#something something the longing and yearning for someone who is already gone all while you ask for answers to an entity that gives you none

[lais-a-ramos]

the other day i finally read the poem "the raven" by edgar allan poe, and that is very yellowjackets and also very lottielee

[petertingle-yipyip]

ALWAYS BEEN YOU - KAZ BREKKER

//follow-up to this (for context, really) but can be standalone// also @darker0moon221b asked for this//

Pairing: kaz brekker x reader

Word Count: 3,146

Summary: On the heels of a rough night and unbelievable confessions, Y/N still has to make sure Kaz is alright. What comes after is… shocking.

“I loved you first.”

“What?” Your head snapped up and your hands around the kit tightened till your knuckles were white. “You don’t mean that.” You laughed nervously.

Kaz didn’t waiver in his eye contact, dark eyes boring into yours. You shifted slightly under his gaze but he didn’t speak. Even when you rose to your feet, he didn’t look away, didn’t say a word. He just watched you intently, like if he looked away you would vanish.

Those four seemingly simple words bounced around your skull. You tried to imagine what his expression was when he said them, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to know what he was thinking. That cursed unreadable expression crossed his features and you would’ve given anything for any of his other looks. That near smile that only you seemed to get or even his widely recognized scheming face.

“I loved you first.”

You had imagined it, right? He gave you nothing to think otherwise. Yes, that’s all it was. A tired brain mixing with a yearning heart to play on your own foolish infatuation. Kaz Brekker was many horrible things and few wonderful. But he was not someone who confessed love. Maybe he didn’t know love. Maybe he didn’t want to. Either way, it wasn’t about you. That much you could convince yourself.

“Okay.” You said finally. You had no idea how much time had passed while your thoughts ran rampant. “Well, make sure you eat and drink something to help with the blood loss. I’d say something with some sugar. Oh! Nina was by earlier, brought some new pie. You might like it.”

“Y/N?” He tried but you pretended not to hear him.

“I’ll come check on it in the morning, if that’s alright. Make sure no infection has set in and you still have your wits.”

“That’s all?”

“Is there anything else?” You cringed slightly at the desperation in your voice.

“You tell me.”

You swallowed the thoughts that threatened to embarrass you further and simply nodded, lips pressed tightly to a line. You moved to grab your fallen book but once your eyes went down, Kaz seemed to know your intention. Of course he did. You immediately stopped when you saw his movements, the stretch of his long yet muscle bound bare limbs.

You also realized he was still shirtless.

You turned on your heel instead and briskly walked out the room. You made sure the door was firmly shut behind you and then you practically ran to your own room. You all but slammed the door and dropped your kit to your desk. You yanked off the remaining glove and pushed your hands into your hair. You let out an uneven breath and tried once more to piece together the night.

You were reading in Kaz’s office. He came in, covered in blood. You cleaned him up and he smiled at you. He said he loved you.

You laughed slightly and then put a hand to your mouth.

“Oh Saints, I’ve gone mad.” You said to yourself. You shook your head and decided to sleep it off.

But your dreams were simply replays of that damn smile.

The next morning, you dragged your feet to get ready. You brushed your hair and teeth, then washed your face leisurely. You knew Kaz was likely already waiting for your promised arrival and he’d have some comment locked and loaded, just itching for an opportunity, but that only made you want to avoid it more. But the deal was the deal.

You tucked a pair of gloves into your pocket and cut a new bandage wrap from your fabric pile before you headed to see him. You greeted the few Dregs that were up at the early hour before you hesitated outside his office.

You tugged on the collar of your shirt, just so you didn’t pat your pocket, and shifted on your feet. You hated the fact that you were dreading something you were good at, simply because you had gotten something you had only dreamed of. And for what? Because you couldn’t believe it? Because you decided to want something so simple from the one person it always seemed so improbable from?

Then again, improbability wasn’t impossibility.

“Why are we staring?” Jesper whispered loudly and you jumped. “It’s just a door.”

“Ha ha.” You said sarcastically and jammed your elbow into his ribs. “And it’s not that I’m staring. I’m stalling, it’s different.”

“Okay… Why are you stalling? Meeting with the boss you don’t wanna deal with?”

“Of a sort.” You nodded. “Do you think…”

“Wylan would say no but I beg to differ.” He shrugged and glanced over with a wide grin. “What’s on your mind?”

You nodded towards Kaz’s door.

“What’d he do this time?” Jesper sighed and his smile fell.

“When he’s come back after having the ever-loving shit kicked out of him, have you ever heard him say anything strange?” You tried to keep it vague. Telling Jesper was just as bad as screaming it across the Barrel. You loved your friend but he was a gossip.

He gasped dramatically, thus confirming your hesitation. “Is there news?”

“Maybe… I’m hopeful, don’t get me wrong, but I also can’t convince myself it happened.”

“Well, what was it?”

“So you can tell all of Ketterdam and get us both in trouble?” You laughed. “No way.”

“Oh, come on!” He tried.

You shook your head with a smile and knocked on the office door. After a second, you could hear the tapping of his cane coming closer. You looked back at Jesper, who was still staring with wide, pleading puppy-dog eyes. The door cracked open so you shot your friend a wink and ducked inside.

“You took your time.” Kaz complained once you shut the door.

“Good morning to you too.” You rolled your eyes, both glad and disappointed to be back to your usual banter. You turned and found him sitting in your chair, cane resting against the arm while he rubbed out his bad leg. “How do you feel?”

He shrugged. You could’ve been mistaken, but he seemed more irritated than usual.

You made a face to yourself and crossed the room. You stopped a few inches from him, not even letting your shoes touch, and leaned in quietly. His eyes went wide for a moment and it almost seemed like he had a forward lean of his own. Your eyes were on the cut of his forehead, checking the length of it once then twice then a third time just for the hell of it.

But even with your focus on the injury, you could see the movement of his own eyes. Darting between yours, following the shape of your jaw, your lips, trailing down your neck.

“That one looks good.” You leaned away and nodded. “You didn't feel any sort of dizziness or sickness after I left?”

He seemed to lose himself in his thoughts before he answered you. You knelt in front of him, nudging his knees apart. The jostle seemed to bring him back to the moment, which caused a new flash of surprise. You wondered for a second if it meant something in your favor or if he was feeling some sort of after effect from the fight.

“Kaz?” You tried waving a hand in front of his face. “Is something wrong?”

He reached out and took your hand in his. You said nothing, but your expression betrayed you. Kaz let out a small chuckle and let himself smile again, smaller than the one that threw you last night but still genuine. Your eyes were wide and soft in awe at the simple contact but coming on the heels of the confessions last night, it had to have some weight.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He said quietly. “Truthfully, Y/N, I worried I had misunderstood you.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

“Do you remember what you said last night?”

You winced. “In painful detail, yes.”

He chuckled again and you lost the fight to hide a smile. “I thought about it all night.”

“Really?”

“I wondered if I had misheard you, if I had misread your cues.”

“Hang on.” You cut in, snapping into focus as if you had been hit with cold water. “Cues? I wasn’t giving cues.”

“Really?” He challenged lightly. “Should I list them?”

“Please do, but while you try and embarrass me, unbutton your shirt so I can check your side.”

“Those wide eyes that always find me in a room.” He pointed to your eyes before taking off his gloves to work the buttons. “You ask something specific of me then change it to mean everyone. The way you curl up in this chair and face my desk, pretending to read but you’re looking over your book towards me. Hell, even the way you say my name.”

“That’s… a good list.” You said carefully, admittedly embarrassed. You dropped your eyes and pulled the gloves from your pocket. 

“Do you want to know what really convinced me?”

“Not particularly but I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.” You confessed with a sigh. Once your gloves were fitted to your hands, you leaned an elbow on his knee and looked back at him.

He leaned in as if to tell you a secret, though it was likely just to free some space while he wriggled out of his shirt sleeves. You wanted to lean in and meet him, finally kiss him, but you knew better. Instead, you forced your eyes to stay on his side. You tried not to let your gaze wander across his muscle-bound, scar-riddled torso.

Focus, Y/N.

You shifted to sit up on your knees and reached in. Your rubber covered fingers met his skin carefully and you gently prodded and pulled on the injury.

“Nothing to say anymore?” You asked lightly, hoping to break the now thick tension.

You dared a glance at his face and his eyes were closed, head leaning against the back of the chair. Your movements froze as you simply looked at him. He almost looked content, so much softer when his eyes were closed. It was small moments like that that made you forget he was the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands Brekker. He was someone to be feared. Men with any sense wouldn’t dare to cross him. Women with any sense swooned and batted their lashes for his attention. Kids with any sense feared their closets because the monsters come from there.

But to you, especially in those fleeting vulnerable instances, he was just Kaz. And that was always enough for you.

You shook the thought and went back to your examination. You ran your fingers over the length of the wound and frowned when you realized one of the stitches were looser than it should’ve been.

“Were you messing with these last night?” You accused quickly.

“What?” He finally spoke. “No.”

“Dammit.” You cursed and pulled your hands away. You dropped to sit on your heels and blew a sigh while you threw the gloves on the floor in annoyance. “It’s not as tight as I’d like it to be. Must’ve been the gloves.”

“Do you need to fix it?”

You looked over at the discarded gloves and frowned. “More practice is what I need.” You muttered before looking back at Kaz. “It should be okay. It’s clean so as long as you keep it covered, it won’t bleed through your clothes or anything… But it’ll scar for sure now.”

He shrugged. “What’s one more?”

“You never told me what tipped you off.” You said, looping back to the prior conversation.

You knew you should’ve left, let the unspoken thing between you two stay unspoken, but you also knew you needed closure. You needed to know with certainty if your pining was obvious. If you needed to pack up and run from your embarrassment. Maybe Inej would let you join her crew next time she came to port.

He held his hand out to you and you went for it, then hesitated. You kept your hand just out of his reach before closing your fingers to create just a bit more space. The idea of putting your hand in his - his bare hand - was something you had only dreamed about. You heard him make a noise of impatience at your hesitation and he leaned forward again to take your hand in his.

“You’re always careful of my space.” He began carefully. It was a list he knew, something he had drafted and gone over a million times in the past few weeks. Or maybe it was months. It could’ve been years for all Kaz could tell. Everything with you seemed to come together in the best and worst ways. “You’re careful of contact.”

“Because I know you don’t like it.” You shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone seem to avoid you for one reason or another?”

“Well, yes, but you do it to be considerate not because you’re afraid.”

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Kaz took a deep breath and his eyes finally met yours. You could see the war raging behind his eyes. The contact of your hand in his must’ve been driving him insane. You could see his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, like he had to consciously force the air in and out of his lungs. His jaw was tense. Hell, his whole body was wound tight as elastic, ready to snap. To shove you away, to scream at you, to start a fight neither of you would hold back in. But he didn’t. He willed himself to maintain the contact, even when you gave the slightest tug to free your hand.

“No.” He finally spoke. “Never you.”

“What are…” You tried, but the question wouldn’t form. What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he letting go? Why was he tormenting himself just to hold your hand?

“When I felt your gloves last night, it all made sense.” He explained and the grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly. “I knew I hadn’t been crazy.”

“I might be.” You said mindlessly and he chuckled.

“We both might be.” He agreed. “But still… You didn’t have to use gloves, but you did, because you wanted to be able to help me. Right?”

“Someone has to.” You tried to sound casual.

“They don’t.” He corrected. “But you want to.”

“Because I care about you, Kaz. You’ve been my friend for years. I’d hate to lose you.”

“Do you love me, Y/N? Truly.”

You swallowed hard, licking your lips to stall. Your free hand twitched and knowing your pockets were empty, you tugged on your shirt to adjust the fabric. Suddenly, the room felt very warm.

“I…” You began slowly. “You’re still holding my hand.”

“Yes.”

“Without your gloves.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

“And that doesn’t make you want to run?”

“It does.” He answered tightly. “But I don’t want to run from you.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You put your other hand on his knee. “Let go, Kaz.”

“No.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because how can I be with the woman I love if I cannot bring myself to touch her?” He answered quickly and your eyes went wide. “If I cannot hold her hand or touch her face, her lips… If I cannot bring myself to hold her, what kind of love is that?”

“If she truly loves you, she’ll bear it.” You offered. 

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” His expression shifted slightly to relief. “Yes, you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

“So I didn’t imagine it last night? You said you loved me first.”

“Truthfully, I was worried I had imagined it all. But I couldn’t stop thinking about those damned gloves and how I wanted to feel your touch without them… Just be honest with me, Y/N. Do you want this?”

“Of course I do.” You said without thinking. “But I can’t ask you to torture yourself just to be with me.”

“You’re always so gentle.” He spoke softly, admiringly even, and it made you blush. “You don’t have to be so with me. I can take it.”

“And you shouldn’t have to.” You managed to wiggle your hand free and you watched his chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh of relief. “I do love you, Kaz, in a way that scares me. But I won’t be the reason you force yourself to do something you can’t.”

You stood and reached for the book you left the night before.

“No one forces me, Y/N.” He stood in front of, one small step to block your reach. “I want to do this for you.”

“Don’t make me move you.”

“You wouldn’t push a cripple without his cane, would you?” He feigned innocence.

“I’m serious, Brekker. Let me get my book so I can go and you can think this through.”

“I’ve spent weeks thinking it through.” He shook his head. “I want to try. For you, yes, but also myself… I want to hold you and kiss you and touch you for myself.”

“If I give in and if I’m with you.” You said firmly, pointing your finger near his face. “We need to be very open about limits. I won’t push and I expect you to stop when you need to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted sarcastically and you had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. “Anything else?”

“You need to give me your word, Kaz.”

“Don’t trust me?” He raised a brow.

“I trust you with my life you buffoon.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “But I need to know you’ll commit yourself to what I’m asking.”

“Y/N, darling. I give you my word, on any and all Saints you want to invoke, that I will take that time I need so long as you’ll let me.”

“Good.” You nodded. You thought if there was anything else you could or should have him agree to. Your mind was blank so you shoved your hands into your pockets. “I suppose that means we’re together now.”

He grinned and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Finally.” He said and you could tell he was truly happy. “Can I kiss you?”He took a step closer.

You freed a hand and gingerly brushed your fingers along his temple, sneaking into his hair for a second. He gasped but you noticed he didn’t flinch. Feather-light, your touch went along the angle of his jaw and danced down his neck, curved with his shoulder, and skimmed his arm until you reached his hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you felt his other hand under your chin, tilting your head back.

“If you’re sure you can bear it.” You said quietly.

[tmwcs]

HI, I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH!!

can u do something,like a oneshot Or something for heeseung where because of being an idol he can't date but he's also a hormonal man so he gets hot and bothered due to stress and other factors often but now it's gotten to a point where he can't concentrate, he needs pussy. So he tells his manager who pulls him aside one day to ask him what's wrong with him. Now the manager arranges someone (YOU) as a stress reliever for heeseung. U can continue the rest hehe:)

”The Arrangement.”

Warnings: Idol HS and y/n, oral (fem receiving), reader is getting paid for sex, hints of rough smut.

“Heeseung, come on! More energy! Bring out Ethan Lee! Concert is in a few hours, we need everyone on point.”

Heeseung’s hands remained firm on his hips as he rolled his eyes and caught his breath. He was frustrated, angry, and disappointed, mainly because there was a lot of truth in the staff’s words, he wasn’t as lively or energetic…in fact, he was slacking. 

“Yeah….got it. Can we do another take?” 

The staff and creative director all nod and aired the track as the boys performed their routine. “Yes! Just like that! Keep doing that Heeseung!”

“Nice wink, Jake! Do that more!”

“Sunoo, more smiling!”

“Jungwon, tilt your chin down more on this part.”

“Nice one Niki!”

“Jay, too sexy! Tone it down just a tad.”

“Sunghoon, do that thing that the girls like, you know, lick the fangs. That drives them crazy, and we want them to go ballistic during the concert.”

