#the majority of us don’t remember ever feeling like a kid
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the-fallen-collective · 5 months ago
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What is like to be a kid?
What is like to run around outside?
To have a colorful imagination?
For life to not be an unstable ride?
To not be tainted by those with selfish ambition?
When you’re five, are you still a kid?
Did you get to just have fun with friend?
When you’re six, is that not the start of your descend?
Not having to worry about meeting one’s end?
When you’re 8, does life still feel great?
Were you able to live outside constant fear?
When you’re 9, are you not held down by weight?
Never wanting to disappear?
When you’re 13, are you still able to smile?
Able to walk without guilt?
When you’re 14, can you still make life worthwhile?
Existing without feeling your world tilt?
How do I be a kid?
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unfinishedslurs · 2 years ago
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gay bar (steddie)
“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”
Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 
“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.
The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“
As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”
It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!
Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.
Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”
“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”
“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”
Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”
He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 
Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”
What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”
“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?
Eh. Doesn’t matter. 
“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”
He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”
“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”
“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”
“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”
He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”
“Which one?”
“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”
“How do you even know about that?”
Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”
“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”
He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 
Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 
Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 
“That can’t be right.”
“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 
“You were Prom King.”
“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 
Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”
Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”
Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?
Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 
“What?”
“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 
Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 
No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 
He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 
He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 
“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”
What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”
Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”
Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”
“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 
Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 
“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 
He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 
“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”
“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”
“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 
Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”
“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”
Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”
“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”
“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”
“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”
Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 
“What?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Well, yeah. Duh.”
“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”
“Oh, so you’d call him because…”
“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”
“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”
“…Steve?”
“Yeah!”
“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”
“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”
“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 
“Are you drunk?”
“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 
“I just talked to you yesterday.”
Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, Steve.”
“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”
“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”
“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”
“Munson?”
“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”
“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”
“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 
“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”
“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”
“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 
“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“
“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 
“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”
“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 
“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”
“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”
“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”
“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”
“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 
“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”
Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”
Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”
“Didn’t he die?”
“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”
“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”
Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”
“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”
Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 
“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 
“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“
“That was him?”
“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”
“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”
“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 
“Oh, god, did you punch him?”
“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”
He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 
“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”
“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”
“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”
“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 
“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”
“Dude.”
Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 
“Well, Harrington?”
“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”
Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.
He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.
He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.
“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 
“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.
“Ugh. Who would want that?”
Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“
“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”
Eddie turns beet red in record time. 
“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”
“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”
“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”
Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 
Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 
“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”
Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”
“The what?”
Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”
“…oops.”
“When?” Eddie demands. 
Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”
Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 
Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”
Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 
Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”
Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”
“Steve!”
“You do!”
“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”
His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 
“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”
“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”
“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”
“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”
“I do?”
“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 
Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 
“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”
“You could leave.”
She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.
“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”
“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 
Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 
He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 
Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 
From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 
The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 
The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.
Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.
The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 
Robin has been similarly affected.
“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”
“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 
“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”
“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”
She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 
Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 
“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”
Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 
“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 
Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 
“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 
“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”
Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 
“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 
With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 
“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”
“I dunno, I think it might be working.”
“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 
“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”
“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 
Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“
“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”
Steve stares. 
“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”
“I mean, not really.”
“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”
“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”
Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 
“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”
“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”
“Thought I was fucking you.”
“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”
“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”
“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”
“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.
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chronicdisasterwrites · 1 year ago
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gotta keep these kids on leashes
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru, shoko ieiri (gojo’s past arc)
genre + warnings: - MAJOR FLUFF !! alooot of swearing, smoking, sexual jokes, mention of grandparents doing it (lmao you gotta read it to understand), reader wants to murder the bois, suguru wants to die, everybody is CRAZY!
word count: 3,350 (rip)
summary: OKAY i wrote it. the dynamic quartet is back doing... nothing good. suguru gets hit on, the three losers do crazy stuff and surprisingly no one dies (shocker) :0
enjoy this tomfoolery <3
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The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the curses are dying and you're not the one doing the killing, your head isn't pounding and your bed is so, so soft. Your window is slightly parted so the cool breeze is making the curtains dance and your skin prick. Nuzzling your head on the plush pillow and pulling your blanket higher so only your head is visible, you open your eyes, check the time, remember you have no classes, smile to yourself and dive back into the warm embrace that is sleep. 
Until the tranquil atmosphere is disrespectfully shattered by the idiots you call your ‘friends’.
Your door is kicked open and the sudden sound was enough to make you jump and reach for your katana leaning against the bedside table. Your vision is blurry but your katana is half unsheathed as you contemplate killing the two perpetrators. 
“Yeesh, you're hostile in the morning,” Satoru grins as he kneels on the ground and rests his obnoxiously large head on his obnoxiously large palms on the foot of your bed, like some petulant child who broke a vase and is now being their best self to appease their parents. “Nice bedhead,” his grin gets exponentially larger and your hand twitches against the hilt of your katana.
“I told you we should've knocked. You never listen, Satoru,” Suguru sighs as he walks through the gap that used to be your door. 
Your morning is thoroughly fucked. The birds are dead, the curses are in your room, your head feels like it will explode and there are tiny fragments of wood all over your bed. 
Your jaw clenches and eyes darken as you fully unsheathe your katana with the pure intention of murdering these morons. 
“I will give you 10 seconds to run and hide.”
“Aw c’monnn,” Satoru’s obnoxious voice drawls as he attempts to pat your head, but before your blade had the chance to amputate his wrist, Suguru’s hand held Satoru’s away from you; therefore preventing a major bloodshed from occurring. Ever the mediator.
“Okay I think we pissed her off enough, Satoru,” Suguru says calmly as Satoru pouts with a small “Aw man”. Suguru lets go of Satoru’s hand as he slowly takes the katana from your hands and puts it into its scabbard. Releasing a breath he places his hand on your head and gently smooths down your wild mane. 
He drawls your name and you look at him with furrowed brows and a deep scowl. 
He chuckles, “We’re gonna have a day out and you can get all the mochi and pancakes your heart desires. Our treat, for ruining your sleep and…” he looks at the desecrated door, “���your door.” You hear Satoru whine about why you let Suguru touch your hair and not him and choose to ignore it.
He smiles when he sees the glint in your eyes at the mention of mochi and pancakes and your scowl gets smaller and brows get straighter. You sigh and get up off the bed, “Fine. I have to get dressed so get out.”
“Don’t be late, mochiii~ we’ll be waiting.” He manages to dodge the hairbrush you throw at his head perfectly as he jumps up to run out of the room while giggling like a schoolgirl.
Suguru laughs as he follows his dumbass friend out and you look at your completely fucked door, wondering what you did to deserve this. 
—-
“Can you shut up, please? I'm begging at this point,” Your voice is tired and your eyes are glaring holes into the brunette’s head as she laughs and chortles into oblivion. 
“They- broke your- they broke your door-” more laughter. “Dude this is a comedy-” more laughter and snorting. “comedy- gold-” Shoko slaps the table and wheezes as various strangers stare at the two of you and mutter among themselves with concerned faces.
You silently poke at your half-eaten cheesecake as you try to forget the events of the morning and ignore the moron sitting before you. 
“Why didn't they torment you like that?” you grumble as you cut up the poor cheesecake with your fork and turn it into mush.
Shoko takes heaving breaths and sniffles as she takes a sip of her matcha latte and drags her chair forward. Her voice is light and thoroughly amused, “Because I'm not fun to tease. You, on the other hand, are the best person to tease,” her lips tilt up to a grin as she stirs her drink with her straw.
You stare at her with dead eyes. “I hate you,” you deadpan.
“Yeah, I love you too,” her grin gets wider and a few chuckles escape her as she bites on her straw.
The mall was pretty packed considering it was the weekend. Pretty girls window shopping and checking out people with their pretty friends. Couples walking around holding hands and laughing at each other's jokes. It was fun to watch them live their lives, as you lived yours. You wish you wore one of your cute, normal outfits instead of your uniform, just for today. But as you look down at your uniform, you appreciate it more. This uniform got you through some crazy times. Some near deaths, some deaths, a lot of blood. You feel comfortable in it, and it doesn't look completely awful. 
Suddenly, you hear your name and Shoko’s name being yelled at in the distance and you both look at each other apprehensively and look around the little open cafe you were in. You quirk an eyebrow at Shoko and she shrugs, but then the sound of Satoru’s obnoxious voice yelling both of your names cuts through the chatter of the crowd and you both look to the side to see him running toward your table at full-speed screaming like an idiot. The moment he reaches your table he slams both hands down and heaves and wheeze as people stare at you with genuine concern.
“What the hell?! I've been looking everywhere for you two,” Satoru yanks Shoko’s matcha latte from her hands despite her “Hey!” of protest and makes a scrunched-up, disgusted face upon inspecting the bitten straw. He proceeds to open the plastic lid, chug the remaining latte, crumple up the cup into a tiny ball using his Limitless technique and drop it on the table for you and Shoko to gawk at. 
He then looks at your cheesecake-turned-paste concoction and makes another face of pure disgust. “Can't you losers eat properly? Jeez,” he complains as he takes your plate and finishes the cheesecake mutation in two bites.
“Satoru…” you sigh for the umpteenth time that day, as you pinch the bridge of your nose.
“What do you want?” Shoko completes for you with her nonchalant voice as she rummages her purse for her pack of cigarettes. At this point, you know you need one too.
He makes wild arm gestures like a cheerleader for every word he utters, “Suguru. Is. Getting. Hit. On.”
Your face is unimpressed and Shoko says “Aha” while holding up a pack of cigarettes.
Satoru visibly deflates as a look of pure shock crosses his face at the shameless nonchalance you both are portraying.
“Okay. So?” you shrug as you pick at your nails with your teeth.
Satoru pulls your hand down and holds it there as he leans down and gawks at you with his jaw dropped and furrowed silver brows. 
“No, no. This is serious. Suguru is getting hit on and we're wasting time,” he stares into your eyes and you can see your reflection in the dark glass of his sunglasses. You bring up your free hand to fix your hair using his sunglasses as a mirror and something in his head cracks as he jolts up, grabs Shoko’s hand, and pulls you both towards the scene of the crime. You both scramble to take your purse and you leave more than enough money on the table before being dragged away by a tall, crazy man.
“Listen up. We are going to embarrass the shit outta him, okay?” He's walking faster as he makes his way out of the air-conditioned mall towards the outdoor food court. You and Shoko are reluctantly following him as you honestly have nothing better to do and you can't lie; embarrassing Suguru sounds really fun. 
“Roger that, sir,” you do a mock salute and hear Satoru chuckle. “What's the plan?” 
“You two will attack first. Shoko you gotta be as scary as possible and-” Satoru’s master plan phase-1 was interrupted by Shoko asking a tangible question. Or actually; questions.
“How scary? Can I slap him? Can I throw water on his face? Should I cry?”
Satoru groans and starts walking even faster. “Okay, you can do all of that, but remember your role is the ‘cheated girlfriend’, alright? You're mad but sad. Mad and sad.”
You hear Shoko mutter “okie” right as Satoru says your name, “You can act as the ‘cheated wife’ or something. Cry, latch onto him, beg him. Go crazy,” he throws a sly grin over his shoulder and you're concerned about the evil lilt his voice took when he said the word ‘crazy’.
“And what about you? What's your role?” you ask as you feel him slow down. You look ahead and see Suguru talking with a pretty woman with long, straight black hair. Satoru stops, steps behind you and Shoko, and says with his usual cocky demeanor, “You’ll see, Lil' Mochi,” and doesn't give you the chance to complain about the nickname as he shoves you both towards the victim of ‘Satoru’s Master Plan Phase-1’.
You and Shoko look at each other with devilish grins as you activate your inner drama queens and launch yourselves toward one unaware, unprepared Geto Suguru.
You gasp and squeal with a shaking hand against your open mouth, “Oh my- Geto Suguru?! How dare you! Especially now- how could-” You choke on a fake sob and place your palm on your stomach as Suguru slowly turns back with wide eyes and a bulging vein on his temple. 
“While I'm pregnant with YOUR CHILD?! You're inhuman!” you fall to your knees fake crying your heart out as you cover your face with both palms and try your hardest to not break character.
You hear gasps all around you and the sound of Suguru stuttering, and you wonder if you overdid it.
You then feel someone lift you with their hands on your arms. You glance to see Shoko acting all ‘mad and sad’ as you fall into her arms and fake cry some more.
“It's okay, I understand,” she pats your head with her soft hands and spits fake venom at an even more bewildered Geto Suguru. “He tricked me too. He was cheating on you with me first, you know?” You crank up the fake crying upon hearing this and you feel Shoko’s chest shake and you feel your concentration slipping.
Shoko nudges your head and you look at her with completely dry eyes, as you keep clutching your completely baby-less stomach. Shoko pulls out two water bottles and hands you one. She nods at you and you nod at her. You both look at Suguru and he looks like he just watched his dead grandmother have sex with his dead grandfather or something. He looks aghast. You and Shoko walk towards him and Shoko steps ahead of you as you wait your turn.
“This is for cheating on me, you spineless pig! Even though I was cheating on you too!” she declares as she drenches Suguru in cold water. You hear more gasps and you see the woman he was previously talking to blanch with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. Suguru stands completely still as his bangs drip with water and his left eye twitches in pure rage.
Well, it's your turn. You step up and stare him down and fear for your life when Suguru stares back at you with a dangerous look in his eyes. You gulp down your fears and put on the bravest face you can muster, “And this is for breaking my heart and my hymen! And you weren't even that good!” For the added effect you choke on a fake sob after the last sentence and dowse him in some more cold water. You hear a bark of laughter from the crowd and you huff and hold onto Shoko as you both slowly step away from him as his cursed energy slowly grows and grows. Suguru drags his hand down his face and flicks his wrist splattering water by his side when you hear an obnoxiously loud scoff followed by an even louder voice.
“Can you stop your cryin’? It's hurting my ears,”
Satoru stands there looking like a full-on trophy wife, left arm stacked with shopping bags and right hand on his hip. Dazzled in a silver satin shirt; he definitely wasn't wearing before, with the top buttons open and sunglasses perched on his head, giving the crowd a clear view of his glittering sapphire eyes and very open chest. 
You and Shoko gape at him in horror and you both look back at Suguru who looks like he might just explode. His uniform is soaked, his front hair is sticking to the side of his face, and his eyes just about look like they do when he’s fighting curses, except now they look unmerciful.
“Sugu, I'm done with my shopping. How about we go look at some furniture now, hm? ” Satoru slings the shopping bags over his shoulder and sends Suguru just about the sultriest look you've ever seen his face make. 
You glance at Shoko and she glances back, and you both bite your lips to stop yourselves from spiraling into a peal of uncontrollable laughter. 
Suguru seems to have had enough, as his eyes glazed over and he turns around to face the downright terrified lady. 
“You seem nice, but I have some…” Suguru pauses, rethinks his sentence, and continues with a curt nod, “Well, take care.”
He gives her the sweetest, fakest smile as she returns a smile that looks more like a grimace and turns away. She looks back again and sees you and Shoko clutching onto each other for dear life, Suguru still smiling at her with a twitching eye and veins popping on his temple and neck, and Satoru spinning around swishing his shopping bags and singing Suguru’s name like a prayer, and quickly walks away. 
The crowd slowly dissipates as you, Shoko, and Satoru stand in silence and Suguru slowly turns around, smile gone, and eyes narrowed, “You idiots… are lucky I didn't like her.”
You break first, and then Shoko, and soon the two of you are shaking each other, rolling around and laughing like absolute menaces. Satoru chortles seeing Suguru’s unimpressed poker face and walks up to him, placing the shopping bags down on the floor.
“C’mon it was funny and besides, we saved your ass. She seemed so boooring,” Satoru drawls and gags.
Suguru exhales as he closes his eyes and the muscle in his jaw twitches. Satoru finds a chink in his armor and grins. He's gonna break.
Satoru laughs and throws his arm around his best friend's shoulder and calls out to you and Shoko.
You two wheeze and try to catch a breath as you see Suguru’s serious face on the verge of breaking.
“Suguru, for the record, I thought she was really pretty,”
You voice your opinion with an innocent smile and Satoru facepalms. 
Shoko giggles and shoves you, “That doesn't help, you idiot.” 
You throw your head back and laugh, “I dunno dude, I think I lost a bunch of brain cells after that performance.”
“Not like you had any to begin with, Mochiii ~” Satoru mocks and you launch yourself at him as you both run around Suguru, you yelling profanities at Satoru and Satoru chanting “Mochi” and laughing like the actual spawn of the devil. 
Suguru finally cracks. Resting his hands on his knees, he bends down and laughs freely, uninhibited; like a child. Shoko smiles and takes out two cigarettes from the pack she safely kept in her uniform pocket. She puts one between her strawberry lips and taps Suguru on his drenched head with her knuckles. Suguru looks up, his laughter subsiding, and accepts the outstretched cigarette held between Shoko’s fingers. He places it between his lips as he rummages his pockets for his little orange lighter. Finding it, he lights his cig and holds it in front of Shoko, as she lights her one. They stand next to each other and smoke their cigarettes while watching Satoru teleport behind you as he grabs you by the waist and spins you around. The sound of his cackling and your screaming fades into the background as Shoko asks, “You think they’ll ever tell each other?”
Suguru leans his head back and blows smoke into the sky. As people start filing out of the food court, you and Satoru were the only rambunctious morons making all the noise in the entire area. He looks at the scene unfolding before him; your head is locked between the junction of Satoru’s arm as his knuckles attack you with fierce noogies. You’re giggling while flailing around like a fish out of water as you try to shove him away but to no avail. Suguru huffs a laugh and takes another drag of his half-smoked cigarette, “Maybe, but not without help.” He nudges Shoko’s shoulder with his own and gives her a devilish grin. Shoko chuckles and stubs out her cig on the sole of her shoe, “What were you thinking? Push their faces together or ask Yaga Sensei to assign them on a joint mission?” She snorts, “That’d be something.”
Suguru hums. He stubs the cigarette butt on the ground and puts it in his pocket and says grinning cheekily, “Nah, I was thinking something more ridiculous. Something fit for two morons of their caliber.” 
Shoko quirks an eyebrow and shakes her head with a smile, “Alright.”
You manage to escape Satoru's iron-clad grip after much effort. You boot him on his shin and make a run toward Shoko, tackling her in a massive bear hug. Shoko reciprocates the hug and you two waddle around conjoined like two baby penguins. 
“Ow! That hurt!” Satoru limps toward Suguru and leans on him with his arm on his shoulder while Suguru does a hand-clapping motion. He receives a flick on the cheek from Satoru for that. 
“That was literally the point, stupid,” you flip him off as he returns the very thoughtful gesture. You both chuckle and Suguru and Shoko send each other cheeky looks.
“Don’t think this is over, by the way,” Suguru says with a vengeance as he flicks you and Shoko on the forehead, to which you both reply with a small “ow”.
“I will get you all back for this. And it won't be pretty,” he ends his threat by flicking Satoru on the forehead; to which he replies with a whiny “I'm already injured, maaaan”.
“Bring it on, champ,” you grin and smack him on his back as you finally release Shoko as you pick up the shopping bags and swing them by your sides. Satoru joins you and takes a few off your hands as you all make your way out of the mall. The golden light marks your path with an incandescent glow. Time flies by incredibly fast when you’re with these children. It's scary, but at the same time, it's humbling. Being with them makes you want to live. They inspire you and drive you to reach greatness. They also make you want to store these precious moments into unbreakable vials or freeze time so you never have to leave. Nothing would go wrong, it would just be the four of you, through thick and thin, through blood and dust, through life and death. But you know you’re smarter than that. However, for today, you'll let yourself dream a little.
“So, how about some KFC?”
——————————————————————————-
a/n: not another slow-burn, pining, friends to lovers situation w satoru and reader whoops-
tagged: @porridgesblog, @stray-npc
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hangup119 · 4 months ago
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FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩
18. all's well that ends well word count | 3k
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YOU’VE BEEN FRIENDS WITH ANTON LEE SINCE YOU CAN EVEN REMEMBER. You met each other as kids, forced to hang out with each other at a house party his parent’s had invited your family to. Given that you two were around the same age in comparison to the other kids who were still oblivious babies or whiny toddlers, it was only natural for you and Anton to gravitate towards each other: wherever he went you would follow, your fondest memories with him being when you both constantly abused your ‘big sister’ and ‘big brother’ privileges to boss the other kids around. 
But in comparison to you who always got a little too mean towards the little kids, Anton was much more lenient; it was why they often favored him over you, which you didn’t really mind. That meant they’d bother you less during parties. But it was still you who hung out with Anton the most and it was you who stuck to his side even if the younger kids didn’t really want you around. Then middle school came, and you two gradually drifted apart until you had your own set of friend groups in high school—you were off with Minji and Sunoo and Taesan and Jaehyun and Danielle, and he was constantly surrounded by other guys you didn’t really care about (all except for a certain someone, of course, but that’s later on into the future). The house parties happened less and less, the little kids grew up and eventually left the two of you alone, and it was only until he found out about your little crush on Seunghan did you and Anton finally start bringing back the friendship that was slowly becoming forgotten. 
