#tearing myself to pieces it's about the yearning!!!!

[stubbornlysoft]

All the hesitation dissolved with each new press of her mouth. Her palms against his cheeks; the warmth that spread from her face to her throat to her chest was too hard to fight against.

Then—his words: I would die a thousand deaths… And his mouth tasted exactly how she remembered it from that strange, unremembered dream. And the smell, the familiar scent of leather and something wild and hot—and—and— The heat blossomed low in her belly, the desire spiking hard and fast, igniting her veins and numbing her fingertips as she slipped her fingers to  grasp at his hair, just needing—needing to get closer to him, because she needed him. Wanted him. The thought took a hold of her, gripping at her chest—that this—the sheer presence of him, the sensations on her tongue and the taste she couldn't quite name on his mouth. Fuck this. Fuck you. Why are you making this so easy? She wanted to say this, and so many other things. All her demands were burning like a wild fire in her veins. The only solution was to press her weight harder against him. Her mouth against his. She felt the fabric of his shirt bunch and her hand slipped just under it, feeling the flatness of his abdomen. She was utterly lost in this moment of just feeling and touching. Through the burning lust she could feel the yearning, and the fear trying to climb its way out, the tendrils of memory she had clung onto—the fleeting glimpse of a sunset and an embrace that held such a familiar ache. With a jolt, she sat up, pushing her hair back as she looked down at him, panting slightly as she regained her breathing. The warmth of her fingertips rested on his face, lightly grasping him, her eyes pleading as a tremble escaped her. "I didn't mean it." she began, her voice raspy. "About hating you—I-I—" her breaths were stuttering and her heart pounded as she tried to form words. It took her by surprise—desire didn't allow for such softness. There were still barriers she had yet to take down.

A piece of her couldn't give in until she spoke her mind. The feeling in the pit of her stomach grew. She drew her lower lip into her mouth, a slight dip of her head toward him. The urge to meet his lips again almost caused her to lean forward, but she hesitated, knowing she had to explain— I have known you for eternity. Think, what to say. I've missed you so, so terribly. Tear my heart out, stitch yourself in. You haunt me, torment me in a way no one else can—and I've only known the cruel world, until you. You managed to carve yourself in—to stay when I could have burned a hundred lifetimes. What was left of me...You kept it.  A touch that belongs to you, alone—a home, where no one and nothing will ever find us, or come between us. Say it—speak. The truth—the memory is in your hands. The words are in my tongue. Give in. Say it. Because you have kept every piece of it; —your heart and my heart and the curse between us. "Hey." Her words came out firm, quiet, looking down at him. This was it. "Do you—" She tried to pull the truth, something hidden, even from the vast nothingness to the forefront of her mind. "Have you ever read Anna Karenina?" Don't fuck it up. A dry chuckle escaped her as she felt like the woman in question: on the verge of taking a dangerous step that could possibly throw her off the edge of a metaphorical train track. Say it. "What I meant was—" Her fingers were trembling harder now. The heat that radiated from her face and neck spread throughout her body, an invisible hand that clutched around her throat made her swallow, once, then again, to get a proper amount of air. It's okay, you need to say it "Because—well—" Oh, for the love of— "Tolstoy—" She half laughed and shook her head, her fingers reached for her scarf, pulling it off and tossing it behind her. I give myself to you: Take it. "In the book, there's—" Ugh, fuck this. "Oh, just fuck—" Her throat clenched and, before she could draw her next breath, her mouth crashed against his. The last of her self-restraint unraveling. Can I trust you to catch me when I fall? Are you real? Is this real? Then she pushed—all those unasked questions; the fact that she knew this man on a level beyond her knowledge—against him, physically and with a kiss that was heated and searing and all teeth and tongue. Her hips grinding a little to ease the ache in her, her breathing caught and stuttered. "Sylus, I want you," The words, pressed, rushed, were nearly a whimper between kisses. Said with a weight, with all that remained unspoken from the corners of her mind. "Don't—just—I want you—"

Continued from this. closed rp w/ @sylus-hds-7213

Some time later, Lana straightened her sweater after switching on the dishwasher, reaching for her glass of wine—the driest, cheapest chardonnay that had ever disgraced a bottle. A gift from a co-worker ages ago, in one of those half-hearted holiday exchanges. A part of her wondered if that was all she was worth—a discount dinner bottle shoved in a gift bag at the last minute. She took a sip. 

"This wine tastes like shit."

The words slipped out before she could stop them, but honestly, there was no point in pretending otherwise. Still, she grabbed the bottle again, pouring herself half a glass like sheer stubbornness alone could improve the taste. Apparently, she was a masochist.

She felt Sylus watching her from the kitchen island. His presence alone was unspoken commentary. She didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smirking, probably about to open his mouth and make it worse.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, taking another reluctant sip. "Don’t say it," she warned, lifting a finger in his general direction without even glancing at him. "I cooked for you, so whatever smartass remark you’re about to make? Swallow it like you swallowed the pasta."

Lana groaned and turned, setting the glass down a little too hard on the island. "Look, I already committed. I opened this garbage. It was a white elephant gift, and I refuse to let it win."

She reached for the small succulent sitting in the center of the island, pulling it toward her. She pressed a finger lightly against the soil—her movements focused. Because if she focused on this, she wouldn’t be forced to focus on him and try to come up with more things to talk about. 

Her fingers idly traced the rim of her glass before she finally looked up, holding it aloft. "I’ve been sparing you for the last hour, by the way." A slow smirk tugged at her lips as she tilted her glass toward him. "From this. You’re welcome."

[mobius-m-mobius]

The difficulty is to convince someone else he is really part of you.

DANIEL CRAIG and DREW STARKEY in QUEER (2024), dir. Luca Guadagnino

[jpmarvel90]

Dont Belong Part 3

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 7175

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Y/n POV:

These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.

I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.

But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.

"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.

The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.

"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.

"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.

"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."

Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.

I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.

"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.

"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.

As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.

"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"

"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"

I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."

"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.

Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."

As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.

But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."

"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"

With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.

Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."

"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."

"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.

But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."

I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.

"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.

"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.

Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."

"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."

Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.

"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.

She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"

"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."

"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."

As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.

__________

The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.

Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.

Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.

"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.

I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.

"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.

I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.

The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.

Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.

Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.

There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."

As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."

I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.

"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.

Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.

I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.

Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.

I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.

Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."

"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.

Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.

"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."

Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.

"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.

Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.

"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.

There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.

Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks

"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!

Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.

"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.

Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.

There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.

Nat's POV:

My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.

I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.

Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.

Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.

I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!

"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.

But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."

"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.

There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.

Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."

Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.

"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.

I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.

_________

As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.

Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.

"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.

"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.

"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.

"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.

"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.

"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.

Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."

"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.

Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.

"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.

"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.

"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.

As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.

But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.

"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"

As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.

"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist @oh-thats-cute @bstvst @waiqui @fxckmiup @kosmichs1 @theprincipality

[danyasblogsblog]

NOW ITS THREE IN THE MORNING KÖNIG

WRITERS NOTE: this piece is loosely based off an edit on tiktok made by @adoreghvst. i give credit to them for this idea, especially the text messages. please go check out their page as their work is amazing. thanks!!

- after a late night argument, youre out of the house, needing some air away from your military man, who was so protective to the point it felt unfair to you. three in the morning, you realise why he cares so much.

warnings : AAAAHHHDJDHSK SO ANGSTY, reader is drunk, könig crying in front of you, reader gets hit on by a little asshole in the bar

based on the arctic monkeys song, “why do you only call me when you’re high?”

ps i love thinking of könig as a gentle giant and like so protective and loving towards you. thats prolly what all my fics involving könig will be like aha

schatz - darling

liebling - darling (aswell)

bitte - please

ja - yes

ich liebe dich auch - i love you too

mein engel - my angel

hör auf - stop

‘Hello? Don’t ignore me, schatz.’

your phone buzzed in your small purse. you took it out, knowing exactly who was lighting it up. 4 missed calls.

you sighed, putting your phone back. at this point, you were so drunk you couldnt even remember what you and könig were fighting about. all you knew is that it was the 3rd night you and him had been arguing, and you needed a break.

‘why are you so protective, könig? im not your fucking dog, im able to defend myself.’

‘im doing whats best for you, why cant you see that y/n? i do everything for you and youre so ungrateful.’

your heart ached at the memory. you thought of könig alone at home, calling you over and over again, not being able to sleep. you opened up your purse again, checking your phone. 3 more missed calls.

‘I need you, schatz. Please come back home.’

a tear snaked down your cheek. you wiped it away swiftly and put your phone on do not disturb. you needed a break- no matter how badly it hurt you. while putting your phone back into your purse, you dropped it, a thud bouncing in the air because of it. a curse dropped from your mouth. while leaning down to get your phone, a hand reached for it before you.

‘you dropped this.’ you turned your head up to be greeted by the face of a stranger. he held your phone out, beckoning you to take it. you took your phone, shoving it back into your purse with a huff. ‘thanks.’ you muttered, avoiding eye contact with the young man. he invited himself to sit next to you, introducing his name. you sat there, staring into space as his eyebrows furrowed from how you didnt introduce yourself back to him. ‘hello?? are you mute??’

you felt annoyed. this cunt of a man was destroying your alone time, and all the vodka you drank was catching up with you. ‘sorry, im not interested.’ you mumbled, finally locking eyes with the stranger. he went on a rant about how he couldve just taken your phone and ran off with it, but he decided to be a ‘gentleman’ and give it you. your mind went blank. all your thoughts turned to könig, who was probably still calling your phone, hoping you would home soon.

tears pricked at your eyes. ‘what, so you are gonna cry now?’ the man said.

you stood up and left.

your mascara ran down your flushed cheeks, and your whole body churned with pain. the alcohol rushed through your blood as you stumbled out the bar. you called a taxi, pulling out some notes to pay to the driver. you felt your whole body sinking into the backseats. the sound of cars driving past the taxi just made you yearn to go quicker so you could see your boyfriend and apologise to him.

you took your phone out again. 32 missed calls. a pang of guilt hit you.

‘Please, liebling..’

‘I miss you’

‘Im so sorry, schatz.’

you rang könig’s contact, staring at his profile picture - an image of you and him on your one year anniversary.

one ring. you looked up, expecting a few more rings before he would answer. you were slightly surprised when he picked up the phone right before the second ring. ‘schatz, are you okay? where- where are you i can pick you up’ he sniffled. his voice slightly broke, and the thought of könig crying over you made your heart hurt in an indescribable way. you hiccuped.

‘um- i dont know where i am but im in a taxi come- coming home. im so sorry könig im so sorry im so sorry.’ hot tears fell from your eyes, staining your cheeks.

‘liebling, bitte, dont apologise. just come home and sleep and we can- we can talk about it in the morning, ja?’

you felt so much guilt. hearing your boyfriend’s voice break, and listening to him be so wary of you made your heart crack into pieces. god- now you understood why he protected you. that guy in the bar, you were drunk. what could he have done to you if you hadnt left earlier?

‘y/n?’

being entrapped in your thoughts made you forget about the call. ‘okay könig. i lo- love you im so sorry.’

