rock as Renato speaks up again. "Normally they can see where we went from the marks we leave behind but I was able to cover them since you stayed close to me." You just tilt your head at him but ignore the questions swimming in your mind for later. The pounding stops but is replaced by an ear piercing air horn, Renato turns to you with a grin. "That's our cue! Follow me."

The sound of your shoes can be heard hitting against the ground as you both sprint into the night without much care. Eventually you both reach a large gate where it appears someone already opened. Before you reach the end Renato raises his hand to you for a high five, your hands meet and you laugh together before exiting your first trial.

When you arrive back at the campfire you see Renato by himself, he's picking pebbles from the ground and tossing them before he notices you. You sit next to him and watch as he tenses up, he begins to mess with his hair by either twirling it or brushing his fingers through. "I wanted to thank you for earlier, without you I probably would've just sat in a corner scared shitless." You say as he turns to you. He just laughs awkwardly and nods. "I'm not used to this honestly." Renato begins. "You're something new to me, and you make me feel things I didn't think I could even begin to understand..." His hands are shaking and in an attempt to keep them busy he starts to interlock his hands and stretch them out. "Do you...get what I'm trying to say?" He asks while nervously smiling.

You take one of his hands in yours and nod. "Yeah...yeah I do. How about we take this slow and get to know each other some more though." He swiftly nods his head with a giggle. "We should play twenty questions or something like that?" You propose as he agrees.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asks. You snicker at the question. "Oh come on!"

The rest of the endless night was filled with laughter and chatter, aside from the murder game you have to participate in from here on out, it almost felt normal.

[multiplicity-positivity]

I hope you don't mind me coming to you with this, ignore me if I do

I think I might be a plural singlet. I've "soul bonded" with at least one fictional character or I have fictives? it's hard to tell because they never have control of me/the body. I can talk to them but they leave sometimes. I can't tell if I'm just maladaptive daydreaming or not.

I have one that's a fully unique person, he shows up at random times to be icky. I originally thought I was just naming my intrusive thoughts to cope, to separate those thoughts from my actual thoughts. maybe it is just that. I'm not sure.

is it possible for all of them to leave sometimes? to fully be a singlet while they stay in the background? like having multiple tabs open while only using one.

I can sometimes feel them. not literally but also literally? I can feel the ghost of their touch. I can feel their presence. I feel like there's another person in the room with me when I talk to them. I don't know if that's also just the maladaptive daydreaming

I'm sorry for the long ask. this has been weighing on me and I feel like I can't talk to anyone about it since I don't have traditional alters that front. how do I explain that all my alters are so far removed from me? or what I think could be alters.. I don't want to be called crazy or delusional because of the bond I have with fictional characters

for context purposes- I have bpd, autism and, like I said, maladaptive daydreaming. I'm pretty sure they came about from trauma. (tw) I had just gotten out of a toxic, codependent relationship when I soul bonded to a specific character I love. he makes me feel safe. it tears me up that I can't actually touch him

Hiya! We definitely don’t mind folks coming to us with their experiences, we hope we can help somehow! :3

First off um, I’d say that if you don’t think you have DID or OSDD, it would be better to call your system members something besides alter. That word specifically describes self-states or personality states in dissociative disorders! So if you’re pretty sure you don’t have one of those, it would be best to stick with headmates or some other word >w<

And it’s totally normal for system members to disappear sometimes, in systems of all sorts!! Sometimes stress, overwhelming situations, or simply having a lot going on can make it difficult for headmates to keep up communication. We think that with some types of created systems, it takes conscious effort from the host to maintain the presence of their headmates, so it makes sense for them to disappear from time to time! :33

Also they could just be… not fronting! But still active in the headspace! That’s how it is in our system… we may not be fronting all the time, but that doesn’t mean we’re gone! And for our host, who’s usually frontstuck, it may feel like we’re gone when we’re really still there, just outside the fronting space.

