#sometimes the forces of the universe are in my favor

[cto10121]

How Romance in Fiction Works

For this Valentine’s Day I dedicate this to all the “Romeo and Juliet/Twilight/[insert X] isn’t a romance!!1!1” clownery out there, because now I have to contend with the depressing fact that people—and not just illiterate randos, actual bookish people perhaps too used to the Hero’s Journey template—have no clue what romance in fiction (as the main plot) works. And no, it has nothing to do with ~fantasy or ~wish fulfillment or ~everyone is nice and in love and nobody’s mean or cheats ever!!!1!1 It has to do with the goals of a romance. I’ll be focusing largely on literature, but technically this can also apply to TV, movies, and other dramatic mediums.

(Disclaimer: I will not be talking about romance as a genre, either the knight/damsel tradition or the HEA conventions of modern American romance fiction. The former has nothing to do with romantic love, and the latter has nothing to do with the art of fiction, but what sells, so don’t @me. It should also go without saying that I won’t be talking about romance as a subplot to the main plot. You lot already know too much about that already.)

Romance IRL vs. Fiction

So romance in real life can be literally anything and occur anywhere and at any time. No duh. That is true for *waves hand vaguely* everything in reality. Fiction, however, is a different story. It must, in short, make sense. There is plot, character, tone, as well as your literary techniques and devices. Otherwise the romance will not work or be implausible. So far, the same as most any other fiction.

Where romance differs from most fiction, however, lies in its purpose. I like it to call it The Romance Novel Paradox. To whit: Romance in fiction functions on the premise that the couple cannot be together because of X reasons. As soon as the couple resolve all of their issues and be together fully, that’s when the romantic story is over.

Thus, the task of the romance writer is to prevent the couple from getting together before the point where they absolutely need to be. So in a way, writing a romance…is fundamentally writing an anti-romance.

Sounds crazy and weird and hard? It is. That’s exactly why writing romance is so hard in the first place. You have to juggle these two separate and opposite tensions tugging and tearing at the work. You literally have to do two things at the same time, along with all the other things required of writing a romance.

The Goals

So with all this in mind, the goals of a romance is as follows:

That the couple meet and fall in love

That the couple enjoy and even consummate their love

That the couple overcome any obstacles that threaten their relationship

That the couple be successful in being true to their love and the first 3 goals.

The Plot(s)

Romances actually have two kinds of plot. I’ll just call them the Courtship Plot and the Love Story Plot respectfully.

The Courtship Plot

The Courtship Plot essentially deals with the inner conflicts/obstacles that prevent the couple from being in love or falling for each other. This could be as short as a scene or two or as long as a whole book/movie/TV show, depending on the medium and intentions.

Beginning/Set Up: Establishes both the world, its stakes, and/or the romantic couple. Oftentimes, though, a romance does start with a different character(s) entirely who talk about the couple before they appear.

Inciting Incident: This is when the couple first meet. Their first reactions could range anywhere from love at first sight (instalove) to absolute abhorrence (Rivals/Enemies to Lovers). For Friends to Lovers, this is the point where the two characters begin to view each other in a romantic light or as a potential romantic partner.

Courtship/Investigation: Even if the couple is instantly attracted to each other, they must first get an understanding of each other’s intentions, the depth of love/attraction, personality, etc. This time also includes Proofs of Love, in which the lovers each provide proof of their love for each other through words, acts of service, etc.

Internal Conflicts/Obstacles: These relate to the couple’s inner conflicts/hangups that prevent them from entering a relationship and what they must do to overcome those. This is traditionally known as The Barrier. In this type of plot they will mostly be internal, but there can be some external obstacles as well.

Separation of the Lovers: Most often because of misunderstandings/internal hangups, but it can also be because of actual external shit beyond their control.

Resolution: These inner conflicts are resolved and the couple can get together properly. Traditionally this is shown through marriage (Cheers, bells, and Hymen the God of Marriage arrives to officiate your wedding. Congrats!). Or simply living together/dating.

This is more or less the plot of a romantic comedy, but this can be the plot of romantic drama as well, especially if those internal conflicts are truly heavy and significant. There may also be some external conflict happening, but it’s usually not as significant as the internal ones.

The Love Story Plot

The Love Story Plot is concerned with the love relationship of a couple as well. However, it is less focused on the courtship side (i.e. the couple falling in love with each other) and more on the external conflicts/obstacles that threaten their love. To whit:

Courtship (Abridged): Some Love Plots may include this, but it is not strictly necessary. If they do, it’s mostly in abridged form, quick montage, small flashback, or simply just as Proofs of Love.

Couple Is In Love (Status Quo): Most Love Plots begin with the lovers already together and in love. In some occasions, they are even married.

External Conflicts/Obstacles: Everything and anything that prevents the lovers from getting together or keeps them apart (The Barrier). Family doesn’t approve, society doesn’t approve, natural events occur, personal enemies, other love interests, etc. Sometimes the couple has internal conflicts going on as well that tie into the external conflicts.

Separation of the Lovers: Almost always temporarily and literally, due to above External Conflicts and, on occasion, Internal Conflicts. Very rarely metaphorically.

The Lovers Reunite: Almost always, although some media may skip this part.

Couple Triumphs (Or Not): The couple succeeds in vanquishing all obstacles and they come out stronger than ever, yay! Or they don’t and they die and/or their love dies, oh no! Yes, the latter is definitely an option and actually not an uncommon one with these plots.

The Love Story Plot does have its downside in that it can be harder for the audience to care very much for the couple if they haven’t spent at least some time getting to know them and their love. However, it is preferred traditionally, if just because of the dramatic and much-clearer stakes involved. The lovers’ characters are also revealed/developed through adversity, which is always a plus.

So all romances are effectively love stories. However, not all love stories are romances. Most romances tend to have both, mostly in one or two books. In Epic Romance this is stretched to three or four at the most. Beyond four the book/TV show/thing turns from a romance into a full-blown soap opera (coughOutlandercough).

So here are a few examples of romances often classified as such and why they count as romances. I’ll start with two works people most insist are not romances: Romeo and Juliet and Twilight.

Example 1: Romeo and Juliet

Though tons of Internet clowns insist to this day that Romeo and Juliet is not a romance and is a comedy/satire/what have you, it skews closely to the Romance plot as outlined.

The Courtship Plot:

Two families in a patriarchal, violent, and conservative society hate each other. (Beginning/Set Up). Romeo and Juliet are their two heirs, each with their own problems re: their place in this society (Beginning/Set Up). They meet at a ball and fall in love (Inciting Incident). But of course they are heirs of two feuding families (The Barrier/Obstacle 1). However, Juliet is worried that Romeo is just playing with her (Internal Conflict) while Romeo is worried Juliet might choose to refuse him after all (Internal Conflict). As proof Juliet asks Romeo to arrange for their marriage and Romeo agrees right away (Resolution). Romeo pretends he is over Rosaline with Mercutio and Benvolio and meets with the Nurse to arrange the marriage (Proof of Love). They then get married and renew their commitment to each other (Couple Triumphs).

The Love Story Plot:

This is the latter half of the play. Tybalt comes and demands to duel Romeo. Romeo refuses, so Tybalt duels and kills Mercutio. Romeo struggles between avenging Mercutio and his love for Juliet (Internal Conflict). He decides to avenge Mercutio, killing Tybalt and getting banished from the city (Obstacle 2). Juliet is angry with Romeo and torn between her loyalties to him and Tybalt (Internal Conflict) but soon decides to forgives Romeo (Resolution/Proof of Love). Romeo meanwhile breaks down (Proof of Love) when he believes Juliet doesn’t love him anymore, (Obstacle 3) but the Friar verbally berates him and the Nurse gives Romeo Juliet’s ring, proving she still loves him (Resolution). Romeo goes to Juliet and they make love (Proof of Love). They talk (Courtship) and say goodbye to each other in the morning (Separation of the Lovers). Juliet is then forced to marry Paris by her parents (Obstacle 4). With the help of the Friar she fakes her death (Resolution). But Romeo doesn’t get the news in time due to plague (Obstacle 5). He goes to her tomb and meets Paris, who demands to duel him (Obstacle 6); he kills Paris (Resolution). Romeo then kills himself (Proof of Love). Juliet wakes up and does the same (Couple Defeated…Triumphs?).

So obviously Romeo and Juliet is a love story in just plot alone. But is it also a romance? As you can see, they end up dead and do not succeed in having a full relationship.

That said, Romeo and Juliet do succeed in being true to each other and their love. They do not cheat on each other, think about cheating on each other, or decide not to pursue their relationship. And that, I feel, is more important than the fact that they could not be together in life. That is the couple’s goal, but not the goal of a romance. So yes, I do think theirs is a romance too, and why most people consider it to be one.

Example 2: Twilight

Speaking of another work that gets a lot of hate, Twilight! And of course you have the antis insist this isn’t a romance either. Unfortunately for them, the plot hews even more closer to the romance plot, with even more of a fulsome Courtship Arc. To whit:

Twilight:

Courtship Plot: Bella is a normal human girl who goes to Forks to please her narcissistic mother and worries about fitting in (Beginning/Set Up). She meets Edward on the first day of her new high school and is attracted to him (Inciting Incident). Unfortunately, Edward is a vampire (The Barrier). Not only that, but Edward wants to drink her blood (Obstacle 1). He resists, however, and leaves for three days later. They meet again and talk about each other (Courtship). Edward then saves Bella from the van the next day (Obstacle 2/Proof of Love). Bella demands answers, but Edward can’t reveal his secret (The Barrier). They don’t speak for one month until Edward gets jealous of love suitor Mike Newton (Obstacle 3). Edward and Bella become tentative friends, and Edward takes Bella to the nurse’s office when she gets dizzy smelling blood (Obstacle 4/Proof of Love). He insists on driving her home and they talk (Courtship). Bella and Edward spend the weekend apart but still thinking about each other; Bella learns what he is (Courtship). Bella then goes to Port Angeles with friends and Edward rescues her from rapists (Obstacle 5/Proof of Love). They then talk (Courtship), and Edward admits he is a vampire. The next day Bella and Edward go public about their situation (Courtship) and they talk at lunch, clarifying their feelings for each other; Edward invites Bella to the meadow on the weekend. Billy Black learns of their relationship and tries to warn Bella (Obstacle 5). Edward and Bella meet in the meadow and confess their love for each other (Courtship). Edward successfully resists his bloodlust all for his love for Bella (Resolution of Obstacle 1/Proof of Love).

Love Story: This is basically the latter half of Twilight and the rest of the series. Edward saves Bella from James (Obstacle 6) and the lovers are together again (Lovers Triumph).

New Moon:

Love Story: Bella and Edward are in love (Status Quo), but then Jasper tries to eat her and Edward’s self-loathing and desire for Bella to have a regular human life kicks in (Obstacle 2). Edward lies to Bella and tells her he doesn’t want to be with her and she accepts it (Separation of the Couple). For six months the two are barely functional (Proof of Love). Eventually Bella’s need for adrenaline leads her to a friendship with Jacob (Obstacle 3–yes, this counts) and starts to love him despite herself. Laurent arrives and clearly wants to eat Bella (Obstacle 4). He tells her that Victoria is out there trying to hunt her as revenge (Obstacle 5). Fortunately the wolves kill Laurent (Resolution). But then Alice comes and Jacob unintentionally tells Edward that Bella is dead (Obstacle 6); Edward decides to commit suicide (Proof of Love). Bella runs to Italy (Proof of Love), saves Edward from the Volturi (Obstacle 7) and they are reunited (Reunion of the Lovers).

Eclipse:

Love Story: Bella and Edward are in love (Status Quo), but Bella wants to keep her friendship with Jacob (Obstacle 3). She also doesn’t want to get married (Internal Conflict) while Edward doesn’t want to turn her into a vampire (Internal Conflict). Jacob is also opposed to Bella being with Edward for both ethical and personal reasons (Obstacle 3 again). Victoria is still hunting Bella but now she is making a whole new army (Obstacle 5 again). Bella realizes she loves Jacob in a potential-love-interest-way (Obstacle 3) but still chooses Edward (Proof of Love/Resolution). The lovers decide to get married (Couple Triumphs).

Breaking Dawn:

Bella and Edward are in love (Status Quo) and get married (Proof of Love). Bella and Edward make love, leaving Bella happy but bruised, which pains Edward so much he refuses to make love to her again (Obstacle 1). Bella seduces him successfully (Resolution) but then falls pregnant (Obstacle 2). The pregnancy is high risk, causing dissension between the two (Obstacle 3) but Bella convinces Edward to go along with her plan (Resolution). Bella delivers her baby and turns into a vampire (Resolution). She learns the ropes of vampirism (Obstacle 4) and harbors no romantic feelings for Jacob anymore; Jacob imprinted on Renesmee so he has no more love for Bella (Resolution). Irina finds out about Renesmee and, thinking she is an immortal child, tells the Volturi (Obstacle 5). This leads the Cullens to call their friends and prepare for any eventuality, and Bella learns to use her power (Obstacle 6). The Volturi come and try various excuses to execute the Cullens (Obstacle 7) but they are able to defend themselves aptly (Resolution). The Volturi leave and Bella and Edward can finally be together with their little family (Couple Triumphs).

As you can see, a lot of Twilight's Obstacles double as Proofs of Love, what with Edward and Bella saving each other constantly. That is perfectly acceptable and in fact a very common doubling in romance.

What Is Not A Romance?

Romances do have to have some provisos, a couple of quid pro quos. Again, though, there are some exceptions and writers can and will break the rules successfully.

They must be requited. Unrequited love on either side does not a main romance plot make. Unrequited love is mostly a romance subplot if that or as part of a love triangle.

They cannot be abusive (to each other). The lovers of a romance do not have to be good people at all. In fact, they (yes, it has to be both) can be bad or villainous…to other people. That said, their love must be actually mutual and good for each other, even redemptive. A couple who is bad for the world and each other defeats the point of a romance. Mutual enmity does not count (see: Enemies to Lovers).

Their love must be main plot. If the couple is not the focus of the plot, then it’s not a romance but a romance subplot. Subplots can be as complete or incomplete as they like, developed or underdeveloped, but they are subplots for a reason.

Can a romance focus on a beta couple as well? Generally no. In American romance novels, authors do set up another couple for the next installment, but that is not quite the same as page time and development. Romances focus on one couple at a time—once that couple’s love story is done, writers can move on to another couple’s romance. Stories that have more than one couple tend to be something else entirely.

What about second chance romance? Second chance romance is essentially the same as the Courtship Plot, since the work very rarely talks about the lovers’ relationship before they separated. So in plotwise it’s basically just like meeting each other for the first time.

What about love triangles? Unless Character C is framed as an obstacle in the overarching narrative, love triangles do not really count; they are more for coming-of-age or slice-of-life fodder. Polyamorous couples, however, should count in theory if their story has the romance plot. But of course, that is the rarest kind of all.

Keep Calm and Love On

There are some unconventional romances out there, to be sure. But they are ultimately rare; the standard romance plot should fit most works accepted as such. As always, romantic tropes and dynamics are neither good nor bad—they all largely depend on the the execution.

The only plot that may be confusable with the romance is the Marriage Plot, which is something different. Marriage Plots are essentially comedies of manners and they may or may not include romantic love or attraction as a major plot element. They are less about the couple’s erotic compatibility and more about their social compatibility. Austen’s works come the readiest to mind; a contemporary example would probably be Crazy Rich Asians. Otherwise Marriage Plots have much of the same beats as a romance.

So if you’re not sure if X is a romance, see how it fits within this plot. Nine times out of ten, you should get your answer.

[timoogi]

MADNESS IN MANSION AU MAIN CHARACTERS !

DISCLAIMER: this is just my au to have fun with, so not everything is gonna be completely accurate or “canon!” A lot of these characters have different stories from their source materials! And also this au is mostly about friendship, love, and family! It’s just something I think is cute and fun to work on! :3 Also also! Since some of them don’t have catchphrases, I made up little quotes!

The main cast! The main line up! The main players!

More info is down below!! :D

Judge Angels — “I will sentence you!” — Dina Clark was brought in by Slenderman while on the run for killing their CEO father and most of their family’s staff. Traveling with them, their mother’s corpse neatly packed in a suitcase. They just wanted to find a safe place for their beloved mother to finally rest.

Bloody Painter — “Don’t be excited for tomorrow.” — Helen Otis sought out Slenderman after realizing the police were hot on his trail. The pressures of life had built up, and all he wanted to do was create a new world from scratch. One filled to the brim with beauty and art. The world will bend to his will.

Ticci Toby — “Follows…” — After moving from Wisconsin to Alabama, Toby Roger’s life spiraled out of control. He had endured countless hardships, and the death of his sister was more than he could take. After burning it all to the ground, Slenderman gave him a place to seek refuge.

Jeff the Killer — “Go to sleep.” — Some people are dealt a shitty hand. Jeffery Woods’ life was standard, but that didn’t make it easy. In high school, things only got worse. At the hands of his peers he was burned alive. He survived, but his mind had completely shattered. He wants to pick up the pieces.

Homicidal Liu — “Today’s a better day.” — Liu Woods had always done his best to be a proper older sibling. He wanted nothing more to protect his younger brother. Maybe that’s why he barely fought back when his brother attempted to kill him. There was a moment of hesitation, and in that moment he ran. Slenderman had found him bleeding out, he promised he could keep him alive.

Eyeless Jack — “Do no harm.” — Jack Nyras had his whole life ahead of him. He was at university studying to be a doctor. However, unexpected things can happen at any moment. What was supposed to be a college party had turned into nothing short of cult activity, Jack being their ultimate sacrifice. He doesn’t remember much after their torture, only that Slenderman had found him bloodied and fundamentally changed in the forest.

Kate the Chaser — “Don’t look…or it takes you.” — Sometimes Slenderman sees potential. Slenderman saw great potential in Kate Milens. But not just anyone can become a proxy. Kate had gone through multiple trials without even knowing, always coming out favorably in the Slenderman’s opinion. Being so close to Slenderman, however, comes with symptoms… consequences.

Nina the Killer — “Go to sleep, my prince!” — Childhood friends with Liu, Jeff, and their friend Jane, Nina Hopkins was always a bright and cheery force of nature. Despite her efforts to get along with her peers, rumors had a way of creeping up. It was a good thing she had her friends to lean on. She always had her friends. She’d always have her friends. Friends don’t give up on each other.

Eyeless Lulu — “Gimme your eyes.” — Lucille-Tiffany Greatfeild never had luck making friends. It seemed no matter what she did, her peers found her weird. Growing up, she was a lonely child, however, going to college filled her with determination to break out of her shell and at least make a few acquaintances. She was befriended by a group of peers who were seemingly kind and caring, but sometimes things are too good to be true. Having heard of an new internet legend, they pressured Lulu into playing a stupid game, performing a silly ritual. They all paid the price.

Clockwork — “Time’s up.” — Natalie Ouellette came from a broken home. Ever since she was young, she was starkly aware of how unfair life can be. She had poor health as a child, often in and out of doctor offices due to various reasons, a bad flu or broken bones. Every time she exited the hospital, she heard the tick in her head, like her time was running out, being wasted, rotting away. As she grew up, this tick only got louder. Time was against her, and the abuse was getting worse. She had to do something. And she did do something. And then she ran.