Anton is… a good kid, which is why everyone is always drawn to him. He’s always had a heart as big as his head, so perhaps the reason why you’re this nervous about meeting with him after what seemed like days since your fight is because you don’t want to lose him again. Drifting apart is natural, friends fight—you know all that, but at the very least you did not want to end it on bad terms. You don’t want your last memories of your childhood best friend being bitter, which is why you must absolutely not mess this one chance up. 
“…Did you ever, like, have a crush on him?” Seunghan inquires slowly, tapping his pen against his chin languidly as he sits on the floor beside your bed. 
You give him a small, questioning glare. “Why do you ask?” you start, suspicious. “Because you think girls and boys simply can’t be friends?” 
Seunghan shrugs. “Yeah?” 
“Wait, really? You really think that?” your shoulders slumped.
“I mean,” Seunghan says, leaning back on your bed. “Anton’s pretty handsome, surely you’ve had a crush on him when you were younger, right?” 
You consider it. “Hmm… well, I guess I did.” 
“Really?” Seunghan seems more shocked rather than appalled. You hoped that was a good thing.
“In seventh grade, I think,” you clarify, “that was when he started getting…cute, I guess, and he was also getting more involved in swimming. Everyone started finding him attractive too, so it wasn’t just me. It was like being attracted to him was the new trend, or something.” 
“What happened after that?” 
“Well, he got a girlfriend around that time, so I quickly lost all the interest I had in him. I think I was super in-denial about it, too, so it’s not like anything would have happened between us because I didn’t want it happening at all,” you blandly respond. “Anyway, whenever I think about dating Anton, I just keep remembering about how he’d always cling and cry to his mom for hours when something didn't go his way back when we were little. So, major turn-off.” 
Seunghan laughs loudly, and you watch him fondly as he tries to regain his senses. “Seriously?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. 
“Seriously.” 
Seunghan looks at you thoughtfully. “So you lost interest in him because he got a girlfriend, but why wasn’t it the same when it came to me?” 
You pause, blinking slowly at him as shock invades your expression. Seunghan merely stares right back at you, an easygoing smile on his face while he waits for your response. 
“I…” your words lose you, and you desperately try to grab at them. But Seunghan is patient, he waits for you to gather them, leaning his cheek against the cap of his knee while he sits beside you on the floor of your room. “I don’t… know?” 
His smile widens. “You don’t know?” 
You feel your face flush. “Well, I mean,” you start off bashfully, looking away from his prying gaze. “This and that are different… I knew Anton way before I started crushing on him, but I barely knew you. Plus, I realized I just saw him as a brother, but you… we weren’t even friends in the first place…” 
Your face is probably as hot as a whistling kettle after you finished talking, and Seunghan’s amused smile isn’t helping your situation in the slightest. 
“Don’t start teasing me,” you grumble, and Seunghan just laughs again, moving closer to pinch your cheek. 
“But you’re so cute,” Seunghan coos, inching closer while you attempt to push his invasive hands away from your face. “You’re my cute girl, the cutest ever, I just wanna—” 
A loud knock interrupts him, and you jump at the sound. 
“Anton,” you gasp, staring back at Seunghan with wide eyes. 
His silence enables you to aggressively push him away from you, and he gently stumbles back into the opposite way as you scramble to get onto your feet. He gives you an offended look, and you look back at him with an apologetic expression only to be met with a playful roll of his eyes. You hype yourself up as you make your way to the door, before opening it without further ado. 
Anton blinks down at you. “Oh, hey,” he casually says. 
“Hey!” you respond, suspiciously a little out of breath. 
Anton glances at Seunghan who’s keeping himself busy with his laptop by the back, looks at your flushed face, before making a disgusted expression. “Ew, don’t tell me you two were making out just now…” 
Seunghan freezes, the tips of his ears turning red while your jaw almost hits the floor. 
You instinctively hit Anton’s arm. “No, we weren’t, idiot!” 
He yelps, nursing his arm. “Ow! You didn’t have to hit me, jeez… I came here in peace, and this is how you treat me?” 
You cringe. “Sorry…”
Anton quickly digresses. He meets your hesitant gaze, quietly asking, “Can we talk outside?” 
“Oh, uh, sure,” you blinked. There it was—the Anton you knew when you were kids, always so shy despite being in the company of his friends. But the situation is a little more than just that, so you understand where he was coming from. “In the hallway?” 
“Yeah, it won’t be quick,” Anton confirms as you step out of the room, taking one last longing look at Seunghan, who merely sends you back a reassuring smile as if he was saying ‘goodluck!’ to the both of you. (You refrained from eating your fist at how cute he looked.)
Out in the hall, the air turns into suffocating awkwardness you never thought you’d have with Anton Lee. You don’t remember being this… tense around his presence, as if you’re walking around eggshells around him no matter how nonchalant the two of you tried to act. You try to recall the last time you felt this awkward around him, but you can only come up with the brief moment in middle school when you harbored a crush on him that hadn’t even lasted a week. You had felt awkward around him because viewing Anton in a romantic light never really seemed that appealing, but that feeling had immediately washed away when you realized all you ever wanted out of him was his friendship and nothing else. 
Of course, you can’t say the same about Anton. It’s not as if you can read his mind despite knowing him for so long now, but now you wonder if he’s experienced the same feelings you once did. And, in some part of you, you wonder if he harbors any romantic feelings for you right now—even if the rest of your friends tried to hide it, you weren’t oblivious to Jaehyun’s knowing glances whenever you and Anton were in the same room. 
You just didn’t want to acknowledge such things ever again, not when your friendship with him has been sailing pretty well these past few years already. 
Well, until now, that is.
“So…” you trail off, looking at his shoulder instead of his face. 
“I’m sorry,” Anton immediately says, voice quieter than ever. 
Oh. 
“I shouldn’t have acted so weird after promising I’d set you up with Seunghan,” he continues, scratching his nape. “I never meant to insinuate that your feelings for him were shallow. I know how much you like him, but I ended up projecting my doubts into you and ruining our friendship in the process anyway. I honestly really, really wanted you guys to get together because I know that’s what makes you happy, and it’s also what makes Seunghan happy, so—” 
“I forgive you, Anton,” you interrupt, before looking down at the floor. “And I’m also sorry; I shouldn’t have cornered you like that in the groupchat. I just… I just hated the thought of you disapproving of my relationship with him, even though you were only worried about us. And I don’t blame you for being suspicious of me, too, because I was honestly starting to falter during the first stages of becoming close with Seunghan, but I ended up really liking him anyway. And I’m glad you helped us get closer, really; I just wish we went about our concerns differently and honestly.”
“Yeah,” Anton agrees, smiling lightly, “but it’s okay now. You got your man, and I did my job. We’re all good. Right?” 
“Yeah,” you repeat. “Life is good.”
“Eh, well, not… really? I have a composition assignment due in forty-eight hours and I haven’t gotten a single note in,” Anton says dryly. “I need to lock in right now.” 
You push him, and he looks back at you in offense. You smiled, saying, “Lock in with us, then. We were just doing homework, for your information.” 
Anton grumbles. “Yeah, right… I’d still third-wheel anyway.” 
“Don’t be a big baby, ‘ton,” you roll your eyes. “We’re not gonna kiss in front of you.” 
“Please don’t put that image in my mind. I’ll vomit right in this hall.” 
“And I’ll make you clean it up, then I’m gonna tell your mommy how good of a job you did.” 
“Kay why ess.” 
You pause, looking at him thoughtfully. Anton slowly looks back at you, and you send him a small smile. 
“...Thanks for looking out for us,” you say, quietly, “you’re a—...you’re a good best friend.”
“Naturally,” Anton snorts, and you give him a blank look. He quickly feigns a cough, saying, “You’re my best friend, too. Of course I’ll look out for you.” 
It feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. 
“...Can you believe that I had a crush on you during seventh grade?” you joke, intending to lighten the mood. 
“Yeah?” Anton raises a brow at you, surprisingly unfazed. 
You blink. 
“Wait, seriously?” 
“Yeah, I knew you liked me at that time,” Anton casually replies. “But then you started liking Intak from choir. By the way, he also knew you liked him—he told me at our last concert.” 
“What?! How?!” 
“...You’re not that slick, you do know that, right? The only reason Seunghan never knew was because you barely talked to him.” Anton explained dryly, sending you a disapproving look. “You were too—admirer-like. It gets sad to look at sometimes. Those four years could’ve been shortened to, like—I don’t know, three months? If you just freakin’ talked to him or something.”
Your eyes narrow. Anton raises his arms up in defense. 
“But all’s well that ends well, right?” he quickly says, voice laced with a tinge of panic. “Let’s not drag this scene out now…” 
You sigh in response, but oblige nonetheless. “You’re right. All’s well that ends well.” 
You smile at Anton again, feeling content. You hope he shares the sentiment. 
Just in time, Seunghan pops his head out from your door, looking both ways before finding the two of you crowding to the right. The creaking sound the door made as it opened forces yours and Anton’s attention towards the interruption, only to find a sheepish Seunghan stare right back at you. 
“You guys have been out here for a while—just checking,” he says, ruffling his already messy black hair. “My bad.” 
Although he tries to play it off with an air of nonchalance, you think you sense a hint of worry in his tone regardless. The thought makes you both uneasy and excited at the same time, which shouldn't even make sense but it just does.
Because Seunghan’s your boyfriend. And sometimes boyfriends get jealous when their girlfriend’s are alone with another guy. God, you shouldn’t be liking that sentence as much as you actually do. 
“It’s all good, man,” Anton assures, waving a hand placatingly. Awkward again, but that’s none of your concern anymore—that’s just how Anton is anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, flickering his gaze between the two of you. “Um, so… I think I’ll go now. See you guys later.”
“What?” Seunghan exclaims, a little too dejected. “So soon? You should stay and study with us. I know you still have that composition assignment to work on, and if you go back to your dorm now I know Sungchan’s just going to distract you.” 
Anton winces. “Erm… I think I’d rather have that than third whe—” 
You interrupt him. “He’s right! We’re better company than Sungchan anyway. Stay. Let’s get some food or something. And pull an all-nighter or whatever.” 
Seunghan nods excitedly. Anton looks at the both of you incredulously. 
“What the heck? You guys haven’t even been dating for a month, yet you’re already so in-sync of being annoying,” he says. “You’re quite literally making me pick between two evils right now.” 
“So you’re staying?” Seunghan asks, grinning widely. You share the same, hopeful expression. “The lesser evil is definitely us, right?”
“...I’m not so sure about that.”
“Pleaaaaase, Anton, we promise we’ll be good, supportive study-buddies!” Seunghan needlessly insists. And you should be a little irked that your boyfriend’s begging another man to hang out with you two, but you surprisingly aren’t. One more company didn’t hurt, after all. 
So Anton can’t even believe what he’s about to say next:
“Fine, but Y/N’s paying for food!” 
You and Seunghan immediately cheer. 
“Wait, what?” you ask dumbly. 
But you eventually relent as the other two start making their way down the hall, an echo of a nonsensical conversation picking up. At least it didn’t take that much of a resistance from Anton to agree to yours and Seunghan’s invitation, and sure, it would’ve been nicer to just hang out with your boyfriend, but you also didn’t mind having your best friend tagging along as well. He was, after all, most of the reason why the two of you got together in the first place, so you more or less owed it to him. Plus, a hang out will slowly dissolve that suffocating awkwardness that has been circling between the two of you these past few weeks despite having already made up just minutes ago anyway, so really—all’s well that ends well. 
When you finally catch up to them, Seunghan is the first one to speak up. 
“So, Anton, was there ever a time you liked Y/N?” 
The two of you practically choke on air. 
“Excuse me,” you say. 
Anton’s response is quieter. “You heard us…?” 
Seunghan laughs. “Sorry, I got curious…” he says although he doesn’t sound all that remorseful. “Did you, though?” 
“How can you just ask that?” Anton squeaks out. 
“No, wait, I’m curious too!” you exclaim. “I can’t just be the one who had feelings for you at some point—you know how embarrassing that is?!” 
Seunghan nods along. “Yeah! So embarrassing!” 
“You guys are crazy, you’re literally her boyfriend!” Anton cries out, before slowly turning away. “...And yes, I did like her back at some point.” 
You almost trip on nothing. “What?”
Anton awkwardly avoids your gaze. 
Seunghan hollers, and you send him a pointed look. He quiets down.
You look concerningly horrified when you ask Anton. “Wait… you’re for real? When? Why? How?”
“In seventh grade,” he replies meekly. “It just happened, I guess.” 
You and Seunghan almost go into shock. 
“Holy shit,” he whispers, staring at Anton with wide eyes. “You guys could’ve been—oh, my God. Wow.” 
“Wait, so if you knew I liked you, then why didn’t you…?” you trail off, confused. 
Anton rolls his eyes indignantly. “By the time I did have feelings for you, you were already over it. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know—fight for her?” Seunghan suggests. “Such a wasted opportunity…”
“Dude,” Anton says dryly. “If I did that, you guys wouldn’t be dating right now!”
“Oh, right.” 
You snort. “I guess it just means we aren’t meant for each other, huh?” you joke.
Seunghan almost looks sad. “Well, when you put it like that… I guess it really was a ‘right person, wrong time’ kind of situation, huh?” 
“Yeah,” Anton says. “I like this outcome better, though. I like you guys together.” 
You look at him pitifully. “Anton, you don’t have to be sad…” 
“I’m not sad.” 
“We’ll find you a partner soon… for all the help you’ve given us… I mean, they probably won’t be as cool and awesome as me, but at least you won’t be lonely anymore…” 
“No thanks. Can we just go get food now?” 
“No, really, Seunghan and I are always here for you. You helped us, so now it’s our turn to help you—what do you think of Wonyoung? She’s pre-med.” 
“Oh! I know someone who’s friends with her, what do you think? I think you guys would be a good match.” 
“Go to hell, the two of you.”
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SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.
AUTHOR'S NOTE. hi guys sorry for the longassshhh wait omg. i cant believe it took me this long to finish the reconciliation chapter but ykw... we're here now and that's all that matters. i will never leave u guys hanging ✊anyways this baby is ending in 1 chapter tehee see u next time.
TAGLIST. @shoberi @miyawwn @starwonb1n @yujinxue @revehosh @alwayswook @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t @siuewnb @cake1box @dearmarklee @kyusqult @snowyseungs @ffixtionista @odxrilove @hisrkive @saeist @lilysflower1 @onlyhyunjin @eternallyhyucks @syzavxy @calumsfringe @yipyipmorals @user7520 @tojis-luver @ilymarkchan @fae-renjun @otblous @injunnie-lemon @jjk-97 @leeis @brachioswrld @i1uvc4ke @soheendo
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cloveroctobers · 4 months ago
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FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL — Armando Aretas.
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A/N: because it’s back to school season and I thought this would be a cute idea for you mothers out there 💛😊
WARNINGS: language, mentions of a medical condition & feels!
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“Are you ready for school, baby luv?” You question your four year old that’s seated in their car seat behind you.
“Yes mommy!” The usual hoarse tone from your daughter is heard with tiny Alisha responding; she’s practically itching to get out of the seat behind you.
She was awake before you came to wake her for the big day, sitting up patiently in her montessori bed waiting on you this time around. This was a giveaway that she’s been excited since the girl loved her sleep but Armando’s been persuasive on telling her that she’s going to have the best time learning.
Alisha was already bright on her own so you had no doubt that she’ll pick up on new material quick.
“Ready to be on your best behavior and make lots of friends?” You question as you feel your stomach cramp with nerves the closer you got to Alisha’s preschool.
Armando cuts in as he stops at the stop sign, peeking at the beaded haired girl in the rear view, “and remember what daddy told you if anyone tries to be mean to you?”
“Um? Five fingers to…their tummy!”
You cut your eyes at your man, who meets your stare with a side eye. He shrugs at your look as he says, “what? Ain’t nobody tryin’ my girl if I got something to say about it.”
You scoff, “you know how hard it was to get her into this school, don’t go corrupting her like that.”
“I’m not.” He makes a right at the stop sign, “she has to protect herself.”
“Then she needs to talk to a teacher.”
“Majority of them have been clocked out for the longest.” Armando states, “Sure they may look all prim and proper with sun rays shooting out of their heads—and I’m not manifesting like you love to say but if I ever get a call that they neglected Lishy? I’m on everybody’s ass.”
You exhale, “you know I’m right there with you but…don’t encourage her on the first day!”
Armando snorts before speaking back to Alisha, “…Make lots of friends so that nobody messes with you and if you need backup, they’ll jump in for you until mommy and daddy get there, alright?”
Throwing your hands up in the air with laughter bubbling in your throat you say, “it’s like I say one thing and it goes out the other ear.”
Sooner than later, you’re pulling up to the school which is filled with more cars than the damn freeway.
“Welp!” You quip, looking away from the passenger window, “The parking is horrendous, I guess we got to go home now.”
Armando’s circled the parking lot twice now until a security guard waved you over to the other side where there were a few parking spots that opened up.
“Stop it.” Armando scolds, “she’ll be fine. Alisha’s got my blood in her.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” you mutter while Armando mockingly smiles at you, “…I know Alisha will be great. She’s a joy to be around but I don’t want to leave her by herself.”
“Babe, we talked about this.” Armando sighs, “she won’t be by herself, with a personality like that? People will be clinging to our little Einstein. Plus, it’s only four hours for three days this week and then we’ll see her again.”
“Four hours too long!” You whined, “Next thing you know she’s gonna be moving to Belize with some random raggedy ass boy—or person—we’re inclusive over here—and I won’t get to see that precious face on a daily.”
“…why Belize?” Armando frowns.
“I don’t know! Its somewhere far from us.”
Armando shuts the engine off and looks at you, feeling the anxiety just radiating off you, “…look at it this way, we still got FatMa with us and we got four more to go.”
You peel your eyes open at the mention of your chunky eight month old who was napping in their car seat behind Armando, snoring away due to getting over a cold. You had two kids down and Armando wanted six but you were once open to four. FatMa—Belona’s birth was a tough one after you suffered from cervical edema so you were more than willing to wait for a while for any more little ones. Look at you now? Sending your first baby off and you knew you were about to be a whole mess but you always had Armando to lean on.
“Yeah…we’ll see about that.” You state before leaning your head back against the headrest, “Lish! You ready to go, because mommy’s not?”
“It’s okay, mommy. Take time.”
Your head snapped to Armando’s at her sweet words, lips pushing out into a pout as you felt your eyes burn. Armando shakes his head at you, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt.
“Uh, uh.”
Before hoping right out.
You sniff and take a deep breath then exhaled before pulling the mirror down to pat any rising tears back and then you also climbed out of the family car. As usual you were tasked with Alisha while Armando tended to Belona’s stroller set up.
Alisha held onto your hand, twisting around as she kept peeking at all the kids up ahead behind led into the school. She looks up at you, “Mommy, friends?”
Smiling softly at her you nod, “Yes baby, let’s of them. Who’s number one though?”
“Um…you!”
“That’s right, mama’s girl!” You scrunched your nose up at her with a smile, which she repeated as you leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth.
When you pulled back, you met Armando’s eyes as he watched the cute moment between you two. He leaned against the stroller handle and shot you a small smile himself before nudging his head, “ready?”
“Yes!” Alisha bounced on her toes.
You tightened your hold on Alisha’s little hand but still moved forward to follow Armando’s lead, ‘no,’ you thought to yourself as you walked beside him.
The line moved quickly that led to what would be Alisha’s classroom. It was all a blur honestly, the two teachers were nice enough and encouraging and honestly Armando probably did most of the talking, shockingly. The head teacher, Mrs. Miller gave Alisha a colorful glittery sticker with her name on it that happened to be her favorite color, yellow and her eyes lit up.
“Daddy look!”
Armando nods, “I see mija! You look even prettier now.”
“Thanks, daddy!”
Ms. Joan, the assistant teacher smiled, “want to say bye to your family and meet some friends?”
Alisha turns to run to Armando’s legs but your hold on her hand made her stare up curiously at the resistance.
Armando along with the teachers notice this and he gives them a knowing look, you missed him whispering to them that you were more than nervous about Alisha’s big day but this was nothing new for the teachers. They tried to be reassuring but your unusual quietness was a big contrast to your chatty ways when you first met back when you toured the school a few months ago.
“I think mama needs some big love before you go, can you do that?” Armando asks Alisha who tugs on your hand, making you zone back into what was actually going on.
She raises her free hand up to you, “Mommy, hug?”
A watery smile splits onto your face as you instantly bend down to pick her up and crush her to your form. You cradle her head and slowly sway her from side to side. “I love you and I want you to have a good day, okay?”
“Kay! Luv you too.”
