#the urge to understand him the way a character wants to be understood

[zu-is-here]

broken

[1/16] horrortalecomic by sourapplestudios

[munsonsmixtapes]

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak?

scarer!Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: you go to a fright night with your friends and can’t help be attracted to one of the scarers who passes by, and when your friends let you know just how weirded out they are by your acquired taste, he steps in and lets you know just how badly he wants to fuck you. If only there was a way to properly thank him for defending you. 

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) oral (m receiving) hair pulling, kinks (mask, breeding) sub!Eddie, dom!reader, reader's friends are bullies

Based on this request and this request!

part two

The place was bustling when you and your friends entered it. It had been a tradition for the four of you to go every year, but the difference was that this year you were going to fuck one of the workers. There was just something about the whole thing that sounded exciting to you, and bonus points if it happened in one of the haunted houses.

You surveyed the place, on the hunt for the person you were going to pick out, hoping that they would agree, but totally understood if they didn't since it was a pretty odd request. You were sure that they didn’t get asked that very often, but you were still feeling pretty confident in yourself. 

Your friend Aria looped her arm through yours as the two of you walked. You were easily closer to her than you were to the others but like the others, she also didn’t understand your whole obsession with or your attraction to all of the employees in their scary costumes, and you didn’t understand why she thought it was so weird. 

A worker slid through the walkway and Aria made sure to push you out of the way so neither of you had gotten in the way. And the man stopped right in the center, giving you a great view of the profile of his mask. And in that moment, you decided that he was the one. 

Aria let out a shriek from beside you and the worker whipped around, turning to face you, and while you were resisting the urge to twirl your hair in a flirtatious manner, your friend was practically shaking like a leaf. 

She stepped behind you and the man turned to you, his face dangerously close to yours. You stared him down, taking in the features of his mask. It looked like plastic and you hadn’t recognized it from anywhere so you figured it had been a random mask that was just supposed to be scary. And it was with the eyes that were a cloudy white and the bloody smile that had far too many teeth in its smile. 

But that didn’t matter anyway. You were attracted to the way he moved, the confidence that exuded from him, the way he inched closer that your faces were so close that you could just lean in and-no-you couldn’t do that, especially when he was on the clock. Instead, you looked down at his outfit. It consisted of a pair of tight jeans, a baggy band t-shirt, and a jean jacket that had a bunch of pins and patches of some of your favorite bands. He really was the whole package. 

You looked back up at him, his hair catching your eye. It was dark brown and curly, perfectly achieving the effortlessly messy look that you knew was hard to accomplish. It also looked so soft and you wanted to run your hands through it to see it felt as good as it looked. It would have nice to hold onto while he-

Your hand reached up and you pushed Aria further behind you as you stared the stranger down. So many thoughts, all of them impure. Why did you have to be the freak amongst your friends? Why couldn’t you have just found these characters scary like they did? Why were you so attracted to the man in front of you? 

“Better be careful,” he told you and just the husky sound of his voice was making you feel things. “Wouldn’t want your friend to get hurt while I’m sliding through.” He was stepping closer and you only backed up so you wouldn’t do something you have regretted. If you had had it your way, you would have taken him right there, pulling him into the nearest space where you could have had some privacy. 

Jesus, you really needed to chill out. It wasn’t like you would have actually had the guts to ask him. It was all just something that would live in your head. All just a fantasy that would never see the light of day. 

“She won’t,” you replied, stepping closer to the man. “I’ll protect her.”

“Good,” he nodded. “Enjoy your evening.” And with that, he turned on his heel and slid across the way to scare another group. You were definitely going to enjoy your evening if you kept thinking about him. 

Aria moved from behind you and for a second, you almost forgot that she was even there, your mind still on the stranger. She looped her arm through yours once again and tried to keep herself composed. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. “That guy was a freak.” Yeah, he was. And now you were beginning to wonder if he was a freak in the sheets as well. 

“I’m good. I think I need to go to the bathroom, though,” you told her, not exactly wanting to say why. You were sure that she’d figure it out anyway. 

“Jesus, you were turned on by that?” She was looking at you with a grimace as her voice raised a bit too loudly for your liking. You didn’t need everyone to know about your kinks. 

“Not so loud,” you moved to stand in front of her. “And yeah, I was. What’s so wrong with that?” You shrugged, watching her nose scrunch up in disgust. 

“So much,” Aria shook her head. “He was wearing a mask, y/n,” she pointed out as if you didn’t already know that. 

“Hence the bases of the appeal,” you rolled your eyes. What part was she not understanding?