BEN Drowned — “You’ve met with a terrible fate!” — Benjamin Lawman was a very lively boy. He loved making friends, drinking soda, and of course, frequenting arcades and internet cafes! Life for him was simple, it was perfect! But there are things that are out of your control, circumstances one is born into. Divorce is hard for the whole family to go through, but Ben had hope, an optimistic outlook. The look in his father’s eyes was scary as they drove to the lake alone, but his father was a rational man. Surely there was a rational explanation for all of this.

Sally — “Wanna play?” — Sally Williams had just turned 12! Her birthday party was held in Loblolly’s very own, new and shiny park! The year was 1973 and the summer air was warm and inviting. Sally had just finished opening her gifts, her favorite being a new teddy bear from her mom and dad. A true friend, soft and kind. While many kids showed up to her party, they didn’t have good intentions. One girl suggested they play a game before Sally got to the piñata. They blindfolded her, giggling and exclaiming, “We’ll guide you!” Really, they just wanted to see if they could get her lost. What they didn’t account for was the truck barreling down the road as they told her to cross it.

Lazari Swann — “I can do this!” — Lazari Swann never knew her mother and father. Her mother had died during childbirth, leaving her to the care of foster homes. She did her best. She made the best of any situation, always selfless, always helpful. But as she grew up, it gnawed at the back of her mind. Her father… where had he gone? Who was he? What did he look like? She only had one clue, a picture from her mother’s photo album with a location marked: Loblolly, Alabama. She’d get her answers one way or another.

Masky — “Always watches, no eyes.” — Tim Wright is a man of few words now. Not many know of how he came to be so reliable in the Slenderman’s eye, why he’s so guarded and keeps to himself, why he’s so close with Brian. They just know that his word is to be trusted, he knows what he’s doing. He is regarded as the most capable human in the mansion, and despite his attempts to keep everyone at a distance, many of the mansion’s inhabitants look to him for guidance.

Hoodie — “Can’t run.” — Brian Thomas is just as reliable, but because of his elusive nature, many don’t know how to read him quite right. He is more personable than Tim, handling most of the talking when the two of them are together. Brian is easy going, despite his circumstances, and can even crack a few light hearted jokes. But no one really knows much about him. Still, people in the mansion recognize his survivability and will take his guidance if Tim isn’t around.

Nurse Ann — “It won’t hurt… much.” — In the 1800s, there was a hospital in the woods of Loblolly, and Ann Lusen Mia worked there. She was a dutiful nurse, very caring and dedicated to her job. She believed in the good of humanity, and cherished being able to care for the sick and injured. A doctor within the hospital, a colleague of hers, informed her that he was working on a new method of care and asked her to be a part of it. She agreed, enthusiastic for the progress of medicine. Little did she know she would be the experiment. As she felt herself dying, she pleaded with any entity she could to help her, save her, and that was enough for Zalgo to offer her a deal.

Laughing Jack — “Round and round the mulberry bush…!” — The Laughing Jack is a mystery to many. He is a demon, taking the form of a monochrome clown with many nonsensical traits. He speaks in riddles and rhymes for the most part, always eccentric and mind-bending. He thoroughly enjoys being a nuisance to humans, a pest, a bother, but when it comes to more sensitive people or children, he can actually be quite a sweetheart. His morals are unknown to anyone as he is not tied to Slenderman or Zalgo and acts on his own accord. He seems to favor Slenderman though, for whatever reason, and so he has become a trusted ally!

Slenderman — “…” — The Slenderman’s origins are unknown. He has existed for thousands of years. After a gruesome battle with the underworld’s ruler, Zalgo, Slenderman was severely weakened. The battle ended in a stalemate, though it was surely in Zalgo’s favor. Too close to a victory for Slenderman’s liking. At the end of their battle, Slenderman had used most of his energy to lock Zalgo in the underworld dimension for good, but his seal wasn’t perfect. Many zalgoid creatures can still access earth, but as long as it’s not Zalgo himself, he has time. He started taking in lost and weary souls in hopes of building an army. He feeds off negative energy, his mansion feeds off negative energy, the forest feeds off negative energy. But what he didn’t expect was that these beings, human and possessed and undead alike, have started making him feel. He cares for them. And this care might be just what he needs to get rid of Zalgo for good.

[shen-jius-zoloft-prescription]

I love Shen Yuan as much as the next guy, but I think we in the fandom spaces give him a little too much credit sometimes. He's not Shen Jiu levels of absolute bastard, but he's also not great. And this is not me criticizing him!! I just think more people should love him for being the little brat that he is rather than the heroic, universally-kind saint that he decidedly is not.

He was a full-time internet troll whose main hobby outside reading web novels was going on rants in the comments. He uses slurs. Did we all just forget about the slurs? He did not grow out of that, or see the error of his message-board-harassment ways, he just lost his Internet connection. (He probably would have gotten points for being in character if he'd kept it up, though.)

He bends over backwards to protect Binghe, but he doesn't go to those lengths for literally anyone else, ever. He neglects his other students outright in favor of focusing solely on Binghe. He's not great with the disciples, he's just better comparatively enough to make you think he is.

He's amiable enough to build friendships as Shen Qingqiu, but he's not Miss Fucking Congeniality. He's just polite, and passively friendly in super normal ways. "Be nice to martial siblings," and "Don't kill that snake, it's not bothering anyone," are very normal levels of decency, and he gets SO MUCH CREDIT for it, mostly because the expectations for him were set so damn low by Shen Jiu.

I think my main evidence of "Shen Yuan is an asshole, actually" is how he continues to treat Shang Qinghua after finding out they're transmigrators together. Shang Qinghua is just as doomed by the narrative as he is, just as controlled and manipulated by the System as he is, but he's so fucking mean to Shang Qinghua about it, even though he couldn't have possibly known they would end up transmigrated and certainly wasn't responsible for putting them there. He has no empathy whatsoever for the fact that Shang Qinghua was forced to make his magnum opus into porn-riddled slop because he would otherwise have literally starved; spoiled rich boy meets his friend's "I would have starved!" explanation with a very [image of Paris Hilton wearing a shirt that says "Stop Being Poor"] energy. And he just never stops being so fucking mean all the time, about everything, to his best friend. I would not be friends with Shen Yuan if that's how I could expect him to treat me.

(side note that will get its own post: I also think the portrayal of Shang Qinghua throughout SVSSS is an example of Shen Yuan's unreliable narration.)

All this to say, he's a sheltered, spoiled rich boy with layers on layers of issues, who still managed to be exponentially better at his job than the guy who'd earned it in the first place.

And maybe that's what's fun to consider, as least for me, is that his goodness is assumed purely on the comparison between him and Shen Jiu; he was meant to be the Scum Villain, found guilty of all sorts of heinous acts, and therefore he's lauded as a perfect sweet baby angel because he settles for just being a little bit of a bitch, instead.

(Maybe the larger takeaway can be that PIDW is a horrible, wretched, unkind world, and therefore the bare minimum of kindness counts as being truly saint-like. 🤔 But that's also a different post, I think.)

[msbigredmachine]

☕Roman Reigns Menu☕

☕SIGNATURE DRINKS☕

Entangled

In a wealthy Hartford, CT suburb, two best friends fall into a tempting storm when a rich, devastatingly handsome man moves in next door. Wealthy, irresistible, and dangerously disruptive. Passion, jealousy, and chaos ignite…and nobody’s playing it safe. Based on characters from The Boy Next Door. [In progress]

Finding Angel (BRAND NEW)

In a world of bright lights, dark secrets, and sizzling chemistry, pro wrestling's biggest star finds his Angel. But as undeniable as their passion is, so are the obstacles threatening to tear them apart. [In progress]

The Boy Next Door

A sexy mysterious man is new in town…but mystery is not all he brings with him… (Co-written with @harmshake) AU romance/psychological thriller. [Completed]

Power Couple - The Series

They say, “Behind every great man stands a great woman”. But behind the Universal Champion and the Tribal Chief is a different breed of woman, a force of nature capable of bringing even the Head of the Table to his knees…and vice versa. [Completed]

Into The Deep End - The Saga

Sasha has always tried to play it safe, to keep her life as simple and risk-free as possible. Things change, however, when she garners the interest of a handsome, charming, younger man from a completely different world than hers. As she starts to question her own rules, is she ready to take the biggest chance of them all? Will she let herself take that dive? My very first Roman fic set circa 2014. [Completed]

Targets 

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story)  [Completed]

Roman & Jaida: The We Are Series 

He’s not her most favorite person in the world, but she finds it in her heart to be there for him in his time of need. In return, he shows her just how much he appreciates it. Set around the events of the 2015 Royal Rumble and the Blizzard Raw the night after. [Completed]

You Consume Me

She was beautiful, tempting, carefree, and everything I thought I wanted in a woman. One taste and I was hooked, abandoning everything and everyone I cared about to be with her. What I failed to see was the other side of her; a side that was dark, dangerous…Deadly.  [Completed]

Come What May 

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. So why did she feel like she was making the biggest mistake of her life? (Roman Reigns/OC/Tama Tonga)  [Completed]

☕DOUBLE SHOTS☕

You Again 

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series [Completed]

Talking Body 

Photoshoots, lingerie and a long overdue baecation are in store for Roman and Gia heading into their five-year(ish) anniversary. Let’s hope it all goes off without a hitch. [Completed]

☕SPECIALTY BREWS☕

Co-Star - Juliana “Juju” Hamilton, a celebrated TV star, and Roman Reigns, a former WWE icon stepping into his first major acting role, play star-crossed lovers on a hit series. But as they prepare to film their first sex scene, the lines between fiction and reality begin to blur.

Off The Record - When passion gets recorded, it becomes the hottest track of the year. Roman/Black Fem Rapper!OC

Midnight Sparks - On New Year’s Eve, the OTC retreats to a quiet bar, craving solitude. When a confident and captivating woman crosses his path, their connection ignites, turning a quiet night into something unforgettable.

Nothing Left - The tale of a marriage built on trust, torn apart by lies, and a woman’s breaking point that should never have been reached.

Handsy - When the OTC asks for help and you oblige him, he’s very happy to return the favor.

Behind The Mask -  Sometimes love demands that you fight not for yourself—but for someone who can’t fight back.

Cheat Meal - The OTC is hungry for a whole lot more than just good food.

Butterscotch & Chocolate - What’s better than a hunky, rich and powerful Samoan boyfriend? Why, two, of course! (Roman Reigns/OC/The Rock)

Kitty Kat - After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post-Summerslam 2024.

Black Sweatpants - Why did the Tribal Chief arrive late to the Pat McAfee Show? Based on Roman’s appearance on March 22 2024.

Checkmate - The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Santa Daddy🎄- All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

Sugar & The Chief - Reader is a best-selling erotic author reflecting on the success of her newest novel, which is based on her secret affair with the man who became her muse.

Say Cheese - A steamy after-work rendezvous with the Tribal Chief and his princess is captured in 4K. 

In Peace - When one of the Wiseman’s incessant phone calls comes at the wrong time 🙄.

Here With Me - As the Bloodline Civil War takes an unexpected turn of events, Reader comes up with the perfect pick-me-up for her Tribal Chief. Post-Summerslam 2023.

M.K.A.M. (My Kinda Morning) - Who says birthday sex has to end after the birthday?

Dirty Little Secret - They are each other’s escape, too good to let go of. Until they have to let go.

I Still Heart You - This year, Valentine’s Day takes an interesting turn for two exes.

Latch - The most meaningful conversations take place in the shower. 

Daddy The Sub - The Tribal Chief comes home to receive his punishment.

Feedback - The Tribal Chief loves it when you tell show him how much you like his promos. Set after that epic unification contract signing segment of Feb 25, 2022

Sex On The Beach - Remember that “Running Around Naked” promo the Tribal Chief cut some months ago? Well, this is exactly what happened on the private island…in my mind at least.

Boss Lady - It’s always good to have a close working relationship with your boss. But what if you want to be closer? More importantly, what if the feeling is mutual? AU.

I Won’t Let You Fall -She was ready to give up on herself, but one man had to let her know he was not ready to lose her, even if it meant revealing a certain secret he’d kept to himself for years. 

Gold Digger - Roman is having a hard time getting rid of his gold-digging ex-wife. What exactly does he have to do to get her out of his life permanently? AU.

Believe - Still hurting from a nasty breakup, Livia is convinced that love does not exist. But Roman decides to prove her wrong…in the most romantic way possible.

The One That Got Away - On the biggest night of her career, Hollywood movie star Beverley Tyler looks back on what might have been. There are things more important than fame and fortune. Beverley learned that the hard way. 

The Mechanic - An impromptu trip to a service station leads to an encounter with a sexy mechanic. Her car isn’t the only thing he works on. AU.

☕ESPRESSO SHOTS☕

Kiss Me (200 Words in May Challenge)

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[bluesunss]

The lovers Choi Su-bong (Thanos ) x F!Reader

summary: fate always has something far different in store for you than you expect. that is what you thought, quite literally, when that one-night stand never left your mind, no matter how hard you tried.

warnings: cursing, age-gap (reader is older, 34, while Su-bong is 28)

a/n: idk what to say haha. i've been sooo busy recently, i've proofread it quite a few times but probably not enough. also we've been handing essays in my mother tongue more so some sentences are probably my mind having a mandela effect and being convinced they exist in both languages.

Su-bong knew he shouldn’t have won. The guy at the bar had given him way too many glasses, and slid between his fingers two pills in exchange of a favor, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

The first time he saw you, was right after this victory. His opponent—JB The Great—was a bald retired rapper who came back on stage for that very battle. He’d heard of him a few times, quite popular among underground rappers trying to rise, a mentor for younger ones (Su-bong also knew that any new rapper that encountered him and had a bit of talent was sure to disappear by the next battle. Nobody knew how, nobody asked).

Su-bong hadn’t worked enough to have deserved his victory. At least, not like JB—who’d been overly active on his Instagram account, sharing pics writing lyrics whether it was in a shady studio, surrounded by grimy-looking socks and opened energy drink—and Su-bong would zoom in to catch a glimpse of the lyrics. Except that fucker would blur them out, and Su-bong knew it was ON PURPOSE to stress him out.

That’s why he cheated. He knew JB took something too—they mostly all did—except he managed to get something stronger, to cheat his way into that stupid victory against the horizontally challenged retired star (JB was huge, not big, not obese, literally huge, yet his stomach was flat. No clue how such thing was possible.)

For another reason, too. JB dated Su-bong’s ex. Su-bong had two exes (among many flings), and did not give enough of a fuck about them. But territoriality being an inherent flaw of man—Su-bong was not fond of JB and needed a way to get back at him. It was mutual (Su-bong did get the girl back for one night and made sure to send a ‘mistake’ pic to JB while she showered).

You were working behind the counter. Your makeup was smudged, your hair was disheveled, and your lips parted—the air of the club had gotten too heavy for you to breath through your nose only. The first thing he’d noticed about you, was the sweat dripping down your forehead, gluing your hair to your temple.

You were not his usual type. Under the dark-bluish light, Your hair appeared shinier—you wore long drop earrings, so thin and clear they looked like delicate glass teardrops, as if tiny rain drops floated above your shoulders on your bare nape.

However, they were the only jewels. No bracelets, no necklace, no loose hair. A low bun, or pony tail—he couldn’t tell from this distance. You seemed uninterested, with no desire to interact whatsoever, but you were concentrated on your task—nodding at orders with a far-away gaze, filling the glasses, making new drinks—so efficiently he believed you were a robot.

The bartender next to you would sometimes nudge your shoulder, whisper something, you would nod again, that mechanical movement he hadn’t realised could be so chilling, before grabbing a new glass, taking another order, repeating the movements infinitely. He found himself wondering—did you ever stop ? Even asking himself whether the club closed at night, forcing you to leave. It seemed obvious, at that instant, that your life was dedicated to this.

Maybe it was this, this instant, the realisation that you were quite like an automated doll—that he realised he wanted a try. To shake you, like your hands shook the drink, chest barely bouncing—that movement his eyes used to trace on other female bartenders. To disrupt your universe.

No, it was as if you were frozen, in another world.

Su-bong hadn’t realised that all this time, he was staring. Sitting on a far-away sofa, elbows propped on the table, eyes never straying away from your figure shadowed by the bar’s counter and human backs. His gaze followed your very movement, drink barely grazing his lips. He, who so usually focused on the liquid that scorched his throat, seemed not to realise the teeth that scraped the glass and the finger that gripped it so tightly, he would realise later his palm was marked red and cramping-up.

And then, you leaned down, disappeared for a moment, and he decided it was the right moment. He slammed the glass on the table and stood up, drunk-dazed. The pills were starting to wear out, he was definitely seeing clearer.

When you got up, towel in your hand starting to wipe the counter, Thanos rehearsed his signature smile.

“Hey, señorita.”

🌧

Such a nosy kid. You stared for a second, blinking in disbelief, as he ordered three shots in a row—setting them down abruptly and ordering more. You’d heard him sing—and his lyrics were kinda shit. You had no clue how people had bought it, The Great whatever initials had better flow, less obvious autotune in real life, better stature. The voice came out his vocal cords fluider.

But that Thanos guy—he had that thing—what was it called ? Charisma ? Swagger ? No, it was something else. A mix of both, a touch of something spicier. He had a great voice, you noticed the ‘sexy’ raspiness in it, as two younger girls sitting there a few minutes ago were whispering, but he had no control over it. He faltered, forgot a lyric (you knew when your younglings improvised—no matter how much they tried to hide it, it was as clear as day).

This guy needed voice training. And to chill on the pills Han-bin, your ‘colleague’ had given him, in exchange of a favor (it being the girl Han-bin wanted, you had no clue how two men had to get involved to pull one lady. They lacked romantic skills that much ?)

You’d also noticed that Thanos guy staring like a creep.

Whenever something like that happened, or any other suspicious behaviour from a random stranger stepping way too close to you, you’d blur your eyes and imagine a faceless thing, as not to get tricked by the face, should it be handsome, and only watch the comportment. Most of the times, it saved you.

And, definitely, that guy had an issue. He had watched your every movement, glass glued to his lips, like a cat awaiting the mouse. So, when he was saying whatever bullshit to you while swallowing in one go shots and shots and shots, you put aside the flirting and decided that your only interaction would be to give him what he ordered.

You needed the job, after getting fired from your studio for being too crictical over someone’s lack of progress in their nasal voice, even after giving them MANY detailed voice trainings to do at home. You knew they hadn't watched shit. But your boss disapproved. You lacked ‘tact’. They lacked talent.

You didn't make a big deal out of it, but you needed money, and you took this job, even if that meant dealing with an immature man in heat. It took more than that to trigger you. But that didn’t mean you weren’t annoyed. You couldn’t listen to other strangers because of his constant nagging—the drinks were starting to get to his brain, and he was uttering bullshit while grabbing your hand.

“M’ladyyy,” he mumbled. “More. Give me more.”

You usually didn’t care about strangers. At least, not enough to worry about their alcohol consumption while in an underground club. But, for a certain reason (your heart was definitely too soft), you felt slight pity along of the annoyance for the laid-out like a towel rapper on the counter.

“Nah. No more for you,” you finally responded.

That was all it took for him to rise, eyes-widened in hope.

“You talk!”

You bit your lip. You shouldn’t have said anything, now, he probably had his hopes up, which was not something you were willing to risk, at least not tonight.