‘ich liebe dich auch, mein engel.’

the phone disconnected. you checked the time, 3:26AM. you left the house at 9. how could you do this to könig? the man who just wanted to protect you from all things bad- the man who just wanted to hold you in his arms and rock you to sleep. your body ached with guilt- and the alcohol ran through your body in a way that made your stomach churn.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

you turned the keys into the hole, desperately missing the warmth of you and könig’s home. the door opened, and you pushed yourself inside.

as soon as könig heard the door open, he ran for you. he held you in a tight embrace- his muscles practically crushing you. ‘im so sorry im so sorry im so sorry im so sorry’ you whispered into his chest. könig could smell the alcohol on you, something you hadnt even been aware of. ‘mein schatz, please stop apologising.. come into bed, engel.’

you broke away from the hug, but you still clinged onto him. your whole body ached. you knew könig could tell, based on the way he swooped you up into his strong arms after watching how you were wobbling and stepping onto his feet. hot tears rained down your cheeks, staining his shirt as you nuzzled your face into his chest. he carried you to your shared bed, settling you down before sitting right next to you.

looking up into his apologetic blue eyes, you could tell he was crying earlier. one thing you know about könig is that he never cries. you knew you had hurt him. you knew what he’d been through, and he had never crumbled talking about it. you knew you did damage. ‘im so sorry’ you mumbled, staring into his hypnotic eyes. ‘liebling, bitte hör auf. go to sleep.’

you closed your eyes, leaning into könig and his scent. he stroked your hair, whispering sweet german words into your ear until you fell asleep.

4:00AM.

[byeolbeloved]

Letters to Cupid -Kang Yeosang

Pairings> soldier!yeosang x typist!reader

Genre> childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, use of flashbacks, slightly suggestive, setting takes place around 18th century

Summary> for centuries, women named cupids worked as typists to write letters on behalf of senders who couldn't write themselves. You were always the writer but never the receiver for a love letter, yearning to be picked up by a knight. What you didn't expect was for this knight to have a familiar set of eyes, only this time lost from the innocence they once had.

Words from pupa : This fic is inspired by the anime Violet Evergarden! Also note that the writings in small italics are meant to be flashbacks. I had so much fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it <3 The picture is also fanart I made myself hehe so I hope you like that too ^^

The typewriter clicked away, following a warm melody of the woman reminiscing her adventures with the other piece of her that is now battling the screams and horror of man. The warm scenery of her words contrasted the thunderous roars outside. The weather had no mercy on lovers under the moonlight.

"Please tell him I love him and I'll always be waiting for him" the woman said glass eyed. 

She's a gorgeous woman, with light make up and well done hair, although judging from the purple under her eyes you can tell she's had restless nights, tearful even, by her pink nose that was already prominent as she walked through the door. 

You always thought about how hard it must be to have your lover be in the military. You've seen many cases of these couples working as a typist. You had at least 10 letters a day of women writing to their husbands on how badly they miss them, some not knowing their ashes have become part of the land they fight to protect. 

"He will appreciate this letter dearly, Elenor. I will make sure to send it out by Friday" you say with a smile embossing a wax seal on the letter.

"Oh thank you Cupid. I was never good at using the typewriter so when an old friend told me about you I practically came here as fast as I could. It's been a month since he's been away, we've never been separated for this long.." 

"It must be so hard for you both. He'll be just fine El... I see the love in your eyes, he'll come back to them"

Education was a privilege, hence the reason why so many people were illiterate. For centuries women named "Cupids" wrote letters on behalf of senders who weren't able to write to their loved ones themselves or simply didn't know how to express their emotions on paper. It started from a voluntary organisation but has now turned into a whole company, well known throughout the land. 

You were born into the world of literature. Your father was a writer and your mother was a book illustrator. Work being the opening chapter for their own love story. From the moment you were born, books heavily dominated your life. Literally. Because even from the scene of your birth, where your mother delivered you unexpectedly at the house you grew up in, you were wrapped in ripped pages from books- that being the first thing they could grab instead of a blanket at such a chaotic scene of panic. 

You grew up with your mother reading you books and you accompanied your father while he wrote. Although you loved literature, writing your own book wasn't something you saw yourself doing. You much preferred experiencing a realistic event rather than coming up with a story, which is why you fell in love with this job.

You get to write true emotion while hearing another person's story and relationships. And you were clearly good at portraying what people wanted to express as you had tons of people personally asking for you to write for them.

Love; a topic you could rant on and on about. You dreamt about being picked up by a knight, running away from reality just to intertwine in each other's soul.  

However, you weren't such a hopeless romantic as you were very selective with the guys you talked to, let alone dated. No one has ever made you feel like a princess getting saved by the prince. Maybe reality isn't like the books, however, you felt that there must be someone in this lifetime who could make you feel like that.

The night was dark. Dark as the swelling wave of the ocean before the rising winds, when it bends its head near the coast. Rain fell hard against the concrete floor and the wind was so sharp it could cut you. 

The girl shut her eyes, trying to count sheep to calm her heartbeat but the sound of the rain only pictured her sheep drowning in the night alongside her.

"The rain won't get us here" spoke the boy, flashing her a smile that emphasized the pink red mark by his left eye. The red mark he told her was from a kiss from cupid after she pointed out how it looked like a heart. They were under the awning of a closed store.

"The rain is scary Yeosang" she frowned.

"It's only water" he held his hand out to the rain and let it get wet "see? I'm fine" 

"I know but I don't like the noises" 

"Then don't listen to the noises. You can just listen to me" he wiped his wet hand on the side of his pants and grabbed onto hers.

"I will protect you from the rain. I promise I will always hold your hand when it rains Y/N"

“Sorry I’m late, I just finished up with my last client for the day. Did I miss anything?” you place down your coat on the chair back.

“Only Jia swooning over mailman Tony again” Sakura chuckled while sipping her coffee.

“Seriously, when are you going to make a move? He might be single” Maya continued mouthful with a sandwich.

“Oh shush there shall be no romance at work. We have a business relationship and that’s how it’s going to stay. Now let’s get started with the meeting so we can head home before the weather gets worse.” Jia snaps and everyone hides their smiles at her shyness.

“Okay, this meeting is to just remind everyone about plans for next week. We will be accompanying commander Chan- everyone remembers him right? From last year. We will be writing letters for his unit, he has a different unit now. Make sure to pack warm clothes sinc-”

“Since there will be lower temperature in the North” Sakura and Maya said together in a monotone voice. “We’ve done this before Jia we knowww~” Sakura whines.

“Just relax and look out for the hot single soldiers” Maya giggles to Sakura who is now poking at Jia’s side.

“Business! This is business guys! We're going there for work. Plus, these hot guys are depending on us to bring back their messages to their families. No fooling around” Jia makes clear.

Once a year your team will visit military camps to write for soldiers. You’re usually there for 3 days excluding travel. Apart from some of the men being touch starved and looking as if they’ve never seen a woman in their life- most of them are really nice. Last time they even set out a mini farewell and thank you party before your departure.

The crisp sound of snow beneath your feet and cold sensation on your nose definitely woke you up from your nap on the way here. It actually felt quite nice, your surroundings bright from the white snow despite the sun not yet risen and the cold air felt like a splash of water to your face in the early morning. All nice except for the sound of Sakura and Maya’s whines from how their boots weren’t fit for the snow. This is exactly why Jia spent so much time whining about clothing. 

The soldiers shared cabins or tents. You girls too got your own cabin to share- unfortunately quite small so you’ll have to put up with Maya’s snores throughout the night, however big enough for the 4 of you. The main area had its own cabin. That’s where the soldiers mostly hang out and eat. 

As you girls made your way to the main area, commander Chan introduced you to everyone. There seemed to be at least 40 men in there, thankfully all divided into units so it was easier to organise when you’ll be working with who. 

Everyone gave you a warm welcome. You girls spent the first hour chatting with some of them, or you could say flirting for Maya and Sakura, before going into your cabin and unpacking your stuff.

Everyone was really sweet. Two soldiers, a long haired guy with a mole under his eye and another slightly taller than him with a dorito-like physique showed you around the area and let you know the schedule for breakfast, training and lunch. The area was quite open, you could see yourself getting comfortable here as it was very quiet. However, during all this you felt a pair of eyes on you. Though looking around you never saw anyone who could be staring.

“Slow down Yeo! It’s really rocky here” the little girl pants, trying to keep up with the energetic boy in front of her. He’s practically waddling like an excited maltese dog that’s about to get a treat.

“Just a little more, come on!” he grabs onto her hand speeding up her steps, now reaching his pace.

The two youngsters reach the top of the hill, overlooking the dazzling sight of flowers in different shapes and colours spread out across the field. 

The girl lets out a gasp eyes sparkling “This is… what you wanted to show me?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeo this is…. Beautiful” her eyes scan across the field, completely forgetting the distant yelling from her mom she was worrying about 15 minutes ago from why she took so long to get back home after school. 

“It’s gorgeous” says the boy, but he’s not looking at the scenery of flowers. He’s looking directly at her. Swimming in the ocean of her sparkling eyes reflecting the warm colours from the sunset. 

You are gorgeous he thought to himself.

The day was busy. Each unit who was on their breaks got their letters done and even though it was only day one, you managed to get lots done already. It was already pitch black outside and everyone was already tucked into their cabins.

Maybe you were still in work-mode but your body had no intentions to rest as you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bunk bed so you decided to take a step outside. You walked over to a corner with bright pink flowers contrasting the white snow, standing tall and so youthful.

“So beautiful…” you whispered, crouching to touch the soft pedals. They look like they have just bloomed. 

“Cyclamen” a deep voice from behind you startles you, letting out a light yelp from you as you turn around quickly. Your yelp almost turns into a loud gasp as you quickly identify the figure owning that deep voice. 

His hair is a light chocolate brown, long enough to be tucked behind his ears but not in a I haven’t thought about cutting my hair type of way- it was well maintained. He was taller than you but not enough so that you’re practically looking up. His body was clearly fit, arm muscles very prominent even from his camo print thick jacket. His skin was pale. So pale it looked like milk. So pale it emphasized the pink mark by his left eye.  

Kang Yeosang.

You had no doubt this was the same boy who used to have thick pitch black hair, sometimes patchy bangs from the self haircut his sister used to give him. The same boy who looked at everyone with sparkly eyes and clapped his hands together when he laughed. 

This was your Kang Yeosang.

“Those flowers are Cyclamen” he said expressionless, hands in his pockets. 

You don’t know if it's the cold air drying your eyes or your overwhelming emotion but you start to feel tears forming, so hot and full of sentiment they almost burn your skin. “Yeosang…?” you whisper but it comes out shaky. 

“They mostly bloom in cold weather” he says, still in the same stance.

“Are there any more flowers around here?” you sniffle out tilting your head.

“I’ve seen snow roses around here before. Would you like to see them with me someday?”

“I’d love to” you said with a smile, now earning a smile from him.

He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to you, pulling you into a hug which you gracefully accept, your arms latching around his neck almost a bit too tight. 

“Hello Y/N” and that's your breaking point. You start sobbing into his chest muffling out I miss yous to which he responds with a hand on your head, caressing it gently. 

“I’m here”

The walk was quiet and heavy. Each step representing minutes lost from each other.

The girl is the first to break the icy silence “can’t you wait at least till next year? We just graduated”

“Y/N this isn’t my choice to make, I don’t have any other choice. It’s what I’m supposed to do” the boy says against his wishes.

“When will I be able to see you again?” the girl now looks at him glass eyed.

“I don’t know” he lowers his head but quickly looks at her holding her hand. “Hey, no matter how long it will take, I will always be here, yea? I promise Y/N”

“Please don’t break that promise Yeo..”

The following days you and Yeosang were practically glued together when you had the time. You caught up on each other's life events and even reminisced about your childhood together. It was almost like you were kids again, except you noticed how serious Yeosang is now.

You don’t expect him to have that same innocence as he had when you were younger. He’s a grown man now and also a soldier. Not a particularly happy go lucky type of job. However, apart from teeth smiles while covering his mouth with his hand, you haven’t heard him laugh yet. You missed it. You missed the days when you both ran around giggling at any little thing. Is that boy you loved, lost?

“But yea, let’s just say leaving a half opened can of soup in a tent for 2 weeks isn’t a great idea” he scratched his head and lightly chuckled.