“So you want to fuck the man wearing the mask that’s going to me my sleep paralysis demon for the next week? I’ll never understand you.” She was shaking her head in disgust and you didn’t like the way she always made comments on how weird or disturbing she thought your taste in men was. You would have never done that to her if the roles were reversed. 

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes again. “Why don’t you stop kink shaming me and we can go find the others.” 

You pulled her along and found the others in your group by the first house you were going to go into. You hadn’t even been paying attention to what they were saying as the same man slid past the four of you, immediately catching your eye. You stared, your thoughts getting even more impure by the second. 

“Jesus, she’s at it again,” Addison teased, but you ignored her. God, you really needed to get better friends. 

“You really think one of these guys will fuck you?”

“Yeah, you’re not a teenager anymore, y/n,” Claire added, crossing her arms over her chest. “And we came out here to have fun, not to watch you lust over all these weird creatures. And I bet the workers are uncomfortable with it too.” 

Your couldn’t believe it. They were all actually against you. How long had they felt that way and why were they being so mean? It wasn’t like you had vocalized it that many times and you weren’t actually going to fuck any of them anyway. And you supposed you couldn’t do it now that you were thoroughly embarrassed. 

“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” you heard a voice and whipped around to see the man from earlier. He was approaching the four of you and the three girls backed up, leaving you to stand in front of him. “But I just wanted to say that I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. In fact, I’d be honored. A woman as beautiful as you? Shit, I’d be so down.” 

You blinked a few times, your brain taking a minute to register what was going on. Could it be true? Or was he just saying that to make you feel better? Probably the latter. That seemed more plausible. 

“You-what?” You stuttered, entirely unsure how to go about the situation now. You turned your back and sure enough, your friends had left, leaving the two of you alone. 

“I’m serious,” he nodded. “And fuck your friends. They’re just upset that they can’t match your freak. Which, I totally could, by the way. I’m into anything.” 

Was this really happening? Was the man you had been thirsting over for the past twenty minutes actually offering to have sex with you? It all definitely had to be some sort of surreal dream…right? 

“If you’re up for it, we can meet right here after closing and see where the night takes us.” 

“They’re not here anymore so you can quit the act,” you turned on your heel to leave, but he slid right in front of you to stop you from leaving, taking your hands in his. 

“Oh, but it’s not an act. I swear,” he brought your hands up to his mask, mimicking a kiss. ”I’ll be right here, but if you don’t come, I understand.” Oh, you were coming, and in more ways than one. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he nodded as he stood up, putting his fingerless glove out for you to shake. “I’m Eddie, by the way.” You were unsure whether or not that was his real name or a fake one, but you were going to go with it either way. 

“Y/n,” you replied and Eddie nodded. Y/n. He thought it suited you, and because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for five seconds, he couldn’t help but think about how much he was looking forward to moaning it. 

The rest of your night was spent alone as you went through all of the houses you could, not even thinking about what was occurring in each one, not even reacting to all of the scarers trying to get to you. The only thing that was going on in your head was the man in the mask and all of the things you were going to get up to after the event closed for the night. 

And unbeknownst to you, Eddie was thinking the same thing. Sure, he could get laid on his own, but it was definitely not as easy when he was wearing the mask. So the fact that you were so attracted to him while he had it on was doing things to him. He was so turned on that he didn’t know what to do with himself, eventually having to wrap his jacket around his front to prevent anyone from seeing his massive hard-on. 

And as the end of the night came to a close with everyone leaving, he was getting progressively more hard as he thought about what you would have looked like underneath you as he fucked you absolutely senseless until you couldn’t walk. And he couldn’t help but think about what you were going to sound like when you moaned or whined, god the whining was going to kill him. 

He was so close to hunting you down and having his way with you right then and there, not giving a single fuck about who was watching. He could feel his mouth watering at the idea of burying his face into your cunt, eating you out so well, licking and sucking a letting his teeth scrape across it, the movements continuing and getting more rough until your thighs were pressed against the side of his head, practically crushing it as moan after moan poured from your mouth. 

And just as he was about to go find you, there you were, right in front of him, looking like you were about to jump his bones right there. And he wanted you to, to push him up against the nearest object and-

“There you are,” you spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned around to face you and his face lit up at the sight of you despite you not being able to see it. And seeing you there, your bright smile playing on your lips just made him think about how badly he wanted to have them wrapped around his-

“Here I am,” you nodded at him as you stepped forward, standing right in front of him. The entire place was empty as the guests and other employees had left, leaving the two of you alone. And for once, Eddie was so happy that he had been the one in charge of locking up that night so he could have stayed there with you as long as you wanted. 