“Calm down kid. You’re getting way too ahead of yourself, and I’m not dealing with a blackout tonight.”

He stared at you, dazed.

“Sexy voice,” he smirked.

You smacked the back of his hand.

“Sexy my ass.”

Grabbing the small glass in front of him, you put it under the counter to wash for later, before coming back in front of him and placing a hand on either side of his head that was buried in his arms, muttering some ‘Minsu Namsu’ bullshit.

“Hey, you should go home,” your voice came out a bit softer. “Do you have someone to call ?”

He didn’t respond, only slightly lifted his head mumbling.

“Girl do I look like I do,” he hiccuped. “Ain’t nobody want the legend over for the night.”

Against your better judgment, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Sleep and sober up. I’m coming back to throw you out if you’re not gone by 2,” you said.

But you knew you wouldn’t. He placed his head on his forearms, staring.

“Ok, pretty lady. Whatever you say.”

And then, he drifted into slumber.

🌧

It was at least half past two when you closed. You had to kick so many humans out, you weren’t sure if you could stand any more interactions. Hae-bin had ran off with a stranger, and although you were getting irritated by his behaviour, knowing it was mostly to run away from cleaning, you couldn’t afford to complain yet. At least, not until another job was secured. Hae-bin was the manager’s son.

Only one stranger was left. Oh, Thanos, sweet and dearest (if he wasn’t asleep, you would have definitely kicked his ass). Setting down the towel on a table, finally finished, you walked lazily to his stool, stopped right beside him and sat on top of one too.

Then, you paused. Observed him calmly. As you had turned off the multicolored lights, the soft white one allowed you a better look at his disheveled purple hair, or his rosy lips, or his soft cheeks. You could at least give that to the crowd : he had a beautiful face. Still rough, his eyebrows broke the gentleness of his delicate features—thick, arqued enough to give him a sterner look while being focused. His eyelashes rested against his cheeks, casting a shadow on his pale skin.

Your hand rose to brush away a purple strand from his eyes. Younger guys never attracted you. You’d had your fair-share of assholes, you weren’t interested in someone to babysit (anyone younger by a day was enough to be called a kid). He hadn’t even told you his age—you didn’t need it to guess. Late twenties, acting as if youth lasted forever, but an adult at heart.

Suddenly, fingers interlocked with yours, and your hand was brought to warm lips. Looking up, slightly flustered, you saw him staring at you with dark, intense eyes. He held your stare enough to cause you to look away, but his other hand tilted your chin.

“Nah,” he murmured. “Look at me.”

When he was drunk, he definitely acted like a kid. You hadn't expected his voice to come out so mature, so deep when sober. Those youngsters knew how to talk to girls. Shit.

Maybe you needed a break from work. Maybe you needed some attention. Maybe you needed to relax. But your eyes dropped to his lips, and that was enough for him to rise with a smirk. Shoulder to shoulder, his warmth seeped through your black uniform, forearms resting on the counter as his hand left yours to cast away a stray lock of your hair behind your ear.

His finger brushed down softly, following the thread of the earring hovering near your neck.

“They’re beautiful,” he said. 

Then, his eyes stared right into yours. The world stopped spinning. Your heart raced, and suddenly, you were drowning in his eyes. He lost himself in yours too, before, finally, dropping his gaze to your lips. Your eyes did the same. Up, down, up and down again.

Until they didn’t. Your arms snaked up to his neck and pulled him close in an instant. He responded eagerly in less than a second, and suddenly, your lips crashed against his with reckless hunger. He tasted like tequila, something bitter, something better, something absolutely addictive, and you only broke the kiss to get a better look at his face. You always needed to do that—to see whether the man was worth it.

And you found it. A man overcome by desire. Swollen lips from the kiss, flushed face, messy hair, heavy breathing, and desire written all over his face. So, in another movement, you smashed your mouth against his, and he let you, grabbed your hips roughly, lifted you onto the counter as something suddenly fell and shattered, but you were too gone to care, his hands roamed your hips, your thighs, your chest, until they reached your pants and stopped there.

He pulled away just for a second. Enough to take all of you—your low tied hair, your smudged mascara, your little beauty mark. And then, finally, he leaned in again, softer, calmer. “You’re beautiful, m'lady”, he murmured against your lips. You felt him smile against your mouth, before melting on your lips again. No apartment. No worries. No ties. That was the silent promise your skin etched onto the other’s.

🌧

You took a week off work after that night. Why ? You weren’t entirely sure. Bringing a friend along, you decided to travel to Busan and spend a touristic trip exploring a new city of your country. It was fun. Absolutely fun. Swimming, eating, flirting. You even went to the museum of contemporary art, which you hated, to change something. To feel something. But it was nearly impossible to get your mind off him. Off that night. Off what he made you feel. Your entire life, you had believed older men—or at least your age—knew better, knew women, were more mature. But fuck, this stranger, or at least ex-stranger, had shattered your entire beliefs. He knew how to take and give. Where, how, and that in many different ways. How long had it been since a night lasted so long yet so short ?

Staring at your palms, by the beach, you tried to understand something that didn’t make sense, that you couldn’t name. To see if anything had changed. But no, it was still same old-you. Just flustered. And lost.

Your friend screamed at you to get into the water, and you did, gladly so, the waves and the swaying water offered a little reprieve to your growing trouble—and you forgot for a moment about going back to Seoul and facing him—you hoped not—again tomorrow.

🌧

Except you didn’t. Face him. You had gotten ready, without realising it, quicker than usual, yet more meticulously. You weren’t usually excited to work, not that job, at least, but that night, you felt your heart beat erratically in your chest, as you gave the effortless woman-touch to your makeup, just enough to make your face remarkable, too less to strike as different. Because it was the impression you wanted to give : detached yet effortless. And you hated that a man was behind it.

But he didn’t come.

No, as Hae-bin handed you the glasses and you repeated the mechanical movement again and again and again, until you couldn’t anymore, until your fingers slipped and a glass shattered. Hae-bin sneered at you, the manager came and scolded you, but they let it slide. It didn’t happen again, you decided to focus. But the whole night went so slow, you felt as if each second lasted forever.

And it happened again. The next night. And the next. And the next. And the next week. And the next week.

Until you thought you had forgotten him. Almost a month had passed since. You were over it, and your brain was preoccupied with other stuff, your old boss had called you, telling you they needed substitute voice coaches (you knew she hoped to have you again, because her voice had a slight very distinguishable tremor in it—hesitation). Since nothing tied you to that club, you could pack up your things and leave. Hae-bin never liked you anyway, and the customers were merely strangers.

That is why, that Tuesday night, you were planning at the end of your shift to go to the backroom and talk to your manager about your choice to resign. You still had to work, and you decided to give it your best, even smiling at customers, so much so that Hae-bin checked on you with a fake-worried expression ‘are you ok weirdo.’

His hand was still on your forehead when you heard it. That voice.

“Ayyy heyy brooo,” he smacked his hand against Hae-bin's. “Yoo, how was the new stuff? It was my best batch. Want more ?” they chatted a few minutes, as you saw Hae-bin slide something to Thanos under the sleeve of his uniform. Thanos grabbed it, took a necklace out of his shirt, opened a cross and stacked the circular things in it with a low chuckle. “How’s Ha-na? She's a good one ain’t she?”

Hae-bin leaned in, approaching his face from Thanos’s ear and placed his hand around it, to whisper a secret. You heard glimpses of “chick” “top” “crazy” and decided it was too much. Almost throwing the glass to the customer next to them, you didn’t even glance backwards as you went to the bathroom, removing your gloves and throwing them in the garbage on your way. “Fuck this!” You thought. He hadn’t even glanced at you. Acted as if it didn’t matter.

Going inside a stall and locking it, you sat on the closed lid and buried your face in your palms. “Calm down,” you repeated to your mind. “Calm the fuck down. He’s a ONE-night stand. That’s literally why it’s called one night. Because it only lasts one night. No more. No less. Get over yourself. No man should make you feel this bad, and especially not a younger one like this.”

The voice in your head, more mature than you, managed to calm your nerves a little. Breathing a little easier, you decided to get through it, let the silent treatment do its trick. By tomorrow, you’d hopefully be gone, back at the studio. No more Thanos, no more purple-hair, and no more worry. You were looking forward to it.

Unlocking the stall, you opened the door, cursed because it was a pull-door (who even puts a pull door inside a public bathroom. Nobody wants to pull that shit closer), before letting out a scream.

“Thought you’d drowned,” he smirked.

Your brows furrowed immediately, you recollected your emotions. He was leaning cockily against the sink, back barely brushing it, arms crossed and head tilted with a sly smile—as if he could control you with just the way his mouth tugged. Your brain yelled he couldn’t, but your heart had a completely different idea of it, going buck wild in your chest. “I would’ve if I had known you were there,” you retorted. “Move, I need to wash my hands.”

“Nah. You haven't done anything in that stall, didn’t even flush the toilet. I’m not dumb.”

He uncrossed his arms, long cross dangling on his chest as he suddenly stepped closer to you, making you take a step back. “Move,” you repeated. “I don’t want to have to call security.”

He scoffed. “Security ? You ain’t calling no one, m'lady.”

“Don’t call me that.” “My lady.” He was infinitely closer now, your back pressed against a locked stall due to maintenance. ‘When would they fix it?’ You found your mind wandering, running away from this ridiculous situation.

“What do you want ?” You titled up your chin, taking him by surprise. You smiled, even though your lips were quivering. “Another kiss? Or maybe another night? Was one not enough for your greedy ass?”

Eyes slightly widened in surprise, he suddenly let out a soft laugh. “Oh señorita. You almost had me fooled there. But you’re the one needy for another night.”

He pinned you to the closed stall, hand sliding to your upper thigh, stroking the soft skin on the inner side. His mouth brushed against your ear. “See? Your legs are shaking, m'lady. Your body remembers me.” You bit your lip, tried to deny him, to push him away. But then, he stared at you with a sly smile. “Hm ?”

It was all it took. In one movement, your lips met his again, the familiar but oh-so-missed scent of him against your mouth, his breathing got heavier, needier, you weren’t even started that he muttered “Fuck” “missed you so fucking much”.

🌧

After that night, it happened again. And again. And again and again and again, until you lost count. Didn’t matter where, when, how, you don’t know—you hadn’t even quit your job—that he would find a way to get you back under him, against him, near him, so close it always felt earth-shattering.

Sometimes, he’d be giving a show to a loud crowd. You disliked his singing—he knew that—but you loved his raspy voice. And he’d tease you on purpose, singing lower, almost whispering in the mic, getting girls’ knees weak as he stared directly at you, always behind that cursed counter, wiping glasses and filling them repeatedly. He’d sing louder, win or lose battles, and you’d wait patiently for him to finish, to wipe his forehead, to disappear backstage before coming back, buying a drink—it had become a game—the specific drink meant a different meeting spot, should it be his car (Bloody Mary), the bathroom (soju), whiskey neat (backroom). And anytime, it would get messier, sloppier, worse.

Instead of feeling better, you felt worse. It drained you. You didn’t get back to your job, and when you called, they had hired a new girl. Then, Hae-bin noticed you mixing a wrong drink, and you almost gave a customer an allergy-attack by handing him the mango cocktail. Or the other night, when you gave a bottle to an underage kid. It was enough to get you fired. “I’m sorry I really like you girl (lie), but that’s not possible anymore.”

That is how you were (almost) on the street, your landlord hadn’t kicked you out (yet). Except you were too drunk. Drunk of him. You needed him—he became vital. You didn’t care about anything, your life had been passive because of the unnatural need you harboured for him. You’d spend nights at his studio, laying in his lap as he composed new lyrics, pinching your cheek when you corrected his vocal projection or the nasality his voice. “Let me do what I’m good at, and do yours, 'k baby ?” And his hand would be on the back of your head, holding your hair etc. etc.

Thanos didn’t ask many questions about you. Not that he didn’t care, you did see he was intrigued, by the way he sometimes stared a little longer while he smoked, absently looking at your face with gleaming while you talked with passion. Or that time, where you told him in a small voice that you were thirty-four while he was twenty-eight, but he barely shrugged, pulling your head back on his shoulder. Or the way he picked you up when you called, crying, the night you got fired, and brought you home, didn’t even suggest anything, bought you snacks and cuddled you to sleep. He still was nonchalant. Slept immediately after you'd done it, right after tucking your hair behind your ear, kissing your cheek.

It was when he was sleeping, eyelids shut, breathing softly, that you'd wonder what the heck you were doing. You’d remember the first night, ask yourself ‘what if I hadn’t touched his hair ? What if I hadn’t sat next to him?’, thinking about the life you could have had if he hadn’t ruined it, but then, he’d wake up, groggy, grab your waist and tuck you under the blanket with a kiss fierce enough to remind you that you belonged there.

That was enough, for as long as it lasted.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

It was draining. You barely slept, and when you'd wake up, almost living at his studio now, only to find it empty, smelling of smoke and dust. And when he’d come back, it would repeat and repeat and repeat.

It struck you one morning, while watching your favorite comfort show, one of them being the wife of a cheater. ‘I wait for hours in an empty home. I feel like a mistress while I should be a wife.’ And that struck home. Well, you weren’t delusional enough to believe he’d ever make you a wife—you didn’t even want a relationship this unstable with someone. But anything, not even a label, just a certainty that, when he’d come back home, it wouldn’t be by surprise, that you would know when he would go out or when he would come back, that he would text you more than randomly 'are you ok’ once during the day or even call you. You hoped for a bit of attention—a glance from a man so distant, starting to treat you like an old rag.

That was when the real distance began. The first gone were the texts. No more ‘what did you eat ?’ or ‘take-out tonight, choose fried chicken or tteoboki.’ Then, the kisses. No more ‘good morning’ stolen on your lips. No more ‘goodnight’. Not even the cheek 'sleep well’ after you'd done it. He’d take what he wanted, slowly, quietly, the passion was gone, just mechanical, until there was nothing left anymore, until he stopped looking at your clear drop earrings with admiration, telling you to wear them for the night, until he just stopped, and the distance became physical too. And one night, he’d just throw words with an annoyed undertone. “You did nothing again today?” or “Is that a wrinkle? Oh just a hair nevermind.” It seemed as though, he was working to annoy you on purpose. To get you to leave so he wouldn’t have to kick you out.

That is why you decided to leave, one morning, right when the door slammed. He was sweeter than usual, this morning. Smiled before brushing his teeth, said hi. And it was exactly why you wanted to leave. It was unbearable to realise, one day a month, you would get some acknowledgement, and even worse, it would make your heart beat again, get your hopes up, and make your forgive all his past mistakes on the spot.

You had already planned it, collecting the scattered make-up across the apartment. You hadn’t even put on a show as you usually did, cleaning the apartment or cooking out of boredom. No. It was strictly the silence and you, and the sunlight barely filtering through the closed shutters. You let out an annoyed sigh, walked to the window and abruptly opened them, almost ripping the handle off, as you swiftly raised the shutters. “This guy can’t even take care of himself,” you muttered to yourself.

And as the sun bathed the room, the clean air invaded the apartment, you suddenly got hit by a realisation. In this haunting silence, you felt it : the loneliness, the illusion, the perfect-bubble carefully crafted of a life that neither of you wanted. You were a roommate unannounced, and he was the kind stranger that took you in. Nothing more, nothing less. So, instead of breaking down, you walked to your makeup bag, put everything inside, zipped it shut, and took your few clothes, your toothbrush, and your dignity.

Maybe it was because none of you had dared to say it. You, because you were stubborn. He, because he was scared. Maybe those three words would have helped you hold on to something. But you were stuck between maybe and almost, and life was too short for uncertainty.

You hoped never to hear from Thanos ever again, so that your heart could take some time to heal. No note left, only leftovers in his fridge, and a clean parquet. You hoped he’d regret you for a bit, before moving on.

This was life. You were used to it.

🌧

Rebuilding your life was difficult. There was no way you’d beg Hae-bin for another chance, and your boss refused to hire you again. That is why, you decided to open an Instagram account to coach people hoping to get better at singing—or just taking control of their voice, mastering it. Getting views was difficult, and your content was very niche. Plus, it was embarrassing to just put a camera, stare at it, and then repeat AAH aaaah AAH aah to an imaginary audience, look at it to edit while physically cringing, posting it, and wallow in the waiting of the twelve likes that usually followed your posts, or that one regular commenter ‘so cool' (happy emoji) or the less regular ones ‘open your mouth wider’. It was quite embarrassing, and you made sure to block the rap star—mostly because you didn't want him to see you, and secondly, well, because he was so active, posting daily, or being spotted with a new star, that you wanted to shield your heart and your peace.

Except, one morning, you woke up to a hundreds new followers. Heart beating, you wondered whether you had posted something (…) by mistake, until you realised you that thgreatJB had reposted on his 12.4K page one of your videos, saying ‘check her out’.

Afterwards, it was a blur. The followers kept coming in, the DMs, the young teenagers wanting to become idols DM’ing you for advice, or even some older people with a reasonable amount of following asking for private coaching. You started to make money again, your life was getting better. You could go out again without feeling as if people were staring with judging eyes, you could smile without your heart feeling heavy. You started wearing makeup again, you went back to the salon, got your nails and your lashes done, and, slowly, you felt as if you were reviving.

Almost three months had passed, you were a new woman, reborn. People would flood your comments ‘you’re glowing recently girl!’ or ‘im not the only who sees it right’ and other people agreeing in the comments that you were quite beautiful, on top of a great voice. That was the boost you needed. You expanded your page, stopped replying to needy DMs who wanted advice but refused to pay a cent, that you used to take out of good will, opened a paid coaching service, your account gained more and more traction, your name got popular, agencies would call you, your boss even apologised for the way she treated you and asked you to come back. Life was treating you well. And you treated yourself well too.

But well.

It got boring, after a while. You were single and childless—no tuitions, hobbies to worry about paying, the bills were always settled, the rent paid in advance, you even started tipping. You didn’t buy much groceries.

You lived alone.

You were alone.

Your friends had gotten slightly opportunistic and you dropped them—you were at the age were bullshit was not needed. And there was, in your heart, this gap, unfulfilled. This small crevice that let everything pass through you like air. Like a gush of wind, so weak it barely shook you.

You missed him. Of all things that had happened in your life, of the hole he had dragged you down into, of the weird things he had made you try and the visions they made you see, a spark had been ignited, so ready to be alive. You had felt it. The way he made you feel there. Real. Out of your mechanical existence. It was so repetitive. So fake. You weren’t even alright with it, you didn’t like it.

And you hated feeling this way.

Opening the drawer near your bed, you found an old ring. Your ex-fiancé. He was a sweet guy. A bit worrying around the edges, and he had gotten slightly too lazy about life, expecting without giving, so you decided he wasn’t worth the headache. You did feel something when he propped down on one knee and opened the small black box, and you saw the gleaming ring. You said yes because you wanted to feel something. You let him slide the ring on your finger, let him kiss you. Even if you disliked silver. Because you wanted to feel something. To feel alive.

Absentmindedly, you slid it onto your ring finger, staring at your hand. You got lost in your thoughts, and before you could take it off, your phone dinged. Curious, you grabbed it, looked at the screen. A new DM asking for vocal training. Even the adrenaline of the popularity had worn-off. You slouched on your bed and accepted the DM. ‘700,000 won if you come tonight. Sorry if it’s too late, my audition is soon and I want to find someone quickly.’

