#screaming crying throwing up I love them so much
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adultemophase · 3 days ago
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the way theres now two chairs in this room because Vi is there now is making me INSANE
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rokon24 · 2 days ago
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the way theres now two chairs in this room because Vi is there now is making me INSANE
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just-some-random-blogger · 7 hours ago
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you get me. you GET me. you get me so much i screamed when you laid down what you got. UGHHH. literally i hope to write more fics that will interest you because UGHHHHH you just get meeeeeeee its sooo goodddd
i also i too use girl as gender neutral sLAYYY.
I'm so happy you love the cargyll twins 🥺🫶🫶
The way we always see her as *herself*, beyond her ailment, beyond her concerns of putting up an act, both as a Hightower daughter and/or a Targaryen wife. She's just herself, without being worried that she's disappointing Otto or Daemon.
this is it. this is literally how i envisioned their dynamic to be yknow. when you commented on this once before i leapedddddd for joy it LEAPED really. you get me. you get meeee.
she's just a girl when she's with them. just a girl who loves to swim and pick flowers. did you actually sob cos of the scene with erryk? 🫂🫂🫂 but also... love that for me HAHAHAH.
(I don't even want to think about the fact that the last time she experienced something like this was probably in old town w gwayne when they were children)
dw. i like to think the sibs snuck out to go for a swim for the last time before she was married to daemon. to cheer her up yknow. alicent was there too <3
I love the way you portray Otto's relationship [...]
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THISSSSSSSS. THISSSS. YOU JUST GET MEEEE T_T SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. I literally JUST ranted about this to my friend that everyone is like 'daemon is trying' WHAT ABOUT OTTO I WROTE HIM THAT WAY TOO AND YOU JUST 😫😫😫😫😫 FUCKK YOU GETTT MEEEEEe
[...] with the reader because he's not black and white with his motives, only using his daughter to raise his House's standing. Rather, he's a complex character with layers, he's still a father - albeit a shitty one at that.
YOURE SOOOOOO ON POINT WITH EVERYTHING LITERALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY i thought it was really important to expound on this because DAEMON IS LITERALLY OTTO TO HER!!! BUT IN A WAY BETTER BECAUSE AT LEAST DAEMON IS CAPABLE OF SOME SORT OF AFFECTION. she's like 'ok my dad treats me this way, ergo my husband treating me this way is fine' !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is so important fr fr because we accept the love we think we deserve.
He loves his daughter, in his own twisted way. How he ensures that she's not having a fit before dropping the baby bomb on her. He worries for her, knows her ticks.
💯 no notes
But it's the way he uses his love and knowledge regarding her to get his own way and to get the reaction he wants out of her that's the most twisted.
THIS!!!!!! ok im so fucking excited i just want to tell you BUT ALL WILL BE REVEALED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER IVE BEEN BUILDING THIS SHIT UP FOR SO LONG IM SO FUCKING GLAD YOU CAUGHT ON IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY.
Also, I love how we're seeing mc slowly but surely starting to stand up for herself. WE LOVE GROWTH IM SO PROUD OF HER, I COULD CRY.
<3 but also..... who's gonna tell her (not me)
Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.
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ur so me fr bestie
Honestly speaking, I was one of the few that voted for reader to prioritise herself and not go after either gwayne or daemon but ohh!!! I loved loved loved this scene.
🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯 AS YOU SHOULD. AS YOU FUCKING SHOULD. I WAS AND AM STILL ACTUALLY VERY GAGGED THAT THAT POLL WOUND UP THAT WAY. SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING TOTALITARIANISM BECAUSE THIS DEMOCRACY AINT WORKING FOR ME CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN COMFORT DAD BOI DAEMON???????? YUCKKK i mean i get it but DAMNNNN?????
her whole arc with gwayne was rough. spolier? i dont plan on bringing him back at all so </3 if he comes back well 😬😬 shits about to go down
ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT,
HAHAHHAHAHHAHAH YOU LIKE ME FR FR FR I TOO CALL HIM RAT HAHAHAHAH AND EVERYONE ELSE THAT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF
YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING MAD AT MY GIRL FOR NOT BEING THERE WHEN YOU DEGRADED HER THE LAST TIME AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!!!!
�� yeesh fr.
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Her telling him to speak what he wants and not twist his words is soooo real. YES GIRLL SET IT STRAIGHT WE DONT WANT EXTRA HEADACHES IN OUR LIVES!!
🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯 AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU GET ME YOU DONT MISSSSSSSS
I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3
dw. she'll find out it wasnt a dream.............. eventually
Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.
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UR LITERALLY ME FRRR HAHAHHAHHAHA
EVEN THE LINE YOU QUOTEDDDD i feared people might overlook it BUT YOU SAW. YOU GET ME. AND THATS MORE THAN ENOUGH.
I am so honored to have gotten your lovely reblog. i will 100% tag you my love. i'm glad you like my fic and my brain and my words. i love you so much. literally if there is something you want to see in this fic, just tell me and i'll make it happen for you fr fr.
Tormented Spirit | 7
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat
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Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.
He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.
"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."
Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.
"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.
Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"
"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"
"HOPSCOTCH!"
A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.
"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.
You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."
Erryk's face only contorts further.
"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."
In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.
"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."
He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."
You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."
Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."
You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.
He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."
You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.
He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"
He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.
You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"
Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"
Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"
"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."
You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."
Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."
"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"
Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."
"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.
"Say what?" you knit your brows.
Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."
Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.
You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"
"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."
Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"
Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."
You feel bile rise up your throat.
"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."
You shake your head, and gather your skirts.
"As has the prince."
Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.
As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.
You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.
Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"
You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"
"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."
"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."
Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"
"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."
He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."
You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"
"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.
Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"
Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"
You stare blankly at him.
He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"
You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."
Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.
You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.
"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"
You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."
Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."
Your jaw clenches.
"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."
You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"
He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."
You whip your head to him and pull away.
Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.
"W-what?"
He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."
You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.
"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."
Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.
You try to take his hand, but he slips away.
"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.
Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.
"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.
You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"
"Perhaps you should sit down first."
You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.
"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.
You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.
"Princess, please, slow down," one says.
You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.
"Princess."
You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.
You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.
Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.
It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.
You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."
He stares at you wordlessly.
You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.
He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."
You nod, "I know."
"Go to him," he says softly.
"I-"
"Go to him!" he snaps.
You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.
Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.
"If it is your command, I shall obey."
He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."
You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."
Daemon does not move.
"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."
It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.
You stare.
"You do not want to go to him?"
Your lips part.
He raises his brows.
"I... I do."
Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.
The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.
"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.
Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.
The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.
Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"
Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.
"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.
He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.
"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."
He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."
"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.
Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.
Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"
His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."
"I'm fine."
"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.
You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."
You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"
"No."
You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,
"This is glass."
"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"
Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."
You pull your head back, "on accident?"
"On purpose," he tilts his head.
You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"
He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."
You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.
It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."
"..."
"You were not there."
You do not tear your gaze from his injury.
He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"
You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"
Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.
You continue wrapping up his hand.
"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.
"Why?"
His brows furrow.
"Why was I being a bitch?"
"..."
You spare him a quick glace.
He pulls his head back, "... what?"
"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"
His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?
You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.
Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?
You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."
Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.
"How do you feel?"
He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.
"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."
He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.
You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."
His eyes meet yours.
"I am here to care and comfort you."
He leans back, taken by the thought.
You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."
His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."
You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.
"I don't-"
"Daemon."
He stills.
You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.
He feels himself getting hard.
"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.
Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.
You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"
"I..." he starts.
You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.
"...wanted you to come to my tent."
You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."
"I want you."
You nod, "I will tend to you—"
Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.
He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.
Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.
You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."
He hums, nipping your flesh in response.
You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"
He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.
"Please, Daemon, wait-"
"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"
Your breath hitches as he sinks down.
"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"
"I- that's not-"
"Do you or do you not?"
"I... I do—"
You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.
He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.
You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.
Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.
Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.
You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.
Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.
"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.
You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.
He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.
Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.
At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.
His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.
"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.
He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.
You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.
"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."
You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."
Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."
He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.
"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."
You begin to grit your teeth.
"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.
It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.
He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.
You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.
You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.
Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"
You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."
Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.
The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."
You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."
Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"
You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"
He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"
You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"
Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."
You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"
His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.
"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."
His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"
"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."
When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.
Your heart races as he takes your hand.
"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."
You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."
He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.
"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."
He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.
He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.
"Daemon."
He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.
You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"
"I will stay."
You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."
He frowns, wiping your tears.
When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.
"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.
He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."
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cherryswisherz · 3 days ago
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triggered
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jana x oc
warnings: oc is going through a breakup
get it the fuck together jaz. lock. in. 
staring into the mirror, i study every aspect of my face. my curls flow down my back. my face is beat to perfection. the jewelry i have on costs more than my rent. 
i should be ecstatic.
i'm living every girls dream. 
there are 5000 people outside this bathroom door, chanting my name, waiting for me to give them memories they'll die with. 
and yet i'm in here, staring at myself, fighting the urge to say fuck this shit and go home. 
my phone dings, and i ignore it, thinking it's my manager, telling me i need to haul ass and get on stage. 
but then it dings again. 
holly never texts twice. 
i pull out my phone and it's paige. 
i forgot she's here. 
paigey be you. be great.
oh fuck her for that. 
now i have  to go on. 
with a sigh, and a quick tune up in the mirror, i open the door, march to the stage entrance and wait for my que. 
the music starts and i walk with all the confidence i can muster and smile at the deafening screams of my name. 
jazmin! jazmin! jazmin!
paige is front and center, with all her teammates and azzi. 
i used to be the number one pazzi shipper. i fought for this relationship to happen. i practically shoved paige out of the closet myself so that she and azzi could be together. 
and now here they are with my face on their shirts and holding each other in their arms and i want to throw up. 
not because i don't want them together, but because seeing that makes the loneliness in my chest seem bigger. 
i don't even really miss her.  i just miss having someone to call at 3 am when i can't sleep. i miss having someone to call first when i get news. i miss having someone to hold. 
i guess you could say i miss being in a relationship, rather than the person i was in a relationship with. 
"hey guys !" i yell into the mic, and everyone screams. "thank you all for coming out today, i love you all so much!" the crowd is deafening. "i wanna give special shout out to my sister, paige and the other members of the UCONN womens basketball team for being hear today!" the camera pans to paige and the girls, and i do a double take when i see a girl around my age, towering over everyone else. "i love you paigey!" the crowd goes wild. 
the concert began and i used my show to work through all the mixed emotions i was feeling, bringing my audience with me through them. 
we danced during my verse on my type. laughed during b.s. . cried during none of your concern.
and after an hour and 30 minutes of singing, dancing, crying, and yapping between songs, the concert was over. 
and i could a breathe again. 
until i was bombarded by my 6'1 sister and her ginormous friends. 
everyone told me how amazing i look and sound and how they listen to my music everyday. these are things i hear everyday so i say the same response i say everyday. 