“So, should we head out to my car?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. 

“Actually,” you stepped even closer, coming toe to toe with him as you grabbed onto his hand. “I was thinking maybe we could go into one of the houses. 

“Well, shit, alright,” he let out a chuckle as he resisted the urge to look at your joined hands. Yours was soft and feeling his fingers against his made him wonder what they would have felt like in his mouth as he sucked on them. God, he was so horny that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

He reached up to take off his mask, wanting to take it off after a long day of work and feeling the need to see you with his actual eyes, not through the eyes of the mask that always made things look just a little distorted. But you had stopped him, your hands resting on top of his. 

“No, leave it on,” you instructed and Eddie wouldn’t dare argue. Shit, had he finally found someone who had matched his freak? He thought he might have. 

“So, you’re really going to fuck me without knowing what I look like?” Of course you were. It wouldn’t have been the first time you had done so, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged. “The mask is hot.” He loved how you were so unapologetic about your interests, how you had even defended yourself to your friends about your acquired taste. 

“Really?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows even though you couldn’t see him. Perhaps you were even more of a freak than he was, and he thought that was hard to do. He was the freakiest person he had known, both in personality and in the bedroom, but maybe, maybe you had him beat. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Really. And I bet you’re hot too.” People had told him so on occasion, and he thought so too, but sometimes the trauma of living in Hawkins crept up on him on occasion. But clearly he had won since the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing right in front of him, wanting to fuck his brains out. And there was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to decline. 

“Well,” he shrugged. “So what house were you thinking?” He turned his head left and right, taking in all the options. 

“This one,” you pointed to the one you were standing right next to. Eddie was a little surprised that you had chosen the one that had to have been the scariest one in the entire park, but he supposed that he shouldn’t have been considering that you had been attracted to his scary mask. 

“And there’s that hay stack so we won’t be completely on the floor.” You held your hand out for Eddie and he took it gratefully, grinning from ear to ear and he was grateful that you couldn’t see the pink that was staining his cheeks as you led him inside. The whole thing was dark when you had opened the door and that made the experience all the more exciting. 

You turned on your phone flashlight continued to lead him further into the house, not missing how his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, whether it was to protect you or just an excuse to hold you close, you didn’t know, but either way, you leaned into him, feeling his rock hard cock brush against your ass as you did so. You whipped around and turned to face him with a devilish grin appearing on your pretty lips. 

“Already hard for me, aren’t you, Eddie?” You asked, your hand moving to cup his cock, pressing your hand against it while giving it a little squeeze. He let out an involuntary moan fell from his lips making you grin even more. “Do you need me to take care of you?” You asked and he nodded furiously, needing it so badly that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

You backed him against the nearest wall so he had something to lean against before you pressed your lips to his mask, letting your tongue glide across it, making Eddie even more hard as he watched you. As your tongue was busy, you unzipped his pants, pushing them down so that they fell to his feet, his underwear following as his rock hard cock sprang free. 

“Look at you, already ready for me,” you said as you got down on your knees, wrapping your hand around the base while your tongue swiped along the tip licking up the cum that had leaked from it which caused Eddie to gasp as he pressed his hands against the wall, desperate for something to hold onto.

 “Relax baby,” you cooed. “Let me take care of you, hm?” You took him into his mouth and began to suck on him, looking up at him even though you couldn’t see his face because of his mask, but you could just tell the kind of face he was making with his eyes shut tight, his mouth falling up as the hottest moans came from it. 

You continued to suck as your tongue swiped across the head, your other hand moving to his thigh where you squeezed like it was your own personal stress ball. His hands moved to your hair, threading through it and giving it a tug when you did something he particularly liked. He’d been sucked off before, but never like that, never so well that the whole thing made him weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” he whined. “So good.” You continued to suck and hearing his moans was all you needed to continue, but you decided that it was time to switch things up. You removed him from your mouth and looked up at him with a pleading look and Eddie decided that he was going to whatever you asked.

“Fuck my mouth,” you commanded and Eddie tilted his head to the side as confusion washed over him.

“Fuck your mouth?” He had only done it one time before and he hadn’t liked it, but maybe this time would be different. 

“Yes, Eddie, fuck my mouth. Please,” you begged and he shrugged, hypnotized by the look in your eyes, the way your mouth formed the words. Without a word, he grabbed onto the back of your head and brought his dick to your lips, watching you open up as he slid inside, his cock pumping in and out of your mouth, feeling your lips wrap around him, sucking him off every time he got far enough inside. Moan after moan fell from his lips as he progressively fit more of himself into your mouth, addicted to the feeling. 

