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olive-main · 1 day ago

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Hi, hope you’re well! Saw your request for angst ideas. If you’re interested: Reader has been part of the Inner Circle for years, like an og member. Post war she watches Az fall in love with Elaine or Gwyn. She’s known they’re mates, but he’s always told her he loves her as a friend, and nobody else knows they’re mates. She watches as his relationship grows, maybe they’re having a kid or whatever, this can be all the angst you see fit. She’s finally had enough and decides to leave (either for work as an emissary or for herself). Maybe as she starts to rebuild, Az and the IC realize how much her loss impacts them. But when they go see her, she’s thriving. Ending can be whatever floats your boat, maybe she’s with Eris or thriving in Day as Lucien’s advisor, or something else all together.

To Love and Let Go

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: An unrequited love, and a one sided mating bond. What will reader do when she can no longer watch Azriel fall for another female who isn’t her?

Wc: 2.9k (gah dayum)

A/N: ok, this is the longggest fic I've written to date, but I don't hate it...and I may be persuaded to write a part two with multiple endings bcs I'm indecisive asf. Requests are still open and highly encouraged since I'm on break and have a bunch of free time, clearly.

The stars are mocking tonight, their gleam far too bright for the storm brewing inside you. Velaris has always been beautiful, but tonight the city feels suffocating. The laughter of your family echoes around the River House’s dining room, filling the space with warmth and joy.

You sit at the edge of the long table, wine in hand, your smile carefully in place. Cassian is in the middle of one of his stories, something about Azriel and a drunken spar decades ago. The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but glance at him.

Azriel sits across from you, his shoulders relaxed, his shadows soft and relaxed as they curl lazily around him. He’s laughing—quiet and rare, but enough to tug at your chest in a way you’ve never been able to stop.

Beside him, Gwyn is radiant. She laughs, bright and genuine, her hand resting on his arm as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand shifts, fingers brushing over hers in a way that’s intimate, tender. Simple. Devastating.

You lift your wine to your lips and down the rest of the glass in one burning gulp.

You’ve known for years that Azriel isn’t yours to have. When the Cauldron whispered of your bond, it hadn’t been the joyous revelation you’d dreamed of. Instead, it had been a curse.

You feel it even now—that golden thread tying your soul to his, pulling taut every time you see him. But Azriel never acknowledged it, not once. How could he when he didn't even know it existed?

“You’re my best friend,” he’d told you long ago, sitting beside you on a rooftop in Velaris, the two of you cloaked in silence and shadows. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And you’d smiled. Smiled and tucked the truth deeper inside yourself, burying it so far down you almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real. Almost.

The conversation shifts around you, but the words blur together, distant and unimportant. You force yourself to stay, to laugh when you’re supposed to, to nod in all the right places.

Across the table, Gwyn leans closer to Azriel, whispering something in his ear. He smiles at her, that soft, secret smile you’ve seen so many times over the years. But it’s never been for you.

The ache in your chest spreads, sharp and relentless, until you can’t bear it any longer. You push your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.

“Everything okay?” Mor asks, her brows furrowing as she studies you.

You nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just need some air.”

No one questions you, and you’re grateful for it. You slip out of the room and onto the balcony, the cool night air rushing to meet you. The stars stretch endlessly above, and for a moment, you close your eyes and pretend this life isn’t yours.

But the bond hums faintly in the back of your mind, tethering you to someone who will never feel the same way.

—

You grip the balcony railing, the cool metal grounding you as you draw in a shaky breath. The quiet should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t. Not with the sound of their laughter spilling through the open door behind you, not with the bond thrumming painfully in the back of your mind.

You’ve endured this for years. Watching Azriel laugh, fight, live, all while pretending your heart doesn’t shatter every time he smiles at someone who isn’t you. Gwyn. Elain before her, and Mor long before that. All the women who could never feel what you feel for him—but were lucky enough to have his attention anyway.

And then there’s you, his best friend. The one he trusts, confides in, leans on. Just never in the way you ache for. Even before the bond snapped, you’d been in love with the Shadowsinger. He was always the calm amongst the chaos of your family, the one you could seek refuge in.

The sound of footsteps interrupts your thoughts. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. His shadows reach you first, curling gently around your wrist, hesitant and curious. They always do that, as if they sense the things he doesn’t.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice is soft, warm in a way that makes it harder to breathe.

You release the railing and turn to face him, your mask firmly in place. “I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

His brows pull together, his hazel eyes studying you in that unrelenting way of his. “You’ve seemed… distracted tonight.”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not distracted. Just tired, that’s all.” The lie was easy on your tongue, a lie you’ve repeated more times than you can count.

His shadows shift, curling tighter around you. “You can tell me if something’s wrong,” he says, his voice low, careful.

You want to laugh again. Wrong? Everything is wrong. Your mate is standing in front of you, looking at you with concern while his love sits inside, waiting for him. He doesn’t even feel the bond that’s been tearing you apart for years. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

“I’m fine, Az,” you say again, stepping back, putting distance between you. “Go back inside. Gwyn’s probably wondering where you are.”

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it. He hesitates, his shadows brushing against your hand one last time before retreating.

“All right,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t look convinced.

You watch him go, his wings casting long shadows across the balcony as he disappears into the house. The bond hums faintly, pulling at your heart even as you stand there alone.

—

A part of you wants to blame yourself for never telling him about the mating bond. It was known Azriel always longed for a mate, so much so he had made the bold claim of Elain being his mate once upon a time. Now, he's with Gwyn under that same notion. Unfortunately, your heart had wanted him to love you without the influence of the bond.

Your thoughts persist as you force your eyes shut, trying and failing to fall asleep.

Instead, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all presses down on you. You’ve built your entire life around the Inner Circle, around him. And for what? To watch him build a life with someone else? To keep breaking your own heart over and over again?

No.

When dawn comes, the decision is already made.

—

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asks, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

You stand in the foyer of the River House, your bags already packed and waiting by the door. The soft morning light filters through the windows, casting golden hues over everything. It should feel warm. Comforting. But all you feel is the ache of goodbye.

“I’m sure,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver.

Rhysand stands a few paces away, arms crossed, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. You were like a sister to him, someone he’d protected and seen through every phase of life. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently. “We can figure something out. If you need time off, time for yourself—”

“I need more than time, Rhys,” you interrupt, forcing a small smile to soften the blow. “I need space. A fresh start. This is the right move for me.”

You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times, carefully framing your departure as a professional opportunity. An emissary position in Day Court. Helion had been eager to accept your offer, praising your skills and promising a new challenge that you could sink your teeth into.

It wasn’t a lie. You would thrive in Day Court. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Feyre’s grip on your arm tightens, her lips pressing together as if she’s holding back an argument. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re running away,” she says softly.

You glance past her, your eyes catching on the open archway leading to the dining room. You can feel him in there, his shadows faint even from this distance. The bond pulls, a sharp tug against your ribs.

“I’m not running away,” you tell her, even though part of you wonders if that’s exactly what this is. “I’m choosing myself for once.”

Rhys nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “If that’s what you need, then we support you. Always.”

A lump rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, turning to hug Feyre. “Thank you. For everything.”

—

Azriel watches from the shadows of the dining room as you leave. He doesn’t mean to linger there, doesn’t mean to eavesdrop—but he can’t help it.

He hears Feyre’s quiet goodbye, Rhys’s reassurances. He sees the way your shoulders straighten as you step out the door, as if you’re carrying a weight none of them can understand.

Something twists in his chest, sharp and unfamiliar.

He doesn’t understand it. You’ve left Velaris before, gone on missions and trips for weeks at a time. But this feels… different. Permanent.

For a moment, he almost steps forward, almost calls out to you. But then the door closes, and you’re gone.

—

The Day Court is a world apart from Velaris.

Here, the sun always seems to shine, casting a golden glow over Helion’s sprawling palace. It’s vibrant, full of life, and for the first time in years, you feel as though you can finally breathe.

Helion welcomes you with open arms, praising your work and throwing you headfirst into new projects. The days are busy, your nights peaceful, and slowly—very slowly—the ache in your chest begins to fade.

You make new allies and friends. Lucien, especially, becomes an unexpected source of comfort. He understands unspoken bonds, the pain of being tied to someone who doesn’t want you. For the first few weeks, most, if not all your time was spent by his side.

“You’re free now,” he tells you one evening, the two of you sitting on a balcony overlooking the Day Court gardens. His amber eyes glint in the fading sunlight. “It doesn’t feel like it yet, but it will. One day.”

You smile, a real smile, and let the words settle in your chest.

—

Back in Velaris, the Inner Circle feels the void you’ve left behind. Cassian complains loudly during training sessions about how things don’t run as smoothly without you. Mor keeps suggesting trips to Day Court, half-joking but half-serious. Even Feyre finds herself reaching for you during meetings, only to realize you’re no longer there.

And Azriel…

Azriel notices most of all.

He misses the quiet way you steadied him, the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The balance you brought to the group. To him.

At first, he tells himself it’s just an adjustment. You’ll be back eventually. But as the weeks stretch into months, he begins to realize just how deeply your absence has cut into his life.

The shadow of the bond hums faintly in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t understand why.

Not yet.

—

It’s Feyre who suggests the trip.

“You’ve been working too hard,” she tells Azriel, shooting him with a look that leaves no room for argument. “We all have. A visit to Day Court will do us some good. Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve seen her.”

Azriel hesitates but eventually agrees. He tells himself it’s curiosity, that he just wants to see how you’re settling in. Since you’ve left his relationship with everyone, Gywn especially, has grown distant. He tries to find you in her, comparing the small things that shouldn’t matter—and every time it only makes his heart sink.

When they arrive, they find you in the Day Court gardens, laughing at something Lucien has said. The sunlight catches in your hair, your face glowing with a happiness Azriel hasn’t seen in years.

The gardens are breathtaking, a vibrant sprawl of golden blooms and gleaming fountains that seem to echo the brilliance of the sun overhead. But Azriel doesn’t see any of it.

His focus is entirely on you.

You look radiant, the golden hues of Day Court seeming to highlight the confidence you’ve gained in your time away.

Lucien leans closer, his expression soft yet intent, and the sight makes something dark and ugly twist in Azriel’s chest. It’s not the first time he’s seen Lucien or been jealous of the male, but this—this—feels different. He used to feel that pang of jealousy when he blindly pined for Elain, now with you it returned with a greater force.

He doesn’t understand why these feelings have suddenly spread through him. You’ve always been his friend. His anchor. But as Lucien reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, Azriel feels like he’s watching something slip through his fingers.

“Az?” Feyre’s voice pulls him back. She’s watching him with careful eyes, her brow furrowing.

He shakes his head and straightens his posture, forcing his expression back into neutral territory. “I’m fine.” But he isn’t.

Before Feyre can press him further, Lucien notices their approach and gives a low whistle. “Well, well. Velaris sends its finest.” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes as they flick toward you.

You turn, and when your gaze lands on Azriel, your smile falters. It’s a subtle shift, but he sees it. Feels it.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Azriel,” you greet, inclining your head slightly, your voice polite but distant. As if they were strangers and not the family you chose all those centuries ago.

He hates it.

The reunion is cordial at first, filled with pleasantries and talk of work. Lucien stands close to you, his presence steady, his hand occasionally brushing yours in a way that grounds you. Azriel’s shadows stir restlessly, but he forces them into submission.

“You’ve done well here,” Feyre says warmly, her gaze sweeping over the garden. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Your smile is genuine, though it doesn’t quite reach Azriel. “Helion has been… generous with his trust.”

“And with his emissary’s time,” Lucien adds, grinning at you. “She’s a natural. Can’t imagine how Day Court managed before she arrived.”

The praise makes you duck your head slightly, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks. Azriel’s jaw tightens.

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” he says, his voice lower than usual.

Your eyes flick to him briefly before turning back to Lucien, but there’s something guarded in your expression. “I have. It’s been… fulfilling.”

The word stings more than it should.

—

Eventually, Feyre and Rhys drift away with Lucien, leaving you and Azriel alone amidst the golden flowers. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“You’ve been… different,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You glance at him, your arms folding across your chest. “Different how?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Happier,” he admits.

The softness in his voice almost makes you falter, but you stand your ground. “I am,” you say simply.

His shadows curl around his feet, agitated. “You left so suddenly,” he says, his tone sharper now. “One day you were there, and the next you were… gone. No warning. No explanation.”

You raise an eyebrow, bitterness creeping into your voice. “I told you I needed space. I told all of you.” You pause for a second, staring at a cluster of white lilies. “Why does it matter now, Azriel?”

“Because I miss you,” he says, the words raw and unguarded. “We all do. But me… I—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.

You laugh softly, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “You miss me now? After I’ve finally started to find peace? After you’ve built a life with Gwyn?”

His shadows surge forward, brushing against your arm, but you shake them off. “Don’t do this, Azriel.”

“You’re my friend,” he says, and the words make your heart twist painfully.

You whirl to face him, your eyes blazing. “No. I was never just your friend, Azriel. I was your mate.”

The truth spills out before you can stop it, sharp and cutting. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

“What?” His voice is barely a whisper.

You laugh again, a broken sound. “The Cauldron tied us together centuries ago, but you never felt it, did you? You never even noticed.”