The sniffles were a huge battle as you held on even tighter. The teachers quietly watched on in adoration, letting you have this moment that they’ve seen plenty of times before. Armando then taps your arm, reaching for Alisha himself.
“She’s mine.” You mutter while Armando turns his eyes into slits at your dramatics.
Armando then raises his brows with a blink as he pushes out his lips, “oh I guess you made her by yourself too then, huh?”
Which earns some laughter from other parents waiting and watching but you didn’t care. You gave Alisha another squeeze before pulling back to meet the eyes she shared with her father. You squished her cheeks with a groan before handing her off to Armando who still had his arms out.
Armando lifts Alisha up into the air with a low smile before lowering her so they’re eye level, “love you my little smarty pants, be good.” He says as he pecks her forehead and then each cheek before placing her down on her two feet.
“Bye mommy, bye daddy!”
“See you later!” Armando corrects as he watches Alisha take the assistant’s hand who leads her into the classroom.
Mrs. Miller turns to stand beside the stroller on the left of Armando and watches along with you two as Ms. Joan places Alisha in between two other kids, a girl and a boy. Before the teacher can even introduce them, Alisha is tapping both to tell them her name.
“Oh she’ll be just fine!” The head teacher informs you two, “I can see it now, she’ll be okay. Now go relax for a few hours.”
“You’ll call if anything goes wrong?” You manage to say between shaky breaths.
Mrs. Miller rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, “always but nothing will.”
Armando points, “I like you already, teach.”
She grins at Armando before playfully shooing you two off. Armando spins the stroller along and the more faces you see as you take your exit you’re tempted to run back into the classroom yourself. Armando can sense it so he snakes one firm hand across your waist, leading you and a snoring Belona back outside.
It’s once you make it to the car that you start bawling and dry heaving.
“Hey whoa, are you serious?” Armando asks turning away from the open back door.
You fold your hands above your head, trying to focus on your breathing but you still manage to get some words out, “I just—s-shes so big.”
“She’s four.” Armando blinks, “not forty.”
“She’s our first baby, Arman!”
Armando keeps his cool as usual, “I’m well aware.”
“I can’t take it! Then she’ll be off to p-p-prom and marriage—
Armando scowls, “i dunno about all that mami—
“So you think she’ll be living with us for forever and single?”
He can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or serious.
Armando clenched his eyes shut, “I’m not even thinking that far ahead. You need to relax, it’s just school, we’re not sending her off to her future just yet.”
You grip his shirt, making him slightly widen his low-lidded eyes for a moment, “but t-that’s what it feels like!” You bury your head in his chest and Armando hesitates, not expecting you to do this much but eventually rubs at your back as warm tears glide down your face.
Armando holds onto you quietly as you let it all out. You were right in a sense when you laid down next to each other last night, admitting that there was a 70% chance that were probably going to lose your shit over Alisha’s first day and that you were.
Gurgling is heard around your sniffles and that instantly makes you pull back. You rush over to see Belona awake underneath a crochet blanket, eyes wide and giving you a sharp look, like she commonly does at your dramatics. Laughing through your tears, you work to pull her out of the stroller and bounce her right to your frame.
“Good morning, fatma! Are you going to be the one that promises to never leave me?” You coo against her temple while Armando just shakes his head at you, moving to lower the stroller and put it back into the trunk.
When he slightly turns to the security guard who motions that there’s a car waiting for that spot, Armando tells him just another minute with his finger. He circles back to the side of the car, hand touching your waist as you’re on mode: baby talk to Belona who’s always unimpressed by your antics.
“Babe, we can’t stay out here all day.” Armando starts.
You cut your eyes at him, “who says?”
“I say.” Armando affirms, “you heard what Mrs. Miller said…use this time to relax and clearly that’s not what you’re doing.” He eyes your tear stained face, “Let’s go do some retail therapy and hit the spot to get those empanadas you love so much.”
‘And Birria Tacos for Alisha of course!’ You think.
That made you raise your brows as Armando opened the back door a little wider so that you can strap Belona into the car seat, “not you offering to take me shopping? You hear that fatmama’s? We’re getting spoiled today!”
That earns a grin from Belona which makes you laugh as you pinch her chin.
“Y’all are spoiled everyday,” Armando announces after you triple check to make sure your youngest is secured, “I just don’t need you crying up a storm anymore today like the big ass baby that you are.”
You huff as you step back so Armando can shut the door behind Belona. You get into his face as you poke his chest, “everybody can’t be the cool dad, I’ve got emotions and your petty ass does too.”
The both of you climb into the car and you work connecting Armando’s phone to the car in search of some music and stare at him while he’s backing out of the space while the angelic voice of Mariah Carey’s, “Emotions,” starts to play through the car.
Armando pauses even after he shifts gears.
“Were you not in your feelings last week when I was on my period and didn’t want you hugging up on me? So you decided to have a whole performance belting your heart out to love songs while working out because you missed me so bad?” You tilted your head to the side, waiting for some answers.
He scoffs, “not my fault that I got some love to give and you’re one of the only ones I want to give it to.” Before sending a wave to the guard as he pulled off from the school.
You humph in satisfaction just as a FaceTime call rings in. “It’s papa Mike.”
“Let it ring, I’m not done with you yet.”
Sucking your teeth, you wipe underneath your eyes before answering the call anyway, leaving Armando to rub at his jaw in annoyance.
“G-pop! What’s going on?” You grin into the camera as you place the phone back into the holder.
Mike lifts his shades from his eyes as he says, “nothing, just calling to check in on y’all. Thanks for the pics by the way, Lish looked adorable!”
You nod, “yeah, she walked in like the big ball of energy that she is. Me on the other hand? Not good.”
“Awl no! Don’t tell me you let the water works loose!”
Armando speaks up, “I thought I was about to get my ass whooped in the parking lot for a second.”
“No!” Mike laughs, “Marcus did say you just had to let her have her moment.”
“I did!” Armando scoffs, “Then she tried to make it seem like I was going to gatekeep Alisha from ever getting married.”
“Hol up…Whatchu mean marriage?” Mike frowns into the camera while you roll your eyes.
“You two are losers! Alisha deserves to have that in her life—if thats what she so desires.”
Mike scratches at his ear, jaw a little tense, “she’s four, not forty.”
Armando was truly Mike’s son!
You side eye Armando who also gives you a look to prove his point.
“And she can get married as young as twenty-four—
Armando quickly interrupts, “hell no.”
“Nope, don’t want to hear none of that.” Mike holds his hand up, “…did Lish give belly some love too?”
You laugh at the mention of the two siblings, “fatma slept through the whole drop off—
“You were hogging Alisha anyway.” Armando adds.
Ignoring him you continue, “and you know how Alisha is with germs. She’s been telling Arman and I that she doesn’t want Bel to ruin her first day with her jeebies.”
Mike gives that rich dad laugh that’s deep in his chest, “yeah, that sounds like her! But everything else was straight, right?”
“Mhm.” Armando responds, fingers tapping against the steering wheel to the beat.
Leaning onto the console you nod your head, “yup! And we got two more days to do this.”
“Hopefully you won’t have any more tears left to cry by next week.”
Offense was on your face now as you grasped your chest, “Wooooow!”
Mike laughs, “alright y’all be good and Chrissy and I will be waiting on the call from Lisha about her first day.”
“You got it G-pop!” You salute while Mike gets closer to the screen, “and Mando.”
He leans over to glance down at the phone, waiting for whatever else his bio dad had to say.
“I see you’re playing your favorite song…don’t ever try to hit that note again, you’re an alto man.” Mike tells Armando who frowns before he sends the younger man a peace sign, ending the call which makes you snicker.
Armando exhales as he pauses the song, “tell me something mami…did you go behind my back and send my—Mike something?”
Particularly him full out jamming to the ending of this current song. You liked sneaking up on him when he was either in the at home office or gym, usually you strayed away from the gym before he tried to drag you into the room and turned into a drill sergeant but you were the one who said you wanted to tone up the baby weight after Bel. Everybody works at their own pace but that only applied when it came to Armando’s relationship with Mike, apparently. Yet you did sneak up on him after feeling bad shoving his arms off of you, bringing him a snack but ended up finding another snack and entertainment in the gym that evening.
“Not just Mike.” You mutter, pulling your knees to your chest.
Armando slowly closed his eyes before opening them right back, cause he was driving you know?
“Who?” He rasped out.
“Just the group chat with the family.” You shrugged, “and they were happy to know that you do have some rhythm…not vocals but rhythm.”
Which probably included Reggie too but just like Armando, he barely said much even in text but he was family and you loved him too.
Armando decides to let it go with an exhale of his own, “well I sent a pic myself to the work chat of you not too long ago so…fuck it, guess we both ain’t shit.”
“Arman!” You yelled, not liking that very much now that it was on the other foot.
You wanted to seem cool to AMMO and not this sensitive mess but truth to be told you did not like the sound or weight of guns so you left that to the team. The rest of the stuff? Like the tech was more of your interest but you respected their work although it spun your insides every time Armando left for work.
He’s smirking at you now while you’re gasping, hands ready to swat at him, “ah! I’m driving and Bel’s with us, we dont need your violence at this time.”
“You know what? I’m calling Mike back—no matter of fact I’m calling uncle Hondo.”
Armando shrugs his shoulders, “am I supposed to be scared? I handle snitches like you for breakfast.”
“I’ll tell Alisha you weren’t being very nice to her mommy and we both know she’s a mama’s girl.” You mock over the console while you halted scrolling through your contacts.
Armando straightened up a bit at that, “…you started it. Nobody told you to fucken record me, like that’s not an invasion of my privacy.” He grumbles.
“Oh boo-hoo you like Mariah Carey and I love my daughter, so what! Nobody is going to send us to jail for that.” You sassed.
Armando nods, “…you wouldn’t do well in there no way.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re too soft.” Armando snorts, “you cried over inside out.”
Here we go again with the disrespect!
“That’s exactly why you got disgust on that tiktok effect.” You pointed, “Very fitting.”
“…least she’s hot, which I am too so that tracks.” He’s smirks at you and you really just want to choke him.
Fanning your hand at the bronzed skinned man you lean away from him while you say, “Sometimes I can’t stand you and today is one of those days, take me back to my baby, I’m clocking out.”
Armando laughs, “you’re the one who chose to marry me babe, so you’re never getting rid of me. Like you vowed, foreva eva? Your word today is: relax. So…” he skips to the next shuffled song and smirks since it’s so fitting as it’s Outkast playing now.
“Wooo! I’m sorry Ms. Jackson, oooh! I am for real, neva meant to make your daughter cry, I apologized a trillion times.” He sings, reaching a finger over to poke your cheek which you try to latch onto his wrist to bite his finger.
Soon you’re wiping the annoyance off your face because a hit was playing and you couldn’t hold out any longer. Plus it got your mind off worrying about your little one for now and as Armando interlaced your fingers together, bringing your hand to brush his lips against your skin while you started to rap, you felt like everything was going to be alright for you and your little family.
And Armando was secretly counting down the hours to see his little girl again, he’d never tell you he got choked up looking into Alisha’s eyes before kissing her forehead but he had a role to play and that was always the calm one.
As for the whole marriage thing?
Ask him in thirty-six years!
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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago
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Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty six : crucifixion
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 12.7k
summary : judgement day.
warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.
a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.
i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!
“My room is too big.” 
He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.
“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world. 
Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence. 
“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.” 
“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it. 
“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face. 
“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.” 
“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile. 
“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.         
“What were you like, as a child?”
“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more. 
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.
“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly. 
“I would sew.” 
“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.
“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces. 
“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care. 
“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.” 
“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”
“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you. 
“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored. 
“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”
“Do you still know how?”
“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking. 
“What were their names? Your parents?”
“Clara and Arin Djarin.”  
“Those are pretty names.”
“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”
“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him. 
“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest. 
“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”
“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you. 
“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”
“You think?”
“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.” 
“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.
“I think it’s more than that.”
“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. 
“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave. 
Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today. 
“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.
“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.
“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.
“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.” 
“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future. 
“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”
“The cabin’s a bit small for us.” 
“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.” 
“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again. 
“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.
“Little Djarin’s?”
“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.” 
“You’d want him to live with us?”
“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this. 
“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question. 
“Kids?”
“How many would you want?”
“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk. 
“Maybe five? Or six.”
“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs. 
“Or five.”
“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. 
“How about three?” Three is manageable. 
“Counting Grogu?” 
“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that. 
“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.” 
“I don’t mind.”
“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.
“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible. 
You could always make parts of it real.
Someday. 
“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”
“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father. 
“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.” 
“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’” 
“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious. 
“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that. 
“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?” 
“We’ll manage.”
“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would. 
“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss. 
“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father. 
“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”
“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.” 
“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks. 
“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist. 
“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”
“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh. 
“It was a silent mutual agreement.”
“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle. 
“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.
“Oh?”
“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that. 
“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”
“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks. 
“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?” 
“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile. 
“Let’s start with one and go from there.”
“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours. 
“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. 
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.” 
“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”
“Like… actually leaving Naboo?” 
“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze. 
“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen? 
You never talked about that night after that. 
When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises. 
It was just talk.
Lysa came to get you from the dining room. 
After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again. 
You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.
“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried. 
“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…” 
Kriff.
You never talked about that night after that. 
Maybe you should have. 
You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation. 
You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless. 
“I’d like to go to bed.” 
“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door. 
“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could. 
“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that. 
Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret. 
“Goodnight, Lysa.” 
“Goodnight, princess.” 
You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet. 
It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you. 
You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.
Just you, hopefully. 
You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo. 
You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute. 
Where is he?
Is he okay?
What the fuck can I do about it?
Mostly that. 
The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after. 
But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?
“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”
How morbid. 
Not that you’re above being morbid. 
You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family. 
The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded. 
It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious. 
It makes you want to poison his wine. 
But you don’t have poison. 
And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now. 
That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian. 
“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.” 
It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him. 
“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.” 
You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now. 
“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child. 
“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it. 
You don’t ask for any follow up. 
You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself. 
You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to. 
So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers. 
Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright. 
You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open. 
Lysa?
“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall. 
“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?” 
“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”
“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.” 
“Do you want to see him or not?” 
Din.
You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently. 
It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness. 
“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.
“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her. 
The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.
Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore. 
The wailing. 
Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.
“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands. 
“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days. 
“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”
Oh. 
“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you. 
“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell. 
Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing. 
She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face. 
“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.  
Both eyes. 
“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” 
Oh gods. 
You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room. 
It isn’t like Elaine’s cell. 
There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him. 
Maker. 
What have they done to your Din? 
You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this. 
Armorless. 
They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner. 
They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.  
Did they see his face?
You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.
“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue. 
He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him. 
He assumes you're here to harm him. 
You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly. 
“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears. 
“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face. 
“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay? 
Technically no. 
But far better than he’s doing. 
“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs. 
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”
“How’d you get down here?” 
“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.” 
“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed. 
“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.
“I- I don’t want you to look.” 
You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look. 
“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.
You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently. 
You shouldn’t have waited so long to look. 
You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him. 
You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.
And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait. 
Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup? 
No. 
It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation. 
You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time. 
“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.
“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all. 
“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.” 
“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his. 
“What else can I do for you?” 
“Nothing. Being here is enough.” 
If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair. 
“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process. 
“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here? 
“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.” 
“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain. 
“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 
“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”
“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried. 
“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”
When they separate his head from his body. 
“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him. 
The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him. 
“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears. 
What do you say now?
What do you say to a man condemned to death? 
“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic. 
“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest. 
“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well. 
“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”
“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.” 
“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm. 
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso. 
“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter. 
Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time. 
Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.
The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more. 
“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours. 
“I’ll always be yours.” 
That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons. 
It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning. 
You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.
There is no plotting or scheming to free Din. 
Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet. 
He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. 
After all, you're just a doll. 
You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his. 
And time blends. 
You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting. 
So you wake. 
And you sleep. 
And you walk. 
Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant. 
You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night. 
“Please, just a few minutes-“
“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”
Din won’t live to see next month. 
“Is he eating?”
“He won’t let me-“
“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.” 
She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.
“I’ll make sure he eats.”
“Thank you.”
That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa. 
She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry. 
You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now. 
You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room. 
The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room. 
Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors. 
He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage. 
“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?” 
Your heart flutters at the thought.
They escaped.
Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.
“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.” 
God's you hope not.
Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.
“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate. 
So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.
They got out.
You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite. 
They look miserable. 
All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head. 
A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head. 
The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.
Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.
“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.  
“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup. 
“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself. 
“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents. 
The silver, shimmering contents. 
Din’s helmet. 
Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor. 
Empty. 
You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you. 
You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands. 
“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully. 
You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.              
Huh.
It takes a moment.
You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box. 
Bloody and pink, a tongue. 
Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue. 
No, no, no, no, no. 
You had loved his tongue before anything else.
He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.
You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.
Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand. 
“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish. 
No.
“Come on, where are your manners?”
Please. 
“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.
“What was that?” 
You clear your throat. 
“Thank you.” 
He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed. 
In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box. 
You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box. 
You have never been hateful. 
Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed. 
And the music starts. 
It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention. 
You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it. 
You move on to the next thing.
You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in  one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter. 
Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.  
And it isn’t enough.
Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.
There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob. 
Maybe you are a hateful person now. 
You feel as though you have every right to be at this point. 
You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.
Happy coronation day. 
You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.
A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.
You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep. 
You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.
Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him. 
“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you. 
He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.
“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat. 
“I thought he’d reward me.”
You laugh. A harsh dry sound 
“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.
“I thought he’d give me a lordship.” 
You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips. 
“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.” 
A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes. 
“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”
“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand. 
“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face. 
“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom. 
“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face. 
“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it. 
“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so. 
“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you. 
“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”
“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point? 
“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”
All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash. 
You barely look at them. 
You hate them. 
You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them. 
You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind. 
A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine. 
New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here. 
And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair. 
There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave. 
The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it. 
Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?
You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough. 
For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down. 
Someone left you a small vase of flowers. 
You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.
Daisies. 
After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle. 
Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first. 
You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.
Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out. 
A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.
Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse. 
You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.
In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned. 
His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you. 
He’s a mess. 
You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps. 
He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.
Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to. 
“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away. 
He didn’t want you to look.
You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue. 
You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 
“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear. 
Fuck it. 
You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.
A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror. 
This is it. 
Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street. 
And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.
You had expected more. More time.
A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it. 
But no. 
There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him. 
That moment never comes. 
You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom. 
Just like that, he’s gone. 
When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone. 
In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.
The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.
You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life. 
So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point. 
You scream. 
From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw. 
If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream. 
You shriek.
You howl. 
And you wail.
You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up. 
You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw. 
And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame. 
You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market. 
Your failsafe. 
With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it. 
Sarad’ika,
If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of. 
The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape. 
You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging. 
Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you. 
As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other. 
In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine. 
And lastly you will find your vibroblade. 
Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.
I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you. 
Be smart. 
You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness. 
So seek those things out. 
Be safe. Be happy.   
I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours. 
an ner kar'taylir darasuum, 
Din
All my love. 
You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.
Din, who was yours.
Din, who they took from you.
Who Kodo, took from you. 
And your grip on the knife tightens. 
Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now. 
They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was. 
When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things. 
It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone. 
All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be. 
New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door. 
Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful. 
You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about. 
Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you. 
If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address. 
One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you. 
Another vase of flowers.
You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up. 
A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room. 
Maybe it’s been three days since Din died. 
Maybe it’s been three months. 
You aren’t sure.
You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone. 
And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards. 
You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching. 
“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you. 
You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now. 
“Wife?”
“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin. 
“I knew you’d come around eventually.”
He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.
What a joke. 
You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.
“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion. 
You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.
“You- you knew?”
He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight. 
“How long?”
“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.
He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.
Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor. 
“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.
He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist. 
You look him up and down, one last time. 
Your loving husband. 
One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly. 
I’m sorry. 
Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do. 
You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks. 
Be smart. 
You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest. 
He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.
You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now. 
How dare he look surprised by any of this. 
After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse. 
So you remove the knife. 
And you stab him again.
And again,
and again,
and again,
and again,
and again.
Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion. 
He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.
You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria. 
But it never comes. 
It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. 
Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob. 
This was never going to bring him back. 
You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace. 
They won’t execute you. 
You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.
Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t. 
Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child. 
Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.
You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels. 
Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter? 
You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer. 
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”
“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo. 
A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore. 
“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks. 
“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at. 
New Leo. 
Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you. 
A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.
So you hug him. 
You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.
“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you. 
You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer. 
And it clicks. 
All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong. 
And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.
“Din?”
a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol
//
I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!
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nova-is-a-writer-now · 5 months ago
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Hidden Embers
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Series summary: You return to your home state the summer after graduating college. The relentless Texas heat, the suburban southern bubble and your treacherous relationship with your mom give you the feeling this will be a long summer. That's until Joel Miller enters the picture.