By the end of the hour, the group had completed a lengthy six hour session, with only ten minutes to spare before hair and makeup. “Changeover!” the staff yells out, already herding the young men backstage. 

“Heeseung…you good?”

“Huh?  Oh…yeah….”

“You sure? You seem to be out of it, I know it’s hard to get rest when we’re busy on tour…just a few more days and we can finally get a break.” Jake was always understanding, and normally he could guess the issue and provide the motivation as a resolve for everyone, including the eldest. However, this time…he wasn’t guessing correctly. 

“Yeah…thanks.” Heeseung merely stated before changing into the first outfit. He wasn’t tired or feeling restless, maybe to an extent, but that really wasn’t the cause of his lack in performance. The man was yearning; hungry for a desire that could not be fulfilled by the pampering treatment of first class air tickets, the rising fame of popularity, or the lavish hotel stay. He needed flesh, and badly. 

While it was customary for idol’s to keep things hush-hush as far as their personal lives went, it didn’t mean that they could indulge, so long as it never reached public sight or hearing. What with the frequent dates he’s gone on with many of the most well known female idols, some younger or older, the rigorous tour schedule had kept him from maintaining anything steady, and for so long he had been running dry. He wasn’t necessarily desperate, just needed the warmth and comfort of a suitable woman. 

The concert ended, and as always, the group had served well and performed fantastically. The energy was thriving and the atmosphere was filled with screams as each member waved goodbye. 

Finally, it was all done. 

“Well…we got two more days here until we fly back. We gonna do anything?” Jake inquires openly as he high-fives each member. 

“Niki and I were going to go try out this restaurant. They charge $300 per steak.”

“Oh I heard about that place. Don’t they have a year-long waitlist?” 

“Manager got us in.”

Heeseung pretended to be asleep, propping his head against the window as his arms remained firmly crossed against his chest. His ears pricked up as he overheard the ongoing conversation inside the van. 

After arriving at the hotel, everyone went into their respective rooms. As usual, Heeseung had a room entirely by himself, which he and the members were instructed to tell the fans that it was all due to chance of winning “Rock, Paper, Scissors” when in reality, the eldest of the group receives such privileges as customary within the industry. But for the sake of reflecting the bond and “softness” within their image, the company deemed it better to lie about the room assignments. 

He tosses his leather jacket aside as it flops onto the chair backing. Exhaustion took over his entire body as he threw himself on the bed. His eyes slowly open as he reaches for his phone, half of his face still buried into the plush bedding as he explores his pocket and dig it out. There was no way he could spend another night alone, taking care of his needs by hand. WIth as many callouses he had, there was no way he could even make it feel natural or good, there wasn’t enough lotion in the world that could cover up and mend the roughness of his hardworking skin. 

“We need to talk.” was all he types in before sending off the message. 

A few moments pass before he hears the knocking at his door. “Well that was fast…Mr. Manager.” he softly whispers while lifting his body off the bed. 

“Heeseung, what’s up?”

“Need you to come inside for a second.”  Heeseung nonchalantly spoke out as he turned and lazily plops himself on the couch. HIs manager followed closely behind and took a seat across, looking at the young man intently before raising the concern yet again. “Everything alright?”

“You really have to ask?” Heeseung peeks from under his elbow as he drapes an arm over his eyes. He really didn’t like to make eye contact when it came to the topic of girls and dating…and this wasn’t going to be any easier. “I need a woman…”

“.....you mean….a date?” his manager tries to confirm, before a snappy Heeseung gently corrects him. 

“Not to date….I need a woman…I need skin…flesh…hair….and nails to dig into my skin with a feminine voice to scream out my name.” 

“....so you want a prostitute?” 

“NOT A PROSTITUTE!” on the verge of losing it, Heeseung sits up rather abruptly as he squares his gaze over to his manager. He really wasn’t trying to be impatient or unpleasant, he was in a vulnerable state of mind. No man should ever go so long without feel the pleasures of someone else’s body, especially someone who is constantly surrounded by all these pretty little fans that were filling his mind with all sorts of sordid thoughts….them with their perfect makeup, the sweet fragrances of their perfume and those damn long and elegant acrylic nails. Day in and day out, he’s surrounded by feminine energy, it all contributed to this sexual demise he was falling into. “I’m just going to put it this way….if you don’t find me someone that can keep their mouth shut, and spend one night with me, then I am going to lose it. I’m on the verge of doing reckless things, and I can’t control it. Just find me someone that isn’t a prude but isn’t desperate.”

The manager knew Heeseung well enough to know when the young man was on the road to destruction, this was one of them. The heat of anger coming from his eyes was enough to tell him what he had to do. The hardest factor about this thing is finding someone suitable, not only in appearance but in their manners; he’d have to be cunning and covert. 

Five hours in, he nearly fell to the ground in defeat when suddenly…

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“Hm? Yes?”

“You dropped this back at the last walkway.” 

“Oh!...Thank you….”

You turned to  continue on with your own business when the gentleman spoke out in haste, you had assumed it was because he wanted to thank you once again for returning his wallet, but the tune of his wording made you realize that that wasn’t the case. 

“Young lady, I have a proposition for you…do you have a minute?”

…………………….

A half hour later, after an internal hesitant debate, you caved in at the young man’s offer. You weren’t the type to ever hook up with a random man, even an idol, but the fact that you had been running dry since your last break up over a year ago, and not to mention the exquisite monetary offer that would cover three months of your rent, which would leave you that much stress free from everything else going on. Your final year in college has been more demanding than the previous, so much that you had to quit your part time job, which left you struggling financially. All of this led to the perfect combination of desperation, sexually frustrated, and mentally drained. By the time he mentioned that a non-disclosure agreement would mandate that both you and the idol would refrain from exposing your identities, you accepted. 

Expressing that you wanted to get it done and over with, the man took you to the lavish hotel room, the most expensive in your home country. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt, being taken to an extremely fancy hotel room to meet a young and handsome performer and spend one night with him…for sex. Should you bail out now? 

“We’re here. Here’s the key card, it’s on the third floor, room number 306.” 

You take the key card and paused, thinking for a moment if you should just tell him that the deal was off. But the subtle push over towards the elevator pretty much sealed your night. 

You walked through the narrow corridor, staring at the gold engraving of the numbers on the key card. With a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door before inserting the key. “Hello?” you gently speak out as you open the door. The entire room was dimmed with a golden hue with no one in sight; the massive bed topped with goose feather pillows and comforter sets up an enticing welcome as you breach closer to the main layout. 

“Well hello.”

You turned in haste upon hearing the deep voice from behind, and saw him. He was leaning back against the wall, behind the door panel side. No wonder you didn’t see him when entering, the wide door swing provided enough cover for him to remain elusive yet still having enough sight to observe how delectable you look. His manager outdid himself. 

“Oh…hi…I’m sorry…my name is–”

“Y/N…”

“Y-yeah…”

The manager must have already texted the idol your name. You couldn’t lie, this entire thing was uncomfortable, and you were on the verge of backing out when the man started to walk over, stepping into the warm light. He had a handsome face, and was tall…very tall, but of all things that got to you, was the glaring look he had in his eye. He looked hungry, famished even, with the way he stroked his finger across his lips as he tilted his chin downard, arms loosely crossed as he took each step steadily. 

“Um…I’m not sure…if I should–”

“You’re already here…might as well get it going.”

He grabbed onto your shoulders, proceeding to walk forward as he herd’s you backwards until your back meets the opposite wall. He really was hungry, and unfortunately for you, it was contagious. WIth the way his hands roamed all over our body, the way his mouth immediately latched onto your throat, and the way his fingers ripped your blouse apart, sending buttons flying all over, he was a demon tainting every sense of rationality in your mind and you loved it. Still, you were experiencing hesitancy, but the moment he peeled your bra down and began sucking on your nipples, leaving squelching kisses the soft skin on your mounds. “W-wait…”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he drags you down onto the ground, pushing you back to lay you down, leaving you completely vulnerable. He had to be hurting with the way he was feasting on your body, so much that you wondered exactly just how long he had gone without it, and was it longer than you? 

“I-I…” was all you could manage to stutter when he started to lift your skirt, ruffling it around your waist as he fingers the damask lining of your thigh high stockings. With a mouthful of your skin, he muffles his burning desire. “Stop trying to push me away…I’ve been hurting for so long.” 

You ignored his words as you continued to create some distance. You were torn, he felt so good rubbing your curves but also made you feel scared with how pushy and forceful he was becoming. You nearly screamed out when the sudden warmth of soft, plush lips tenderly kissed your clitoris. Being so caught up with his mannerisms, you hadn’t realized that he dragged and tore your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed. The way his tongue circulated around and pressed in between the folds of your womanhood caused you to drop your hands to your side, no longer putting up any resistance. He kept going, licking and twirling his tongue around, making your head spin vigorously as he committed the only gentle act of the night, which was placing his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart as he buried his face deeper into your core. 

You moaned out in extreme ecstasy, arching your back and digging your hips downward. You gulped down hard swallows as you try to catch your breath, but the sensation of his nose and mouth inducing the most pleasure you’ve felt in over a year had you inadvertently suppressing screams, choking on your own breaths. 

“O-oh!...Oh my God! P-please!” You dug your fingernails into the floorboard, squinting your eyes shut as you gasped out your moans, he went in faster and flickered his tongue deeper while shoving it inside your cavity. Groaning out his pleasures, he growls as he thrusts it in and out. He closes your legs together, pressing them closer to your chest as he wraps his arms around your thighs, still slurping and thrusting his oral muscle. Propping his stature on the caps of his knees, he hugs your thighs close to his chest as he lifts your derriere from off the floor as he brings you closer to the edge. HIs face shoved in against your taint, his slick tongue going in and out at a vigorous momentum, the faint echoes of his cheeks slapping into you as the impact caused your body to shift up while he had you partially levitated did you in, and you screamed out your moans. With your thighs shook, lips quivered, and chest heaving, you laid restlessly as the hot stream of fresh tears escaped from the outer corners of your closed eyes. Your heavy breathing became a rewarding sight as he remained in his kneeling position, unbuckling his belt. A smirk creeps up on his face as he sheds off his attire, chuckling in a demeaning manner as he looks down at you, somewhat pitifully and yet adoringly. 

“Oh pretty thing…the night is just getting started. Got a lot of pent up frustration in me, and unfortunately, I’m about to take it out all on you. Now…grab it…and scream out my name.”

……………………..

Days had passed since that night, and you still felt sore in between your legs. It was stingy, yet the pulsating rampage also reminded you of the greatest pleasure you had felt in all your life. Not even your ex-boyfriend, the one who was known to frequent the college campus girls, could even make you feel remotely as good. Must be an idol thing, either that or there must be something in the water in South Korea. Too bad you’ll never see him again. 

You were making your way over towards the bus station ahead, when a large crowd blocked your way. 

“Oh come on…” you tilted your head left, and right, all to find a small loophole within the bustling groups of young girls screaming their heads off and flashing dozens of pictures. You shuffled your way through, not paying any mind to your surroundings, when all of a sudden a young fellow dressed in black approaches you.

“Miss y/n?”

“Yes?...who are you?”

The man declines to answer, instead, he hands you a folded piece of paper. You unfolded it to read the contents, looking rather confused. 

‘Hey pretty thing, you free tonight?’

Looking up, the staff member smiles as he points to the side, indicating for you to look in that direction. Turning your head over shoulder, you were stunned to see the man from the other night, the idol who violated you with his tongue and cock, had you begging for more until the wee hours of the early morning. It was him…

“Oh my God is he looking at me?!”

“No he’s looking at me!”

“Heeseung! Heeseung!” 

All the girls waved and jumped, but the direct eye contact and small smirk told you of who he truly was looking at. He sends off a wink which had all the girls pool into an emotional and hormonal mess, leaving only you standing upright, with his eyes still looking directly into your own, he silently mouths out the words to you. 

“My…pretty….thing.”

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Spoiled Brat {pt.2}

Remus Lupin x Gaunt!Reader

Summary: Remus and the reader reunite, but it doesn't go as well as either had hoped. Remus finds himself dealing with an evolution in his furry problem. (There will be a part 3- I'm sorry)

WC: 4895

Warnings: Not proof read. Sexual themes and references, this one is mostly angst and yearning, use of {Y/N}, fem reader, self doubt- let me know if I missed anything!}

Part one

You had no idea where you were going. Not that you would know if you had thought about it, you didn't have a clue about this damn school. You turned every corner and kept pushing through the sharp pain in your calves.

Your mind was racing. What the hell!? Why was he here!?

You turned another corner and ended up in just an empty corridor again. Eventually, you gave in and shoved your way into an empty classroom as you heard his footsteps grow closer. Fuck fuck fuck.

You began to pace. This should have never come home with you. What was he? A muggleborn? You had forgotten that Hogwarts accepts them. Was he a halfblood? No way in hell he was a pureblood, no chances you found someone that similar to you.

During the training over the summer, Mrs. Black made a heavy point of schooling you in infatuation. Well, at least that's what she called it. Longing for someone who you couldn't have. She taught you how to ignore the feelings, how to shove aside such thoughts and remind yourself you had a greater purpose.

You almost felt sorry for her, if she wasn't so vindictive and cruel, she would almost be a sob story.

Though, that was the only thing that helped. She seemed almost.. sympathetic with how taken you were with those lessons. Even a monster can use her heart once in a while. You had used her practice religiously, a rubber band around your wrist, flicked it throughout the day, and if you thought of him, or let your mind wander from your duties, flick it particularly hard.

She seemed to trial off when she noticed just how much you did it. By the dent around her forearm, she knew what she was talking about. What a cruel fix, seemed appropriate for her.

So here you were, pacing, your wrist turned upward and snapping the rubber band repeatedly, not thinking about just how much noise you were making. You were too wound up. You felt like a caged animal, just praying to Merlin that he walked past the classroom and somehow, for the next year, you'd be able to avoid him.

You could never be so lucky.

The door opened with a start and you hissed out at a particularly hard snap of the rubber across your already raw skin. Your eyes locked with a familiar face, you both were frozen. No one dared to move. The sound of his friends running down the hall and gaining on them seemed to catch Remus’s attention. He closed the door quickly behind him and you both held your breath. Listening as his friends all shuffled past the doorway.

Once they got further away, their shouts of Moony’s name fading out, he moved first.

You fumbled for your wand the second they were gone, looking down to your robe pocket and cursing as the colors blended together in your panic, the dark classroom was only illuminated by the moonlight from behind you, you didn't stand a chance. You missed your old uniform. You heard his footsteps, but by the time you looked up his long strides had already covered half the space between you.

You grasped your wand and snatched it from your ruffled uniform, before he grabbed your wrist and took your cheeks with one hand. You pointed your wand to this throat, but his grip on your wrist made you hold it at an odd angle. His thumb dented your cheek and his other turned your wrist. Something that could be seen as aggressive, domineering, but Merlin you knew that touch fondly.

His eyes locked on your panicked ones, he stared into them with so much desperation, your heart was blaring against your chest in a painful way. He moved closer, until his exhales became your inhales. You took a sharp breath in and held it, you could almost taste that familiar tang, chocolate and coffee, just like every night.

Your free hand applied pressure to his shoulder, but you hardly tried. You caved so easily for him.

It wasn't long until his lips were on yours. Your body relaxed on instinct, pressing against his as your wand dropped to the floor. “Mmm…”

He smiled into the kiss and pushed you back until you hit some poor professor's desk. Hand moving from your cheeks to your lower back, taking control as if laying claim to what he was cheated out of over the summer.

Sirius’s words, for once in his life, made sense. You were distracted with Walburga, of course you wouldn't have been able to come over the summer. You didn't hate him. He knew you didn't. It did make him wonder. What was a Gaunt doing hanging around muggle London? It drove him mad, he knew you so intimately, but clearly didn't have a clue who you really were. He wanted to know more than anything, trying to communicate it wordlessly and taking it out on your bruising lips. You gasped when he bit you, and the sharp pain snapped you out of it.