You laughed at his stories with his cabinmates. So far he has only told you about silly fun stories with his friends, apart from him explaining the basic routine of what they do in training. You were glad he was able to make fond memories as a soldier, especially since you knew how nervous he was joining the military.

But something about you knew that wasn’t all. Has he really been doing well? What about the times he's been in battle? Has he been greatly injured before? Broken a bone maybe? Does he miss his family?

Did he ever think about you?

“Yeo…” you placed your spoon down. The main cabin was far too loud for both of you to have a conversation so you and him chose to stay in his tent for breakfast and dinners. His cabinmates barely stayed there unless it was for sleep so you had all the privacy you wanted. 

“How are you? Really”

“I’m doing well”

“No Yeo, I mean about everything. Do you like it here? Don’t you miss home?”

“Home? Well… Mom occasionally sends letters, I’ve visited sometimes but travel is so long I’d only have a day with them till I have to come back so… I’ve stopped visiting.” How long has it been since he’s had a home cooked meal?

“This definitely isn’t luxury heh, but I’m used to it Y/N. Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing here”

“Do you ever think about… me? Us?” immediately his gaze softens to your words. This is probably the first time you’ve seen a genuine expression on his face since being here. His hand is gently placed on your thigh and he brings his face closer to you. 

“Of course Y/N, I told you I’ll always be here. I promised” his eyes burn into your soul and your gaze meets his birthmark. Your finger moves by itself and goes to gently touch it.

“I don’t see you anymore Yeosang… everything is so different”

“I know. It’s hard. This is all very hard but we are going to work this out Y/N” 

Your faces are so close together you can practically taste his breath. His eyes land to your lips and for a second you could see the pupils of his eyes grow. He slowly breaks the space between you and you close your eyes, expecting to feel a touch on your lips  until he breaks off the moment with a whisper “I want to write a letter.”

“I don’t understand thissssss~ let’s just take a break” 

“We’ve already taken 2 breaks. Here, I started the first step for you, now remember what we did for question 6, it’s basically the same thing” the boy hands her the sheet of paper.

“Yeo I appreciate your help but maybe this is a sign from god that I should just give up on Math” the girl slouches on her seat kicking her feet.

“Math isn’t that hard, you just need to focus. Now come on we still have 5 pages left.”

“5 PAGES!? I might as well throw myself off the window” 

“If you finish this in the next hour” he leans in close to her ear “I might give you a kiss” he leans back to his chair with a smug look on his face.

You’d think the girl wore face paint on her face from the deep red that was now formed. Without a word she picks up a pencil and writes away on her paper. 

“Damn you Yeosang”

Some people get frustrated with slow walkers in front of them, slow drivers or even someone talking way too calmly, but the way Yeosang is working the typewriter makes you want to snatch it from him and do the job yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write the letter for you?” 

“It’s fine I got this” he continues on with his slow pace.

“Who are you writing that letter to anyway?”

“Just someone”

“Who is just someone?”

“A person I know”

 “Who is this person you know?”

“You don’t know them”

“Pleaseee Yeooo~” you lean in closer to him “I’ll give you a kiss if you tell me who” you giggle remembering his little tactic he used to use on you in school.

“Mmmm I’ll think about it” you huff in frustration and he laughs. 

He laughs. 

Your worries of losing the boy you loved dearly completely vanished as you finally see that innocent boy back. His laugh sounded like the doorbell of a childhood house, where kids would run to see if daddy is home. The last bell ring at school, when kids ran home to show mommy what they drew. The sound of the ice cream truck song amplifying as it rolled up from down the street. The clicking sound of riding your first bike, parents cheering in the background for balancing without training wheels.

He sounded like childhood and you felt like a child again. 

In what felt like forever, Yeosang finished his letter. Sealing the paper into an envelope ready to be read by this mystery person you so badly wanted to know. 

“Okay I’ll take it and make sure to send it out. Make sure to write the address.” you reach your hand out but he doesn't move.

“Oh no I want to keep it”

“What?”

“I want to keep the letter.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to send it to that person?”

“Not yet.”

 “We can withhold it and send it at any given time you want”

“It’s fine, I’ll send it myself”

Him protecting this letter made you even more curious as to who it was for. Surely he didn’t just write something for fun. Who was this friend? Was it a girl? Or possibly a lover? Surely not. Especially not when he almost just kissed you a while ago. 

He promised. You’re just overthinking. Right?

It was your last day with the soldiers. You only had a couple of letters to finish and by nightfall you and the girls were set off to travel back home. Absolute no bone in your body wanted to go back home. This meant being separated from Yeosang again and you weren’t ready to let him go yet, you only just reunited with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor waiting” Maya points to the door, only to see Yeosang waiting for you. 

“I have a few more letters to write th-” you’re shushed by Maya when she lightly shoves you out of the room “Don’t worry, we got this, you go enjoy your last moments with lover boy” she whispers the last part although Yeosang surely heard judging by the way he looked away.

“Ooo he’s a shy lover boy too” Maya says before closing the door, you can still hear her giggles through the wall as you’re now left alone with Yeosang.

“Shall we go?” he quietly says. 

“Yeah, where are we going?” 

“You’ll see”

The two of you slowly walk side by side, occasionally bumping the sides of your arms. There isn’t much talking but the silence is comfortable. Almost too comfortable that you forget this is the last time you get to examine his features before the final goodbye for god knows how long it will be again.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Yeosang hands you a big white flower, a snow rose. “This is the snow rose I told you about” he said with a smile gently handing it over to you.

“Yeos-”

“Marry me Y/N”

What.

Time stops for a second. A long second. Even the birds stop chirping and the wind halts. You aren’t sure what just happened but your heart knows for sure that it’s a big deal as it beats so hard, destined to break out of you and reach his own, intertwining with his and merging into one. 

“What did you say?” you mutter quietly.

In contrast with your tone, Yeosang is confident. His chin is up high, shoulders back and there's a look in his eyes that show no sign of hesitation. 

“I want you to marry me Y/N” he takes a step closer, and another, and another, till you’re now backed up into the rough surface of a tree.

“I’m going to make this work, I’ll find a way to leave this place if I have to but Y/N, I can’t let you go again.” he cups your face gently and swipes his thumb across your cheek “I’m done keeping promises and making you wait, I want to be with you Y/N, only you” he rests his forehead against yours.

“Come home to me Yeosang” you breathe onto his lips before locking them together. 

Your lips dance together so full of passion and need it almost feels as if your bodies are intertwining into one. You feel his small smile through the kiss as you deepen it, locking your hands in his hair while his explores the sides of your body.

Cold air hits your belly as he lifts up your shirt to slide his hand against your skin, caressing your chest. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss you would have noticed that he was practically spelling his name across your chest with his hand movements.

Remembering that you both need to breathe, he’s the first to break the kiss. You’re both a panting mess but he manages you let out a chuckle “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes in every language Yeosang. I will marry you” you smile out taking in his lips once again.

You asked for a rose, but Yeosang gave you a whole garden.  

Two years later

“Tell me Cupid, what should I tell her? I’m so scared. What if she’s waiting for another man?” the man from across you says, blowing his nose into his now 8th tissue in the past 10 minutes.

“Sir Walker, you clearly love her right?”

“Yes! Oh heavens more than anything, I-I’d kill for her, I’d crawl on my knees for he-” he sighs taking a breath “I don’t imagine a life without her”

“Then fight for her” you say softly.

“She’s lands away from me Cupid! How will I be a man to her if I cant even reach for her?”

“Make that happen. You said you would kill and crawl for her. Put actions to your words Sir Walker and show her you love her. You are living in the same lifetime, right here, right now, don’t regret your choices and lose her. She needs to see you fight for her” 

The man breaks down but looks up at you again, composing himself before saying “Have you experienced love Cupid?”

“Everyone experiences love. If not now, one day, just as you wait for love, there is another person waiting for the same. Everyone has someone awaiting them” you softly smile. 

“I’ll do it. Tell her I’m coming to get her. I’m not sure when but from today onwards, she will be my focus” the man lets out a broken smile. Broken yet mendable.

“She will be waiting for you Sir Walker” you say before typing away, a paragraph that awaits a new chapter for the couple.

Your night ends with that heartfelt love story. You hope the best for the couple and your heart nearly breaks with his as you also can’t help but think about your person you are waiting for. 

The weather outside is mean. Almost in hopes of drowning man in its rage. The thunder roars and you’re left counting sheep in your head- something you’ve been doing ever since you were a kid to calm down. 

As you’re walking out of the building Jia calls you from behind “Y/N you have a letter!”

She runs up to you and hands you the letter. “Who is this from?” you ask as you’ve never received a letter before. 

“Hm not sure” she looks into a room, clearly distracted by something, or someone as you look at the direction only to see the famous mailman who has been working here years before you joined the company- Tony.

“Um yea I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N I gotta go, bye! Let me know who that letter is from!” she says from a distance practically skipping her way to Tony,

You don't get the chance to even reply to her before she's gone. You look at the letter and there is no address to indicate where it was sent from, which could only mean this letter must have been dropped off by the sender here at the company.

You walk out the building, still sheltered from the awning covering you. Your steps are heavy, unable to move.

It's fine Y/N let's take this slow you thought to yourself deciding to just stand there for a while before making your way home.

You curiously open the letter and start reading it;

Dear Y/N,

How are you? I am writing this letter to you while you are right next to me. I hope you’re not mad about almost kissing you and asking to write a letter instead. It’s just that I wanted to capture my feelings towards you at this given moment, so we can hopefully both look back at this letter.

You asked me if I liked it here. I don’t. I hate the feeling of knowing every movement I make can be my last, and that I won’t be able to say my final goodbye to you. I hate that I go to sleep at night, responsible for another lost man from his lover. I wish I could be able to come home from work and tell you about my day. But what can I tell you? About how many screams I heard? How bloody my hands are after every battle? 

You asked me if I think about you. My answer is yes. Painfully yes. I always think about what you could be doing at any time. If you found yourself love. I worry everytime it rains, do you have anyone to hold your hand during thunderstorms? I force myself to repeat your voice in my head because I’m so afraid of forgetting what you sound like. I always remember about the day I took you to the flower field. You looked so beautiful in that moment. So everytime I find a flower, I make sure to stop and admire it, pretending it’s you. Because to me, you are far more beautiful than any flower out there. 

I will come home to you Y/N. I promised I would be there. I promised to hold your hand. And I will fulfil my promises, even if it means fighting for my life. 

Wait for me my love.

Love,

Yeosang. 

“Damn you Yeosang” you chuckled out, a crack in your voice causing tears to slip out. You look up to the sight of the man in reason for these tears. He’s still wearing his uniform, hat covering half his face. He seems to have gotten bigger in physique too. He drops his hat and you smile widely at the sight of his birthmark, now holding smiling eyes.

“It’s raining” he said, reaching out a hand “I’m here to hold your hand.”

You completely ignore the extended hand and crash your body into his for a tight hug. An embrace with no chance of him slipping out. 

“You came home” you said into his chest.

“I came to stay” 

“And to hold my hand” 

“And to hold your hand” he laughs out.

Yeosang was your childhood. Yeosang is your home.

[vivvangel]

a million little times | yang jungwon.

viv's note 💌: not proof read. love u all.

synopsis: he doesn't love you, what's so hard about understanding that? he doesn't love you. but for him, you'd break yourself a million little times, did he want that? no. did he want you? also, no?. › pairings & contents: situationship!jungwon x afab!reader, angst ✧ warnings: love bombing, situatioship breakup, blurred lines in a relationship, trauma, one sided love, commitment issues. ━━━━━━ tw.

wc:

what started in beautiful rooms, ends with meetings in parking lots and that's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings and longing stares; It's born from just one single glance but it dies, and it dies, and it dies — a million little times.