Coming tonight? Well. That sounded intriguing. Routine-breaking. You told the stranger it was alright for you, he gave you an address and told you to wait outside the place. Even if that seemed slightly dangerous, you wanted some rush. You accepted.

Later that night, you changed your clothes, put light makeup. Your eyes fell on the white pair of earrings. Your fingers hovered above the desk, but you resigned last minute and went outside, carefully locking the door. You tipped the doorman—even if life had changed, you didn’t change your apartment, and felt the cool night air hit your face.

You walked quietly through the busy streets of Seoul. It was great. A start, at least. When your legs carried you between a sea of people and shoulders, you could forget for a minute. After half-an-hour, you saw the spot. He had said ‘under the lamppost’. You were worried it would be shady, but it was quite clean, and some people were chatting outside or smoking with lively voices. It seemed safe. You found the tallest lamppost ('with a deflated red balloon tied to it, nobody removed it since years', he had texted), and quietly leaned against it, scrolling absentmindedly as you waited.

You heard rustling, and suddenly, a familiar scent struck your face with such intensity, you suddenly spiraled back to that first night at the bar. Your heart beat erratically, you put a hand on your chest to calm it down, refusing to look up, hoping he was just a passerby.

Except his shadow stopped right before you. The familiar sneakers. A hand resting above your head, as he leaned in dangerously close. “Hey, señorita.”

🌧

“What brings you here?” You asked, staring at the brownish drink swirling between your palms. “Same as you. Vocal training. Except you’re the trainer, and I’m the student.” His voice was still as smooth. Still as silky. Still as deep. It struck exactly where it had all those months. All your body vibrated. “So you created a fake account.” “Nah we’re not putting this on me m’lady. You’re the one who left like a coward.”

You did not take a sip, tapping your fingers on the glass. His head was resting in his palm, slowly rotating his glass while staring at you. When you finally lifted your head to meet his eyes, his lips tugged into a half-smile. “Well hello there. Missed those eyes.” You bit your lip. “You still talk too much.” He shook his head. “Nah, you too little. For a vocal cord trainer, you’re an awfully silent expert.”

That brought a small smile to your lips. You finally took a sip. It burned your throat, and you stifled a cough. “Coach doesn’t play.”

He didn’t respond immediately, observed you intently, eyes piercing a hole through your skin. “Oh yeah?” Then, silently, his hand went to your cheek. You stopped playing with your drink, paused too. Lifted your gaze and met his. Way longer than you should. “Yeah,” you whispered. He kept watching you, nodded slightly, an instinct. “Coach was quite loud when I got her to be,” he suddenly said. Your face burnt red. “That’s the past.”

His cold eyes held yours an instant before looking at his glass again. His quietness was unsettling. As if he was putting an act. You felt like, he was ready to shatter the glass in his palms, knuckles white because of how hard he was gripping it. And his eyes, who used to be warm, well, not before you left, were cold. A different cold. A chilling cold. As if something way scarier was brewing under those distant eyes. Something terrifying.

“Oh I see,” he chuckled a low, far-away chuckle, pointing his cheek toward your naked ears, then your ring finger. You widened your eyes. “That…” “I don’t care, señorita.” He smiled without his eyes. Shit. Your heart froze. The smile was from another galaxy. This guy wasn’t with you right now. He despised you. A shiver ran through your spine. “I’m… I’ll go to the bathroom.” Getting up, you grabbed your purse, but his hand suddenly gripped your wrist so tightly, you felt his fingers mold your skin. “Did I say soju?” he said in an ironic tone.

You froze. “We’re not doing this.” “Fuck yes we are.” You were talking without looking at his face, your right side facing him. “No.” “I’m not playing with you girl.” “What do you want.” He got up, slammed his fist on the counter so hard, the drink spilled. A bartender said something, but Thanos glared so hard he ran away. “The fuck I want? Since when do you give a shit what I want, huh?!” His voice was rising. You clutched your purse unsteadily, noticing how dark the bar was, how it smelled so rotting, how hot it was. “Don’t fucking start this,” you said. “Look at me,” he ordered. “Let go of me.” “Look at me.” “No let go of-“ “LOOK AT ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE! IS THAT TOO DIFFICULT?”

Immediately, you turned around, pressing your purse to his chest. “Calm down!” You said in a quiet tone. “Thanos this is not-“. He yanked the purse from your hand and grabbed your wrist, walking in long strides, before slamming the door to a backroom shut. “You ain't fucking leaving, coward,” he spat. The last word came like a knife, split your skin apart. “Don’t call me that,” you threatened. “I’m older than you.” “Older?! So fucking mature! Running away from your feelings is the only fucking thing adults are good at!”

You felt yourself stumble on something but caught yourself back on a messy desk. Realising what room you were in, you took it all in, the scattered papers, the opened cans, the dusty boxes, the ground littered with cardboard and unidentified objects, the dim flickering light. You could barely stand, let alone two people. “You’re an adult too! Don’t take this tone with me,” you muttered. “Oh I’m an adult now? You choose when I fucking am or not?” “I don’t choose shit! I reflect on your comportment. You wake up and tell me ‘one more wrinkle’ or ‘someone’s lazy today’, as if I’m your fucking wife that you forgot at home!”

In frustration, you grabbed a nearby pencil and pointed at him. “No, not even your wife, a mistress!” His eyes were quivering, irises surrounded by a black orbit. “Don’t give me this bullshit. You’re as faulty as me, if not worse. You come to my place, eat my damn food and what do I get in return? You fucking leaving without as much as a word goodbye. You do realise how I should be feeling, no? Don’t blame me for not hugging you and being fucking nice right now!” “Oh so having me was nothing? Sleeping with you every night was nothing? Even to a mistress, you wouldn’t say that!” your voice broke.

His eyes stayed hard, his anger dominating his emotions. “Stop this mistress bullshit! You weren’t my mistress!” “EXACTLY! It’s exactly that! I was NOTHING. Nothing to you!” You shouted back, pen still pointing toward him. He stepped toward you and flicked your palm, sending the pen flying. “You’re twisting the conversation! Stop fucking lying and face yourself!” “Face what! There’s nothing to face! Now let me OUT!” You pushed him away, hands pressing his chest and strode to the door. As you grabbed the handle, you kept insulting him. “You killed this! You stopped caring about me. We never gave this a name, so you don’t have the right to get mad at me.” The door wasn’t budging. You tried again, but it stayed frozen. “Fuck and now we’re stuck! Thanks to you! Perfect!” You threw your hands in a powerless motion. “Let us out!” He shook his head, still silent. “No.”

“What the heck is wrong with you. I don’t get it. You bring me here, only to fight with me. Is it an ego thing? Because I left? Get over it!” He rose his head, back against the messy desk and palms resting on the counter. “You don’t get shit, do you?!” “Not if you don’t explain!” “Aren’t you the most mature, you should fucking know!” That’s when you punched the drawer beside you. “Go to hell, Su-bong! You’re just an entitled piece of shit!”

His anger was so quiet, you felt your heart beat in anticipation of his next reaction. It was terrifying. “Am I?” His voice came in a whisper, a glimmer in his dark eyes that pierced yours. “When everybody at the Underground fucking know who you are, and I learn from a fucking noob that isn’t half my age that his coach is the woman I slept with for months, the only fucking woman I ever gave cared about, and who left me like a piece of shit without even a word goodbye? Who’s the entitled piece of shit?!” “This was bound to end!” You shouted. “I was rotting! I had nothing, nothing anymore, but your body when you gave it to me and a small part of your soul when you dared!”

A flicker of pain passed in his eyes, and his voice came harsh before he could stop it. “I was hurting too! The… the day I fucking saw you, the first time, you worked lifelessly, you were like a robot, and I thought I just… I wanted to see you alive. I don’t know why. I just did. And then…” his voice is shaky. “After some time, you looked at me the same. Empty. I would try to give you something, but your eyes stopped looking at me. You weren’t there! I was with a fucking robot!” “Then give it feelings!” You shouted back. “You treated me like shit!”

Against your volition, your eyes welled up with tears you were not able to stop. Rolling down your cheeks, the first tear came out silently, and you wiped it with the back of your hand. “I’m no saint, Su-bong,” you added. “I have feelings.” “Yeah, for someone else,” he spat. “I’m not falling for your bullshit when you’re… whatever the fuck that is.” Following his gaze, you yanked the ring from your finger. “Oh fuck you! I don’t care about this shit. Take it if you want!” You threw it at him, and he caught it mid-air. He stopped talking for a second.

You stayed in silence for a few minutes, chests heaving loudly. You wiped your tears, heart still aching. “Do you notice something?” Your voice came out more assured than you thought. “Notice what?” “The ring. Look at it.” He spun it in his palm. “No fucking shit. What do you want,” his voice sliced the air. “The ring. Look at it well.”

He paused. Stared at it better. “It’s silver,” he then said. “Tiny diamond. Around 10 grams-“ “I don’t give a fuck about that. Say the first sentence again.” “What?” “The first.” “It’s silver.” “Now think.” He stared, confused and annoyed. “I’m not doing this shit-“ Then, he looked at it again, as if struck by a realisation. “It’s silver. You…” he looked at your wet eyes. “You don’t like silver.”

You nodded. “Exactly.”

He looked at you, confused. “But… what…” “Su-bong, do you think at my big age, and my wrinkly face,” you said as he shamefully looked away, “I would marry a guy that doesn’t know what I like?”

Su-bong crushed the ring in his palm.

“There’s nobody else?” he stared at you with a surprised expression. You shook your head. “Never was. I’ve… I’ve tried forgetting you. I really have. But I can’t. I always came back to this,” you looked up. He was holding his breath, unable to respond. “You really hurt me,” you finally cracked. Your shoulders quaked, and you couldn’t stop the tears anymore. “That was so… so painful…”

Slowly, ever slowly, arms suddenly wrapped around your trembling body, pulling you close, chin resting on the top of your head. “Me too. I’m… I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you,” he finally said. He pulled away for a second, stared at your bright eyes. “Don’t pull this shit again. Don’t run away. I wanted you.” “You didn't make me feel like you did.”

Gently, his fingers left your shoulder, one by one, before he pulled away. “I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.” “It isn’t.” He nodded in promise. “It’ll be.” Then, he opened his palm again, stared at the gleaming ring.

“Can I destroy it?” “Please.” He threw it on the ground and stomped his foot on it. “To hell with that. I don’t fucking want anyone in the way of us anymore,” he declared, suddenly determined. His voice came out more confident than you thought. “Us?” “Yeah. I fucking wasted too much time on this shit. I’m so done fighting.” “What do you mean?”

He breathed heavily, as if you were stupid but he liked you. “What I mean,” he started, stepping closer, “is that I’m done with all this bullshit and this running away. I’m not ready to let someone else have you. I…”

“You don’t have to say it,” you whispered. Your hand rose to meet his, his fingers interlocked with yours. He stared at your eyes for so long, he felt as if the world had stopped spinning for an instant and the universe was on hold. He nodded quietly. He still wasn't ready, but he'd be. “I want to.”

This time, it was him who kissed you first. It used to be you, always. But your salty lips were met with his bitter ones, so sweet against yours, always being there to mold with the other’s, to complete them. “I…” His voice broke as he pulled away. “I really like you.”

It was as if a new world had unfolded before him. His eyes started glimmering again, his heart beat again, his walls came crashing down, and he suddenly let himself fall into the crook of your neck, humming your sweet scent. “Shit, I missed you so much, m'lady. So so much.”

He pulled away, breathless. “I like you so much. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life but this.”

“But why?” you cried softly into his palms, as his thumb worked to brush the teardrops away. “Because. It’s just like this. I can’t explain it.”

“Then why did you push me away?” In his face, you saw frustration, pent-up anger. “I felt things. I don’t like it. I’m not used to it.”

You stared at each other silently. Then, you nodded. “We have time.”

So he kissed you. Longer. Harder. Better.

Like he meant it. “I really like you too,” you murmured against his lips.

And it was enough. At that moment, it was enough, and your heart was whole for the first time since so many years. As long as you would have him, as long as he would have you, then you would be okay.

i hope you will enjoy this!

@breakmeoff

[turtlecleric]

[runs through your wall at full speed like the coolaid man] FOR THE DIALOG-ahem, sorry. screaming. for the dialogue prompts 👁👁 may I humbly request number 2 with rise leo por favor mi amor 👁👁

Hiiiiii Keishaaaaa 💕 anything for you, my dear!

-

“Come here, dumbass.” with rise!Leo

AU where future!Leo came to the past with Casey Jr.

CWs: blood, death, technically reader death but also not? 

-

Leon catches himself staring, sometimes. He'd thought that maybe his memory had put you on a pedestal after he'd lost you, painted you as kinder and more lovely than you actually were - but no. You're just as he remembers, with that laugh that makes his heart flutter and those eyes that make it impossible to say no if you look up at him just right. It's so strange, knowing a version of you that doesn't know him. A you that doesn't seek him out. A you that belongs to someone else. 

Well. It's not really someone else, but… in all the ways that matter, it is. 

It has to be karma. Some sort of twisted punishment from the universe. That's all it can be, really, when he has to watch his younger self act like a complete and total jackass around you. Flirting with you constantly but never actually making a move. Making you blush and laughing it off. Cracking jokes and pushing your buttons and making Leon lose his fucking mind because he knows so much better now, knows that you deserve better. 

He's got to keep it together. 

It's movie night, now. Leo is sitting next to you. Pressed against your side, with an arm around your shoulders like it means nothing. Like Leon wouldn't give anything to so casually hold you in his arms again. 

Leon tries to focus on the movie, but he can smell the faint scent of your shampoo from here. He keeps looking back at you, unable to stop himself, and when Leo's fingers idly caress your shoulder, Leon catches the pretty pink that dusts your cheeks. 

It reminds him of… certain memories. Memories he really shouldn't be thinking about right now, in the same room as a much younger version of you. Although, you were about this age when he and you first started to-

Leon breathes slowly. Forces his gaze back on the movie. 

“Are you cold, hermosa?” Leo murmurs in your ear, drawing Leon's eyes to you once again. Leo's mouth is right up against your ear, and his fingers continue to trail slowly up and down your arm. “You've got goosebumps.”

You swallow, breathing a little fast. Leon gets a little lost in the movement of your throat, then in the way your lips part as you speak. “I'm okay. Thanks.”

Leo hums, watching you intently for a few more moments, then shrugs and turns back to the movie. “If you say so.”

Leon wants to punch the smirk off his stupid face. 

By the time the movie ends, Leon has long since given up trying to stop himself from glaring. He can tell that you've noticed, but Leo is acting like everything is fine. He might even be enjoying Leon's quiet rage, if that cocky smile he gets every time he glances at Leon is anything to go by. 

Leon wonders what it would mean for him if he strangled his younger self to death. He won't know unless he tries, right?

He's joking. 

Mostly.

Movie night ends. You say goodnight. Give everyone a hug. Everyone but Leon, of course. Respecting the boundary he's put in place, even if you don't fully understand why. You give him a little wave instead. It's still too much, but he nods in response, trying to ignore the way his chest tightens at your clear disappointment. 

How could he possibly explain?

He waits until there's no doubt that you're out of earshot to confront Leo. “Stop messing with her.”

There's that cocky smile again. “I don't know what you're talking about, Viejo.”

Leon takes a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that simmers beneath his scales. “She doesn't deserve your bullshit, Leo. She deserves to be treated with respect.”

“Come on, old man, what happened to you?” Raph hisses Leo's name. A warning that Leon himself has heard a thousand times. A warning he's missed having, wished he could've heard just one more time, a thousand more. And just like he always did, Leo pushes forward anyway. “What? I'm just saying, he's blowing this way out of proportion. What's the big d-ah!”

Leon grabs Leo's mask tails, yanking him closer and snarling, “Come here, dumbass.” He holds Leo there, glaring into the wide, shocked eyes of his younger self, and before he can think better of it-

Their eyes glow blue when the mind meld connects. 

An odd echoing, familiar but warped. Looking into a mirror in a dream. A flurry of thoughts, a maelstrom of emotions. Flashes of color blurring into images into memory into

He's calling your name. You always answer when he calls. Always. So why aren't you answering? Why

Screeching. Screaming? Each footfall sends a jarring impact through his bones. He needs to find you. Where

Everything stops. Spins, tilts, then settles into place, but it settles wrong because it's you but 

He says your name, but it's like a question he doesn't want the answer to.

He rushes over, tripping over his own feet. Clumsy, Leo, what is he

It's you but

You're stuck, lying flat in the dirt. Impaled by the claws of a dead hound. Of course you took the fucker out with you. Of course you

“Leo. Can't- can't breathe.”

Your hands reach for him. Slick with blood. Panic, his, yours, choking, choking

When he removes the hound you shriek, sobs ringing in his tympana. Gasping. Begging.

“I know baby, I know. I've got you, okay?” He needs to get you back to the base. Get you patched up somehow. Ignore the red. Ignore the

“H-hurts.” He can barely hear you. He gathers you in his arms, wincing at the choking screams. He knows it hurts, he knows. “Leo. Leo, please-”

His hands are sticky. Almost home. “Shhhhh, I've got you. It's okay, it's okay, just keep breathing.”

They're everywhere. It's so loud, but you're so

Quiet. Why are you

Movement. Sound. Impacts that fall too close, making him stumble, but he still makes it through the portal, makes it to the medbay, places you on the cot. You're staying so still for him while he works. You always were a good patient, but this is

Wrong.

“Leo.”

“Donnie, get me a bag of O neg, I need to-”

“Leo, stop. Please.”

Slick hands. You're so quiet. You're

They're pulling him away, but he's not done. He has to patch you up, can't they see that you need

“Leo, stop!”

You're

The connection snaps like a frayed string. Leo staggers backward, his shell colliding audibly with the wall, and he slides to the floor. His plastron heaves with every breath, his eyes wide and horrified, and Leon watches quietly as tears streak down Leo's face. The cocky smile is gone, and he can't find it in himself to feel anything but hollow satisfaction. 

Someone says something, but Leo is focused only on his younger self. Surely, surely, he understands now. He stalks forward, crouching and grabbing Leo by his sash to pull him closer. “She. Deserves. Better. Get your shit together. I won't tell you again.”

Leo stares up at him, eyes somehow widening further. He's visibly shaking, and all Leon can think is good. 

After a long, tense moment, Leo nods. Leon releases him and stands, glaring down at Leo for another few seconds before he's fully satisfied. He turns on his heel, going straight to his room without another word. 

No one follows.

-

Tag list: @yorshie @luckycharms1701 @khayalli @mxalmighty @justalotoffanfiction @thelaundrybitch @shakeyourtrees @silverwatergalaxy

[0798f]

💞 — Vis Amoris.

RELATIONSHIP: Alhaitham x Reader (college au)

SUMMARY: The force of love | Alhaitham creates a misunderstanding, Kaveh accidentally exacerbates it, and you’re left with terribly annoying feelings.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! This was longer than expected (2.4k)! Enjoy this hilarity.

“Hey, (Name)! Where are you heading with those flowers?” Kaveh waved down (Name) before they could pass him by in the hallway. There had a small bouquet of flowers in their arms; a variety of carnations and daisies tied neatly together with a red ribbon.