His shadows pull back, retreating like they’ve been burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter!” you snap, your voice rising. “You didn’t want me that way, Azriel. You never did. And I wasn’t about to force something on you that you didn’t feel.”

He stares at you, his usually stoic face cracking with something raw and uncertain. “I—”

But you shake your head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“You��ve moved on?” he echoes, his gaze flicking toward the direction Lucien went. His voice lowers, dangerous. “With him?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though the word feels heavy. “Because he sees me, Azriel. He knows what it’s like to be unwanted. To feel second-best.”

The words are a dagger between you, and you can see the way they strike him, the way his shadows twist and writhe.

“Is that what you think?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “That you were second-best?”

Your throat tightens, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The bond hums faintly in your chest, but it’s different now—fading, unraveling as you finally let go of the male who could never love you the way you deserved.

“I’m happy here,” you say softly, your voice steady. “And you… you have Gwyn. You have your life in Velaris. Let that be enough.”

Azriel doesn’t argue. He just stands there, his shadows a chaotic storm around him, as you turn and walk away.

This time, you don’t look back.

Aaannd scene XOXO ~

#oneshots #scenarios #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #azriel x you #request #reqs open #angstmas #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster

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lady-griffin · 3 days ago

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Powder in Pretend Like It's the First Time

It’s my firm belief that while she may not have figured out everything (because honestly how could she), Powder did know that the Ekko she’s been spending time with wasn’t her Ekko, long before she saw the two different Ekkos.

Personally, I think it’s when Ekko showed her the crystal shards because I think her Ekko knows she still has the gemstones and if he wanted to make something with them... well he would’ve known she had them.

Plus a few other things –

She looked surprised by him lighting the incense for Vi, which I can’t believe is something her Ekko has never done; especially since it looked like she was offering the stick to him so he could light some himself when they first visited the altar.

Her slightly heartbroken face when she leaves the lab to start getting ready for the party.

But also, the way she looked at him when he was carving one of the little monkeys.

It’s a loving look, but also a sad one as well... it feels like she’s starting to develop feelings for this Ekko, while also missing her Ekko.

Because I can't imagine she isn't missing him, he's her best friend and the love of her life - as much as the two Ekkos are alike, it's still not her Ekko.

Finally, there’s her not being confused by Ekko asking if they can pretend like it’s the first time.

She has to know that's not her Ekko and maybe this is just the Timebomb slugs in my head, but when she was hurt and disappointed that he didn’t want to kiss her it felt more like – 'oh I read our friendship wrong and you’re not interested' kind of reaction rather than a 'my boyfriend and I haven’t kissed for days let alone anything else and now he just pulled away from me seriously are we breaking up' kind of reaction.

And honestly, what a weird experience for this girl; I mean it’s million times nicer than anything Jinx has experienced, but still, what a truly bizarre thing for her to go through.

But also talk about true love –

She trusts Ekko because it’s still Ekko, even though she doesn’t know exactly what they’re trying to do with the Z-Drive and also Ekko essentially body snatched her boyfriend.

She doesn’t confront him about any of it – which could just be because it’s one thing to think to yourself “that’s not my boyfriend” versus saying it out loud.

But again, just the way she looks at him. I'm obsessed!!

Seriously, I’m fascinated with all the little micro expressions she has when looking at our Ekko and yeah... I love these two genius idiots so goddamn much, no matter what universe or version of them.

#Arcane #Arcane Spoilers #Timebomb #Ekko x Powder #Pretend Like It's the First Time #Powder #Ekko #EkkoJinx #Jinx #Arcane Powder #Arcane Ekko

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sillyuin · 21 hours ago

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hi <3! was wondering if i can get svt reaction to yn being completely oblivious to them flirting with her? subtle things like while she’s just ranting about her day they’d move closer to her and she’d absentmindedly put her hand on their chest to push them away still running her mouth, just completely unaware of what’s happening. and even the most obvious things like compliments or physical touch, yn is blind to it and it’s so frustrating to them

so yeah, hope you see this! ❤️

Hi! I'm sorry for being so late 😭 i've been very busy with job and housework, but it's finally here.

Svt reacts: Flirting vs clueless s/o. Who will win?

Yuin's note: barely proofread. I'ts 1 am and I'm tired.

Seungcheol. Staring at your face.

I mean, he likes to just stare at you as if he's watching the prettiest person in the world, but when Seungcheol wants to be especially flirty, he stares at you fondly and smiling with the whole intention to make your heart skip a beat, he even glances at your lips, as if he were trying to say something. Most of the time that's enough to make you really, really shy but when is not... Geez, he has to breathe in and ends up pouting a little (Probably one or two pecks will make him feel better).

Jeonghan. Teasing.

Is like his default love language, making harmless jokes to see you flustered all over him is just so fun to watch. But, is he really just trying to be a teaser, or is there something else behind? "I took the chair, but you can sit on my lap" he said one day, sitting at your desktop, with the most mischievous smile possible. But you didn't fall for his charm and as you kept your annoyed face, he stood up and sighed "Okay, all yours". And you better be ready because he's not forgetting so easy, and will keep teasing you just a little (yeah, a little) more than usual.

Joshua. Back hugging.

When Joshua wants your attention only and only for him, he goes where you are to hug you from the back, resting his chin on your shoulders and crossing his arms around your waist. Oh, he loves it so much is so tender, but he gets lowkey hurt when you don't react in any way because, how come you don't realize his intentions? Is really doing the dishes way more important than his warm hugs? Now, this is personal and Joshua won’t let you go, take it as a punishment for being so clueless (reward or punishment?).

Jun. Tickles.

For him, tickles is the perfect excuse to be closer to you. It's so obvious that hurts lol. Most of the time you melt in his touch, and you both end up laughing and sharing some kisses, but sometimes you're minding your business, too busy to realize that Jun wants to get your attention. Better get ready because you'll have a pouty little cat going around the apartment, and will NOT forget your offense unless you give him extra cuddles before bed.

Hoshi. Random "facts".

At the least appropriate time, he would come to find you. "Did you know that there is a minimum number of kisses that a person should receive per day to be healthy?" he says with a very serious expression on his face. And there you are, standing in the middle of the living room while you're brushing your teeth; your soulless expression says all. Hoshi turns around and pretends nothing happened, but in his mind, he's sitting in the corner staring at the walls.

Wonwoo. Making compliments out of nowhere.

He likes to pour you with sweet words, like how much he appreciates your homemade food, or that you did it great at work. From time to time, he thinks is fun to be a little sassy and his praises are very, very intentional. “New gloss?” he says, grinning at you “It looks good” and for some frigging reason you just start talking about how you got it? Babe, Wonu doesn’t care that much that you bought it because your favorite gloss wasn’t on stock, but now he feels a little shy to speak and just lets you tell the whole story.

Woozi. Playing with your hair.

When it comes to be openly flirty, Woozi tends to be a little coy. You rarely notice it since it's very common for him to be around you, caressing your hair and playing with the strands in complete silence. So when you get distracted he places a strand behind your ear, exposing your neck. But when he's so close to place a kiss, you jump like a scared kitten. "No! It tickles!" Woozi looks down, defeated, as you move away. "Sorry, be right back" and he locks himself in his room for the next hour.

Minghao. Holding your hand.

He thinks your hands are more than just pretty. Hao likes to take one of them when you're sitting by his side, scrolling on your phone or watching TV. He's so subtle that most of the times you don't feel how he traces your hand with his fingers and when you realize, it’s because your hands are intertwined and he’s holding his laughter. “How low you’ve been like this?” but Minghao just giggles. You end up doing the same and then resume your activity, letting him laughing low in embarrassment and biting his lips as a sign of frustration.

Mingyu. Resting on your lap.

He's very straightforward when it comes to flirting with you. Mingyu likes to wait patiently for you to sit on the couch or the bed and then he goes, at first making some (pretty obvious) questions "What are you doing?" "Is that a new book?" and as you're talking, his hands rest on your thigh, gently stroking your skin with his thumb, but you're so immerse in the topic and he goes completely unnoticed... And before you even notice, there's a flustered Mingyu resting his head on your lap, tracing small circles on your thigh as if he had been punished.

Dokyeom. Taking photos.

He already has a folder with your name and an unhealthy number of photos; Seokmin just never gets tired, you're so used to it that most of the time don't realize that he's actually trying to hit on you. "Just let me take a picture, you look so beautiful today!" And after giving him an awkward smile, you're getting back to your stuff. Seokmin is a bit disappointed but with a bunch of new photos of his precious person, so is not that bad (at least is what he says to himself trying to not lose his mind).

Seungkwan. Scolding.

I know, it may sound like a bit harsh but when he's scolding you, Seungkwan tries to make it as tender as possible, it doesn't feel like scolding and actually, he uses this as a cheap excuse to be extra lovely. "Don't sleep too late, you're getting dark circles" he says in a soft voice while caressing your checks "you're too pretty for that, don't you think?". He waits for you to take the bait and when you laugh on him, saying that he's being a little dramatic, Seungkwan doesn't hide his disappointment. "Okay, keep watching your series" he says getting up from the couch "but don't you dare to complain later!"

Vernon. Placing his arm on your shoulders.

A classic that never dies and his favorite, Vernon likes to do it all the time: when watching movies, chatting, watching videos together; is a like a very subtle invitation to get closer to him, and somehow, most of the time you’re just minding your business and leave him waiting for you to notice. And yeah, he’s very patient, but everything has a limit. "Come here, babe" then he places his hand on your shoulder and brings you closer to his chest. And don't you dare to move, because there's no way he let you go now.

Dino. Calling your name.

Usually, he calls you by pet names or your name in diminutive, reserving the use of your name for special occasions. However, it doesn't always end the way he expected. “Did I do something wrong?” you ask him just after he called you by your name, and when Chan sees your big doe eyes, his smile fades. “Is just that… I feel like you’re mad at me”. At this point his intentions doesn’t matter anymore, he just hugs you and tries not cry in his disappointment.

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hvbris · 1 day ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"I just... don't like that he had such an impact on me," she admitted, "I don't like that he hurt me, that because of him I can't sit next to the big windows." No one else had managed that. Not even Sloane. She wasn't scared of being alone in the workshop because he had tried to kidnap her there. But she was scared of heights because of Evil Theo. It made her feel like he had gotten in her head, somehow, and now was festering.

Her dad's joke dragged a happy chuckle out of her. It was a relief, to hear him joke again. Surely it meant he was getting better. Surely it meant he was going to get back to normal. Violet had to cling to that, so the guilt wouldn't suffocate her completely. "I bet the agents are shakin' in their boots when you go to lecture them," she laughed, "if you can stop Ben from painting on the walls, you can stop any agent from doing something stupid."

The matter of the Apocalypse Club seemed to be closed, and Violet knew when to pick her battles. She wouldn't learn anything else about them, not today. But at least she knew they were a sort of cultist mafia, and that they were in New York. And if her dad was hunting them, then she'd have to be careful. Avoid that address. She wondered who they worshipped, but knew it was best to keep that question for later.

"I guess we couldn't," she confirmed with a little smile, "but now we can." She nodded. "I promise I'll be wary. And I promise that if I ever get another letter, I'll show it to you first. I'm not interested in what they have to say to me, anyway." Besides, she was still upset that Davidson had stolen her trap and pretended it was his own design.

It was hard coming to terms with phobias and disorders but at least she could recognise that heights effected her. He let himself believe that meant she would be careful if she ended up somewhere high or even better perhaps not go somewhere high at all. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," he said quietly, trying to offer her some reassurance but he was unsure what exactly her misery was coming from.

He offered a smile that she thought those he recruited were lucky, in some sense he agreed with her but he thought on the Millers and how it was Cass had not wanted Mina to be recruited, just as much as he did not want Violet to be recruited either. He hoped that by the time Violet turned eighteen or much more preferable to him, twenty-one, Delta Green would accept a 'no' as an answer. He had time to work on that at least. He chuckled a little at her comment on his lecturing, he did far more than that but he didn't tell her as such, wondering if he was just as bad or worse in what he was sometimes sent to do. "They clearly saw my potential." He managed in the way of a joke, at last.

Noticing that his eyebrow move had no effect anymore he thought he would have to up his game in future, but he didn't blame her for reading the file if it was open, it was tempting and something he tended to do anyway. Hence why he was usually so careful with his files he had at home. "Something like that," he said of the club, troubled by their existence but assured that their prominence was not taking hold of the city.

Her apology around her reaction to the letter earned her a little nod of understanding in return. "I guess we both couldn't see how it was impacting the other person, huh?" He offered kindly but was also relieved to have that weight lifted too, it had been lingering on his mind since it happened and knowing she now understood was much more comforting than trying to convince himself she had moved on. "I promise not to do it again, but I hope with what you've learned from me and from what you have seen, you will be much more wary of what it is anyone other than myself or Samantha have to say about Delta Green." He was of course still thrilled she revealed she no longer wanted to be an agent, he really would have to tell Samantha later!

#&(killian beneventi)#violet (there's no happy endings)#multipleoccupancy #delta green verse #read at your own discretion

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meanbossart · 2 days ago

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So, I was thinking after the newest Bhaalist DU Drow art (and his hand dangerously close to Astarions throat): what would happen if Astarion runs away? Did he ever try?