"jungwon, let's not do this—"

"it's over, i'm sorry"

it's over & he's sorry. if only he cared to explain what we were in the first place.

let's rewind?

yang jungwon was the most perfect "boyfriend". only if he was your boyfriend. he got you flowers, he took care of you, but he wasn't your boyfriend — if you could turn back time, you would never agree to be in a "no-label" relationship, because oh boy, does it hurt.

the relationship existed in a perpetual state of limbo, neither fully committed nor entirely detached. you two clung to each other out of loneliness and desperation, your hearts yearning for something more, yet unable to break free from the suffocating grip of their situation.

you loved him. your desire for jungwon's love and affection was strong, like an endless thirst in the desert of your soul. you ached for his presence, touch, and reassuring whispers. you sought the stability and security that had always evaded you in him, believing that he would fill the emptiness in your heart. but he didn't, he made that empty gap bigger.

however, jungwon was just a man plagued by his own demons, haunted by the ghosts of his past. his heart was a fortress, walled by walls of dread and uncertainty, unable to truly embrace your love. he wanted, needed intimacy but resisted it, scared of the vulnerability & commitment it required.

a girl who loves hard and a guy who doesn't understand what to do with that love — a recipe for disaster. commitment was a daunting prospect, for jungwon atleast, it was like a leap into the unknown that threatened to unravel the fragile threads of his very own existence, something he didn't understand himself. he struggled to let go of the past, to trust in the promise of a future with you, even as you stood before him, offering your heart on a silver plate for him.

"why can't you just be honest with me?" you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion.

jungwon's eyes narrowed, a coldness creeping into his voice. "honesty won't change anything," he retorted, his words laced with bitterness. "you're too naive to understand the truth."

tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him, your hand trembling. "I don't care, wonie," you pleaded, your voice choked with emotion. "I just want to be with you, no matter what."

jungwon pulled away from you, his heart heavy with guilt. "I wish it were that simple," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "but I can't promise you anything, not when I can barely hold myself together."

each word felt like a blow to your already bruised heart, your chest tightening with the weight of his indifference. "I thought you loved me," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of your crumbling relationship.

your heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces, realizing that the man you once loved had become nothing more than a cruel stranger. you couldn't help but wonder if you had ever truly known jungwon at all.

"jungwon, let's not do this—"

"it's over, i'm sorry"

it's over & he's sorry.

where's the rewind button?

@vivvangel, 2024.

[wolfiihoney]

Quick blurb for my lovelies! Pls enjoy this quick poorly written piece <33 unedited btw srry hehe 💖

Higuruma wasn't easily bothered, but there were a few things that got under his skin, like loud noises, crowded stores, traffic, burnt toast, and more,

what really bothered him was the change in your sleeping routine.

Since meeting you, he had altered his work schedule to ensure the early start and end times, but lately, he'd noticed that you were waking up early, even earlier than him. You had several hours before your usual wake-up time, so why were you also rising with the sun?

This new habit was starting to concern Higuruma, and he knew he had to find out what was going on.

It was midnight, and you were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a show but not truly paying attention to it. Sure, you loved the series, but your mind was preoccupied with intrusive thoughts. They had become more frequent lately, resurfacing after months of quiet. You yearned for the comfort of your gentle giant, but instead, you were left alone with your unchecked worries.

Higuruma, In your shared bed finally decided to talk to you after ten minutes of thinking about the matter. he walked into the living room to see you lost in thought,

“Love?” he said, his voice deep with sleep as he sat close to you on the couch, space didn’t exist to higuruma when it came to you.

You turned towards him wondering why he was out of bed.

“Hi baby, why are you awake? You have to leave in a couple of hours.” You said not wanting him to oversleep just because of yourself.

You snuggled into his side, feeling safe in his embrace. “Why haven’t you been coming to bed.” He was hoping he wasn’t the reason for your unhealthy sleep schedule.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Higuruma tightened his arms around you, his concern was evident in his tone. "Is everything alright y/n?”

His fingers gently grazed the skin beneath your eyes. “You look a little tired, love,” he said kissing the darkness under your eyes. You wanted to cry, he made you feel so safe.

“I mean I am a little tired but I can’t sleep, I’ve just been thinking so much,” you said becoming more embarrassed.

“I can’t stop, I keep guilting myself and beating myself up, I don’t know why I feel this way.” You said trying to hold back tears. Higuruma's heart clenched as he listened to your words, the pain and confusion you were feeling echoing through your voice. He pulled you even closer, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey," he said, his voice gentle. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"I wish you had told me earlier," he said, his own eyes filled with concern and love. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

“I know… I don’t know, I just didn’t want to burden you with me not knowing how to control my thoughts, I’m sorry.” You said looking down at your lap

“Why are you apologizing y/n? You could never burden me,” he said standing while picking you up, with his hands on your butt so you could face him.

“Okay,” he said with determination in his voice. “we’re going to bed, and if you can’t sleep tonight that’s okay, we’ll be up together and we can just sleep in later today.” He said entering the room and plopping you onto the big bed. “But we both have work.” You said.

“I’ll call Gojo and let him know you’re sick and can’t come into the school, he won’t believe me and he’ll probably think I’m trying to keep you all to myself which is true,”

He said with a deep chuckle. “and I have more than enough unused off days so I’ll be fine.”

He pulled you closer to him and squeezed you into a tight hug almost like he was trying to make you feel the undeniable love and devotion he has for you. “Get some rest, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said kissing your forehead and then your lips. He now was determined to ease your mind.

Reblogs are definitely appreciated!

Xoxo

[inthiseverymoment]

silhouettes emerging: chapter viii

"she Flies with No Fanfare but the Voice of Her Own"

and softly found, now fully realized, finally her mind was free.

iwtv oc, this chapter ~1.8k

reynaldo hahn fans rise

there'll probably be about one or two more chapters left of this. pretty please like reblog lmk what yall think etc etc

enjoyyyyyy

chapter vii fic masterlist

“So. When was enough enough?”

He’d waited to ask this, having studied her face for more than a few moments in the hanging silence of Isabelle’s confession. Blood tears stained her cheeks, and a very tired sort of fury had set itself behind her eyes, as if disappointed that the memories could still elicit this much emotion from her after so many years.

“Enough had been enough for a long, long time, if I’m being entirely honest.”

She collected her thoughts for a moment, then-

“Daniel?”

“...Yeah?”

It was not the first time she had called him by his name, but it certainly felt like it.

“You know how, by human standards-some human standards, at least-you’re supposed to have full mastery over yourself by a certain point? How, these days, if someone you’re with says something awful, all attraction to them is supposed to disappear if you’re a good enough person to simply stop desiring something once you learn it’s wrong? How it’s easy to feel like an awful person for needing to try in order to keep yourself strong?”

He blinked.

“You and I have led very different lives, Ms…Isabelle.”

“Yes, I certainly know that. I never had the space or privilege-or even the opportunity-to go wild and have my fun before learning all my ‘lessons’. From a very young age, I always told myself that I’d be better than those who let jealousy or lust or anything else cloud their souls, and even as I settled into a life of killing to survive among friends who killed for fun, that deeper knowledge-that judgement born of youthful idealism-weighed on me, a lingering burn at the back of my mind. I never had that messy teenage love, never got to get the hormones out of the way while it was still socially acceptable, and then I became eternally stuck at a perpetually guilty, emotionally intelligent but worldly naive, constantly wondering twenty-two.

“I listened night after night as Santiago promised our audiences that the darkest parts of themselves were encouraged here-and, though the audience knew it was all to gain their dollar, I could still feel the relief and release coming from just about every one of them. We were monsters, and so were they; the blemishes on every soul were celebrated for once. That is why the Théâtre des Vampires endured for so long.

“It is not a moral failing to yearn to be seen, but I was…I was not myself. Armand did so much to make me stay, because I think I was the closest thing to healthy he’d ever had-and I was another in his line of those who challenged his structures, who shattered what he’d started growing tired of. A new piece was written for me, everything he thought I wanted: a more earnest meditation on grief and life, a deep burgundy velvet gown and long opera gloves, and a French artsong to boot. And the audiences…”

“Didn’t love it?”

“Not as much as I’d hoped. Édith and I exchanged letters secretly and often, and she said she wished she could have seen it live, but she was one of very, very few. The occasional patch of audience members appreciated it, but most just wanted to get back to the mockery and killing. They all thought I was talented, though.”

She rolled her bottom lip for a moment, as if chewing it in thought without the act itself.

“Talented, but pretentious. It took a remarkable amount of self-control to keep from reading their minds too often; upon first being turned, I loved the opportunity to know what people were truly thinking about my performances, my appearance, me-”

A small twist came into her face here, as if cursing herself for self-centeredness once more, then she almost relaxed out of it-

“But that unlimited bombardment of others’ opinions…we’re not meant to live like that.”

“There’s a hell of a lot about the way we live that I’ll take a guess no one was ‘meant’ to experience,” Daniel said.

“That was another thing I loved about Louis’ perspective. I had so many of those same questions-is our nature inherently evil? How did this all begin in the first place? Are vampires creatures of God if there is one, of the universe, part of the food chain as anything else? Every intricacy of human development-the stages of grief, the growing and decaying of the mind, changing relationships, all that was supposedly meant-what’s the effect of eternity on humanity? So many of our kind have lost it, and I’ve tried, tried to hold on. But something about what Claudia said stuck with me; I’d always known the coven had a sense of ‘vampire pride’, but the way she put it made it seem like any other societally put-down identity, like something to truly celebrate. That’s one way it’s often been looked at in fiction, with the other being the curse that Armand had found it to be before Lestat…Lestated his way into things. I am proud of my power, but I cannot call myself proud of all I did to gain it.”

“And all of this inner turmoil got to be too much after about how long?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it too much exactly, the leaving was…something more noble than that, I’d hope. But this lasted a few years. I made a survival tactic of pushing away all of this questioning, of seeing only what was put in front of me; after a lifetime of trying to stick to a certain sense of morality, I needed some way to let go, so I suppose I just went entirely in the opposite direction. We had our motorcycle hunts, like the one Louis described, and those were heaven: the open sky, the glimpses of the centuries-old buildings we whipped past, our shouts and songs ricocheting through the streets, the half-righteous glory of bleeding dry those wealth-hoarding motherfuckers who turned a thousand blind eyes to the mounting political horror. I had a family. And a few members of that family resented me, a few outright hated me, but I had a wild kind of freedom that I had never felt at home. This was new, deliciously new, and I tried to focus on that feeling because I…frankly, Daniel, although my power grew as the ancient blood simmered and perhaps I could have escaped, part of me didn’t want to give up the intoxication of what I had.”

He nodded.

“Until?”

~

Nineteen Thirty-Eight, Paris, France

This was it.

The horrid and powerful theatre folk of Paris had been slowly extinguished, spaced out enough that suspicion would not find the Théâtre des Vampires, and tonight was the last. Their offense wasn’t quite as unforgivable as a few of the rest, but being condescending towards young artists was being condescending towards young artists, and she and her coven needed to eat.

Tonight would be the downfall of the company owners who had told Isabelle with a smile that she didn’t have herself quite figured out yet.

This one was petty, something in her said, just as petty as her lack of grief upon watching that privileged young bully meet her death all that time ago. It was that, she knew, that had likely been one of the first things to alert Armand to her vampiric potential. And for these years, she had dreamt of what it would be like to witness those vapid, fake-deep hypocrites finally realize that Isabelle de la Rue knew who she was.