"thank you so much." 
"aye we're boutta go to a club, you trynna roll with us?" paige asked, rubbing her hands together and looking at her girlfriend, who i'm just now realizing is wearing a semi-skimpy outfit. 
so is everyone else, actually. 
and now they're looking at me like i can't say no. 
so i don't. 
"uh yeah!" i chuckle uncomfortably. "just let me change real quick."
*luh time skip*
i'm actually glad i came out. 
we got a section. bottles galore. music is booming. 
the vibes are actually immaculate. i'm two shots in and kk is twerking in my lap as big boogie talks about taking caramel colored baddie to poundtown. we vibing for real. 
i've learned the beautiful girl from earlier is named jana. she doesn't really talk, and i guess she'd too young to drink because she's been babysitting ginger ale all night. 
"i'm gonna go get a bottle of casamingo!" i annouce, bouncing up from the counch and stomping down the stair of our section. 
when i reach the bar, i pay the bartender and wait for my bottle. but while i'm waiting i hear my name being called and i assume it's a fan, so i turn around with a huge smile, only to be slapped in the face with the sight of my ex-girlfriend, kristen.
she looks exactly the same as she did three weeks ago when we broke up. and for some reason that pisses me off. it makes my blood boil and my breath quicken. 
i'm ripped out of my trance when i hear the dj yell, "WE GOT JAZMIN INNA HOUSE!!!" 
fuck. he's gonna make me sing. 
"COME UP AND GIVE SOMETHING GIRL!" he shouts and everyone screams in agreement. 
in a daze, i walk to the stage and grab the mic. 
everyone chants, 
freestyle freestyle freestyle
and then the dj, who i'm beginning to really fucking hate, plays a beat i've never heard before, leaving me not knowing what the fuck to do. 
i look to our section, and see my sister with her phone up, recording. i see azzi giving me thumbs up like the sweetheart she is. i see kk clapping and cheering with everyone else. 
i see jana, with a look of fear in her eyes. 
like she can tell that i'm freaking fuck out, so she is too. 
but i can't go out like this. 
so i catch the beat, and sing whatever comes to mind. 
saying everything that's been on my mind for weeks now. 
"go figure you were the trigger you brought me to an obstructed view when you knew the picture was bigger who am i kiddin? knew from the beginnin you'd ruin everything you do it everytime you are my enemy, you are no friend of mine, muhfucka"
the crowd is loving it, swaying their flashlights to the music. paige looks so proud of me. she knows how i've been struggling since everything happened so i think she knows what a release this is. 
i look over to kristen who looks delectable, like always and it's pissing me off because the sex was great, but everything else sucked. but it's been so fucking long and i know that if i had 5 minutes to talk to her earlier i would have been back at square one in that toxic cycle of fucking and making up. 
"wanna fuck you right now i just turned the light out know and you know when the sun go down that's when it would all go down been a minute been a while ain't let nobody hit since you hit it i know you always know what to do with it but ain't no me and you without you in it damn i'm boutta burn this bitch down think i need to lie down cause i'm not trynna wild out now. but right now..."
i think of the screaming matches. the broken phone. the hole in my wall.
"don't know what i'm capable of might fuck around and go crazy on cuz might fuck around have to pay me in blood this ain't the way that you want it might catch a case in this bitch don't let m catch you face t face in this bitch trying my hardest not to disrespect you but after what you did, man what you expect? you muhfucka"
i find jana in the crowd because her face is so calming to me, and i don't know why. her eyes are closed and she's just vibing with a small smile on her face. 
she's not recording or anything, she's just enjoying the moment, and that warms my heart. 
"trynna let the time fly trynna let the time go by trynna let the time heal all trynna let the time kill all of our memories all you meant to me all that's history i'll calm down eventually fall back into me maybe i'm overeacting baby i don't know what happened you know all of my bad habits you know it's hard for me to control that shit man cuz when i get mad i get big mad shoulda never did that, get back in my bag in my feelings i'm a bad lil bitch and uh-"
i look back to kristen, who's wearing a pained expression on her face. 
good.
she know it's about her. 
"i'm triggered, when i see your face triggered when i hear your name triggered, i am not okay you need to stay out my what triggered when i hear your name triggered i am not okay you need to stay out my way." 
and then it's over, and the crowd cheers, and i hurry off the stage, back to my section where my friends all hug me and tell me that it was beautiful. 
and when the crowd settles, and i've taken another shot, because i felt entirely too sober, someone taps me on my shoulder. 
it's jana.
"can i get your number?"
"huh?" i ask confused as to why she'd want my number. 
"uh..." she looks around for a second. "i just wanna pay you back for the bottle."
jana hasn't been drinking.. why would she need to pa-
a light bulb goes off in my head and it all come together. 
"here." i hold my phone to hers and our contacts share to each other. 
am i ready for this?
probably not.
but.... we gotta start somewhere right?
niyah speaks lawd they got me writing a seriessss
taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld
@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pboogerswbb @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @paigesbabygirl @ch12334
@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad
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mysticaltea · 2 days ago
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Never would have guessed that fourth Wing would mark my return to Tumblr but here we are 😭
I love this book so much, here is my review-
I wish I could give more than 5 stars!!! Screaming, crying, throwing up😭😭😭 I loved this book so much, I can't put into words....this review is going to be a garbled mess😭😭😭😭😭 this book while I was reading it, was more important than breathing air to me.....I swear it!!! I was annoyed because I was hungry and had to eat, I did not fucking sleep.....The chokehold this book had on me.....my self destruction peaked here 🤣 I did not care about anything else, I wanted to live in those pages 😤 I fucking read with a flashlight on in dark, I was thinking about it while I was not reading....it took me 2 days to read all 500 pages and I still wish it never ended 😭😭😭 I immediately need iron flame!!! I know there are many tropes but they are all done so well....and for the first time in a long time I really loved the main female character!!! Violet has my heart and so does xaden......I love them so much.....pls be together always 🥹🥹🥹 this is what I mean when I say fantasy is my favorite genre....miss Rebecca yarros pls take a bow!! You queen 👏👏👏 all 500 pages and not a single boring word, just immaculate sizzling dangerous deadly sexy exhilarating piece of perfection.....onto the next now, starting iron flame asap (I know i am crazy and I accept it with whole heart!!😭) btw best book of the year for me, no notes, just ❤️
PS- Will be actively looking for fourth wing support groups, pls help😭
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notreallythatlost · 1 day ago
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AAAAAA THIS WAS AMAZING
JUST FREAKING AMAZING I CAN’T
i have so much to say so here we go…
You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north.
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You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.
LITERALLY A BABY
"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.
STARING AT YOU??? ALWAYS
"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.
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the whole scene has me in pieces, she had to leave everything behind (for that i would curse morgoth too)
The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.
he really loves her, that‘s the proof 😭😭
"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."
THAT IS WHAT HE DESERVES AND NOTHING LESS
"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."
AHH STOP THESE LINES I‘M CRYING
"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.
devotion? sounds more like obsession 🧐
"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.
HOW DARE YOU ASKING THAT QUESTION???
"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."
my heart just broke
"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.
i would‘ve killed him for this words
He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.
what… what did i say?
His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.
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Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. (…) He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure. (…) He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.
screaming, crying, throwing up
"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."
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A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.
i’m always forgetting about breathing oml
It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.
noo stoop 😭
As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.
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It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.
this whole fic left a hole in my heart too
i have to go… doing things… crying
Haunted (Sauron/F!Reader)
...by the kiss you should never have given me
Lots of mini-chapters add up to an omnibus of angst, as we follow Sauron through the centuries and discover exactly what happened before his coronation.
Sequel to To Have and To Hold // Prequel to In the Dark of the Night // AO3 Link
Soundtrack: Kiss Me Harder by Jordan Fiction, Judas by Lady Gaga, Angels by Within Temptation, Heaven's A Lie by Lacuna Coil, NFWMB by Hozier
Warnings: 18+! Angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, manipulation, toxic relationship (more overt towards the end), obsessive!Sauron, soft!Sauron (yes the two can coincide), knifeplay (just a tiny bit), blood magic, Sauron is a bit of a dick towards the end, sorry, accidental prey/predator kink, knifeplay (again, tiny bit), grinding, slightly dubious consent (you do want it, but I'll tag anyway), oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, more blood.
A/N: little bit of jumping around in this one, sorry, we start just after the wedding, then we jump to the fall of Gondolin, a little magic ritual in the middle, then the fallout from the sinking of Beleriand (why do you keep getting caught up in this??), then we close out the First Age with a little argument before someone's coronation! Little slices of their romance in quick succession! I went a little experimental in the form of this one, with a bunch of flashbacks informing the main plot at the end. I hope it works 🤞
Special thanks to @olchr-1 for the idea for our revenge on Morgoth!!
Translation note: Amartherui translates in Sindarin to "lonely fate" [Fate (amarth) Alone (erui)]
Word Count: 6k!
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Fingers entwined with his, head on his chest, you were enthralled by him, by every pretty word and sweet gesture. Every time he came to visit, you would spend days on end in your secluded glade, to make up for his inexplicably long periods of absence. Sometimes he would come to you with dizzying tales of his latest triumphs, preening under your undivided attention. But lately he had taken to returning under black clouds, tetchy where he was usually playful, and rough where gentleness once reigned.
You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north. You had kin fighting the armies of Morgoth, and knew his sorrows all too well, but something behind his eyes told you it was more than he was letting on.
You weave strands of his hair into elaborate braids in your lap, before undoing them and creating something greater in their stead. He eventually quiets under your idle fiddling, eyes drifting shut with a contented smile gracing his face, like a cat napping in the afternoon sun. You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.
You gaze down at his unearthly smooth features and trace each contour with your eyes; your fingers slow in their busy work, moving gently across his scalp, lazily twisting his hair around your finger, making a ring to match the one he'd gifted you, ornate and bejeweled, glittering with an impossible inner light, to replace the woven band of purple iris that he'd improvised on the night of your wedding.
"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.
"Is a wife not allowed to stare at her husband? Are there no privileges to marriage at all?" Your voice is soft but your tone is mischievous, and he smirks.
"I can think of a few, ah, privileges, dearest, in fact we have exercised a few already today." He raises his eyebrows, before pulling you down to meet his lips. "But if you need reminding, you need only ask."
-
You had agreed to meet in the same secluded glade at the next new moon, but he never showed. The hours you wasted awaiting his return were at first exciting, full of electric anticipation that only love's first bloom can give. As the moon slowly passed overhead, and twinkling stars gave way to blazing sun, you shed many a tear at your folly. Perhaps he had been some mirage, an illusion to tempt you? Or perhaps the depth of his feeling did not match yours, a fleeting thought you had to bury deep in case it irrevocably shattered your heart.