Looking away quickly he took that as a sign you wanted his kisses elsewhere. He found your neck easily, running his teeth along your jugular, bringing that familiar haze to the forefront of your mind. Only for you to snap out of it again when he took a punishing nip at the sensitive flesh. As if to show you that you've done wrong. Like some kind of dog.

You quickly shoved him back, and got a good look at him. He was flustered, hair a mess from what you realized had been your hand tangling into his lochs. You didn't even remember doing that.

“Get off.” You hissed at him and he seemed taken aback by the pure anger in your voice.

He did as he was told, letting go of you and taking a few steps back. He stared at you and you quickly fixed your clothes, hand going up to your neck and cursing at the tender wet mark. That would bruise, you knew that very well.

“Don't ever touch me again, do you understand me?” You snapped at him. The look he gave you made your heart break. He looked so.. defeated, like you had just taken the world away from him. What? Did he assume things would be like it was? That you would just go back to summer? To be that free… You huffed and leaned off the desk, his eyes scanned over you as if he was trying to decipher what was happening. “You need to keep your hands to yourself, Remus. I need you to tell me you understand that.”

He frowned a bit and slowly nodded. “Yeah. Understood.” He mumbled and you leaned down to get your wand.

“I don't need anyone knowing I associate with anyone lesser than.” You were being harsh, you knew that, but you had to. Less he got ideas this was something he could keep alive.

Much to your dismay, he scoffed. “You don't believe that. You're going to have me believe you would go around with a muggle all summer, but a half blood is too much for you?”

Halfblood.. of bloody course he had to be a half blood. You rolled your eyes hard. “I thought you were a muggle I would never have to see again.”

Another lie. And by the look of it, he knew this one too.

“Sure, sure you did.” He huffed at you and crossed his arms.

You had only seen Remus angry twice, once when you were at the beach with your friends and a random boy came over to try and talk you up, while he was standing right next to you. Remus did not like that. He snaked his arm around your waist and locked his eyes on the poor chap before he left.

You felt cocky, having made the usually well mannered, civil boy so angry. You had looked up at him through your lashes, knowing every move that made the boy crazy, and ignored the flirt outright. Like it was a display of your commitment to your situationship.

The second time was when you were at home and one of your neighbors had been making a racket while you two tried to sleep. He found an easy solution to that problem, and even if he took it out on you in a very exhilarating way, he never had his anger directed at you.

Tonight, it seemed like he had a million different thoughts in his head and all of them pointed at you as the cause. You didn’t blame him.

“I'm serious, Remus. Don't make what happened between us anything more than what it was.” You spat harshly and slipped your wand in your pocket, moving to pass him but he spoke up and stood in front of you. It was slow and calm, like he was herding you.

“What was it then? Enlighten me. You are a clever girl, and you never hesitate to tell me what you want.” Remus’s tone was terrifying at first, you had never heard so much strain and anger in someone's voice before. “So what was it? A three month long game? You introduce me to your friends for a little hit of something dangerous? You take me home and beg me to stay the summer for a quick fuck?” Remus had his hands out and threw them around to emphasize his point. You could see how he was clenching his hands, the veins in his arms harsh and visible. “You tell me you love me for a quick. Fuck?”

You snapped your thoughts back to reality, memories rushing back with every ounce of blood in your body, flushing your skin a tint of embarrassing red.

Your eyes widened, lips parting. “I-I never said that.”

“You did. I know because I was bloody begging you to. I had been imagining it for weeks, and it finally happened. And you acted like it was nothing.” He threw his hands down, putting them to his sides as he looked down at you.

“I thought I imagined it. But that look in your eye,” He gestured to you in aspiration, a clear disjointed hopelessness flickering between his eyes and relayed in his tone. “You can't fake that. I fucking hope you can't.”

He could not explain how much it rattled him. Your arms around his neck while he was rutting against you, your soft sounds egging him on. His hands holding you like you were glass, running up and down your legs to map out your figure for nights without it. Just begging himself. Begging himself to just say it. Just to hear your featherlight words piercing him a knife. The worst part? It was true. He knew it to be true.

You scoffed and turned your back to him, trying to hide your glossy eyes. This felt worse than how you expected. “... I wish I could say, I hate to disappoint you.”

Remus gave a laugh at your display. “What? You don't even know the worst about me, and you're this fucked up about it? That's it? That's all I get?” He stared down at you and you ran your fingers through your hair.

“That summer meant the world to me, you can't sit here and tell me you didn't feel a damn thing about it.” He spat harshly.

You pulled at the strands of your hair and laughed. It truly was like arguing with a partner, your mind kept going back to your concerns for him. You know, however, this time, his self deprecation was your fault. You were doing this to him, and it hurt like hell. “Yes!” You shouted and turned to face him, hands held out to exaggerate. “It meant nothing, Remus. Not a damn thing! I had done it before. Plenty of times.”

Remus rolled his eyes and you walked past him, shoving his shoulder as he tried, in vain, to stop you from running again. He turned to watch you open the door, as you looked back at him. His eyes widened and he looked right past you, but you didn't think about it.

“Stay far away from me, Remus. I mean it. I don't plan to ruin my name and my family legacy over a half breed.” Your words were aimed to kill. Glad his eyes weren't focused on you, you'd surely break. If he hated you, he wouldn't be so obsessed with the idea that you two could be anything more than what you truly were. He didn't need to know you were destined for a loveless life of pamper and spoils. He didn't need to know you would be married off once summer ended. He needed to forget that you fell in love with him that summer. In fact, he needed to think it wasn't true. It would just make this worse. “You need to realize that summer was a mistake. You're right, I don't know the worst of you. I don't care to. It's over. Be a big boy and let it go.”

Remus flinched and looked away, taking a small breath and you relaxed at his reaction. Seeing him finally give in broke your heart, but you were doing far worse to him, you were sure of it. You closed your eyes and turned to look away with a long pause.

“Listen-”

“Man, I hate being right sometimes.”

Your head snapped around and you locked eyes with Sirius Black. Now, you knew him, knew him as Walaburga warned you to stay far away from her disgraced son. You took a sharp breath as you looked across the alarmed and unsettled faces of who you recognize as students who were sitting around Remus in the hall. Lovely, so they surely know.

You collected yourself and straightened your back, waving your hand in a dismissive way. A red headed girl who was staring at you with the most confused look you'd ever seen, stepped aside. You quickly brushed past her and turned sharply to make it down the hall. Not wanting to hear the group talk about you. More so, not wanting to hear how bad you had hurt your moony.

~~~

The walk back to the dorms was hell.

He never knew Sirius could be so quiet. The only thing that could be heard was their soft footsteps making it towards the staircase.

What was worse than the silence, was the whispers. The second the five entered the common room, everyone seemed to be alive with chatter about what had gone down merely an hour ago.

“Remus! What was that?” Marlene shouted from her seat on the couch, turning to face him with a bright smile. Mary closed her book on her lap as Marlene began to turn with her knees in the cushions.

“Come on, Remus! You don't just call the new mystery girl by first name and run away!” She called after him as he walked his way up to Sirius and Peter’s dorms. Mary reached up and yanked Marlene down by her ear. The blonde yelped and fell easily into Mary’s lap. Looking up at her with a cheeky grin, much like James, puddy to her girlfriend. “Hey! I mean- Hey~”

Mary rolled her eyes and glanced back to see Lily send her an appreciative look before she followed the boys into what was once their shared dorm room.

She closed the door behind her and looked up to see Remus sitting in his old bed and staring at the wall. She sighed and put her hands on her hips.

James bit his cheek and rolled his jaw a bit. “Hey, Remus, I know it's not what you want to hear-”

“Then don't say it.” Remus groaned and covered his face. His lips still tingled from the kiss. It shouldn't have been this hard. He knew you were out of his league, the moment you mentioned your causal springs in Paris and winters in Australia. Your small comments while you spoiled him through the summer, with gifts and sweets, he knew at least three of his outfits in his luggage were from you. He didn't know if he wanted to frame or burn them.

Lily gave him her soft eyes, the ones that usually made Remus feel at his safest. Now, all he could think about was what it meant to be held by you, just hours after his transformation. True safety was your arms.

“Lily-”

“I know.” Lily whispered and moved to sit beside him on the bed. He looked at her as she placed her hand on his wrist and lowered it. She interlocked their fingers and she traced shapes along the back of his palm. It burned, almost like she was branding his very flesh. Another reminder he would never feel you trace your name in his back again. Like how you had done, on the beach, leaving your initials along his spine when the tan took over.

“How's Moony?” Lily whispered and Remus gave a deep sigh.

“He won't shut up. He's clawing at my throat.” He mumbled and Lily slowly rested her head against his shoulder, hand running up his arm and rubbing it.

“Do you think.. maybe he'll grow to get over it?” She whispered, slowly pressing her nose to his arm. “Like before?” She whispered lower and Remus grimaced.

“It's nothing compared to knowing she's.. she's so close. And I just can't-” He lifted his hands and she let hers untangle from his. “I can't..” He clenched his fists and slowly rubbed his forehead. “I need her.”

“Remus, you don't need her,” Lily tried to interject before she flinched at the look in his eyes. He looked dangerous, like she had denied him something vital. Then she realized, right. Three days, coming on the next full moon.

Moony was on edge. Remus wasn't usually this in tune with him, he did his best to ignore him day to day. But you had been his weakness from day one.

Normally, for Remus, he wouldn't dare say anything to a pretty girl in a record store. One who carried herself with so much confidence and determination. He should have taken note, your expensive shoes for a casual walk, your outfit wreaked of old money and your attitude alone showed you were used to being treated like a princess.

But Merlin, if you didn't have him and Moony on the same page for once. You were just his type, and yet the complete opposite at the same time. He was whipped before he knew your name.

By the time you said his, he was done for.

So he did everything in his power to avoid running into you again. A muggle and a half blood wizard tainted with wolf blood, what a romantic pair. He would do far more damage to who he thought you were then to any witch he'd ever meet. He would never want to force himself on someone so perfect. Then you showed up that night on his walk home and ruined everything. Ruined him.

Yet he still wanted more.

Remus snapped from his thoughts. He noticed Lily’s hesitation before slowly sighing. He shouldn't be taking it out on his friends, he knew that.

Peter snuck his way over to Remus. He wasn't one for many words, but he handed him a chocolate bar. Remus couldn't help but smile, the same thing Peter always did to comfort him. “Thank you.” He whispered.

Lily looked back to James and Sirius, giving a long sigh through her nose.

They both seemed locked in a silent conversation with their eyes. Lily gave a huff through her nose and slapped her hand down onto her lap as she glared at the two.

“Merlin's beard! Your friend is here distressed, say something!” Lily snapped at them and Remus put his hand on her shoulder.

“Lily, it's okay.” He mumbled before Sirius spoke up.

“I would! But James said I'll only make it worse!”

“Because you have a habit of it!” James challenged and Lily scoffed.

“Sirius, say what you must.” She groaned and Sirius bit his cheek before he sighed.

“Well.. she's a pureblood. You described her completely different then how she is now, and she got special training from mother dearest.” Sirius mused as he counted each point on his fingers. “Three strikes and she's been brainwashed.”

Lily furrowed her eyebrows before she looked at Remus who shook his head. James began to gesture wildly at Sirius. “Told you so!”

“She.. she's too strong willed to be broken so easily.” He mumbled and paused. He remembered your words carefully. Every memory of you was tainted and made Moony howl out in desperation for his pack back. His love back. You seemed so real.

You would be so prim and proper outside, Merlin, you used proper dining etiquette at the rundown muggle diners he could hardly afford to take you, like it was second nature. But behind closed doors? You were more of a gremlin then you were a girl at times. Huddled up on the couch in his oversized clothes with your hair a mess and eating cereal from the box. Eyes still messy from sleep and drool still dried on your chin.

He wanted to believe that was the real you. That was the one he fell in love with. If that was you, and it had to be, then maybe not brainwashed but.. the pressure was getting to you. He knew Sirius struggled with it at times, being an heir to an entire dynasty was daunting. That had to be it.

“... I can wait.” He resolved, earning a curious look from everyone in the room.

“I can wait for her to realize I'm worth it.” He whispered, and earned a shocked look from Lily, James seemed ecstatic, Sirius looked bewildered. Even Peter’s jaw dropped.

Sirius slowly smirked. Hell yeah moons, you are worth it.

Lily engulfed him in a hug, smiling bright. Peter clapped a hand on his shoulder, but no one looked prouder than James.

Tomorrow was a new day.

~~~

The second you got back to the dorms you were overwhelmed by the eyes on you. You were aware the bruise was already forming on your neck, so you had wrapped yourself up in your green scarf. Chin high, practiced and poised, you had to remember.

This wasn't Dumstrang. You had actual power here.

You stepped past the couch, glancing over to a boy. He had straight black hair and bright eyes, a lazy smirk on his face. You knew him, you knew every pureblood your father seemed to think it was worth knowing.

“Mulciber.” You quipped and took a moment to pause. He looked you over before he leaned forward, elbows to his thighs. “Well, if it isn't the Slytherin princess.”

His tone made your nose scrunch up, waving your hand dismissively. “Do not address me so informally.” You snapped back and it seemed to only egg on his interest. The voices around you quieting down, as if your conversation was the most important thing in the entire common room.

This would be interesting… By the looks on everyone's faces, the two of them must have looked like dragons raring their fangs at each other.

“Sorry, sorry doll, just saw that Half breed calling you by first name, I was wondering what kind of privileges us purebloods had.” He chuckled and stood up, earning a laugh from the boy beside him, Avery. You crossed your arms and turned to face him with a harsh glare. Even Avery had the good sense to fake a cough in the chillingly silent common room.

“Watch your tongue, Mulciber. I think you forget who you're speaking to.” You snapped and he put his hands up and playfully flinched back, like you were a caged cat hissing more than a Gaunt. “I suggest you learn to respect your superiors.”

“Superiors?” He laughed, walking closer to lean down. He was as tall as a bloody tree, not as tall as Remus, but enough to remind you that your wand was very hard to salvage in an emergency.

“Are you my superior, love? Who's yours?” He smirked and reached for your scarf. Your hand found your pocket, securing your grip on your wand handle. “Let me guess.. that little half breed had some-”

His wrist was grabbed harshly before he could remove the cloth covering up any evidence of Remus’s wandering lips. Your eyes followed the pale arm and your eyebrows raised at the sight of the youngest Black son, Regulus.

You suddenly remembered that old hags warning, that her youngest son and new heir would be at the school, in your house, as if there was not a shred of doubt you would be in Slytherin. That she would inform him to look after you, ensuring your father there was no funny business happening. Just great…

He looked a lot like Sirius, just angry and a bit more feminine. You wonder how two boys clearly so similar could be so different. It was evident, even if you couldn't see the peaking snake tattoo on his wrist from where you stood.

“Back off, Mulciber.” He warned in a cutting tone. You looked back at the offender as he scoffed and snatched his hand away. “Just looking, Reggie.” He sneared with a smirk. You huffed and turned to him with an apprehensive look. Sizing up the boy two years younger than you, he couldn't be older than 16, he still had a bit of a baby face, and a hollow face. Terrifying how much he looked like his mother.

He just gave you a nod and gestured to his side. “I'll take you to your room, Gaunt.”

You cautiously accepted his help, hands behind your back as you walked towards the steps he gestured to. Resolving within yourself to return back to your younger mindset.