We’ve heard of soulbonding systems, plural singlets, and systems who formed from BPD or maladaptive daydreaming before! All of these things are valid plural experiences, and you and your system are definitely welcome in the plural community!! In the end it doesn’t matter what labels y’all choose to define your experience… what matters most is that you’re learning about yourself, finding a framework that brings you joy, and connecting with your headmates along the way!! >w<

Thanks so much for reaching out!! We hope y’all have a lovely day! :3

💚 Ralsei, 👻 Ghost, and 🐢 Kip

[millionth-attempt]

"Always your sword, my umbral sovereign; in life, in death, in anything beyond life or death that they want to throw at thee and me. I died knowing you’d hate me for dying; but Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I’d had your full attention."

So xd

SO.... How do I even start? How can I begin to comprehend, and even more so, find the words that capture my thoughts (insane) and my feelings (ahdkshfakdham) about this damn book? What, and please bare with me and the madness, WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS BOOK?

How is it possible that we have it, how is it possible that someone out there has a brain that is able to build... well, this.

When I first read Gideon the Ninth, all I had was disconnected (yet overwhelming) impressions floating around in my brain (like constantly, like I couldn't stop going back to them, in form of fanart and fanfics, because yes, I was a huge ass coward and I didn't dare -didn't want- to read Harrow the Ninth. Like her, I could not grasp, I could not stand hearing about a world without Gideon, much less like it). I was told by random tumblr users to have faith, that Harrow the Ninth was worth it and nothing I could ever imagine. I didn't want to trust them, I was so scared of being disappointed (heartbroken). I started the stupid book, though. I started because I wanted to know but also because I don't respect my feelings, not even a little bit. And then my chaotic impressions of Gideon the Ninth turned into madness after a second PERSON SINGULAR NARRATION, BITCH.

But then nothing happened.

So I went insane. I didn't understand. I couldn't process what was going on.

So I read fanfics with the constant fear of coming across spoilers. And then I actually spoiled myself on tumblr with some random post with a quote I now don't remember, but a quote that clearly implied Gideon was coming back.

So I did the only logical thing I could. Knowing I was stuck with Harrow the Ninth and yet still obsessed with them, I re-read Gideon the Ninth. And I finally understood. My incoherent thoughts about Gideon the Ninth had been completely accurate and I re-lived them all, but now I also had a complete picture of what was going on. Not just Gideon and Harrow, not just some random characters and names, not just a vague notion of what had happened, not just the heartbreak. I understood in a way that wasn't just emotional, that wasn't just falling in love and being wrecked by what happened. I also understood the succession of events, I understood how brilliant the plot was, the implications of such a crazy-ass necromantic-fantasy world. I had missed so much being too distracted by Gideon's brilliant mind and Harrow's earnest heart. (I had missed so much by being horny and desperate for them.)

And with a bit of a more rational understanding, I felt I was more cognitively prepared to face Harrow the Ninth again. And shit, I was. But it's wrecked me again.

Harrow the Ninth is the kind of book that feels right on every level, the kind of book that is so carefully and conscientiously built that it reached the status of ultimate perfection. The status of being destined to exist, of wouldn't make sense if it was different. Harrow the Ninth provides with an understanding and a development of who Harrow is that blows my mind and will continue to blow my mind until I'm dead. BUT, and let me state this very slowly and clearly, it does the same thing for Gideon. Gideon the Ninth compared to this book is such an introduction. I never imagined I could like Harrow the Ninth better, I never imagined that there could be a book that made me love Gideon more than Gideon the Ninth. I was so utterly and profoundly wrong I'm embarrased. Because how could I miss that as much as I love Gideon, no one, not a soul, can love Gideon more than Harrow. And this fucking book is just that. Harrow loving and grieving for Gideon to levels that I can't explain, that literally make my neurons snap and go crazy with obsession, with nausea, with the suicidal need to be swallowed by this book like the stoma swallowed Augustine xd

I know I will burn everything and then myself if they don't have a happy ending and I will continue to be wrecked by this insanity with the upmost delight. GIVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING, TASMYN, I BEG YOU ON MY KNEES

BUT CAN SOMEONE PLEASE, PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHO THE HELL IS NONA THE NINTH (not if it's a spoiler, only if I'm dumb and I missed the explanation)

[thecagedbirdsingsoffreedom]

I just had another conversation with E.