You frequent the glade every so often, convincing yourself that it was a perfectly fine place to pass your time, and that you were not reminded of his warm hands or even warmer smile, every time you visit. Deceiving yourself that it meant much less to you than it did, that if he returned now after so much time with no word or warning, you would not jump into his open arms without a second thought.
Your heartache is apparent to your friends and kin, who assume you're suffering the grief they all feel, having lost so many of their kind to Morgoth's rampage in the north. How little they knew; how little you knew.
It is only when one good friend mentions the siege at Angband, that you are struck with the terrible notion that the man you cursed for abandoning you, might not have done it willingly after all. That perhaps, Valar forbid, he had perished in the siege. He had mentioned fighting in the war after all, but you had not connected that with his absence. After all, he had promised to return to you, on the morning after you had met, having shared a blissful slumber in each other's arms. He held your hands to his lips and swore he would see you again, and now it makes sense. Now you have a real reason to grieve, you realise, and the anger roiling within you turns cold, an icy pit in your stomach as tears fall freely and your heart wrenches and cracks. You were to only have one night with him, and you might never even discover his true fate.
You reason with yourself that surely you would feel if the other half of you had flown this mortal plain. But the alternative was much crueler, and to believe him dead was somehow a less hopeless fate.
Centuries later when you look back, you curse yourself for not seeing who he was, and what he'd done, but how could you? He'd taken you as his own and that was such a strong spell to break, Eru himself would have had to step in.
-
To see your city fall at the hands of your husband’s master, you had no words, only wet hot tears as you watch your people die.
"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.
"I can't, I can't leave them, I have to find-"
"No, we're evacuating, you're not staying a minute longer. I should not have let you linger here when He appeared on the horizon, we should have-"
You tug your arm from his vice-like grip. "Should have what? Should have left my people to wrack and ruin? We have to..." Your mind is so murky, filled with thoughts of leaving, running as far as you can with him, despite your overwhelming urge to stay and help where you can.
"We have to leave. You know there is nothing we can do for them, He will leave none alive, and I won't have you-" he can't say it, he can't even entertain the notion of you coming to harm; his fingers tighten their grip, almost painful in their desperation.
He should have foreseen this, he should have gotten you to safety when he first had an inkling that his master finally knew where the Hidden City was.
"We have to go back, I need to go back, I can't leave-"
After a thousand years, his magic had kept your tiny wedding band of iris in full bloom, untouched by the passage of time, kept safe in an ornate gilded chest, made by his own fair hands. And it was sitting in your apartments on the other side of the city, where your kin doubtless waited for you to leave with them. The sentiment in your heart held you steadfast against his shaking and pleading.
"Love, we can't stay here-" he is interrupted by explosions overhead, as the enemy host draw closer.
"You don't understand-"
"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter, you're the only thing that matters. We have to go!" He never raises his voice to you, so you're a little dumbstruck when he growls at you.
"But we have to save them!" You stop in your tracks, feet rooted to the ground, indignant at the idea of abandoning your friends and neighbours to their doom.
"Amarië," his voice is suddenly so soft, it disquiets you, brings you back to the present. "Love, they're gone. There is no saving to be done."
Sauron is a stranger to remorse, to sorrow, but at the effect of his words, a pang of guilt sweeps through him when he tells you that in all the world, he is all you have now. He tries to ignore the warm thrill he feels in the pit of his stomach, that this great cataclysm has brought about the fate he always wanted for the two of you: just you and he, no one else to rob him of your attention.
You wanted to feel deeply all the grief and pain that one would expect at being told their life was over.
Instead you just felt numb, haunted by the consequences of his actions.
-
"I curse him." Your husband's eyes grow wide at your words, grasping your hands as if to quiet you, but you press on.
"I curse Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, to roam this earth alone. To never know peace, to never know that which he so jealously craves."
You feel you're taking Morgoth's curse rather well, all things considered. Sauron had to beg you not to storm Angband yourself after he had told you of his master's new name for you, cursing you to a forsaken existence, sundering you from your husband in all but spirit.
You had fought your way back to him countless times, and he to you; you had both vowed to continue to do so, but the rage and grief had not lessened with time, stoked to a towering inferno of wrath that threatened to break you any time you were reminded of it.
And after the fall of Gondolin, your rage at the Enemy was insatiable.
So you had your revenge.
"Enemy. Tyrant. Now I name you again."
In the dead of night, flickering candlelight casting ominous shadows over your face, Sauron cannot help but admire you, crave you, as you corrupt his master's fate.
You slice open your hand, squeezing your palm over the parchment before you, watching as crimson splashes through the stark black lettering.
Amartherui.
"Help me." You look him in the eye, your simple plea making his chest ache; he has never said no to you, his sweet wife, but this is the first time he has been tempted.
"Amarië..." his soft sigh almost convinces you to abandon your plan, but the fury bubbling in your veins is too great.
"Beloved, will you help me or not? Your power would bring this curse to fruition, but if you will have no part in it, you should leave." You stand taller, drawing yourself up to match his gaze, impossible as that may seem.
"I have never asked you for anything. Please do this for me."
The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.
You smile, a weight lifting from your shoulders instantly, and you pull him down to kiss him hard, leaving a red streak on his neck.
"I name you, Morgoth, as my people have long titled you, Amartherui." His new name falls off your tongue like a dream, and you cannot help but smile, your wicked deed complete, as you set the parchment alight, the flames glowing a sickly grey-green as the candles flicker and the room darkens, long shadows growing where the light had tentatively reigned.
"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."
In the back of your mind, there is some semblance of guilt. There is nothing good in the act you just performed, nothing virtuous or pure in your revenge; it's cold and calculated, vicious and spiteful.
Transcending the bounds of time and space, you can feel your curse has taken effect, something shifting in the air between you and your husband.
Sauron has never loved you more, and he shows you many times that night the depth of his feelings.
-
You watch as more refugees stagger into your haven with naught more than the clothes on their backs, waiting to help and heal and offer your comfort where you can. The war has left such a dreadful path of destruction in its wake; thousands of your kin are displaced as the host of the Valar battle their way to Angband, and your people had chosen where the river Sirion meets the sea as their secret haven.
It has been decades since the armies of Valinor first arrived on the shores of Middle Earth, and the end was drawing near, according to your husband, who was waiting with you in the safety of the havens and watching closely.
"I'll see you when I'm finished here," you whisper as you reach up to plant a kiss on your husband's lips. "It'll probably be late, don't wait up for me."
He gives you an affectionate smile; how could he not wait for you? Even if he did partake in sleep, he would not be able to rest without you at his side.
"I'll be up, return to me soon." He is reluctant to let you go, but your skills are in such dire need while the city is inundated with the sick and injured.
Before the War, it was uncommon for Elves to suffer such fates, being hardy in soul and body, but Morgoth's darkness had infiltrated much of the land and infected so many of your kin. Soldiers, innocent bystanders, there were hardly any who were unaffected, and fighting the darkness was a constant effort on your part, and the team of healers you had trained in the magics of your people.
"My lady, they are calling for you." The herald's voice shakes you from Sauron's gaze, and he huffs impatiently.
"I must go." You reluctantly begin to pull away, but he draws you back, pulling you close and wrapping you up in an embrace you could cling to for an age.
"I love you," he murmurs in your ear. "When this is all over, we shall establish the greatest kingdom this land has ever seen."
"If there is a land left." You try to remain hopeful but the news of the siege at Angband is never good, never hopeful, and you fear your home will never be free of Morgoth's influence.
"I am your home," your husband, your Mairon, reminds you, tracing your cheek softly, and you cannot help but return his radiant smile.
"I know, love, as I am yours." You press a soft kiss to his knuckles, taking the strength he offers, before departing to disperse your light where you can.
The darkness infects everything it touches, and it takes all of your energy and more to renew your broken and weary kin, who have travelled so far and fought so hard to reach the havens. Healing words and ancient spells woven into soft songs, settling over the city in a melodic shield, rejuvenating the minds and bodies of your people. You work late into the night, spreading the light where you can, easing the pitch black horror in the hearts of those who had seen the worst of Morgoth's endeavours.
The night is all-encompassing when you finally crawl into bed, nestling into Mairon's firm warmth, trying not to disturb him but feeling sweet relief when his hands trace your sides in greeting.
"I was going to come look for you," his deep voice rumbles in your chest as he presses himself against you.
"No need," you try to smile, but your voice cracks as his tenderness breaks your defences, and all the heartache of the day pours out of you like blood from a wound.
His heart wrenches. He has no business feeling such emotions as remorse, but once again you have him feeling in ways that he dislikes intensely.
"I'm sorry, my love." And he is. He is actually sorry for causing you pain, the rest of Middle Earth be damned.
You sigh and take his hand, holding it over your heart.
"I know, love." You ponder your next question, whether it is a good idea to ask, but you ask anyway.
"You cannot assist in the efforts against Him? I'm sure the Valar would be grateful for your help, might even look favourably upon you-"
He interrupts you with a sigh and a kiss to your neck.
"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."
Of course, he has thought about begging clemency, thought about fleeing with you to the edges of the world, even thought of taking you back to his master. But in the end, it was more prudent to keep you safe, and to watch and wait for the triumphant side to reveal themselves. Better to beg forgiveness from the victor than choose the wrong side.
-
"Tell me I'm wrong." You dare him to speak against you, your voice shaking in anger as your fists clench.
"My love, I-"
"No, I don't want falsehoods, I don't want games or lies or deceit, just tell me. Did you go to Eönwë as you promised?"
"I did. And I found their response wanting." In truth he had tried to make amends, tried to do penance for the ages he'd spent in Morgoth's service, but when it came to approaching Manwë for his pardon, his fear overtook him and he fled back to Angband, but he couldn't tell you that, couldn't tell you he'd been weak, pitiful, his courage failing him at the final steps to absolution.
And he definitely couldn't tell you that in order for his pardon to be granted, he would have to give you up, to avoid blackening your soul any further.
He'd rather suffer your eternal wrath than be sundered from you for even a moment.
"So you traded forgiveness for more lies." You clench your jaw, your head beginning to pound, the subtle throb becoming a stabbing pain in your temple.
"I did it for you."
"How? How is this for me?" You mock him, incensed now that he would deflect his deceit onto you.
He stands to comfort you but you rip your hands from his grasp before he can claim you.
"I do not know what to say. I thought I knew you, I thought you would do the right thing." You shake your head and laugh, your scorn stinging him as if it were a poisoned blade.
"Love, please-"
"No! No more lies. I've had it with trickery and deception, I want out." You whirl around to face him. "Shadow of Morgoth, they call you. You gather his armies to you once more, you refired his crown! So is that what you want? Do you want to be his second coming?"
In all honesty, no. His master's plans were beneath him; Morgoth wanted to break the world, Sauron wanted to reshape it, to balance and perfect it, by any means necessary.