They were caught off guard by Kaveh, suddenly looking a bit shy. “Oh, ah, I was going to... give them to Alhaitham!”

“Seriously? Why him?”

Kaveh was the first person (Name) befriended after entering university. He was kind and friendly, a wonderful person to be around, and made nights at the bar very lively. If not for him being a dramatic and loud drunk, then for his enigmatic group of friends that (Name) also became quite close with over time.

In those few years, (Name) had become great friends with Kaveh, Cyno, and Tighnari, but especially Alhaitham. The other three found that relationship quite interesting; most were put off by Alhaitham’s attitude but (Name) appreciated the challenge. They’ve overheard other students call Alhaitham unfriendly but he hadn’t been anything less than polite to (Name). Maybe that was because he was a kind person at heart, but sometimes (Name) drifted off into a daydream where Alhaitham liked them more than just a friend.

Alhaitham appreciated honesty and rationality. What was more rational than being straightforward with their feelings? “Well… I just… y’know! I like him! So I wanted to tell him…”

(Name) hoped the look of shock on Kaveh’s face was because he hated (not really) Alhaitham and hated (not really) when good things happened to him. But after the shock wore off his expression morphed into something more of concern. “Well, uh, I really hate to break it to you, (Name), but we went drinking last night and I got drunk and started giving him a hard time.. the usual! Somehow we got onto the topic of relationships and I was lamenting about my life and I was complaining that girls keep trying to get me to pass confession letters to him—”

“Kaveh, is there… like… a point to this?”

He took another deep breath, “there is, I swear! Since I was complaining about all that I asked him why he keeps rejecting confessions and he said he didn’t have any time for a relationship!”

(Name)’s heartbeat flatlined at Kaveh’s words, the weight of the bouquet suddenly becoming all too heavy. The optimistic smile on their face had dropped into a frown. “Oh,” was their only response. What were they supposed to say? (Name) suddenly felt very silly.

“I’m really sorry, (Name)!” Kaveh bowed his head in shame as if he was to blame for any of this. “I feel really bad!”

(Name) shook their head and smiled. Much too empathetic for his own good, Kaveh could easily see that their smile didn’t quite reach their eyes. He felt terrible, he really did; he wished Alhaitham liked (Name), they were so perfect for each other! Kaveh was even sure that Alhaitham had a crush on (Name), and was shocked to learn that he didn’t.

“Hey, relax,” (Name) hummed. They appreciated the comfort and care from their friend and kept their smile unwavering for Kaveh’s sake. The last thing they wanted was for him to feel guilty about telling them— he had done them a favor, after all. Saving them from having their confession rejected by Alhaitham himself. But there was something equally disheartening about knowing that their feelings never even stood a chance. “I’m glad you told me. Saves me from the heartache, right? It’s no big deal, anyway... Just a crush.”

The bouquet fell to their side, petals floating to the ground.

It had been an odd week for Alhaitham.

(Name) was one of his closest friends and he quite enjoyed being around them. He was sure (Name) felt the same way— until they were suddenly avoiding him at all costs..

They had classes together so they couldn’t always avoid him, but even then they were trying their best. Alhaitham looked across the lecture hall, where (Name) had found a seat completely opposite of him. If his texts being ignored wasn’t enough to make the point clear, the empty seat next to him cemented it.

They had been sitting there for day. Initially, Alhaitham let it go on, unsure how to approach the situation. He was book smart, yes, but for all his research into human nature he felt clueless about what to do when a friend began ghosting you out of nowhere. They didn’t write scholarly articles about that. But, he had to at least try himself.

The class ended and as students began filing out of the classroom Alhaitham managed to catch (Name) as they were putting books back into their backpack. Something was clearly wrong. (Name) looked taken aback at Alhaitham’s presence, and they couldn’t even look him in the eye. He felt quite awkward, but he pushed past that. “(Name)... Did you see Tighnari’s message? We’re watching a movie tonight. Are you going to join?”

(Name) gave Alhaitham a smile, though it seemed a bit forced. “Sorry, Alhaitham, but I am just swamped with homework tonight. I’d love to join you guys, I really would, but I just need to focus right now!”

And, with that (Name) rushed out of the room without even saying goodbye, leaving Alhaitham in the dust. He stood there for a few moments, an unpleasant feeling attacking his heart. Did he do something wrong? Alhaitham had no idea and it had been eating away at him all week. He sighed and left the lecture hall to make his way towards his friends, who had already been waiting for him to show up.

“There you are. We’re gonna miss the previews.” Cyno admonished Alhaitham as he approached the group waiting at the quad.

“Only you want to see those,” Tighnari rolled his eyes. He looked behind Alhaitham once he noticed someone was missing. “Where’s (Name)?”

“(Name) said they were too busy.” There was a tangible dejection in his words that felt all too earnest coming from Alhaitham of all people. The sound of disappointment even surprised Alhaitham himself.

“Are you sure they’re busy? Aren’t they mad at you?” Tighnari’s comment piqued Alhaitham’s interest and made Kaveh’s heart stop. Mad!? Sure, Kaveh overheard Cyno and Tighnari’s whispered conversations over the past week about (Name) acting weird around Alhaitham. But who said (Name) was mad!? No one knew about (Name)’s crush, right?

Alhaitham tapped his chin in thought. “Are they mad? They have been trying to avoid me lately…”

It was so sudden. Alhaitham hadn’t realized how practically attached at the hip he and (Name) were until they began to distance themself lately. Had he done something to make them upset? He thought about it, nothing came to mind; (Name) didn’t act angry around him and smiled like usual.

Cyno blinked. “They’re mad? I thought they liked you.”

Kaveh looked like he entered catatonic shock while Alhaitham mulled over the idea in his head. He did not react for the first few moments. (Name), liking him? Romantically?

People either treated Alhaitham like he was a jerk or like he was the unattainable man of someone’s dreams. (Name), though, never cared for those labels and treated him like he was regular person from the very start. What was the line between platonic and romantic? Alhaitham tried to think about the differences. (Name) always stopped by the library to give Alhaitham some snacks during his long study sessions. (Name) always sat next to Alhaitham when they went out to drink. (Name) always listened to Alhaitham talk about his research, no matter how boring it might have been to the average person.

Did that mean something?

“What are you talking about! (Name) totally doesn’t have a crush on Alhaitham anymore!” Kaveh waved his arms frantically to distract from the situation. And upon realizing what he said only stoked the fire, increased intensity. “Not that (Name) ever had a crush on Alhaitham! They don’t even like him! Well— I mean, that’s not true, obviously, but it doesn’t even matter, because Alhaitham doesn’t like them back!”

The silence had never been so loud. Cyno and Tighnari stared at Kaveh in disbelief, the latter shaking his head at the outburst that seemed to reveal a bit too much information.

A light bulb went off. Alhaitham recalled telling Kaveh he had no time for a relationship when they went drinking a week ago. Alhaitham was confident in that declaration initially, but (Name) becoming so distant made Alhaitham feel like he was missing something. He didn’t realize how much he appreciated their company, and he didn’t realize how much he took them for granted until they were avoiding him.

Everything finally fell into place in his mind. “Oh, I see. I do like (Name).”

“Are you KIDDING ME!?” Kaveh let out an exasperated groan and fell to his knees in the middle of the bustling quad. Some other students walking by looked at the group in confusion. “I told them that you didn’t like them! That’s why they’ve been trying to avoid you all this week!”

The other 3 guys stared at him in disappointment. “Wow, Kaveh,” Cyno chided, shaking his head. “Not a great wingman. You left (Name) and Alhaitham on the ground.”

Walking away from Alhaitham made them feel terrible. (Name) hated to avoid him, but just being around him and knowing their stupid feelings were unrequited made their heart hurt. Alhaitham was a great friend and it felt awful to abandon that, but was it wrong to wish for something more?

Shaking their head at the thought, (Name) continued walking down the street. It wasn’t fair to any of their friends to let this silly crush get in the way. They’d have to get over it soon, to avoid suspicion but also because they just missed hanging out with all their friends.

They turned the corner and was startled at the sight of Alhaitham waiting at their bus stop. Aside from all the circumstances that made this an awkward encounter, (Name) also left campus much earlier than Alhaitham did. “Alhaitham? How did you get here?”

“I ran.”

That did answer (Name)’s question but they were hoping for a little more elaboration. “Okay… why? I thought you and everyone else were going to go watch a movie.”

The absurdity of the situation made it easier to talk to Alhaitham, even after avoiding him for so long. And (Name) was quick to realize that they really missed being able to talk to him like a normal person and not feel their heart breaking knowing the feeble scholar who just ran across campus at a breakneck pace would never like them back.

Alhaitham walked towards (Name) while keeping a comfortable distance between them. “We were, but I learned something important from Kaveh and I needed to talk to you—”

(Name) couldn’t let him continue his sentence without feeling like their heart was going to explode. “Oh, God— did Kaveh tell you..?” All this trouble to try and avoid him and their feelings get spilled anyway; how miserable! (Name) waved their hand frantically and forced a smile onto their lips. “Listen, don’t worry about that! It’s just a stupid crush. I know that you don’t like me back... and that’s okay! I promise, it’s okay!”

Hopefully Alhaitham would believe their words because the quiver in their voice pointed to the idea that it was, in fact, not okay. Did Alhaitham run all the down here just to tell them this? Sometimes he could come off a bit rude, but that would be pretty cruel.

They waited to hear something heartbreaking; ’I’m sorry,’ Alhaitham might say. But, instead of anything terrible, (Name)’s vision was flooded with vibrant colors as Alhaitham held out a bouquet of flowers that were previously hidden behind his back. A variety of carnations and daisies tied neatly together with a red ribbon. Some of the flowers slumped with fallen petals as a result of his race across campus. Deja vu.

“Kaveh did tell you that I had no time for a relationship, yes.” Alhaitham’s voice was surprisingly gentle. (Name) peeked around the flowers and noticed Alhaitham was blushing. It was faint and barely visible in the pink hued sunset, but unmistakable. “I was sure about that, until I realized how much I missed your company this week.”

He looked into (Name)’s eyes with an intensity that left them captured in his gaze. Was this real? Their feelings being reciprocated? This had to be some sort of sick joke. But the sincerity in Alhaitham’s voice accompanied by the delicate bouquet of flowers was reality, and (Name) couldn’t believe it.

For all the daydreams (Name) had about Alhaitham as a partner, they always struggled to imagine him being romantic. They were sure he was capable of it, but they had never seen that side of him so they couldn’t be sure. But Alhaitham stepped forward, grasping (Name)’s hand in his. He brushed his thumb over the back of their palm and (Name) was pretty sure they stopped breathing. “I’m trying to say that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings, to be clear.”

(Name) wasn’t sure how a relatively clunky confession brought them to tears, but it did, and pulled Alhaitham into a hug. They felt him stiffen and move the flowers out of the way to save them from being crushed, but after a moment he wrapped his free arm around their torso to reciprocate. The hug was warm and Alhaitham held them tight in a way that felt secure.

“... This means you accept, right?”

They laughed against his chest. “Of course it does! You need to study more about relationships, geez.”

Alhaitham smiled, “I hope you can teach me.”

— BONUS

From around the corner, their friends tried to get a good view of the confession scene. If they weren’t going to see a movie that night, they could at least watch this.

“He gave them the bouquet,” Cyno exclaimed before being pushed out of the way by Tighnari.

“See! Flowers were a good idea. He better thank Collei later for making a bouquet on such short notice.” Looking all too pleased with himself, Tighnari watched the two in the distance intently, while fighting Cyno from moving him out of the way.

Kaveh shoved both Cyno and Tighnari out of the way. “They’re hugging! See, it all worked out! I’m a pretty good wingman after all!”

The three didn’t last long watching the scene until Alhaitham and (Name) noticed them. They called them creepy.

masterlists.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Carmen

| "...the boys, the girls, they all like carmen, she gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes. she laughs like god, her mind's like a diamond...baby's all dressed up with nowhere to go, that's the little story of the girl you know. relying on the kindness of strangers, tying cherry knots, smiling, doing party favors..." |

| this drabble contains sexual content ;) | the 2nd edition to the 'Born to Die' series |

As Soarynn Nightingale climbs the steps of Clemensia Dovecote's apartment building, she sometimes forgets that some people don't live in townhouses, that some people are crammed into giant buildings with hundreds of other families.

What a terrible way to live.

Soarynn is more than used to living a life of luxury, the life she deserves if she's being honest. Her father has seen to it that she's always been taken care of, in school, in public, and even in private.

She's a Nightingale, and she'll be treated as such.

Soarynn can only think of one other person who shares a similar mindset to hers when it comes to carrying the family name. This other person, however, is the most arrogant, cocky, and annoying person she has ever met in her entire life.

And she's known him since she was five.

Coriolanus Snow.

Hopefully, he's not at this party. Clemmie said it would be small, intimate, and exclusive. Soarynn was obviously invited, top of the list like always. She's never missed a social event and can't wait to graduate from the Academy so she can attend University parties.

She's greeted by the doorman, who is more than used to seeing her face. Soarynn has been in and out of this building hundreds of times since she and Clemensia became steadfast friends when they were little. Clemensia lives on the Corso with all the other important Capitol families.

Soarynn and her father are the only people in the elite circles of the Capitol who don't live on the Corso, choosing to live in a more private residential area on Cornelia Street instead. She's heard it countless times from classmates and friends, how lucky she is to have a whole house to live in rather than an apartment.

The only other person that comes to mind when she thinks about living in a house is the President. She's not mad about that comparison at all.

Soarynn makes her way into the elevator, pushing the button to take her to the fifth floor. Clemmie doesn't live in the penthouse, unfortunately. When the doors open up, Soarynn is standing tall, demanding to be respected. She walks out into the hallway, ten apartments are on each floor, and Clemmie lives at the end of the hall.

One person waits outside the Dovecote's door, desperate to get inside. She spots her friend standing outside, caught up in an argument from the looks of it. "...for the last time, Sejanus, you're not invited!"

Soarynn rolls her eyes at the pitiful thought of Sejanus Plinth trying to get into a party like this. Sure enough, he's crowding the door, trying to peer inside at the fun. "What's the problem?" Soarynn asks sweetly, looking up at Sejanus, who sprouted up like a beanstalk during their sophomore year.

Sejanus looks down at her with solemn eyes. Sometimes she feels bad for the kid, forced to move here when he was young so his father could pursue his business from the Capitol side of the border rather than the District side.

He's always been an outsider, and although Soarynn does her best to maintain her sweet persona, she's never gone out of her way to make Sejanus feel included.

He's not one of them, simple as that.

Sejanus goes to explain, but Clemensia holds her hand up, silencing him. "Sejanus here thinks he was invited, but I know I didn't send him an invitation," Clemensia snaps, glaring daggers at the boy.

He slouches, "You won't even know I'm here, Clemmie," he insists, causing Clemensia's face to twist in disgust. "Don't call me that," she says, grabbing Soarynn's arm, pulling her inside, "and don't come to my parties! I don't mingle with District."

Soarynn offers Sejanus a sympathetic look even though she's with Clemmie on this one, he doesn't belong in the Capitol and certainly not in their party. "Maybe next time, Sejanus," Soarynn lies, batting her lashes up at him, "I promise you're not missing anything." Another lie, but who's counting?

Clemensia doesn't give him a single second to say anything else, slamming the door in his face and scoffing, "The nerve of him, showing up to my residence like some creep!" She tosses her sleek ponytail over her shoulder, and Soarynn nods in agreement. "It's honestly sad to watch," she muses, looking around the entryway. "I don't even know how he found out about this."

Clemensia guides her down the hall, the noise of the party grows louder and louder. "Who knows how he found out, I still don't know how he and his family slithered their way into the Capitol. That whole family is one big mystery."

Soarynn, already tired of talking about Sejanus, chooses to change the subject. "Did you get your nails done?" Clemmie visibly brightens at the question, holding her hand out for Soarynn to see. "I did! They look like little snake scales, see?"

Soarynn would never say it out loud, but she thinks the designs Clemensia gets on her nails are so heinous. They're always so trendy, not classy at all. She'll never find a husband with those nails. They're also so sharp, whereas Soarynn's are short and always painted a light shade of pink, the same as her toenails.

"So cute," Soarynn gushes, leaning into her friend, she might have shitty taste in nail designs, but she's one of her best friends. "Who's here? I assumed the usual guest list?"

Clemensia is known for her parties, everyone wants an invite, but she only invites people in their inner circles, the richest, the people who will decide the future of Panem one day.

"Oh, the usual, you, Livia, Persephone, Urban, Felix..." Clemensia goes on and on while Soarynn peers around the corner into the living room, where everyone is already mingling. The girls are sporting short dresses, too short to wear in public without being ridiculed but perfect for private things like this. The boys are more relaxed as well, in button-up shirts and pants, no need for a suit or uniform.

Soarynn's dress is absolutely perfect for tonight, black and tight with a very low back. It'll be sure to drive the boys wild tonight which is her favorite thing about these parties, showing people what they can't have, girls and boys alike.

They all like Soarynn.

"...and Coriolanus."

Soarynn's eye twitches upon hearing that cursed name. She was hoping he wouldn't be invited, and if he was, then she hoped he wouldn't come. Of course, he's here.

"Oh, he's here?" She asks casually, craning her neck to see if she can spot his tall blonde head amongst the crowd. "Mhm, I know you don't really like him, but Persephone wanted me to invite Festus, so obviously, I had to invite Coriolanus." Soarynn nods, she gets it, public image is everything, and not even Clemensia Dovecote is immune to the power someone like Coriolanus Snow has in their circles.

It's best to be on his good side.

Unless you're Soarynn Nightingale and don't care what he thinks.

He hates that about her which only inspires her to keep it up.

"It's fine," she sighs, checking her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. "It's for Persephone." Their good friend Persephone Price is madly in love with Festus Creed, an unfortunate choice in Soarynn's opinion. Festus isn't ugly, but he's not her first choice, not by a long shot. Persephone says he's sweet and makes her laugh.

Since when was that important?

Soarynn is well aware of what's actually important. She needs to find someone rich, someone important, someone who will provide for her, someone ambitious.

Someone like Coriolanus Snow.

It pains her to admit it, but he's the smartest boy in their grade; he's aggressive and competitive, always saying "Snow lands on top" whenever he wins something. It's so stupid, but in a way, she admires his grit.

If only he weren't some upright asshole who thinks he's above everyone else.

Soarynn likes to think she was put on this earth to humble him, put him in check.

She'll be sure to step on his toes tonight, just for the fun of it.

Soarynn takes a deep breath before plunging into the deep end of the social pool, walking into the living room where several pairs of eyes land on her. Felix lets out a low whistle, he has no shot with her, but because his father is the President, she remains so very sweet when talking to him.

"Wow Soarynn," he says, rising from the sofa, "you clean up nice." Soarynn tries a soft giggle, leaning in so he can kiss her cheek, a friendly greeting for the elite Capitolites. She looks over Felix's shoulder and sees that Coriolanus is watching their entire interaction, callous as always.

"Well, I knew I'd be in the presence of greatness," she playfully jokes, earning her a few laughs. Felix is only important because his father is important. Soarynn needs to marry someone who's always important, despite their father's position in the world.