Summary: Your welcome-back party brings a re-encounter with one of your dad’s old friends, one you don’t remember looking so good.
A/N: Hello strangers, haven't seen you in a long long time. This is something that's been on the works for months now. Ideally, I wanted to put this series out when I had a good enough chunk of the story finished since I'm the most undecisive person ever. However, I wanna start posting some chapters on here as I go and then post the full completed thing on AO3. I will warn you though, it is very likely that as I write the story, I will keep on making some changes to previously posted chapters just so in the end it all makes sense and it's cohesive, I will let you guys know whenever there has been a major change. Take this as me asking the tumblr girlies to beta read this series before i publish it over on AO3. In any case, I hope the ones who decide to start reading here instead of waiting for the full thing enjoy it very much, I'm very open to suggestions, opinions and constructive critisism. :)
Warnings: Age-gap (Reader is 22, Joel is 46), Dbf!Joel, mommy issues
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It was your first summer back home after graduation. The relentless Texas heat was bringing memories from your childhood that had been buried away until now, some of them felt more like dreams at this point. You had never been too good with the heat, but spending four years in chilly, gloomy New England had certainly birthed a new appreciation for it.
You weren’t sure you wanted to come back and stay for the entire summer, but your southern-to-the-core mother has a knack for getting her way. Something about “You were away for four whole years, I’m sure you can spare us a couple months before you jump right into a job in god knows where. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up moving back and finding something around here, a nice guy to settle down with and finally get your life going.” 
God forbid. 
Naturally, in true southern fashion, your parents had to make your graduation celebration a neighborhood affair. A big barbeque, with all the nice people your parents grew up with, went to highschool and college with, who married and had kids with each other. People who haven’t, a day in their lives, given a single thought to what might exist outside of their perfect suburban bubbles. 
You weren’t trying to act ungrateful – it was a celebration of one of your most important milestones after all. People were coming together to congratulate you and your achievements. But if it were up to you, none of them would have been invited and you wouldn’t have celebrated it like this. Honestly, you missed the trips you used to take with your dad as a kid, all the way out in the countryside. Just the two of you for a week during the summer, staying in an old cabin that creaked and shook whenever your steps were too heavy. You don't remember why you stopped going, but you wished you still did. It would have been a much nicer celebration.
None of today’s guests knew you as anything other than your parent’s daughter, the shiny new thing your mother was choosing to show off. You knew that’s how it was gonna be the second your mother told you there was no point in attending your college’s graduation party, why would you when they could make you your own celebration back home with all the nice neighborhood people instead of a room full of strangers?
Your dad had good intentions, you knew that… deep, deep down. But it had always just been the three of you, and even when it was blatantly obvious your mother was in the wrong, even when there was no way of justifying her behavior, he still stood behind her, echoing her words. 
And that's how you ended up here, prepping food for your own graduation barbeque, decorating your own garden, cleaning up your own house so it would be squeaky clean for people you hadn’t seen in well over a decade. It’s what a “Do it for me, i’ll make it up to you I promise. The community is just really important to your mom” from your dad gets out of you. 
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You had probably been looking at yourself for a good twenty minutes now. Nothing you tried on felt quite right. It was either too formal, too casual, too revealing or too childish. This was a direct consequence of moving out of the south at the ripe age of 10; No one in Virginia taught you how to dress for a neighborhood barbeque. 
Last minute you land on a blue sundress, delicate white flowers scattered around, long enough to cover your knees but not enough to make you look like you just walked out of Sunday school. You took that as a win. 
At the sound of your mother loudly complaining about no one in the house ever helping (a comment undoubtedly directed at you), you decide to drag yourself downstairs. The sooner you get this party started, the sooner you could be done with it.
Rushing down the stairs, distractedly gathering your hair up with a tie, you unexpectedly bump into something – or rather someone.  
"Easy, there. Where's the fire?"
That familiar voice… same old Joel Miller. A few more grays overpowering the darkness of his hair, a couple more wrinkles here and there and a deeper tan painting his skin a more caramel-y shade. But it was still him. 
You knew very little about Joel, just that he was your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. The periodic phone calls they filled with hour-long football discussions, the christmas cards exchanged and birthday wishes texted. You remember him being around the house a lot before moving out of Texas, although the specifics of it escape your memory.
Now he’s standing right in front of you, firm hands holding you by your arms to make sure you won't lose your balance, and you’re faced with the fact that twenty-two-year-old you might be seeing Joel Miller through a different lens. 
Your brain isn’t really doing what it’s meant to do, which in this exact moment would be produce an acceptable response for the six-foot-something man with broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes and a musky, woody scent that made you wanna… No. Focus.
“I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there… I didn’t think anyone would arrive until five.” you finally reply to his expectant stare. 
“No need to be sorry.” He says back, letting go of your arms once he’s sure you’re able to stand on your own. “Well, welcome home. Haven’t seen you since you were running around in mermaid tees” 
Yeah, now seemed like the right time to look for a hole in the ground to crawl into. 
“Oh, that’s not fair, I grew out of my mermaid phase long before we moved.  I was well into boyband territory last time you saw me” you try to joke your way through the conversation, hoping the burning sensation crawling up to your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels. 
The embarrassment of the moment would have churned your insides for much longer if Joel's mouth hadn't quirked up in a charming smirk, so captivating it was hard to believe he wasn't aware of its effect. 
That on its own was already causing some conflicting feelings to boil up inside you, but then he had the nerve to let out a small chuckle he seemed to have been trying to hold back. He was chuckling... Texas’ resident grump was chuckling at your joke, which wasn't even that funny if we’re being fully earnest. Why did you like that thought so much?
You were about to say something, anything really, in a shameless attempt to see if you could earn one more of those, when your mother's approaching voice snapped you out of the haze.
“Are you gonna make me drag you in here, or will you do me the courtesy of helping out... Oh, goodness me! Joel! I didn’t hear you come in, you’re here early.” She switched gears faster than a professional racer. Suddenly, she was back to being the neighborhood’s sweetheart, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet drawl.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the intrusion,” Joel replies, slipping back into his usual, almost stiff demeanor. Whatever new side you had seen of him a second ago was quickly gone. “Hank asked me to drop by a bit earlier to bring him the grill. Said mine’s better suited for the amount of meat he’s buying.”
“Oh, how that man refuses to listen. I told him we didn’t need that much meat. I'm making a whole lotta side dishes,” she whines, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, I guess everyone will be taking leftovers home then. Hank went over to the store to grab me some stuff I was missing. He should be back in a heartbeat.” She glances back at you and, in that passive-aggressive tone that almost anybody else would miss, said, “Well, sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Go help Joel unload his grill and show him what a good host you are.” 
It was only your third day back home. Somehow, four years of freedom had made living in this household even more unbearable. 
Smile, turn around, walk away. Choose your peace, choose your peace, choose your peace.
Heavy footsteps echo yours all the way to the garage, where Joel's truck waited. You let him walk past you to unlock the tailgate. “Your mom hasn’t changed one bit, has she?” Joel says distractedly while grabbing some metal pieces that looked like parts of his grill. 
“Oh, if you only knew.” you say back, trying your best to conceal the sharpness of your tone. 
He hands you the cold metal parts, surprisingly lighter than you anticipated. You were convinced he only made you carry them to let you feel useful. “Believe me, I know. Known your mom since way before you were even a thought runnin’ through her mind.” 
Right. Because Joel happens to be your parents’ age and over twice your senior. One of the many reasons why getting distracted by the way his muscles flexed while picking up the grill was so beyond wrong. 
“You uh… you still live a few houses up the street?” You asked, trying your best to redirect your reckless thoughts. 
“Same old house.” He replies with a slightly strained voice from carrying the weight. Once he set it down in the backyard, he turned around to take the pieces you were holding onto. “Renovated some of it, built a new pool out back.” 
“That sounds nice, might have to check it out sometime.” You said it without even thinking much. What compelled you to think it was acceptable to tell a man you haven't seen in over a decade you would like to ‘check out’ his pool, was beyond you.
You thought Joel would chuckle it off or maybe not even acknowledge it, which he would’ve been well within his right to do, but he looked up to you from his leaning position next to the grill and said “Yeah, I think you might.” 
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You couldn’t shake off Joel’s words throughout the whole afternoon. 
First chance you got to zone out in between introductions, awkward small talk and getting asked the same thing for the thousandth time, your mind drifted back to Joel’s words. 
He was just being polite, right? He has always been a gentleman after all. Maybe it was just the southern hospitality in him, maybe he didn’t even mean it and was just trying to be nice.
Yeah, I think you might
You were probably just reading too much into it, but the way he said it seemed like a lot more than just being polite. Or, and this is a very big possibility, it’s been way too long since you’ve let anyone take you to bed and you’re latching onto the first man who looks your way. 
You try to distract your brain with the old lady in front of you instead, who’s been chatting you up about her four cats for over fifteen minutes. She’s surprisingly nice but you think you’d be enjoying her chatter a lot more if your mind wasn’t so distracted.
She notices as much.  “You doin’ alright there, sweetheart?” 
You  brush it off as best as you can. “Oh, I'm alright. I just think the trip and the unpacking is finally catching up to me.” You stand up from the lawn chair you’d been lounging on. “I’ll go grab myself a drink, can I grab you anything?” 
She smiles sweetly up at you and replies “No, sweetness, you go ahead.” 
The chatter outside dulls out as you close the glass doors behind you. You don’t bother turning on the kitchen overhead lights, relying only on light seeping in from the back yard.
The chill from the fridge hits your chest as you crack the door open to grab a can of coke. Just as you pop the tab, a shadow leaning against the door frame makes you jump. 
“Jesus, give a girl a warning.” you say bringing your hand to your chest trying to slow your heartbeat back down. 
“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you.” Joel's voice comes from the shadow
Darlin’ ? Lord, were you screwed. 
You hoped the dim lighting was doing enough to hide the burning red that was probably staining your cheeks already, especially since Joel was pushing off of the door frame and walking over to you. 
“Needed a break from the crowd too?” you ask softly, cutting through the quiet.
The corner of his lips curves up in one of his killer smirks and you can already tell that’s gonna be one of your favorite things about him. “You readin’ me like a book.” 
You give him a tiny smile and take a sip of your Coke, the cold liquid a welcome distraction. “I thought you’d be manning the grill.”
He grumbles softly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Hank’s got it covered for now. Figured I’d come check on you.”
You look up at him confused. “Check on me? Why?”
He shrugged, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. This can’t be easy, coming back after all this time.”
More than the charming smirks or the pet names or the indecipherable jabs, this knocked the air out of your chest. You were so used to everyone telling you how lucky you were, how wonderful your parents were and how great it was they could put you through college, how perfect of a life you had and how easy it seemed for you to deal with it all. You get it, that’s how it looked from the outside and you didn’t blame people for thinking that. But the truth was you had just become shockingly skilled at hiding your struggles, pretending you had everything under control and plastering a big, dazzling smile on your face.
Somehow, in the few hours that Joel has been around you, at least in this past decade, he managed to see right through this smoke screen you’ve been building your entire life to keep people from seeing what’s going on inside. 
It leaves you speechless for a second. “Oh, um…” you can’t take your eyes off of him now, far too unconcerned to notice if you’re staring. “It’s been… exhausting and a bit hectic but, you know... I’m alright. Thank you for asking, Joel.” His name slips out of your lips so easily, like you could picture yourself saying it over and over again without ever burning out. 
He looks down, almost like he isn’t used to doing this either, like he’s searching for something else to say. Then his hoarse voice breaks through the silence “Well, if you’re not, you know where to find me.” 
With one last glance, a lingering one at that, Joel turns back and leaves where he came from. Like he didn’t just tip your entire world out of balance. 
And you’re left there in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell this feeling on your chest is and why, on god's green earth, your father’s best friend won’t leave your head. 
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ichorai · 2 years ago
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broken machine ; miles morales.
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track four of BROKEN MACHINE.
pairing ; miles morales x mutant!gn!reader
synopsis ; stuck in a time loop, miles had to witness the one thing that he dreaded the most in life over and over again: your death.
words ; 5.1k
themes ; angst, action, mild fluff, mutant au, time loop au, established relationship au
warnings / includes ; repeated major character death, descriptions of injury/blood, cursing, two brief mentions of sex, wolverine & omega red & doctor strange cameos, mentions of x-men & daredevil & wong, set in an alternature universe from the mcu, miles throws up at one point, one (1) reference to spider-man: nwh wink wonk, miles' parents are adorable and i love them
main masterlist.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE ONE.
Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 
“Miles,” barked his dad. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Miles groaned into his pillow, propping himself up with his elbow and glaring at the closed door. 
Outside, a car honked. A plump pigeon hooted by his windowsill. The sun beamed directly into his narrowed eyes. 
With a muffled yawn, Miles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could smell his mom making breakfast quesadillas from the kitchen. 
The day droned on like any other. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, shrugged on the same black hoodie he wore yesterday, snatched a quesadilla from the plate—nearly burning his fingers in doing so, much to his mom’s dismay, and kissed her cheek apologetically when she scolded him for not taking out the trash like she’d asked the day before. His dad was scarfing down the steaming quesadillas by the small kitchen table, eyes scanning over the day’s newspaper. 
“All these so-called ‘heroes’… and yet crime rates are as high as ever. What a joke.” Jefferson pulled a scowl, reading on about the newest debacle with X-Men and mutants in court. 
Miles could feel his stomach twist at his dad’s words, but he pushed it down.
“Miles, come sit down and eat,” said his mom, urging him to the table.
With an apologetic grimace, Miles replied, “Sorry, ma, I gotta meet Y/N at the diner—I promised breakfast with them today. I’ll be back before dinner, okay?” 
“Alright, mijo. I want you back before the sun sets—I don’t want you out and about during the night now,” she huffed, straightening the lopsided collar of his hoodie. “Tell Y/N I said hi. Remember what I told you, Miles—use protection. And don’t forget to take out the trash!”
“Okay, okay, Jeez, mom!” blurted Miles, clearly flustered at the prospect of his mom giving him yet another sex talk. He was already pulling on his shoes and waving goodbye to his dad, who muffled out something unintelligible around a mouthful of his breakfast. Just before he was about to stride out, he remembered to grab the bags of trash and toss them into the bins outside, before hurrying down the street to the diner. 
Knowing you, you were probably already waiting at the diner, halfway done with your milkshake.
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Correction, you were well into your second milkshake by the time Miles jogged in.
“You’re late,” you told him, a fond smile on your face. “I ordered for you.”
“Bacon cheeseburger with a side of curly fries? Lemonade with extra ice?” Miles asked, sliding into the seat across from you, the sticky red leather of the booth making him grimace.
You cocked your head at him. “Yup. Extra ketchup on the side, too.”
“See, that’s just telling me we spend too much time together,” said Miles, affectionately kicking at your feet beneath the table. 
Scoffing, you popped a curly fry into your mouth. “You wouldn’t last two seconds without me.”
Before Miles could fit in a scathing remark, a loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Both you and Miles exchanged worried glances, peering out of the window to see civilians frantically running down the street. 
“Got your suit?” you asked quietly. You had yours on underneath your sweater already, since you had planned to go training with Daredevil after breakfast.
Miles bobbed his head, the light-hearted atmosphere disappearing in an instant. “In my bag. I’ll meet you there?” 
You nodded. “I don’t know what it could be this time—whatever it is, it doesn’t look pretty. Stay safe, Miles.” 
With that, you slid out of your booth, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, before dashing out of the restaurant, running against the current of the panicked crowd. Squaring his jaw, Miles darted into the diner’s bathroom, hurriedly changing into the suit May Parker had gifted him, and hopped right out the small, rectangular window. 
The fight was about two blocks from the diner. He swung down onto a streetlamp, eyes widening when he caught sight of a bloodied Wolverine pinned against the asphalt—Omega Red not too far from him, his carbonadium coils wrapped around Logan’s biceps and neck. 
Wolverine let out a growl, his adamantium claws slashing out, but not long enough to reach his attacker. 
Miles shot a web out to get closer. Though he wasn’t all that close to the infamous Wolverine, Miles knew he was a halfway decent guy, and deserved a bit of help. 
Mid-air, he blasted web fluid straight into Omega Red’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. Furious, the large man roared out an expletive, letting go of Wolverine in shock and scratching the sticky webs away from his face with one fluid motion, before rounding his angry crimson gaze at Miles. One of the metal tentacles shot out in his direction, but before it could reach him, you came barreling forward out of nowhere, a purple blade of energy stemming from your clenched fist. 
“No, kid, wait—!” gruffed Wolverine, a warning about Omega’s death spores just on the tip of his tongue.
It was too late.
Omega Red chuckled darkly as your blade of energy sunk into his abdomen with a sickly squelch. To Miles’ horror, he seemed practically unfazed by this. You snarled up at him when he wrapped one of his burly hands around your neck, the other coming up to lay over your skull. Miles scrambled forward, shouting your name, but Wolverine held him away, frantically telling him to stay back—something about deadly pheromones.
But Miles wasn’t listening. All he could see was you, and the final second of your expression shifting from determined rage, to raw fear.
A misty fog began surrounding Omega Red—his death spores. Your eyelids fluttered and you fell limp in his grasp. He was feeding off of your life energy. 
A sick crack of bone as he effortlessly crushed your head in his palm.
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Miles’ lungs.
Wolverine wouldn't let him go.
And then, it all went black.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE TWO.
Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 
“Miles,” the muffled voice of his dad drifted from beneath the doorway. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Outside, a car honked. A plump pigeon hooted by his windowsill. The sun beamed directly into his narrowed eyes. 
He immediately sat up on his bed, breathing heavy and labored. A tear fell down his cheek and Miles hurriedly wiped it away with the back of his palm.
“What the…?” he muttered beneath his breath, glancing at his phone to see that it was November seventh. 
Huh. So it must’ve all been a dream. Wolverine, that weird metal-tentacle dude, you dying…
It was all a dream.
Huffing out a sigh of relief, Miles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could smell his mom making breakfast quesadillas from the kitchen. Funny, his dream-mom had made quesadillas as well.
The day droned on like any other. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, shrugged on the same black hoodie he wore yesterday, snatched a quesadilla from the plate—nearly burning his fingers in doing so, much to his mom’s dismay.
“Miles, I told you to take out the trash!” she scolded, crossing her arms expectantly.
For a second, Miles froze. This was… eerily similar to his dream.
Realizing that he had yet to reply, Miles hastily choked out, “Sorry, ma. I’ll take it out when I leave.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“Diner. Meeting Y/N there for breakfast,” Miles responded. “I’ll be back before dinner, okay?”
From the small kitchen table, his dad glanced away from the day’s newspaper. “All these so-called ‘heroes’… and yet crime rates are as high as ever. What a joke.” Jefferson pulled a scowl, before reading on about the newest debacle with X-Men and mutants in court.
Huh. Miles could swear his dad said the exact same thing in his dream…
“Alright, mijo. I want you back before the sun sets—I don’t want you out and about during the night now,” she huffed, coming forward to straighten the lopsided collar of his hoodie. “Tell Y/N I said hi. Remember what I told you, Miles—use protection. And don’t forget to take out the trash!”
“Alright, alright, Jeez, mom!” blurted Miles, flustered at the prospect of his mom giving him yet another sex talk. He was already pulling on his shoes and waving goodbye to his dad, who muffled out something unintelligible around a mouthful of his breakfast. Just before he was about to stride out, he remembered to grab the bags of trash and toss them into the bins outside, before hurrying down the street to the diner.
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“You’re late,” you told him, a fond smile on your face. Cupped in your hands was your second milkshake, already half-empty. “I ordered for you.”
“Thanks,” said Miles as he slid into the seat across from you, the sticky red leather of the booth making him grimace. “Hey, something really weird happened this morning. It’s like—deja vu, but in my dream? Like everything I saw in my dream felt weirdly real and then when I woke up, the exact same things started to happen—”
Before he could continue explaining, a loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Both you and Miles exchanged worried glances, peering out of the window to see civilians frantically running.
This happened in my dream! thought Miles. Unless… unless it wasn’t a dream…
“Got your suit?” you asked quietly. You had yours on underneath your sweater already, since you had planned to go training with Daredevil after breakfast.
Miles opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.
You blinked at him, miffed. “Miles? We gotta go help them.”
Head feeling stuffed full with cotton, Miles bobbed his head hesitantly. “It’s, uh, it’s in my bag. I’ll meet you there?” 
You nodded. “I don’t know what it could be this time—whatever it is, it doesn’t look pretty. Stay safe, Miles.” 
With that, you slid out of your booth, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, before dashing out of the restaurant before he could even begin to think to stop you, running against the current of the panicked crowd. Squaring his jaw, Miles blew out a deep exhale and ran into the diner’s bathroom, hurriedly changing into the suit May Parker had gifted him, and hopped right out the small, rectangular window. 