Merlin this would be a long year.

~~~

The next day, waking up was a chore in itself.

Remus toughed through it, making his way to the great hall with some prodding from Lily. He couldn't say no, she had traveled all the way from the head dorms to the prefects to retrieve him.

When he sat down, the table felt lively again, but he could still feel all the eyes on him. He caught you at the Slytherin table, you had done your makeup and you were dressed up in subtle jewelry he remembered from the summer before. You took extra care of your appearance, and you seemed to effortlessly have every Slytherin wrapped around your finger.

You seemed so.. fake. So doll-like. You had a harsh and exact scowl, you looked dangerous but alluring, your eyes fluttered despite your clear stoic expression. When attention was given to you, you held it so effortlessly and that made his stomach turn. You used to look so much happier. When you were with him.

Sirius made some comment about your company, it was only then he noticed you were sitting with Regulus Black.

Remus didn't like to admit he could be a jealous person. Anytime you had teased him about his protectiveness, his unspoken claim over what was ‘his’ he would deny it.

Or better, blame it on Moony.

This time, it wouldn't be an entire lie. He felt his worse half begin to tear at the back of his head, shooting a painful jolt down his spine. His grip on his spoon tightened, as he watched you look at the younger boy with a practiced pout. Your eyelashes fluttered again as you played the part well, just a pretty arm piece with a valuable name.

Regulus seemed indifferent to your behavior, but still entertained your presence. More then could be said for most. Acting like a proper pureblood gentleman, and as he leaned down to whisper something in your ear, he heard James let out a shocked squeak.

Snapping back to, Remus looked over to James and narrowed his eyes, practically fuming. “What?”

“Mate.” Sirius prodded and met his eyes. The black haired boys were full of a strange kind of worry.

“What?” Remus pressed.

“Look at your arm mate.” Sirius stressed and gestured to his hand. The one clenching the metal in his palm, patches of discolored grey and long hairs spread across his hand and arm. His nails growing claw like, just a few of them, before they greyed out. His body grew stiff and dread filled him. What the actual fuck? What was happening?

Then the pain came, the very familiar bone breaking stretch of his flesh. He dropped the spoon in shock and gave a sharp hiss.

As shock overtook his anger, his hand began to return to normal. He sighed and rubbed his wrist and looked back up at you and Regulus, watching you get up and Regulus grabbed your bag for you, walking you out of the Grand Hall.

Remus felt a growl leave his throat and he quickly reached up to grab his throat, and his eyes widened. They locked with Lily’s own wide eyes from across from him. “Remus…” She whispered, and he avoided her eyes, looking down at his food.

Great, He thought, another freakish thing she can hate about me.

[temis-de-leon]

Day 21 - Comforting while crying kiss

Characters: Solomon x fem!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: college anxiety, memories about bad friends, worried Solomon, established relationship

A/N: not the most relatable because I made it as a continuation for this, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

.

Studying in the human real again wasn’t something she ever thought would become a reality, especially when she didn’t want to do it at all, but she should’ve learnt long ago that no thing in life was impossible.

Her best friends, if not her only friends, were demons and angels; she was dating King Solomon the Wise. Going back to college should not feel that weird.

And yet.

There she was, sitting on her ankles in a hidden corner under the staircase of the main entrance. The heat of June burned her hair and made her cupid’s bow sweat, but it was the stress of finals what made her feel feverish. Her backpack laid pathetically near her, the zipper opened enough to let her see some crumpled papers full of scribbles and a couple of pens with no caps.

It was draining. Sitting alone at the table, remembering the presence of those who left her behind laughing at her jokes and helping her study, acting like true friends when God knows what they were saying behind her back. The tiles of the floor and the graffiti on the benches remained the same, but the walls were different and the buildings had gone through some serious renovations. What hurt her the most, surprisingly, was the sight of the brand new cafeteria, which now looked like a hospital ward.

MC’s lips trembled at the thought of change and evolution, of coming so far just to return to the same place that made her feel so lonely.

First periods on Mondays, back when she was eighteen, were hectic. The hallways were cold and the elevator was always occupied because a blind guy with his guide dog had to go to the last floor and whoever decided to be stubborn and wait for the elevator to be free was always late to class. One of the coffee machines forever remained out of service and the other one only had one flavour worth paying: hazelnut. MC didn’t even like coffee and still bought a couple of those every now and then.

The blind guy already graduated, she supposed. Both coffee machines worked and they even had other vending machines filling the empty spaces of the hallways. Warm hallways, that is. The Styrofoam cups didn’t smell like hazelnut anymore, but rather something more generic and impersonal.

MC couldn’t recognize the scent and it made her mad. It made her cry. And the foolishness of the situation made her cry even harder.

Her weeping filled the corner she was hiding in and she felt incredibly grateful that the evening classes had already started, but not much time would pass until anyone inside would open the windows in search of any possible breeze.

Determined to not let the damn building see her cry more than necessary, MC grabbed her things and pitifully walked down the street, looking at the flowers with deep yearning like she too wished she was buried underground and left alone to absorb light and look pretty.

Fortunately for her mood, her phone vibrated in her pocket and showed a very familiar name. She tried to swallow tears and clear her voice before answering.

“Is everything okay, MC?”

She’d never fool him.

Solomon sounded extremely worried. The sheer surprise at his reaction made her stop in her tracks to wonder just how much he knew her. Before she could ponder about it too much, however, someone near her called her name.

There he was, sitting on the hood of a car that MC knew wasn’t his. He called her once more to urge her and, thankfully, by the time she reached him the crying had already stopped. Her skin felt sticky with sweat and fallen tears and she felt an incipient headache threatening to break her mind.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah”

She forced herself to swallow, hating the blockage in her nose, and Solomon looked at her in pity, clearly wanting to console without going too far.

“You know you can trust me, right?”

His eyes turned sad and MC felt the familiar sting in the back of her throat. Although her first impulse was to continue denying her pain and leave the whole thing behind, she knew that if she didn’t ask her boyfriend, of all people, to take care of her, then the turmoil would become much worse.

“I do” she assured him, holding his hand in slow movements. He immediately held her back and her eyes watered again “I’m just really tired, you know?”

There, under the sun, where no one was there to see the scene, Solomon opened his arms and sighed when she rushed towards him. MC tried to ignore the tears staining his white coat, hugging him instead to hide from the rest of the world. There was a gentle pressure on top of her head, a soft kiss that made her shoulders relax and lean into him further.

“Do you want to go back home? Take a nap?”

MC didn’t know what home he was talking about, but she didn’t care. Without letting him go, she nodded against his chest and made herself comfortable. Home was wherever as long as he was there with her.

.

.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers

[rollinouttahere-writes]

May I request Ace with Y , X , S , N , M and A please?

The limit is 5, but since I already answered A and N in another post, I'll let it go lol

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Answered here.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes, Ace's darling absolutely gets special treatment in terms of how he behaves around them. Other people will definitely be able to see that he loves and adores you, but to them Ace just looks like a normal boyfriend. In general, he comes off like a pretty friendly and reasonable guy. No one would ever suspect his yandere side or how messy his emotions can get.

When he's alone with you, everything is more intense and raw. His confidence is largely gone and you see how uncertain he truly is in life. You are the only person that he'll fully confide in, so you'll know him much more intimately than anyone else could ever hope to. He isn't even this open and honest with Luffy.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Answered here.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His childhood and the issues that he's carried with him ever since those days are the reason he's like this. Even with his brothers around, he always had this gnawing loneliness from feeling like he was a uniquely evil individual because of who his father is. When your own grandfather can't even look you in the eye and tell you that you deserve to be alive, that is going to ruin your psyche. If you aren't worthy of life, obviously you aren't worthy of love.

But then he finds someone that loves him. Despite everything, his darling can love someone as monstrous as him? It doesn't matter if you haven't said it. Actions speak louder than words, so you being generally kind and loving when you two first meet is enough to have him feeling like he's found his soulmate. He's sure that he'll never get this lucky again, so of course he'll never let you go.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

This man worships the ground you walk on and cherishes the air you breathe. You're everything to him. You're a perfect angel that gives him the sweet comfort of someone to have and to hold, heart and soul. Someone that gives him something so precious only deserves the best treatment possible.

Before he takes you, he's pulling out all the stops to get you to come with him willingly. He'll be giving you gifts and bringing you on dates while only displaying his best qualities. Ace can be extremely endearing and charming, so there is a very high chance that you will initially be compliant with him. His darling being cooperative in the beginning is kind of crucial to him becoming yandere for you. If you reject him or get too harsh before he's completely fallen for you, it'll make his heart clam up and he won't form that intense connection.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It is not a long process. Two weeks tops. Ace falls hard and fast if his darling gives him what he craves. Their warm comfort makes his own flames feel cold by comparison, and he gets addicted quick. As soon as he feels like you've "accepted" him, your fate is sealed. You are coming with him whether you like it or not. Putting up a fight won't be enough to deter him once he's fallen for you. At that point, he feels like he needs you too much to back out now. He's hopeful that you'll come around and go back to your old self sooner or later.

[softmangoes]

until sunrise | eden x defiant!pc

18+ only

summary: you ask eden if you can go to town to run some errands. reluctantly, he says yes. sequel to cabin fever.

includes: defiant! fem pc, yearning, domesticity, a very needy eden

author's note: i had so much fun writing the first fic that i got excited to work on this one. i love eden so much, so please let me know what you think! comments always keep me going 🫶🏾

-

"you want to leave?" eden tenses. instinctively, he holds you tighter, thinking of the time you actually managed to run away. it was a while ago, but he could still feel the cold spike of fear as he tracked you through the forest.

"what," you say. "you don't trust me?"

it's not that he doesn't. he wants to. he does. it's just that after being alone for so long, he's finally found you, and now you want to leave?

the forest provides. its boughs offer wood for shelter, fruit for food. its animals bare their necks to gift flesh and fur for meals and warmth. and then there is the quiet, which is something the town never had. the quiet that eases eden's nerves, lets him think.

in the wilderness, there is nothing else he could want. he thought that after being here for a while, you would feel the same. he's provided for you, hasn't he? he's been good to you. why would -

"eden." your fingers brush his hair away from his face. what would he do, knowing he'd be without your touch? "i can hear you thinking."

it's not like him to lose his composure. on a hunt, it could cost him a meal - a bullet whizzing far past its target. in this moment, he averts his gaze. swallows.

"is it because there's someone else?" he says, quiet.

you had a life before him. he's well aware of that. before, when he would watch you spend your afternoons at the lake, he would occassionally see you have picnics with a brunette boy with a voice so soft that you had to move closer just to listen to him.

fear wraps cold tendrils around his heart. was that who you wanted? someone who still had kindness in their eyes?

"i have you." your lips feather across his cheeks. "how can there be someone else when you're all i need?"

need. it's such a terrible, wonderful thing, isn't it? before you, he thought he never needed much. since the night you told him you would stay, the thought of being around you has become as essential as air. as cherished as the quiet.

he needs you. but as much as he wants to keep you within his reach, eden knows you well enough that a cage would be the last thing you would ever want.

"a day," he says. your lips hover over his, your breath sweet with the scent of berries you had picked together earlier that morning. "nothing more, and you come back."

the kiss you give him is full of relief, gratitude. he pulls you onto his lap and the couch creaks at the shift in weight. when he brings his mouth to your neck, he bites you hard enough to leave a bruise. the throbbing will give you something to remember him by while you're gone. you touch the bloom of broken capillaries with a smile.

the next morning, he holds you tightly at the end of the forest path.

"i have to be back before breakfast tomorrow," you say, muffled by his embrace. "it'll still take me hours to get to town."

it's fall, so the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he takes an uneasy step back. there's a chill in the air, so he adjusts the scarf he's given you around your neck.

"you can come earlier than that," he tells you. "it'd be better if you do."

i'd feel better if you do, he thinks.

you smile knowingly and take his hand. he swears he'll never get used to it, how tenderly you hold him even after everything he's done. even though he is who he is.

"i'll miss you, too," you say before you leave.

for a moment, after he watches you walk through the bushes, he thinks about following you. of course, he would only do it to make sure you get there safely. he'd promised to protect you, didn't he?

but you didn't need that. you were already strong when he found you and you had given him quite the fight when he brought you to the cabin. he was sure you were capable of protecting yourself. for both your sakes, you had to be.

he slings his rifle over his shoulder. how about a deer for dinner once you got back? you always liked his venison roasts. they take long to track, but even longer to cook. at least it would give him something to do while you're away.

hours later, eden lowers his rifle. the shot is clean - straight to the temple without any damage to the hide. he hefts the fallen doe over his shoulder. this early in the season, she hasn't shed too much of her fat gained from the spring and the summer. her meat will make a fine roast, one worthy of welcoming you back.

eden dresses her away from the cabin, gathering her hide and meat. in a few days, he'll come back for the bones after they've been picked clean.

the weather is cool enough that he can place the flesh in the root cellar until he's ready to use it. there are still a few hours left in the day, so he uses them to strip the hide.

as he draws the fleshing knife over the stretched skin, his mind wanders.

normally, he'd find peace in the monotony of this kind of work, allowing his mind clear while you read a book on the patio's rocking chair. but now, all he could think about was where you were. all he could think about was how silent the cabin was without you there to fill the air with your laughter. when he looks up, he watches the empty chair sway in the breeze.

once he's done fleshing the hide, eden eats a late lunch of stewed cabbage and sausage. it's the last thing you prepared and while it's delicious, it does not soothe the ache of your absence.

dinner isn't any better. he eats quickly, sopping up the broth on his plate with a hank of crusty bread.

once he curls up with a book by the fireplace, it's only then that his mind quiets. for as long as he could remember, he's always loved reading. stories were his first escape. they allowed him to imagine a future different from his past.

the first time you had asked him to read to you, he was confused.

"your voice," you told him. "it's pretty."

"pretty?" he scoffed. "that can't be the right word for it."

"like thunder rumbling in the distance." you kissed his neck, your hands slipping under his sweater. "a shift in the tide." his breath caught. "i could listen to you all night and it would never be enough."

right now, eden flips his way through a weathered paperback, the spine cracked white throughout.

soon, the both of you would fall back into your routine.

he feels more at ease - somewhat - but perhaps it's because of the anticipation that flutters in his chest. the day is almost done and tomorrow, as promised, he will wake to welcome you home. the thought warms him like the first sunrise of spring, melting away the long winter frost.

still, his chest tightens.

what if he never heard your knock? what if dawn came and you didn't? you wouldn't do that, would you? you would keep your word.

ah, but he's done so many bad things. he hurt you, even as you kicked and clawed at him. back then, he was selfish, wanting nothing else but your body to warm the cold nights.

things were different, now. the way you looked at him was softer. fond. at night, you would take his hand and hold it until you fell asleep. in turn, he'd wake you with a kiss to the forehead, waiting until you stirred in his arms. eden was yours and you were his. you wouldn't leave him. you wouldn't you wouldn't you wouldn't -

the book falls apart in his hands with a sharp rip.

"fuck," he says, placing the ruined pieces onto the couch.

he takes a deep breath, deciding that it would be wise to turn in early. that way, he'd get enough rest to properly take care of you after your long trek through the forest.

the bed is cold when he slips in. outside the cabin window, the crickets croon softly in the night for their lovers. eden places a palm against the bed's empty space, his fingers gathering the sheets. it takes a long time for him to close his eyes.