And, what's also pretty sad, how does affection look like for them in this AU? Does Astarion just push through and dissociate? Can he ever say no? Or does he hope the love of his life (or unlife) changes at some point?

Thankies 💕

CW: Non-explicit description of a coercive sexual relationship.

You know, I'm not sure he would try to run away. I haven't thought about this AU in quite as much depth as I have their canonical story, but I do know that DU drow has turned Baldur's Gate and the area around it into quite the scary place. The "immediate and absolute control over the brain" outcome that we get in the game is a bit too easy for me, but he DOES retain the stones and therefore ownership over it, not to mention a huge bargaining chip in political control of the vicinity.

The church of Bhaal is reinstated, and while it will never be in the interest of Bhaalists to be blatant about their activities, it would become common knowledge that they have eyes everywhere. Killing is still ritualistic rather than mindless massacre, and indoctrination is prioritized - they can't expand and fulfill Bhaal's will if all potential followers are dead. People who don't yet follow the gospel have reason to cooperate with them since that lessens their chances of being killed.

So, if the darling of the cult's head were to suddenly disappear, everyone infected would be immediately zapped with the knowledge of exactly what he looks like and where he was last seen, and what the repercussions are for anyone who fails to report his whereabouts. Astarion knows this, DU drow would make sure that he does.

Also, it would probably be far too easy for Astarion to justify his own compliance and try to make peace with the situation. This IS the man he fell in love with, he DID encourage his pursuit for power at every step, he may not be the grand vampire ascendant, but he is the Murder Prince's beloved. He doesn't beat him, he doesn't torture him, he spoils Astarion with riches, comfort, and all the fresh blood he could dream of; all he asks for in return is his eternal devotion, constant affection, adoration, control over where he is, wears, does, and total surveillance.

When the alternative is braving the cold, ruthless world as a meager little vampire spawn while being hunted down by your ex's minions (hm, sounds familiar) being the equivalent to your partner's boutique pet starts to look pretty desirable. Astarion falling to old habits and resigning to his circumstance seems pretty likely to me. If he did run away successfully, life would be a whole lot harder for him. If he runs away unsuccessfully, he loses the trust of his murderous, power-hungry partner and the few liberties he is afforded at all.

Speaking of liberties, saying no to intimacy is one he still has, however the consequences for being frigid and nonreciprocating would come in other forms, over time, and Astarion would probably rather spare himself the trouble and just play along as the highly affectionate and fiery lover that this DU Drow wants him to be. The happier he is, the easier things are.

Not to mention that, occasionally, he can pretend that everything is back to how it used to be when they are being intimate.

I think there are vulnerable moments where he hopes he will snap out of it, but most of the time Astarion is convincing himself that he hit the jackpot, that he has DU drow wrapped around his finger and he will be able to turn this more in his favor eventually.

#ask #bhaalist du drow #du drow and astarion #content warning

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chocoqtelle · 2 days ago

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inner child pac reading

🦀 pile one,,

I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?

it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.

🐸 pile two,,

It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.

holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here 😓 first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.

🐕 pile three,,

I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.

this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.

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gothhabiba · 1 day ago

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@ anon

I think it might be actually dangerous to publish your ask, but I'm sure from my response people will be able to tell what it's about anyway.

You're full of actual, absolute shit if you're pretending not to know by now that verification processes to ensure the legitimacy of Ghazzawin's fundraisers have been undertaken, and that details about what these processes entail have been shared by several people. Several people, some of them currently in Gaza, put themselves through countless hours of work video-calling people, judging their knowledge of dialectical Arabic, seeing their faces and their children's faces and their living conditions, seeing IDs and bank information, asking invasive, personal questions that they didn't want to be asking & that the people responding probably didn't want to be answering, and physically visiting people in Gaza and video-recording their interactions, just so that people like you could be sure that these fundraisers were legitimate. If you're ignoring all of the blood & tears that went into that process just so you can hand-wring about scams, no one needs to be concerned with convincing you of the legitimacy of anything, because you were never going to donate to these people anyway. You are just looking for any plausible-sounding excuse not to do what you already didn't want to do.

If, by some miracle, you actually didn't know about the verified fundraiser spreadsheet (which is frankly still blameable bc, where on earth have you been?), then there it is. The post of mine that you're referring to never even mentioned responding to asks; using this spreadsheet is an absolutely valid, reasonable way of donating directly to families.

Now let me treat some of your statements as though they were questions (which, they were not).

How do people in Gaza have internet access?

Internet infrastructure in Gaza is very robust (e.g. in what cables are made of, how deep they're buried, amounts of redundancy in the system, &c.) because they have been getting bombed by Israel all the fucking time for decades, so they expect this infrastructure to be put through a lot. There have still--if you've been following the situation at all--been several outages caused by damage that Ghazzawin have needed to repair. Though I do have to say that I find it odd that you doubt Ghazzawin have internet access, but also say that you buy eSims...?

A lot of people right now are indeed connected via eSim, which to my understanding only need to connect to wifi once, right when they're activated. People put themselves at risk to connect to eSims because they need to get a good wifi signal, which usually means walking for several miles trying to find high ground. One of my contacts once urgently called me (this is the only time he hadn't just texted) because he had been told his friend had found a signal and so they needed an eSim right then, before they went back to their tent.

I've been trying for some time to connect another of my contacts in Gaza to an eSim, but we're not having success. At Crips for eSims for Gaza they / we (I'm on the server getting advice and helping out but I'm not using their funding; I'm using what people on tumblr have given me to purchase eSims with) keep a constantly updated sheet of which eSim providers use which networks and which networks work in which areas--because the situation is constantly changing. Because my contact doesn't have an eSim on a personal phone, she has to go to a central location to be allotted three hours of internet access from someone who has managed to get connected. Lots of people, on their fundraising posts and pages, specify exactly how they've gotten internet access, how difficult it's been for them to get it, and how stressful it is to be relying on this tenuous connection, spending hours away from their families (at high risk of being shot at by IOF soldiers the whole time), just to message people for hours straight and then go home again.

2. How do people in Gaza have tumblr accounts?

This is a stupid question. Anyone with an email address who is capable of picking a username and password can make a tumblr account. I have personally helped several of my contacts in Gaza with the process.

3. How do people in Gaza know to come into people's tumblr accounts?

This is also a stupid question. I don't really see how you could ask this question if you saw Palestinians as, like, real humans beings. You understand that people talk to each other, yes? Like with words? As soon as a few people had success fundraising to evacuate Gaza on tumblr (nearly a year ago... this news has had a lot of time to spread), obviously they told other people about it.

One of the ways that Israel conducts its genocidal war is through the destructiveness of frustration and boredom. It's a strange situation because everything is extremely dire, urgent, terrifying, and dirty, but there's also seldom anything to do. People are singing, telling stories, going to the beach, inventing games and contests, to entertain children, but also to entertain themselves. And this is the situation--with a bunch of desperate, bored people packed into a tiny piece of land--this is the situation that you think it's impossible for people to talk to each other in? Come on.

If you want to donate to Anera and World Food Kitchen and buy eSims, that's fantastic. Please do that. But if you are as ignorant of the particulars of what this situation is like as your ask makes you appear, then I hope you refrain from speaking on what the situation is like.

I've been nattering on for a long time so here's my call to action:

Decide what you're capable of giving right now, or the next time you get paid

Scroll down on the vetted fundraiser spreadsheet and find someone very low on funds, or with injured children who urgently need treatment or evacuation, and give that money.

AND / OR give it to the PCRF or the IRW

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killerelysia · 23 hours ago

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Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 4!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 10276

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

Than to love and be loved by me.

The one who loves.

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

I was a child she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea.

DAY 2: THE KINGDOM

The next day, Your usual seat at the front wasn’t even a consideration today; you made a beeline for the back corner, far from prying eyes—and far from Crowe. Your heart sank when you saw him glance up from his seat, his expression brightening momentarily at the sight of you.

But you didn’t meet his gaze.

You sat down quietly, pulling out your sketchbook and notebook, placing them on the desk like a shield. Your hands trembled slightly as you flipped to a blank page, picking up your pencil to sketch. The familiar motions grounded you, the lines and curves forming shapes, the gentle pressure of graphite against paper drowning out the world....

Crowe stood a few desks away, watching you with furrowed brows. He hesitated, then started toward you. His voice was soft, careful. “Y/n…”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you pretended to be engrossed in your notebook, scribbling down the professor’s words as the lecture began. Your focus was split between the notes and the growing sketch in your sketchbook—a vague outline of Sol’s silhouette, his familiar posture, his distinct, sharp features.

Crowe lingered near your desk, shuffling awkwardly. "Hey, can we—"

You turned a page in your notebook with a deliberate flick, effectively cutting him off without a word. He exhaled sharply, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Y/n, please, just—”

Still nothing.

The room began to fill with whispers as students noticed the exchange. Embarrassed, Crowe finally moved back to his seat. But even as he sat down, you could feel his eyes on you, a weight pressing on your shoulders. You swallowed hard, your pencil pausing mid-stroke.

You were sorry.

Sorry for ignoring him, for pushing him away, for the cold shoulder and the distance you’d built brick by brick. But it had to be this way. It had to. Crowe didn’t belong in this part of your life, in the chaos you were creating for yourself. He deserved better—better than being tangled in the web of your obsession with Sol.

You kept your head down for the rest of the lecture, focusing solely on your sketch and notes. You poured your feelings into the page, the drawing of Sol becoming more vivid, more alive with every stroke. It was as if he were there with you, his gaze pulling you in, his lips curved in that faint, elusive smile that haunted your dreams.

The professor dismissed the class, and students began to file out. You stayed in your seat, pretending to organize your things. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Crowe hesitate near the door, glancing back at you one last time. His expression was a mix of worry and resignation.

Your chest tightened painfully. You wanted to look at him, to say something, to explain. But you didn’t.

Instead, you kept your eyes on your sketchbook, shading in the smallest details, your lips pressing into a thin line. You heard his footsteps fade away, and the classroom grew silent. Only then did you let out a shaky breath, your fingers trembling as they gripped your pencil.

"I'm sorry, Crowe," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible.

But you didn’t stop drawing. You couldn’t. Sol’s face stared back at you from the page, his crimson-orange eyes boring into yours. You smiled faintly, brushing your fingers over the drawing.

For now, this was enough.

The words echoed in your head as you stirred awake, the remnants of an uneasy dream slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

"If you don't pay up, we will have to take your land."

It was a haunting phrase, one tied to memories you didn’t care to revisit.

You felt someone shaking you gently, pulling you back to the present. Bleary-eyed, you blinked up at the figure looming over you.

“Does that mean we can talk now?”

The voice was unmistakable. Your vision cleared, revealing Crowe's concerned face staring back at you. For the love of everything, him again.

“No,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. You sat up fully, brushing off his presence like an unwanted pest. “Leave me alone.”

“Why are you—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Pushing past him with enough force to make him stumble, you stormed off.

The hall was already bustling with students, and you moved through the crowd with purpose. Brittney and Deryl stood near the lockers, their animated chatter ceasing as you passed. Geo, leaning against the wall, caught your gaze with a sneer. His lips curled into a silent judgment, his expression screaming disgust.

You paused for the briefest moment, flashing him a sharp smile. And just for good measure, you stuck out your tongue before continuing down the hallway. You didn’t care what they thought—not Geo, not Brittney, not Deryl. Not even Crowe.

Except… Crowe was still following.

You glanced over your shoulder. His pace was slower now, his shoulders slumped, his expression weighed down by something you didn’t want to name.

Why won’t he stop?

You reached your destination, you slowed your steps and pulled out your phone, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. In truth, you weren’t checking messages or scrolling through feeds. You were just avoiding the noise—the whispers, the stares, the weight of Crowe’s gaze.

Lunch.

Your stomach twisted as you realized you hadn’t brought anything to eat. Of course, you hadn’t. You never did anymore, not since you left your lunch box at the vent.

You tensed, gripping your phone tighter. The vent was closed now. There was no way to check out Sol anymore.

No way to be near him without making it obvious.

You stood frozen for a moment, debating your next move. You couldn’t go back to the cafeteria, not with those faces staring at you. And you certainly couldn’t go to Crowe.

You took a shaky breath and turned, heading toward an empty corner of the school. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but them.

You didn’t care. No, you really didn’t. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you moved through the hall like a ghost, your thoughts fragmented and chaotic.

Join Sol

Call Sol over

Stay with the fucking group

And then you saw him.

Sol.

He was stepping out of a classroom, his silhouette catching the dim light like it was crafted to stop your heart. For a second, you were frozen. But then you noticed someone trailing after him—a familiar face.

Hyugo.

That rascal. The carefree little mischief who somehow always seemed to be hanging around Sol like a bored puppy. Hyugo looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else, his hands in his pockets, expression betraying his boredom.

You couldn’t help it; your gaze locked onto Sol, and your heart practically burst with excitement. It was too much—your steps quickened, and for a second, an impulse hit you like a lightning strike:

Run. Hug him. Surprise him.

But reality hit harder.