As soon as Miles saw Wolverine and Omega Red a couple blocks down the diner, he knew whatever he had seen in his quote-unquote ‘dream’ hadn’t actually been a dream. Maybe he was in an alternate dimension? Or could it have been time travel of some sorts?
Whatever it was, Miles had to find you.
He swung down onto the road, ready to stop you from getting too close to Omega Red. Swiftly, he shot out web fluid straight into Omega Red’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. Furious, the large man roared out an expletive, letting go of Wolverine in shock and scratching the sticky webs away from his face with one fluid motion, before rounding his angry crimson gaze at Miles.
One of the metal tentacles shot out in his direction, but before it could reach him, you came barreling forward out of nowhere, a purple blade of energy stemming from your clenched fist. 
“No, kid, wait—!” gruffed Wolverine, a warning about Omega’s death spores just on the tip of his tongue.
Prepared, Miles pushed you out of the way, frantically yelling out, “Stay back, he’s got killer pheromones!”
But it was too late.
The long, spindly carbonadium cords darted forward and snaked around both of your ankles, sweeping you off your feet and dangling you upside down in a matter of seconds. Desperately, you tried to hack away at the metal with your energy blades. The determined snarl on your face began to wane into one of fear when it proved to be fruitless.
Omega Red grinned manically, eyeing you like a wolf would a hare. 
A misty fog began surrounding Omega Red—his death spores. Your eyelids fluttered and you fell limp in his grasp. He was feeding off of your life energy.
Miles yelled out your name, but Wolverine held him back, telling him it was for his own safety. 
“They’re long gone, kid,” the X-Man gruffed, grip unrelenting. “I’m sorry.”
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Miles’ lungs.
“Let me go!” he cried. It wasn’t a dream. None of this was a dream—it couldn’t be.
Wolverine wouldn't let him go, no matter how much Miles struggled.
And then, it all went black.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE THREE.
Three knocks to his door, in rapid succession. 
“Miles,” said his dad from the other side of the closed door. “Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
He shot up from the bed, breathing ragged. 
Miles swiped at his watery eyes, burying his face into his palms. If that hadn’t been a dream… what was it?
Car honk. Pigeon hoot. The sun beamed directly into his tired eyes. Right. This was the third time he’d lived through today. He must’ve been stuck in a time loop of some sorts. 
But how was he supposed to get out?
Swallowing heavily, Miles slipped out of bed, changing out of his pajamas, and got ready for the day. He had to get to the diner.
The mouth-watering aroma of his mom’s quesadillas wafted from the kitchen. 
“Miles, come have breakfast!” she called out just as she noticed Miles pulling on his shoes, tilting her head. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
“Out. Diner. Y/N,” said Miles, rushing. “Sorry, ma. I’ll be back soon!”
“Wait—!” she exclaimed, but he was already dashing out the door and sprinting down the block.
You were just starting on your second milkshake, brows raising when Miles stumbled into the diner, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his haste.
“Hey, you’re not late for once!” you proclaimed, clearly amused at his haggard state. But your humored expression melted away when you saw that Miles was in no smiling mood. “What’s going on? God, Miles, you need to sit down.”
Blowing out a breath, Miles slid into the booth and began to explain. It was a terrible explanation, one that made no sense at all—but Miles was desperate and clearly not thinking straight.
“Right, so, I’ve been living today for the past two days. And I’ve seen you die before—twice! I wake up every time you die. It must be like, uh, like—”
“Miles,” you said, brows furrowed. “I’m so confused right now. You’ve seen me die? Like… like a vision or something?”
“No! Uhm, yes? Wait, no, I don’t think so, at least. I—”
Before he could finish, the loud crashing resounded from far outside the diner, followed by distant screams. Your concern skyrocketed, and you glanced out the window to see what was going on. Miles pulled at the skin of his face, frustrated. 
Civilians were screaming and running every which way like headless chickens. A woman with a baby stroller tripped over the curb and you sprang up to your feet, immediately breaking out of the diner to help her.
“Y/N, wait, you can’t go—!” exclaimed Miles, rushing out after you.
“Holy shit,” you mumbled under your breath as the both of you caught sight of Omega Red and Wolverine barreling down the street in their altercation.
With no time to change into your suit, you clenched your fist, purple energy blade crackling to life around your skin, mildly burning at the cuffs of your hoodie sleeves.
“No, Y/N, listen to me, you can’t go, you’ll die!” Miles exclaimed, grabbing your forearm to stop you.
Rounding on him with a heated gaze, you shook your head. “Miles, hundreds of people are going to die! That’s Omega Red. He can kill anyone in a close vicinity. I can’t just stand back and let him do it. I need to go help Logan.”
With that, you shoved away from him, leaving Miles to stumble after you. He cursed under his breath, shooting out his webs to swing after you.
Omega Red caught sight of the both of you from afar, the red of his eyes gleaming hungrily.
The carbonadium tentacles curled around Miles first, crushing his lungs until he struggled to breath and black dots danced about his vision. He could only helplessly watch as you dived down and slashed at his legs, but were dragged out by the other coil, lifting you up by your head as if you were a ragdoll. 
To his horror, Omega Red flung you hard across the street. So hard that you crashed clean through the windows of the opposite building, and straight into three consecutive plaster walls after that.
And then everything went dark.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE FOUR.
“Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Car. Pigeon. Sun.
Diner.
This time, Omega Red threw a car at you.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE FIVE.
Quesadilla. Newspaper. Trash.
Diner.
Miles was helplessly pinned to the street as Omega Red used Wolverine’s adamantium claws to slice you to pieces.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE SIX.
Running down the street. Your milkshake spilled all over the diner table. Miles frantically trying to tell you not to go out. He was so tired.
You went out anyway.
Omega Red picked you up and ripped you clean in half with his bare hands.
Bending at the stomach, Miles threw up all over the sidewalk.
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE SEVEN.
Miles didn’t go to the diner this time. He stayed in bed, eyes unblinking and wide, his stomach roiling nauseously. 
“Miles!” came the muffled shriek of his mom. “Miles, it’s Y/N!”
Legs trembling, Miles stepped out of his room and slowly shuffled down the hall to see his mom and dad standing in front of the television. Rio’s eyes were quick to water, tears dripping down her cheek at the sight. His dad bowed his head and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.
The news was on. 
It was you, being recorded on a shaky camera—barely visible behind Omega Red, with his burly hands wrapped around your throat as he squeezed, squeezed, squeezed—
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NOVEMBER SEVEN — TAKE EIGHT.
Three quick knocks to his door.
“Up and at ‘em, kid!” 
Miles threw himself out of bed just as the car honked. He was so very tired, eyes bloodshot and limbs weary. But he couldn’t give up. 
Hastily, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas, he ran out of his room after grabbing his web shooters, barely acknowledging his baffled parents. He bolted out the door at lightning speed, using his shooters to hurl himself down the street, to the diner.
People gawked and stared at him with wide eyes. They all gawked and pointed fingers, exclaiming, “Hey, it’s knock-off Spider-Man!” 
Miles couldn’t bring himself to care.
Not wasting any time, he barged into the diner, making his way to your booth. Before you could fit in any comments about how he was late, or how he looked like he’d just gotten run over by a bulldozer, he grabbed you by the shoulders, looking you straight in the eye.
“Listen to me. I’ve been stuck in a time loop, watching you die over and over and over again. You cannot leave this diner, Y/N. I’m being serious. Omega Red is going to come rolling down the street any second now—but you can’t help in any way, no matter how much you want to, or you’ll die and it just resets the loop for me. I need to keep you alive. Do you understand?”
With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared at your boyfriend as if he’d gone mad. A part of you thought this was just some elaborate joke—but the longer you looked into his eyes—his tired, weary eyes, the more you could see how sincere he was being. He was telling the truth.
“Time loop… like groundhog day?” 
Miles nodded.
“Do you know how to fix it?”
Crestfallen, Miles blew out a shaky breath. “No. Every time you die, the day just resets and I wake up back in my room—your death is basically… inevitable.”
A sick feeling twisted in your gut. Not really at the fact that you were fated to die in this loop, but at the idea of Miles having to watch and relive that over and over again.
“Oh, Miles, I’m so sorry…” you began, unsure of what else to say. Eyes softening, Miles released your shoulders, sliding his hands down your arms to thread his fingers with yours. 
A tentative idea sprung forth when your friend and vigilante mentor, Daredevil, once mentioned in passing a certain sorcerer living in New York that specialized in all things time-related.
“I think I might know someone that can help,” you said, squeezing his hands with a hopeful grin.
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The Sanctum Sanctorum was a large, spacious building that remained suspiciously clean despite having only two ‘cleaners’ that looked far younger than you—Wong liked to call them apprentices, though. You’d passed by the building before twice—but never actually had any reason to come inside.
For such an important place, you were surprised there weren’t any guards by the door. You and Miles exchanged nervous glances, before stepping in. 
Stephen Strange was by the fireplace to the right, nursing a mug of a thick purple liquid. Draped over his shoulders was the infamous red Cloak of Levitation, which seemed to perk upwards in the presence of guests.
“Y/N L/N,” he greeted, narrowing his eyes at you, as if he’d known you were going to come. “Miles Morales—what brings the two of you to the Sanctum Sanctorum?”
How the peculiar sorcerer knew your names, neither of you had a clue.
“Hello, uh… doctor, er, sir—uhm, I’m—I think I might be stuck in a time loop?” Heat flushed over Miles’ face as he stumbled over his words, clearly overwhelmed that he was standing in front of an Avenger.
One of Strange’s eyebrows arched closer to his hairline. “You think?”
Clearing his throat, Miles winced as he replied, “I know I’m in a time loop. I’ve been living the same day over and over again more than half a dozen times.”
The sorcerer tilted his head, free hand coming up to stroke his well-groomed goatee. “Yep… that’s a time loop, alright. I’ve been stuck in one before—nasty thing it is.” The unpleasant memory of Dormammu made a grimace pull his lips thin. With that, he began striding away, leaving the two of you awkwardly standing by the Sanctum's entrance. 
After a second, Strange glanced back, rolling his eyes. “Come on, what are you two standing there dilly-dallying for?”
The two of you scampered along behind him, making your way further into the large building. Down a winding staircase you went, one that seemed to go on for ages. You peered over the railings, blanching upon seeing nothing but darkness for as far as the eye could see. Nervous, you reached out for Miles’ hand, which he gladly took.
Once the three of you had arrived by the floor, torches by the walls magically burst aflame, bathing the room in a warm clementine glow.
“Something incredibly wrong must have messed up your stream of reality’s timeline for it to fall back upon itself. Something that isn’t supposed to happen. Usually time loops occur when alternate realities collide into one another, thereby permanently damaging both realities’ time continuum—but it can sometimes happen on its own to prevent incursions from occurring in the first place. Like a safety net of sorts. It’s the universe’s way of giving you a second chance. Or… seven, in your case,” explained Strange, waving his hand in front of the Eye of Agamotto that rested just above his chest. The golden platelets pulled back to reveal a glowing emerald gem—the infamous time stone. Most of what he said had flown right over your head, but you nodded as if you understood anyway. “What is it that resets the loop each time, kid?”
Miles shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling queasy. “Y/N dies,” he mumbled.
The sorcerer’s eyebrows twitched up in surprise. 
“Ah,” he said, his usually stoic demeanor melting into one of stiff, uncomfortable sympathy. “My condolences.”
“Thanks—uh, condolences… taken? Received? Yeah,” Miles awkwardly choked out. If it weren’t the dire situation at hand, you would’ve laughed at your boyfriend’s inability to just keep his mouth shut.
A glimmer of amusement danced behind Strange’s irises, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. 
“Alright, kid, I can fix it for you—just promise not to talk during the spell. You’re not the only person who’s come to me asking to make life-altering changes to the time continuum.”
Neither of you really knew what he was talking about, but you stiffly bobbed your heads up and down nonetheless. 
With that, Stephen clapped his hands together, chanting lowly underneath his breath. The time stone began to emit a bright, lime-hued light—one that nearly hurt if you stared directly at it. 
And then… it all stopped.
Strange stopped murmuring in his foreign tongue, the stone stopped glowing, and everything felt eerily still.
Confused, Miles asked, “That’s it?”
A ghost of a smile traced the corner of Doctor Strange’s lips. “Yeah, kid. That’s it. It should all be over now—you’ll wake up in the real tomorrow, tomorrow. Now get outta here—before Wong mistakes you guys for his apprentices.”
“Thank you, Doctor Strange. This means the world to us,” you said, genuine gratitude shining through your expression as you squeezed Miles’ hand.
“Yeah, thanks Mr—Doctor—Sir… uh…” Miles began stumbling over his own tongue again, and this time, you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. Strange cracked an actual smile as well, jerking his head towards the staircase.
The two of you began walking back up the steps, a weight settled off both of your chests. Miles more so than you—having to watch you die over and over again had taken a serious toll on him.
In a blink of an eye, the stairs disappeared beneath your feet, and the two of you found yourself right outside the Sanctum. Bewildered, the two of you glanced back, only to see a golden-ringed portal just behind you. Strange saluted with two fingers, raising his mug to slurp at the mysterious mauve sludge within his mug. 
The portal closed a second later. 
You and Miles stood in a fragile silence for a long moment.
“Miles… what you had to go through… I’m so sorry, it must’ve been a living nightmare. I can’t possibly imagine what that’s like. Are you sure you’re okay? Because I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it,” you whispered, glancing his way. Your expression had softened with raw concern, practically bleeding with affection for the young man beside you.
Instead of answering your question, Miles just shook his head, tightly winding his arms around you and squeezing. His nose rested against the crown of your head as he inhaled the homely scent of your shampoo. After recovering from your initial shock, you returned the embrace, the fabric of his shirt crumpling beneath your grip. His shoulders began to tremble.
“Are you crying?” you asked when he sniffled quietly.
“No,” he replied, voice thick. “Doctor Strange just has… dusty magical carpets, is all.”
A peal of laughter fell from your lips, and you fondly knocked your forehead against his. “Careful now, wouldn’t want Wong to fire his ‘apprentices’ now, would you?”
Miles gave you a watery smile, before pulling away, holding you at arm’s length. “Can you stay with me tonight? I just… I don’t wanna lose you again. I wanna make sure I wake up in the real tomorrow—where you’d still be alive.”
Leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, you gave him a gentle grin. “Sure, Miles. Oh, we can watch the new season of Yellowjackets together!”
“Okay,” Miles said, watching you with a lovesick gaze as the two of you began walking down the street, one that made his dark irises all molten and doe-like. “Anything you want.”
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NOVEMBER EIGHT.
Miles’ eyes cracked open blearily. A ray of sun was glaring through his window, shining directly into his face. From outside, he could hear cars honking and the flutter of a pigeons’ wings as it flew away from his windowsill.
Memories of yesterday—or rather—several yesterdays, came rushing to the front of his mind. Immediately, Miles sat up in bed, his foot accidentally knocking against the laptop sitting on top of his blanket.
Initial panic beginning to wane away, Miles looked to his side, relief flooding his veins upon seeing you splayed out on the other end of his bed, cheek smushed into his pillow as you slept. You groggily mumbled something unintelligible at his sudden movement, but slipped back into a peaceful sleep not two seconds later.
You startled back awake when Miles let out a sudden whoop of unrestrained joy, loud enough to alert his parents in the kitchen.
“Ugh, Miles,” you groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow. “Shut up.”
Wincing, Miles eased back into bed, patting your shoulder while whispering, “Sorry, sorry. Go back to sleep.”
He tugged you close into his side, finding solace in your warmth—a physical reminder that you were real. 
This was real.
Miles grinned into your hairline, and clutched you all the closer.
By the time his mom and dad peeked their heads into his room to check that you two were alright, they were not at all surprised to see the kids fast asleep, limbs tangled and softly snoring away, with Miles taking up most of the space while you were squished against the wall.
The door softly shut once more, and Rio casted an amused glance at her husband, who also had the habit of taking up too much space in bed. “Like father, like son.”
Affronted, Jefferson followed after his wife as she strode away, thinking she was talking about his loud unconscious mannerisms (snoring, and, on occasion, talking in his sleep). “What? What do you mean by that? I told you, I don’t snore! Not anymore, at least…”
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lightlycareless · 25 days ago
Note
I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share
Hellooooooo
Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.
Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.
Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:
Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.
Happy reading!!
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If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.
It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:
“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”
You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.
But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.
Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.
In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.
It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.
“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.
However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!
“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”
“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”
Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.
“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”
Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.
And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.
“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.
“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”
You chuckle.
“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”
“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”
“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”
“He doesn’t have one.”
Your heart longs to comfort him.
If they only knew…
And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.
Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.
What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.
Until now.
“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.
Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:
If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.
Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.
If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.
Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.
In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.
Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.
“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!
But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”
“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.
She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.
Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.
And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?
“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”
“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”
Or how they fell in love?
Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…
There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.
And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.
Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…
To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.
This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…
“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.
“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.
…Could it?
Yes, it could. And it was.
Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…
The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…
Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …
Is what truly shocked them.
You. Naoya.
Naomi and Naori.
Mama and papa.
A family, for all intents and purposes.
What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.
Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.
“Does that mean we—”
Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.
Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.
“Why aren’t our parents together?”
Or most importantly:
“How can we get them back together?”
“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.
“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”
Naori presses his lips together, nodding.
“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.
“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”
First…
Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.
Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.
It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.
“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.
“Why?!” he gasps.
“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”
“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…
“No, Naori. It must be this!”
“But I don’t want to punch you…”
“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”
He swallows.
“I do.”
“Then do it!”
And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.
“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”
“I—I tried!” he cries.
“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”
“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”
“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”
“I do want a mom…”
“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”
With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.
Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.
But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.
“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.
Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.
As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.
“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”
“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”
You sigh.
“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”
“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”
You frown at the name.
“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”
She nods.
“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”
You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?
And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?
You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.
“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”
Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!
And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…
Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.
Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.
“Y/N.”
“Naoya.”
Looks like there’s much to catch up to.
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Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.
Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!
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angelfacedelrey · 8 months ago
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Unloved ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
summary: luke confesses some his stuggles to you, then you confess some of yours to him.
words: 1.7 k
!! MAJOR ed tw !!
a/n: this is just me venting about my ed lol. this is my first fic so please be nice <3
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There was something off about Luke. You could tell the moment you saw him. Even though you’ve only been dating for 4 months now, you know when something is wrong. During the party that the Dionysus kids insisted they threw (for pretty much no reason), he wasn’t his usual smiley and outgoing self. He seemed reserved and quiet. You were outside the dining pavilion talking to some other kids from camp. In the glow of the torches, everyone was laughing and having a good time except for him. You weren't either, but you tried to look like you were. Your arm was wrapped around his as you leaned against him and listened to the conversation, though you couldn’t focus on what they were saying. You kept glancing up at Luke every minute or so to see if he looked any happier (he never did). 
After the conversation fades out, you pull him away to a quiet area and whisper to him, “Luke, are you okay… you seem… off.”
He sighs and looks away for a second before answering, “Let’s talk by the lake.” 
Anxiety grows in your stomach. What could this mean? You just nod as he grabs your hand and takes you to the lake. The water is pitch black in the night and there is a chill in the summer air. He lets go of your hand and looks down to see your face. 
“I’m sorry… there’s just a lot going on right now,” His hand scratches the back of neck as he says this. 
“You don’t have to be sorry, Luke. I’m listening,” you say, as you look him in the eyes and gently grab his hand. “I know it must be hard since Percy and Annabeth went on that quest, I know she was like a little sister to you.”
Nervously, he clears his throat. “Yeah, but, um, it’s not just that…”
“Oh…what is it?”
He sighs and lowers his head, “Look, just promise me that you won’t view me any differently after I tell you this.”
“No, no,” you say hastily, while shaking your head. “There’s nothing you could ever say to me that will make me view you differently, Luke. I’ll love you no matter what, I promise.”
Luke looks you in the eyes again. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” a reassuring smile grows on your face.
He can’t help but smile with you. He’ll remember that. “Look, it’s just about my dad… Do you ever feel… betrayed by our godly parents?”
Taken aback by the question, you stop to think before answering. “Betrayed how?”
“Like, they just ignore us, like we’re nothing to them. Like we’re not even their children.”
“I-I guess so. I mean I feel like that sometimes.”
“That shouldn’t be how it is, though,” He sighs and keeps talking. “I don’t think Hermes even knows most of his kids. Most of my half siblings have barely met him, if at all. It’s just so… infuriating. He goes around, siring kids, and then sits up in Olympus and just leaves them. I’ve spent my entire fucking life wondering where my father is. Waiting for him to maybe one day come and talk to me or just acknowledge my existence. But, no. I’ve only met him once, because he can’t be bothered to get to know his own fucking kid!” 