This had been entirely different than the first time. 

This time, he had known what he was doing and you seemed to enjoy the whole thing, your eyes closed in absolute bliss as you sucked him off, your own moans falling from your lips. And when he was able to fit all of himself inside you, your nose brushing the patch of hair above his cock, your eyes watering as the head hit the back of your throat, he was convinced he hadn’t seen anything so hot in his life. 

His hands tugged on your hair as he came, the loudest moans leaving his mouth as his head was thrown back, leaning forward so it didn’t hit the wall. You opened your eyes just in time to see him do it, the stubble along the part of his jaw that you could see caught your eye and you immediately thought about you how wanted to feel it prickle against your lips as you sucked on the spot. 

You felt cum leak out onto the back of your tongue and you pulled him from you before swallowing, watching him come down from his orgasm before he grabbed onto your arms to help you to your feet. 

“Swear to god that was the best head of my life.” With any other guy you would have thought that was line, but with Eddie, you didn’t know why, but you believed him. It had to be true with the way he had reacted to the whole thing. “Now it’s only fair if I repay you for being so generous.”

“No, baby, tonight’s about you,” you shook your head. “I have to repay you for defending me somehow.” 

“But-“

“No,” you cut him off, covering the mouth of his mask with your hand as you looked into the white eyes, wondering how the hell he could see through them. “You just stay and enjoy, okay? Let me thank you.” 

Eddie just nodded as he stayed against the wall, watching you step away from him as you unzipped your jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you, revealing the black corset that you were wearing. 

The panels of it were made of a thin lace, leaving practically nothing up to the imagination and Eddie couldn’t believe that, in a way, you had worn it for him. He had overheard you talking with your friends, telling them that you had intended on fucking one of the scarers and he was still kind of in shock that he had been the one you had chosen. Sure, he had offered, but that didn’t mean that you had to agree. 

Your hands moved down your body slowly as they traveled down to your skirt, unzipping the side and letting it pool at your feet before kicking it to the side. You then removed your shoes, followed by your tights, leaving you in just your top and the pretty underwear that matched. And Eddie was convinced that he had died and gone to heaven as he stared at you. 

You grabbed onto his hands and moved them to rest on your back, putting on the most flirty face you could muster. 

“Thought I’d let you do the honors of doing the rest of the undressing,” you bat your lashes and Eddie stayed silent, nodding enthusiastically at the idea. He undid the clasps while maintaining eye contact with you. He had unclasped more bras than he could count so the mechanism was very familiar to him. 

He did it slowly, one by one, watching the thing get more loose until he got to the last one, watching it fall to the floor between the two of you. He then brought his gaze back up to your bare chest, feeling his cock getting harder as he took in your naked top half. Fuck, you were beautiful, angelic. 

“Jesus christ,” he groaned, feeling his cock twitch. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“No, that’s you, handsome,” you winked and he wondered how he had found someone more smooth, more flirty than he was. “Now the panties,” you nodded your head towards the pair you were wearing and Eddie’s hands traveled down your waist, tucking his fingers into your waistband, slowly pulling your panties down your legs, getting lower as they moved down south, getting a look at how wet you were as he did so, seeing it running down your legs.

 If he hadn’t been so shy, he would have cleaned you up with his mouth before draping your legs over his shoulders and eaten you out for hours on end, showing you just how hot he thought you were with just his mouth. 

Once the panties were removed, he stood to his feet with one of the leg holes looped over his pointer finger, holding them out to you. 

“Keep them,” you told him. “Something to remember the night by.” 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I need your panties to help me remember what happened tonight,” he chuckled. 

“Keep them anyway.” He let them drop from his finger onto the floor then looked back up at you for further instruction. 

“Now it’s your turn,” you told him. “Shirt off.” Without hesitation, Eddie’s shirt was off and on the floor next to your panties. You stared at his upper body, eyes running over his tattoos, thinking about how much you wanted to run your tongue along them. And you were beginning to think that maybe you would. If he was a good boy, of course. Had to make him sing for his supper. 

“Now the rest of it.” First were his boots and socks that were discarded quickly then tossed to the side, followed by his pants then boxers that ended up in the pile with the rest of his clothes. 

Your eyes raked over his body and couldn’t help but stare, feeling wet as you took in his cock, thinking about how badly you wanted him inside of you, about how you didn’t want to use a condom, about how you wouldn’t have been upset if you had wound up pregnant.