What she had not expected was that their haunted gaze from the stage right wing, held in place by Gustave and Estelle, would be the only thing she could think of, boring through flowing masses of perfect auburn curls straight to the ever-present and oft-dismissed burn at the back of her mind.

The artsong that she and Sam had chosen was one praising the inherent beauty of night, fitting for a theater filled with creatures of darkness; and the auditorium, usually restless throughout its duration and eager to return to its crudely mocking laughter, was stiller tonight.

“La lune blanche luit dans les bois; de chaque branche part une voix sous la ramée…”

The white moon shines in the woods; from each branch, a voice emerges under the foliage.

Behind her, projections of trees swayed eerily as animations of glowing eyes between their branches appeared and then disappeared, gone with a breath to leave the audience wondering whether they were truly there at all. The haunting nature of the context gave a striking and oddly beautiful contrast to the peace of the song, and despite herself, Isabelle smiled, relishing one of the few nights that her audience seemed to get it.

It was nights like these that almost let her think she was just another young singer, living her human life’s dream.

Breathing deeply to fuel an upcoming high note, she looked up towards Armand, whose fingers absentmindedly tapped the piano accompaniment on the balcony as he gazed down at her with something close to true admiration.

“Ô, bien aimée,” she floated.

Oh, beloved.

There was love there, that was certain.

So why did this moment of peace feel like a respite, not like the usual course of her days?

She glanced over to the company owners, their faces hollow after their capture with hardly an ounce of the arrogance they had once held. As the piano continued, Isabelle took a moment to search their thoughts-

“L’étang reflète, profond miroir…”

The pond reflects, the deep mirror,-

They barely recognized her.

“...la silhouette du saule noir…”

-the silhouette of the black willow-

They did not recognize her.

“...où le vent pleure…”

…where the wind weeps.

Looking back out to the audience, she halted for a moment, then poured her sigh into her major sixth.

“Rêvons…”

As her vibrato bloomed, there was then a spark that came from one of the minds, that they suddenly had put a name to the face, but Isabelle was beginning to realize…

This is not the triumph I had thought it would be.

“...c’est l’heure.”

It is the hour.

Her face painted even more pale, her finger bound by a lover’s blood that seemed to weigh her hand down more with every passing month, standing cold in the spotlight while hundreds upon hundreds of bodies lay under her feet-

This is not proof that I know who I am.

This is…

This is quite the opposite.

“Un vaste et tendre apaisement semble descendre du firmament que l’astre irise…”

A vast and tender calm seems to descend from the sky of the iridescent star.

She had fancied the idea of leaving many times, but it had always come with a tinge of desperation or loss, of knowledge that that willpower would fade at one smell of rust and makeup backstage or one sound of Armand’s voice.

But as her rich soprano climbed through Hahn’s softly wondrous buildup, she breathed into the beautiful certainty that this time was different.

A liberating bittersweetness filled the air as Isabelle promised through her final notes that they would be her last upon this stage.

“C’est l’heure exquise.”

[qilingxiong]

四樓的天堂 | Heaven on the 4th Floor (2021)

One drama has crept into my life during the last days of 2024 to become my favourite one I've watched this year, and I barely know how to start talking about it. But let's give this a go anyways.

Heaven on the 4th Floor (四樓的天堂) is a Taiwanese drama starring Anthony Wong, Hsieh Ying-xuan, and Fandy Fan. I would call it mostly slice-of-life with some melodrama, as there's no strongly focused overarching plot. Rather, it follows a cast of characters and the struggles/hurdles in their lives they have to face, all of whom are helped/guided by the something all of them have in common— seeing a tuina masseuse named Tianyi (Anthony Wong).

I don't quite know how to describe the way this show develops, as everyone's arcs separate and overlap at different times, but I would say Heaven at its core is about healing. First and foremost about healing the relationship one has with their body and oneself, but also those with other people, with the past, and with the present-day world around someone. There's some interesting juxtaposition between the physical healing Tianyi can offer his clients, and the mental healing Hsieh Ying-xuan's psychologist character provides for her own, with a look at how one cannot do the work of the other. Some characters are recurring throughout the show, others you get to watch take a step forward in the span of one episode, but eventually, no one remains where they were at the beginning.

The character who has the most growth throughout all this, in my opinion, is Fandy Fan's Yuzhou, a young graffiti artist. It's by meeting Tianyi that he gradually manages to stop hiding from the past, but also start looking with hope toward a future, and find a way to be better in tune with himself, his body, and the art he creates.

Aside from healing, Heaven is also about loss, and how someone reckons with it. Past loss (the disappearance of one's loved ones, the yearning for something you never got to have), present/recent loss (the death of a family member, the ending of a relationship), and loss that inevitably lies ahead (the destruction of one's home and the fight to resist it, even if it's all in vain). Characters war with their grief and are forced to find ways to release and gradually accept it, and while my heart ached for different people at different points in time, it was beautiful to watch.

I cannot stress enough that with all this combined, Heaven is one of the most cathartic pieces of media I've ever seen. I cried an unexpected number of times, from the beginning of the show to the end, and it was never, ever in a bad way. The three leads especially did a truly incredible job bringing the viewer into their lives, taking them along for the emotional ride, and I wish all the actors had won awards for that (only one of them did, but she truly deserved it).

Production-wise, I also adore the quality of this show. It's somehow very soothing to watch, visually, and the accompanying soundtrack made me tear up several times. I had to shake myself out of a daze every time I took a break from watching; it both felt like I'd run a marathon, but also had been sitting still, head quiet, and had had someone tell me not to worry about anything else in the world for a while. (It also made me feel more physically present in my body. My shoulders haven't been un-tense in years, and I think thanks to Heaven I'm going to have to do something about that.)

In addition, this isn't the main focus of the show, but queerness is worked into it in wonderfully ordinary ways. There's more than one queer character and a trans character who show up in this, and one protagonist who is either heavily coded as or possibly explicitly aroace spectrum, depending on how much you read into it. Her arc ended up being one of my favourites; the show deals with her relationships lining up with aroace experiences in a way I haven't really seen onscreen before.

Overall, I'm absolutely going to rewatch Heaven in the future, when I feel that I need to return to that story. If you want a grounded, very character-driven show to get gently lost in for a while, this is it.

(Though admittedly, I know this drama definitely isn't going to be for everyone. It's a little bit sleepy-going, and not everyone is interested in or is braced to deal with the emotions of the story. Normally even I'm not, but here I am. However, if you're interested, here's the trailer for Heaven on the 4th Floor:

And I don't tend to do this, but I'm also going to toss out two tracks that sound how this show feels, to me: In My Breath Again from the soundtrack of After Yang, and 披星戴月的想你 by Accusefive. Sit with those for a while and see what you think, if it helps you decide whether to watch or not.)

Note: Unless you have Taiwanese Netflix, you're gonna have to jump on the pirate ship to find this show. However, as far as I'm aware there have never been English subtitles made for it on any site, so if you can't read the Traditional Chinese in the episode raws, then you may have to sit this one out for the time being.)

[vanfleeter]

My Love: Chapter 6

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Sara Warnings: 18+ || Gore. Vampires. Blood. Blood drinking. Murder. Death. Angst. Anger. Fear. Mentions of jealousy and seduction. Betrayal. Physical violence. Crying. Tears. A/N: Only two more chapters left for the first series. But have no fear, I have a surprise ;)

When I come back again, I’m laid out on the couch still in my clothes from last night. Blood stains from my shirt from where Chris stabbed the poker into my abdomen. My head throbs and my back is still in pain as I try to push myself up into a sitting position. “Here, drink this.. You’re going to need it..”

Lifting my head slightly, I can see Sam’s hand holding out a glass filled with blood for me to drink. I take the glass and drain it. “Danny and I have been out looking for any sign of her…” He says as he takes the glass back. “No such luck..”

“Can’t really find her when it’s only been twelve hours..” I say as I stand up from the couch. I clutch my head as it throbs again.

“Try two days..” He says.

“Two days?” I inquire.

Sam nods his head. “You’ve been out for two days… About as long as it’s been for Josh to get to the Onyx and back..”

“He thinks they might know?”

“Considering they were in cahoots with Chris?” Josh says as he walks into the living room. He drops his coat on the couch and rests his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I think so.. But.. Much to my dismay, they claim they have no idea where he took her.”

“Tell him what you did after that.” Sam snickers as he sits on the arm of the couch.

“I searched the place,” He says. “And not calmly either.”

“Tore the whole place apart,” Sam chuckles. “Who needs cannonballs when you have Josh’s fists?”

Josh smirks as he flexes his fists. I roll my eyes and start to unbutton the bloodied shirt. “So while you wasted time breaking shit and busting down walls, no one else has been looking for Sara?”

“Didn’t I just say that Danny and I have been looking for her?” Sam says as he shakes his head. “You people have got to start opening your ears more.”

“Well,” Josh pours whiskey into a glass and takes a drink. “You know Chris better than any of us.. You know all of the places that he owns.”

I scoff, sliding off my shirt. “If I did, I would have found him before he showed up here and shoved his tongue down Sara’s throat.” Huffing, I ball up my shirt and chuck it into the burning fire that Sam lit not too long ago. Staring at the fire, Sitovo crosses my mind. “Where is she?”

Knowing who I’m talking about, Josh points to the back windows of the living room that look over the backyard. “When we got back, Danny dragged her body out from the basement.” Sam explains.

I walk over to the window and look out over the yard. A large bonfire glows and Danny stands there nursing a beer while he watches the flame engulf Sitovo’s body. For once since she left, I don’t feel guilty and I don’t feel remorse. I don’t feel anything towards her. I don’t love her like I used to, I don’t love her anymore. She may have been my wife at one point in this lifetime but she hasn’t been for fifty years. The greatest pain of my life, the one who broke my heart and left it behind in pieces. It took me years to put it back together. Piece by piece. I finally did it and then I met Sara.

Sara.

My heart aches for her. Yearns for her. She’s out there somewhere, waiting for me to come find her and save her.

Turning away from the window, I leave the living room and head back upstairs to my bedroom. I still felt drained from these past events. The dull ache on my abdomen still persists as I gradually sit on the bed. A knock comes on the door before it opens.

“I know you’re upset but–”

“Josh..” I sigh. “I think I’m past the line of being upset.”

Josh comes to sit on the bed beside me. “We’re gonna find her.. And besides, if she’s really as tough as we’ve seen her be, I think she can handle herself until we get there.”

“And what if she can’t?” I say. “She’s still new to all of this..” I add, waving my hands around in the air. “Josh, I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know that? Can you somehow see into the future?”

Josh scoffs, “I wish..” He chuckles. “That would make life so much easier. I’d know everyone’s moves.. Maybe then I could finally beat Danny in a wrestling match.”

“Ha!” Danny laughs from the doorway. “Wouldn’t that be something.” Josh rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Suddenly Sam bursts through the doorway and collides with Danny. “Sorry, sorry..” He says as he pulls Danny off the floor. “Guys, I think I may have found a lead.”

I was the first off the bed and heading over to Sam. “What is it?”

“The Onyx was lying, for one.” Sam says. “So your little rampage was not a waste,” He chuckles. “I got a call from Ellis, and he said that Michael ordered Chris to take Sara. If they can’t kill her as a human, they’ll torture her until she goes insane.”

“And he didn’t say where they were taking her?” I ask.

“Nope..” Sam says. “But! He does know where to find Michael.”

“Alright,” Josh claps his hands and stands up from the bed. “Michael’s about to go from headhuncho to head-on-a-stick.” He says with a wicked grin. “Are we all in agreement?” One his hands land on my shoulder and I replicate the same wicked grin as him.

“I’ll make sure the firepit is ready,” Danny says with a wink before happily leaving the bedroom.

“We left him alone with the fire too long.” Josh chuckles.