"Please, listen to me, I need you by my side, now more than ever." He clutches your hands, heart pounding, looking deeply into your eyes, willing you to fall for his pretty words once more.
"You didn't answer me." Tears begin to prick your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall in front of him, stepping back to take a deep breath, to steady your nerves to face the man you thought you loved.
"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.
"Don't. Don't do that." You whisper, as he stalks toward you slowly, his deception burning a hole in your heart that you're sure will never be filled.
"Don't you want to be with me? For all eternity, that is what we always said." He circles you, hands on your shoulders, in your hair, overwhelming you with his lover's touch, just a mite too rough.
"Not if this is your plan. I didn't marry Morgoth, I married Mairon." Sauron, your mind reminds you, and for a second you feel a wave of nausea overwhelm you.
His face twists and he pulls away.
"That is not my name." He growls, an ugly grimace taking over his lovely features.
"I've told you before, don't look inside my head!" You retort, his presence in your mind suddenly overwhelmingly obvious.
You throw him out of your mind, slamming the door shut, refusing him access to that which would be so freely given if he deserved it.
The tic in his jaw is back with a vengeance and his eyes are ablaze with a fury the like of which you have never seen.
"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.
"I chose you, of all your people, as my wife; I could have had anyone, but I chose you. Aulë’s greatest smith, Melkor's most trusted lieutenant, lord of all the dark things that creep and crawl in this world. And who are you? My beloved wife." His tone is like poison in your veins, burning and spitting fire in your heart.
Who are you? He's right; who the hell do you think you are?
"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."
You shall not be forsaken this time, not that doing the forsaking feels any sweeter. It wrenches every fibre of your being, your heart pounding in your chest, but you make it to the door of his chambers, hand on the doorknob, before he breaks from his stunned daze, crosses the room and clasps his hand over yours on the cool metal.
"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.
"I cannot stay here, not now that I know exactly what you are." You look up at him, holding his gaze, somehow fighting the urge to scratch and claw and bite your way free like a feral animal, suddenly overwhelmed with the sense that you should run as hard and fast as you can.
His eyes betray nothing, his lips curving into a condescending smirk, as he runs a finger down your cheek, gathering the tears you'd fought not to shed. He examines them as if he'd never seen their like, as if they were precious stones from the depths of the earth, mined just for him; he licks his fingers clean, turning his attention back to you, trembling under him as he cages you against the door.
"Please... please let me go." The look in his eye says begging will be useless, but you try anyway.
"You are my Queen. You're free to do as you please." He replies, voice smooth, with a pretty smirk and that predatory glint in his eye that would usually thrill you so, that still sends hot arousal pooling between your thighs, mixed with icy cold terror.
"It would please me to leave," you try to appeal to him, softening your voice, lowering your gaze.
"I'm sure it would..." he utters breathlessly as he takes you in, leaning over you, watching the artery in your throat jump in time to his own racing heartbeat.
"Mairon... please..." His lips are on yours before you can finish your plea, his hands tangled in your hair.
He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.
"Even now, your body betrays you, my love."
You sigh against him, fingers raking his hair roughly, letting him caress your neck, your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he tries to expose you to his gaze. His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.
"That was my favourite," you admonish him, still angry with him; even as he takes you apart with his fingers and his tongue, you can't forget his plans, and you certainly can't ignore his gift to you, sitting by the window in all their glory.
Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. When you'd seen them, your blood ran cold, as you realised that once again, you'd been victim to Sauron’s deception.
"You will have a thousand more, dearest wife, whatever your heart desires," he promises breathlessly as he shucks off your dress, sliding it down your body, worshipping you with the lightest touch, soft kisses peppering your skin as he disrobes you. He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure.
You gasp, throwing your head back, as he spreads your legs to access your entrance, splitting you open with two fingers, still drawing every moan and whimper from your throat as he circles your clit, licking long strokes, tiny laps at your skin, letting you ride his face in your lustful haze. You grip his hair more roughly than you normally would, your wrath seeping into your lust, until you can't detect the distinction between the two.
He takes one of your legs and places it on his shoulder, letting you rest against him, both of you totally at the other's mercy. Such trust, such devotion, would you throw that away? Would you truly abandon him?
He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.
Your mind is racing as tendrils of his power cling to your lips, fighting for entrance to quiet your thoughts, and replace them with his sweet music. Wouldn't it just be easier? To let the darkness in?
You might as well, you muse in the back of your head, thoughts displaced by pleasure as the darkness feasts upon you.
He's solely focused on you; there is nowhere he would rather be in all of Arda. The unblemished shores of Valinor, the white trees that used to light the world, he can finally understand why his master was so hellbent on their destruction. For there is no beauty that should merit a comparison to you, and he would raze these lands to the ground to prove it.
You're drawing close, he realises, and briefly wonders whether to allow you your release on his lips.
You feel him pull away and moan, a tiny pitiful sound that makes him chuckle; of course you need him, of course you can't be without him, even in anger. Victory is nigh, and he pulls himself out of his robes to claim you once again.
He pushes you back, your name on the tip of his tongue, as he takes you in, breathes your air.
"You're mine," he growls, nuzzling your neck to better scent you. "Say it, say you'll always be mine."
"I will," you murmur softly, tears pricking your eyes as you hold him close.
"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."
He claims you in one thrust, filling you so completely, so sweetly, that you see stars, your breath stolen from your lungs as if it were the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him.
Your heart wrenches, pulling towards his, despite your entire being screaming at you.
You kiss him harder, your mind quietened as he bites your lip, droplets of blood wetting his tongue, quickening his insatiable need to be inside you in every way that is possible; mind, body, soul, all inextricably entwined.
The tears in your eyes threaten to fall, but you blink them back as he rocks into you, the chorus of your lovemaking drowning out all other notions. He plays you so well, a master in the art of drawing sweet melody from your lips; the harmony you both create together is unmatched to his ears, a Maia who helped sing the world into being.
A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.
You feel him stiffen against you, his melody reaching a crescendo before yours, as he fills you with his pleasure, low groans in your ear bringing you to your peak as well. He wrings every last moan out of you, drawing out the coda of your song until there are no more notes to be played, no more pleasure to be taken.
Sweat-slicked and exhausted, you hold each other close, entwined so perfectly. You let him carry you to his bed, laying you down reverently, climbing in beside you and nestling you close, arms wrapping you tightly, refusing to let you move from his grasp.
You'd usually find such comfort in his embrace, but tonight there is an itch under your skin that his touch only amplifies, making you fight not to squirm beside him.
You cannot sleep for fear of letting him inside your head again, so when a knock at the door comes, you welcome it.
He sighs, long and loud in your ear, as evidence of his displeasure.
"I'll be back, love, there are matters I must attend to."
"Of course," you smile, fighting to make it meet your eyes.
He regards you carefully, brow furrowed.
"Do not fear, my love," he says softly as he leans down to kiss you once more. "I won't be long."
As he departs, he gives you one final look of longing, which you hasten to return with all the eagerness you can muster.
The door clicks shut, your expression falls, and you immediately disentangle yourself from the sheets,
Finding obscene amounts of your clothing and jewellery, and books beyond measure in his room was no surprise. He must have been preparing for this for years, if not longer.
Now that Morgoth was gone, the next phase of his plan could move forward, and that involved you, his Queen, taking up her rightful residence.
You dress as quickly as you're able, taking only what you can carry, and go to leave. But you notice a small ornate chest you thought you'd lost when Gondolin fell, sitting on the dresser by his bed as if it had always belonged there.
You feel as if you've been stabbed, a gut-wrenching heartache overwhelming you as you can do nothing but stand and stare.
He went back for it. He kept it all this time.
Your feet move of their own accord, and before you can blink, you've opened the chest, staring at the impossible artefact of your love for each other.
Unfurled purple petals, revealing a stark white centre, the woven band appearing as fresh as it did on the day he married you.
You hold it up, comparing it to the ring you currently wear. He really had somehow captured its likeness in a jewel, deep purple revealing a bright light in its centre, framed by ornate silver details.
You cannot bring yourself to slip it on, after all that has happened, his lies and broken promises, but you are loath to leave it.
Movement outside his chambers sends a shiver of panic through you, and you quickly move to hide behind the door. The subsequent banging has you quaking but you stand your ground, waiting for whomever it is to leave.
The door abruptly swings open, and you hear two gravelly voices discussing... you?
"Mistress?" The first call is softer, but their annoyance quickly becomes apparent as the other chimes in.
"Where is she then? They said to fetch her, but I'm not traipsing all over to find some she-Elf-"
"He won't even notice, Adar says he's too caught up in all his planning and his speeches, who cares about one missing Elf?"
"He wants them at least, over there. He'll have your head if we forget-"
"Why my head? You're the one he told-"
"Shut it and take 'em, careful now, there's magic in it still..."
Their voices fade as they shuffle back the way they came. As the door slams shut again, you realise that your husband already has an army of orcs at his disposal, and you reconsider what you're about to do, but only briefly.
Escaping the fortress is more of a task than you thought, requiring all the skills of subterfuge and swordplay that your husband has ever taught you; which is no small feat, considering the centuries you've had to learn.
Quietly slipping through the fortress mostly unnoticed, leaving the odd corpse in your wake as your husband's servants cross your path, unfortunately for them.
Thankfully the halls are mostly deserted, and you hear a clamour coming from deeper within, but you try to pay it no mind, focusing on your exit and nothing more.
It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.
-
It is in the middle of his speech, appealing to his army for their continued support, that Sauron notices you are absent.
He'd sent for you when his moment of victory seemed nigh at hand, and had assumed you were readying yourself for your ascent, but now that he had persuaded Adar and his children to his cause, the sight of your face was all he wanted to see.
As he knelt before Adar, awaiting his rightful crown, he searched for you in his mind's eye. He did not expect to find you outside the black gates, breathing a sigh of relief in the watery sunlight.
A surge of rage overtook him as he clenched his jaw, settling on his knees. The mere thought of your abandonment had always made his heart twist and shatter, and at that moment, he had no heart. Just a void where it used to be.
Distracted by your torment, he barely noticed the first blow, as Adar struck him again and again with the crown that was meant to define your future together.
As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.
-
A great blast of freezing cold air knocks you off your feet, and for a second you thought you heard his voice on the wind. It's all you can do to just lie there, covered in frost and shaking, trying to assess if you're at least physically intact, your emotional state another matter entirely.
Clutching your head as blood trickles down your face, you shakily get to your feet. It is as if someone has emptied the heavens of all its snow where before there was nothing but arid plains. The air is suddenly glacial, the ground frozen and cracking underfoot.
It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.
You thought you might feel free when you were rid of him, but all you feel is empty, yearning for a presence that has haunted you for millennia.