I don't quiet understand how we started talking about it either.

But now I'm stuck in my head with so many thoughts. I can't sleep. I need to relive them and push them back.

I have so many emotions to sort through.

I guess I should start with clarifying something.

I'm trying to help M.

He looks... so on edge. I'm worried about him, but after consulting with E I figured I would acquiesce in his request.

He wants comfort. He wants to be needed.

I can give him that. Well, more like I can give him the illusion of that. Faking it has always been my thing after all.

I just don't think he's able to separate reality from illusion.

Case in point, the events of today.

He almost kissed along my neck. Honestly, it made me sick. I have love for him, I do, but I could never.

I know I said never with you, but honestly this is a different kind of never.

I can not fathom the idea of him with me in any capacity. I've never had that inclination towards him whatsoever.

Plus I still dream of you. So really, everyone is fucking off the table.

Sometimes when he's holding me, I just pretend it's you. It makes the action more genuine and easier for me. I sink into the illusion of you he can provide in exchange for my comfort. It's almost a win-win in a twisted way.

So I'm back to doing this shit.

Which I was telling E about.

And somehow within my recounting my day it switched to us and our relationship and struggles throughout the years.

All the mistakes, miscommunication, and struggles. All relived.

It prompted the question of why we didn't try to make it work.

And I finally had to tell him. Partially and not fully outright, but I think he got it.

I didn't like it.

I never want to make him feel anything less than and yet I feel like that's what I constantly do. Even with you I had this same issue.

But I explained our reconnection.

And now I'm just there. Reliving it.

I needed you to get me out. I needed you to pull me out of the water again. I was drowning on land and you did what you've always done. After he broke me, it was like my dad took free reign on my meekness to hash it out on me about the business and the family.

I couldn't do it anymore.

So I called you, but in calling you I had my answer.

I didn't realize it at the time, but the reason it never worked out with anyone else was because it was always you. You were who I always reached for when I needed it. The answer was always you.

I didn't trust anyone like I did you. I didn't count on anyone like I did you.

The reason no one else worked was because they weren't you.

You'd gotten inside me on a deeper, unconscious level.

You've always been my rock. You're the person I could count on no matter what was going on. We could have gone years without speaking and sometimes we did but if I called you... it didn't matter. You'd come to me. Always. And I knew that deep in my core, in my very soul. I knew you were always with me no matter what. You'd proven that to me over and over again like no one else had. There was no doubt and no hesitation.

And you did. I called you and all I had to do was say your name and within hours you got me.

You didn't say anything until I was in your arms. Just one word and you dropped everything and came to get me. No explanations except asking me where I was and you showed up two hours later.

Nothing mattered. Absolutely nothing.

And when I told you everything.... you took care of all of it.

I never had a doubt that you wouldn't.

That's why it could never be anyone else. It didn't matter how much I tried to fight it and go against it. It didn't matter that I tried to have anyone else.

I knew it was you in that moment. I knew that it'd always been you. I wanted things from others that you were already and had always given. I expected shit from people as if they were you. As if they could possibly replicate you.

The idea was so ridiculous, I can't believe I entertained it for so long. There could never be someone else. Sometimes i think you knew all along that I'd come back to you. I'm not sure if that's why you were so confident in letting me go for long stretches of time, but if you did do it knowingly I wouldn't be surprised.

It's not Es fault. I don't think it's anyone's. It was just timing, the circumstances. You'd been working on us from day one. From whatever moment you decided I was it, was the moment you spent investing into us.

I have never for a single second of my life ever doubted my importance in your life. Never. You put in the work to make sure I knew my place in your life. There was never any doubt or second guessing, you made sure of that. It didn't matter if you were dating a model or investors daughter. It didn't matter if you out dining gorgeous or smart women. You set up a foundation so strong that I knew, because I knew it down to my bones, that I'd never be second to them.

They could be anything more than me. More beautiful, smarter, funny - it didn't matter. I knew I was above them where it mattered.