For a moment, he runs his hand through his curls and exhales before he continues. “And what I’m about to say might sound… bad…but seeing Percy get claimed just like that after finding out he’s a half blood for, like, what a week? It just intensified everything I felt before… Like some kid just shows up and now he’s loved by everyone and claimed by his father. And yet, I fight everyday and what do I get? Nothing! I’m the best sword fighter in camp, I pray, I give offerings, I’ve done everything right. But it’s still not enough for him… I’m just so fucking tired of these Gods just doing whatever they want and not caring who they hurt…”
After saying all that he turns back to look at you. You're standing there in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. 
“Luke, I… I’m so sorry,” you walk over and give him a hug. He hugs you back and rests his chin on your head. A few silent moments pass as you stay like that. The sound of campers excitedly chatting and partying could be heard distantly behind them. 
“Do you see me differently now?” He asks, quietly.
You pull away, but keep your hands on his arms, gripping him gently. “No, Luke, I really don’t. I told you nothing you say will ever make me view you differently.”
“I know it’s just that… most people would think that I’m… weak for feeling this…”
“Weak?” You look shocked. “How could anyone ever think you’re weak? You’re one of the strongest people I know!” You kiss him softly on the cheek and smile reassuringly causing a slight blush to appear on his cheeks. 
“I understand what you’re saying, trust me. I, of all people, understand what it’s like to do your best to get your parent’s love and praise… and yet, it’s never enough,” You say, trying to give him a sympathetic look.
“You understand?” Luke asks, his face softening a bit. 
“I understand all too well…” You say with a humorless laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but…”
“But?” 
“Well, y’know with Aphrodite being the goddess of beauty and all…there’s, um, a lot of pressure for us to look a certain way…”
Sighing slightly, Luke brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Is this about… dieting?” He says it carefully, unsure of how to word it correctly. 
“Yeah,” you look away, ashamed to be telling someone this. “I’ve been counting calories since I learned to count. I obsess over every little thing I consume. I eat as little as I can, yet it always feels like too much. I go on runs or swims everyday… and it’s still never enough. I’m never thin enough… I love my mom, but… I can’t help, but feel like she made me start doing this.”
Now it’s Luke’s turn to stand there in stunned silence. “I had no idea… that you’re going through all this. I-I’m sorry, I should’ve noticed.” He thinks back to everyday in the dining pavilion when he’d look over to you at the Aphrodite table and see you playing with your food instead of eating. Or all the times when you’d say you weren’t hungry and would change the subject to anything besides food. Or all the daily runs he’d see you go on. Or, most concerning of all, the quick weight loss. How all your clothes that used to fit, now hang over your body like a shower curtain. Your once cherub-like face became pale and almost gaunt with dark circles under your eyes and a tired expression always. How has no one noticed? How has he never noticed?
You just shake your head and give him a gentle smile. “Luke, it’s okay. I tried my hardest to keep it hidden. Also, my mental state isn’t your responsibility…”
“But I’m your boyfriend,” grabbing your hands gently, he looks at you with a sympathetic expression. “It’s my job to care for you, especially when you’re… sick. Does anyone else know?”
“No,” you shake your head once more. “You’re the first person I told… It’s not a big deal, I’m not even that sick.”
“What?” He says, his eyebrows furrowing together as a shocked expression etches onto his face. “Not that sick? Y/N, you’re starving yourself! That sounds pretty sick to me.”
You just shrug in response.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since like,10 or 11. I told you, I’ve been counting calories since I learned to count.”
He stands there quietly for a bit, as his heart sinks. “That young?”
“Yeah,” you respond. 
“If you don’t mind me asking… How many calories do you eat in a day?”
“I-I don’t know,” you lie, you know exactly how many calories you consume, down to the stick of gum you’d chew for a snack. “Like about 400-800…” You try (and fail) to fight back a smile that grows on your face. Despite how unhealthy it is, you can’t help, but feel proud of it. 
Luke, on the other hand, just feels shocked and concerned. “That-that’s nothing… and for so long. Y/N, you need help. You’re killing yourself.”
“I know, believe me, I know… But I can’t stop.” 
He reaches up and cups your face, rubbing circles with his thumbs before kissing your forehead. “I wish you could realize you’re perfect the way you are. I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else does,” he says it softly. “I’d love you, no matter how you look.”
“Really?” You ask, while a blush appears on your cheeks.
“Really,” He says, tenderly grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. You rest your head against his chest and once again, you stay like that for a while.
Slowly, you pull away and smile softly at him. “I’m getting tired, can you stay with me tonight?... Not to do anything, but just like to… be with me…” You hastily added the last part, but hesitated. Most guys don’t react kindly to you saying you don’t want to do anything.
“Of course,” Luke responds. “But can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Can you try to… eat better tomorrow? Please, just try…”
You hesitate before answering, “I will. I’ll try.”
He smiles brightly, “That’s my girl.” He gently grabs your hand and walks you to Cabin 10.
You spend the rest of the night together in your bed. However, Luke doesn’t get much sleep. 
He holds you close to his chest as you sleep and thinks about everything you had told him. He hates himself for not noticing sooner. But a very small part of him feels relieved. If your mom caused you this much pain, then maybe convincing you to join him in taking down the Gods wouldn’t be as hard as he thought…
He hates himself even more for thinking that.   
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darkcomets · 5 months ago
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God I was not ready for that 😭
MAJOR SPOILERS LOL
BAKUGO’S DEATH HAD NO RIGHT BEING THAT GOOD, GOD DAMMIT-
Boy don’t I love seeing my favourite character die
I love his character and development, and while I know that he’s coming back, I’m still crying over this. Well done MHA, you’ve officially broken me for life
Bakugo started off as an absolute asshole of a kid, a product of society. Because of his quirk, he was always complimented and encouraged by his classmates, which helped inflate his ego. He was bratty and aggressive, mainly thinking of himself, constantly trying to beat down Midoriya because of his own insecurities.
But because of the newer environment at UA and all of the villain attacks and events that forces high schoolers into situations they shouldn’t have to handle yet, Bakugo has been forced to see that he isn’t the strongest person around, and that he isn’t the centre of the world. A fact that he eventually has to accept. And we can see that it works. Bakugo and Midoriya’s relationship throughout the series is one of the most important ones (in my opinion) for both of their characters and perhaps the storyline too. It starts off with a bully and victim, two people who have been stuck with each other for basically their entire lives. Bakugo bullied and abused Midoriya for his quirkless mess to make himself feel superior, and once they got into UA, the bullying died down because of the new environment they’re in that won’t enable Bakugo’s behaviour, but their relationship was still strained. After being forced to work together time after time again, they eventually start to learn to work together. Then Camino happened and Bakugo basically broke down in front of Midoriya, expressing his frustrations and anger at his weakness and Midoriya’s newfound strength, and the two of them fought. The fight ended pretty quickly (I think), but by the end of it, the two seemed to have gained a better understanding of each other.
In the movie, Heroes Rising, we can see the two now being able to work together. Izuku is at a point where he is able to trust Bakugo with giving him One For All, and Bakugo asks him ‘What about your dream?’ He is literally thinking about Izuku in this moment, and his future, and sounds like he is almost worried. While he doesn’t remember anything afterwards, it was a hell of a fight, and their relationship has continued to evolve.
In Season 6, during the first war, Bakugo literally sacrifices himself for Midoriya. His body ‘moved without thinking’ so it was an instinct to protect Midoriya, someone he used to despise and constantly shit on. And during Deku’s vigilante arc, he not only stood in front of Class 1A and somewhat led them in the search for him, he apologises to Midoriya for everything he had done. Of course, an apology can’t undo everything that he had done to Deku in middle school and before that, but it is a huge development in his character. Because the Bakugo that we started off with would never have ever apologised once. Bakugo is calm throughout the entire apology, and not an inch of anger or aggression is shown in his expression, this is pure and genuine emotion. He admits his weaknesses and his reasons for his actions towards Midoriya, acknowledging them as something he should not have done. He knows that an apology doesn’t change what he has done, but Bakugo is willing to change. He is starting this change by calling Midoriya ‘Izuku’ instead of Deku. Bakugo using his first name shows how their relationship has grown immensely and that they really have gotten closer. It’s a huge moment for the two of them, and what ultimately causes Izuku to finally relent and falls into Bakugo’s arms. And now in Season 7, during the battle against Shigaraki, Bakugo reflects on things with Shigaraki’s words. And most of those thoughts is Izuku. And right as he’s walking up to Shigaraki, ready to fight again, he is thinking of Izuku. He thinks about All Might, and admits himself that he was ‘kind of a brat’ when they first met (slight understatement, but still). And right as his body falls onto the ground, the All Might card he opened with Izuku falls next to him. He kept it, after all those years. Something he opened with Midoriya. Personally, I see it as some kind of significance that it’s Izuku losing a key part of him. They started this journey together, and now one of them has fallen, and two has become one. I am not ready to see his reaction oh my god-
That’s just how I see things. I might be a bit biased as a bkdk shipper, and I probably got some things wrong since I haven’t watched the anime in a short while, but that’s my view on this. Bakugo isn’t a saint for apologising and calling Izuku by his actual name, but I think that’s the whole point of his character development. Going from an absolute asshole who looks down on everybody around him and thinks himself better than those around him, to someone who knows that he was wrong for his previous actions and has started to learn to work with the people around him. Someone who still has his flaws but is learning to get over them, acknowledging his own weaknesses. Bakugo isn’t an amazingly kind person like Izuku, but he has still made amazing development in character. And that’s what makes him one of my favourite
Damn this is long 😭
Tell me if I got anything wrong or missed anything out
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a5rora · 1 year ago
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❤️‍🔥Old Flames
billy the kid x rich f!reader
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word count; 5.9k words | dividers by @cafekitsune
ch.𝙸
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SYPNOSIS༇ In Billy’s lonesome world, comes along his significant former lover from his adolescence that he faces once again after being separated from one another. After not being with you for over a decade, he doesn’t know how to face you when he has begun a life of crime, a wanted man with many enemies. He doesn’t want to lose his lover once more, but could she ever love him along with all his flaws? Will their love prevail despite the reputation of Billy the kid?
content warning: FLUFF, eventual SMUT, loss of virginity, violence, slight angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of memory loss, substance abuse¿, ollinger, mentions of alcoholism, flashbacks intended, smoking, mentions of religion/catholicism, storytelling is inspired by the original show’s major elements/events. (billy’s birthname is henry mccarty)
a/n : ask and you shall receive ;) i went kinda crazy with this chapter. all feedback/results considered, i hope y’all enjoy
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“Y/n!”
Billy reaches for your hand with his as the gunshots and wails echo from the vast landscape, but you don’t look back.
You stretch your arm to hold his and your gaze stays straight ahead of you. Billy looks back at you, pressing his lips as he forces a comforting smile.
You both slow down to walk as you near the meadows by the river, the moonlight illuminated the water and gave you light. You both stayed silent, not mentioning anything about what you had both witnessed whilst in the forest. He noticed that it wouldn’t be long until you were both back in the perimeters of the town. You glance at Billy, still clutching his hand.
“Henry! Look at your arm!” he heard you exclaim from alongside him and he looks to the bleeding cuts that spread along the side of his wrists. He winced and paused to examine the condition of his cuts, some were deeper than others.
He assumes it was from the recollection of him reaching his hand out to you as you exited the forest and he remembered feeling a sense of pain as he did. However, it was strange that it had only started to hurt when he noticed it.
You grab his arm and examine it closely, some dirt on the cuts. “Must’ve been those sharp branches earlier.” you tsked and you look up at him as he stands there.
You roll your eyes and pull him by his hand towards the river. When you reached the water, you squat down and gesture him to inch closer to you. He watches as you grab his arm and begin to scoop up water with your palm to wash off the dirt in his cuts.
The cold water stings his skin within the first contact but seeing you, distracted him from the discomfort. His gaze is focused on you as you use your fingers to remove the remaining residue of dirt left on his skin.
You stand up and lift the fabric of your skirt, leaving Billy confused until you grab his arm and patted it clean as if the expensive material was a cloth. You notice his stare. “That’s the dress your mama gave you isn’t it?”
“What? Never liked it anyways.” You exhale, fixing your dress.
“These cuts will go away, don’t you say so?” Billy asked and you look at him awkwardly before answering with full honesty.
“Maybe you ought to say something to your mom.”you say. “Tell her you fell while we were playin’.” you suggested but he bit his lip hesitantly.
Frankly, he didn’t like lying to his mom, but it was probably the only excuse he could use, and it wasn’t an old one.
His mom, Kathleen, didn’t like you being around her son all that much but you were his truest friend after all. Your families were only close because of your dads’ long friendship. His parents had immigrated from Ireland with your father before he eventually met your mom while travelling in Mexico.
As you two walked together back home in the quiet night, you and Billy joked with each other throughout the empty darkness.
You’re both laughing after Billy mentions a joke about his stepfather, poking fun at his looks. “He does look like a tomato when he’s drunk.” you agreed.
Billy is looking at you with a smile as you continue laughing. You’re almost close to your house when Billy takes your hand but he interlocks his fingers with yours, something he’d never done before.
“Billy what are you doing-.” he cuts you off with a kiss on your lips, and you kiss him back.
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WILLIAM H BONNEY : WANTED FOR NUMEROUS CRIMES
You gasp quietly, overwhelmed by the realization you had come to. Quiet sobs left your mouth as the moment played in your head over again.
The polite man who treated you with profound reverence and kindness was a dangerous man- at least according to the poster above you.
You were pulled away from your thoughts when you hear the faint sounds of Billy’s sharp voice. “You don’t fucking touch her ever again, Ollinger. If you do, I’ll be sure to break more than your fucking limbs,” he growled, gripping the collar of Ollinger’s sweater before slamming him back down on the ground.
Billy uses his non-injured knee to leverage himself up off the floor. He catches your gaze, quickly coming over to you and using his thumb to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Shhh, c’mon with me.” He whispered softly.
You didn’t protest when he abruptly took your wrist to follow him.
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“Go for it Billy boy!” Jesse cheers from the tables near the doors. Billy gathers himself after Olinger’s punch to his face, causing his lips to bleed.
“Yeah, Billy go for it. I’ll beat your ass any day.” Ollinger grinned in the same manner that seemed to vex Billy everytime he saw the look on the man’s face.
Billy’s head drops for a moment, his jaw clenching. When he looks up, his piercing gaze is shooting daggers at Olinger’s direction before he forces his body to the ground using his arms.
After threatening the older outlaw, Billy got up, stepping over Olinger’s fallen body. Billy sees your horrified face and all he wanted to do was confront the feelings that ached in his heart.
Billy was a wanted man in many towns across the state and he found it surprising that you had no recollection of him or his reputation from anywhere and anyone.
It was a weird thought that always seemed to wander in his mind but deep down, there was also an underlying fear that you wouldn’t associate with him if you knew what he was capable of, what he’s done.
He wasn’t thinking properly although the liquor had worn off, when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you outside of the bar.
He held both of your hands in his larger ones, “I’m sorry that I left. Jesse got into a fight with one of them Chinese men and got my horse stolen.” He explained but it wasn’t the ideal explanation you wanted.
“Are you alright?” he asks, examining your face and you nod to him.
You sighed, seeing the bloody marks that Ollinger had left on him. You felt an immense obligation in your heart to take care of the small injuries he endured for you. You did owe it to him after all. Your mind couldn’t fathom the alternate circumstance you would have ended up in had he not been there to protect you.
For that reason, you were incredibly grateful for him.
“Look at you.” You looked up at him, your hand reaching for his face. He avoided your gaze as you turned his face to you. He looked worse up close, his busted lip was bleeding. Small cuts all over his face.
“Promise you I’m all good darlin.” He chuckled, watching you examine his sustained injuries. You feel as the blood rushes to you cheeks at the name he called you.
“Your leg’s hurt Billy.” you responded and he shook his head at you, you cross your arms in annoyance.
“No bunny, ‘M fine.” He assures you before making you face him. The nickname has you taken aback because the sound of it is reminiscent to your ears.
“Did he hurt you?” he inquired in a serious tone.
“I’m fine now.” You answer with a small smile. “Your horse got stolen you said.” you quickly brought up and he pressed his lips, giving you a nod. “Well then come with me.” You insisted, holding his wrist as you lead him to your horse. Loosening the rope from the fence your horse was tied to, you turned to Billy. “We’ll go to my uncle’s shop,” you suggested. “He’s got some things there. That alright?” he gave you a small smile of approval.
With that, you made your way to your Uncle Murphy’s shop.
Billy’s heart raced when you lead him to your Uncle’s shop. His heart stopped at once when you both reached the building. “This ain’t a good idea Y/n.” He warned you.
Oblivious to Billy’s own concerns, you reassure him and gesture him to come up to the porch. “I’m tellin’ you it’s alright.” You gripped tighter on his hand to pull him but he doesn’t budge.
“Seriously Billy?” you deadpan and he stands still. you step down from the porch. “Okay princess, where do you suppose we go then?” you question him as you raise your eyebrows in irritation.
“We can’t be going to Jesse’s place alright. Don’t wanna see that fucker.” You spat out, referring to Olinger and Billy shakes his head.
“Wasn’t thinkin’ of that.”
You thought harder before Billy interrupted you. “Got a friend somewhat near here. His name’s Charlie.” he suggested and you nod.
He took the lead of your horse in his hands and you followed him while he directed you to his friend’s house.
You knew there wasn’t any going back now. You took a deep breath and embraced the decision that you made.
Billy looks back at you, watching as the sense of uneasiness appears on your face. “Y’ trust me?” his question had you wondering for a moment, how much could you trust him? After all, Billy was an outlaw for goodness sake.
Being aware of his crimes, you still swept away your doubts. Instilling your trust in the man as you nod to answer him.
Afterwards, Billy grabs the lead of your horse from you and you let him.
As you walked alongside Billy into the empty grassland, the light of the town descended into evanescence, the dark sky and sounds of the wilderness was the only thing that surrounded the two of you as you hiked through the tall grass.
Billy was caught up in his own thoughts. Why did you trust him so easily if you had no memory of him?
You didn’t have to follow him through the darkness but you did. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Maybe you remembered him, he hoped and held onto it.
Until a glimpse of light appeared from the dark, grassy field, Billy spoke up, “That’s his house there.” He says, gesturing to the light that lit up a small house nearby.
He shook his thoughts away once you reached a few feet from the fences. Once you neared the fence, Billy came up to the window to look inside the home.
He knocked on the door and it opened, revealing a man who you assume to be Charlie. He was about the same height as Billy, and had short brunette hair that swept to the side. “Hello… Billy,” He greeted awkwardly, taking notice of his friend’s rough state and your presence.
You awkwardly smile when Charlie’s gaze finds you. “Come inside.” He offered and Billy quickly tied your horse to a wooden post, following you inside.
“What happened to you?” Charlie asked Billy as he sat down on the chair near the window. “Got into it with Bob Olinger,” he answered before continuing, “you know him?”
Charlie gives him a quick nod, looking towards you before asking, “Who might you be?”
“Forgive me, I’m Y/n. Just a friend of Billy’s.” You shortly introduced before a lady’s voice speaks from behind you.
“What’s going on?” Charlie’s wife comes up to him, yawning tiredly. Your eyes find Billy but his eyes are already on you. Billy shared the same guilt you did, for interrupting the couple for your own problem.
“Hey Manuela.” Billy greets in awkward tone and she returns the greeting with the same manner.
“Could you please fetch me any medical supplies you might have? I’d like to fix up Billy here.” You asked politely and she nods, looking at Billy before leaving.
She quickly brings a basket of supplies, placing it on the table in front of you. “Gracias.” you tell her and she nods with a small smile
Charlie places a chair facing Billy for you to sit on. “Thank you both for your kindness.” you thanked them dearly as you sit down and Charlie nods at you with a smile. Billy’s gratitude comes after yours, thanking his friend for letting you inside during this time of night. His wife says goodbye before returning back to their room.
You start cleaning the cuts on his face before bandaging them up. Charlie speaks up, “What happened exactly?”
“He-.” Billy starts but you cut him off.
“Just bein’ an asshole.” you answered with a shrug.
“You still workin’ with them then?” Charlie asks Billy and he nods.
“Y’know the circumstances Bowdre. Surely you can understand.” Charlie takes a deep breath before nodding.
It wasn’t your conversation to hear but you were deeply invested.
“It’s a longer way back for y’all to return all the way back to town so it’s best you stay here for the night.” He suggests.
You quickly worried about what your brother and father would do if they didn’t find you in the morning but Billy’s voice interrupts you. “Thanks Charlie.”
“There’s the guest room at the end of the hallway. Bed should big enough for you both.” His last sentence caught you off guard and a sudden heat rose in your cheeks.
“G’night to you two.” Charlie gave a small smile and you both say goodnight to him.
You turn towards Billy, cleaning up the cut on his lips. Billy’s azure eyes watch you as you focused on him. Once you placed a bandage gauze on Billy’s bottom lip, your eyes lock with his lingering ones. The air in the room stills as the atmosphere between you intensifies.