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ktkpopping · 2 days ago
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Burn
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summary: following a devastating breakup, your best friend Mingi helps you to put yourself back together
Hello again!! This fic was inspired solely by how Mingi says “burn it” in Outlaw. I heard it and immediately had the thought that it would make a cool fic idea. If you like some angst and a lot of hurt/comfort, then this is the fic for you!!
This fic can be read as gender-neutral! There are no identifying traits to mc or their ex-partner.
warnings: depictions of depression and anxiety throughout the story. This is a fic following a nasty breakup and the mc struggles in the aftermath.
pairing: best friend Mingi x reader
genres: heavy angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
word count: 8.8k
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60850432
———
You sat there stunned, unable to comprehend the words displayed before you on the screen.
LOML💕
It’s over, I found someone else
Sorry y/n
Your person, or who you THOUGHT was your person, had found someone else??
As you stood there in your apartment, your phone fell from your hands as you dropped to your knees, sitting there unseeing at the linoleum floor as you tried to process the abrupt end of your relationship.
How were you supposed to move on?
You wondered if you’d ever be able to stop crying, or if your eyes would ever cease to be swollen.
It’s been weeks since your breakup, yet you still felt the pure anguish and heartache, which were slowly fading their way into anger. How could they do this to you?
Two years of time wasted on someone who had the utter AUDACITY to callously end your relationship VIA TEXT MESSAGE because they had “found somebody else.”
What the fuck? The texts were a blow to your self esteem and you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover. You hated what those words made you see in the mirror–someone unworthy of anyone’s time.
How could someone who had claimed to love you exhibit such cowardice? Had you really known them at all? How long had this dalliance been going on? Did they cheat? Was it physical or emotional?
Dark clouds loomed in your mind as you spiraled and felt more tears leak out.
What was the point in anything? You stayed in bed and refused to shower because you were just going to get dirty again. You didn’t have the energy to stand upright for that long anyway. Staying here in bed was your safe haven, and you didn’t want to move.
Burying your face into your pillow you screamed until your voice was hoarse and you felt a little dizzy, hoping that the exhaustion and misery would overtake you.
That’s how your best friend, Mingi, found you. Laying face down and sniffling on a messy bed and a floor covered in tissues, takeout wrappers, and dirty clothes, while attempting to dry your tears on the sleeve of your oversized hoodie. Probably one of Mingi’s old ones, if he had to guess.
Mingi was the only person besides your partner, well, ex-partner, that had a key to your place. He made a mental note to remind you to change the locks, though he doubted the fucker would ever come back here for any reason.
Mingi couldn’t help but feel his heart clench painfully at the sight of his best friend in this state. It looked like you had barely moved in days. You deserved so much better than someone who would throw you to the side so easily.
He cleared his throat in an attempt to get your attention, but you were too far gone in your anguish to hear him. Tentatively, he ventured closer and tried again. This time, you heard his deep cough and turned your heavy head toward the sound.
His eyes found yours and softened even more at the heartbroken expression on your face. He came closer and you felt the bed dip as he sat his large frame close to you.
You abruptly shifted and flung yourself into his arms, hearing him exhale an “oof” at the unexpected contact, but quickly locking his arms around you in a comforting embrace.
You sobbed harder into his chest as he tucked your head under his chin and began rubbing his large hands up and down your back in a comforting motion.
The two of you stayed like this for a while until your heaving sobs quieted into soft sniffles, his grip on you never relenting.
“How could they do this to me, Min? I know it’s been weeks, I just can’t—I can’t fucking believe they ended it this way!! Found someone ‘better’,” you scoffed. “What the fuck does that even mean?!? Did I really mean so little to them?”
The tears welled up as your breaths became uneven again.
You and Mingi had had this conversation before, but it was clear it would take a while to come to terms with the reality of the situation. Mingi’s heart continued to break for you, but he vowed that he’d always be by your side and he’d do his damndest to help you get through it.
You could feel the rumble of his deep voice against you as he spoke. “It’s cliche to say, but they’re not fucking worth it. I know in the back of your mind you know this and you probably don’t want to hear it right now, but it’s true.”
You choked out what sounded like a scoff.
“I know. I KNOW. But like…I just…I loved them. I LOVED them. Did they even love me? They’ve made me feel so fucking worthless and I don’t know why I can’t just let it go!” you wailed into his chest.
He tightened his hold around you. “You don’t have to justify your feelings to me, you’re entitled to feel however you want about that jackass. I’m not the one to dictate how you grieve or process. I’m just here, as your best friend, to hold you and help you through it. I always will be,” he murmured above you.
Your tears spilled out a little faster and you sniffled into his chest. “What would I ever do without you, Min? I can’t believe I have you in my life sometimes.”
You and Mingi had known each other for well over a decade, having attended high school together and remaining close friends through college and the start of your careers.
You honestly don’t know how you would’ve made it this far without him.
———
“Mingi, promise me we’ll stick together no matter what. You’re my best friend in this whole world,” you stated, staring up at the stars with Mingi sitting next to you in the bed of his beat-up pickup.
“Of course y/n, I’ll always be with you. You’re my best friend too.”
And that’s how you always were. A package deal. Two peas in a pod, inseparable, but not in a way that makes the people around you uncomfortable. You and Mingi were the type of friends who could pull anyone in and make them feel like they’ve known you their whole lives.
You were eternally grateful for Mingi and his steadfast friendship, a strong and enduring presence in your life.
Him supporting you at events in high school, you in turn sticking with him in his obsession with e-sports and the quarterly decision to become a gym rat, giving up a mere 3 weeks later.
Him being a protective big brother at frat parties when someone got a little too handsy with you when he could see the distress plainly on your face.
You willing to go to war for him when some girl led him on and bruised his ego for a while one semester.
He was your best friend, your ride or die.
And you hoped it would always stay that way.
———
In the back of your mind you wondered if your friendship with Mingi had played into a hidden insecurity with your partner. Were they threatened? You were together for two years, if they were feeling insecure or threatened, why didn’t they vocalize it?
Little did you know, Mingi wondered the same thing. He hadn’t hated your ex until now, but they had treated you well and had never given any indication that they were a shitty partner or that your friendship with him had been a sore spot. The reasoning for leaving you really confounded him.
Noting your silence and sensing your impending spiral, Mingi squeezed you again to bring you back to the present and forced your focus back onto the feeling of his strong arms around you and his large frame pressed against your side.
You heaved out a sigh. “I still have so much of their shit here in the apartment, not to mention all the fucking photos we’d taken together. What am I supposed to do with it all? I don’t want to see that asshole’s face ever again if I can help it.”
“Burn it,” came Mingi’s casual reply.
You had to wonder if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, did you say BURN it?”
“Yeah, I did. Burn it,” you could feel his shrug as he shifted around you.
Turning to look up at him with disbelief in your eyes, you met his intense gaze with an incredulous one of your own.
“I can’t just BURN everything! There’s gotta be some fire code against that or something. Like how the fuck am I supposed to burn a PlayStation??” You remarked, exasperated. “I didn’t know you had a penchant for pyromania!”
Mingi chuckled in his rich, husky tone. “I was referring to the photos, maybe some of their clothes. We can either throw the rest at them or pawn it. Your choice, really, he hummed. “I just think it would be cathartic for you to set fire to some of the physical memories as a way of letting go. Perhaps even a phoenix-esque rebirth for you.”
You mulled over his suggestion.
“You don’t have to decide right now, I think you need to take some time to think about it and really allow yourself time to begin the moving on process,” he spoke into your hairline.
Mingi knew you were depressed, the state of your room and your mental wellbeing a clear indication to him. He knew exactly how it felt to hit rock bottom and feel so helpless, with zero motivation to do as much as even lifting your arms. He really wanted to be there for you as you had always been there for him during his bouts of depression and anxiety.
“In the meantime, you’ve been cooped up here in your room for far too long. I know how hard it is to break out of a despair so heavy, but you should take a shower and maybe brush your teeth to allow yourself to feel refreshed. I can help you with whatever you need, even if it means lifting the toothbrush myself. Hell, I could help you shower if you wanted. I don’t care. If you don’t want that, then I can help you clean up in here a bit. What would you prefer?”
He continued to rub soothing circles into your back and thigh as you considered his offer. “I’ll even carry you to the bathroom myself if that makes the decision easier.”
You sighed heavily and tightened your grip on him which indicated to him that you were going to take him up on this offer, so he kept his hold around your shoulders and scooped you up under your legs to bring you to your ensuite bathroom.
He deposited you on the counter and turned to look for your hair brush, hoping to work some of the knots out of your slightly matted hair before your shower. He found a comb, settling beside you to gently begin the detangling process. He worked in silence, being as thorough as possible without tugging too hard and causing you pain. You allowed him to work as you felt yourself zoning out and staring at the tile.
Eventually, he worked out the tangles and turned to start the shower. “Would you like me to help you shower, or do you think you can handle it yourself? If you want my help, I can bring you a bathing suit if that would make you more comfortable.”
“Mingi, we’ve both seen each other in extremely compromising positions in our years of friendship, I don’t care if you see my ass or any other bits for that matter, but I would love your help. I…just really don’t have the energy to hold myself up at this point.”
Nodding, Mingi moved to help divest you of your clothing, followed by his own. He turned back toward the shower to test the temperature, deeming it acceptable and then once again hoisted you into his arms to step into the shower.
Placing you gently under the spray, he set about looking for your face wash to start. He squirted some into your palm. “I don’t want to get any in your eyes, I know you can do this one,” he cooed softly at you, bringing your hands up to lather your face. As if on autopilot, you washed the buildup of oil and dried tears from your face and allowed the water to cascade over you.
Once you were finished, you turned back toward Mingi and he resumed his search of your products to locate your shampoo. Placing a suitable amount between his large palms, he turned you back around so that you were facing the spray and began to work his large hands through your hair and massaging your scalp.
You let out a contented hum as he massaged, shuddering a little at the feeling of his hands as they circled near your nape. Once he deemed suitable, he turned you back around to place your head under the spray as he let the water run through and wash away the suds. He continued to lightly massage his fingers through your now-clean hair, which left you uttering another contented sigh at the feeling.
Next, he went for the conditioner and turned you back around so that he could work the product through your ends. Once satisfied, he rinsed off his hands and reached for your silicone loofah, globbing body wash onto it and setting out to scrub the grime and dead skin off of you. He remained gentle as he worked his way up and down your body, nudging your legs apart at one point to wash between them. Following that, he detached the shower head and began rinsing you off, washing away however many days of wallowing and with it, some of the tension you had been feeling since you woke up that morning.
You leaned yourself back against Mingi and he wrapped his arms around you, once again locking you in a tight embrace as the water cascaded over the two of you, encasing you in a brief reprieve and moment of serenity.
As the water started to run tepid, Mingi turned off the tap and led you out of the stall to wrap you in a massive fluffy towel to dry you off. He worked diligently on you before grabbing another towel for himself and wrapping it around his waist.