"Oh, Soarynn, you're here!" Persephone says, teetering into the living room with two drinks, one in each hand. Festus follows behind her. Soarynn wonders what they were doing before she got here. Nothing good, from the looks of his smug face.

"I am," she agrees, hugging her friend, "and your hair looks fabulous."

The girls exchange kisses and quick gossip about Sejanus Plinth, who was pathetically trying to gain entry to their exclusive party. "He was here?" Persephone asks with a hushed tone, her eyes flitting to the boys on the sofa, "I can't believe he even came! I mean, did he really think we'd let him in?" Her last words are caught by Festus, who has never had an issue butting into other people's conversations.

"Who tried to get in?"

All three girls go quiet, none of them feeling that this is newsworthy information. Finally, Clemensia crumbles, "Sejanus Plinth," she sighs as if remembering the whole exhausting ordeal, "showed up at the door, practically begging to be let in."

Coriolanus adopts a more guarded expression, he's made it very clear that he doesn't like Sejanus. Soarynn remembers watching Sejanus limp out of the boy's locker room one time, with Coriolanus right behind him, a smug grin on his face. They were both questioned at the Dean's office, but Coriolanus got off scot-free. Apparently, his father, Crassus Snow, threatened to pull out all his donations to the school if they tried to punish his son.

Coriolanus gets away with murder so long as his father is there to back him up. Soarynn doesn't mind Mrs. Snow half as much as she minds her son. Mrs. Snow always welcomed her with open arms, whispering about how she'd be perfect for her sweet little Coriolanus. The woman is obviously blind to how her son really acts, but Soarynn won't be the one to pull the wool off her eyes.

Crassus has always remained indifferent towards Soarynn whenever they've crossed paths, but she knows why.

She looks just like her mother.

Father told her about it one night. Soarynn had gone with him to a gala, and they ran into the Snows. She had been around sixteen at the time and hated Coriolanus as much as she does now. Some things never change. They greeted each other and exchanged polite grievances, but Crassus seemed to be on one that night; too much champagne is what his wife wrote it off as.

He kept staring at Soarynn, to the point where she began to wonder if there was something on her face. His son was also staring at her, but that was nothing new. Coriolanus has never shied away from blatantly staring at people he either likes or hates.

Soarynn falls into the second category.

She asked her father about Crassus Snow's strange behavior once they got home, and he told her all about how Crassus Snow was madly in love with her mother when they were all younger.

"He was smitten with her," he explained, "besotted, couldn't go a day without seeing her. But your mother didn't return his feelings, she didn't long for a life with a Snow."

That confused Soarynn. The Snows were the richest family in Panem, her family was right under them, and the rest followed. Why wouldn't her mother take advantage of such a great opportunity?

"She didn't wish for a life of fake plesantries; she wanted more freedom and less societal pressure. I'm sure she would've run off with some District bloke if it wouldn't have lead to public shaming," her father mused. "Marrying Crassus meant conforming to his idea of perfection. Always having to meet his standards. It's not easy to be the wife of a Snow."

Having never met her mother, Soarynn only knew about her from stories and everyone telling her about how identical she looked to her. Soarynn has seen enough pictures to confirm this popular belief. She is Cera Nightingale's twin. No wonder Crassus can only stand to be around her for so long.

"I never thought I had a chance with your mother," father admitted. "I felt she was far too perfect for me, but I made her happy, made her laugh, let her do what she wanted to do. In the end, she chose me over Crassus. It caused quite a rift in my relationship with him. It's only been repaired in the past ten years, and we have you children to thank for that."

Soarynn had never been so confused in her life. What did she and Coriolanus have to do with their father's relationships? Nothing, nothing at all...unless...they thought there was a chance they'd get married and mend the rift.

Marrying Coriolanus Snow, ugh.

"Your mother wanted a little girl more than anything, she was so excited for you to come. We both were. You're the greatest gift she ever gave me, honey."

Soarynn knew as well as anybody that her mother died giving birth to her. She was able to imagine what her father went through, but that new information led her to wonder what Crassus went through. Watching the woman you once loved succumb to death while birthing the daughter who could have been yours. Coriolanus had been born months before she was, leading their parents to believe it was fate.

Or just bad timing.

Either way, it couldn't have been easy for Crassus Snow. And now, instead of forgetting the woman he once loved, he gets to see her daughter all the time. At least she's not in love with his son, that would be awkward. Soarynn can't stand Coriolanus, so cocky, so stuckup.

"Fucking Plinth," he seethes from the sofa, gripping his glass of posca, "I'm telling you, they think they're one of us. Just because you bought your way into the Capitol doesn't mean you belong here." Everyone nods in agreement, even Soarynn. He's right, Sejanus does not belong here.

"Next time, let me know," Festus says cooly. "I'll take care of it."

Soarynn snorts, ignoring the look she gets from Persephone. "Sure Festus, just like you took care of Titus the last time you two got in a fight." Festus immediately turns red when she reminds him of the very recent fight he got into with Titus Fenton. Titus is all muscle and no brains, he's an idiot, to put it plainly.

Soarynn knows how much Persephone likes Festus, and that's all fine and dandy, but it doesn't mean that she has to like Festus. He's best friends with Coriolanus which is dangerous territory for her.

"Well, what have you been up to this summer, Soarynn? Keeping busy with your gentleman callers?" Festus is playing with fire by trying to embarrass her. Soarynn gives him a smile all too sweet to be true and Coriolanus chuckles, bracing for the worst to be bestowed onto his friend.

"Oh, I've been keeping busy alright, Festus darling," she purrs back, "I've been helping out at the school, and I came across the most interesting file the other day. It had your name on it and said something about you almost failing last year's classes? Perhaps I misread the words."

Felix lets out another low whistle, and Coriolanus covers up his laugh with a cough. Festus is furious, it serves him right, too, trying to play with Soarynn Nightingale.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Soarynn," he replies, though not with the same amount of confidence he had moments before she delivered the deadly blow.

Soarynn hums, she makes it her business to know other people's business. It's easier to use it against them that way, to stay on top. "Then why don't you stay out of my business?" Festus lowers his gaze, no longer challenging her. "Fine."

She clasps her hands, wearing a pleased grin now that she's won this fight. "Good! Now, what's everyone doing for their last week of summer?"

꧁ ꧂

They're about an hour into the party when Persephone whispers in Soarynn's ear. "Did you really have to light into Festus like that? He was only teasing Soarynn." Perspehone has been blinded by love, it's painfully obvious to Soarynn, who doesn't have time for such frivolous things.

"The boy's an idiot, Persephone," she whispers back, glancing across the coffee table where Festus is spread out on the sofa, currently in a conversation with Clemmie and Coriolanus. "He nearly failed physical education! Do you know how hard it is to fail the easiest class the school offers?"

Her best friend scoffs, too blinded to see the truth. "He just gets stressed," she explains, taking a sip of her drink, "he's got a lot of pressure on his shoulders right now."

Soarynn doesn't buy that for a second. "Like what? Because he looks very relaxed right now."

"Once he graduates from the University, he'll have to make a name for himself, he has to carry the Creed lineage. This is very stressful stuff, Soarynn."

If Soarynn had to place bets on which boy has the most pressure on him, she'd bet on Coriolanus Snow. If he's anything like his father, he'll want the best and only the best for himself and his family. Festus doesn't come close to touching Coriolanus Snow.

Soarynn slyly looks over at where Coriolanus is sitting, his legs spread, taking up so much room. His fingers are wrapped around his glass of posca, his shirt is unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up. She sees that his curls are a bit unruly tonight, broken free from any product he puts in them.

It's very unfair how good he looks right now.

She's so focused on looking at him that she doesn't notice him looking at her. Not until Persephone nudges her and Soarynn looks directly into his piercing blue eyes. He looks smug to have caught her staring, and Soarynn scrowls, standing up, "I'm going to get another drink, want anything?"

Persephone looks longingly at Festus, "I'm fine for now, Festus will get me something if I get thirsty." Soarynn stops her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. If she ever gets to be like this because of a boy, she'll have Clemensia push her into oncoming traffic.

Ignoring his penetrating stare, Soarynn makes her way into the kitchen, glad to let her guard down for a few minutes. In a world where one is always trying to beat the other, it's imperative to always keep your guard up and remain sharp and tactile.

She helps herself to some punch that's gone untouched, most of her peers preferring alcohol as they get older. Soarynn glances around the kitchen, the Dovecotes have an impressive apartment despite it not being a penthouse. Mrs. Dovecote has kept it lavishly decorated over the years, never going too overboard with the small details.

There are two types of wealth in the Capitol: new money and old money.

Sejanus Plinth and his breed are the perfect example of new money. Their wealth dates back to two decades ago when Strabo Plinth started making a little bit of money.

Should his business run dry, he'll have nothing to fall back on.

Soarynn and her family are the perfect example of old money. Their wealth dates back several generations to when one of her distant relatives made his fortune and passed it along to his children while setting some aside.

Should her father's business run dry, they'll have something to fall back on.

There are other ways to decipher the two, such as furniture for example. Old money has dated pieces passed down from generation to generation. New money buys from catalogs. Old money has family heirlooms such as jewelry or paintings. New money goes to a gallery or jewelry store for something new.

Some might argue that money is money, but they're probably either poor or come from new money.

Soarynn and her friends are well aware of the differences and see themselves and their families above those who have just come into their fortunes.

Soarynn drums her fingers against the marble countertrops; she can't believe that her last year of attending the Academy is so soon. She still has one big summer event before the school doors open up for her one last time. The horse races. Her father usually prefers to stay home but she managed to convince him to go this time, and she can't wait to place bets.

Soarynn is all for being traditional, but she has no issue stepping into the male-dominated space every once in a while, especially to prove them wrong.

She's so focused on what she's going to wear to the races that she doesn't even notice Coriolanus sneaking up on her. "Lost in thought?" Soarynn snaps out of her daze, glaring storms at him without a second thought. He stands on the other side of the counter, an amused look on his annoyingly handsome face.

It's even worse because he knows he's good-looking.

"Yes I am," she answers haughtily, "but you wouldn't know much about that would you? You don't tend to think much when it comes to anything."

His jaw ticks, she's got him right where she wants him.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he announces loudly, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear him.

Soarynn watches him stalk down the hallway, already pissed off and she hasn't even gotten started yet. She waits one beat, two beats, three beats. She finishes off her punch and goes down the same hallway, glad she's familiar with the layout of this apartment.

Soarynn can see the bathroom light through the door. She looks over her shoulder to confirm that no one's followed her before knocking once, then twice, then once again. The door opens and she's looking up at Coriolanus Snow, the boy she hates and also fucks from time to time.

"You really should be taught some manners," he hisses, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her inside. He slams the door shut, locking it so no one can find them scandalously entangled like this. Soarynn stares up at him defiantly. Some people might be scared of Coriolanus Snow, but she's not.

He's just a boy.

She's seen him at his most vulnerable moments, buried balls deep inside her cunt, whimpering like a dog in heat. "Maybe you need to learn to pick better friends," she snaps back, not batting an eye when his hand comes up to grab her by the jaw.

Coriolanus is notoriously rough in bed, so rough that most girls have only slept with him once. But Soarynn likes it rough, that's what makes her so special. She doesn't mind being thrown around or manhandled. It turns her on, which turns him on.

It's a win-win situation.

Soarynn first discovered his sexual fantasies and desires one day in a storage closet at school. He had dragged her in there to have a private argument, which led to his lips on her lips, and their clothes quickly made their way to the floor. Ever since that fateful day, they've been having these secret little meetings, getting their stress out, and then going their separate ways.

It's made it a little more diffcult to act like she hates him so much, which she does, but she also loves his fingers inside of her, the curve of his cock, how big his hands are, how good of a kisser he is.

He's like this poison that she can't help but take, only for the three minutes of bliss she feels before she slowly starts to whither away.

"Maybe you need to learn how to keep your mouth shut," he fires back, looming over her. And he's tall, so, so tall, even when she's in heels, he's taller than her.

"Why don't you make me?"

That's all he needs to hear to press his lips to hers in a fiery kiss fueled with lust and held-back frustration. Soarynn hadn't planned on him being here tonight, but she still came prepared with her lacy black thong that he'll be sure to love.

Soarynn whimpers into the kiss when his hand slides down to her throat, applying enough pressure to make her dizzy with desire. His other hand comes to rest on her bareback, slipping under the fabric of her tight dress.

"Baby's all dressed up with nowhere to go, huh?" He teases, squeezing her waist, "Thought you'd get some attention wearing this? Thought some Capitol boy would come sweep you off your feet at this party?"

That's probably the thing she likes most about Coriolanus, he doesn't try to act all good and noble when they're having sex. He's his authentic self: degrading, rude, and arrogant. Neither of them has to pretend to be someone they're not for the other person.

It's all out in the open.

"I did," she says in between kisses, "unfortunately, you showed up instead, so I had to settle." He lets out a throaty chuckle, they're too evenly matched when it comes to their words and hatred for one another.

Soarynn can't believe people think they should get married.

He lets go of her throat and grabs her waist with both hands, lifting her up as if she weighs nothing. Soarynn gasps in surprise, only relaxing when she feels him set her down on the bathroom counter. Now, they're a little more even when it comes to height. Soarynn wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him back down to her so she can get in a few more kisses.

While he kisses her, his hand slides between her thighs, headed to her most sensitive area.

Many things can be said for Coriolanus Snow, but he is a very good lover. He's gone down on her more times than she can count, not even expecting her to return the favor. He's the most dangerous type of man in her opinion, the man who enjoys eating cunt for the fun of it, out of sheer enjoyment.

He eats her out like he's fucking starving.

Soarynn rolls her hips the second his fingers brush against her clit, barely covered by her panties. Coriolanus has teased her about the lingerie she wears one too many times. He says they barely cover anything. She says that's the whole fucking point.

It doesn't help that he likes to break things, including her bralettes when he can't get the hooks undone. One time, he did it at school, and she chewed him out about it for a good five minutes while he tried not to laugh.

Thankfully, she's not wearing a bralette today.

"So wet for me," he teases, biting her bottom lip with his teeth, "just sitting across from me gets you off, huh?"

Soarynn tries to scoff but it turns into a whine when he pushes her panties aside to rub her clit, elicting the most wonderful sensations. Most boys his age don't even know what the clit is so he's a mircale in that regard.

"No," she gasps, arching her body into his, "but arguing with your friends does. Maybe I'll let one of them finally taste me before the summer's over."

His change in demeanor is remarkable. He goes from cocky to pissed off in a matter of seconds. His lips latch onto her neck despite her very clear instructions to leave no marks when they have these little rendezvous. They must come back the same way they left.

Soarynn moans when she feels a finger slip inside of her. It's been a few weeks since she saw Coriolanus and that was at a charity auction. They snuck off to a dark corner where she gave him a blowjob and he returned the favor by making her cum in less than five minutes with his nose.

His nose!

He says she tastes good, smells good too.

Soarynn doesn't know how to feel about that.

"You won't let anyone taste you," he growls, sucking on the tender skin of her neck, "we're exclusive, remember?"

In the midst of the pleasure, Soarynn finds enough strength to roll her eyes at his possessiveness. After the first time they had sex, Coriolanus had proposed an arrangement to continue to secretly meet in exchange for mind-blowing sex.

They've never done it at their respective homes, too risky since they aren't officially courting. But he was very insistent on them remaining exclusive, loyal to each other. Soarynn saw it as greed and insecurity, whereas he claimed it was for the sake of their sexual hygiene.

Soarynn thinks that if it smells like shit, it probably is shit.

"How could I forget?" She taunts, reaching down to palm him through his pants, "You'd rather kill yourself than share me."

Coriolanus gives her neck one last suck and pulls away, breathless and his curls are tussled. "Correction, I don't want to share your cunt, not you, darling." The petname goes straight to her core, he called her that once and got a visceral reaction from it. He's used it on her ever since. It's both coddling and condescending.

He presses a row of kisses to her jaw, "You can throw yourself to the dogs anytime you want, Soarynn, but we both know you'll just come crawling back to me when you're done."

Angered beyond belief, Soarynn takes a firm grip of his hardened cock, making him groan. "You're a dog too, Coriolanus, the only difference between you and them is that I have you on a leash."

There, now they're even.

He's mad, she's mad. There's only one solution to this.

"Turn around and bend over."

Soarynn does what he says, not because she listens to him, but because they have a very limited amount of time before someone comes looking for them. Soarynn arches her back, pressing her ass against his crotch, smirking when he lands a slap to her ass. Coriolanus pushes her dress over the curves of her back, swearing under his breath when he sees the panties she wore tonight.

"It might make you less of a whore if you started wearing less provacative panties."

Soarynn smiles at him from over her shoulder, "What makes you think I want to stop being a whore?"

They have such a way with words.

Coriolanus merely glares at her while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Soarynn rests her hands on the sink, preparing for a good fuck, a hard fuck. She feels the tip of his cock pushing at her entrance, it slides in seamlessly and they both moan at the feeling.

Coriolanus buries himself to the hilt before pulling back out so he can slam back into her. Soarynn has to clench her teeth so she doesn't moan too loudly. Coriolanus is relentless with his thrusts, hitting her sweet spot every single time with amazing accuracy.

"You're only a whore for me though," he grunts, slapping her ass again, "only fall apart on my cock, my fingers, my tongue. No one else can make you feel this way."

He's right, no one on earth could piss her off as much as he does.

Soarynn tries to come up with something snarky to say, but her mind is clouded with lust and pleasure. He seems to pick up on that and brings a hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit in tight circles. Soarynn cries out, and her legs begin to shake.

She's already getting close to her orgasm which is going to be a new record for them at the rate he's fucking her.

She's so, so close when she hears footsteps getting so, so close to the bathroom door.

"Soarynn? Are you in here?"

Both their eyes go wide, and Soarynn quickly turns on the sink. "I am," she calls, reaching behind her to grab Coriolanus, he's still fucking her and it's going to blow their cover.

"Have you seen Coriolanus?"

Soarynn wishes Clemmie would buzz off, but she's a good hostess who, unfortunately, cares very much about her guests. Coriolanus leans forward, brushing his nose against the shell of her ear, "Lie for me baby, be my good girl and lie for me."

Soarynn whimpers, she can feel something dripping down her leg, and it's not water from the sink.

"I...I, I think he went outside," she croaks, her eyes fluttering from his fingers on her clit.

"Oh, alright, let him know we're looking for him if you find him first," Clemmie calls. Soarynn nods even though her friend can't see her, listening to her receding footsteps.

Coriolanus doesn't miss a beat and starts pounding into her even harder than before, taunting her. "Such a fucking slut, lying to your friend. What would she say if she found you split open on my cock Soarynn? Would she call you a whore? Would she be jealous? Would she go tell everyone that little Soarynn Nightingale likes it hard and fast?"

"Fuck...you," she gets out, going limp when her orgasm finally washes over her. Coriolanus holds her up, riding through her orgasm so he can reach his own. Soarynn is more and more grateful for her implant each and every time they do this.

Coriolanus loves to finish inside of her.

They're both panting, sweaty messes in the Dovecote's bathroom. Neither of them says anything, sometimes they leave without saying a word. There's nothing to say.

He finally breaks the silence, tracing a finger down her spine. "I like this dress," he mumbles. Soarynn looks at him through the mirror's reflection. Sometimes, he actually looks sweet, like someone she'd want to court.