His gaze fell upon your lips. It took Billy all of his might to prevent himself from placing his longing lips on yours. He imagined what they’d taste like after being apart from you for what felt like forever.
You quickly looked away, standing up and gathering yourself. “Shall we?” you gestured to the guest room.
“You gonna sleep in that dress?” Billy asked you, pulling his leather boots off. You quickly realized and let out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’ll be quick I promise.” your lips form a soft smile.
You headed into the guest room and Billy whispered under his breath, “You don’t gotta be sorry.”
You enter the dimly lit room, taking off your boots and placing them on the ground below the width of the bed. You undressed yourself from your dress. It was lucky for you that you didn’t pick a big dress for tonight, imagining the struggle if you had to walk across the field with one.
With your undergarments left, you struggled to take off the corset. You sighed, trying one last time to pull it off you before giving up completely. You cursed to yourself before you quickly opened the bedroom door and quietly called out for Billy. He looks over to you and grabbed his belongings, walking up to the door which you stayed behind.
He looked at you with a confused look on his face, wondering why you poked your head from the side of door.
“Could you help me take off this off?” you asked with an awkward smile and gestured to your corset.
“Sure.” He answered politely and you opened the door to let him in. Billy removes his hat, along with his belt that held his revolver before he placed them on the nightstand.
He gestures you to turn around and you spun around to place your hands on the bed post to support yourself. Billy begins to untie the laces that trapped you inside the material before you break the silence. “Your leg alright?” you remember that he’d walked a good distance to this house with a bad knee.
“It’s better now. I’ve got you to thank you for takin’ care of me.” He said softly, his breath on your neck causing goosebumps on your skin.
You turn to look at him with an endearing expression, “Thank you for bein’ there to protect me. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been-.” he cuts your babbling off with a hush from his lips.
“Shh, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout him now, or ever.” Billy assured you.
“What about you? Thought he was a friend of yours.” you mention and he stays silent for a moment.
“He’s no friend of mine, just work with him that’s all.”he shortly replies and your mind lingers to the rumors you’ve heard recently about a dangerous gang out here in Lincoln, being funded by some business crook.
There’d been many tragic stories about farmers dying recently because of some crook that cheated them and drove them away from their land.
“That better?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought as his cold hand brushing against your arm and sends shivers down your spine.
You pull your corset off and felt Billy’s wandering eyes on you. “Thank you.” you smile and he gives you a small one.
You sit down on the edge of the bed, trying to get comfortable in your outfit despite the cold air stinging your skin. Your eyes fall upon Billy as he unbuttons his vest and then his dress shirt.
His eyes take notice of your staring and he chuckles, “Some would say it’s rude to stare.”
You open your mouth in shock before pressing your lips in embarrassment until you tilt your head at him. You leaned back to place your elbows on the mattress. “Look who’s talkin’.” you tease and he shakes his head at you while he grins. “Have you always been a hypocrite?” You bantered with a cheeky smirk.
Billy couldn’t conceal the love that twinkled in his eyes as it centers on you. He walks closer to you and you catch the light that glimmered within his cerulean eyes. “You’re beautiful.” his words caught you by surprise and you light up with a smile that drives him weak in the knees.
“Well then what are you waitin’ for cowboy?” A cheeky grin forms from your mouth, gesturing for him to lay beside you.
“’M not a cowboy darlin’.” he corrected you with a smile and crawled onto the bed beside you.
You giggled at him and smile. “Just handsome and kind.”, you yawn before sighing, the exhaustion was evident in your sigh. Billy felt his heart race as he laid down beside you, pulling the covers over your bodies.
As you get comfortable, you can’t help the shuddering movements your body made. Since the beginning of winter, the nights were colder and you’d even be wearing twice the layer of clothing. Especially thicker fabric than the material you wore right now.
Billy couldn’t ignore the shivering that came from your body beside him. He turns to face your back before gently putting his arms around you, engulfing your body in his warmth. “I’ve got you.” he whispers against your ear. “G’night bunny.” his words making your heart flutter.
“G’night Billy.” you murmur, and you felt a inextricable reminiscence from saying his name.
The sensation reminded you a word that you recently learned, it felt like déjà vu.
Billy heard as you let out a quiet sigh. You brushed away your thoughts and shut your eyes, moments before your mind immediately drifted into slumber.
Billy could stay like this forever, with you in his arms. He’d never let you go. The nostalgic scent of your pheromones drove him crazy. He wished that he could kiss the skin on your neck and every exposed part of your body, like he used to many years ago…
Your body curls up on the end of your soft mattress as you attempt to dodge his arms but failing miserably. “Billy that tickles!” you shriek in laughter, calling him by the nickname you gave him. He merely liked it because you liked it, it’s origins came from a German name, but it simply translated to ‘protector’ and Billy was yours.
Unfortunately as of right now, he attacked you. “It’s not funny!” you protest but he ignores you, leaning closer to your body. You attempt to push him away but you fail miserably as he tickles your sides once more, earning another shriek from you and Billy laughs at you as he pulls away.
As you regain composure, he stayed hovering above you, slowly leaning down closer to you to leave a little kiss on your collarbone. With his eyes fixed on yours, you looked up at him with doe eyes and he doesn’t resist the urge of pressing his soft lips against yours.
You kiss him back for a moment before pushing him away with your hands on his broad shoulders. This was the first time you’ve both shared a kiss since you were 14 years old. Your mouth hangs open in shock and he looks at you with a similar expression. He immediately regrets his actions but they don’t last for long when you pull his collar towards you to bring his lips into a kiss.
His tender lips move against yours and his cold hand gently grips your waist. The sudden touch of his hand against your skin made you whimper quietly into his lips. His hand snakes to your back as you lean to sit up. His knees rested on the sides of your legs.
The kiss became intense as your emotions did too. His left hand holds your waist as the other softly gripped your cheeks, his thumb brushing against your skin. He pulls back from you before murmuring, “Do you want this? D’you trust me darlin’?” You nod as you batted your lashes at him.
“Yes Billy, forever. You know I’ll always do.” you answered, the sincerity in your tone dragged in every syllable. You knew that your family would definitely not approve of your actions right now, they’d called it the sin of fornication. But it mattered that only your heart and soul discerned that Billy is the one for you.
You smiled at him wholeheartedly and Billy felt his heartbeat race as he smiled back. The love he felt towards you from his soul resonated and sparkled in his eager, blue eyes. You put your hand on his neck as you pulled him into another kiss and he brings his hands down to his shirt, fumbling the buttons on his long-sleeve shirt as he undo them.
He takes it off and pressed his lips deeper into yours, as he wrapped an arm around your back and flipped you on top of him. His head rested against the headboard and you sit comfortably on his hips. The sudden friction aroused you both, causing the bulge in his pants growing as the heat rose between your legs.
As his hand wandered your curves, the other helped you as you removed the dress that weighed you down, the cold air swam against your bare skin. You remove his white shirt, exposing his bare torso underneath and you lean down to lay your chest against his.
The warmth of your skin colliding with his and the same for your lips as you slyly grinded on his crotch, eager for any sensation. Feeling his dick twitch from bliss, his finger pulls at the fabric of your underwear before pulling it off completely as he sits both of you up. He unzips his pants before pulling it down with your assistance and you settle back on him. You clash your lips into his, grabbing his hair as your lips moved in harmony, tasting the desire for one each other.
His hands find your waist, and he subtly moves your hips against his. “Billy, I want you.” you moan into the kiss, feeling his hardened cock beneath your cunt, and the sound drives him weak.
“I want you too.” He soothes and you take his hand in yours, bringing his fingers to the slip of your bra. He pulls it down, revealing your bare chest. He admires you for a moment before leaning towards you to place a trail of kisses down on your neck. He kisses all the way down to your cleavage, trailing wet kisses on your breasts.
Your fingers pull down the fabric of his underwear, revealing his erect cock. Upon seeing it for the first time, you were unsure if you could even handle it but you pushed your doubts away. Billy taking notice of it, slightly grins and pecks your lips softly. “Don’t worry, ‘M gonna take good care of you.” he murmurs lovingly. He uses his arms to flip you around so your back lays against the mattress before he breathes into your neck and kisses all the way down to your chest before stopping right on your abdomen.
Your wetness allows his finger to ease into you and a moan of pleasure and slight discomfort leaves your mouth, urging Billy to continue. He brought you into a kiss to silence you as he moves his finger against your walls before adding another, making you mewl. Your head lolls back from the sensation, “it- feels so good Billy-.”
Billy watches in amazement as your body squirms in pleasure, never separating his gaze from your figure. When a sudden mewl escapes your lips, you use your palm to cover your mouth in an effort to muffle the uncontrollable sounds that his fingers forced out of you.
“Let me hear you baby.” he says, grabbing your hand from your mouth and intertwining his with yours. He continues pumping his fingers through your walls and his thumb reaches for your clit and plays with the bundle of nerves, making you grip his arm for dear life. His fingertips brush against your velvet walls as he curls his fingers inside you, “You’re so wet f’me.” you don’t say anything as you gaze up at him.
Your doe look drives Billy’s thoughts feral and he places a soft, wet kiss on your lips using his fingers to bring your face closer. “I want you inside of me.” you whine as you look up at him and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart jump.
“God, you’re soakin’ all over my fingers doll.” he murmurs, amused by how he made you feel and the way your body reacted to his fingers. You ignore his comment and you beg once more.
“Please, Billy.”
He pulls his fingers out of you, placing his hands on your knees to spread your legs just right for him to slide his body between them. He kneels between your legs, spreading the pre-cum from his painfully pink tip all over his girthy cock as he pumps his length, he bites his lips as he watches your mouth hang low with your breasts heaving.
“You’re gorgeous.” he breathes, feeling the continual rush of excitement to his cock from the sight of you below him.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” he heard you giggle teasingly and he smiles at you with desire in his eyes. He places his elbow on each side of your arms, his body inching towards yours and you feel his tip poke your stomach as he leans to kiss you with passion. “Fuck me Billy.” you moan as you kissed him and he pulls away from your lips.
“As you wish darlin’.” he whispers with a cheeky smirk, placing a soft kiss on your lips and one on your cheek. He leans back, resting on his knees and you feel his tip brush along your leaking entrance and a jolt of excitement runs through you.
He watches beneath you, his hand grips your thigh while the other guides his cock as it slides over your sloppy folds, his tip kissing your clit deliciously with every movement of his hips. His mouth hanging low from the sensation. You gasp softly as he pokes his tip inside. He quickly leans towards you, resting his elbows on the bed.
“Tell me if it hurts alright baby.” he says, thrusting himself deeper into you, your pussy hugged his length so achingly tight that it made his cock twitch.
You wince in pain from the size of him, slightly overwhelmed by the new sensation. He stops to kiss you, and his hips thrust deeper until your cunt engulfs his entire length but his lips silence your moans of discomfort. Billy groans, his cock was sensative from your warmth, how snug his cock felt inside you.
“Let me know when, okay my love?” he whispers to you and you nod. You wrap your arms around his back and lean to kiss him, moving your hips for friction. Your hand comes up to grip his hair as he thrusts his hips ever so gently, being careful not to hurt you.
“Please Billy, fuck me.” you plead as you pull away from the kiss and he obliges, dragging his cock out before thrusting the length back in, splitting you apart in bliss.
“God, you feel so good.” you cried out. He kisses your neck as he thrusts himself in and out of you. He throws his head back in pleasure, feeling your warmth clench around him.
“You take me so fucking well darlin’.” he praises and presses his lips to yours. “Your pussy is fuckin soakin’ for my cock- Y’feel so goddamn good around me.” he moans, slightly biting your neck as he reaches down to suck on it, leaving red marks on your skin, a subtle way to mark you as his.
Your legs wrap around his torso, holding him close to you. His hips pulling away to dive back into you again. You run your fingers through his hair and hold onto his brown curls as you moaned uncontrollably with ecstacy.
Billy can’t take his eyes from your fucked-out state, whining from the immense pleasure his cock gave you. He felt a swell of pride in his chest knowing he was the one who made you feel like this and he’ll make sure he’d be the only one forever. Brushing his thumb over your cheek, he trails wet kisses all over your neck.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he cooed against your skin. His eyes travel all over your glistening body, covered with sweat.
“You’re mine forever, all mine.” his lips clash into yours with a passionate tenderness that melts your chest as you tasted each other.
“Billy- don’t stop.” you moan and he pulls away from the kiss, using his thumb to play with your clit. His girthy length drags through your soaking walls and it coats his cock with your creamy arousal. Yours moans hitch unison as his tip kisses the sweet spot of your cervix, a squeal escapes your lips. Billy groans, feeling himself get closer and closer to his release and your lewd sounds driving his mind crazy.
He kisses you as his hand moves from your clit to your ass, he grabs the flesh and slowly squeezes it. Billy leans backwards to grab your legs and place them over each of his shoulders. Once he thrusts his hips forward, his cock sinks deeper into your cunt, igniting a twist of warmth rising in your stomach with each thrust.
You sob, “god- Billy you’re so deep-.” your voice hitches and he holds your face as his lips devour yours. The wet sounds of his cock sliding into your pussy and your moans of pleasure echoes in your bedroom. You clench around his aching cock, making him moan louder.
“Are you close bunny?” he asks and you can only nod back to him, unable to focus on anything but the heavenly sensation as he drove his cock into you.
“Let loose for me baby- I’ve got you doll.” he says lovingly, pressing soft kisses all over your cheek as you cry from the pleasure. Your hands travel to his back, one hand gripping his shoulder as your nails scratched the skin of his back while you moan out his name. His balls slapped against your skin with every movement of his hips.
His blue eyes watched in awe as your face contorts in bliss, a wave of pleasure enveloping your body as you came undone on his thick cock. You repeatedly moan his name when your orgasm hits you and it’s music to Billy’s ears. Your warmth clenches around him so tight, he’s already pulling out before your enticing pussy could milk his cock raw inside of you.
He’s immediately fisting his cock at the sight of you, focusing on the details of your figure. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head while your lovely chest heaved as you panted, your orgasm washing over you. He lets out a loud groan as ribbons of warm, white cum shot onto your stomach from the head of his cock.
You licked your lip, watching as he throws his head back while the last of his load spurts onto your abdomen. You’re still out of breath when Billy grabs a cloth from his pockets and uses it to wipe his mess off of you. You slightly lean forward to sit yourself up and he puts the cloth away, sliding his body back into your arms after doing so. His arm snakes around your waist while he pulls you into a tender kiss.
“I love you, so fuckin’ much .” he murmurs, his tired voice was deeper than his regular voice and you can’t deny the way it made your heartbeat quicken in pace.
“I love you too Billy, so damn much.” you giggled shyly from his gaze, causing him to smile at you with a look of admiration.
“You’re my girl forever Y/n.” Billy pulled his lips away and laid down beside you, you lay your head on his chest. You look up to him and he’s looking at you with the purest sense of love that glimmered in his eyes. He reaches his hand out to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
“You’re so damn pretty darlin’.” he praises, making you roll your eyes playfully.
“You’re gonna make me rot from how sweet you are Billy.” you tease and he smirks.
“What? I’m just bein’ honest.” he replies, wrapping his arm around your back and brushing his fingers against the skin, tracing circles down your spine.
“Whatever you say,” you cooed, “g’night Billy.” you yawn, closing your eyes before he replies.
“G’night my pretty girl,” he murmurs against your head, planting a kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes, “sweet dreams.”
you drift to sleep immediately and billy focuses on your heartbeat.
His mind finally finds relief however, before he could rest, he’s stuck on the conversation he overheard between your father and his stepfather on his 15th birthday.
It’d been about your family travelling to New Mexico for your family business.
The sound of your soft snores pulls him away from his thoughts and Billy holds you tighter. He’s wrapping his free arm around you to bring your naked body closer to his, scared of letting you go.
_
im dozing off now &editing this tmr hope yall enjoyed
pls reblog it will be greatly appreciated
send me requests here <3 & dont be shy :)
edit ; part three coming soon !! (if u care)
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago
Text
Baby Steps
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 23] Adjusting To Parenting
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Satoru finally doesn’t cry when he looks at his son. It only took him a month of looking at the baby to get used to it. Satoru just didn’t think he could love someone so tiny so much. To think that he’d die for someone that has been alive for a month is baffling, a year ago he wouldn’t have believed it. Satoru hates the fact that he has to work since he can’t have his baby in his arms at all times. 
Both of you are getting adjusted to parenthood– You thought it’d be harder. While it is extremely hard, you have Satoru by your side at all times, and he takes over a lot of the duties. He insists that you rest, and you always take advantage of the opportunity. While you love your baby more than anything, you find yourself more exhausted than ever. Luckily, apart from Satoru, your parents stay with you for a month, as well as Kaya.
You were cramped in the apartment for a month, your parents in the spare bedroom, Satoru staying with you in your room (which he won’t leave even after they left, and you don’t have the energy to send him back to the other room), and Kaya in the living room. While you wanted to invite Tsumiki and Megumi to meet the baby, you’ve been so busy and occupied that inviting them over would be too overwhelming. You’ve tried to ask Satoru if they can move in with you, now more than ever you cry at the thought that the two kids live by themselves, even if you know that they can take care of themselves and that Satoru checks up on them daily. 
Luckily everyone is back at their own place within a month, although it feels weird to be left alone with your baby. At first you’re absolutely terrified because you’ve had help the past month, but when you’re alone with him, you realize how calm he is. Seiji sleeps the majority of the day that sometimes you have to wake him to feed him, and to do some tummy time with him.
“Oh my sweet baby,” You coo when Seiji begins to cry during tummy time. You pick him up and cuddle him. He’s just your sleepy little baby. The absolute cutest, even if he’s looking just like his father. You smile as he yawns, “Is it time to go to bed, Seiji? Again? You don’t let me have any fun with you. Bet if it was Satoru you’d be wide awake.”
You go to his nursery, sitting in the rocking chair and rocking back and forth with your baby. One year ago you would’ve never guessed that you’d be here, rocking your baby back and forth to get him to fall asleep. Your perfect little baby. You’re nearly in tears as you think about how he’ll grow up and he’ll leave you and Satoru. He’s just falling asleep and you’re thinking about how fast he’s growing– He’s starting to lift his head, he couldn’t do that last week.
You’re also dozing off with Seiji, and before you completely fall asleep, you feel someone lift him from your arms which causes your eyes to shoot open. A wave of relief washes over you when you find Satoru. He kisses the top of your head, and smiles at you before he walks over to put Seiji in his crib.
Ever since Satoru told you he loved you, he’s become more affectionate. He tells you that he loves you almost daily because after what happened with Suguru he doesn’t want to ever risk something happening to you and you not remembering how much he cares for you. But nothing will ever happen to you, he’ll find you just in time.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Satoru says, and you shake your head as you get up from the rocking chair. You yawn but you still say,
“I’m not tired.” You walk to the kitchen to get something to eat since your stomach is also growling. Satoru follows behind you. It’s a good thing that he’s also hungry and that you have a lot of leftover food in the fridge. You feel that Satoru is more clingy than ever, even when Seiji takes most of his time. You don’t really mind it though. 
“Has he been alright?” Satoru asks and you hum in response. He follows your every step as you get some food out of the fridge. You have to stop moving to face him. You raise a brow before speaking,
“Do you need anything? If you don’t, please take a seat. I need some space.” He ends up nodding in response before walking to the dinner table and taking a seat. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“Yeah… But I can get it. Don’t worry about it.” Satoru answers. He’s just watching your every move as you heat up the food and then walk to the dinner table to eat. Instead of getting up to heat up some food, he watches you eat. You have to stop eating a minute in. You wipe your mouth with a napkin.
“Satoru, are you gonna eat? I don’t like being watched.” You tell him, and he mutters an apology. He just doesn’t know what he’s doing with himself. He stands up to get something for himself, and you continue eating. When he sits back down, you ask, “How are Tsumiki and Megumi? When are they coming around?”
“I can pick them up later.” Satoru responds. Even though you’ve been home for a month, you really haven’t done much. You have yet to meet Satoru’s parents too.
“How about… I mean we’re already sleeping in the same room, we have a spare room. How about Megumi and Tsumiki move in with us?” You suggest, and Satoru nearly chokes on his food. He hits his chest a couple of times with his fist before standing up to get himself a glass of water. Before he can even argue with the idea, you point out, “If something happened to us, you wouldn’t want Seiji to live alone, would you? Those kids are not old enough to live by themselves.”
“Why–” He begins but then he stops himself. He wonders why you suddenly care so much, when you found out you didn’t, but it hits him. He wouldn’t want Seiji to be left alone either, even if someone were to check up on him once a day. “You’re right… We’d just have to get a bigger space. There’s not enough space for five of us.”
“Right.” You answer. Once Satoru chugs the water, he rinses the glass then walks over to the table once again to continue eating. As much as he loves hearing your voice, he wants you to stop talking when you nearly make him choke again when you bring up, “And your parents. When are Seiji and I meeting them?”