the next morning, there's a knock at the door.

eden is there just as you swing it open.

"the way back is so much harder," you huff, dropping a couple of duffel bags onto the floor along with your backpack. "i tripped on so many roots. maybe we could spend a day clearing the path more?"

sweat has plastered your hair to your forehead and your cheeks are red with exertion. there are fragments of leaf debris sticking to your skin. you have never looked more beautiful.

eden gathers you into his arms.

he takes you on the table, lays your body down like a feast. the oak whines against the cabin floor, but it holds. when he carved it a few years ago, he made sure it would be sturdy.

"hey, wait," you start, trying to fend him off. but you're too tired, too weak from the journey back. it's alright, though. he's here to give you a proper welcome.

somehow, you manage to kick off your boots. he drags down your hiking pants, grabs ahold of your thighs.

already, you're so wet for him. he can smell it. have you been wanting this as badly as he has, he wonders. the thought drives him wild.

eden brings his mouth to your bare hip as he peels off your underwear with one hand. he licks a trail further and further downward until he's between your legs.

you hiss at the sensation of his tongue on you, his hands clasped securely around your thighs.

"i've been waiting," he says gruffly. "for this."

and when his tongue, thick and hot, pushes itself inside of you, you can do nothing else but squirm.

one of his massive hands slips under your tank top, beneath your bra, to take your nipple between his fingers.

it's all so much. you wrap a hand around his wrist, steadying yourself as he fucks you with his mouth.

once he's satisfied, eden moves to suck on your clit, groaning in approval when your hips twitch against his face.

your core tightens, back arching as the orgasm takes you.

eden pulls away. a moment later, you hear the rustling of fabric. he's removed his lounge pants.

he licks his lips, which are glistening with your wetness.

"i was worried you wouldn't come back," he says, taking a hold of your hips to pull you closer to his aching cock. "but here you are, being so good for me." eden slips inside of you slowly, making you feel every moment he's missed you. "i think you deserve a reward."

then he rips through your tank top and bra. you gasp at the sudden coolness against your skin, his ravenous hunger making you feel vulnerable.

eden fucks himself into you, planting rough kisses across your chest and collarbone.

"so tight," he praises. "and all mine."

when you come, clenching down on him so deliciously, he crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as you writhe beneath him.

he's close, the yearning he had pent up the day prior threatening to make him spill, but he does not relent. instead, he bites the inside of his cheek, the pain lancing through his wave of pleasure so he can last longer.

has it only been a day since you were last together? no, that can't be right. it feels like forever. he'll have to make up for all that lost time.

with the pad of his fingers, eden rubs small circles against your swollen clit, coaxing another orgasm from you as he pushes himself deeper to reach the spot he knows will make you keen.

it's when you tongue at the hollow of his neck, nails raking across his back, that he comes gasping your name.

you hold each other, the wooden planks creaking softly under your weight.

"christ," you pant, forehead pressed against his. "i was barely through the fucking door."

he laughs - it's a deep, guttural grumble that he only ever does around you. it reminds you of thunder, of storms.

he blushes, shy. "i, ah, got excited."

eden gathers you into his arms and you wash up quickly, the both of you eager to spend the rest of the day together.

"such a sweetheart," you say, kissing him on the cheek. "you missed me a lot, didn't you?"

once you're clean, fed, and settled, you begin to unpack the spoils you gathered from town. there are the hefty duffel bags full of eden's supplies: boxes of bullets, rope for snare traps, canned food, and kerosene for the lamps.

from your backpack, you procure extra sets of clothes you bought at the mall along with a short guides on canning produce and soapmaking you found at the outdoor shop. he glances at the pile of ruined clothing he had torn to get to you and scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed.

lastly, you take out a hefty rectangular bundle wrapped in brown paper. it's secured with a ribbon made of twine.

"what's this?" he asks.

you look at the fire, sheepish. you were never very good with words.

"i know the paperbacks are cheaper, but they're too small for your hands," she says.

he tears through the packaging. inside are hardcover copies of his favorite books, along with some new releases.

"you like their work the most," you tell him. "i've noticed that you reread their books a lot."

eden is speechless. you thought of him, then, even though you were gone? he takes a moment to imagine you perusing the bookstore, scanning the shelves for something to take home with you. 

"i don't know what to say," he says, setting the books on the table beside him. when was the last time he'd received a gift? for the life of him, he can't remember. if he had, then that memory has been long buried by the past.

"you could thank me," you say, taking his hand to your face. your eyes darken as you slip two of his fingers into your mouth. "or you could show me."

warmth ignites his core. he pulls you closer, hunger making him lick his teeth.

one day is long enough.

sunlight filters through the glass windows. he smiles, admiring the sight of you finally back in his arms.

you don't make it out of the cabin until the next morning.

[nuumbie]

BRIGHT STAR

Prompt: And so live—ever or else swoon to death. Dain, what does that strand of hair mean to you? Someone you must kill? Or an object of your penitence?

Author’s Note: The Road Not Taken Trailer stuck with me. Abyss Prince/Princess ! Reader. Something overtook me while writing this… I wrote this so I’ve officially have proof of writing for all three fandoms this blog writes for… but at what cost… ( my sanity )

Trigger Warnings: Depression and not being mentally good is pretty heavy handed, the idea of “missing” someone, grief and loss, just generally upsetting mental concepts. And of course. Genshin Spoilers…

Codependency, babes!

Cursed to live as an immortal. His life no longer belonged to only him. For every life which could no longer speak. He would live in their place. Until his body had decayed. Until he could no longer move. Until he had lost all vigor and passion to try.

That day would never come. Even now. He’s never lost focus from his dream.

When he meets you all he's managed to save is the sky.

The sky to the world which has taken everything from him. He wondered if his brethren would be happy to continue the shared existence of this world even after they’re gone. To care for the soil which they once lived. The same world that had taken everything from him was once his home. For every beauty, there was a sadness. He was still preserving its existence. Because. If he hadn’t there would be nothing left of him.

Yes, he was a traveler back then — directionless and without a purpose. Without meaning. A wanderer without a home to return to. Only memories.

Such different lives. Yet you met at the same road at the same time. Khaenri'a Land. He remembers the destruction, the screaming, all the lives lost while he watched helpless.

You share those memories. Why was it. That fate chose to let you both live? Was it destiny’s cruel game? That you both found yourselves in the same world with the same matching wounds.

He wonders when you changed paths?

The world moves on while you both stand there. Firmly rooted in that place and time. Perhaps, he could have stayed there forever.

He remembers— you’re the one who broke the silence. The memory grows farther and farther. But his time with you is something he’s yet to let go. He holds onto it. The memory is similar. It brings him comfort and pain. That’s why it’s meaningful.

“The Gods.” you walk next to him, you’ve already seen to found your answer as you tilt your head up towards him. You’re the first pair of eyes in a long time who’s peered into him to acknowledge his existence. To stare at him. To see him. He hasn’t communicated in awhile. He can’t remember how long. So, it’s somewhat affirming to have someone stare at him. To see him. “Are the worst.”

He stares out at the fallen rubble before meeting your gaze. There’s a burning light behind your eyes. Something that rivals the force of the sky. “They are.”

“The Gods look down at the people all the same, yet they meddle with their lives and twist them so.” you laugh. “It’s just not fair. Why is it out of my control?”

Dainsleif’s eyes catch the bodies underneath the rubble, crushed fingers grasping for things they’ll never reach. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re traveling too, right? I know you are.” You glance over the fallen wreckage as if that’s proof enough that he’s lost. “I’m a traveler too… I’m looking for my sibling.”

He can hear the yearning in your tone. You have faith unlike him. You still have a chance.

Your voice says you believe that so firmly with all of your heart. Dainsleif glances at the gathered proof there’s nothing left for him at his feet.

“…”

“Come with me.” You finally say. “Travel with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m lonely.” Is your only reply. You don’t look at him. A life-long regret. He’ll never have gotten to known what you were thinking.“You seemed lonely, too.”

Did he?

He hadn’t noticed. He hasn’t seen his own face in a long time. At that time — it felt so simple. There wasn’t truly any deep, meaningful, reason to accept your request. He could have easily parted ways there. What difference would that have made on your journey?

But… perhaps he was lonely. For he had so far to walk. And he had nothing else to do but to live.

“500 mora.”

“Huh?” You squint your eyes somewhat baffled by how quick of a response he shoots ought. “I— that’s too cheap. Why? Is this a weekly payment or something?”

“In a way it is.” He sighs while turning his back and already beginning to walk. “500 mora every week.”

“It should around as much money needed to buy the ingredients for sticky honey roast.”

You give him the stink eye.

But you’re lonely enough to begrudgingly take the mora out into his hands. You make a point to showcase your discontent as you scrounge through your wallet. You don’t have very much money on you at all.

But you pay the fare so you both go on a journey.

People change lives. You’ve changed the impact of his.

-

Your first stop is Mondstadt. He’s buying the ingredients for tonight’s dinner. He has a bit extra change to spare. Mondstadt’s prices are cheap.

It’ll get harder to save when you reach the other nations. So, it’s better to save up now.

He realizes you’ve escaped his side a little too late. He looks around— when he isn’t looking you’re already a distance away from him. Even though you’re the one who asked him to walk this path with you. You’re always walking ahead or too far behind.

You’re staring at the Mondstadt Fountain. In hindsight. It’s a very pretty fountain. Simple but effective. But you’re staring at the water a bit too closely. He walks up from behind you and stares at his own reflection which looks back at him. You’re rather enamored by your own face.

You both do look strange in comparison to the locals. People have been giving you both odd-stares. He makes a face at the water and tries to smile.

He doesn’t look very accommodating nor welcoming at all. His smile drops rather quickly when it looks strange on his face. Unnatural.

Dainsleif is secretly glad that your eyes are always directed everywhere but him.

Glancing towards you. You don’t look at the water like it’s a reflection of yourself but someone else looking back at you.

You finally notice his staring though it’s far too late. You jump up a little — but you pretend like you weren’t so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him sneak up on you. Like always. He doesn’t tell you he knows. You’ve fallen into a pattern like that.

“Do you have a coin?” You glance at him and try to change topics quickly while holding out your palm. “Dain.“

“Ah.” He looks at you and blinks as he realizes what’s going through your head. Though, he wonders if it’s something else. You were staring at your own face. “Oh… that is a Mondstadt Custom. Making wishes… I see. Are you curious? Then…”

He takes out the coin. The leftovers. It’s a meaningless gesture. But, you stare at him like it’s what matters most in this world. So he indulges in you.

The borough keeper does not have anything to wish for. He realizes rather quickly. He glances down at the coin in all its glory. And there is nothing in the world he can realistically get that he truly wants.

His hand grows a little shaky at that thought. Nothing to wish for. So he instead directs it towards you and drops it into the palms of your hand like it’s precious.

“You should do it, then.” His voice is impassive as usual. “You’re the one who has a wish. So, why should I?”

Somewhat dumbly you take the coin in your shaky palms as he gives it to you. “Huh? Seriously…?”

“Fine… I guess I will then…”

You think— it doesn’t take that long. The coin hits the water with a somewhat disappointing ‘thump’.

Not nearly as long. You’ve already have your mind up. You glance at the water. “I’ll have to make it come true myself in the end. I’m still going to work as hard.”

“Then, what’s the point of the wish?” Dainsleif asks.

“It’s insurance.” You sigh. “It’s comforting. You seriously have no trace of romance in your heart.”

“What did you wish for?” Dainsleif looks at the coin sunken at the bottom of the fountain. ( It will be gone when he comes back to reflect on the memories. A world which people resort to stealing wish money from wells. )

“If I say it then it won’t come true. You’re meant to keep it a secret, Dain. That’s how wishes work.”

Is that so?

He knows what you wished for. But he doesn’t say it.

Some things are better kept never never said.

-

He's growing older.

You travel to a Liyuan Village, Quingce. It's the perfect day. You’ve both arrived at perfect timing. They’re holding a small festival to celebrate the living at the time with bright lights and fireworks in the sky. Momentous and bright.

The joy they experience is vibrant. Savory smells wafting through the hair. A memory which will be long-lived in each villager’s mind. In comparison. The both of you stand out. Throughout the laughter, the joy, you both sit there in relative silence alone together. Two unhappy people painted against a happy scene.

The sky being dyed in such unnatural colors reminds him of the day the sky was bathed red. Do you see the same sky as him when you stare up at such flashing lights, too?

You're whispering. Do you expect him not to hear? The sound of the fireworks is loud. Each with a loud snapping pop. He wouldn't expect you to be paying attention to him instead of the loud bursts of flashing lights. So he assumes you’d have the same line of thought. Somehow, Dainsleif’s eyes always find his way to you.

"We don't belong in this world." Are the words that leave your mouth. He doesn't respond. You repeat it quieter. "We don't belong here."

You’re looking at the children who dance among the bright stars together. He notices a pair of children holding the other’s hand tightly.

You’re curled up in fetal position. Your knees pressed against your chest. It looks painful.

l. You stand at a ten foot distance to him.

You don’t say anything else and continue to watch the fireworks. Not once does a smile ever cross your face.

When you walk back to your hotel room your voice is weak and you’re clutching tightly to your own shirt.

“Dain.” You make conversation. “Do you think we could be happy?”

He doesn’t know.

“There’s still a long way ahead. Don’t lose hope.”

“I know I can’t.” You sigh. “I know that.”

“It’s just hard sometimes.” You look outside your fingers brushing against the glass of the window against the painted sky and the people packing up. “They don’t know a thing.”

“It’s just unfair.” You laugh. “Why can’t I live like that?”

“But that’s how it is.”

“…”

There’s a silence which lasts only a little. It seems you don’t wish to continue down this line of thought. You give.

“Guess so.” Your eyes meet his and you smile sheepishly. “I’m glad I know you. I’m not alone.”

But you are. That’s why you asked. Because you felt there was nobody who could understand.

And, perhaps, he still doesn’t know you either. No. He’s sure he doesn’t.

When you bring a topic up. It’s very likely you never bring it up again.

He doesn’t usher it out of you. The next morning you wave the children and all the adults goodbye wishing them happy lives. They’re kind and wish him and you both the very same.

They’re younger than you both yet you’ll both grow to outlive them. You’re fundamentally different. He will never be able to understand them.

Dainsleif presumes that’s the same case with the two of you as well.

-

In Inazuma you take a quick resting stop before you reach the grand island You plan on camping that night among the dangerous but beautiful land. You seem enraptured that night. You’ve gone into the slow flowing river. It seemed clear. So he hadn’t stopped you from dipping your feet.

You reach your hands towards the bright sky and the stars above.

You’re in a far off place. He wonders if he could reach you if he had actually tried.

He doesn’t bother.

Dainsleif sits there and watches your distant figure watch the stars.

He watches after you. Some days. Just bystander in your life.

You stay like that for awhile before you finally return to him. You’re holding your shoes in your hand— you drop them before awkwardly plopping yourself next to him.

“They told me if I was ever lost. All I needed to do was look up to the stars because we’d be looking up at the same sky.”

"I wonder what they'd think if they saw it. The stars are beautiful here. Even though the sky itself is the cause of all my problems. I still love the stars. This place won’t ruin it for me.”

“Dain, what do you think?”

You’re not really asking him.

“It’s nice.” He responds. “I think they’re beautiful, too.”

You rarely talk about yourself he notices. You rarely think about yourself. About this sibling he doesn’t know. About their interests and likes.

“Do you like it?” He asks gentler than he intends.

“I do. But it hurts. Does that make sense, Dain?”

“It does.” He replies and he hopes that gives you some ounce of peace.

You smile a little. He wishes it could last.

You’re someplace far away. He looks down at you and making a move for the first time he offers you his hand.

You take it and fall asleep against his shoulder.

He clings to your warmth and holds you closely thinking little of it.

When he wakes up you’re already gone.

You revert back to your normal and neither of you bring it up. But even if it’s left unspoken.

It’s already been said.

-

In Sumeru while exploring the wilderness you’ve sunken to your knees. The sight of something has caught your attention.

It's rare to see you stray from your goal.

You gaze down at the white flowers for a few seconds. Most often your eyes dance around but you keep walking forward. It's very rare that something strikes you enough to linger on. To hold still for just a moment in time.

It's rare that you let anything hold you back. Each nation. You grow a little faster. A little more distant. A little ahead.