That’s fucking creepy! What the hell is wrong with you?!

Your pace slowed, and you adjusted course, pretending to act casual. A flood of emotions hit you as you walked closer to Sol: adoration, longing, frustration. You were caught between running away and running straight to him, but there was no stopping now.

Sol’s eyes shifted, catching sight of you. He stopped mid-conversation, his focus zeroing in on you like a heat-seeking missile. His expression remained calm, unreadable as always, but you knew he’d noticed you.

Beside him, Hyugo also turned, noticing Sol’s distraction. His gaze followed, landing on you. For a brief second, his eyes were dark, calculating. But then, his lips curled into a smile. A smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Threatening.

The moment replayed in your mind —his voice, the subtle threat, the tension crackling like static in the air. You ignored it.

“Hello! Did Sol teach you a lesson yet?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Hyugo’s bored demeanor dropped instantly. His eyes narrowed, and his lips formed a pout, an exaggerated expression of mock offense.

“Hmph! You told him?! Why would you do that?” he said, huffing like a sulking child.

You smirked. “You and George of the Jungle have the exact same baby face,” you shot back, tilting your head.

Hyugo’s faux anger morphed into surprise. His mouth opened slightly in an “O” shape. “You know him?”

You nodded smugly. “Yeah. I like to piss him off. He torments me constantly, so I’ve made it my mission to get justice for the—uh—life he’s made miserable for me.”

Hyugo raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

“And while we’re on the topic,” you continued, pointing at him, “tell your brother to stop being such a Pinocchio and sticking his big nose in other people’s business!”

Hyugo blinked. “Okay! He won't listen!"

“And you!” you turned your attention back to him, your eyes narrowing, “you threatened me yesterday! For what? What did I even do to deserve that?!”

Hyugo crossed his arms, a smirk curling on his lips. “Me? Threaten you? I would never,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t act innocent,” you shot back.

Sol, who had remained silent during your exchange, finally spoke. His voice was calm, cutting through the tension. “Hyugo, stop messing around. Didn't we talk about it?"

Hyugo sighed dramatically, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. Geez, Y/N, you’ve got sharp teeth for such a cute face.”

You glared at him, though your heart skipped a beat at Sol’s intervention.

Sol glanced at you, his usual composed demeanor softening into a rare, gentle smile. “Hyugo won’t do it again,” he assured you, his voice calm but with an edge that hinted at unspoken consequences.

You tilted your head, curiosity bubbling up. “And if he does?” you asked, teasingly but genuinely curious.

Before Sol could answer, Hyugo spoke up, his grin wide and playful. “Break my nose, for sure,” he said with a dramatic shrug, as if the idea didn’t faze him in the slightest.

You blinked, caught off guard by his nonchalance. For a moment, you were tempted to laugh, but something about the way Hyugo carried himself made you hesitate. He wasn’t someone to underestimate, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he knew it too.

Still, you forced a smile and decided to shift the mood. In your best attempt at Japanese, you bowed your head slightly and said, “ごめんなさい。” (Gomen’nasai.)

Hyugo’s eyes widened in surprise, his usual teasing smirk replaced by something more genuine—a bright smile that seemed to light up his face. But just as quickly, his expression shifted into something more thoughtful, his brows furrowing slightly.

He was thinking.

Perhaps too deeply for someone like Hyugo.

You could almost see the gears turning in his head. Did he suspect something? Could he tell you weren’t just throwing out random words? Maybe he’d pieced together that you actually understood bits of what he was saying when he switched to Japanese.

Sol, however, just looked at you, his crimson-and-orange gaze filled with quiet confusion. “What… are you doing?”

You grinned cheekily, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. “It was a one-day course I did,” you explained casually, “figured I’d try it out. Plus, I wanted to use it to piss off Geo.”

Sol’s expression didn’t change, but you swore you caught the faintest twitch of amusement in the corner of his lips.

Hyugo, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at you, his arms crossing as he tilted his head. “Geo, huh? So you’re learning languages just to mess with him?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a playful smile.

Hyugo shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. “You’re something else. My brother never was silent!”

You hissed under your breath, the tension building inside you, threatening to spill over. Hyugo, that damn shit, was trying to divert the conversation again, and you could feel your frustration boiling over. But before you could say anything, he chimed in with a grin.

"But hey there! Thanks again for taking care of my buddy ol' pal here!"

You clenched your fists, the words on the tip of your tongue. No! Don't say it. Don’t fucking say it, Y/n. The voice in your head screamed, but you couldn’t help it.

"You’re an idiot," you said, the words coming out more harsh than you intended. "Ditching your friend like that. You know Sol gets bullied a lot. What if someone—"

You caught yourself too late. The words hung in the air, and you immediately regretted speaking them. Shut up, you fucking idiot! The self-loathing crashed down on you like a wave. You had to hold back the urge to slap yourself for speaking without thinking.

Hyugo, to his credit, just let out an awkward chuckle and winked at you, clearly unfazed. “Well, you were there for this handsome face fully yesterday, so I wasn’t worried.” He teased, grabbing Sol’s jaw and holding it up for display, causing an irritated groan to escape from the usually composed taller male.

“You. Are. Embarrassing. Me.” Sol’s voice was low, almost embarrassed as he tried to swat Hyugo’s hand away from his face, but Hyugo didn’t budge, instead grinning like the fool he was.

You felt a pit in your stomach. They were so easy with each other, too easy. You hadn’t been in a friendship like this, a closeness that felt so…natural. But that didn’t mean you liked it. It didn’t mean you were okay with it. Sol was yours—at least in your mind. No one else could have him.

Hyugo was just a distraction. A nuisance. Yet, something in the way he smiled and teased made you feel strange, uneasy. He was playing his part to perfection—being the charming idiot who seemed to have everything effortlessly. While Sol stood there, looking annoyed but also strangely comfortable around him, you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort creeping up your spine.

You had to stop thinking like this. You needed control.

"Sorry about him letting you take over his responsibility," Sol said, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with an exaggerated puppy pout, his smile ripped from his face as quickly as it came.

"Why did you tell him, Y/n? See, he's so cold to me now." Hyugo's voice turned whiny as he shot a glance at Sol, clearly disappointed that his playful antics weren't having the desired effect. The pout on his face only made him look like a sad kitten, and for a moment, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

God, you’re such a mess, Y/n. You mentally scolded yourself, but it didn’t change the fact that the whole situation was starting to feel like a personal disaster.

Sol was still stoic, the ever-watchful protector in his own way, but his eyes flicked toward you momentarily. The slightest shift in his gaze sent a warm rush through you.

"Sol..." you began softly, almost shyly. You didn’t want to be too obvious, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. "Please talk to Hyugo... Whatever it is, I want to thank him for letting me meet you finally. I mean, in the process."

There it was. The one thing that had been gnawing at you for so long. You weren’t asking for much—just that Sol would acknowledge the effort Hyugo had made to bring you together, even if it was clumsy and awkward.

Hyugo, catching the tone of your voice, nudged Sol in the ribs, prompting a low groan of discomfort from the taller male. He reached up to rub Hyugo's head in a way that seemed both affectionate and exasperated, like an older brother humoring a younger one.

"Yay! Thanks for fixing our pretty friendship, Y/n!" Hyugo’s voice was light, and his smile returned as he waved to you, looking genuinely pleased with himself.

You couldn't help but smile back, the corners of your mouth curving up in something like a real, genuine smile. It’s just a smile. Just a passing moment of kindness, you told yourself.

And then everything went to hell.

"Fuck, shitty Crowe," you muttered under your breath. You felt a heavy pressure on your chest as you turned to see him standing there, looming like a shadow that had followed you from the past.

"Aren’t you coming…?" Crowe’s voice carried with a mix of awkwardness . His presence was an unwelcome interruption to your fragile little bubble of hope. "Oh! Is these your friends? I see… I’m sorry if I bothered you." He said it so casually, as if he didn’t realize the effect his presence had on you.

You locked eyes with him, your gaze sharp and accusatory. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make this worse. But the words that came out of your mouth were anything but calm.

"Which part of the line... will you not?" Your voice was tense, the words biting at the air like venom.

Everyone in the group seemed to fall into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel their eyes on you, unsure of how to react. Geo stood there like a distant figure in the background, arms crossed, a slightly irritated expression on his face, while Brittney, Deryl, and Jess exchanged looks full of concern.

You felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of their attention, and you just wanted to escape. You can’t keep running, Y/n. You can’t keep hiding.

But it wasn’t just Crowe that you wanted to avoid. It was everything. The constant nagging fear, the guilt eating at your insides. You excused yourself, muttering under your breath.

"Y/n!"

Sol’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks, his tone softer than you expected. He rushed forward, concern laced in his words.

You turned to him, your heart leaping in your chest. There was something about the way Sol looked at you now, like he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he cared enough to make sure you were alright. The chaos of the moment didn’t matter. What mattered was Sol’s gentle hand on your shoulder, the way his eyes locked with yours as if asking for permission to step closer.

You smiled at him innocently, brightly—genuinely happy for the first time in days. The way Sol rushed to you, the care in his every step, was everything you had been craving.

Hyugo, clearly noticing the shift in the air, started talking to his brother, who was still looking incredibly displeased with him. The sound of their conversation faded into the background as your world narrowed down to just you and Sol.

For a moment, everything else—Crowe, your inner demons, the tension with Hyugo—seemed like it didn’t matter.

Because Sol was there. And for once, you weren’t alone.

"Anyway! Do you have any plans, Y/n? We're planning to go to the rooftop today and eat lunch there. You wanna tag along with us?" Hyugo's voice broke through the moment, casual and carefree.

You blinked, torn between the overwhelming thoughts racing through your mind. Rooftop. It sounded like an escape, away from the chaos. Away from the suffocating noise of the cafeteria. Definitely not the cafeteria, you thought.

"...Sol, definitely not the cafeteria... right?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual but a tinge of excitement slipping through.

Sol shivered at the mention of the cafeteria, and Hyugo gave a small, nervous chuckle, clearly aware of the discomfort you both felt.

"I get it," you continued, your voice almost too smooth as you spoke. "The noise there is... discomforting. It makes me feel overwhelmed, and causes panic and anxiety... Is it like that for you too?" You didn’t mean for your words to sound the way they did—seductive, almost as if you were trying to show him that you two were alike. Definitely not faking it, you told yourself, though the tone you used felt too real. Too much.

Sol paused, his gaze shifting to you. The concern in his eyes deepened, and he nodded. He looked almost guilty, like he was worried for you. "Yeah... it is," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hyugo, scratching his head in the background, glanced at the two of you with a knowing look. He leaned over to Sol, whispering something under his breath, but you were close enough to hear.

"You two are soulmates or something? How the hell are you both so similar like this?" Hyugo's words were teasing, but the implication made your heart beat faster.

Sol's face turned a deep shade of red, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fell silent. He glanced at you for a moment, clearly flustered but still trying to keep his composure.

You smiled at him, the expression on your face twisted in something darker than it should’ve been, but Sol didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy trying to fight the blush creeping up his neck.

Your smile deepened, but Sol was too lost in his own thoughts to see the crazed gleam in your eyes. He didn’t know how much you really cared. How much you needed him.

Hyugo walked over to his usual spot, taking his seat on the bench you had grown so fond of watching from a distance. Your eyes followed him, but it wasn’t long before Sol appeared, holding a large, wrapped box in his hands—something that immediately caught your attention. You couldn’t help but glance at the box, your curiosity piqued.

Sol, sensing your gaze, turned to look at you, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked. You didn’t break the connection, your expression softening in a way that only Sol would notice. You quickly moved to sit beside him, a little too eagerly, but you didn’t care. You had waited for this moment, and now it was here.

Sol glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and the faintest curve appeared at the corner of his lips, a subtle but knowing smile. It was small, almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You pointed at the box nestled in his hands, your voice laced with quiet curiosity.

"Did you pack three bento boxes again?" you asked, the word ‘again’ slipping out before you could stop it. Sol didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the task at hand as he unwrapped the cloth.

"Could say that," he replied casually, his voice warm but detached as he opened the box. Inside, there were indeed three meticulously packed bento boxes. Sol passed one to Hyugo, and then another for himself, leaving the third.

Hyugo accepted the box with a grateful smile, thanking Sol before pulling out his chopsticks. As he opened the container, he let out a small gasp of delight, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh! The otopushes are so cute!" Hyugo exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You didn’t let him finish, jumping in with your own enthusiastic response. "Ahhh!! They're adorable!" Your voice was louder than it probably should have been, but you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were practically bouncing in place as you leaned over, almost falling into Sol’s lap in your eagerness to get a closer look at the little decorated foods.

Sol let out a yelp, caught off guard by your sudden movement, but you didn’t care. The otopushes were so cute, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how perfect they looked. You practically cooed at them, your voice a mixture of excitement and affection.

"Ahhh!!! So cute!!!" you giggled, completely enamored by the detail Sol had put into each box.