“Wait here, I’m going to go strip your sheets and re-make your bed so that you have something clean to lay on.”
He left the room and you heard him banging around your closest looking for your clean sheets. Once again, you found yourself zoning out. You don’t know how long he was gone, but eventually you saw his blurred frame in front of you, snapping you back into the present and forcing your eyes up to his.
He reached out to caress the side of your face while holding your gaze. “Would you like me to help you brush your teeth, or do you think you can handle it yourself?”
Feeling a little bit less in your own head, you decided that you could handle this task yourself. You turned toward the sink and reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste to slowly rid your teeth of plaque and freshen your breath. You were slowly feeling a little more alive than previously thanks to Mingi.
Once you finished and rinsed your mouth out, you turned back towards Mingi and he offered you a hand, leading you gently out of the bathroom and back toward your room.
You noticed that he had thrown away all the trash and put your dirty clothes in the basket. Feeling your eyes well up a little bit, you turned to Mingi to thank him for his kindness and all his help.
“You don’t need to thank me. I know you would do the same for me if the situation were reversed. I’m happy to do anything you need to help you feel like yourself again,” he replied in a soft tone, hand once again moving to cup your face.
You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch for a moment, relishing in the comfort only Mingi could provide. Parting after a moment, you shifted back onto your bed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything settle on you, feeling utterly spent.
“Rest for a while. I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.” Mingi climbed in after you to settle against the headboard and help you into the blankets. You curled onto your side to face him as you got comfortable.
“Really, truly, thank you Mingi. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” His words echoing in your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep.
———
The next few weeks progressed with Mingi spending as much time as he could with you. You were able to get medical leave from work for another week to allow for a little more time to recover.
You and Mingi would spend evenings on your couch snuggled up and watching dramas and some of your favorite movies, and he would cook a delicious meal almost every night. Tonight, you and Mingi were curled up under a few blankets with bowls of stew.
“Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do with your ex’s things?” asked Mingi between mouthfuls of food.
Swallowing your food, you tried to remember if you had heard from your ex in the previous weeks. Not remembering anything of note, you shook your head.
“They surprisingly haven’t asked for any of their shit back, so I’m not really sure if it needs to be an urgent matter or not. Frankly, I don’t care what they want because they broke my heart and deserve to rot.”
He chuckled. “Damn, brutal.”
You smirked back at him and took another bite of stew, reveling in the comfort of having your best friend here with you.
As you ate, you looked over at Mingi. His eyes were focused on the screen and you just took him in as he sat there. You were so grateful for him, you wouldn’t want anyone else as your best friend.
He must have felt you staring and he shifted his gaze back to yours.
“Do I have something on my face?”
You giggled at him as he smirked.
“Yeah, you do,” you said as you placed your bowl down and grabbed a throw pillow before launching it toward him.
Luckily, his reflexes were quick and he caught the pillow midair before it could smack him.
“Oh you’re gonna pay for that one alright” he chuckled in a dangerous tone.
Eyes wide, you stood up quickly and bolted down the hallway toward your bedroom. Mingi followed after you, catching up in just a few long strides. Damn his long legs, you were no match for his pace.
He grabbed around your waist and threw you over his shoulder as you kicked your legs and slapped at his shoulders.
“Put me down you big dummy!”
“Do you yield?” he asked as you dangled helplessly, flailing in an attempt to be put down, but Mingi’s grip did not relent.
“Fine, fine!! I yield! Please put me down now!”
He gently set you back on your feet as you felt the blood rush back down from your face after being upside down.
You caught your breath and Mingi just continued to smirk at you with small chuckles.
“You’re a bold one, that’s for sure,” he intoned in his deep drawl.
You turned to glare at him, but were unable to maintain the expression as you looked at the goofy grin on your best friend’s face. You ended up doubling over to laugh, leaning forward to catch Mingi in a hug.
“Come on big guy, let’s go back to the couch and finish our show.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward your nest of blankets on the couch, settling back into the comfortable silence.
At some point you must have drifted off, because you wake to a darkened room and a blanket placed over you. You blink a few times and let your eyes adjust to the low light and see a note on the table.
I put away the leftovers and washed the dishes. I would’ve stayed but I have an early meeting tomorrow so I needed to head home. I’ll be around all week if you need something or want to hang out. Let me know if the idiot contacts you, I’ll be there with a lighter.
xx Min
You smiled at his barely legible script. Yeah, you really were lucky to have him as your best friend.
———
Another few weeks pass without contact from your ex. You were becoming comfortable with the idea that they genuinely didn’t care about whatever they left at your apartment, and had almost forgotten they left anything here at all.
You were finally able to go back to work, feeling a little less like the world was going to cave in on you. The despair you had previously felt morphed into righteous anger, then transformed again into a bit of numbness. But it was enough to make you forget about your failed relationship and return to a relative normalcy.
Evenings were still spent with Mingi, either at your place or his as he continued to find ways to help keep you and your mind occupied.
It was one night a week later as you were both sitting on opposite ends of your couch. You were sketching in a notebook and Mingi was reading a graphic novel, glasses perched on his nose and hair a little ruffled as if he had been absently running his fingers through it.
It was an adorable habit of his, messing up his hair as he focused on something. You smiled to yourself as you peered at him, looking back down to continue sketching.
You had lost yourself in the moment until you heard your phone go off. Thinking nothing of it, you flipped it over, blood immediately running cold at the familiar number on the screen.
Mingi looked over at you, dropping his book when he noticed the look on your face. You were frozen in shock, not sure what to do.
Mingi entered your line of sight as the ringing stopped, taking your phone out of your hands and placing it back on the coffee table. Grabbing your hands in his large ones, he squeezed, drawing your attention back to him.
“Hey, look at me. You’re shaking. Look in my eyes. Match your breathing to mine, okay?” Mingi grabbed one of your hands and placed it to his chest, prompting you to regulate your breathing to help you stave off the impending panic attack.
As you continued to breathe, you heard the phone go off again, prompting another small spike of panic.
“Hey, hey. Keep your eyes on me. Do you want me to answer it and talk to them?”
Unable to form words due to the rising panic and bile in your throat, you gave Mingi a barely perceptible nod.
“Okay. I’ll deal with it. What I need you to do for me is to keep your hands on your thighs and keep working on your breathing. In for four, hold for four, out for four. Can you do that for me?”
He holds your gaze as you nod again.
“Alright, I’m going to let go of your hands now. I’ll be in the kitchen, in your direct line of sight. I won’t be long, I promise.”
He gives your hands another squeeze as he turns to grab the phone. A scowl crosses his features and he has to take a deep breath to prevent himself from blowing up at your ex over the phone.
Swiping the screen, he answers.
“What do you want, asshole?” Mingi practically growls.
“Mingi? Where’s y/n?”
“None of your fucking business, that’s where. Why are you calling? It’s been months. What the fuck could you possibly want?” Mingi seethes.
He supposes he could handle this a little more calmly, but he’s fucking LIVID at this idiot for the way they hung you out to dry.
“Hey man, lose the hostility. I’m not trying to start anything, I just want to come get the things I left at y/n’s place. Can I come by and grab it this weekend?”
Mingi sees red.
“Absolutely fucking not. I’m not letting you anywhere near y/n after the shit you pulled. What you’re gonna do is text me a list of the things you need, and I’ll leave them outside for you,” his voice low, dangerous, as he growls into the receiver.
“Jesus Christ Mingi, when did you become their guard dog? I always knew you two had something going on between you,” came the snide reply of your ex.
And there it was. If Mingi weren’t pissed before, he was furious now. That insecurity must’ve been festering long enough for them to seek comfort in someone else instead of being and adult and talking to you about it.
Though Mingi wondered if even that would’ve been enough for the sniveling little insecure worm to have been satisfied.
Drawing in a breath, Mingi closed his eyes and counted to 5 before responding.
“Y/n is my best friend. I’m sorry that your insecure ass couldn’t handle them having me as a friend. If that’s the reason you broke up with them, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were. You could’ve, you know, fucking TALKED to them about this instead of seeking comfort in the next person who fucking blinks at you. Pathetic. Send me your list, and don’t contact y/n ever again. We’re done here.” He hangs up before your ex can get another word in.
He continues to seethe. He can’t believe that little worm had the gall to show their face again all these weeks later. Steadying himself and forcing calming breaths, he turns his gaze back to you, eyes closed and head reclined back on the couch as you breathe deeply.
He pads back over to you, clearing his throat to announce his presence to prevent you from startling. You slowly crack your eyes open at his large form in front of you.
He kneels in front of you again, resuming the position with your hands in his.
Your voice is small and a little cracked as you speak.“What did they want?”
“They want their worthless stuff back. Why they couldn’t do this weeks ago is beyond me. Regardless, they want their shit.”
Your eyes widen in panic a bit. They’re going to come here? You don’t know if you can handle seeing them again.
Mingi squeezes your hands again. “Don’t worry, they’re not getting within 100 yards of you, I promise. We’ll gather everything and leave it outside so you don’t have to interact with them at all. I’m making them send me a list of everything.”
At this, your breathing evens out a bit, shoulders sagging in relief. Mingi leans forward to engulf you in his arms. “I’m here for you, y/n. You don’t have to do any of this alone. Ever.”
Once again leaning into his touch, you let Mingi embrace you until you feel your heartbeat and breathing returning to normal.
Finally calmed down, the encounter had left you absolutely wrung-out. “Min, I’m exhausted. Can you bring me to my room?”
“Of course, hold on tight.” He wrapped his arms tighter around you and hoisted you up off the couch. Curling into him, he walked you to your room and placed you down on the bed.
You shifted to get under the covers and he came around to lay next to you. You rolled over and rested your head on his chest, immediately being enveloped in his embrace.
He caressed your hair softly as he spoke. “Remember, I’m here for you and you’re not going to do this alone. We’ll start sorting through their things when you’re ready, and I’ll handle contact with them. We do this on YOUR terms. Not theirs. Alright?”
You nodded in assent and snuggled closer to Mingi as he continued to run his fingers through your hair.
“Thank you, Mingi,” you murmured into his chest.
He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head and you allowed your eyes to close and finally relax. You fell asleep that night in Mingi’s comforting embrace.
The week continued without any further contact from your ex, just as Mingi had promised. You were coming to terms with the fact you would have to face them, albeit in the form of their possessions, but face them and confront the memories and hurt you still felt.
After another few days, you felt that you were ready to confront them. You pulled out your phone to dial a familiar number.
“Min? I’m ready.”
Mingi arrived at your apartment about a half hour later with cardboard boxes, tote bags, and trash bags.
”Let’s fucking do this.”
———
You were fairly certain that most of your ex’s things were confined to your bedroom and ensuite bathroom, so that’s where you would concentrate your efforts.
You started with your dresser while Mingi focused on your closet.