Then he says something mean and ruins the whole fantasy.

"I wanted to look nice," she says, straightening up, "presentation is everything, as you know."

He nods, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Every time they do this, she wonders if it'll be the last, if one day she'll see him with a girl and know that it's over. Whatever is between them is over.

She'll have to leave first, she decides. In a world like this, you either leave or get left behind.

"Well, this was fun. You should head out first since they're looking for you," she throws out, hoping he'll catch her hint to get the fuck out. He does, thank goodness. She sighs when he pulls out, suddenly feeling so empty, and it's not because he isn't inside her anymore.

Coriolanus quickly cleans himself up, handing her a wad of toilet paper to make due with as well. Soarynn takes it and wipes between her legs, at least her panties are still intact. She's about to pull them up when he gets down on his knees, causing her to stop.

"What're you doing?"

He shakes his head, a grin now on his lips. "Just trust me," he says, sliding her panties down her smooth legs. Soarynn doesn't know why she listens, but she does. He slides them down to her ankles, and Soarynn carefully lifts one foot and then the other so he can take them completely off.

Coriolanus holds her panties in his hands while she waits with baited breath, no clue as to what he plans to do with them. He rises back up to his full height, and that bastard stuffs them into his pocket!

Soarynn gasps, punching him in the chest, "Give those back!"

Coriolanus laughs, holding his hands up in surrender, "You gave them to me. It's like a souvenir, something that says: 'I visited Soarynn Nightingale's cunt and lived to tell the tale.'"

She's going to kill him.

If she wasn't mad before, she's furious now.

"Give. Them. Back."

"No."

Coriolanus unlocks the doors and opens it, fresh air is gladly welcomed into the confined space. "I'll give them back," he says, flashing her that infamous grin, "eventually."

He leaves before she can say or do anything else, left to deal with the mess he's made. Soarynn scowls, slamming the door shut so she can finish wiping up. The nerve of him! That asshole!

She'll get even.

She always does.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn finds herself sitting across from Coriolanus again, the only difference is that she's missing her panties.

He looks so proud of himself, smirking while halfheartedly listening to the conversation taking place in front of them. It seems that Festus and Persephone got into a fight while they were fucking and it's still not over.

With everyone's attention on those two, Soarynn decides to lean back into the sofa, spreading her legs the same way Coriolanus does to take up as much space as possible. He glances at her once and then does a double take when he realizes that her cunt is on full display.

Soarynn tilts her head all innocent-like, pretending nothing is wrong with this picture. It's so satisfying to see how angry he gets, how he grabs a throw pillow so tightly, how his face gets red and his cock begins to harden all over again.

'Close your legs,' he mouths to her.

Soarynn pretends not to see him. If he wants to steal her panties then that's fine but if he wants to call her a whore, then two can play at that game. She'll gladly be the girl who keeps her legs spread for all to see.

He clears his throat in an effort to get her attention, but she ignores him entirely. In a final attempt, he launches the pillow at her, catching everyone off guard. Soarynn shuts her legs and glares at him, "What the hell was that for?"

They get quite a few looks from their friends who are well aware of their rivalry but unaware of what lies beneath it. To them, this is normal, everyday behavior for Coriolanus and Soarynn.

He shrugs, pleased to have gotten his way, "Just felt like it."

Soarynn nods, setting the pillow down next to her. She slowly leans forward, grabbing her fresh glass of punch, "Well, since we're doing things we feel like doing, have some punch, Coriolanus." She jerks her arm forward, splashing the punch at him with precise aim.

Not a drop lands on the furniture or the floor.

Just on Coriolanus.

All the girls gasp, and the boys cover their mouths with their hands. No one makes a move. Coriolanus uses his hand to wipe the red punch off his face, looking down at his stained outfit in disbelief.

"You fuckin-" He's cut off by Festus who sharply elbows him. Soarynn is sure they talk about sex in private, but they're in the presence of ladies right now.

Although Soarynn is no lady.

The tension is broken by the front door being opened and the Dovecotes walking into a soaking wet Coriolanus Snow. "Coriolanus dear," Mrs. Dovecote gasps, "what on earth happened to you?"

He wipes some more punch off his face, "I spilled."

Soarynn smirks, he'd rather lie than tell the truth and be more embarrassed than he already is. Public image is everything, after all.

"Did you get any on the sofa?"

"No, Mrs. Dovecote."

The older woman lets out a sigh of relief, "Oh, thank goodness. We just got the sofas cleaned. And Clemensia, darling, make sure your friends use the coasters for their drinks. Your grandfather paid good money for that coffee table."

Mrs. Dovecote casts Coriolanus one more curious glance before heading to her bedroom, leaving the children to sort out their differences. "You're so wet," Soarynn observes, remembering how he said those words to her in a very different setting, "maybe you should dry off Coriolanus."

He abruptly stands up, and if looks could kill, she'd be dead.

"It was lovely seeing you all tonight," he spits out, casting her one last glare before stomping to the hallway. When they hear the front door close, Livia lets out a laugh, "I can't believe you did that, Soarynn! He's going to kill you!"

Soarynn shrugs, if anything, the sex will be great the next time they see each other. "He had it coming," is all she says.

She can already hear Coriolanus venting about this to his father and then to his friends, complaining about her. "Only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean."

He'll get over it.

With things like this, you either get over it or under it, and Soarynn knows Coriolanus will choose to get over it.

It's etiher that or stay at the bottom.

And as he likes to say, Snow lands on top.

| 'Born to Die' |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{Companion: 'This Is What Makes Us Girls'}

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames |

[dioslesbianwife]

haiiii :3! Could we get the jofoes with an s/o who’s always sick/in and out of the hospital due to their chronic illness ^_^?

also I’m so curious, who’s ur fav jofoe!!!

my fav jofoe is 100% wamuu, i love him so much he’s one of my fav anime characters of all time. second is dio, third doppio. anywho yess, hope u enjoy and ty for asking and requesting!

Dio

Infuriated. Not at you, never at you- but at the unfairness of it all. In his mind, someone he loves should never have to suffer.

If you’re in pain, he’s agitated, pacing around, snapping at people, refusing to accept that he can’t just will you better.

“You are mine. And I do not allow what’s mine to break.”

Offers (well, demands) to turn you into a vampire so you’ll never have to feel weak again. If you refuse? He won’t force you... but he will keep asking.

Sends his servants to bring you anything you could possibly want, making sure you’re always comfortable.

Kars

As an immortal being, he can’t comprehend how humans accept their fragility.

But you? You’re different. You fight, you endure. He respects that.

“Your body is flawed, yet you refuse to submit. I admire that.”

The first time he sees you in a hospital bed, something unsettles him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling- concern, maybe?

He starts studying medicine himself. If humans can’t cure you, then he will.

He’s gentle with you in his own way. If you’re tired, he carries you without a second thought. If you’re in pain, he’s unnervingly still, observing, thinking, planning.

If it ever gets too bad? He will consider using the Stone Mask on you.

Esidisi

Surprisingly patient with you. He doesn’t mock human fragility the way Kars does- he’s more understanding.

At first, he’s worried but doesn’t know how to express it properly. He hovers, offering warmth when you’re cold, making sure you’re eating properly.

Very protective. If doctors or nurses are incompetent, he gets angry but he tries to hold back for your sake.

If you’re ever in pain, he hates it. He wishes he could just take it from you.

If you ever try to downplay your condition, he sees right through you. "Lying to me is useless. Tell me what you need."

Wamuu

He sees your condition as a battle- one that you’re constantly fighting, and he respects that deeply.

If you’re too weak to do something, he assists you without hesitation. He never makes you feel like a burden.

Always asks “Are you in pain?” in the softest voice.

He stays with you as much as possible, keeping watch over you like a loyal guardian.

If you ever get frustrated or upset about your illness, he listens patiently. “Your struggles do not make you weak.”

Diavolo

He hates hospitals, hates seeing you like this. It makes him feel helpless, something he despises.

Gets snappy and irritable with doctors, even if they’re just doing their job. No one ever seems good enough to treat you.

He disappears sometimes when things get too overwhelming, but he always comes back.

Doesn’t talk about his feelings, but you catch him watching you when he thinks you’re asleep.

If you ever get too sick, he seriously considers using King Crimson to erase moments of your suffering.

Doppio

Overly worried but tries to stay strong for you. He’s constantly asking if you need anything.

Holds your hand a lot, as if making sure you’re still there.

Talks to the "boss" about your health, sometimes hoping for advice, sometimes just to vent.

Fusses over you. “Are you too hot? Too cold? Do you want me to get you anything?”

If you’re in the hospital, he visits every day and brings you little gifts, flowers, snacks, anything to brighten your day.

Funny Valentine

Uses his power to pull doctors, medicine, even entire specialists from other universes to find something that will help.

He refuses to let fate win. If you’re sick, then he will tip the scales in your favor.

When he’s with you, though, he’s incredibly gentle. He strokes your hair, kisses your forehead, and whispers reassurances.

“You will get through this. I swear it.” His determination is unwavering.

If he ever sees a version of you in another world that’s healthy, he considers swapping them with you but ultimately, he loves you, not an alternate version of you.

Diego Brando

Frustrated beyond belief. You being sick is something out of his control, and he hates that.

At first, he’s emotionally distant about it. He doesn’t know how to handle seeing you like that.

But eventually, he steps up. He makes sure you’re getting the best treatment, even if he has to pay for it himself.

Stubbornly stays by your side, even if he pretends it’s no big deal.

“Don’t get used to this.” But his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

Tooru

At first, he acts unbothered, brushing it off with a casual smile. “Ahh, you’re always in the hospital? Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of eachother.” He works at one anyway.

But if anyone even dares to look down on you for it? Suddenly, calamity seems to strike them.

Always plays things off, never showing his concern too obviously. Instead, he makes subtle adjustments to make things easier for you.

When you’re in pain, he distracts you with his smooth voice, rambling about nonsense just to keep your mind off of it.

He will want to use the Rokakaka or Locacaca on you.

[torchstelechos]

sometimes i think about the scene where Siffrin has a momentary breakdown over the Universe watching and clapping and not doing anything to help, to lead, and i wonder about an interpretation where the Universe is helping, is leading, is telling them what to do. where the Universe is favoring one of the two people from the Country like the King calls out. its us, the Player, the ones that 'create' their universe in a sense by installing and playing the game and leading Siffrin around through it

i wonder if it'd make it better or worse for him in that moment if they could look through that glass window to the stars above and see a glimpse of how helpless we, the Universe, were in that moment too, trying to guide him and failing just as much as everyone else

do you get me. does this make any sense.

Okay Bell, you do not fucking get how much this means to me. I have been on the theory of “the universe is actually the players” since I started wandering about this fandom. I do think ALL the players are part of the universe, but are not the universe as a whole. Like, one player is one star and yes, they are part of the overall universe, but there are more stars to see in the same universe so they aren't the universe specifically. My reasoning for this is actually part of how I see Loop’s wish, and thus I get to discuss how I think wishcraft works alongside Loop’s wish and how it affected the timeline. >:3c 

First, I will be using a general assumption of 1.) The looping only affected Vaugarde like The King’s “curse” 2.) There is only one Timeline and 3.) The theory Path of Least resistance (will be explained in conjunction with wishcraft).

As I have mentioned in a previous post I do think that Siffrin’s wish piggybacked off the King’s wish and used it as a blueprint for how far the Timecraft went, which meant that it only turned back the time of Vaugarde. The King says, when asked about wishcraft: 

He says that the country is skipping, stopping, rewinding, restarting, and how that must look from the outside. Which! I would like to point out that the king is NOT a reliable source of information because the King will lie to get you to lower your guard, however! It’s corroborated by the change god, even if they don't implicitly state it, during the Who’s on the Phone event they say: 

“Dormont, repeating! Dormont, Unchanging! Stagnating!” + “In this bubble, where everything stays the exact same…” The Change god also acknowledges that the extent of Timecraft is smaller than the whole world and specifies Dormont, which is the last place affected by the Time Curse (and thus the last place to change in all of Vaugarde). I would take this to mean that the whole world is still going on while Vaugarde is, well, glitching like a DVD with scratches. 

Next, which I think a lot of people tend to skip over, is that there is only one timeline! This is confirmed by Insertdisc5 (Adrienne), on Tumblr on their ISAT spoiler Q&A: 

Which has such interesting implications, but it does help explain something that I want to connect with the third assumption!

Now! The path of least resistance theory! Craft is an energy based magic, which uses the users energy unless powered by an outside force (however it appears to still take energy to direct the craft). This means that it has rules and if I had to guess, is very similar to electricity. Electricity doesn’t actually only go down one path when we apply this theory, instead it has an inverse in output depending on the resistance of the path. So if one path has less resistance then it will have more energy go down that path with more output, if the other has more resistance than that path will have less output/energy. We can apply this to wishcraft and how it affected the outcome of the two wishes that directly went against each other, the Kings and Siffrin’s wishes. Since Siffrin had a lot of energy behind his wish and the king less, Siffrin’s wish went above the King’s own in regards to who ended up with their wish “granted.” (the output was greater due to the fact it was less resistant to the whole of Vaugarde’s wish + Loop’s wish)

So, with all this written out, how do we the Players come into this? :3c well… We are a self contained paradox wish! Siffrin’s initial wish was to (insert one of the initial options) and “You want to stay with them!” which is the wish that caused the Timecraft ability for Timelooping (if I wanted to be pedantic I would actually say Siffrin can Travel time and isn't looping but that's a whole ass other post). This wish DID NOT bring us to the loops nor did it give Siffrin a guide, it was just a wish made to stay with people already in this timeline/universe. This made it impossible for outside help as it was VERY specific to only this universe, “stay with them.” But when Siffrin gave up, they made a secondary wish, 

(Loop: For someone… Anyone, to help me!!!)

This wish let us, The Players, directly able to interact with ISAT and SAAP. As they reached out into the universe and called for help, the Universe answered by letting outside help interact with timeline by guiding the new Siffrin. We are only able to help out by Loop making this wish! But, now, how does that make us a self contained paradox wish? Well… Thats because in order for the wish to happen, we needed to help Loop make the wish in the first place! By playing the SAAP, we helped Loop get to a position in which they made the wish which allowed us to help them which allowed them to make the wish etc etc. 

Thus we the players are now able to continue helping out when the timeline goes forward into ISAT, alongside Loop who’s wish allowed for a second try (a Start again if you will). 

The reason I also added the other information is because I think its important to remember that craft takes energy, and what Loop says about their wish is that they “destroyed” themself rather than “destroy the world” which… I think it means that Loop basically blew up like the Big Bang rather than become a Black Hole like Siffrin did. This “restarted” the timeline as a whole rather than just Vaugarde as we can see differences in Loop’s timeline and Siffrin’s, and if they’re the same timeline why are there such big differences? Well, yeah,,, Loop remade the entirety of the timeline rather than just Vaugarde… Oops! Big Bang, yaknow? Its still a singular Timeline, it’s just that it restarted the timeline’s progress pretty far back as a whole rather than specific segments. Also, Loop doesnt appear to help until after the initial ISAT wish, so we can just assume that the Universe plucked them from their wish making directly into this timeline section. 

As for why I added the whole Path of Least Resistance Theory for wishcraft… that’s cause Siffrin having Loop’s wish actually helped guide Vaugarde’s wishes into an easier path which allowed them beat the King easier <3. Without Loop’s wish, it would have been impossible for Siffrin to actually progress and get out of the loops alive. Lol. ANYWAY, this is all to say, I do think the Universe is a separate entity to the Players BUT by virtue of how the Players interact with Siffrin I would say we are part of the universe via proxy measures. :3c

This really got away from me,,, hope this is all good and understandable I had to use a google doc to write this all out,,,,

[shadowboxmind]

Maybe a hot take, but I don't think the Traveler was being inconsistent or out of character in the last archon quest at all. People are getting upset at their reaction to Lyney and Lynette's behavior from the perspective of players, with meta knowledge of the story that the Traveler, the character, doesn't have.

The players know, for example, that because they're playable characters, Lyney and Lynette are ultimately friendly and on "our" side, and we can also trust that what they told us about their backstory is true. The Traveler does not have that knowledge.

TO BE CLEAR this post is talking about my thoughts on the TRAVELER'S thought process. If we want to talk about how I personally would have reacted to the situation, I'm an overly trusting bleeding-heart who would absolutely get scammed and probably murdered by Fatui in this universe.

(Also characters, even main characters who you normally like, can do things you disagree with and that doesn't mean they're badly written. I mean, sometimes they are, but I don't think that's true in this particular case)

But think about it! Looking at the entire situation from an in-universe, in-character POV, it's a really bad look for Lyney and Lynette overall, because here are the facts as the Traveler is aware of them:

Lyney and Lynette are not only members of the Fatui, the primary antagonistic force in this story, but are specifically members of the House of the Hearth, which is known to specialize in espionage, subterfuge, and sabotage.

Both of them also work in a field that would further require them to be masters of misdirection, audience manipulation, and drama.

They "coincidentally" ran into the Traveler right as they arrived in Fontaine and immediately began to do them favors and be very friendly, including saving them from Furina, bringing them to meet their family, and gifting them VIP tickets to Lyney's show.

During the trial, the twins withheld key information, and not just about their identities (and listen, I get it, I fully empathize with why they did it, I get the reasoning, but it's still a bad look when it gets figured out) but also about what they were doing in the tunnel.

They admitted that the entire magic show was a ruse to do, guess what? espionage! To break into the room with the Oratrice's core and find out how it works. To, through subterfuge, obtain Fontaine's secrets about the nation's most important mechanism and central source of power.

The Traveler has known these people for like, a day total.

So what conclusions might the Traveler draw from these facts? When the evidence shows that Lyney and Lynette have a record of misdirection and obfuscation for their own ends? When the Traveler has no way of knowing if even their initial meeting was orchestrated for an ulterior purpose? How are they supposed to know if the tragic backstory is even true, or if that's just Lyney trying to win back some favor and sympathy? In my opinion, at that moment, they don't. Hence the coldness.

My interpretation of events is that the Traveler does like the twins, and wanted to keep liking them, but was struggling to reconcile their initial impression of two friendly magicians with the realization that these two friendly magicians were dishonest with them for most of the time they'd known each other, so they needed to have some space to figure that out.

And for those saying the Traveler is inconsistent, here's the thing: they still helped Lyney. They still acted as his attorney, investigated thoroughly, won the case, and cleared his name. They've done similar for other Fatui members in their acquaintance—they helped Childe with Teucer, they helped Scaramouche/Wanderer with getting his memories back, they helped that other member of the House of the Hearth fake her death and escape the organization—whether or not they fully trusted them, and generally they didn't.

As for the Traveler's supposed hypocrisy, my view of their relationship with Childe is that it's only improved because, despite Childe trying to nuke Liyue in the past, the Traveler knows that

a. They can handle him if it comes down to a fight again; b. He likes them, regardless of if the feeling is mutual or not, and is indeed aggressively friendly to the point where it's easier to just be civil; c. Childe is generally upfront and honest about his actions and will strike from the front, not stab them in the back; and d. He's worked together with them before when they had a common goal (for example, the labyrinth they went through with Xinyan).