Sol’s face flushed slightly, his surprise fading as he watched you. Hyugo just chuckled, watching the scene unfold with a knowing grin. He didn’t say much, letting the moment play out, but his eyes were amused, glancing between you and Sol as he happily dug into his meal.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop smiling, your heart swelling with a strange mix of happiness and obsession. This moment, sitting beside Sol, was everything you wanted. The warmth of his presence, the quiet connection in the little things like sharing a meal together, it was everything. You let your gaze linger on him a bit longer than you should have, lost in the simple joy of being near him.

"Did you pack three bento boxes again?" you asked, the word ‘again’ slipping out before you could stop it. Sol didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the task at hand as he unwrapped the cloth.

"Could say that," he replied casually, his voice warm but detached as he opened the box. Inside, there were indeed three meticulously packed bento boxes—each a masterpiece in its own right. Sol passed one to Hyugo, and then another for himself, leaving the third—always for you.

Your heart fluttered.

Hyugo accepted the box with a grateful smile, thanking Sol before pulling out his chopsticks. As he opened the container, he let out a small gasp of delight, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh! The otopushes are so cute!" Hyugo exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Ahhh!!! So cute!!!" you giggled, completely enamored by the detail Sol had put into each box.

But you knew, deep down, this was just the beginning. And no matter how many times you found yourself in these little moments with Sol, you would always crave more. More of him. More of this closeness. More of everything. And nothing, not even your own twisted thoughts, could stop you from wanting it all.

You glanced at Sol's lunch as he opened it, noting how simple it was—a ham and cheese sandwich, neatly wrapped, but nothing too special. It made your heart ache a little. How could he not treat himself to something more? You had seen his attention to detail in the bento boxes he made for others, and yet, when it came to his own lunch, it seemed like he didn’t care as much. It was almost as if he didn’t value himself enough to do something nice.

You wanted to cook for him, to make him something special. Something as beautiful as what he put into the lunches for others. Why didn't he do that for himself?

Sol’s voice broke your thoughts.

“Did you eat today?” he asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You shook your head. “No…”

Sol’s eyes widened in surprise, and Hyugo, still mid-bite, stopped chewing, his eyes flicking between you and Sol. The sudden shift in the atmosphere wasn’t lost on you. There was a brief silence before Sol made a quick decision. Without saying anything more, he grabbed the third bento box from the cloth and placed it gently onto your lap.

You stared at the box, surprised. "Sol... it’s okay. Why do you have an extra one?"

“I thought Hyugo would finish it… plus, I didn’t like it,” he answered, his voice grumpy but soft. He looked away, clearly not wanting to explain further. His face was cute, though, flushed slightly as he tried to brush it off like it was no big deal.

But you could tell. Sol didn’t want to talk about it, but the effort he made, even in such a small way, made you feel warm. It was almost like he was giving you a piece of himself in that box.

You gently pushed it back towards him, shaking your head. “It’s okay, really…”

But Hyugo, looking a little tired himself and definitely more than a little frustrated, sighed loudly.

“For fuck sake—just eat from the same box, will ya?” he muttered, barely looking up from his meal as he poked at the food in his own bento.

Sol hesitated for a moment, his fingers gripping the fork and spoon a little too tightly, as if unsure of what to do next. The silence between you felt almost suffocating, but you could sense the tension building in the air. You decided to tease him, just to see how far you could push his patience.

You shook your head, declining the fork with a small smile. "I don't need that," you said, your voice playful, almost teasing.

Sol blinked, taken aback. "You want a spoon then? Or you could use chopsticks if you'd prefer," he offered, trying to keep his cool.

You didn’t respond to his suggestion. Instead, you looked directly into his eyes, leaning in just slightly as if to draw him closer. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, the playful innocence you tried to convey just enough to make him second-guess everything.

"Nothing of sorts," you replied cryptically, but with an intensity in your gaze that sent a shiver down his spine.

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Then what do you want?" he asked, his voice quiet, his patience running thin.

You didn’t break eye contact. In fact, you only leaned in closer, a soft but mischievous smile tugging at your lips. Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of your intention.

you said, your voice trembling with something you couldn’t quite place. "I want you to feed me."

Sol’s breath hitched. His eyes widened, the red hue of embarrassment creeping across his face at your unexpected suggestion. You could see him freeze, his body stiffening as he processed your words. He glanced at Hyugo, who was sitting beside him, but you knew Sol’s attention was solely on you now.

With puppy eyes, you repeated, "Are you going to deny me, Sol?"

You didn’t care that Hyugo was right there. You were completely focused on Sol, testing him, wanting to see how far you could push. You wanted to make him squirm, to watch his reactions to every word that came from your mouth.

Hyugo, however, was no fool. He gave you a pointed side-eye, clearly unimpressed with your antics. "Really? Right in front of my bento box?" he muttered under his breath, his judgmental stare only adding fuel to the fire. "Come on, not the time or place."

You ignored him entirely, your gaze still locked on Sol, waiting for his response. You needed to see his reaction, to make him feel something for you, anything at all.

Sol looked back at you, his expression a mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. He was silent for a few moments, and you could tell he was struggling to come up with a response. His hesitation made you even more determined. You wanted to see him squirm, to watch him struggle with your words.

Hyugo, still eyeing you both, broke the silence with a scoff. "Are you gonna keep staring at them like that, or...?"

Sol glared at Hyugo, clearly irritated. "S-Shut up, Hyugo," he muttered, his voice quiet but sharp. "I’ll feed them."

At his words, your heart skipped a beat. There it was. He had agreed, albeit reluctantly. You almost couldn’t believe it. You sat there, waiting, as Sol took the spoon from the bento box a little too harshly, as if his hands were trembling with uncertainty. He scooped up some rice, along with a piece of sausage, and held it out to you, waiting for you to open your mouth.

You stared at the spoon for a moment, confused. Was he actually going to do it? You had thought he would refuse, that he might push you away, but here he was, offering you food.

Sol’s gaze never wavered from yours, his face flushed with embarrassment and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His silence was almost maddening, but you couldn’t bring yourself to break it.

Finally, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, you leaned forward and opened your mouth. Sol hesitated for a moment longer, as if testing to see if you were serious, but then he gently placed the spoon into your mouth.

For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. It wasn’t about the food, not really. It was about the intimacy of the gesture, the closeness, the way your relationship with Sol seemed to shift with each passing second.

Hyugo, still sitting beside you both, stared at the two of you with an unimpressed expression, clearly over the scene you had created. But you didn’t care.

The bite of food melted on your tongue, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. It was delicious, but that wasn’t what had your heart racing. It was the fact that Sol, Sol, was feeding you. You wanted to scream, to shout your happiness to the world, but you kept it all in, a bubbling excitement threatening to spill out of you.

You took a moment to savor the flavor, but internally, it was like fireworks had gone off in your chest. You wanted to explode with happiness, but instead, you simply giggled. The sound escaped from you before you could stop it, a quiet, almost delirious sound of pure joy.

Inside, however, it was a different story. Your mind was screaming at you, your heart pounding in your chest like a runaway drum. Sol, Sol, Sol, I can’t believe this is happening!!! You wanted to jump up and scream it, but instead, you kicked your feet under the table in an almost childlike display of happiness.

Sol, of course, was completely oblivious to your inner chaos. He watched you for a moment, blinking in confusion. Your reaction was not what he expected, and it made him blush even harder. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to respond to your gleeful energy.

"This is so good!" you exclaimed, your voice practically sparkling with delight as you savored another bite. You couldn’t hold back your joy—it was as if every flavor came alive just for you.

Hyugo, who was absolutely stuffing his face with his bento box, looked at you with puffed-out cheeks like a hamster caught mid-feast. "I KNOW, RIGHT?!" he shouted through a mouthful of food, his enthusiasm infectious.

You chuckled at his energy, finding it oddly endearing. It made you glance back at Sol, who was eating quietly beside you. His calmness always stood out, but in this moment, it just made you feel more drawn to him.

"Sol," you said, calling his name softly. He turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet curiosity.

"You’d make such a great household husband," you teased, your tone light but your words brimming with affection.

Sol’s eyes widened at your declaration, the calm composure he usually maintained instantly crumbling. His cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red, and he quickly averted his gaze from you.

"Y-You really think so?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded with a smile, finding his reaction absolutely adorable. Sol seemed at a loss for words, his face growing even redder as he clutched his chopsticks tighter. He glanced down at his food, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words.

And then, in a voice so soft you almost missed it, you heard him mumble, "Do you... want to get married to me?"

Your heart froze. Did he just—?

Before you could even process or respond, Hyugo swooped in like a wrecking ball, loudly exclaiming, "OH, LOOK AT THAT! THE WIND IS PICKING UP! DON’T MIND ME!" He clapped his hands together and let out a nervous laugh, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Hyugo’s interruption was so sudden and dramatic that it managed to defuse the moment, at least on the surface. Sol groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, clearly mortified. "Hyugo," he muttered through gritted teeth, "shut up."

But you weren’t letting it go. Not in your heart, at least.

Inside, you were a storm of emotions, your heart screaming with uncontainable joy. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! The thought of Sol even considering marriage with you—his quiet, hesitant words—set your soul ablaze. You wanted to jump, to scream, to kiss him right then and there.

But outwardly, you kept your cool, only letting a small, soft smile curl on your lips. You didn’t want to make Sol feel awkward or embarrassed. He already looked like a beetroot—his face flushed so red it was almost glowing.

You giggled softly and focused on your bento, savoring every bite with newfound delight. It wasn’t just the food that made you happy—it was the thought of Sol, his shy demeanor, his quiet kindness, his gentle heart.

Hyugo, sensing the charged atmosphere, leaned back and continued devouring his food with an exaggerated nonchalance

Meanwhile, Sol stayed silent, his gaze fixated on his lap as he fiddled with his SPOON.

Hyugo leaned back on the bench with a dramatic flourish, his arms spread wide as if making a grand announcement. “Let me tell you something, Y/n,” he began, his voice loud and playful, “Sol here? He’s not just a pretty face, no, no, no! He’s a complete package. The guy can cook, clean, organize, you name it! Total husband material! You’d think he was trained for this or something. Honestly, if I were into dudes, I’d have already proposed!”

You blinked at him, taken aback by his sheer enthusiasm. Hyugo’s grin widened, clearly enjoying himself as he continued his sales pitch. “Need someone to whip up gourmet-level meals? Sol’s your guy. Want your apartment to look spotless and smell like fresh lavender? Sol’s already on it. I mean, the man even folds his laundry so neatly it looks like art. ART!”

Sol let out a groan, covering his face with one hand. "Hyugo, stop it."

“Stop what?” Hyugo said innocently, clasping his hands together. “I’m just stating facts! You’re like the dream husband everyone wants, and I’m just letting Y/n know how much of a catch you are! You should be thanking me!”

“Thanking you for what?” Sol snapped, his tone sharp but his lips curving into an amused smile despite himself. “For making me sound like your personal butler? No thanks.”

Hyugo pouted, crossing his arms. “That’s not what I’m saying at all! It’s a compliment, you ungrateful perfectionist!” He jabbed a finger in Sol’s direction, his cheeks puffed in mock indignation.

Sol finally broke into a soft laugh, his irritation melting away. His eyes sparkled with that rare warmth, and the corners of his lips lifted into the gentlest of smiles. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks for your glowing review, Hyugo.”

Their banter felt so natural, so effortless, like a glimpse into the depth of their friendship. It warmed your heart to see them like this—to see Sol smile like that, carefree and genuine. His laughter was soft, but it echoed in your mind, filling you with a quiet, radiant joy.

Your gaze lingered on him, watching how the sunlight hit his face, how his expression softened when he looked at Hyugo. You loved him—deeply, irrevocably. The realization hit you again, as powerful as the first time. You wanted this light in your life. You wanted him.

Sol had gone unusually quiet, his gaze distant as if lost in a maze of his own thoughts. You tilted your head, curiosity tugging at you. Something was off.

"Sol," you called softly, your voice breaking through his reverie. "You okay there?"

His body jolted slightly, like he'd been startled back into reality. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine, Y/n." He forced a small smile, but his eyes betrayed him—there was something unsettled swimming beneath the surface. "Perfectly fine." He repeated the words, but this time there was an unmissable hesitation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, concern creeping in. "Are you sure? You seem... distracted."

He cleared his throat abruptly, sitting up straighter as if to compose himself. For a moment, he seemed ready to speak, but instead, he mumbled something under his breath. The words were faint, but they lingered in the air just enough for you to catch: "...like him..."

You leaned in slightly, brows furrowing. "What was that?"

He avoided your gaze for a second before finally turning to you, his expression guarded but laced with something else—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. "That person," he began carefully, his voice quieter than usual. "The one with braids."

Braids? It took you a second, but then it clicked. Crowe. Why would Sol be asking about him? The thought made you tense.

"Crowe... Ichabod? What about him?" you asked cautiously. You didn’t miss the flicker of something in Sol’s eyes at the mention of Crowe’s name—a fleeting darkness that made the air around him feel heavier.

He took a breath, his voice steady but low. "Yeah. Him." His tone carried a weight that made you sit up straighter. "Can I ask you something?"

Your confusion deepened, but you nodded. "Go ahead," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to catch him off guard; his body stiffened for a moment before relaxing under your hand.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. His lips parted, and the question slipped out, almost too quiet to hear: "Do you... like him?"