Feeling unnerved by the silence, you decided to queue up a noisy playlist to fill some of the room and ease your anxiety over the situation. Mingi’s presence helped, but you figured that ambient noise would calm some of the buzzing in your brain and under your skin.
You heard Mingi chuckle when he realized what playlist you went for and you shot him a shy smile from your side of the room. He knew you well enough to understand you couldn’t handle silence when you were feeling anxious.
You heard his deep voice rumble out the rap of the song that was currently playing. You never failed to be amazed by the way he was able to follow the flow of a rap and add his own flair to whatever song he was going along to. In another life, you were sure he’d have a successful career as a rapper or an idol.
Having combed through your drawers and found all of your ex’s clothes, you shoved them into a trash bag and sealed it. You couldn’t care less if the clothes were wrinkled, the jackass deserved worse.
Steeling yourself, you moved over to Mingi’s side to work on the closet. When you reached him, you noticed him fixated on a box in the corner. You realized that it was the box of photos and other memories from your relationship that you had unceremoniously tossed in the corner like they had unceremoniously ended your partnership.
Your eyes began to well up with unshed tears and your breath hitched. Mingi immediately wrapped his arms around you and brought his focus to you. “You’re not alone. Remember, I’m right here. We don’t need to go through that box today. I still think we should burn it all, but it’s your choice on what to do with it,” he spoke softly into your hair.
You shuddered out a deep breath. “It’s okay. I knew in the back of mind that it was there, seeing it just caught me off guard.”
He held you steady as you re-regulated your breathing to match his, just like he taught you. Feeling calmed down, you opened your eyes and felt a new wave of determination wash over you. Mingi’s comforting words and embrace bolstered the confidence that you could get through this.
Leaving the box in the corner for last, the two of you combed through your clothes and other effects to gather all of your ex’s errant belongings and shove them in the bags and boxes Mingi had brought.
Your ex had left a surprising amount of clothing and a few pairs of shoes, so it was no wonder they finally came around to asking for their items returned. It wasn’t your fault they were thoughtless enough to leave shit at your place while they were warming someone else’s bed.
“I want to leave the box for last. I’m fairly certain it’s mostly photographs and other paper items. Let’s go over to the bathroom and deal with whatever bullshit they left there.”
“I’m sure they left half empty toiletries that we can just trash,” intoned Mingi. “No need to save any of that shit and burden us with excess bags.”
You nodded and moved to stand, but Mingi beat you to it, holding out his hand to help you to your feet.
Moving into the ensuite, you noticed that Mingi was dead-on in his assessment. Most of the things left were half empty tubes and bottles along with a used disposable razor and toothbrush you were absolutely not going to keep. You had half a mind to clean the toilet with it and give it back to your ex, but decided against it and tossed it into the trash.
The only other items of theirs that you had found around your apartment were the PlayStation, a few charging cables, books, and a pair of headphones.
Confident you had rid your apartment of the bad energy left by your ex’s belongings, you packed everything up and brought it into the living room.The only thing that remained was the box in the corner of your closet.
Mingi brought it out into the living room wordlessly and set it on the coffee table.
“What do you want to do?”
You took a steadying deep breath. Proud of yourself for coming this far, you were inclined to push through and get it over with, but you knew that some of the memories would engulf your emotions and you felt it was probably best to take a break first.
“I think I want to take a break and get something to eat. Maybe take a nap before I get into it.”
“Do you want me to drop this shit off? It doesn’t need to stay here while you relax. The sooner we’re rid of it, the better you’ll feel.”
You were so grateful Mingi was willing to do all of this for you. Cutting out direct interaction with your ex and going in your stead so that you wouldn’t have to.
You loved Mingi so much.
“Thank you Min, I honestly can’t thank you enough for being willing to do this for me.”
“I told you, y/n, you aren’t alone, and you never will be.”
You almost started crying right there. He noticed your shift in mood and came to sit beside you on the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.
“I’ll call them and let them know I’m dropping this shit in their front yard. That’s all the warning they need.”
Mingi squeezed you a little tighter before dropping his arm and tilting your chin up to look at him.
“I’ll be back in a few hours with some food. Take a nap and relax for a bit and then we’ll have dinner from one of your favorite takeout places. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like heaven, Min. Thank you so much.”
He smiled at you and his eyes crinkled in the way you loved. “Of course. I’ve always got you.”
You returned his smile easily. “Okay, I’m going to shower and get rid of some of these bad vibes after handling so much of their shit, and then I’m going to nap. Thank you again for all of your help today.”
“No problem, y/n. Now go shower, you reek of bad vibes,” he wrinkled his nose playfully and chuckled.
You giggled back and smacked his arm lightly for the barb.
You both got up and you pulled him in for a hug. Surprised by your show of strength, Mingi let out an “oof” as you slammed into him and squeezed his abdomen.
He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight for a moment before you let go and disappeared into your room.
Unbeknownst to you, he followed your retreating figure with an easy smile and all the fondness in the world for you, and pride for your strength and resilience the past few months.
He made quick work of gathering all the bags and boxes and brought them down to his car. Dialing your ex’s number, he barely waited for the call to connect before he was speaking. “I’ve got all your shit and I’m leaving it in your front yard in the next 30 minutes. After this, you have no connection to y/n. You don’t get the privilege,” Mingi spoke tonelessly.
He heard your ex seethe on the other end of the line. “Fine. You’re an ass, Mingi.”
He chuckled darkly, “I could say way fucking worse about you. Delete y/n’s number. We’re done here.” He ended the call and promptly blocked the number.
Satisfied, Mingi started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot of your apartment.
Arriving exactly thirty minutes later, as promised, Mingi unceremoniously dumped everything in the grass outside the house. Sending a middle finger and sarcastic salute at the house, he got back in the car and drove off.
An hour later, you were woken to the sound of your front door closing and the shuffling sound of plastic takeout bags.
You groggily stretched as you heard Mingi making his way around the kitchen to prepare the food for you both.
You shuffled yourself toward the kitchen table to find Mingi setting out a literal feast before you.
“Jeez Min, did you buy out the whole shop or something? There’s just the two of us!”
He chuckled “I wanted you to have all of your favorites and enough for leftovers. I know how much you like to snack late at night.
You pursed your lips at him as he continued pulling containers out. “I hate that you know me so well sometimes.”
He shot you a smug look as you went over to the kitchen to pull out plates, silverware, and glasses for your meal.
You and Mingi enjoyed a comfortable silence during your meal, feeling immense relief that much of the daunting task of confronting your ex’s belongings was almost complete.
“Did you see them when you dropped everything off? Did they say anything to you?”
Mingi chuckled darkly and shrugged. “Nope, the fucker wasn’t home and I just dropped everything on the front lawn. Not my stuff, not my problem.”
You let out an incredulous laugh. “Well at least it’s out of our hands now. Thank you again for doing that for me.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know I’d do it for you in a heartbeat, just as you’d do the same for me.”
You smiled at each other and continued eating in peace.
———
You and Mingi were seated on the floor around your coffee table with the box in front of you.
“Are you ready?” Mingi asked gently.
Closing your eyes and taking a few steadying deep breaths, you centered yourself before nodding and removing the lid from the box.
Your plan was to thumb through everything as quickly as possible to make sure you weren’t destroying anything actually valuable.
The box contained years worth of photographs, polaroids, notes, tickets, trinkets, and countless memories. It was almost painful to see the container filled to the brim with paper, knowing what it had cost you in the end.
You knew you were better off without your ex, but you were still dealing with the fallout and had to remind yourself that it was okay to grieve.
Sensing your hesitation, Mingi shifted and pulled you over his lap and between his legs, startling you.
“I’m going to be right behind you to help ground you, okay? I won’t let you go.”
You felt your eyes well up and sniffled, leaning back into his chest as he wrapped an arm around your midsection and placed his chin on your shoulder.
“Thank you, Min, this feels nice.”
Having his warm, steady presence behind you made it easier to breathe, knowing you weren’t doing this alone.
With a newfound sense of calm and determination, you began sifting through the box, separating everything into piles you categorized as “trash,” “pawn,” and “burn.”
Mingi didn’t say anything as you worked, just held you and rubbed your sides and shoulders to comfort you and remind you that he was right there.
It ended up taking you about an hour to sort through everything.
Taking a deep breath and placing your hands on the table, you surveyed the piles.
You felt, rather than heard Mingi chuckle behind you, clearly amused at the size of the “burn” pile.
“Mingi, are you a secret pyromaniac?”
He chuckled again. “No, I just think that for situations like this it can be freeing to let everything go with a little fire.”
“Have you done this before?”
“Yes, I’ve burned things for myself but I also helped some friends in college when they went through a similar situation. It made them feel a little better, so I figured it would be beneficial for you as well.”
You hummed, considering his words as he shifted behind you. “Alright then. I think to start we throw the garbage out and then take some of these nicer items to the pawn shop to see what we can get for them. I doubt they gave you anything truly expensive, but some of these things might fetch a few bucks. Then we use the firepit in my backyard to burn the rest. Does that sound alright to you?”
“I think that sounds perfect. Are you free tomorrow?”
He shifted again and pulled out his phone to pull up his calendar. “Looks like I’m open all day. Let’s go for it.”
You turned and smiled at him over your shoulder as he squeezed you around the waist.
Tomorrow, you would be free of your ex for good.
———
When you woke up the next morning, you felt simultaneous looming anxiety and relief over what you and Mingi were going to do today.
Letting go of a significant part of your life was never easy, but you finally felt like you were ready.
You stretched your stiff joints and ambled to the bathroom to start your morning. In the shower, you close your eyes and let the hot water run over you, soothing some of the morning ache and relaxing you further. Showers always have a profound calming effect on you.
After finishing your morning routine, you texted Mingi to let him know you were ready for the day. He showed up at your door about a half hour later with two coffees and a bag of pastries from your favorite cafe in tow.
You smiled brightly as you greeted him, hugging him tightly as he placed everything on the counter. “Are you ready for this? How are you feeling?” Mingi asked from above you in the embrace. You looked up at him, his concerned but soft gaze searching your face for any obvious signs of distress or discomfort.
You gave him an easy smile back, grateful for his presence. “I think I’m good. I feel...well I don’t know how to describe it. But I definitely am ready to get rid of all this extra shit.” You gazed back at the piles of garbage bags from yesterday’s cleaning spree, a pang of grief making itself present, knowing what you were about to do.
You shook it off after a minute, letting yourself feel, but strengthening your resolve that this was the correct choice. You looked back to Mingi and squeezed him a little tighter. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you replied.
He hummed above you as he replied “Good. Remember, I will be with you every step of the way today.”
Nodding into his chest, you further steeled yourself into action. Finally turning out of his embrace, you made your way over to the garbage bags. You cracked your neck and hands and rolled your shoulders, ready to rid yourself of the phantom of your ex.