“Let me get a shirt on and we’ll head out..” I say as I walk back towards the closet.

“We can’t go just yet,” Josh says. “You’ve been out for two days, had a metal poker stabbed through your body.”

“So?” I pull open the doors and step inside to grab a new shirt to put on.

“So..” Josh says as he follows me into the closet. “You need to rest and gain your strength back.”

I roll my eyes and pull a shirt off the hanger and slip my arms through the sleeves. He can’t be serious. The more time we waste trying to get me back to my normal self is more time they can use to harm Sara. I cannot waste time. I cannot let her slip away, not this time. I can only hope that she’s been able to take care of herself. I know she’s capable of it, and if she needs to tap into the monster side of herself, I hope she does.

Buttoning up my shirt, I turn back to the rack and grab an overcoat to put on and button up a few buttons.

“I’m fine..” I say as I go back out to the bedroom. “Let me feed on a blood bag and I’ll be good as new..”

Opening the jewelry box, I slide on a couple rings and flex my fingers. The metal of the rings clink against each other. I smirk at myself in the mirror as I imagine my knuckles sinking deep into Chris’ jaw as I finally pummel him into the ground. Maybe even take the fire poker and shove it into his abdomen, see how he feels.

“You’re thinking about killing him, aren’t you?” Josh says as I hook on a necklace around my neck.

“Oh yeah..” I say as I run my hand through my hair.

“Now what are you doing?”

“I have to look good while I’m doing it,” I wink before closing the jewelry box.

Retracting my teeth from her neck, I lick up the blood trail before dropping her to the floor. My chest heaves and I look up to see Sam watching me with a proud smile on his face. “Better than a blood bag, am I right?”

“Please tell me I didn’t kill her?” I ask as the adrenaline starts to slowly wear off.

“No.. No..” He says as he pulls the woman off the floor and hands her off to Danny. “Just..low on blood..” He nervously chuckles and pulls out a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket and carefully wipes off the blood from the corners of my mouth. “Now let’s test your strength.”

“Sam..”

“Just twist my hand..”

“I’m not going to twist your–”

“I bet Sara would look so good laid out on my bed while I–”

My hand flies to his neck and I grip tightly, feeling the anger flowing through my veins. “Don’t you fucking finish..” I growl.

“Okay..” He gasps as he pats on my hand. “I get your point.. Stop making my blood boil.. Not..comfortable..” He squeaks.

“Then stop imagining my girlfriend naked in your bed.”

“I can’t..help it.. She’s hot..”

“Keep talking..” I say as I squeeze tighter around his neck.

“Jake, he’s just trying to rile you up to test your strength,” Josh says as he walks up to us. “Let him go..”

“Not until he takes it back.” I say, my eyes never leaving Sam’s.

“You’re going to boil the man from the inside-out.”

“Good,” I say. “Maybe then he’ll learn to think before he speaks.”

I release my grip on Sam’s neck and he drops to the floor. I may sound possessive but I don’t care. Sara is mine and I don’t take kindly to other men thinking of her like that, or even looking at her. Taking her out to teach her how to feed, I was constantly having to fight internally with myself to keep calm as she worked her charm on them.

The first time I took her out publicly and to a more crowded place to give her a wide variety of options, she flirted effortlessly with the men in the bars we visited. She could easily seduce them without having to even say a word or even look at them. Just her walking by was enough to have them falling head over heels in lust for her. I nearly snapped the neck of one man who had put his hand dangerously close to her ass as she danced with him.

Over time she worked her magic on them and it worked every time. They all fell in love with her unaware that they would end up being her next meal before she’d make them forget anything ever happened.

She always made her way back to me by the end of the night and she’d take me in anyway she wanted. I always knew she’d come back to me, but the jealousy was ever present and that was all I felt as Sam yapped his mouth about her. Even though I knew he was only doing it to test my strength, all I could feel was that icy hot anger flowing through my veins and I wanted him to feel the same. Make every blood cell in his body boil and cause him pain.

“Yeah..” Sam groans as he stands back up on his feet. “He’s ready..” He rubs his neck and huffs. “Fuck, you really gotta stop with the blood boiling,” He says as he fans out his shirt. “I’m sweating like a pig..”

Josh chuckles, taking a sip of his whiskey as he hands me a glass. “Maybe choose your words more carefully,” He says.

“Maybe Jakey should work on his jealousy,” Sam grumbles. “Not a good look for you.”

Danny walks into the private room followed by Ellis. “We found Michael,” He says. “He’s been staying at a villa on the coast.”

“Good,” I down the whiskey that Josh had given me and I roll my shoulders. “Let’s go pay him a little visit.”

The oversized wooden doors fly open as Danny shoves them open. “Oh Michael!” I sing out as I drum my fingers along the wall. “I know you’re here..”

Stepping out into the large foyer, I look above me to find a sparkling chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceilings. Has to stay classy, of course. To my left, a hallway leads down to an open living area and to my right is a spiral staircase that leads upwards to a second floor.

Josh and I split off from Danny and Sam and made our way down the hallway to the living area. A fire crackles in the hearth but aside from that, the room is quiet.

Too quiet.

But that is when I hear it.

Seated in the middle of the room is a wooden, throne-like chair facing the burning fire. Josh nods his head to me and we slowly make our way down the few steps and approach the chair. When I see her hands resting on the arms of the chair, my body starts to move on instinct when Josh holds me back.

“What if it’s a trap?” He whispers to me.

A dry chuckle comes from her and she drums her fingers on the arm of the chair. Slowly standing to her feet, Sara turns to face us. Her eyes are the same bright red as from when she first transitioned. They were no longer the beautiful brown that they had gone back to after her body adjusted to its new self.

She held herself straighter and more seductively. She stood with elegance and a confidence that I’ve only got to witness myself when we’d be alone in private. I felt myself being drawn to her, unable to resist the magnetic pull. Though something was still off about her. The arrogance and smug attitude just isn’t her.

“Oh we’re fucked..” Josh comments from beside me. “She flipped her switch.”

I look back at Sara and she smirks. They made her into a weapon. Their weapon. But why?

“They were hoping you’d show up soon,” She says as she flips her hair over her shoulder.

“Sara, why did they–”

“I told you I’d keep her safe..” I hear Chris say as he steps out from around the corner.

I clench my jaw as anger courses through my veins. “What did you do?” I say through gritted teeth.

“Just made her into her true self,” He says as he places his hands on both of her shoulders. “A monster..”

“Sara, baby..” I say as I reach my hand out to her. Pain erupts into my hand, the bones within my fingers crack and start to snap and bend. “Sara, stop this.”

“She’s your worst nightmare, Jake.” Chris says. “The monster you were so fearful of making..” He chuckles and leans against the mantelpiece of the fireplace. “I lost count of how many she’s killed already.”

The pain ceased and her eyes traveled to Josh. He’s oddly calm as he watches her as she approaches him. “She was never a monster until you took her,” He says. Sara smirks and trails her finger over his jawline. “You made her who she is…”

“She simply became her true self,” Chris says. Sara continues tracing her finger along Josh’s jawline, her eyes telling a different story than what Chris is telling us, and only Josh is the one who knows the story. “The one thing that Jake despises most.”

“I could never hate her..” I say.

Feeling her hands on my shoulders, I feel her rest her chin on me, her breath blowing across my skin. Her fingers dug into my hair and she scraped my scalp with her nails. “He won’t kill her..” Josh says. “He loves her.”

“He loved Sitovo,” Chris scoffs. “We all saw how well that worked out. Seems Danny got his wish to watch her body burn. Maybe he’ll enjoy watching Sara’s body burn too when he learns of what she’s done.”

I pull away from Sara and fully turn to face her. “What did you do?” When she doesn’t answer me, I roughly grab her and throw her into the nearest wall. She simply laughs and smirks. “You better wipe that smirk off your face,” I say as I lock my eyes with her. “Don’t make me do it..”

“You know you want to, Jake.” Chris says. “She won’t even feel a thing.”

“Jake..” Josh warns beside me. “Don’t do it.”

“Tell me what you did.”

“You know Josh, if Jake here won’t kill her himself when she finally tells him what she did, Danny won’t hesitate.”

“Jake..” Josh says again.

“I…” Sara gasps. “Killed…Nora…”

“You did what?” Danny questions from the other side of the room.

“No, no.. Danny..” Josh says as he meets Danny in the middle of the room. “Listen to me..”

“She killed Nora?!” His eyes blazed with fire and his nostrils flared as he fought against Sam’s grip. “Jake, if you don’t kill her, I will.”

“Danny, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Josh says. He still knows something. She told him something. I look back at Sara, her smirk is unwavering yet I’m finding myself unable to still be angry with her. What did she tell him? What did she say in her mind that he could hear from her? “This is Sara, please!”

“I will love to see your body burn,” Danny growls. “I’ll enjoy it just like I enjoyed burning Vo’s body.”

I drop Sara to the floor and I’m on Chris in a flash. My hand is plunged into his chest, my fingers curling around his heart. For once I didn’t feel the slightest bit bad for him, nor did I feel that brotherly bond with him. The last three hundred years spent being this man’s friend meant absolutely nothing to me anymore.

“Jake…” He coughs. “We’re brothers…”

I scoff and bare my fangs. “You’re not my brother.”

“Danny..” Sam struggles to keep him held back. “Danny, please..”

“She killed Nora!”

I turn back to face Chris and I wickedly grin. “I’ve always wanted to do this…” Sinking my teeth into his throat, I pull and I tug until I’m ripping it apart, his blood dribbling down my mouth and down my own neck. He gasped and sputtered and I finally landed the final blow, ending the three hundred year friendship that was soiled the day he betrayed me and killed Sara. All of the good memories forever tainted and I didn’t have an ounce of care for any of it.

Yanking my hand from within his chest, I take his heart with it and let his now limp body fall to the floor. His eyes are lifeless and his power ends. Heaving and still holding his heart, I turn to face Sara. Fear has replaced the confidence and smugness in her eyes as she watches Sam and Josh struggle to keep Danny at bay.

“She didn’t kill her!” Josh exclaims. “Nora’s not dead!”

Danny slowly stops struggling against the two of them, though the fire never left his eyes as he kept his hold on Sara. Fear racked her body and she was trembling. He was making her feel that, making her fear who he truly can be.

I toss Chris’s heart into the burning fire before I slowly approach Sara. Her eyes finally leave Danny and she looks at me. Her eyes travel to my hand and then back up to my face. The fear was still there even as she laid her eyes upon me. She cowers when I caress her face in my hands.

“Please, please..” She trembles, her eyes now filled with tears. “I didn’t kill her.. Jake, you have to believe me, please..”

“I do.. I do..” I say.

“He wanted you to kill me… I’m sorry… I turned into a monster, I’m so sorry..”

“It’s okay..”

“No, it’s not!” She sobs. The tears finally escape her eyes and fall in jagged streaks down her cheeks. “I became the one thing you were afraid I would be.. I killed so many people, Jake. So many innocent people, I couldn’t control myself..”

Sara still trembles as I pull her into my arms and hold her closely to my body. Her sobs still rack her body as she apologizes over and over again. I’ve only seen one vampire feel so much remorse that it takes them over completely.

Me.

My first human kill was the most devastating thing to have ever happened to me. I had always thought dying and becoming a vampire was the most devastating thing to occur, but killing a human, feeling their life drain from their body and seeing the light go out in their eyes, it was the worst thing I ever could have felt. I destroyed the house, cried until I had nothing left to cry out, I forced myself onto the animal blood diet for years and I hadn’t touched another human for over a hundred years. It worked for me then, which is why forcing Sam on it after he tore through Michigan was the best option for him. I knew it would work, fix him on something else.