The question struck you like a thunderclap. Your mind reeled. Why was he asking this? Why did it matter to him? The intensity in his gaze, the slight clench of his jaw—it wasn’t just idle curiosity. It was something deeper. Something raw.

"I..." You faltered for a moment, searching for words.

Seeing your daze, you turned your head to Sol. His expression was dark, a shadow falling over his features, but his eyes gleamed unnaturally bright against the gloom. He said nothing, his gaze locked on the ground as if avoiding yours entirely.

"You don't have to say," he muttered, voice low and strained. His grip on the bento box in his lap tightened, the edges digging into his palms, and you noticed his fingers turning pale from the pressure.

Is he… jealous? The thought ignited something in you, a twisted kind of satisfaction at the possibility, but it was tempered by the sight of him like this—silent, tense, and clearly battling his emotions. Your obsession screamed at you to push it further, to see how much he’d unravel for you, but... you didn’t.

Not this time.

You didn’t want him to suffer under the weight of his feelings, even if they mirrored the toxic depths of your own. There was some sliver of humanity left in you, wasn’t there? Maybe. Or maybe it was simply because seeing Sol unhappy made your chest ache, and all you wanted was to see that gentle smile return.

Because you loved him. You loved him in a way that no one else could. In a way that bordered on madness. But you also wanted him to love you freely, without the pain etched across his face now.

Toxic? Yes. You were fully aware of it. You always had been.

But at least you could choose not to trigger him—at least, not intentionally. Not when you could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts. He was waiting for an answer, bracing himself for something he clearly didn’t want to hear.

You looked at Sol, who was still gripping his bento box tightly, his knuckles pale. His jaw was set, and his eyes burned with an intensity that pinned you in place. This was not a side of him you saw often. Sol, with his quiet strength, always seemed above emotions like jealousy. But here he was—hissing softly under his breath, his lips barely moving as if he were mumbling something to himself.

He thought you still liked Crowe, didn’t he?

You let out a small sigh, leaning back slightly to gather your thoughts. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap, and you glanced at Sol again. His gaze was fixated on the ground, but his attention was wholly on you. The air felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension.

"Sol," you began softly, "about Crowe…"

That got his attention. His head tilted just enough for his eyes to flick toward you, the glint in them sharp, cautious. You pressed on, voice steady but quiet.

"During the first semester… there was this incident." You hesitated, feeling the memories resurface. "Crowe saved me. I don’t mean in some big, dramatic way, but he was there when I needed someone. And for a while… I liked him. A lot."

Sol’s eyes narrowed, his lips curving downward as he let out a quiet, almost inaudible hiss. The sound made your heart clench—not out of fear, but because you hated seeing him this way. Still, you pushed forward.

"I liked him because he was nice," you admitted, your voice calm but tinged with something heavier. Sol’s head dipped slightly, his bangs falling over his face, and you saw his hands tremble just a bit.

You took a breath, letting the words pour out before he could spiral further. "But you know what? I hate nice people."

That startled him. His head snapped up, his eyes widening just enough to show his surprise. You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, feeling your chest tighten as you spoke.

"I hate nice people because… if they so much as say hello to me, it stays on my mind. If they return my texts, my heart races. The day they call me? I’d probably replay that conversation in my head for days. But I know—deep down—I know it’s just them being nice. Nothing more."

Sol’s lips parted as if to say something, but he stayed silent, his gaze locked onto yours. There was something raw in his expression now, something vulnerable.

"And Crowe?" you continued, your smile growing faint, almost brittle. "He’s the same. He’s kind to everyone. He sees the good in people, always. That’s just who he is. And you know what? If the truth is cruel, then kindness is a lie. Because lies are meant for kindness."

You stopped, swallowing hard as you felt the sting of unshed tears. Sol’s gaze softened, though his body remained tense. He wasn’t interrupting, wasn’t looking away. He was listening.

"I gave up," you admitted, your voice quieter now. "I gave up on wanting things like that. Someone who’s just nice to me because it’s what they do? It’s not enough. I wanted someone to love me. Not out of pity or kindness. But because they saw something in me—something worth loving. And if they did? If they loved me… I’d give everything to them."

Sol’s breath hitched audibly at that. You didn’t look at him, afraid that meeting his eyes would unravel you completely. Instead, you stared at your hands, voice trembling as you finished.

"No matter how… strange the love might be," you said faintly, "I’d love them back. Because they found something in me. Because they wanted happiness… with me."

You paused, letting the silence stretch between you both for a moment. When you finally looked up, Sol was staring at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes glistening with an intensity that made your heart ache.

"So, to answer your question, Sol…" you said softly, meeting his gaze head-on. "No. I don’t like Crowe. Not anymore. We even had a fight yesterday, and honestly? I’m done with it. I’m done with him."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Sol’s shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in his posture easing, though his expression remained serious. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line instead.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as the weight of everything you just said hung in the air. The truth had tumbled out so effortlessly, yet it felt heavy, like you’d cracked open a part of yourself you hadn’t meant to. Sol was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes… they stayed on you, unwavering, as if he was waiting for something.

"It’s so shitty, isn’t it?" you muttered, your voice low but trembling with emotion. "How people like me… how we think. It’s exhausting. I hate how my mind works—getting attached so easily, overthinking every little thing. Crowe just smiles or says hi, and suddenly it’s like I’ve written a whole future in my head. Like I matter to him. Like I’m… special."

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. "But it’s not real. It never is. And then I get angry at myself for even hoping it could be. It’s stupid, you know? Wanting to mean something to someone who probably doesn’t even remember I exist half the time."

Sol flinched, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. His hands rested on his knees, gripping his pants tightly as if grounding himself. Hyugo, on the other hand, looked away awkwardly, the tension thick enough to make even him fidget.

"And the worst part?" you continued, your voice rising just slightly before falling into a strained whisper. "It’s like… I know better. I know that people like Crowe aren’t bad, that they’re just being themselves. But it still feels like shit. It feels like a cruel joke. Because I can’t stop myself from wanting to matter to someone like that. And every time I realize I don’t? It’s like I lose another piece of myself."

You finally looked up at Sol, your eyes locking onto his. His expression was softer now, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. His gaze held a storm of emotions—anger, sadness, and something else that made your heart twist.

"I hate how pathetic this all sounds," you admitted, your voice cracking. "But it’s the truth. And the truth is cruel."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Hyugo, who always had something to say, stayed quiet. Sol finally moved, shifting slightly closer to you. His hand hovered near yours, hesitating for a moment before his fingers brushed against yours lightly, grounding you in the moment.

"You’re not pathetic," Sol said, his voice low but firm. "Don’t ever call yourself that."

His words were simple, but the weight behind them made your chest tighten. He looked at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his crimson-and-orange eyes burning into yours like they could see every hidden part of you.

"You just… want to be seen," he added, his tone softer now, almost tender. "That’s not pathetic, Y/n. That’s human."

".....When will you let me see you...?" You asked quietly, Sol didn't catch it.

You shifted in your seat, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. The mood had gotten heavy, and you were desperate for some levity. "So, Sol," you began, your tone light and teasing, "surely you must like someone, right? Spill it!"

Sol raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling into that mischievous smirk you knew all too well—the one that appeared when he thought he had the upper hand. It was the same smirk he gave you when he thought you were fast asleep, his arms wrapped around you tighter than they needed to be. It made your chest flutter in ways you couldn’t admit out loud.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Why? You interested?"

Your eyes widened, your entire face heating up as you puffed out your cheeks in frustration. "W-What?! No! That’s not what I—ugh! Sol!" You stammered, flailing your hands as you tried to recover, but the damage was done.

The grin on his face widened, and for a brief moment, he chuckled—a rare, soft sound that made your heart skip a beat. His teasing facade cracked just a little as he looked at you with those piercing eyes, the playful glint fading into something warmer, softer. "So cute," he murmured, almost too quietly for you to catch.

Almost.

You did catch it, though, and your brain immediately short-circuited. Your chest tightened, and your legs wobbled as if your body couldn’t handle the sheer force of him. You could feel the heat radiating off your face, your heart pounding like it was trying to escape your ribcage.

Did he just—? Did Sol—?

Your vision swam for a moment, and before you knew it, you were swaying. "Whoa, Y/n!" Sol’s voice snapped you back as he reached out, catching you before you could fully tip over. His hands were firm and steady on your shoulders, his eyes wide with genuine concern. "Are you okay?"

Hyugo had stopped mid-bite, his hamster cheeks full of rice as he looked at you, clearly worried. "Y/n, you’re as red as a tomato! Do we need to call someone?"

"I-I’M FINE!" you squeaked, quickly sitting upright as you waved your hands frantically to dispel their concern. "Seriously, I’m okay!" But your face betrayed you, still hot and crimson as you avoided Sol’s gaze.

Sol narrowed his eyes at you, skeptical but letting it slide—for now. "You sure? You looked like you were about to faint." His voice was soft again, the teasing edge gone, replaced with something closer to worry.

"I’m fine!" you repeated, louder this time. Then, in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over the situation "Your cooking is good!"

Hyugo gave a knowing nod, stuffing another bite into his own mouth. "I know, right? Sol’s cooking is unbeatable!"

You smiled at Hyugo before turning your attention back to Sol, who was still holding the spoon, his face carefully neutral despite the redness creeping up his neck. "You’d make a great househusband, Sol," you teased, your tone light but sincere. "Seriously, whoever ends up with you is gonna be so lucky."

Sol’s eyes widened at your words, his grip on the spoon faltering slightly. "You… really think so?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his gaze.

You nodded earnestly. "Of course! You’re amazing, Sol."

For a moment, he was silent, his face an even deeper shade of red as he seemed to grapple with something. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he mumbled under his breath, "It's for you..I.."

Before you could fully process his words, Hyugo loudly cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing at Sol like he was trying to keep him from saying anything else. "I know right!"

Sol shot him a glare but complied, scooping up another bite and holding it out to you. You leaned forward eagerly, biting down on the spoon and savoring the taste. Inside, your heart was doing somersaults, screaming, AHHHHHHHHHHH SOL SOL SOLLL!!!

You kicked your feet under the table, your cheeks hurting from how wide you were smiling. Sol, despite his earlier embarrassment, couldn’t help but smile back at you, his expression softening once more.

This was perfect.

You leaned back, taking a break from the spoonful of food you’d just been fed, your mind racing with curiosity. "So… is this what you two do? You just feed each other like this every day?" you asked, playing it innocent, though you were secretly enjoying the chaos you were stirring.

Sol raised an eyebrow, looking slightly irritated but amused. "Hyu—" he paused, glancing at Hyugo, who was currently munching on his food like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. "Hyugo forgets his lunch sometimes," Sol explained, "Then I end up sharing mine with him."

Hyugo’s face instantly puffed up in indignation, pouting like a child caught in the act. "Hey! I don’t forget my lunch," he snapped, his voice muffled by the rice in his mouth. "It’s just... I’m busy! Plus, I can always count on Sol to feed me."

"Whatever, Sol," Hyugo muttered, crossing his arms as he slouched back. "I’m just looking for inspiration. You wouldn’t understand."

You giggled, watching the playful banter unfold. There was something about the dynamic between the two of them that made you feel warm inside. "Speaking of inspiration," you turned to Sol, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Where do you get the inspiration for these bento art pieces? They’re incredible. Do you just, like, think of it off the top of your head?"

Hyugo perked up, looking at you as if you’d asked the most obvious question. "Oh, you didn’t know?" he said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Of course you know! Sol’s like the art guy in our class. He’s always been into making everything a piece of art—even his cooking. That’s why he learned to cook so well. He doesn’t just want to feed people, he wants them to experience it, you know?"

Sol’s face softened for a moment at Hyugo’s words, a small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked almost shy when he responded. "I guess... I like cute things."

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. "Cute things? Like… what kind of cute things?" you asked, curious.

"Like," Hyugo chimed in with a smirk, "cute food, cute animals, cute people... you name it. Sol’s a sucker for anything that’s adorable. Like the way he stares at that stuffed horse plushie all the time—"

At that, you paused, eyes widening. "Wait, what? You have a stuffed horse?" You knew it.

Sol's face immediately turned bright red, and he let out an exasperated sigh. "No! I do not have a stuffed horse." He crossed his arms tightly, glaring at you and Hyugo. "And I’m not answering that."

You grinned, fully entertained. "Aww, come on, Sol. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not tell me the name of your precious horse plush. What’s it called?"

"I said no," Sol growled, looking away with a flushed face. He looked so cute when he was flustered, and you couldn’t resist teasing him further.

The conversation took a turn for the darker after that. You, Sol, and Hyugo sat quietly, watching as a group of high-class individuals walked by. Sol was the first to break the silence, his eyes narrowed in distaste. He muttered under his breath, "Tch, high-class mugs."

You didn’t reply to Sol’s remark. Instead, you focused on the scene before you. There was something about the way they carried themselves—so poised, so perfect—that made everything feel distant. A cold knot settled in your chest.

Hyugo then, told abut learned about Hierarchy, High class.

Hyugo noticed the shift in your demeanor and turned to you, his usual warmth gone, replaced with concern. "Hey, you okay?" he asked gently.