That's why nothing ever worked long term. Not for you, and certainly not for me. After the honeymoon was over I'd analyze and compare and at the end of the day no one was you.

And I'd lose interest.

And that's how I'd string along one, two, three and beyond until they ultimately fell short.

I remember our conversation right before we took a new step in our relationship.

You were unforgiving and so assured of us that I couldn't even fight it anymore.

There was only one hesitation you had and that was E. That was the only thing left, but I remember the look on your face when I'd confirmed what we both knew.

That I'd gone to you. I chose to go to you without a second thought.

And then you fixed me. And for once, I let you entirely.

You gave me everything back and then some. You got me back to life. You polished and worked and no one has ever given me the level of confidence you have. I hadn't ever been so at peace before.

You focused solely on me, completely unrestrained.

You worked me until I was back to a semblance of myself. I was a mesh of new and old. With you behind me, I walked with my eyes closed. I don't close my eyes with anyone because I try to be that level of comfort for them. You were the only one I could walk with blind, because I trusted you had me.

And when I finally allowed myself to fully fall into you...

I can't imagine anyone else now.

There is no one else.

That's why it wouldn't have worked in the long run.

I don't deserve the love E has for me. I don't deserve it. I never will.

I'll never be able to reciprocate it in the same way.

Because that's something I gave only to you.

In the moments when I've needed someone the most, even to just talk about triumphs, you'd always been the first person that came to mind. You're still my first and last thought of the day.

I don't think I'll ever be able to love someone like this again. It all went to you and you took it with you to your grave.

It's so sad. Everything is so sad about all of this. You, me, E, M and even A. Even her dumbass.

Even if we'd done our best, I don't think it would have worked.

Because there is and will never be anyone but you.

[paigenoelchas-blog]

Feels Like Home, part 25

TW: emotional and actual smut. Please don't read unless you are 18 or over.

Some days I wish I could go back in time. Not to change anything, but to feel a few things twice. Tonight was one of those nights.

We pull into the driveway with the tree still resting in the back. Before he can open my door, I hop out of the car and into his arms. I can. not wait for another second to be in his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and start unbuttoning his shirt and placing kisses on his chest, His skin is hot and inviting, He smells incredible, like pine trees and wood chips and a little bit of cinnamon. He doesn't falter, he reaches one arm under my ass and holds me there and he searches for the house key.

I meet his lips with mine and I hear him moan. His voice sounds thick like syrup and rich like molasses and tobacco. I can't escape all of the images from the day. I remember how his kind words have spoken to my soul and how he has always spoken the truth to my heart.

He doesn't stop kissing me, doesn't remove his lips from mine or comes up for air until we are in the bedroom.

"I have a surprise for you outside of this room, but I am afraid that it must wait. I am not stopping until I have shown you the depths of my feelings for you."

"No complaints," I staccato my words in between breaths as I throw his shirt to the floor. He still has not put me down but is heading straight to bed. His steps are quick, his lips have now taken mine as his hands have also taken my ass hostage.

He places me on the bed and slows down a bit, running his hands through my hair. "Hang on a second," He leaves me there, full of desire and I see him begin to light candles. As they light up, I notice that peonies fill every available space in the bedroom, the smell at once delights me and sends me back into one of my favorite memories. The candles flicker and the peonies, orange, and peach, fill the room with the loveliest of smells. Every sense had been accounted for. It doesn't;t surprise me. He is very thoughtful and quite meticulous when he wants to be.

He returns to bed, looming over me. His face is mere inches from mine. His eyes are dark as if there is something that he can't verbalize, and a desire that drives me wild. I watch him forcibly control the pace of his movements, prolonging the wait for our union. Forcibly controlling himself to prolong our pleasure.

I know this night is important to both of us. This moment is full of promises and is decisively more than just a moment of pleasure. I wish I could explain to him that it means as much to me, but I think in his heart he knows. We both waited for this moment until it was right, My mind is clear. I am where I want to be, I am who I want to be with for the rest of my moments.