Mingi made his way to your side, catching your eye and giving you a nod as he bent to pick up some bags. You nodded back and followed suit, grabbing the remainder and hefting them up off the floor.
Trudging out of your apartment with the bags and Mingi in tow, you made your way down to the parking lot to throw the actual garbage away in the dumpster, saving the burn pile for later.
Mingi hefted his bags into the bin and dusted off his hands. Turning to you, he clocked your emotions again, ready to act if you changed your mind about all this. Seeing nothing but determined steel in your gaze, he grabbed the burn pile and cleared his throat.
“Ready?” He asked.
You closed your eyes and took a centering breath.
“Ready.” You replied with conviction.
Mingi brought the bags to the backseat of his car and opened the passenger door for you to climb in. Settling yourself inside and buckling your seatbelt, you kept your eyes forward, waiting for Mingi to start the engine.
Not wanting to spend time inside your own head, you turned the radio on as Mingi started the car and prepared to head over to his place.
Mingi, noticing your effort to stay present, kept easy conversation at the forefront.
“Do you want to pick up some snacks on the way, or should we scour my pantry?” He asked, eyes focused forward on the road.
“Honestly, I think stopping would be fine. Lord knows what kind of amalgamation of frat boy apartment snacks we’d create out of the bare bones of your pantry,” you joked.
“Hey now, I resent that! I keep my pantry stocked and ready for company!” He retorted.
“Min, bags of mashmallows and the odd can of soup don’t exactly create the most enticing meals,” you chuckled as he pouted.
“Fine, I guess you’ll never know the joys of my culinary prowess,” Mingi sighed.
You laughed, keeping up the conversation as you pulled up to the grocery store for snacks.
“Would it be too gauche to roast marshmallows and hotdogs over the fire?” You pondered.
Mingi let out a loud cackle at the idea. “No, I don’t think so. But if you had a hesitation in doing so, I say we stick with the basic gathering foods. Chips and dip, perhaps charcuterie?”
“Now you sound pretentious. A whole charcuterie spread as we burn photos of my ex. Should we add aperol spritzers to the mix?” You giggled.
“You laugh, but that sounds perfectly lovely for an evening like this,” shrugged Mingi.
“Alright fine, you pick the snacks and I’ll go along with what you decide,” you acquiesce, not particularly caring what you eat, as your appetite had fluctuated throughout the day.
Finally packed back into the car, you and Mingi rode in companionable silence back to his apartment, the radio playing a calming playlist in the background.
As you arrived at Mingi’s, he grabbed all the groceries while you grabbed the bags holding your tainted memories.
Bringing everything around the back to the patio, you settled yourself in one of the Adirondack chairs while Mingi puttered around setting up the snacks.
Once he was confident in his snack spread, he turned to assess your mood.
“How are you feeling?” As asked as he came to kneel in front of you.
“I’m…surprisingly okay I think.” You looked up into his earnest eyes and felt the warmth radiating out of him. You once again felt overwhelmed gratitude at having Mingi in your life.
Reaching out to place your palm on his cheek, you regarded him in a soft voice. “Thank you for doing this with me, it means the world to me to have you in my corner.”
Mingi smiled and leaned into your palm. “Best friends for life, remember? I’ve always got your back just like I know you’ve got mine.”
You smiled and allowed yourself this moment of comfort.
Finally ready, you dropped your hand and nodded up to Mingi. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Mingi nodded in return and set to work starting the fire in the pit.
You watched as he expertly set the kindling in place between the wooden logs, allowing it to catch fire and create a beautiful, warm fire.
Once the fire was going strong, you finally stood up and stared into the embers.
Were you ready for this? Could you bring yourself to place all of these memories into the flames?
Mingi, sensing your hesitation, made his way to your side and placed his large palm on your shoulder, channeling his support into you.
You heard him quietly in your ear. “It’s okay. You can do this. Burn it.”
Feeling the comfort of his warm palm on your skin, you shook off the doubt and hesitation, ready to start this next phase of your life.
You turned to the bags, opening up the first one and grabbing the first photo you saw.
It was a lovely shot of you and your partner standing beneath the beautiful blooms of a cherry blossom tree. An image that once evoked so much happiness and comfort in you now felt hollow.
You allowed yourself to mourn the peace this image once brought you, tracing your hand over the memories of what once was. Then, with a steady hand, you brought the image forward, and slowly lowered it into the flickering flames.
Allowing the picture to catch fire at the ends, the flame slowly licking its way up through the center of the photo, taking with it the image of your ex.
Once the flames reached your visage, you carefully dropped it into the fire, letting it engulf the rest of the photo, erasing it from existence.
You allowed tears to leak from the corner of your eyes, a mixture of sadness and cathartic release taking over your emotions.
Throughout this, Mingi’s hand stayed firmly planted on your shoulder, bolstering you. He knew how hard this was for you, and he was so proud of you for taking this first step.
You leaned back, allowing Mingi’s arms to encircle you as you cried for what once was, for the last time.
After a while, the tears dried up and you and Mingi pulled some chairs closer to the fire so that you could snack while dropping memories into the flames.
You told stories associated with the photos and other mementos, allowing yourself to feel as you dropped each reminder into the fire, watching as each piece of your old relationship turned to ash.
Mingi stayed strong next to you, listening intently and keeping a hold on you in any way that he could, be it holding your hand, touching your arm, or putting an arm around your shoulders, keeping his promise to not leave you alone through this.
Eventually, the snacks ran out and the number of photos in the bags dwindled down to one single image remaining.
It was a candid shot you had taken of your ex, one you had adored and kept close to you at your workstation. You gazed upon the photo, once again allowing yourself to feel and remember, building up the emotion to let it release in a mix of blue and red flames. Ready to let it burn.
Touching the tip of the photo to the fire, you coaxed the flames to consume the last image. Placing it delicately on the wood, you watched as the corners of the photo met in the middle, turning what remained into a pile of embers.
It was done. You were finally free of your ex.
Sitting back, but keeping your eyes on the flames, you felt Mingi embrace you once again.
“I’m really proud of you, you know. You did it. You are free of them, free to live your life on your own terms. I can wait to see you continue to grow from here,” he murmured into the dusk.
You felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude once again. The love you feel for your best friend bursting out of you into a comforting warm glow you always associated with Mingi.
“Thank you Mingi, for everything. Always.”
Resting your head on Mingi’s shoulder, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of a bonfire and the warm embrace of your best friend as he pulled you closer. Opening your eyes, you watched the whispers of memories turn into nothing but a pile of ash and fading embers.
You stayed like this for hours, soaking in the comfort of friendship and embracing the strength derived from overcoming grief.
As you gazed in the dying embers of memories of a life once lived, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace finally settle deep in your bones.
Rising from the ashes of despair, from this day forward, you are reborn anew.
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caotictimmy · 3 days ago
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This is going to be a long and important rant. Trigger warning for SA,Grooming, incest. Proshipping and stuff like that
I can’t believe I have to fucking say this. The problem tumbler has with normalizing and platforming proshippers and just incel ppl in general is disgusting. IF YOUR A PROSHIPPER, SUPPORT PRO SHIPPERS. GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY FUCKING PAGE. APPERENTLY I have to say this since I’m in the genshin and mouthwashing fandom. I was looking at one of my comments that had a weird name. I clicked on their account and they just reposted a lot of sissy content. I personally don’t like it but if it doesn’t involve anything disgusting like incest or rape I don’t care. But then I saw them repost smut of Percy Jackson. A GOD DAMN CHILD. I do not care if he is aged up. It is still gross and predatory. Especially if written by an adult. I get it if it was written by a minor. When I was younger I use to read stuff like that. But if you are a grown adult writing smut over a child no matter if you “aged” them up, you are a predator.
But back to the account. When I checked their following. The amount of proshipping accounts I saw almost made me throw up. The funny thing is the amount of whining and temper tantrums these people have.” WAHH WAHH THEY TOOK DOWN THE PROSHIPPING POLLS OF INCEST AND PEDOPHILIA PROSHIPS WAHH WAHH CURSE YOU SPAM REPORTERS.” I do not feel bad when these get taken down. Apparently this is a hot take. I fully support spam reporting incest, pedo and general proshipping stuff like that. I don’t care if it’s a rambling post or a full fledge fanfic. I don’t care if it’s character x character or x reader. I will happily report it with no guilt. “B-but t-they/I-I spent so long w-w-writing that.” DONT CAREEEEEE. Cause it’s not like this stuff doesn’t have an affect on people. When I was younger I use to read this stuff, that was how I thought relationships were supposed to be. Which ended up letting me get groomed by multiple people multiple times.
This stuff DOES AFFECT PEOPLE. This stuff being able to be put out and supported is harmful. You don’t even have to be a minor for this stuff to twist your views on relationships. There was this one person in that one persons following. I think their name was like proshipscara. One of their post was talking about “you don’t have to defend yourself for being a proshipper” their right you don’t. Because you are a disgusting person and NO defending can save your case.
And also before you brain dead basement dwelling defunked things go cry about “it’s a trauma response!” That does NOT make it ok whatsoever. It’s like saying it’s ok to scream and blow up on people, hit people, because it’s a trauma response. If this is helping your trauma which I highly doubt it. Keep this shit to yourself. Cause the amount of minors groomed into this is genuinely so sad. That probably my biggest reason why I hate pro shippers so much. Being a victim of it myself.
Please speak out about this, don’t just repost this or other anti proshipper posts. SPEAK UP. You can speak up about your hate for proshippers, speak up about the affects that happened. SPEAK UP! Cause this is a rampant problem. You can also help without speaking up. Report and block any proship accounts. Even if they don’t call themselves proshippers. If you see them posting incest, grooming, SA, in a positive light, report and block them.
Anyways thanks if you read all this I hope you have a good day! And if any proshippers wanna go cry in my comments or try and harrase me. Just try I’d love the good laugh.
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gummy-axolotl · 2 days ago
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SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP HE CALLED JIM HIS SON. FATHER AND SON. I'M DEAD. I'M DYING. HELP. I LOVE THEM. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
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cryptic-corvids-blog · 8 months ago
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“you’re easy to love, and anyone who couldn’t figure that out was a real bozo”
no one talk to me im going to be crying over this for the next million years
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johnsspacesuittight · 1 month ago
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my god I'm literally almost in tears watching video of mcr from last night, like what the fuck do you mean we have mcr playing all of the black parade in 2024?????
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youling-the-ghost · 2 months ago
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Alexa and Janusz are 100% joining the flock of traumatised sfth longform children that I've been collecting. Such sweet childhood friends who deserved none of what happened.
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blmpff · 2 years ago
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Blueming (2022) 1x6
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blossoms-phan · 28 days ago
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do u think they knew
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it was gonna be forever
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wynntermelon · 8 months ago
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Baobei!
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illustratingari · 5 months ago
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And to the ends of the galaxy they went 😭💔
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