He has to get himself another glass of water. When the glass is empty and rinsed again, he answers, “I’ll get in contact with them and try to set up a dinner in a week or so.”
“What do they like to eat?” You ask, and he shrugs in response.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll probably set it up at a restaurant or I can arrange it in the estate. We have enough with Seiji, don’t worry about some dinner for my parents.” Satoru says, and you slowly nod. You haven’t quite grasped the fact that Satoru is a sorcerer– And he’s completely loaded. You’re still completely lost, and with everything, he hasn’t gotten the chance to properly explain, or well, show you what it all means. You’re not quite sure if you want to know what it means. 
“Can we set the dinner up here?” You question, and he raises his eyebrows. He’s not sure why you’d offer to cook, for as long as he’s known you (which isn’t very long if he’s being honest) you haven’t been the type to cook much. It just catches Satoru off guard that you’d offer to cook.
“I don’t think that’s a smart idea.” Satoru comments, which makes you purse your lips. “If you’re worried about Seiji in a restaurant, we can always go to my parents.”
“I can just cook, Satoru.” Your tone is rather defensive when you speak. He decides that he’ll drop the subject since you’re upset. He doesn’t want to worsen your mood by telling you how difficult his parents are. You both finish eating in silence.
“I’ll go pick up the kids.” Satoru says when he’s finished eating, bringing his dishes to the sink. He walks over to you and kisses your forehead, “I’ll be back really fast.”
“Okay.” You answer, trying your best to smile. It feels so hard to smile lately, the only person you smile at is your baby. You’re just so overwhelmed lately that a smile feels like too much.
-
You hear the front door open and you rush out of your room to greet the kids. You hug both Megumi and Tsumiki. It feels like forever since you last saw them, but they’re still welcoming. Before you can ask them if they want to meet Seiji, you hear crying from the nursery.
“I got it.” Satoru says, running to the nursery to get him. You focus on Megumi and Tsumiki.
“Do you two want something sweet? Satoru bought some cookies yesterday.” You tell them, and they nod in response. You walk to the kitchen to get the treat. “How are you two? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
They begin to tell you about their lives and how they’re doing. It’s mostly just school which doesn’t surprise you. You give them the cookies, and they thank you. You walk to the couch to take a seat, and just as you’re about to feel the cushion, you hear a yell from the nursery.
You rush to the room, your heart nearly beating out of your chest. And that’s when you find Satoru– A very nasty scene that almost makes you puke. Only thing you note is that Satoru’s white undershirt is now brown.
“What happened?” You ask.
“I was changing his diaper and–” Satoru is in utter disbelief. He has to shut his eyes and take a deep breath. Right when he doesn’t have his infinity on. “He had to go potty. And for some reason it’s– We have to go to the pediatrician, that shit is not normal.”
“I talked to her about it, don’t worry.” You inform him. You have to look away because the sight is too much. “Go shower, I’ll take care of him.”
“Good.” Satoru rushes past you and you go to Seiji. You clean him up before you give him a bath. You boop his nose, smiling at him before you put on a baby voice.
“Good job, baby.” You pick him up from the changing table, wrapping a towel around him before you go to the empty bathroom and put him in the water. It’s risky to hold him while you wait for the water to be just at the right temperature, but you’re not putting him in a diaper just when he’s about to get a bath.
Megumi comes running to the bathroom, and Tsumiki walks behind him. They stand in the door frame as you put your baby into the bath, kneeling down to bathe him. The younger of the two asks “What are you doing?”
“Giving baby Seiji a bath. He had a little accident on ‘Toru.” You inform him, and Megumi tilts his head. Both kids are curious as to what happened, but only Megumi is bold enough to ask.
“What happened?”
“Seiji had to go potty while Satoru was changing his diaper.” You inform them, and it causes Megumi to burst out laughing. Tsumiki doesn’t find it quite as funny, but she does chuckle. You also have to hold back from laughing, although the scene was horrific. “Now, don’t laugh at Satoru. He already feels shitty enough.”
It causes the kids to laugh, and you join them. 
-
After Seiji’s bath, the kids are able to meet the baby properly. The baby looks as cute as ever in a onesie that has a carrot print all over. He’s just the cutest little human but of course, you’re biased since you’re his mother. When Megumi and Tsumiki are seated on the couch, you let each one hold the baby for a minute– Well, Satoru does because even though his baby did the most horrible thing imaginable, Satoru picks him up and holds him.
“He’s so cute!” Tsumiki exclaims. You hum in agreement. Megumi shrugs.
“Guess he is.”
“Aw, are you jealous, Megs?” Satoru teases, holding back a smirk. Before Megumi can begin to argue, you cut in because you’re not really in the mood to hear them bicker.
“What do you two think about moving in with us?” You ask. You have to ask the question eventually, and each second that they’re alone makes you feel guiltier and guiltier. You were already soft while pregnant, and ever since you’ve had Seiji, you’ve become completely weak. You can’t help but have a guilty conscience when you know that two kids are alone in such a dangerous world, and you have the possibility to protect them.
“That’s something we should discuss further.” Satoru mutters, but you’re not really listening.
“We have a spare room that you can take– You two would share rooms for a bit though.” You tell them, completely disregarding Satoru but they’re not sure how to respond. Of course they want to move in but… They’re just speechless. “You can take your time deciding, that room is always available.”
Seiji begins to cry, and you know better than anyone what it means. You pick him up from Satoru’s arms and you go to the nursery to feed him. It’s exhausting to do this every three hours– Satoru has tried to help with leftover breastmilk, but Seiji won’t latch on unless it’s direct from the source. 
You might be extremely tired, but he’s just so perfect. You love him more than anything and you’ll do anything for him. Your solo moment with your baby doesn’t last long though, Satoru doesn’t waste time joining you two.
“The kids are joining us. They’ll move in next week.” Satoru informs you. He watches your baby, which is kind of awkward, but you don’t say anything. He kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him. “Thank you.”
“For what?” You ask.
“For him. He’s so perfect.”
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astropookie · 1 year ago
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astro thoughts 🏇🌈✨💫🍳
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH ❤️ even though it’s almost July
disclaimer: I didn’t check my orthography
i hate it but what’s trying to tell me the universe. my friend reminds me of my mom 😭 kill me pls. she have sun 11H, she worries a lot about how others understand what she saids, what others may think of her. she wants to be peaceful but at the same time she have moon in scorpio so she’s struggling and she have a certain opinion about others based on the first impression or what made more impact -negative? idk. now I feel judge -I think it’s my anxiety-. Update: i said what was bothering me to her and everything is said, I’m proud of me, I’m in peace, she responded in a understanding manner. I can breath.
the degree of your ascendant says ALOT, not only about the physical appearance. it could point out even your career, how’s focused your life, how you react…now that I think about it, it’s like an ascendant in your ascendant pc (but if it confused you ignore it).
for example, my friend have gemini degree in his ascendant, he’s doing his major in communication, his family is full of artists and specially musicians, so he grew up knowing how to play every music instrument, it’s like breathing to him, music. he’s used to it and he express himself by composing and being curious, wanting to know about this and that. other example: my other friend has a gemini rising but I was thinking “there’s something that’s missing” 👀 the leo degree of course. he be slayyiing💅 he’s sassy. he knows what he wants and people always be wanting him not the other way around 🙄 he’s like purr stunning gurl 💋
the same friend told me the other day that his first impression of me was or exactly what he thought: “you don’t want to mess with her” “I wouldn’t mess with her ever”. he told me I remembered him of maddy of euphoria -I gave him the idea bc I didn’t understand and he agreed-. Ascendant - Saturn aspects make you look like a bad bitch, like they’ll kick your ass if you don’t do what they tell you, THEY ARE. The structure of their face is also bony. They look like they’re mad, like they’re on their way and if you step there you’re dead: karmic. The jawline, omg, is sharp, it could cut you.
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Also, bc Capricorn is ruled by Saturn, Capricorn ascendants and saturn-ascendant aspects share characteristics but are not the same? Capricorn risings have this cheekbones that are so sensual and even if they age, the cheekbones are still there, what you notice first is that. What they share is the intimidating aura strangers perceive. In different levels or forms I believe.
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Dakota Johnson Gisele Bündchen
TWO QUEENS THAT I CANT FINISH TO DESCRIBE HOW THEIRE SO ETHEREAL BEAUTIFUL STUNNING ICONIC AND INFINITE THINGS MORE
I have Mars in Retrograde. I don’t know what bothers me until I explode or until I go to my psychologist. I minimize what bothers me and save it all in the back, so then my brain will hurt. I don’t figure out or notice when something bothers me bc I don’t think is a big deal or that’s a joke, but even if it’s a joke I can still not like it -a side note-. You’ll find me realizing later what was bothering me and then struggling to tell people how I really felt when they did THAT something.
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Picture from Pinterest
when the kid’s mercury is sextile Saturn’s dad (synastry: mercury sextile saturn), it means the dad communicates with their child as a way of teaching, caring about them. through their communication, they share childhood stories, experiences of any type and what they have learned about them, what they have observed. trough their talking they share their wisdom. the father have all the attention of their kid when he opens his mouth. the kid somehow knows something important is about to be said or they admires their dad that much.
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Picture from Pinterest
Leo moons 5H + aries degree can be pretty egoist, they could lost themselves in the idea of something, of having it. Also they don’t think, twice letting themselves be carried by the emotion that idea gives them. They’re in their pretty little world of fun but they are not looking what’s happening to others, they’re hungry for their passion. I HAVE TO TELL: not everyone with these placements are like this and blablabla -the same thing I say for precaution- AND I had something, it’s not even something 🙄 I had nothing with these placement k? but it gives you an explanation for my attitude. STILL, I think I gotta mention some of the synastry so it’ll make sense. In another time bc I don’t want to waste my energy in that -and don’t want to-.
Saturn in opposition with Uranus aspect makes the individual stay in the doubt. They’re stanched while they keep analyzing the pro and cons of the situation they want to start/be part. Even if someone extern try to help, they’ll be doubting more.
Virgo moons are just so wholesome ☹️❤️ They want to help. they’re always doing something. they want the best for you. they care of others as if they take care of themselves but better, sadly. they work too much they need a rest but they know they’ll be anxious of doing nothing. they’re just pure souls. they’re so kind. always helping in a ONG/organization that helps needed ones.
Aquarius mercury always have something to say, they’re always right 🙄 even though they say it’s comprensible and natural that everyone have their own beliefs I don’t believe them. I think they think their mindset is better and everyone should follow it. LIKE GURL WTF I know you think you are wise and shit and you’ve passed through experiences that made you learned and that inspired you to tell them to others BUT let others make mistakes and be wrong, let others don’t be like you, there’s the beauty. I always find them criticizing others for their manners, as if they have lived the same way you did.
I don’t believe/trust? in libras, yeah ok may be that my sun is in libra but not my whole chart. That’s what I’m talking about, with that last sentence I’m gaslighting you 💌 how tf you believe in libras when they don’t tell the truth directly I CANT. With my honesty I gotta mention that my libra sun appear when I don’t want to ruin something that benefits me, when I don’t know the person and I try my best, to my sag/scorpio/aquarius placements to not appear. They always keep something in their minds, they don’t tell you all, they keep to themselves some part, could be to not hurt you, doesn’t benefits them or whatever. a friend with moon in libra degree and another with libra moon: I always want them to say what they want, they can’t. I want to squish the hell out of them bc I can’t too😭🔪
Ceres 3H is a good placement for a psychologist. How they motivate others using their minds, that easily absorbs and process/analyses experiences and knowledge, to finally find a solution depending on the case -of the patient-, so it’ll be suitable. When they help others, their communication keeps improving with time. More experience = better. Still, it’s natural.
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❀ Based on my personal experience.
❀ English is not my first language.
❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer.
Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋
Do not copy. Please give me credits.
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violerrs · 8 days ago
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— Lost In The Shadow ❞
PROLOGUE | REFLECTION OF THE FUTURE
masterlist • next
BATFAM X DAUGHTER!ZEN'IN!READER X JUJUTSU KAISEN
SYPNOPSIS; living as Bruce Wayne daughter already hard enough. it's more harder when you're one of Zen'in survivor and the only jujutsu sorcerer in the family full of Vigilantes
WARNING; ooc, major plot spoiler(?), mention of deaths
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So What Changed? someone asks as your eyes flutter open to find a source of a light but only the gaze of darkness welcomes you coldly. your body trembles as you fall into the coldness, you remember barely. loved ones, your teams, your family, your father. everything has changed when you were left in his care. you were just a sad, vulnerable, helpless and hopeless girl back then when you first met your biological father after the demise of your stepfather. a girl who blamed herself for Papa’s death and her Mother's departure.
Everything Changed the moment you set foot in Gotham City, and into Bruce Wayne’s life. you become something great so he will be proud of you at first, but he's a man with high expectations. He Never Been Satisfied you tell yourself that everytime you look at him. Do You Hate Him Though? you hated that he didn't do anything when your brothers died, you hated him when you ‘fell'. but somehow you are still longing for his proud words and affection, maybe you still are the kid from years ago. So Do You Hate Him? you wondered Yes No No No Yes? Maybe So. your relationship with him is always strained and strange to say.
there's a time when you finally realized that life isn't just for you. You were only 11 when you made your own Vigilante persona, Eclipse. helping with nights full of crime in Richard’s era as Robin alongside Batgirl and Batman. Yet, crime fighting at night doesn’t suit your style, you don’t have a hero complex nor are you normal, you don’t care about others' lives. that’s what you've been telling yourself, What Makes You Different From The Rest? you value your own lives and ego over the thoughts of others; you know your limit and know when to stop at the boundaries you set. You’re A Coward Admit It. coward? That's what that little Demon called you, maybe the others thought so too, but he is not wrong. when you can become something great you choose to flee, stay hidden like a shadow you are. How Disappointing.
[Name] Wayne the first born and the bastard daughter, how you are famous. By name you are Wayne but by blood you are Zen'in, nothing good will come from someone named Zen’in, it's bad luck, you learn as you grow and deep in your heart you never really be accepted as a Wayne. In The End You Keep The Name Huh? By The Blood We Are The Same, If Gods Entitled You As A Devil, By Name And Blood I Shall Be The Devil If That's What They Call.
abruptly you thought of the family you once considered the closest, Alferd, Richard, Barbara, Jason.. once they used to be your rock and support but as you and they grow older the bond is slightly restrained by time. Alferd Pennyworth was the first to help you adjust in the big ol mansion belonging to your father, he helps you learn English in your first months once he knows you can't speak to communicate because your first language was Japanese. Even after years he still is the person you hold onto your heart, but as you grow the feeling of being a rebellious teenager makes you quite a trouble. one time you sneak out patrol alone and almost killed some bastard that tried to sexual assault a young girl, using your shikigami. Bruce takes a glimpse of your absence in the Batcave, he follows and took action before Divine Dogs actually manage to rip his fital apart killed him, and by exchange Batman drags you to the batcave after a talk with commissioner. In addition you get a handful of lectures and are threatened warned that he could and he would discharge(for lack of better term; fired) you from the vigilante life if this ever happens again. Furthermore you were not having it, was it wrong to do something right? you dig further before, that man was a fugitive for trying to blow one of hospitals out of curiosity if Batman-will-come-to-the-rescue in Gotham city, and you happen to find him in such a position with a girl your age, young and hopeless.
Maybe it was your responsibility to protect people or maybe it was rage seeing a young girl like you getting assaulted by no-good-guy, and without warning the shikigami came out and attacked. Bruce walks out on you when you tries to explain, and you stood there watching as he disappeares into the batmobile and droves off. and at that time you starts to question your own reasons to become Eclipse, was it to impress him? or do you genuinely want to help people? the next thing Alferd came and pushed you away from the thought offered home cooking he prepared when Bruce took off to look out for you hours ago. he cooks your favorite and assured you that your Father will not discharge you anytime soon, he didn't mention about the killing though but he must be aware of it. He’s Always A More Family Than Anyone Could Even More Than Them.
Richard Grayson was next, both of you could hardly communicate at first due to language barrier. He often comes just to mess around and play with you when he's not busy, you learned about your family identity from him accidentally. You caught him climbing into his room’s balcony and you unintentionally happened to pass by and saw his room was not locked and peeked. Alferd has to explain to you about the Batman and Robin duo fighting into the night. you were filled with amazement when you learn how cool that is and you decide you want to be like Robin, maybe your ability to summon shikigami finally comes to an use you thought.
the older he gets he spends less time at manor, especially he has his own brand team now by the time you're 10. and busy as he is, he forgot to answer your calls and by the time you also forgot to answer him out of spite. you can be petty too despite you’re a calm person, but you’re a child nonetheless. and when you're lonely there will be a cursed rabbit accompanying you, but sometimes you wish Richard was here too.
Barbara Gordon was the Batgirl when you first started, she was the person you asked to train you when Robin was not around since she was the only female vigilante you knew (actual reason; you just didn't want to asked Batman with your train) she skeptical at first, how can she train a lateral ten year old rookie vigilante? and over time your constant demand makes her annoyed then give up. you start helping her from the shadow, backing her up like you did to your father. Batgirl only noticed something when she turned around and saw everything was finished leaving only the after match of a fight. odd, she didn't believe in ghosts, no. but she heard you talk with Batman about curses and so she confronted you then you actually told her about your origin.
a gifted child with an ability to manipulate Ten Shikigami from a long fallen clan back in Japan, cool right. But You Are Not Gifted, You Are Cursed Till The Very End, At Least You Didn't Tell Her That.
Jason Tood was more of a goofy and annoying little brother, you saw him from the first time he was taken into the manor he was only tweleve when you are not much older than him so you both click in no time. you had the bond no one ever has, not even Richard and Babs. you actually helped in training him into Robin, to mess with Bruce you taught him skill your mother taught you a brash fighting style, of course it gives him a headache. wherever you go there's Jason and likewise, you're in the library? he’s there reading with you in silence, Jason got in trouble? you there to get him out, Both of you were kidnaped? you will fight for each other's life. Everything Was So Perfect For Both Of Us, then you decide to go aboard to Tokyo Jujutsu High, he dies and is revived. you never had time to reconcile, you and him never had time. you never got to explain why you didn't avenge him, and he never had time for your excuse. It's End There Like IT'S NOTHING.
and for that all the time you remembered with someone you used to know, not so happy is it. you wondered, why human intent to remember bad memories? brain tends to remember threats to ensure one's survival, you once read an article. Do You Regret Anything? you are not the best people in the world, one time you felt regret and next you just forgive and forget about them. As Much As You Wanted To Say You Had No Regrets You Do Have Regret.
The Truth Is, It's That I Never Been A Good Daughter, Sister, Family To Them.
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A/N; AAAAA FINALLY I HAVE TIME TO WRITE AGAIN, honestly school sucks exam even more ass, i got cooked by math lol. thank you for waiting(if anyone still waiting) i would like to apologize for late late update, i should've update in like a week but yk.
this is the prologue, after i upload this i'll make the Masterlist so it won't be too confusing. but srsly never thought people will read this tbh cuz im very moody person and can disappear anytime(srry)
that's all for now!
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chikuros · 6 months ago
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The Sanguine Margin
;༊ Reader is a Scarabia student. Reader is a merfolk. Reader loves astronomy.
;༊ Jamil Viper x Reader
;༊ Overblot aftermath…
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Passing the wide desert in a flash was not something I had on my wishlist after stepping my feet in the upside world. Nor did I ever want to be thrown miles away by the hands of those who held me tightly every passing night. 
My Mirzam, who should’ve outshined every star there is in the solar system, but was never given the chance.
Who would’ve thought that skipping one day of stargazing would overwhelm me this much. I wonder if it’s the wound on my foot or my heart speaking. I also wonder if what I miss is scanning the stars or that fluttering feeling I always get after hearing your laugh. 
I have admired the stars for as long as I remember. I longed to see the stars and reach them more than anyone. I even sneaked to my father's study when I was a kid just to find one page regarding the Canis Major, despite how obedient I was back then. I sneaked to the personal room of my dorm’s vice-prefect knowing that I'll get in serious trouble, just to have the best view of the night sky. Was it worth the trouble? Yes. Did the night sky fulfil my expectations I had for them? No, I don’t know. When having you by my side, it feels like even blinking would’ve been a waste. 
When the time comes for the sun to come up, I would still put on the fragile mask of a sane girl who bears no weight on her shoulders. I would still go to class, sit on the table behind you, and pretend that I didn’t hear you tell me “I'll give you the world” just some passing hours ago. 
You know me. You know me so well that there’s no more point to us having to go through that get-to-know each other phase. You know me too well to the point where you’d always give me what I never even knew I wanted. But there was one thing you didn’t, and never intended to give me. 
Say, Mirzam. Will I continue on living and just let this feeling linger in the back of my hand? Will I have to eventually let loose of my tight grip on you and us? Will I have to do all that without even knowing what your true desires are? 
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