You didn’t respond immediately. Your thoughts drifted, and you suddenly recalled the dream—the one that haunted you for years. Four years ago. You couldn’t shake the feeling it was all connected somehow.

Hyugo seemed to sense your unease. He raised an eyebrow, his voice quieter. "Let me guess... It's something you can't avoid?" he asked, almost like he already knew the answer.

You exhaled slowly, your thoughts heavy. "I honestly don't know... My father never really explained why we were in debt," you murmured. "I was just desperate not to lose our home... three jobs, giving out personal information... Everything was hard, and we weren’t getting enough money." You trailed off, feeling the weight of it all again.

Silence fell between you, the heavy atmosphere surrounding you like a fog. It felt like there was something more you couldn’t escape, something always lurking in the back of your mind. Something you had to do, but you couldn’t figure out how.

After a moment, you looked up, meeting Hyugo’s concerned gaze. "My father owns a farm down south," you said, trying to sound casual. "Not much—just horses, cows, maybe some wheat."

Hyugo’s eyes lit up at that. "Horses? Sol would love that place!" he said, his smile bright and eager. "Hey, you should take me and Sol sometime! We could check it out!"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’ll count on it."

Hyugo leaned back, still looking thoughtful. "You’ve been away from home for a long time... don’t you miss it?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You shook your head slowly. "Not really," you said, the words feeling strange even as they left your lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss the familiarity of home, but the things you’d left behind felt like a distant memory now.

Hyugo smiled softly, a look of understanding in his eyes. "You remind me of them," he said, almost to himself.

"Who?" you asked, confused.

Hyugo looked a little flustered. "Ah, nothing, nothing!" He quickly recovered with a smile. "I was rambling, forget about it."

You gave him a curious glance but didn’t press him further.

You felt a chill run down your spine as you noticed Sol standing behind you, casting a glance at Hyugo. It wasn’t just any look; it was a glare. A look full of irritation and... jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk under your breath. "God, for real," you mumbled, feeling amused. "His jealousy is off the charts..."

You couldn’t resist letting out a quiet giggle. It was nice knowing that Sol cared, even if his emotions were all over the place. It was just another reminder that you had control—well, a little.

Hyugo, unaware of the silent tension between you and Sol, waved his hands at both of you, his usual cheerfulness cutting through the mood. "Come on, you two, let’s get going!" he said, already moving towards the stairs.

You and Sol exchanged a brief look before both of you nodded and followed him.

you walked down the stairs, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The wobbly steps beneath you made each movement feel uncertain. You caught a glimpse of Sol’s gaze, and for a moment, he looked at you like he was weighing something. His expression darkened just slightly.

You almost didn’t notice the step beneath you, and before you could steady yourself, your foot slipped, sending you off balance. You gasped in surprise, but just as quickly, a hand gripped your waist and another caught you by the back.

Sol’s voice sounded beside your ear, his surprise evident. "Y/n!" he called, his body pressing against yours to steady you. His chest was right against your back, and the warmth from his body wrapped around you like a comfort, even as his hand gripped your waist a little tighter, keeping you from falling completely.

You winced slightly as your foot throbbed in pain, but you didn’t want to let go of the moment. His touch felt so steady, so protective. "Ouch..." you whimpered softly, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice.

Sol’s face softened as he leaned down, his breath grazing your neck as he whispered, "Be careful, Y/n..." The concern in his voice melted your heart, and you almost forgot about the pain in your foot, focused instead on how close he was to you.

You felt his grip tighten, pulling you even closer against him, and you couldn’t help but sigh, your heart racing. You made sure to let yourself fall just a little more into him, your body practically melting against his. His hand never left your waist, and the contact sent shivers down your spine.

Hyugo’s voice suddenly broke the moment, his tone annoyed. "Fuck this school," he muttered, glancing back at you two, clearly fed up with the situation.

Sol’s grip didn’t falter. "It's forbidden for you to come here," he said sharply, his voice laced with an authority that almost made you feel like it was a command. Hyugo let out a dramatic laugh and darted down the stairs, running ahead. "We're troublemakers."

Sol glanced at you, his face still slightly anxious. "Let’s get you down the stairs," he said, his hand continuing to rest on your waist. He helped you walk, his touch so gentle but firm, making you feel both cared for and... completely loved.

You acted a little more helpless than you needed to, making sure your steps were slow, and your foot hurt just enough for him to keep holding you. Each time he adjusted his grip, you felt your heart flutter. His hand was warm against your skin, and it didn’t leave your waist—not once. Every time he touched you, you felt like you could melt into him. It was hard not to feel a little love-sick with the way he held you so closely, the way he seemed so intent on making sure you were okay, even if it was just walking down a set of stairs.

#visual novel #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb sol #tkatb x reader #solivan brugmansia #solvian x reader #sol x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol x reader

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petriwriting · 23 hours ago

Text

Swimming Lessons - JJ Maybank X Reader

Request.

A/N: This was so cute...

Growing up in the outerbanks and being unable to swim was hysterically ironic. You enjoyed the pool, and the beach as long as the water wasn't too deep. You liked baths, hot tubs and jacuzzis, but for some reason you just never learned how to swim properly, which raised an insecurity that you couldn't swim. Of course, naturally everyone can swim, but the thought of the darkness undernarth you and the absence of the grounding earth under your feet, it was absolutely terrifying. But, you were willing to learn.

"JJ I can't swim."

you protest, it's the evening, the air is warm and humid and the sea breeze has a slight chill. JJ holds you, bridal style over the water.

"JJ I'm serious!" you say louder, growing scared as he carries you into deeper water, it's now waist length deep for him. He's still standing, which means you could too, but it is a bit scary since you can't swim. Your bottom starts to meet the cold water and you squeal. "Hey I got you," JJ says with a laugh. you hold onto him tighter. "I don't understand how you can do this for fun." you say.

"Swimming is boring, wait till I can show you how to surf. You'll be flying across those waves." He jokes continuously. He pretended to drop you and laughed it off again, enjoying your nervous laughter and smile. You protest one more time. "JJ I can't swim." you say serious this time, your tone sobering up. "And I told you I won't let you drown," he says sternly. you sigh in defeat. He gently puts you down, slightly deeper than before, your chest is met with the chilly ocean water and sea foam. "This.. isn't too bad." you say, you are simply standing in the sand, not really swimming.

Before you can say anything else a huge wave crashes over you, sending you hurdling into JJ who holds you still. "Oh my god," you exclaim. "That was scary," you sigh, pushing your wet hair out of your face. "Babe, it's the ocean. there will be waves." JJ says, with a look. "They aren't even that bad today. this is pretty calm." he reassures you.

"Alright, let's try this." he insists. "Float on your back, just to practice." he instructs, you follow suit hesitantly and do as he says. you are floating on your back, or trying to at least. There is comfort in knowing you can easily stand if you need to. "Hey," he says, his eyes are looking deep into yours. It's a sweet moment. "I got you." he says gently.

You try again, one more time until you are comfortably floating on your back in JJ's arms. He cheers you on encouragingly. "one more time, ok?" he asks. "This time you gotta close your eyes. I'll be right here, promise." he says. you begin to float on your back the same as before. you keep your eyes open for as long as you can until he is insistent you close them. Darkness. you feel the flow of the waves, and are relaxed and amazed by the ocean and how she carries you and cradles you as if you're a baby. you got a glimpse of why JJ and his friends loved surfing and swimming so much. It was comforting. It felt safe.

You open your eyes and you have drifted and floated out further than you would have liked, JJ's arms are not beneath you and you begin to panic, your feet can't feel the sand beneath them, terrified, you remembered everything JJ had told you about swimming. "It's as easy as breathing, you'll know what to do. It's an instinct."

You look up and see JJ has swam out closer to the shore and is waiting and watching for you. You are slightly angry he broke the promise but you swim towards him and before you know it you're swimming. He claps and cheers for you. "You got this!" you swim right up to him and pull him under the water. swimming now feels effortless. He got you out of your comfort zone.

"Nice try you can't drown me i'm a strong swimmer," He jokes. The two of you race to the shore and you chase him up onto the beach until you're both exhausted and laying on the sand. "JJ," you say finally after some silence. "Thank you for teaching me to swim." you say. "Nah, don't thank me. you did all the work," he smirks, looking down at your lips for a pause and then kissing you tenderly.

#reader insert #my writing #x reader #jj obx imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj malibu #onx #obx jj #jj obx #requet #requets #requested

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daisymbin · 7 hours ago

Text

[00:24] - jeon wonwoo

a/n: amidst the sadness, an idea came and I just had to 🤷‍♀️ not proofread!!! + I am drowsy, hopefully there's not too many errors.

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

"wonwoo," you whispered as you forced your eyes to peek open despite the exhaustion, "will you still read me to sleep when we're both 80, old, and grey?"

wonwoo chuckles, he closes the book in his lap shut, putting it on the bedside table as he removes his glasses and places them on top of the book & dims the lights. "i think the better question is if I can still see when I'm 80, or if I'm even alive!" he laughs a sound so deep your stomach flutters.

"wonwoo! why would you say that?" you whined as you lightly pushed his hand away in faux defiance.

"what?—I'm just being realistic!" he said a little too defensively, but wonwoo cant help the biggest shit-eating grin that makes its way to his face when he watches as your eyes light up in annoyance.

"do you have to be like that all the time? can't we play pretend? that we're 80, old and grey and healthy?" you asked as you turn slightly to look at him.

"if that's the case, then..." he trails off as he pulls you a little closer, just a little, just enough to close the gap between the two of you. he slides his hand down your arm till they reach your hand, interlocking your fingers, "I'd read to you every night 'till death do us apart."

you're certain you can trace the small curve on wonwoo's lips despite the dim lights.

"till death do us apart," you whispered it like it was a sacred promise.

"till death do us apart." wonwoo echoes, as if acknowledging this sacred promise.

a smile tugs at your lips when you feel the soft warmth of wonwoo's lips against your racing temple; your thoughts scatter away with the night wind.

"I love you," you both say at the same time, a sudden freeze in the room.

"I love you too," you both say at the same time.

wonwoo laughs as he pulled the blankets up and tugged you flush against his warm body. an arm goes around you as you settle your head on his chest; the steady rhythm of his heartbeat hypnotising you instantly.

"goodnight, wonwoo."

"goodnight, sleepyhead. I love you, so much."

a kiss on his cheek is the last thing wonwoo feels against his skin as he closes his eyes and moves to cuddle you fully, a smile on his lips as he snuggles further into your hair, breathing you in. & "i love you, wonwoo." is the last thing wonwoo hears before he drifts off to sleep.

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lu-is-not-ok · 2 days ago

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Hello there! My friend introduced me to the Daiyu/Baoyu theory recently and I repaid them by immediately becoming crazy about Soda Hong Lu. Have you looked at Soda Hong Lu in the lens of this theory? Because half joking about this:

1. It is the only EGO that I can recall that features a transformation type sequence

2. In the corrosion, two shrimps attempt to check on the hallucinating Hong Lu/Body; he destroys them in the frenzy

3. It is an EGO that Hong Lu strangely has no Identities for in regards to archetype, Poise, and is one of the EGO for which Hong Lu has a dull eye. (Next Walpur might outdate this one but still squinting at it)

4. It is an Envy EGO, the sin associated with. Yknow.

5. In the pull animation, a shrimp is inexplicably focused on, crying from the same side Hong Lu's jade eye is on.

Idk if this is totally out of the ballpark here, but I'm seeing Soda as an EGO that represents Daiyu being dragged onto the 'boat', that being the family, as Baoyu guiltily observes, barely keeping it together under the idea that the 'boat' is the "better life" as seen on the log for Wellcheers in LCorp. They want to be able to pretend that the transformation is something that'll bring them fortune, just another process in the façade, but as the corrosion shows, one slip will doom them into inconsolable panic. It is an EGO that demands you provide to the group, but it is hanging by a thread. Do you see my logic. Shrimp Jia Family.

So, I'm gonna put it this way.

The things you pointed out about Soda? Huge. Like, they do definitely point towards something and I have my own interpretation of them to share.

Your interpretation of the EGO... I feel like it misses the mark a bit, but that's okay, because it very much can still be about the Two in One Daiyu Baoyu of it all in a way, thanks to the things you pointed out.

Let me explain.

Soda, both for Ryoshu and Hong Lu, is symbolic for their escapism, while also having some major themes of Reality/Fiction.

To briefly show what I mean by explaining Ryoshu's Soda - her form of escapism is that of indulging in the cruel Reality. Note how her Soda focuses on the Wellcheers drink itself - she uses the soda itself to attack, and in the corrosion she turns into the soda as well. Her EGO focuses on the cruel Reality that Wellcheers is a soda company that only cares about people consuming their product, she literally forces her target to drink it in her Awakening animation. Her Corrosion then focuses on the Fictionalization of that Reality, on the rumors that the soda can lead you to wake up on a ship in the middle of an ocean.

This isn't a Ryoshu post though, so if any Ryoshu scholars want to add onto this with their own interpretation of how that connects to Ryoshu's art and how she wishes to reflect reality in all its cruelty, be my guests.