The candlelight accentuates every muscle on his body. He is beautiful, as his chest glistens in the dim light, I think about the way he handled the saw, the way that I know his strong body would protect me, thinking of the way that he kept himself safe all of those years. My attraction to him is so much more than how he looks, it is the soul of who he is. He cares deeply and loves hard. He remembers things that make me feel special. He is so stubborn, but that works in love as well as in life. With him, I am safe, I am challenged, I am satisfied.

His hand returns to my hair, and his eyes lock on mine. he brushes it out of my face and lets it float down onto his pillows. We just lay that way for a minute relishing the warmth and love in the room.

"Thank you, Mahri," he begins, "for loving me, for giving me the chance to be with you, I love you in every possible way."

He turns me to the side as he wraps his arms around me. "You have me unhinged at the moment and I am not ready for that quite yet."

He smiles and refocuses, his hand traces the hair on my forehead. "I love your mind, the way that it works, to solve problems, to find creative solutions, to learn new things. Your mind is brilliant and you often surprise me with your intellect, not many people do." He leans down and places gentle, slow kisses across my forehead.

"I love your eyes, because, well, they are beautiful, the most gorgeous green that I have ever seen." He pauses and sighs, "They are so easy to get lost in. I love them even more because they are your window to the world. I love the way that you see things. You notice the needs of people just by observing them. You notice the details that most people miss. When your eyes meet mine, my body feels warm. I see your love for me through your eyes. I love the ease with which you can share your tears, making me feel as though the pain that I carry is not alone, that you carry part of it too." He puts his hand on my cheek and then kisses one eyelid and then the other. It is a gesture that one may expect to be done to a baby or a sweet child, but when he does it to me, I feel treasured and adored. This is a feeling that most women don't get to feel.

"I love your ears," He whispers as he brushes my hair behind one of them. I grimace because loving someone's ears is a little weird but the way his breath feels on my skin is divine. His voice lowers into this sexy growl, "...because I love the way that you listen to me and have this amazing ability to hear what I am really trying to say, even when I stumble over the words. I love the way that you make my words feel important and my thoughts feel validated." He takes my ear gently between his teeth and nibbles on it a little bit, tugging a little with his teeth. I can't believe how this makes me feel, it makes me shiver. A moan slips out and I can feel him smile.

"I love your lips, the way they taste when you kiss me, like honeysuckle and cardamom, I love the feeling of our tongues in the exploration of each other. I also love, maybe more so, the way that the corners of your mouth curl up right after you have said something cheeky, or the way your smile is so big when you laugh that your nose crinkles just a little, or the way that you say things that make me laugh, and blush, and cry. You and your lips are amazing," He pauses and brings my lips quietly to his own. He is displaying such tender care, that it melts my heart. As quickly as the kisses start, they turn demanding. His hands begin to roam my body, grabbing my ass, my legs, my breasts, whatever he can get his hands on. It is a whirlwind. We are a mess, a hot, sweaty, needy mess, completely out of control. Then he pulls back, and my lips try to follow his, but he won't allow it. He is driving me crazy, but I know that he is not done yet.

He is catching his breath.

He slowly grabs my shirt and pulls it off over my head. He is gentle and I don't know how he manages to go from greedy to delicate in such a short time. I want him, it is taking all of my restraint to let him finish his thoughts.

His finger gently grazes the tender part of my neck and traces a line down from my collarbone to my heart. He traces the fine line for a moment, his eyes are still dark, but in the corner, I can see a tear begging to form. then he speaks as his hands trace circles over my heart. "This is what I love most of all. I don't know how or why you love me and those of us around you, I don't know how you are so good at meeting us where we are. I don't know how you make me want to be a better man, how you have taught me to hope in a hopeless world, taught me to love and accept love when I thought that wasn't possible for me. You have caused me to break through every barrier I had and I am a better person than I ever thought I could be. Your heart has given me the strength to deal with things from my past and move freely into my future." He leans down and kisses my neck following the line that he had traced earlier, down to my heart.

Once there, he apparently loses control of himself. He quickly, and I mean quickly, unhooks my bra and kisses more of me, teasing my nipples with his tongue, He takes them with his lips, biting and twisting them in the most toe-turning way. I am awkward in my skin, the electricity and fire forming into intense shocks that move through my body. My hands roam his body, covering every inch of skin that I can find. There is never enough. I can't ever be close enough to him. I pull and I scratch, trying to alleviate the raw animal desire that is building within me.