You glance up at him wordlessly as you go to kneel to clutch the flower between your palms, it's rare that you do things just like this. Ask him to speak up on the matter and info-dump so you can understand the world better. It's the little conversation you both have.

“Dain, what is this?”

"It's a flower native to Kharenri'ah." His heart winces a little at the word. It appears that the wound has not mended itself. It won't ever. He's made peace with that. He merely wonders when he'll learn to live with that truth. "It's called the Intreyvat. It has 2-weeks before it wilts. It's aligned with elemental energy as for why it glows. Elemental Energy isn't edible nor does it taste very good for those who've tried it. So please do not eat it."

You don't respond. So he continues with other facts assuming you're not satisfied. "It's called the wanderer's flower for it's properties which--"

"I'm not going to eat it, idiot. I'm not insane to eat flowers. You're my emergency food rations." Contradiction. He thinks that cannibalism is more insane than eating flora. But, he chocks it up to either sarcasm or a testament to your oddities. It's likely the former. Your face warmed up. Embarrassed that he’d even imply it. Melanin rushing straight to your face to the tips of your ears. you whisper, hushed, as you cradle the flower delicately in your hands. Like it can hear your argument. It can't. It’s not alive in that sense. a fact he would point out. But he knows it’s not the time for that. He opts for silence as he usually does. "They just grew these back home. My actual home. Before it got destroyed."

You have a deep longing in your eyes. All-consuming devotion. "Some things remain constant through different worlds. There's likely another you somewhere on one of the many worlds that exist."

"I saw these with my sibling when I first arrived at Teyvat. The flower were the first thing we saw. A field of them." you churn out. your grip on the flower grows tighter. it's petals crush beneath your fingers at how tight you hold it. you don't seem to notice. " All things meet similar fates. So, of course these flowers were meant to fade away in this world too."

"It’s okay. These aren’t actually my homeland’s flowers. It’s not mine.” You laugh as you let go of the flower. leaving the crushed white petals lay dirtily discarded on the floor. "It was never mine. But the sight of it regardless bought me joy."

It's left in the dirt. You stand on wobbly knees. He thinks to mention it but you have enough to worry about already.

Dainsleif knows it’s better not to linger as well. So he chases after you. At some point it changed from him walking meaninglessly.

He drifts after your footsteps. Behind you.

-

You’re always changing. Slowly, bit by bit, the person he met so long ago becomes a stranger distant in his mind. The current you is just as much of a puzzle.

Time is passing. He doesn’t keep track of how many days that have gone by. Some days blur.

When you’re at Fontaine you finally let yourself break.

It would explain why you finally go mad. The process of traveling place to place without ever stopping.

It must have been draining.

His hand curls around your face as you lay at your camp. You’re both doing an odd-job for money to travel so often from place to place.

You’ve both finished killing another hilichurl camp which stood in the way. Wiping the splattered blood from your cheek. Too little distance but you don’t seem to mind how close he is. “Is it yours or theirs?”

You don’t answer. Which does nothing to ease his worries. He goes to wipe the rest of the blood to see if you have any injuries. This isn’t like either of you. To dote on another like this. These moments are sparse few and far between in your own words until you’re at a certain breaking point — nothing more than travel companions until you need someone to catch you before you fall. That’s why you called for him.

Because you were alone. Because he was alone.

It’s transactional.

It should be, anyway. You tremble and bite your lip hard enough that it bleeds. What you have feels heavier than that.

“I don’t want to ever kill another hilichurl again.”

Ah.

“We’ll never have to kill another one again.” He tries to soothe you. “We can stop taking requests like this.”

It must be bad. You’re holding still. Barely reacting to the feather-light touch. He squeezes your face.

You react at that. Your eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He lets go once he sees that’s enough to rouse you out of your own head.

“We should take a break.” He finally says. “We haven’t had one in awhile-“

“I don’t want to stop.” You reply back. “It gets worse when we stop.”

You‘ve been tired for a long time.

Wiping the rest of the blood on his cape. He doesn’t struggle. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely indifferent to the process. But he never struggles against you. So he doesn’t even budge. He just looks at you with that prey animal stare reserved for only you. “Ah.”

“My cape.” He holds the tassel and flops it around. As subdued and subpar as it is. “Isn’t a napkin.”

“We’re both dirty, now.” That brings an odd joy he’ll have to worry about later because those words are not happy. They’re sad. You should both be clean. But, there’s a certain joy to sharing your lows. You ramble as you use it to wipe your tears away as well. “Now we both need showers and…”

“…”

“Dain.” You ask quietly. “Why do you stay with me?”

Oh.

You’re not yourself. You’ll regret this conversation and feel nothing but regret about it later. He comforts you now and answers regardless because he would regret leaving you unanswered now even more.

“I care about you even if it doesn’t seem that way at times.”

You stare at him like his words are hard to believe. Your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Is it so hard to believe he cares after you’ve spent so long together? He can see the thoughts racing behind your eyes. But, what you settle on is— “You’re so stupid.”

You don’t seem entirely unhappy with his answer despite the words that you say considering you’re laughing. It’s an oddly sad laugh. A laugh which threatens on a sob.

He tries to ignore the pink color that rises to his cheeks.

“So stupid.” You cry a little harder and hug him. He caresses you and lets you cry into his chest.

He knows you wish someone else could hold you.

It isn’t the same nor will it ever live up to the real thing. But you always pretend.

-

You both never kill a Hilichurl again.

He does his best to avoid them on the roads. Whenever you see one a deep sadness falls over you. So he does his best to stifle that grief and ease that burden by avoiding every chance he has.

You haven’t asked as much questions lately since arriving at Natlan. You’ve quit speaking entirely at some points in time. Some days he wonders if you’ve forgotten to speak at all.

The light behind your eyes is a distant memory.

“Dain?”

“Why do you travel at all?”

He stares at you through a mouthful of mushroom-chicken skewers that he’s cooked. They’re burnt. He’s not very good of a cook.

You’ve never asked before. You’ve asked all sorts of questions. But never that.

“It was sort of implied at the fountain that you didn’t know… I remembered and got curious… so I asked.l

“Did you figure it out, Dain?”

…

Maybe he did.

He thinks about keeping it to himself. Holding on to that answer just this once. You’ve done the same to him.

But maybe it’s something worth saying.

No, maybe it’s something…

He just wants to admit. To say out loud. Just once.

Even though he knows you know.

“I want to see your journey to its end.”

You instantaneously groan like he’s said something embarrassing.

“I’d thought you’d answer that.” You pout with crossed arms. “When did you grow so obsessed with me?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t know why or how. He doesn’t know if he should.

“You should live for yourself.” Hypocrite. “Beyond Khaenri'ah and beyond me.”

Dainsleif sighs and…

He continues letting his judgement not get the better of him.

“I really like you.”

Time stops.

He’s a little surprised the words actually came out of his mouth. But they did.

He can’t take it back now that it’s been said. That’s how it works.

“Huh?”

He could pretend that his words had a different meaning. He could create some lie. And you would just eat it up.

But he chooses not to. Why is that?

“I like you. That’s why I wish to see it through with you. I wish to see you happy. Typically. You wish to be with the people you like happy.” He repeats. Louder. So you can’t misinterpret it or pretend you’ve heard him wrong, He chews on the mushroom skewer. Feeling his face heat up. Some days. He wished his mask covered the entirety of his face. It feels like he’s gone as crimson as the moon.

He feigns how okay he is with these words leaving his mouth. Pretends like he isn’t pouring a deep part of himself out to you. “Don’t mind where. I just wish to be by your side.”

“You’ve been my reason for awhile now.“

And he continues. A little too much. He realizes. He stops and looks at you to use as measure for how much he’s talked.

Quite a lot. You stare at him in abject horror.

“I— don’t repeat it!” You yell and look around like somebody can hear you both. There’s nobody for miles. In the end. It’s always you both alone. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You asked.” Dainsleif points out and bites down on the shame. “I answered.”

“..-!?”

“It wouldn’t work.” You stumble. “You and me—“

“It doesn’t have to be as lovers. My… current goal… the… reason I’m traveling with you… what I want most is just… to see you be okay.“

“Your terminology was confusing! It’s not my fault—“

“But if you want to entertain the idea… of… us being partners and such. I wouldn’t mind traveling with you. To see other worlds. If you could bring me.” He can’t bear to look at you. “Though, I have a task as a Borough Keeper… I…”

“You wish for me to live for myself. Is that not proof I am? Willing to find a reason to live past that role?”

“T-Travel with me…” the room grows hotter. “Wait, that’s not the point!”

“It still doesn’t work!” You yelp. “Just…”

“…”

“Maybe at the end of the road when I reunite with my...” You mumble. “I… no…”

“No… I don’t think… you… we should.”

…

“We shouldn’t.”

You don’t explain why.

Dainsleif flushes… and looks away. Understanding. He tries to be understanding.

Even if he’s not very good at it. Understanding other people. He tries to emphasize and nods his head.

“I understand… I told you. I just… wish for your happiness.”

“You shouldn’t.“

…

And you don’t elaborate. You never really do.

He doesn’t understand how bad it gets until it’s too late.

-

Because you were right.

Thinking about it now, it was an omen, a warning more than anything. You likely should have thrown him loose a long time ago.

Did you not think about that? Or was it now when everything’s finally proved that this was where your path must lead? Were you hoping that there was another option?

Was this your last choice?

Well, it’s already history. You must have known that. That’s why you were so insistent on it. To limit the heart-ache. The tragedy. If you held on even tighter. Then the pain of separation would hurt even more.

You should have never offered your hand to him at all then. But it was this journey it was knowing which made you into this, wasn’t it?

He was there to witness your unraveling. And he didn’t do a thing to stop it. He allowed it.

The sword has pierced through his stomach and severed through. He’ll survive. That’s what he was cursed to do. To eternally live and grieve until there was nothing left to lose. You know that. You aren’t actually trying to kill him. You’re sparing him and leaving him to live with this loss. And that’s even more painful.

There’s no light in your eyes. You’ve chosen the road ahead. It’s a road you cannot travel back from. You will destroy everything. And you will repeat the endless cycle of bloodshed. And then you will most likely die against the weight of the heavenly principles.

This is the second time his reason for living was entirely stolen. How fun. How grand. How sick. But he should have known, too. Even if you’re immortal as well—

The things he loved were bound to get torn from him. His life will forever be a game of give and take.

“There’s nothing else.” You glance out into the darkness. “For me to see. I’ve seen it all. And it’s driven me mad.”

“I understand now. You don’t have to follow me anymore. You’ve done your job of seeing me through to the end. And I thank you for that. You’ve been a good guide. I’ve cherished this time together.”

Like this isn’t it. As if you aren’t severing your paths entirely. You dig the sword deeply into his stomach like you’re cutting whatever has connected you both all this time to each other.

But it did matter. Everything mattered. It mattered so much to the point where you’ve come down to this. He holds the sword and tries to push it out.

You’ve detached. When was it when you pulled yourself away from him entirely? He never noticed the gap between you had grown as deep as the abyss.

“Dain.”

“You’re not joining me are you?”

“I’m not.” He responds from the floor. He chokes on his own blood. It isn’t the first. Nor will it be the last time. He can see his future from here. Because life refuses to let him live languid life. He could never agree with the tragedy you intend to cause. The world you wish to ruin— still belongs to him. “You’re right. I can’t agree. I could never agree.”

And more than that, you’re likening yourself to a monster. This path. Paved in blood. If you walk it you will be no better than them. You’re making a mistake. You’re so much more than this. And he knows. Because he was there for you for so long.

“If this is the path you plan to take. I will oppose for eternity.” He spits.

For some reason that gets you to share with him a rare smile.

The way you smile at him then still haunts his dreams.

“I knew you could do it.”

It is your hands which he trusted so which push him and led to his fall. The hands which he had done his best to have lovingly hold. It is his first betrayal.

And yet he still tries to have faith.

Your paths diverge…

But regardless of that.

You’re not out of reach.

He can still save you he thinks with grasping hands.

Is this how you’ve felt all this time? With a flickering inch of hope? Given so little yet still believing in that faint chance of reunion?

He’ll force your paths back together himself.

-

Mondstadt.

He’s begun to try to count the time.

He just measures it against the day which took everything.

500 years.

He's come here before. The bar called Dawn Winery’s-- it's peaceful in comparison to the other worlds. Though so dreadfully close to Celestia. You’re close. He knows you are. Thus why he’s here to begin with.

The bartender has changed again since he was last here. He’s witnessed many faces since that time so long ago. He almost got mistaken. It seems it’s the previous incarnation’s son? He wears his father's skin, has his bright crimson hair, the only thing lacking is the life in his eyes. He must not be have taken the loss well.

Dainsleif's taste buds have faded with time. But the wine goes down as easily as he remembers. He relies on his sight to enjoy it. It’s changed over the years. The bottle itself. The liquid’s color isn’t as he remembers and it never is the same—

Footsteps.

A familiar voice.

He can feel time pause.

“Hi… I’m an adventurer from the adventure’s guild!”

He doesn’t respond.

The voice is insistent despite him clearly ignoring them.

“How do you do… I’m an honorary member of the Knights of Favonius!”

If he turns around, if he wants so deeply, then it feels as if it’ll be even farther. If the very act of wanting will make it so Celestia tears it away from him.

But the voice continues. A different one. There’s another. There’s two?

“Wow… he has no intention of paying us any mind.”

“So… uh… I’m a traveler.”

Two people, one pair of footsteps. This isn’t an ordinary person.

…

Dainsleif doesn’t look back but he repeats a question. A question from a long time ago.

“A traveler you say. Why do you travel?”

He can feel the awkward smile tugging on the other party’s lips. There’s a light. Unending. Unendurable.

“Well… looking for my lost relative… could it be possible that you’ve seen them?”

[fictional-mind21]

🎶ALL MY LOVE🎶

Characters: Reader, Bucky, Dot (Bucky's girlfriend)

Synopsis: No matter the circumstances, you and Bucky Barnes would always be linked

Warnings: Small mentions of alcohol, pining for someone else while in a relationship and I guess [???] miscommunication [????]

Word Count: Too lazy to check

a/n: I feel like this is sort of messy writing structure but 🤷‍♀️ (I couldn't get this song out of my head and then this popped out)

+ This is the first I've posted in A WHILE, if you missed me, MY BAD 😳

‼️‼️Before you start reading this know that:

Italics = song lyrics (if they have parentheses around them that means they're being said by one of the characters)

Blue = Bucky's POV and thoughts

Regular white is Reader's POV and thoughts‼️‼️

It's been 61 days, more precisely 2 months since you and Bucky last spoke. Dot, his girlfriend, had given him an ultimatum.

Your friendship or their relationship.

After a restless night's of sleep he'd gone over to your house to break the news to you.

You told him you understood that she felt threatened by your close relationship and it was best to cut ties so he could pursue his happiness.

There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

You were his happiness

He was your best friend after all and what kind of best friend would you be if you stood in the way of his happiness?

You were his happiness

He was also the guy who gave you your first kiss due to silly little middle schooler games.

Well, I leaned in for a kiss thirty feet from where your parents slept

And I look so confident, babe, I swear, I was scared to death

I smiled stupid the whole way home

The guy who you'd fallen in love with BUT who'd found love elsewhere, so of course you were letting him go.

Now you were at Tony's annual New Years party watching him from across the room being all lovey-dovey with Dot and feeling like you were at the top of Mount Everest.

Cold and lacking oxygen.

It was wrong.

Here he was rubbing noses with Dot when the past 2 months had been an emotional agony for him, a hole in chest where you used to be.

2 whole months of not being able to get you out of his head.

As soon as he stepped out of your apartment that night, he felt wrong. He wished you'd have told him to stay. Filled his head with delusion and told him to choose you because you couldn't live without him.

Even if it wasn't wrong, it was too late. He'd made his choice and you'd obviously never choose him as anything more than a friend. He was crazy to think about such things.

You burrowed in under my skin, what I'd give to have you out for me

How could he have been so stupid? How had he not realized his feelings for you before? He had to get you out of his head before he messed up what he had with Dot. He'd be dammed if he messed up the relationship that sacrificed his and yours.

He'd been so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Dot calling him.

"Babe I'm gonna head to the bathroom, you gonna be ok?"

"Yeah"

As she walked away, he walked across the room towards the bar. Less for the drinks more so to stretch him legs and get a breath of fresh air. He took a seat nearest to the balcony and one look across the bar had him realizing THIS WAS A BAD IDEA.

He hadn't realized you'd come to the party.