So in this moment, as I hold her in my arms with my bloodied hands tangled in her hair, I decide that putting her on the animal blood diet will ease the craving for human blood for as long as needed. I can help her work through her guilt, guilt that she shouldn’t even be feeling.

She was forced to kill, forced to flip the switch and become that monster that everyone denies lives within us. I don’t fault her at all, it wasn’t her choice.

“Please.. Please don’t kill me..” She still sobs into my chest.

I hug her closer and kiss her forehead. “I’m not going kill you,” I whisper against the side of her head. “I’m going to help you.”

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @oliverfuckingreed @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @katuschka @thetroublegetssoloud71

[karlachismylife]

Happy New Year

I am writing this in advance, since by my midnight I'll be sitting with my mum at our New Year table, watching Карнавальная ночь (a soviet New Year movie) and toasting. I just have a lot to say.

I apologize for being so absent lately, especially to people I basically ghosted. Past few weeks were hard, and your support meant to me a lot, but at some point I figured not responding was better than pretending I felt so much better than I actually did. Truth is, even the kindest words, no matter how much love you put in them, did nothing to pull me out of this pit. If anything, I harboured resentment towards your hopeful messages, which isn't your fault, obviously, but I know myself and I would have just lashed out on you. When you deserve only my love and gratitude.

My troop, my nikprice comrades, my darling readers and supporters - I would not have made it through these last months without you. COD fandom became my main gift this year. I am once again a lucky gorilla, and only God knows what I did to deserve this.

Last three days I have been constantly crying and looking out of my window with the most grim thoughts. But today I woke up with a much lighter heart. I wish it happened at least yesterday so I could write a better message to you all, respong to missed messages, but it is what it is and I am typing this between chopping salads for dinner with mum and taking a much-needed shower.

Even skies took pity on me and gifted me a gift I've been wanting to receive for weeks - a real, proper December snowfall. I want to share this winter wonder with you all.

And there is one person I will address after these pictures. @nrdmssgs I hope I have not yet become a bother to you, but I am not a person that can hold such things in. The letter below is just a fraction of my heart when I want to give it whole to you.

I don't know how to express this without coming onto too strongly, and I hope it will not scare you away, but I just need you to know, you are my New Year wonder. I have been feeling the "loneliness in a crowd" even here, there are dozens of people that accept me here, which is a fucking lot, but as my short time here passed, I realized that you are the one that actually gets me. I must be annoying with the constant "cultural code" jokes, and I am sure we are quite different people, but we do share something I had previously no one to share with. Bad or good, it is not for me to decide, but I am sure you understand.

From the moment I saw the opening of Nikolai and Zhar's story, I felt something I couldn't put in words - until you did. That yearning for a connection. You helped me realize a lot of things about myself in a very short time, and as someone with no sense of self or my own personality, I found an anchor in the reappearing thoughts "oh, they get it". You get it. You know it. You feel it. You understand me, and in the last weeks, when it felt like no one actually hears me (despite many listening and trying to hear), you were the one that heard me.

Fuck, it feels stupid to write this. But I have never actually been scared to do stupid things. So here is my love confession, the kind of love that grows inside grey walls of panel buildings, old carpets on walls, poorly tuned guitar strings and white books with Strugatskie's surnames on the covers.

I will write a separate love letter under that Nikto piece, pointing out every word and phrase that ripped tears out of me as I read and re-read it last night and this morning. But if last night I started crying on the second paragraph, today, when I woke up with a suddenly new found will to live at least another day, there was just one sentence that broke me again in the best way possible.

Обижают тебя тут?

Not anymore. Not while I can hold your hand through this nightmare.

If I could abandon everything and become a loyal dog at your feet or the wind in your curtains, I would. I doubt there is a way to repay for saving one's life so graciously and firmly.

Thank you. For hearing me. For existing. For gifting me the song that was taken from me. I sincerely hope I can stay by your side in the new year too.

My heart is full of [_].

Juju

[starz2005]

One of the many letters Zemo has written

Dearest James

It's known that hunters display their kills on the wall as a trophy, showing off their impeccable shot to whomever may enter their domain. A conversation piece above the mantle, an excuse to brag. At many a visit I've wondered if these men feel any remorse for having their victims pinned up for all to see, staring at them with pale plastic eyes in the dead of the night when only God is awake to judge them. I fear I've wondered this for I too have been a hunter, a man who's tasked himself with causing pain to all I've deemed rewarding of it.I'm forced to stare at you and wonder why I've torn you apart over and over again,for all the world to see. You're the very demon I cannot bare myself to face. The one who's suffered more than deserved, whom I've aided in hunting down. You're my deer on the wall, James.

Have I ever told you that I don't believe in second chances? I feel many people waste theirs and expect another, I find myself to be that particular sort of person. Someone with so much remorse and self pity,that he thinks everyone should be willing to welcome him with open arms again,only for him to fall back into the same sin over and over and over again. Again and again and again until you're so utterly sick,that you wish to tear flesh from bone, tear soul from body, and throw me into a deep, dark, bottomless pit from which my miserable personality can never taunt you again. I know how much you wish you could rid yourself of me James, forget everything about me and never hear from me again. I know it burns you up inside whenever I speak to you. You curse and spit fire on my name. Your amends are simply there to make you feel better about having such draining creatures in your life. I am the very beast you cannot rid yourself of.

And yet...still,I suffer to hear you call me such sweet names again. I dream of caressing your skin and feeling your touch. I want to live out every whispered fantasy you promised to me, feel your pulse speeding faster than the cosmos and taste your breath upon my tongue. I'm not allowed such pleasures, I shouldn't even dream of such pleasures to be fair. But how I do, how I beg the very gods that have cursed me to be this way,to let me be yours again, James. Let me be everything and more,let me be the man I could never be, the answer to your prayers and the fire within your soul. Let me uproot moutians from the soil to prove how much I yearn for you, how every fibre weaved within in me calls out your name like a mantra. How your thorns pierce my sides James, how you pour my blood to the dirt at your feet and curse me to lap it up like a dog desperate for your attention, desperate to serve you and you alone. Feed me like manna, let me taste your honey, let me consume you. Only God himself could know how much I need you,and only Satan can tell you how much I want you. My sin and my divinity.

Many have come and gone,but you remain a constant to me James, the one I could never rid my head of. I hope you write back soon.

Yours, Helmut Zemo

[that-basic-simp]

Blood & Bruises PT. II

Mizu x Fem!Reader Continuation of Part I. CW: Blood WC: 1.9k+ A/N: Thank you @oriiii1133 for requesting a second part! Also there are multiple changes in POV. Each change is labeled!

"Well, you're all healed now. You don't need me anymore," I chuckled.

"I can't thank you enough for all you've done," Mizu said as she was getting ready for her mission once more.

"Just promise me one thing, Mizu?"

"I know. Try to come back in one piece."

"Please. I-I don't know what I would do if you didn't come back."

"I'm sure you'd move on from me," she turned away.

Even though I couldn't really see her eyes that well, I could tell there was some form of yearning. That she wanted me to tell her that I would and could never move on from her. She would be right. I couldn't. Taking a step towards Mizu, I reached down and grabbed her hand, well, more of her fingers. Holding them lightly in my hands, I smiled down at how very feminine they were. I mean, yes, she's a woman, but they were nothing like a woman's. They were rough, calloused and there were some scratches and scars on them. When compared to mine, mine were soft and gentle.

"I don't think I could, Mizu."

She turned to face me, her head tilting to the side slightly. I giggled. She was cute when she was confused. Especially with her little head tilt. Letting go of her hand, I stepped away from her.

"Be safe, Mizu."

"You as well, Y/N," she said.

"Before you go," I tried to find a way to ask her.

Stepping towards me, she grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a hug. It was rare for her to initiate a hug. But there was something in this hug that I never felt before. Her hugs were usually light and careful. Now, they're tight and there is this lingering feeling when she removed herself from me. Like she didn't want to go. I didn't want her to go either, but if she must fulfill her hunger for revenge, she must go. I can't hold her back. No matter how I felt towards her.

"Y-You should be heading out. Y-You're losing light."

Mizu nodded and turned towards Ringo. I watched as the two of them walked away from my house. I was about to turn back and head inside, but a motion caught my attention, causing me to turn back. Facing Mizu, she was waving to me and so was Ringo. I smiled, some tears forming in my eyes as I waved back to them. They disappeared and I was left by myself once more, hoping and praying that Mizu would return safely. However, it would be my own safety I would need to worry about.

~Mizu's POV~

"Something doesn't feel right," I said to Ringo as we were walking back to Y/N's house.

"Well, you are bleeding more than normal."

"I thought you stitched up that wound."

"I did, but you're still bleeding."

I looked down and found there was a trail of blood splotches on the ground. I let out a sigh, but I knew we would be close to the house. But, something felt odd. The air was colder than it normally was, despite it being the middle of winter and where the snowstorms were the harshest. Quickly walking towards the house, my eyes widened with fear as my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. It began to pound against my chest that I instinctively grabbed my sword, removing it from its sheath. Rushing towards the house, the door was removed entirely and there was a stench of iron filling the air.

"Y/N?! Y/N?!"

I rushed further into the house and found there was blood splattered all over the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. I took in deep breaths, trying to control the fear that was slowly rising to where I could feel tears starting to form. What was I feeling? I had never felt this much fear for someone. Shaking those thoughts away, I slowly walked around the house. For all I know, the intruder could still be here. I heard rustling coming from the closet. Turning, I slid it open to find Y/N was sitting on the floor. There was a large gash in her stomach and her hand was soaked in blood.

"Y/N!" I yelled, sheathing my sword.

"A-Are they gone?" she whispered.

"I-I believe so," I said.

"You're safe," she breathed out, a smile on her face.

"You're not. Let me get you out of there," I carefully lifted her up and I walked her out of the closet.

Due to her blood loss, she immediately collapsed onto the ground.

"Y/N!"

I slowly laid her down and rolled her onto her back. Removing her hand that was covering the gash, it was pretty deep. It needed to be taken care of now.

"Why didn't you take care of it?"

"I-I needed to make sure they were gone before I could tend to myself," she winced.

"Stay right there. Ringo! Start making medicine!" I rushed out of the room and towards the kitchen.

I searched around for some needle and thread. My injuries would have to wait for now.

"What happened?" Ringo asked.

"I don't know, but Y/N has lost a lot of blood. And if I don't get that wound stitched, she will die. Will you have the medicine ready soon?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Master," Ringo caught my attention.

"Yes, Ringo?"

"Save her."

"Obviously I'm going to save her."

"No. Save her."

I nodded my head, walking back towards the room Y/N was lying in. Kneeling beside her, I removed her kimono, revealing the large, deep gash in her side. I took in a deep breath and raised the needle and thread. Carefully pushing the thread through the hole of the needle, I noticed my hands were trembling. I steadied myself and that was when I felt her hand on mine. I didn't care it was bloody, but it was starting to become cold.

"Mizu," she breathed out.

"Stay with me, Y/N," I said, putting the thread through the needle.

I started to stitch the wound, some small whines and whimpers coming from her due to the pain she was in.

"I know. I know. I-I'm sorry," I said.

"Mizu," she tried to get my attention.

"I-I'm trying my best, Y/N. I am not really great when it comes to this," I said, noticing the stitches were zigzagging haphazardly. I needed to restart them.

"I-I'm going to have to restart," I said, cutting the thread and removing it from the needle.

"You're safe," she sighed. Her breathing was starting to become shallow and uneven at times.

"Stay with me, Y/N," I said, getting more thread and about to push it through the hole of the needle.

She reached up and grabbed onto my hands, lowering them so she could find me.