He is ravenous, his lips reaching for more, his body grappling for position. He is on top of me holding me down with his hips, God, those hips, He is claiming me and I am more than willing to be claimed. Suddenly, he rolls us over. I am on top, straddling him and his hand is on my ass, clenching and pulling me closer while his lips still vie for more, always seeking more. He moves his hands up to my waistband as he begins removing me from my pants. I begin to grind against his leg and a noise I can't explain escapes from his mouth. "Mahri, you are going to make it impossible to make this moment last." He whispers emphatically.

He shifts me underneath him and moves down my body with his strong hands that deliver such gentle touches. His lips on my body, which are near the belly button, stop at my hips, They are demanding. They will take control, they are unrelenting. His tongue heads straight for the glorious folds that are already waiting for him, already wet, divert at the last minute to the inside of my thigh, where the nibbles and kisses and the gentlest of touches move down to my toes and back up again.

Every inch of my body that he touches, makes it harder for me to let him take the power at the moment. His mouth begins its journey back toward my center. I feel his tongue enter the glorious spot that has been waiting so long for him.

God, how I want him. I want him now.

It is then that I realize that he has way too many clothes on and I can't have that. I pull him up and grab his belt releasing it and ridding him of his pants.

Now, as I see him completely vulnerable, exposed to me, He is even more beautiful. I see his soul when he looks at me with those dark, lust-filled eyes. I see the future of us together. I hear the words that he just spoke a few moments ago. He has resumed kissing me and it is incredible but my mind is focused on the incredible human that he is and the fortune that I have to be with. He is a man whose unfailing love and trust will stand behind me and all of my crazy ideas. He will hold me up when I fall, cry when I am sad, and drive me wild in bed. He reaches that perfect spot in my body that attempts to send me over the edge. "I Love You..." I manage to scream in the middle of a mind-blowing orgasm, "Fuck, I love you."

I look up at him and I see tears in his eyes, then I take control. I flip him on his back and grab his member, it bulges in my hands. His breathing increases and his eyes roll, then I straddle him and begin my descent onto his body when he pulls my ass closer to his. He is not willing to lose control for long. Interesting. He seems so rational, but in the bedroom, it is a different story. Not that I mind, a forceful man is damn sexy and I need him inside me.

When our bodies unite, all of the electricity that has been building, all of the emotions that we have been feeling, and all of the love that we share, come together. He pushes himself deep inside, each thrust deeper and longer and fuller than the last. I can't get enough, I can't be close enough to him. He can't push to a place that is too far. He looks at me and locks on my eyes, his eyes almost black. "Come for me, Baby, " I almost beg. He thrusts one final time, burying himself deep inside and I feel the release. He grabs my body and pulls it close to his. He is shaking. He won't let go.

"Baby, are you alright? Did I do something?" I ask, suddenly insecure.

"I..." he is still breathing deeply "...just had an out-of-body experience or utter bliss and complete and total satisfaction. I don't quite know how to describe it. My body doesn't know how to respond to receiving everything it never thought it could have. And you and this body are more than the finest artists could have ever created."

I have no words to vocalize the depth of my love for him, he is supposed to be the awkward one, the one without words to say what he thinks, but tonight he has communicated all of his thoughts and the depths of his feelings and I am the one who is at a loss. I have no words to explain how I feel in this moment, no words to explain how I am already waiting with bated breath for our next time together, no words to adequately describe how this is the single most exemplary moment of my life, but I think, somehow, he knows. My only response, lame it is, comes from a poem that I read once in high school when I wanted desperately to feel like I do right now. In a choppy voice, as tears threaten to release themselves, I squeak out, "You are my sun, and my moon, and all of the stars."