There you were talking to a group of people smiling and laughing, like nothing was wrong in the world. Yet here he was yearning to be in your presence.

As the group walks away he has to force himself to look away or you'll feel him staring.

As the group you were talking to walks away you look back to where Bucky was with Dot only to see it empty.

As you question if they left already you sense something familiar. A feeling of warmth, one which you're first instinct is to blame on the alcohol, but the drink in front of you has been sitting untouched for so long that all the ice has melted and the drink has gone warm.

As you look to your left you find the culprit and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

It's Bucky. He's only a few feet away but it's the most bittersweet distance you've ever been from someone. You thought seeing him across the room was hard but here you are and the need to be near him has NEVER been stronger. Or at least that's what you think until he makes eye contact with you and your heart stops.

You got all my love while I'm still out here

His heart stops and he almost drops the drink he's been swirling around to distract himself from looking at you.

Because you're looking at him and he's looking back at you, mesmerized. His breathing becomes shaky as flashbacks of you and him flood his mind. Soon he sees you walking towards him.

As you're walking towards him you see his breathing start to slow down, and maybe that should be sign a sign to stop what you're doing and walk away but you don't.

"Buck, you ok?"

"Yeah you know me d-oll, hate these parties, just got a little overwhelmed but I'm good now"

Was he though? Because although his shaky breathing subsided he still felt like he could go into cardiac arrest at any moment.

Write me a list of how it is, of how it was, of how it has to be

"So how have things been?"

"Well, doll , now that you mention it things have been good"

"That's good"

Now I know your name, but not who you are

"What about you, anything new and exciting?"

I wanna hear all of it no matter how insignificant you think it is

"Well actually ..........

As he listens to you he can't help but think "God I've missed the sound of your voice". Suddenly he feels a smile on his lips, one that was always only meant for you.

When you realize he's smiling you ask him "what's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing"

"I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm sorry" you say letting out a nervous laugh

"Don't apologize, I don't mind." I could listen to you talk all day

As time goes on you guys start talking which turns into laughing, a laugh he missed and had trouble forgetting the sound of, a laugh only he could pull out of you.

Suddenly, and what feels like too soon, Dot appears and she looks upset.

"Seriously Bucky? There was a super long line and I've been looking for you everywhere"

"I've been here the whole time Dot"

"With her?"

"She's got a name Dot"

"Bucky you promised, you know how I feel about this" Despite the previous semi rude comment she made, you can hear the hurt in her voice which adds to the guilt creeping up on you. You were not about to let Bucky's happiness turn into something tragic all because you couldn't walk away.

"Hey, Dorothea?"

She looks at you

"Listen, I'm really sorry, this was all my fault. I was the one who-"

"It wasn't her fault, she saw me get a little overwhelmed with the crowd and came over to help and then we got to talking. I'm sorry, Dot I didn't mean to dismiss your feelings"

"We should go, Buck"

All it takes is one certain word out of her mouth to make your whole evening crumble. A word that makes you face the fact that the guy standing in front of you will never be yours, at least not in the way you want him to be.

BUCK.

GOD THIS WAS A BAD IDEA. What were you thinking coming to this party?!!

"No need, I was already on my way out. Don't lie. Don't leave please, I need you Hope you guys have a wonderful time and take care"

If you need me, dear I'm the same as I was

[marchtooctober]

It's been some time since i posted something 😅

My contribution for prompt "Desperate"

@dailytwiyorprompts

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

“Yor.”

“Yesh?”

“Your scarf. It's falling off.”

“Oh… Shorry.”

It was one of those dinner nights of Loid and Yor, a regular practice that is part of their cover as Mr. and Mrs. Forger. Loid managed to pull off the date smoothly at the cost of another intoxicated Yor. At this point, he's now surprisingly used to it after so many times.

But maybe, this is the last.

“Thish too hard.” With struggling effort, Yor tried to fix her scarf.

“Let me.”

“N-No it'sh alright…” She mumbled.

Loid grabbed the scarf and wrapped it around Yor. As he adjusted the cloth, he felt Yor's warm breath on his hands. The sensation made Loid feel fuzzy inside, as if the warmth has spread all throughout his body. Then he quickly pulled back his hands, quite abashed.

“Thank you.” Said Yor and turned away.

She walked a few steps ahead while tapping her cheeks.

Loid wondered if he made a mistake. He didn't want Yor to be wary of him. But he couldn't help himself.

“L-Let ush cake some for Franky and Anya.”

Despite the messed up sentence, Loid understood.

“I don't think we can buy cake at this time. It's already late. I'll just bake one tomorrow if that's alright with you.” He replied.

“M'kay.” Said Yor and continued walking.

It's deep in the night and only a few people are still out, just like them.

The cobblestone pavement carpeted with dry foliage, the leafless trees line up the path. Howling of chilly wind signifies the near ending of fall. And it won't be long before winter comes, and a lonely one at that.

No matter how much he yearns for an ordinary life, Loid will never attain it. The so-called “home” where he wants to be, is a place very far from his reach.

“Loi? Where are you? Loi!”

Yor's voice took him out of his grim reverie. He rushed to her.

“I’m here. Hold on to my arm and walk carefully.”

Loid held out his arm but Yor declined.

“I’m fine. I jush thought you gone shomwere.”

Hearing those words, Loid swallowed hard.

“You don’t have to worry. I… I’m here. I’m not going anywhere..” Replied Loid and smiled bitterly.

They continued, Yor still walking ahead. Loid stared at her back and felt the unfamiliar sting of guilt. And where did it come from? Guilt out of saying those words? Handful of words added to the pile of lies. But it was necessary, lying for his mission. Yet, he couldn't shake the heaviness of guilt.

There shouldn't be any emotional hindrance. He knows it well. But for a second, he was possessed with selfishness and tried to reach out his trembling hand. Loid simply wanted to hold Yor’s hand.

Suddenly, he quickly remembered that he had no right to do such a thing.

Who he is right now is nothing but a disposable mask. Loid Forger is just one among the many passing shadows of Twilight.

Pain is welling up in his chest. Twilight realized his fault. The suppression of feelings that he didn't want to face.

Is this love after all?

What he knows about romance is mostly from theory but never experienced the real thing. It’s unfitting to someone like him. Feelings and sentiments were never beneficial to him.

Drawn to the flame he can't touch. As a last resort, he called out to Yor.

“Yor.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we take our time walking?”

“Why?”

“B-Because…”

“Okay, Loi… If you want sho. Let'sh walk sowlowly.”

Yor beamed a smile and turned away. Loid was thankful that he was walking behind. He didn't want Yor to see the few tears that escaped his eyes.

This little distance between them is the only thing that keeps Loid from losing his sanity. He knows that even this moment will fade as a memory once everything is over. And he will be left with nothing but a blank canvas for him to paint another fakery.

That's all there is to it.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

[bianotbia]

— 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 [𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧]

˗ˏˋ between heartbreak and fading memories ˎˊ˗

⤷ a/n : a little something I sent to a writing magazine but that wasn't accepted :') but I though it was too good just to be forgotten so I changed a few things and now it's basically a breakup letter to Hyunjin idk so cry with me <3

⤷ contains : ex!hyunjin x reader, could be more angsty [wc: 0.5k]

now playing : miss you by hyunjin

My dear fading hapiness,

Every day I blame myself for never being able to fully express my feelings for you when we still saw each other every day. After so much time, I accepted that speech was not one of my talents and that writing has always come easier to me, perhaps because this way I can be further away from the laughter and whispers of the wind when I tell it how I feel about you. I know that these words are not even half of everything that has gone through my head since the day I met you, but I do hope you believe me when I say that being with you was like a fever dream on a hot summer night. Feeling my body wander between the veils of reality and fantasy while I fought my mind to stay sane. But why stay sane when everything you make me feel is beyond rationality? Why try to argue with the universe when I would do anything to have you by my side, even if it killed me inside? It would never kill me. I had been in this limbo for a long time. Perhaps it was you who saved me, with your eyes that always found mine and your soul that also yearned to be found. I must admit that I have always felt a little envious of your artistic soul, for I believe that painting is a much more beautiful art than writing. Words on a piece of paper are nothing more than something that everyone already knows – letters that creat words, that create paragraphs, that create chapters and so on – but bringing to life a different painting for each emotion that is felt or each memory that is remembered is something so magical, so sensitive, so unattainable, just like you. I have always felt lonely in this life, like a ghost floating among the crowds, but even so you walked towards me and made me addicted to your gaze. Eyes that made me feel seen after living in the shadows for so long, like a forgotten toy that finally received the nostalgic love of its now grown child. A love that I wish I could keep just for myself forever, but that before I realize it slips through my fingers like the sand that sways in the whispers of the sea. I hope you find someone better to love, someone who isn't too broken inside so you don't hurt your hand when you try to reach their heart. It won't be hard, nor easy, after all the path to a soulmate is long and tiring. But I believe we'll meet again in the future and this will be nothing more than a memory that never existed, an echo of something that never happened, a love that never had the chance to be felt but that I will never stop feeling.

With love,

A memory I hope you'll forget someday.

— P.S.: I still wasn't able to forget you.

the images aren't mine! all rights reserved to © bianotbia 2024. please do not claim, translate, copy or modify any of my works as your own. reblogs are appreciated! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[box-of-roses]

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. Your eyes .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

♡ Synopsis: When you lock eyes with your soulmate the world appears in color; What happens when you lock eyes with Kuroo while at work.

♡ Characters: Kuroo, Y/N

♡ Possible Warnings: Mentions of food

♡ Words: 2K

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Series Masterlist

Fireflies. Lightning bugs. Whatever you want to call them, they still glow in response. As a child it’s all you looked forward to in the hot summer evenings. When the sun would go down enough to not leave beads of sweat cascading down your neck but still up enough that you could see the grass. You wished you could see the color they glowed but, not unlike most you had yet to find your soulmate.

Sometimes if distressed you more than others. You couldn’t have a favorite color when nothing had one. How could you live like this your whole life? Your parents would console you by describing the colors as best they could. The fireflies flashed a shade of yellow-green that looked like how the breeze in early spring smelled. The freshness of the morning dew still hanging off the grass and leaves. In fall when the leaves changed to reds, yellows, and oranges. They explained red felt like coming home after a long trip away, the warmth in your chest as you embraced the comfort of your bed. Yellow felt like finding a lighthouse, a warning not to come too close but delight at reaching land. The delight of finding something. Orange was like the flames that flickered through the crisp winter air. The brilliance that they were able to produce in the chilling air.

While the descriptions helped it still didn’t take away all of the sadness. It was unfair that some people could find their soulmates so easily. Why couldn’t you find yours as easily as others? What if they didn’t like you? Your parents settled that one by reminding you that soulmates were meant to be the other half of you. Not all romantic in nature, some had platonic relations with theirs. Either way it was someone who helped lift you up when you felt down. Your parents hated the phrase that soulmates completed you. A person does not complete you, only you have the power to do that. The second you give someone the power to take part of you away you already became less than you were before.

You also worried about meeting them and not knowing. You would often ask for the story of your parents meeting. They told it slightly differently depending on when you asked them. If they were together it would be “They didn’t like me at first but I charmed them.” And if you asked them separately the reading tone was gone. While neither claimed that it was love at first sight it was a like. An interest in the other person about why the universe had made the other for them. “Their eyes, they were so mesmerizing. I felt like I understood why the universe made me wait so long. I would not have appreciated the way their eyes danced upon the light in my teens. Heck even in my early twenties. But everything clicked when I heard them say my name.”

The stories made you hopeful but also lovesick. “Good things come to those who wait.” A repeated phrase especially when it came to soulmates. If it was so good, why make you wait? You would appreciate them. Your child brain didn’t understand why you didn’t have yours when you had already waited plenty long. In highschool you started to realize the kids who had met their soulmates young missed out. The yearning for someone to love. But that was only a starting realization as you still hoped you would run into them.

Currently your friend is trying to drag you to a volleyball game. How nice of our friends to try and take us to events we don’t want to go to. You’ll also understand the irony a bit later.

“Come on Y/N!” She pulled your arm in the direction that could be assumed to be the gym. You held firm though and literally dragged your heels.

“No. I’ve told you. I have no interest in going, I can’t tonight anyways.” You sighed and could feel the start of a headache.

“Why can’t you?”

“Class project. Remember? You have one too.” You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone. After a quick scan through your photos you found the one you wanted. A picture that had the details of the project.

“Oh come on. It says it’s not due for another two weeks.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Surely you can skip one night?”

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you and get some candy for you on the way to school.” She glared but agreed disheartened.

“Fine. But you have to go to one game. Please?”

“Maybe.” She took that as a yes. It would come back to bite you later. For now though she waved as she headed off towards the gym. You headed to your house. Head off in the clouds. You liked to stop and smell the flowers most days. The way people interacted with each other. How the mom greeted her child. The warmth that radiated from the hug. The closeness. The love. Most people went to all possible social gatherings to try and meet their soulmate but you didn’t like crowds. Let alone people pushing and yelling in your ear. Maybe one day you would cater to your friend’s whims. Today was not that day though.

You talked to your friend on your way home. Mostly because they were spamming you. You didn’t understand why they went to the game if she was just going to play on her phone the whole time. Finally though she confessed that she was hoping to find your soulmate. What a dream. To go to the same school as your soulmate. You thought you didn’t have that kind of luck though, let alone having a soulmate on a popular team? No you can scratch that. Not gonna happen.

When you finally arrived home you were exhausted but still had a project to do so you stayed up late to finish it. By the time you were done your neighbor arrived home. His room was across from yours and you would contact each other by the rudimentary cup phone system you made. Enjoying the anonymity you agreed not to give your names or show faces. You sat with your back to the window when you felt a tug on the string. You picked up the cup.

“Hey stranger.”

“Hey yourself. What are you doing up so late?”

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. “I was finishing a project.”

“The one you said wasn’t due for another like two weeks?” He laughed and that brought a smile to your face.

“Yeah, it means I can have time in class for myself.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do instead of your class work?”

“Probably read. I got a new book yesterday and I’m so excited to start it!” Excitement filled your voice and he could see your arms lift excitedly. The curtain blocked you from view but the light made a good enough shadow.

“Tell me about it?” He yawned but tried to hide it. It was his favorite part of the day. When he got to hear you ramble about the things you loved. It made him regret that stupid promise he made. Maybe if you just looked into his eyes you would see the world. One small peek and the two of you could be happy. Or you could be disappointed. He understood why you brought it up. Being friends was enough and the thoughts of soulmates just made everything so much more complicated.

“No, go to bed sleepyhead. I can hear you yawning. Both of us are tired.” He hummed and you smiled once again. Your dropping eyes made it difficult to pay attention to much.

“Fine, I don’t have anything afterschool so we’ll talk more tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodbye, stranger.”

“Goodbye stranger.”

The next day had been hectic to say the least. The closer you got to the end of the day though the better. You could feel a smile growing at being able to talk to him again. Your friend, ever helpful, decided to point this out. “What’s got you all smiley? Wait, don’t tell me…stranger boy?”

Your face heated up but nodded. “He’s not doing anything after school and neither am I. So, we’re gonna talk more today.”

“You guys literally talk everyday. What’s gonna happen when we graduate?”

“I’ll think about it when we get closer to graduation. For now let me have my moment of ignorant bliss.” You smiled shyly and moved your food around on the plate.

The bell went off again and you rushed to your next class. On the way you bumped into someone. You said a quick apology and started off again. The boy was taken aback by the quick interaction and watched as you walked off. He thought you were quite beautiful. He couldn’t dwell on that though, he also had a class to get to. After all, the faster the day goes by the closer he gets to talking with his stranger.