They know how his mind works and what motivates him. Childe is a known quantity, the twins are not, and it took in-story time and shared experiences for the Traveler to get to even this point of neutrality; they were openly suspicious of him during his story quest.

As for holding his Vision for him, the Traveler didn't exactly volunteer for the job, Childe literally threw it at them with no warning and peaced out. What do you expect them to do, drop it in the sea? That would be inconsistent with their characterization.

Wanderer's whole situation is even weirder, since the Traveler was able to experience his actual memories and emotions and therefore has good reason to trust that he's had a genuine change of heart. Not to mention that they're not friends, I'd argue they're in that same nebulous "neutral" zone, and that only because Nahida usually functions as a buffer (and also because, again, the Traveler knows that they can handle Wanderer in a fight, and Wanderer also tends to be blunt and honest).

Also, in Lyney's story quest it seems like everyone got over their problems pretty fast and they're all chummy now, so you can all rest easy that the twins' feelings weren't too hurt about it.

Anyways if you disagree go ham, refute my points, whatever, just keep things civil.

[evvlevie]

Update + me and my manifestation psychosis (get out of your head and into real life!)

Sometimes I get messages from you guys where you tell me that you miss me and that you have some questions left for me.

While I still can’t express how much I truly appreciate each and every one of you following me, the truth is that the past two years weren’t all that easy for me for multiple reasons.

I was trying to wish the life that I have away by forcing manifestations and shifts and nothing working and me getting frustrated and angry with the universe.

I don’t know how much time I spent wishing to be someplace else while not living in the moment of the life that is already around me, wasting precious time with precious people that I adore to my core.

People always ask me different stuff about manifestation and usually the questions are kind of the same so let me tell you the little things I realized while I was basically losing my mind over all of this:

- Manifestation happens when you aren’t looking. It does. Manifestation is not you deciding every little detail about everything and waiting for it to come to fruition infront of you. It’s deciding that you are in the timeline of where your favorable event happens, closing your eyes and let the driver take you to the place you ordered. Anytime you order a taxi you don‘t drive the car yourself do you? And yet you still arrive wherever you need to be.

- Manifestation is trust in the universe. Without trust, there come doubts, and with doubts there comes wavering and that is the reason you get a kind of close version of what you actually asked for but not quite the real thing

- take it easier. All this obsessing over what? When? Where? Am I affirming right? Am I affirming enough? How long until it comes??? All I can say is: RELAX. It’s coming to you the fastest way it possibly can, this is not being changed by your close to psychosis kind of state.

- don’t be afraid of your own head the way I was. Overthinking isn’t saving you. It’s stressing you. A stressed mind doesn’t trust the universe and where there is no trust in the universe there is the most astronomical wavering. Asking yourself wether this one baby little negative thought has ruined your manifestation is not good for your mental health in the long run baby. This is kind of the whole point. If you were trusting, you wouldn’t question wether your thoughts ruin your manifestation because if you were certain in it, you’d know that no thought was actually going to change that.

- LIVE YOUR LIFE WHILE YOU ARE AT IT. WHILE YOU STILL HAVE IT. WHILE IT IS STILL THE WAY IT IS.

—> I know everyone is preaching about living in your head. But manifestation happens when you aren’t looking. Enjoy the people that are around you while they still are, enjoy the things that make your life yours as long as it’s still what it is because you know it’s changing ANYWAY. Appreciate every little moment you get to have from this limited recourse that is your lifetime. THAT is when the manifestations are showing up. It’s when you get out of that spiral that is „manifestation when????“ and get into your life and just live it so that manifestation just shows up and you‘re like RIGHT I MANIFESTED THAT!!!

Take my Taxi metaphor: usually when you order the taxi to a certain place you just look out the window and look at the scenery or you get involved in a little small talk with the taxi driver but you are not stressing about wether you will ever arrive at your destination or if the taxi driver decides to drop you off at a random ass location you didn’t ask for. That’s because you have trust. Trust that goes as far as letting you enjoy the ride itself because the destination is set in stone anyway.

THATS the way you need to play about your manifestation/shifting. Manifest with trust, with certainty, with knowing, with relaxation. Do it lightheartedly as if you don‘t care and do it as if you were to take it for granted.

Get out of your heads.

Yours in every universe,

Evie

[unhinged-as-hell]

One thing I notice is that on videos where they're ranting about how Muslim women are oppressed, the op is always white, American and apparently knows only about Afghanistan.

"Can you list the Islamic countries where this happens?"

"Afghanistan."

"..."

"..."

"And-?"

"Well it happens in Afghanistan and clearly that speaks for every Muslim women!"

⬆️This, my friends, is something of a conversation I have actually seen. If you can't do your research than how can you make any claims?

Let me tell you something about me. I come from a culture that is so obviously there to favor males it is unbelievable. Fortunately this is something my family goes very much against, but of course it's still there in the family and of course I see it freaking around me.

Now I have studied Islam my entire life, finished the Quran, and have learned most of the Prophets lives, you wanna know what I didn't find in there? Women being oppressed.

Muslim women are allowed abortion if done within 4 months, can kill their rapists, go to school, and work. The people I look the most up to in the stories of Islam are women. Examples?

Khadijah(RA) was a business owner, equivalent to a CEO in that time.

Nusaybah bint Ka'ab(RA) was a warrior.

Aishah(RA) was a scholar.

I've read about women going to war in the time of the Holy Prophet(SAW) to avenge their sons, husbands and fathers.

Mothers, mothers are quite literally one of the most important peoples in Islam. This is something I have literally grown up being taught, again and again and again.

There are surahs that speak constantly of how you can't disrespect a woman, how they are allowed to do as they please.

And hijabs? Yeah they're mandatory, but they can't be forced on you. I still don't wear a hijab most of the time, my mother doesn't sometimes, same goes for several other women in my family.

Speaking of my family, most of my female cousins have jobs, good ones at that. Ones a doctor, another's a movie director, several of them are in university and have internships. My oldest cousin still isn't married either, and she isn't in a rush.

Islam takes women so unbelievably seriously and cherishes them so much it is actually remarkable.

Wanna know where all these teachings aren't taken seriously or ignored all together? My culture.

Misogyny isn't in religion. It is in culture.

Next time you decide to hate on something, especially something like a religion, than do your research.

[moonsaver]

@pix3lplays is back again~ not a request I promise, just a question for you because I’m genuinely curious~

So Nanook the Destruction am I right??

I always fall in love with the ones who would kill me, sigh.

But seriously the potential for yandere! Nanook is so important to me, they are sooo yandere coded~being their favorite little mortal that they’d do anything for…it wouldn’t happen but let me have my moment lol

Anyways I wanted to ask who your favorite aeon is. I tried, I tried so hard to keep it at Aha but…Nanook has swayed me to their side…the design?? The cold stare?? They are IMPORTANT to me.

Idk I think I have a chance with them (Pix is delusional) wish me luck~

No, no, come back Pixel, you are CORRECT. You are RIGHT.

I am so thirsty for Nanook. I don't even use that word often as I keep myself hydrated well.

As for my favorite Aeon.. not so sure. I'll have to catch up on the lore, but I'd say it would be the Aeon of Preservation, actually. [Edit: NOT PRESERVATION. I forgot who, but the one who has like.. all the mirrors and memories and stuff.... pls spare me.] {Another edit – it's Fuli!}

Fun fact, I thought Nanook was a playable character and got into hsr because of him, only to find out with disappointment that he is, in fact far from playable. Although Blade might substitute for an inverted Nanook.

But you're so right. I love Nanook. The yandere potential...

Being some Person™️ like out in the middle of who knows whatever planet, and waking up with the sheer, almost incomprehensible knowledge and fact that Nanook has his eyes on you.

Im not sure how exactly being in an Aeon's favor would work, but I imagine it's no easy work. Especially for someone like Nanook, who finds you, as tiny and insignificant, somewhat.. intriguing. Anyone blocking the now golden, burning path set ablaze in front of you is obliterated almost instantly. His favor works so much on you that sometimes you feel it settle thickly in your bones, the gold of his eyes burning through your tiny heart. No one dares to even look at you. Destruction follows the pattering of your feet, the favor rotting into a curse all too quickly, until you have no one left. You'll be forced to see him. To face him. To bear the fraction of a burden he intends to lay upon you for daring to catch his eye, despite being so pathetic and insignificant in the expanse of the universe. Your fragile, human body is laughable. But the curse that rots in your bones might ascend your vessel, if not aid you. In any case.. Nanook watches. His eyes are fixed on you. A vast, golden expanse always haunts your dreams. It is a contrast to the deathly stale black that comes with the wake of Destruction.

[thesensteawitch]

What Is Magical About You? 🧚💕🌱

Pick A Pile Reading

🩵(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)🩵

Hello, Senstea Souls!

This reading will give insights about your unexplored potential. A power that you can nurture. So take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

To get more insights about your unexplored potential book a tarot reading with me. If you have any further questions you can also DM me.

⭐Booking Form|Rate Card|Tip My Blog⭐

Pile 1

Tarot Cards- 10 of swords, 3 of cups, the world, the high Priestess, 7 of cups, 10 of wands

Hello, my dear pile 1. The first thing that I hear for you is healing your body with positive thoughts and affirmations. Your mind can do astral travel and make your wishes come true within days. You may have noticed your manifestations (be it favorable or unfavorable) coming to fruition within days. You have the powers of a warrior who can put an end to things. You are a destroyer of diseases just by aligning yourself to the vibrational frequency of healing. This pile is a healer. And if not then you have the potential to be a healer. You are a great manifester. I also sense sharp intellect and ability to understand complex concepts. You do know that you have some great insights to share which you learned through some adverse situations in your life. There's a secret of the universe that only you know but sometimes you overthink too much about the things that only you know and may end up concluding that you are being delusional. It's so not true, pile 1. I would highly suggest you to invest in your curiosity. Take classes about things that intrigue you. You will be able to strengthen your magical powers. I sense both the energies within you; soft and sharp. Don't go for a third opinion on things that you believe in because I see that people try to convince you otherwise and you end up being confused. Someone in your close circle is being deceitful. You need to add more meaning to your life but don't be too detail-oriented. You may lose track of the goal by carrying this perfectionist attitude. Your magic doesn't need validation from others. You must be the first person to trust in your intuition then only you can expect others to have faith in you. Don't take life too seriously, be playful and that will be your magic. But when tough times come your capability to exert dominance over challenges will be another strong magical side of yours that will bring stability to your life.

Pile 2

Tarot Cards- 8 of wands, knight of wands, 9 of wands, queen of swords, 7 of wands, 9 of swords

Hello, my beautiful pile 2. Your thoughts have the power to navigate the fire of your magic is what I hear. Your power is so strong that if you aren't aware of it and do not have the skill to manage it then you'll stay blind to it all your life. You'll never be able to see its true potential unless you free yourself from self-doubt. There's a fine line difference between considering the risks and living a life full of fears. Your life has no destination because the potential of your magic is ever-expanding. Don't try to fight with the challenges and put an end to them. As there's no end to your potential and growth there's no end to the opposing forces either. These opposing situations are an opportunity for you to grow and expand your magic. Don't try to reach an end goal. Do anything to expand it as much as you can. You are your only limit. Be very blunt and bold when challenges come up and do not lose your faith. Don't withdraw, keep moving forward. Your journey to realize your magic will bring initial challenges but as soon as you keep moving forward they will subside. Your magic lies in revival. You can revive things and bring them to life after they were dead for a long period. You can bring vegetation to the barren land. Impossible it may seem but for the kind of magic you possess, it's not. I hear rebirth and reincarnation. Rare but possible. Things that may not be possible in other people's reality it is in yours. You can bring joy after a river of tears.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards- 3 of swords, page of swords, the Hanged man, king of swords, 10 of cups, 3 of wands

Hello, my beautiful pile 3. I hear dysfunctional family dynamics. You may feel victimized because of the family you were raised in. You have developed defensive qualities and ceased to believe in a harmonious family or may deny the idea of family or marriage altogether. Though deep down I see the curiosity to lead a fulfilling and balanced life. Nevertheless, I sense that your magic is asking to be explored by you. It wants you to leave the hurt behind because the hurt is keeping you stuck. You can give the right discernment and bring a balanced approach to life. Kids are attracted to you. You leave an impact on children's lives and if you haven't then try talking to children and you'll know because they will feel comfortable talking to you and will have so many questions for you. And that is when your test will begin. What will you tell them? That the world is a shitty place? And never believe in having a good and peaceful life for yourself? No, right? You'll give them hope. So give it yourself too. This ride may be bumpy and with ups and downs but it'll be worth it. The more you open yourself to do things with your heart the more opportunities will open up for you. Don't keep yourself blocked. Some of you can even become a great child psychologist and literally can bring magic into others' lives. Find a way. Because you can! Your magic lies in accepting and adapting. I sense a strong connection with children here. You can literally be the magician to them. You leave such a beautiful impact on them. Children find you to be very interesting. With their help you may learn to see the world from a different perspective. Your magic lies in bringing two forces together and yet keeping their individual qualities apart and appreciable. Something you do with your hands weaves magic. Idk why but I am seeing a juggler.

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - Chaos

Masterlist

Might delete this later!

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, institutionalized slavery, romantic whumpee, conditioned whumpees, multiple whumpees, drugging mention, abuse mention, dubcon mention

——————

“Hi.”

Joey almost didn’t hear him, ear pressed to the speaker of her radio, but she saw him. Wesley was tall and lanky, something hard to miss when he was standing right in front of you.

For a moment she wondered where Graham was, always two steps behind, but realized he was more than likely still in bed. Wesley liked to sneak out alone in the early hours of the morning.

Picking up her head and resting it in the palm of her hand, she strung up a smile. She was ever so good at pretending those. “Hello.” She lightened her voice, bubbly as her ma’am would have liked it.

He didn’t seem comfortable with that. “Can I… can I sit? Please?”

“Yes.” The rest of the sentence - whatever you like - was left unsaid, yet still there in a way, like he knew she’s gritting it back. It was probably sat right there in his throat too, waiting to be set free.

He knelt in the chair, knees bumping on the wood, sat uncomfortably. She was never like that herself, her ma’am always kind enough to allow her on the furniture, but she recalled Florence doing the same.

“Do you always listen to the radio?”

“Kind of.” She said, with a nod. “A lot of the time.”

Nicely Wesley flashed a smile, a pet smile, crooking his head in her direction. “You change the- the um… the station a lot. Why?”

“I’m just…,” biting her lip she turned away, “just looking for something.”

“What is it?” He pressed, resting his chin on his arms, crossed over the table. He seemed interested, curiosity painted over his expression. An innocent curiosity, not stemming from a rotting place of malice.

“My lady.”

“Oh.” He said, rolling that around in his head for a moment, before nodding. He refrained from looking her in the eye. “I- I kind of thought that.” Wesley paused for a moment, his lack of social skills obviously not preparing him for what to continue with. “Do you think you’ll find her?”

Tipping her head, she shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Do you want to?”

“I’d rather not answer that.” She wasn’t so sure she had a satisfactory answer, or any answer at all. Definitely not one that could be put into words.

He bit at his lip, fingers curling into fists.“Sorry. Sorry.”

“You’re fine.”

“I don’t know if I want to see my sir again.” He said, quick and nearly a mumble, working his jaw.

“Mm.”

“I miss him… a lot. A lot, a lot. I think.” Gaze glazing over, Wesley had a little glint in his eye that made him look as if he was about to cry. “Do you think he would hate me now? If he knew I let you guys take me away and… and make me this?”

“I dunno.”

“I… hope he wouldn’t. I don’t like it when sir is mad at me.” Then he sounded like a child, one wishing their parent would not be angry with them instead of a human pet with a sir.

“I don’t think any pet wants their owner mad at them.” Joey’s smile was gone then, dropped in favor of the circumstances. “My ma’am… she got scary when she was angry. Violent.”

He lit up, almost with a strange excitement. “My sir, um, he made me lick his shoes once.” Giggling at his own words, it was out of place, but she was not unnerved.

“My lady liked to force me to eat until I threw up. Like cake and stuff. I hate cake.”

“My sir,” he was chuckling just thinking about it, “he’d give me this medicine that made me feel all weird and sleepy, and then dress me up funny. I can’t remember anything after that.”

Swallowing, she curled his hand into hers, remembering what Isaac had always done. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Wesley. You didn’t deserve any of that.” She thought maybe it was something he needed to hear

He was surprised by that. “But- but it’s funny… I was bad. I didn’t mean to-,” his lip trembled as he paused, holding himself back. She tightened her grip on his hand, and he copied her in return.

As he blinked back tears she said, “It’s okay, you can cry.” And he did just that, choking little hiccupy cries, practiced to be quiet.

A moment later, “Wesley?” Graham called, words shaky, rushing out from their room until he found his companion. Soon enough, he switched to Joey. “Why is he- what did you do?”

“We were just talking, Graham.” She said, as calm as she possibly could with a beast baring his teeth at her.

He didn’t believe her, not one bit, lips curling into a snarl. “Did you- have you hurt him? Is he hurt? What did you do?”

Wesley stood to his feet, reaching out a hand in his best attempt to calm Graham down. “She- she didn’t-,”

“Hey-!” He picked her up by the armpits, pinning her to the wall. “I didn’t-!”

“Tell me what you did!” He shrieked this time, Joey blinking as bits of spittle splattered onto her scrunched expression.

“Calm the fuck down!”

“What’s going on?” Florence entered the scene then - Otis hanging back behind the doorway - rushing in in pajamas, eyes falling wide as they settled on the fuss. “Get off’a her!”

Wesley looked between the group, fear clearly stuffing up his face. “Please don’t- he’s just confused-!”

“Don’t touch him!” Graham snarled at Joey, blinded by aggression, shoving Florence away and allowing her to slump to the floor.

”Don’t fucking touch her!” Florence, a good deal smaller than Graham, continued to stand his ground as the newer rescue let a growl rumble from his throat.

The front door slammed shut, bags of groceries disregarded swift to the countertop. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you people doing?” Isaac threw herself between them, both Florence and Graham backing away.

Joey bit her lip, rubbing at her shoulder. Florence and Graham were staring daggers at one another. Otis looked on the verge of tears.

“I was,” Wesley started, brushing away at his tear stained cheeks, “with J- Joey, and Graham thought she hurt me ‘cause I was crying, and-,”

“Yeah, and he fucking attacked her!” Florence threw his hands in the air, yelling.

“Hey! Wesley’s speaking, please show him some respect-,”

Isaac made a mistake. A grave one at that, palm clamping right over her mouth with a hitch of breath.

All five rescues dropped to the floor, all in the same position, each rigid and stone cold as they pressed their foreheads to the wood. Sucking in a breath, each rescue rushing through the horrors in their head, the air fell silent.

Hey, pet. You think you’re all that ‘cause my momma liked you? Do us all a favor and give me my rightful respect.

Don’t you dare ever speak to me that way, dog. You’re a fucking animal that needs to learn the basics of respect.

You don’t want to, Princey? Really? And when have I, or really anyone for that matter, ever cared what you wanted? I think you should show some respect.

You’re just a dirty mutt with rocks for brains, and I’m sure you’re aware. Do you want to go back in the dog house, or are you ready to learn to respect?

I’ve given you everything you could ever ask for, Buttons. All these sweets, a home, a name, and that is what I get? Show some fucking respect.

“God fucking dammit.”

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)