Now, back to Hong Lu's Soda - for him, escapism is the reverse. He indulges in Fiction, his EGO reflecting the life shown in hypothetical Wellcheers' advertisements, happily fishing for shrimp among prawn on a ship in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by seagulls. Then, his Corrosion is the Realization of that Fiction, of what it would be like to actually live on a ship like that, having to hear seagulls scream and run away from you.

And this is where the details you pointed out come in. Because they made me realize something.

The 'Fiction' being symbolized by Soda? It's Hong Lu's current life as 'Hong Lu'.

Here's the thing about the Daiyu Baoyu theory - one of its many parts is that Hong Lu as a person does not exist. 'Hong Lu' is a fake persona. He's not a real person with an actual history, it's a character made up and played by Baoyu to cope with being forced to override Daiyu.

After all, it's not until after Canto 4, where Hong Lu becomes aware of Yi Sang's attempts of calling for help, that he starts actually saying concerning things. Until then he's tried his fucking hardest to make it seem like his homelife is as uneventful as a sheltered rich kid's homelife could be, with the anecdotes only getting more and more actually fucked up when it became clear his turn drew closer. Perhaps because that's what Hong Lu as an act was originally supposed to be - a rich kid like Baoyu but without his baggage, without his trauma. Until he started getting desperate and realizing that he too needs help, but couldn't ask directly without revealing he'd been lying this whole time, so instead he's sprinkling in more and more concerning things hoping Someone Will Get The Hint.

That little tangent aside, I believe this is what the magical girl transformation in the Awakening is meant to symbolize - Baoyu indulging in the Fiction of his new made up persona that is Hong Lu. After all, if you think about it, isn't it a common trope in magical girl shows for the girls to use pseudonyms and keep their true identities secret while transformed? Isn't that exactly what Baoyu is doing while he's acting as Hong Lu?

With that in mind, the prawn that gets focused on in the acquisition animation, the one randomly crying out of the equivalent of Hong Lu's jade eye, could be a little reference to the fact that under the act Baoyu is Fucking Miserable.

And then there's the matter of the ship. If the transformation sequence is a reflection of Baoyu becoming Hong Lu, then what is the ship about?

...It's the bus. The ship is Limbus Company's Bus.

Soda as an E.G.O symbolizes Baoyu's escapism via becoming Hong Lu aboard Limbus Company's Bus, getting carried around to "fish for shrimp" or perhaps hunt for Boughs.

Then there's the Corrosion. The seagulls screaming and crying all around him. The genuine anxiety and panic in his voice (listen to the original file for the voiceline without the effects if you can btw, it's so well acted - you can find it in the Organized Assets drive). The way others try to check up on him and he instead lashes out at them. How the animation seems to purposefully hide the actual enemies being hit so that it seems on first glance like the only things he's attacking are fellow prawn.

Ya'll... this could be another Distortion foreshadowing. Think about it. The realization that his escapist Fiction isn't enough, that the horrible reality he's living in has started to poke through and scream at him and cry at him. And the resulting breakdown causing him to lash out indiscriminately. ...Doesn't that sound like something that could happen with a Distortion?

Alternately, it could simply be a way to show in general what would happen once the act is stripped from Hong Lu. The fear, the panic. The pushing others away. A representation of someone whose escapism is a defense mechanism, and who, upon being stripped of it, cannot handle reality.

So, sorry to say Shrimp Jia Family is likely not the case. Thankfully, we can have the alternative of Shrimp Sinners.

On the other hand, here's a fun semi-related fun fact: the Sin Affinities of the Soda EGOs could in part be references to the two work types you can perform on the Abno to get the grape soda! Gloom representing Repression work, and Envy representing Attachment work. Neat, huh?

#anon #ask #lu speaketh #limbus company #hong lu #hong lu lcb #soda hong lu #lcb analysis #lcb speculation

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certifiedsexed · 1 day ago

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Is it okay to have preferences for how people refer to your genitals? I'm an intersex trans man who's just started having casual sex (FWB type thing) but the terms I prefer seems to be causing issues :(

I've realized I genuinely hate when people call my junk a tdick or boypussy/boycunt/etc (it makes me really dysphoric), but that's all my sexual partners ever want to use. I tried asking if they would just call it a dick/cock (and hole, I guess) but I've been shut down every time because they say I shouldn't deny what junk I "actually have" and that I shouldn't feel weird about using language that's specifically for trans men and transmascs. One person said I'm just making myself more dysphoric by "pretending I'm a cis man", even though that's not what I'm trying to do. Most of these folks are trans too so I thought they'd be understanding but they've been really resistant so now I'm worried I'm just making unreasonable demands :(

Absolutely! It's actually fairly common in the trans community, specifically, but it's a perfectly acceptable preference regardless.

What you're experiencing is transphobia and possibly intersexism, depending. The language they're offering is lovely, for people who want to use it, but it doesn't just apply to all transmasc people. It's for transmasc people who want to use it.

Trying to force you to use it, by claiming that you're in denial of your own body is absurdly transphobic and just generally rude, not to mention inaccurate.

Using the term "tdick" to refer to your dick and then saying they can't use "dick or cock" because that wouldn't be correct isn't how those terms even work. It's often called a tdick because it's a dick, grown using testosterone.

It's still a dick/cock, you asking people to use those terms isn't even inaccurate.

Neither is "hole". Everyone has fucking holes, if you don't want to get specific because it causes dysphoria, there's no problem with that. It's not like your partners are going to be confused and even if they were, it's easy to clear up.

It's your body. You can call your body parts whatever you want. Accurate or inaccurate. And if you're having sex and people are referring to your body parts, it's perfectly fine to have a preference for what terms they use, especially if certain terms make you feel bad.

That's not internalized transphobia or whatever these people are thinking. It's just a preference. A perfectly fine preference.

Maybe this is harsh of me but the people you're having sex with are assholes and are quite literally being transphobic/intersexist.

What you're asking for is very simple and completely fine. It costs them nothing. You're not making unreasonable demands; they're reacting unreasonably.

Not sure how helpful this is, Anon, but let me know if you have any other questions. <3 I'm sorry you're dealing with all this bullshit.

#sex education #asks #sex tips #consent 101 #transphobia #intersexism #transmasc education

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ri-writes-if · 2 days ago

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Hi! I just found your story and I love it, so I was reading all the asks 🤣 for the "save MC or the world" I wanted to ask, if after years (a century? Enough that their mind is "stable") that the ROs saved the world, while on a trip they see MC alive in the "country side", what do they do? Do they think they are immagining things, do they try to find MC? If they decide to look for them and they meet MC, what would they do if they find out that MC doesn't recognize/remember them (MC almost died and lost their memories)? MC now lives a quiet life with the one who saved/healed them (not clear if they are romantically or platonically involved with each other, but they are very very close). Do they try to get MC remember them, do they try to restart all from the start, do they leave MC there and go back?

The mentioned scenario

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story 💛

What a curious ask 👀

Vez knows it's you, but they want to make sure they're not mistaking someone else for you, so they'll come to talk to you. Upon realizing you don't remember them and figuring out you're not pretending, they hide their pain behind a smile and bid your goodbye. They'll arrange for someone to protect you, but they'll never go to you again, believing that they wasted all their chances with you when they sacrificed you. They don't deserve you, and you'll be better off finding happiness somewhere else. Better even if with someone else. If you ever has problems with something, they'll help you from the shadows, never revealing their involvement and identity. You still will be a part of their life, though you won't know about it.

Os doesn't believe it's you at first. Surely they're mistaken. They walk away, but the memory keeps pestering them, so they halt and run back to where they saw you. They don't know what to say to you, so they carefully observe you from afar before gathering courage to approach you. When they realize you don't remember them, they once again are thrown into utter confusion. Do they let you go? Do they try to remind you of them? But they sacrificed you. Would you want to be with them after all of that? They won't be able to decide at the moment, so they'll need time to think it over. Ultimately, they'll decide to let you go, but they last long. They want you in their life, in any way you can be, so they'll approach you again and try to befriend you. They won't let you come too close to them, however, because they don't want to hurt you again.

Laz thinks they're hallucinating, though they shouldn't. They're stable now. Which means you're real. Which is impossible. They follow you around, observing your behavior intently, like a hunter hunting its prey. They won't approach you at first—instead, they'll send someone to gather information about you. When they conclude it's really you, they'll come to you. It doesn't matter that you don't remember them. They'll crawl back into your life one way or another, no matter how much time it'll take. They know they shouldn't—you were hurt because of them—but they're too selfish to let you go. They won't pay much attention to your new friend; they're no threat to Laz or your relationship, and if they try to become one, well... :)

Ash cries. They break down right on the street, where they saw you. They're unwell, and they can't follow you because it's hard to breathe and their vision is darkening. Ash returns to the palace and tells everyone about this and asks Vez to send someone to find you, to gather information, because they don't know if it really was you or if they hallucinated. If it was you, then they'll come to find you, though they won't go alone—they're too scared. When they realize you don't remember them, they're shocked. They didn't think of this possibility at all. They thought you didn't want to come back to them, and if you said so, they would respect your decision, though it would break them all over again. But what do they do with this? They'll try to remind you of them and tell about your times together. If you allow them back into your life, they won't ask for much or try to get back with you. They'll let the nature take its course. As long as you're alive and happy and they can be near you, they're content.

(Let's pretend Az didn't go insane) Az comes right to you, asking you so many questions, babbling, barely making sense. I doubt you would understand them. Once you tell them you don't know them, they quieten, staring at you in surprise. They laugh, thinking you're joking with them, and say that this is a very cruel prank. When they realize you're not lying or joking, they take a step back and try to clear their thoughts. They'll calmly introduce themselves and explain that they knew you, and something bad happened, and they thought they lost you, but you're clearly alive, and they're very happy about it, and how have you been living so far? The barrage of words doesn't stop. Ultimately, they'll try to win you back, but they don't mind playing the long game and slowly gaining your trust. They did it once—they can do it again. They'll be very careful with your friend, try to get on their good side too, because they understand you might send them away if they offend your friend, and they won't allow that to happen. If your friend at any point shows romantic interest in you, well, Az knows how to play these games, and nothing will stop them from becoming the one you choose.

Thanks for the ask! The answer is kinda long, so sorry, lol... Hope you enjoy it 💛

#the abyssal song #asks #interactive fiction #interactive game #interactive novel #twine wip #tas: vez #tas: os #tas: laz #tas: ash #tas: az

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bigboigorgeous · 2 days ago

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I love me a feedee that actively loves stuffing - but I think I've determined that's not the kind of gainer I am. I am your gradual gainer, your 'didn't watch what he was eating' gainer. Your gets stoned and snacks too much gainer.

...And it's really starting to show. I keep saying I'm on the verge of needing to buy the next size up with my clothes, and that's very true. But if I behave enough - that won't be for at least a little while.

I can keep my calories totally reasonable if I stick to a routine, but the problem is that there are so many things that aren't routine. Cue the holidays. Already, I KNOW I'm going to pretend that I can moderate. But I won't. I will eat everything I can, especially the snacks and the sugary stuff. I won't be able to help myself. I'll come back from out of town in a week, try to get into my tightest pair of jeans, and if they don't fit...

I'm going to feel a lot of things. Disappointed in myself. A little scared. Terribly turned on. All of it.

I feel trapped by this kink, but the problem is that being trapped by it makes me even hornier. It's not about the food, it's about the lack of control, about being reduced into nothing but a horny, greedy beast who can't stop himself.

Every time I post on this blog. Every time I overeat. Every time I bounce and jiggle my growing belly. Every time I get off to thinking of a me over 300/400/500 lbs... I am dooming myself more and more. I am telling my body "we're going to get fatter". And I will keep pretending that I won't. I say that I still have time to reel this in. Get back on my exercise bike. Eat better.

...But there's cookies in my kitchen and I'm going to go eat at least two of them right now.

#feeding kink #gaining weight on purpose #feedee encouragement #fat belly #fat piggy #ftm feedee #queer feedee #feedee belly #belly gainer #feedee feeder #trans feedee

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constantcrying · 2 days ago

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Ersatz, baby

m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.

TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that

Heeeeey

Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year

“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.

The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.

You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.

Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.

For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

Regardless he said, “turn around.”

He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.

He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”

Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.

He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”

You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.

Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.

So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.

It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.

You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.

He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.

(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)

As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.

Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.

He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.

This Thursday you must have forgot.

Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.

He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.

It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—

—well, you called him your friend.

It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?

Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.

You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.

He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.

“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”

Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”

“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”

“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”

They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.

Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.

But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.

Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.

The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.

Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?

More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.

He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.

Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?

And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?

Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.

He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.

As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.

He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.

You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?

There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.

Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.

It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.

He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.

“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.

“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.

It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.

“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”

“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.

“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”

“You mean, ‘him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.

The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”

Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.

Sasha gives up on looking friendly.

Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”

He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.

It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.

Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.

Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?

Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:

hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?

What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—

At a party

And your answer is,

oh ok

we’ll watch it some other time

have fun!

…

Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something

It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.

He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.

For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.

But it disappears in an instant.

“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”

He doesn’t know what to say.

You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.

Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.

“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”

Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.

When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”

He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”

“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”

“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.

“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”

It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.

“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”

Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”

“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”

“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.

His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.

God help him, he’s been starving for this.

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