Finally, the time has arrived. You barely said hello to your parents as you rushed to your room. You closed the curtain and waited for the telltale tug at the rope. You hoped you hadn’t seemed too eager. Just as thoughts of doubt filled your head a string tugged them out.

“Hello, hello, stranger.”

“My, my, someone picked up quickly.” You rolled your eyes.

“Can I not be excited? You judging me over there stranger?” You heard him laugh. It was such a nice sound.

“I would never. How could you say such a thing.” He paused for a second. Thinking about something. “I’m graduating soon. And I’d rather not lose this friendship.” He stuttered a bit over the word friendship. I mean how would one define this relationship? You had been talking far too long to be actual strangers. However, neither of you knew what the other looked like. Let alone your names.

“We can exchange phone numbers. There, easy peasy.”

“Are you graduating soon?”

“Yeah, it’s funny we didn’t even know we were in the same year. For all we talk you would think it would come up at some point.”

“It is a little funny isn’t it?” This time you were laying down on your window seat. Cup lazily placed next to your ear.

“Anything interesting happen today, stranger?”

“Not really, it kind of went by in a blur. I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention.”

“Aww, was someone excited to talk to little old me?” Although you sounded confident, the goofy smile and hear of your face told a different story.

“Don’t act all high and mighty,” he coughed. “You picked up awful fast.”

“Mhm. And? What about it?”

“I thought I was the flirt in this relationship?”

“Alright, romance me then.”

“That’s not how this works. I’m not a song, you can’t just play me whenever you feel like.”

“Uh huh. I hear an awful lot of talk from someone too chicken to actually flirt with me.”

“I can flirt, I bet you can’t. This is projecting is what it is.” That made you sit up. Projecting? Nope, you’ve never heard such slander.

“You’re far too kind. I bet your face is as kind as your voice.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your voice makes me relax. Like after a long day there’s something to come back to. No matter how tired either one of us is, we still find comfort in each other. You’re my comfort.”

“I’m honored. For the record, you’re my comfort too.” A smile etched itself onto you face.

“You should be. That’s high praise coming from me. Oh my, I hadn’t even realized how late it was getting. Don’t you have stuff before school tomorrow?”

“Thank you so much for pointing that out. I’m sorry we had to cut it short.”

“Don’t worry about it, we stayed up way too late yesterday. Count it as makeup sleep from then.”

“Alright, goodnight stranger.”

“Goodnight stranger.”

I hope you guys enjoyed! I really enjoyed writing this! Feel free to check out my other works! My asks are open incase you want a specific scenario and character! If you want to be added to a tag list for any part of this series just let me know. Stay tuned for the next installments of the series!!!!!Love you guys!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated

Taglist: @lifesucksweswallow

Masterlist

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I can imagine Darling trying to initiate something sexual with Yves, but due to their inexperience, they fuck up and offend Yves. Yves would have that serious talk with Darling and they would be filled with so much guilt and embarrassment from the rejection and scolding. They apologize and vow that this will never happen again, and begin to over correct themselves, never having their hands make contact with Yves ever again. The only time the two would touch is if Yves is the one initiating it. Even then, Darling's hands are glued to their side, not wanting to make another mistake.

Do not make things sexual with Yves.

Yves knows you better than anyone. Even yourself. If he knows that you tend to beat yourself up repeatedly after being scolded, no matter how mild, he will take on a much more gentle approach.

Immediately after telling you off, receiving a satisfactory apology, and knowing that you're in a very vulnerable state, full of debilitating shame, Yves will soothe the pain by reverting back to being flirty and sensual in nature. Praising how you're such a sweet and good person for recognizing your transgressions and having a strong will to change for him. Intent is also very important, he will make sure you know he deeply appreciates that you find him extremely attractive, making lewd comments and/or touching him inappropriately is just not the way to express it.

He will take you in his arms, and let your hands touch him as long as it doesn't stray too near to his no-no territories. Yves wants you to know that he still yearns and craves for your skinship, he is not at all disgusted at you. He still wants you fully, just not in a way that degrades him.

The talk will be long. It will go to many different places relating to your views on sexuality, consent, and decorum. There will be guilt, there will be embarrassment, yes. But Yves is someone who likes to be clear, and direct and leaves no room for misunderstanding. He will firmly and lovingly lay out his expectations in the future, telling you what is okay and what is not for him. You are free to ask him any hypotheticals and he will answer it precisely without sparing any details.

You are free to tell Yves what you're expecting of him too even if he already knew what you thought of him. If you think that he led you on with his teasing, he will remind you that the nature of his flirting is nowhere as lewd, raunchy, or filthy as you thought it was. Looking back, it is true. It may be sensual, suggestive, exciting, and heart-fluttering, but it was never explicitly, horrendously sexual. What you said or tried to do completely came out of left field. Going through this route will leave you red-faced.

You will have to face some difficult emotions and heaps of awkwardness, you will cringe at yourself and at Yves. But, he will guide you through it all. He will teach you patiently how to navigate through your feelings and let go of any anger or hatred that you hold against yourself for doing something wrong. You will learn that there is nothing to be afraid of when having a conversation about heavy topics like these Most importantly, you will learn how to forgive yourself and move on.

You might think the 'magic' is gone after this chat. Perhaps you may think affection from you or he feels... icky and strange. But, it isn't. You would surprisingly enjoy it much more than before, now knowing what to do. It will be much more comfortable, knowing his boundaries and knowing yours.

Yves isn't cruel. He wouldn't let you marinade in your anguish for offending the man you care about, his goal wasn't to punish or hurt, it was to teach a lesson and rectify unacceptable behavior. He would only do so if you're hostile and defensive, refusing to accept what you did was depraved and blaming Yves for being too sensitive instead.

This lengthy, laborious conversation will occur regardless of your personality type. Because, while Yves may be the closest thing to a mind reader, you are not. But that is quite alright, he isn't afraid to feel, and he isn't afraid of awkwardness.

He loves you and only wishes to see you happy, thriving, and unburdened.

[likecanyoujustnot]

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 3: games

A/n: I wrote it pretty quickly. This is so much easier than the feysand one. Hm. Shouldn’t take me long to do the others

Part 2. Part 4

I was positively miserable. Another week had passed, making it 25 days she’d been gone for. I had never cared this much about time before now.

The court had noticed I wasn’t the same. Many rumours I’d been injured, or fallen ill. I supposed I was ill. Heartbreak or as close to it as I could get at the moment.

Never thought I’d feel something like this. Ever. Never thought I’d care so much about someone I’d yearn for their presence so much. To hear their voice, see their face and smile. Care so much that they could come so close to breaking my heart.

I’d come so close to just asking Taryn for help, but after all she’d done to Jude, I wasn’t inclined to speak to her.

But I knew who I would be.

“I know you’ve been seeing Jude.”

The roach looked up at me from where he sat looking at spy reports.

“What makes you say that?” The fact he didn’t deny it told me all I needed to know.

“You’re not the only one with sources.” It was a guess, but I knew him well enough to know he cared for Jude. He wasn’t likely to just ignore her.

“I am your sources.”

“That’s beside the point.” I sat at the small table across from him.

“Remind me again of the point since you already know I’ve seen her.”

Is she safe? Angry? Does she use her every breath to declare how much she hates me? I go for a less desperate question. “How is she?”

“She’s fine.” He went back to his report.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He sighed and set down the pen. “She’s mentioned you maybe twice.”

My stomach dropped. Maybe she didn’t even see me as important enough to return to. “Is she angry?”

“As angry as someone who’s been exiled by one they trusted can be.”

“So very angry?”

“Not quite. She seems to be more… distant. Cold. She’s been using her time as a mercenary for the folk living in her area, getting paid just enough to help her sister, killing and dealing with their issues.”

She was queen now. Anything I owned now belonged to the both of us. And vice versa. She now had access to the entire royal coffers, all the gold and valuables Mab and my father collected.

Now hers.

“That news disturbs you.” He was very observant, I’d give him that.

I didn’t answer him for a while. Keeping quiet in thought.

“Does she want to come back?”

“I’m not sure, she hasn’t mentioned it.” His gaze hardened. “Besides, you exiled her, said that if she came back she’d be killed. Jude is many things, foolish is not one of them, she wouldn’t come back to a death trap.”

He didn’t know about the loophole, so I couldn’t have him relay the message.

“I spoke to Vivienne once while she was out.”

Vivi and I had been friendly. Her closeness to Rhyia caused us to interact on occasion.

“What’d she say?”

“Not much, she’s distrustful of the fae. Said Jude barely spoke to her, that she was jittery, would spend a couple minutes every day just staring at space, playing with the ring on her finger.”

The wedding ring. The one I’d used my lessons of slight hand to take as she’d worn it. Given back to her as we exchanged vows. The far didn’t do wedding rings. But I’d thought Jude would appreciate it.

She’d probably told Vivi we were married. I doubt either would’ve told the roach.

My heart ached. I’d been an idiot. Marry her and exile her in the space of a couple hours. What could go wrong?

Clearly everything.

I put my head in my hands and rested my elbows on the table. “I just want her back.”

“Maybe you should tell her that.”

“I can’t.” My voice cracked.

“Well then, not much I can do I’m afraid.”

I looked up at the roach. “Can you tell her?”

“No.”

I glared at him. “I am your king-”

He stared back at me with just as much will. “Yes, but you are also my friend, Cardan. And I will not fix your mistakes for you. I will not be your go between in this weird relationship you two have going on. You want her back you tell her that, you fight for her back.”

“I’m not a fighter.” Balekin had felt the need to remind me of that every time I failed.

“Not all fighting is done with a sword.”

The roach stood up and left.

I grabbed a piece of blank paper from where he had been working and grabbed the quill.

The words came much easier to me today that they had the past times I’d tried writing to her.

Jude,

You are in no mood for games. Very well. I am in no mood for them either.

Let me write it outright. You are pardoned. I revoke your banishment. I rescind my words. Come home.

Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must.

Just come home.

Cardan

I stared at the words on the page. No room for misinterpretation. I told her she wouldn’t be killed, that she would be safe, that I wanted her to come home. To me.

I needed her to come home.

My wife,

My queen,

My Jude.

Tags:

@magicstrengthandcourage

[spacexseven]

ALSO since you are a lover of The Chuuya ill do some pathetic subordinate au chuuya stuff too! I'll try to make this one shorter since the dazai one is such a monster.

I think hed kinda do the opposite thing that dazai does- not that he doesnt kiss your ass a LITTLE, he’ll definitely send a bunch of gifts to your house and rush to complete some of your work for you and write you love poems (that he never sends, too embarrassed. probably for the best. his prose tends to go from Suprisingly Sweet to Incredibly Creepy really fast.), but unlike dazai hes pretty attached to his reputation and thus doesn't wanna burn it away by sobbing for you until you finally cave and come hold him, as much as he might like to. to keep up his street cred while still getting you to trust him, he'll have to be more subtle. (he's not subtle at all everyone knows)

I could see his MO being to just kinda. put himself in your space as much as possible. surely, if he just hangs around you and doesnt insult you or anything like that you'll eventually realize hes not that bad? he'll even come and help you with your work, see! nice guy, really! please forget all the shit he used to say to you and that time he choke slammed you into a wall he won't do it again!

he finds himself really wanting to be useful to you. he was a pretty shitty superior, he'll admit that, but there has to be a way to make it up to you! if there's something you want, he'll get it for you. a task that needs doing, he'll complete it. a nuisance that needs to be dealt with, hes your guy. very easy for him to go to the traditional Ill Kill For You yan route here, anyone whose bad to you will know his WRATH. abusive relative? not anymore! cheating ex? bye bye! some fuck harassing you? gone! anyone who hurts his angel has to die, hes put you through enough already as it is.

- 🩹

i love your wonderful brain my friend :>

cw: yandere themes, stalking, implied breaking in + murder

compared to dazai, chuuya's hit by guilt faster, and harder. it takes a great toll on him, but he abhors the idea of anyone knowing that he was feeling broken-hearted and remorseful over some lower-ranking member. so unlike dazai's public (and embarrassing) pleads for forgiveness and lovesickness, chuuya's far more...silent about it. sure, he makes sure you're receiving his gifts, lightens your workload, and watches out for you, even deciding to avenge you in many instances. he's aware of and has long accepted the fact that he will never be recognized for his efforts, never be thanked for his help and he definitely isn't going to win your favor with anything he does, but how can he leave you alone?

of course, everyone else knows. there's whispers amongst the members of black lizard that executive chuuya nakahara personally takes care of anyone who dares utter a single negative word about you, koyou has to deal with chuuya's numerous requests for advice, and even dazai knows that chuuya's become a lovesick little puppy (naturally, he fails to notice the irony).

it's a regular sight now, to see chuuya bent over and scribbling on a piece of paper, before groaning and ripping it to shreds. anyone who manages to put together the strips is able to see what looks to be multiple lines of poetry, quite eloquently written if not for the extreme emotions being expressed in them.

while he avoids meeting with you directly, chuuya can't help but linger. he waits around the corner from your home, hoping to catch a glimpse of you walking by. he stands by the pavement outside the bar you frequent, cigarette in hand, figuring out a way to bump into you and make it look accidental, hopes you'll stop if only to stare for a moment. at least he's not all in your face and annoying you to no end like someone is, and that should score him a few points, right?

and yes, he yearns to be of some use for you, wants to help you in any way possible so that you don't see him as a nuisance and throw him aside forever. and if helping you meant staying behind you and cleaning up, if helping meant exacting revenge in your name, or even if it meant staying out of your way, he'll do it without complaint.

[seeminglydark]

Hey um, so this is actually my first time typing anything on tumblr, partially because I only got it a couple months ago (something something healing my inner child because I only managed to secretly log into Webtoons during my younger years) and I am also a chronic lurker. Alas, it is the night hours and this, combined with listening to the first episode of Mil-Liminal has moved me to emerge, if only for a moment.

Sorry, this is strange. I am typing to someone I do not know who has written so much that is so close to my heart. Something about the first episode just really hit. Maybe it’s cause of how I can relate. Maybe it’s cause listening to it felt a little too real as if maybe you or someone you knew could relate. The thought makes me really sad but also less alone. Is that messed up?

Regardless, thank you so much for everything you make. Every success you have makes me really happy, and seeing you expand over the years to now being able to hear “Caro’s” voice after imagining it for so long- just awesome. Now if I may impose my nagging that I give to my friends upon you, please take care of yourself, make space and recognize the inherent worth you have, know that rest is necessary and you do not need to earn it, and thank you for everything you have done for the community and for all the dark times of my life you have lighted.

Hey, Hi. Even as a person who literally writes for a living, I'm always at a loss for words. Thank you. Thank you for summoning courage and coming out of the shadows for a second to send me this message. I want you to know it moved me to tears (don't worry, crying's healthy.) It's not messed up to feel less alone by listening to my stories, because you're right. Almost everything I write, I have experienced in some kinda way. That includes breaking free from control, running away, and living in my car and suddenly not knowing who the hell I even was (not from my parents though, as in Caro's case.) My writing is and has always been a way to process and express my own grief, healing, yearning, and wishing, identity, and sexuality. The fact that it can hit other people who might be going through or went through similar things actually makes it even more worth while to me. And you don't need to be sad for the things I've gone through, because it brought me here. Almost middle-aged, the bad times feel like an old nightmare I can barely remember, Breathing, Heart beating, ALIVE and with stories to tell, and if I'm lucky, some hope to share. Cuz there is hope, and don't you forget that.

Thank you again, from the very bottom of my heart. This whole message is really so special to me in the deepest most profound way possible. I want to reply to the last paragraph with something great to say, you know what I mean? Words are hard though. So instead I'll thank you again, and I'll ask that you have that same grace for yourself too, and leave you with a little drawing of a kid figuring out their life, even though they feel really lost right now, the wonderful thing about Caro's story is that we already know it's going to be ok one day. -RJ