He removes himself from my body and pulls me in close. I am in no hurry to move. We lay there in the afterglow. I roll onto my side and lay my head on his chest as he pulls the covers up around me. I begin to hear him hum the song that we first danced to. I remember that it spoke of growing old and still dancing together when the world around them fell away. It is the thought and the dream that I now hold in my heart. I hear the hum turn into deep breathing and I know he is at peace as am I.

I haven't had many moments that I want to relive, even if I did, this feeling of being whole and completely united with someone, with Jake who is my perfect other half and the last love that I will know, is at the top of my list, with a bullet. When I am old and gray and my brain is gone, I know this memory will remain as will our love.

**poem that is quoted is from e.e. cummings.

[breaksomegreggs]

I keep thinking about that beginning scene in 'All the Bells Say', were everyone is sat around playing Monopoly. Maybe I'm over reaching but I can't not focus on the contrast in dynamics between Shiv and Greg.

When Tom gets up to leave, explaining that he has an interview with Forbes regarding how he was able to make ATN profitable, Shiv makes a disparaging comment rather than being supportive or wishing Tom good luck. Greg, meanwhile is a lot more encouraging. He's smiling brightly at Tom as he's leaving and and even calls out, "Talk about me!" Surprisingly, instead of insulting him or questioning why he would talk about Greg in his interview, Tom replies with "Will do," almost as if it was a given that he would. It's like Greg has taken on the role of 'wife'.

Considering how head over heels Tom was with Shiv once upon a time, it doesn't take any stretch of the imagination that he would gush about her in an interview. Instead, while unlikely to do the same with Greg, he's apparently happy to mention Greg who is becoming more and more of replacement for his actual wife. Shiv on the other hand comes across as that asshole friend who rather than congratulating you finds a way to mock and belittle your achievement. Tom defends himself by pointing out that her statement is 'reductive and unfair', but seems otherwise unfazed, which given how eager he's always been for his wife's approval is also surprising.

It's quite clear that by this point that Tom is well aware that Shiv will never support him the way he wants her to, hence his comments several episodes prior about 'pushing her down the stairs and marrying Greg' instead. With Greg he gets the kind of support he doesn't get from Shiv. Even if Tom has to persuade or even bully Greg into going along with what he wants, Greg almost always does. We see this later on in the episode when Tom asks Greg to come with him and despite Greg on his way to securing his dream Parks job and initially reluctant, after some push back and guilt tripping from Tom, agrees, even telling Tom, 'Of course' as if it should be obvious he would.

With Greg in his life, Tom's betrayal of Shiv seems inevitable as Tom has found a replacement 'wife' - one who will both support him and who Tom also has power over, something which he has never had with Shiv. It's also clear how happy and relieved Tom is when he hears the words 'What am I going to do with a soul anyway?' from Greg. With Shiv's reluctance to have a child, Greg's rejection would have been devastating for Tom. Even way back in the safe room episode in season two, Tom practically has mental breakdown when Greg suggests him going somewhere else. Greg refers to it as 'a business open relationship,' quite clearly mirroring the one that Shiv established for them on their wedding night, which Tom reluctantly agrees to for fear of losing her. Of course, unlike with Shiv, Tom has power over Greg to get him to stay with him completely. (or at least until the end of S2 when Greg gives Kendall the papers)

Interestingly, I think if Greg had rejected him, there is the possibility that Tom might not have gone through with his plan of telling Logan what his children were up to. Knowing that Greg was going to be coming with him made Tom feel secure as Greg's support inspires confidence in him. Greg is the only person in the family who has any respect for him and without that anchoring him, Tom would arguably not be as successful at Waystar as he is, or even drown. A need to dominate someone is likely why Tom quickly latches onto Greg. Of course, he ends up quickly developing Feelings™. Tom needs constant reassurance, and Greg is the only one who gives it to him, even if at times Greg may do so to serve his own self interests.

idk I went on a slight tangent there but I think that brief interaction is an interesting precursor to both to Tom's betrayal of Shiv and his 'marriage proposal' to Greg later on in the episode.

Greg/Sporus as Tom/Nero's 'wife' will, at least in Tom's mind, give him the support and fill his emotional needs in a way that he knows that sadly he realises Shiv never will.

[dandelion-sugar]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.