"You're safe," she repeated. "B-Back...in...one...piece..."

"Y/N, don't speak. Focus on your breathing."

"BB-Before you ss-start," her eyes were starting to slowly blink now. She wasn't going to last the night if I didn't get this stitched.

"Shh. Please, Y/N," I said, a lump in my throat coming up and tears were stinging in my eyes.

"I j-just want you to know," her words were beginning to slur and jumble together, like she was about to fall asleep. "HH-How much I-I..."

"Y/N?"

"L-Lo...yo...M...zu..."

"Y/N?"

Her hand slipped from mine and fell onto the ground. Clenching my jaw, I took in a deep breath and calmed my nerves, my thoughts. Getting the needle and thread together, I stared down at the wound.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N," I said and began stitching the wound. "You showed me a lot of things that I never experienced. So you can't die on me now! Not until I've told you the same thing."

~Reader's POV~

My eyes blinked open and I found warmth nearby. Turning my head, there was a fire going and I had blankets covering me. Slowly sitting up, I let out a groan as pain started to pulsate in my left side. Removing the blanket, there was gauze wrapped around my abdomen. Lifting my head up, Mizu was sitting by the fire, beside me. She turned her head, a look of relief on her face as she turned her entire body to face me.

"You're alive," she whispered.

"B-Barely," I said.

"Here, some medicine," Mizu handed me a bowl with some broth and vegetables in it.

I slowly drank it and once it was finished, I handed the bowl back to her.

"Get some rest, Y/N."

"When did you get back here?" I asked, not remembering much of anything before this moment.

"About a few hours ago," she said. "You were in pretty bad shape. Do you recall what happened?"

"Some people came in and were looking for you. When they didn't find you, they tried to kill me."

"Did you fight back?"

"That was the only way I could defend myself."

"The blood splatter in this room."

"That was when I killed one of the guys who tried to kill me. The others fled, but when I was fighting the one, he got me pretty bad. I dragged his body outside and tried to clean things up, but my injury got too bad. From the blood loss, I was hallucinating and thought they came back to finish the job."

"Did you know it was me when I came here?"

"No. I thought I was hallucinating again. But," I reached over and brushed my fingers against hers. "You're really here."

"Get some rest, Y/N."

I laid back down and closed my eyes, feeling Mizu lay down beside me, keeping me safe in the night. When morning came, I was slowly moving around, under Mizu's supervision. I had to take medicine in the morning, at lunch, and at dinner time.

"How did your mission go?" I asked.

"Didn't really go well since I had to come back here to get patched up," Mizu said.

"Was it anything bad?"

"Kind of. But not to the level of how bad your wound was."

"Mizu," I said after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Y/N?"

"I-I've been meaning to tell you something."

"Hm?" she set down her tea cup and turned to face me.

"I-I've been meaning to tell you ever since you came here before you left."

"When you patched me up before now?" she asked.

"Yes. Well, actually, I should have told you before you left a few days ago. But that's besides the point. Actually, I didn't tell you because I thought I would hold you back from your mission."

"Tell me what?" she asked.

I couldn't tell if she was playing dumb or was actually curious. I smiled slightly just thinking about it.

"Tell you how much you mean to me," I said, avoiding her gaze.

"How much do I mean to you?" she asked, her hand reaching over to grab onto mine.

"You mean everything to me, but I fear that my feelings would get in the way of your revenge. That you won't give it your all. That you would be afraid to get hurt or to even die because you have to come back to someone. So that they won't feel--no--that I won't feel alone without you."

A small smile formed on Mizu's lips as she leaned towards me. I closed my eyes, readying myself to tell Mizu how I felt about her.

"I-I lov--"

I couldn't even get the words out. I was cut off by Mizu placing her lips against mine softly. My heart began to beat so fast and loud that I think she could hear and feel it. I let out a soft hum as I placed my hands on her cheeks, pulling her closer to me so the kiss was more firm. Pulling away, our cheeks mirrored one another's. They were flushed with a light pink.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

I smiled widely, giggling as I pulled her in for a hug. She hugged me tightly, resting her head on my shoulder. Pulling away, I leaned towards her and placed a kiss to her nose, earning another smile from her.

"Even if I do have a mission for revenge, I promise," she reached down and grabbed my hands. "I will always return to you."

"You better," I chuckled.

"For you," she said. "Always."

[nofootprintsinsand]

Some stuff I’ve written that I’m proud of

HP

Hinterland (Hermione/Tom, Hermione/Snape, WIP, explicit)

“A time traveller, are you? I rather think I will keep you."

He strokes her cheek, and she bites down on a whimper. She is tired now. Exhausted.

“There is a kind of winsome audacity about you, isn't there? And you are as brave as a fool.” He shakes his head. “It’s quite interesting. And sometimes, I get bored.” A smile. Too wide, too many teeth. There are no borders drawn in his gaze, no cartography at all. “This will be tremendous fun.”

Dimmuborgir (Hermione/Tom, complete, explicit, 93,262 words)

He steps straight out of the shadows one late autumn evening, but she is not afraid.

At least not at first.

A Crown of Dying Stars (Hermione/Tom, complete, explicit, 16,486 words)

The setting moon is but a shard in the sky, and it looks sharp and deadly. She wants to pluck it from its place in the heavens and run him through with it for making her feel like this.

For making her yearn.

another year, broken apart into memories (Hermione/Snape, complete, explicit, 12,706 words)

“Ready?” she asks, and with the question finally turns around to face him.

He is stiff, and angry. Hates being made vulnerable like this. She can tell; the way he grinds his teeth, straightens his back. His words, when they come, are chewed up and spat out, sharp little pieces of flint.

“Fucking… Just get on with it.”

She nods once, and points her wand at him.

“Obliviate.”

Hannibal

Typhoid and Swans (Hannibal/Will/Clarice, complete, explicit, 82,119 words)

The first time Clarice sees the stag, she is walking in the woods surrounding Will Graham’s old Wolf Trap home.

With her mentor and friend Jack Crawford dead, and her once-promising career in shambles, Clarice Starling decides to find out what really happened to Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.

Far Cry 5

we live in the dreams you had (female deputy/Joseph Seed, female deputy/John Seed, explicit, complete, 56,451 words)

“Freedom of choice is a wonderful thing. Until it’s not anymore. I fear I can no longer allow you that luxury. I fear I must avail myself of a more...hands-on approach.”

Joseph takes a different route to the end

his vows pulled out all her sinews (crossover: Far Cry 5/Sicario, Kate Macer/John Seed, complete, explicit, 40,757 words)

“...what do I want to know about you?” asks this man who eats confessions like amuse bouches, and she can tell, she can tell how violence is only a wrong word or a right word away. She can’t possibly predict or read him accurately, and this coiled recklessness living inside her makes the situation heady.

Terrifying.

Fine, she’ll give him something. He has worked hard for it, earned it, look, that is sweat on his brow!

She smiles, but there are tears in her eyes.

“A man put a gun under my chin and told me I that reminds him of his daughter when I am afraid.”

The Boys

you know, I still wait at the edge of town (Butcher/Starlight, complete, explicit, 28,152 words)

He hates her and she hates him, kiss kiss.

[midnight--sadness]

Real talk when you put up the 🍆 poll i thought we were answering based off of looks alone. Based off of vibes though? Sangwoo. On account of him giving “grower not a shower” vibes, AND the fact that he was willing to rip and tear through 454 people for a hot piece of ass he had been pining and yearning for for YEARS??? Yeah that 🍆 is BIG.

we are talking about vibes, looks, vibes and looks, whatever u guys want to use to vote 😩 everything is fair games here

you absolutely read my mind! i agree with this 100%!!! 🤧

also i vibe with sangwoo on a spiritual level bc i also would kill myself for gihun, and i also would pine and yearn and stare lovingly if i couldn't have him 💖 its bc of this vibeness that i know his 🍆 is big, like i saw it on the astral plane 🙏

[lovelyiida]

what if pro hero bkg is in a relationship with a reader and she later confesses to him that she is a villain and has been tasked with seducing him but she fell for him fr?? how would he react?

❥: when I go through my asks I always circle back and read this one. And whoever you are out there; I’m finally gonna do it lmao. I think I gave this ask a more poetic adaptation so it may not be the best when it comes to getting straight to the point so I apologize in advance :D

FEM READER X BAKUGO, SEMI-VULGAR LANG (mentions intimate body parts), NO PROOF READ!!

traitor, nymphoid, huntress, cold-hearted, ruthless, calculated.

that’s who you were, and you were never told you were anything else. You had a role within society; kill or be killed. And you decided to kill.

Seven months you’ve been killing, killing ever so slowly—ever so softly.

Kill him with a dagger, kill him with a gun, kill him within an injection. No, kill him with something unexpected…something beyond his own comprehension.

Kill him with love.

You knew he’d be easy to obtain, a young pro-hero experienced within every aspect of heroism. Except for his birth-given right; love.

But where you knew he lacked, you once flourished. A villain isn’t born, a villain is created by the villainy of society.

Sweetheart, caring, selfless, sensual, beautiful, smart…

These words that he called you; foreign to your own being sent shivers down your spine. With every word uttered a piece of you is reformed.

The way his eyes sparkle when his looks into yours. The way his smile grows as he hangs on to your every word. The way the slightest touches sends a spark through your every being.

The way your souls dance within every moment you’re together.

When was the last time you actually danced?

A hidden compassion? All behind closed doors. A connection no one else can see, no one else can know, no one else can understand. A connect you’re willing to give away your life for.

What about killing him? Yearning to end him? Yearning for revenge? Yearning for victory?

Why do you feel so foreign? Why do you yearn to give the deepest parts of your soul to him?

Do you even believe if you showed the real you to him; he would give you his soul in return?

Your souls cannot dance any longer, so why do you yearn for them to merge?

Why do you yearn for him?

Tears, regret, shame, anger, heartbreak…

“So what? What we had wasn’t real?” The young hero looks at you. Eyes glossed in anger as he pried answers from you.

“It was everything I thought it would be” you said, eyes dull; emotionless. You watch as the blonde shifts back into the metal seat. A heartbroken scowl trying not to emerge in front of you, he won’t give you that satisfaction.

“But, it was nothing I could’ve prepared myself for.”

You sat before him, dirty, wounded, defeated, and uncovered. The league of villains were unsuccessful with a certain phase of the plan, and decided to throw you under the bus.

They knew you were the easiest to dispose of, the most weak-minded, the most-likely to break.

Taking a deep breath, you try to look into his eyes but you cower at the sheer thought of an attempt. “Bakugo, what we had didn’t matter to me, you were just a quota with a dick.”

Looking up at him, with a shit-eating grin you pose your best poker face. The blonde was reationless. Slowly standing up; his movements were calculated.

Turning off the camera with ease, he stands and looks into your eyes. A face of disappointment and longing.

“Dispatch—videotape 009 clear” Bakugo shouts out to the air. An “All clear,” sounded off with a loud buzz.

Looking down, you jolt as the iron cuffs slipped from your wrists. The hero then grabs you with force and leads you out the door.

Leading you underground, he then throws you into your cell with force. Huffing out a groan in pain you scurry to the bars.

Eyes filled with tears and lip quivering, you look into his eyes. “Katsuki—“

“Katsuki? You have no right” he scoffed, turning his back to you he begins to walk away.

Frantic, you yell out his name once more. “Katsuki, I love you! I mean that!” You cried. Stopping in his tracks, he turns to look at you once more.

Eyes cold, calculated, evil.

“I gave you a chance in there to prove yourself and you didn’t, y/n.”

“You’re dead to me.”

❥: @xo-evangeline , @nar00 , @king-dynamight , @gold24fish , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @elegantvoids , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @snxwycloud , @skylardarling