“Lie down,” you told him and he was quick to obey, lying down on the floor, his long hair splayed out around his head. “I don’t want to use a condom. I-I’m kind of turned on by getting pregnant by you.” You were suddenly feeling shy, looking down to hide how much your cheeks were burning. But Eddie grabbed onto your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t even know what I look like and have decided that you want to have my baby?” He asked, wanting to make sure he was hearing correctly, feeling himself getting even more hard as he thought about it, imagining your stomach getting bigger, growing even more turned on as he thought about how it would have been because of him. 

“What you look like doesn’t matter,” you shook your. “You’re sweet and stupidly hot. At least, body-wise, and I’d be honored to have your baby, Eddie. I know we just met and I sound psycho, but I’m beginning to think that you like that about me,” You bat your lashes again as you leaned over him, your face getting close to his. Jesus, he finally found someone who had matched his freak?

“If you’re psycho, then I’m psycho,” he chuckled. “So, are you actually wanting me to get you pregnant or just saying that you wouldn’t be upset if you happened to wind up pregnant? Just want to be clear.”

“The second one,” you told him as you brought your lips to his mask again and he returned your kiss even though the plastic was a barrier. He was so close to ripping the thing off so he could feel your lips against his, but he decided against it, wanting to help you live out a fantasy that you had clearly been dreaming about for a long time. 

“Fuck it,” he patted his lap, inviting you to climb on top of him and you did so, Eddie helping you sink onto his cock, practically cumming as he heard the loud moan escape your mouth as he got inside you. “Bet you’re gonna look so fucking hot,” he rasped as you began to ride him, his hips bucking against yours as you moved together. “Already do. Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you.” 

“Christ, you have a filthy mouth,” you told him as your hands grabbed onto his shoulders and in one swift motion, he flipped you over so that your back was against the floor, hovering over you, his hair creating a curtain around your face. 

“Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart,” he chuckled again, pounding into you, watching you come undone underneath him. He loved being a bottom, but there was just something about being on top that made him feel so powerful and he wanted to be the one to be in control this time. Wanted to come inside you, watching your back arch as he filled you, fucking you even harder as he thought about your pregnant stomach again. 

“What do you think I’ll look like?” You asked through heavy breaths and Eddie felt like he finally had permission to tell you all the thoughts he had been holding back the entire night because he had been afraid of freaking you out. 

“Fucking hot,” he replied as his pace picked up, hypnotized by the way your tits were bouncing because of how hard he was fucking you, feeling his mouth collecting drool because of how badly he had wanted to suck on them. “Your tits are gonna get so big.” 

“You’re right-oh,” you let out a loud moan. “Fuck, Eddie.” A whine fell from your lips. “What else?” 

“Gonna make you wear tight clothes so I can always see your bump, a constant reminder of this night and what I’ve done to you.”

“I-” you cut yourself off. “I think I’ve finally found someone who matches my freak.” 

“Guess it’s fate that we’ve found each other then,” he winked, even though you couldn’t see him. “And I suppose it makes sense since I’m gonna be the father of your child.” His pace picked up, moving the fastest and hardest that he could and you clenched around him as you watched him reach yet another climax, a howl escaping him as you felt his cum feel you, even more turned on that in just a few weeks, you could have been carrying a child. 

You didn’t care that Eddie had been a stranger. You hadn’t had a connection like that with anyone and thought that he was right, that the whole thing really had been fate. And as you watched him orgasm, you couldn’t think about how you wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to father your child even though you hadn’t seen his face. He had shown you how beautiful he was just from his personality. He was sweet and kind and you felt so lucky to have found him. 

Eddie continued to fuck you, wanting to see just how many times the both of you could come until you were each both fucked out, until you couldn’t walk. So you stayed like that for a while, moans tumbling from both of your mouths as you both had orgasm after orgasm right there on the floor of the haunted house. 

The mask stayed on the entire time even after Eddie had pulled out and the two of you had gotten dressed. Even as you had fled the park, as he locked up, even as you both had headed to your car hand in hand. But as you stood in front of the driver’s side, staring up at the mask you had become so familiar with, your curiosity was getting the best of you as you suddenly had to know what he looked like. 

You slowly brought your hands up to the bottom of it, slowly pulling it up, a gasp escaping your mouth as you took him in, the boyish smile, his adorable nose and those damn bambi eyes that were looking at you with so much affection. 

“Eddie-” you said, finally able to put a face to the name you had become so familiar with and decided that he had suited him well. You brought your hand up to cup his cheek and brought his face to yours, slotting your lips between his as his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body to his gently. 

The whole thing had juxtaposed what you had just done in the haunted house and you kind of liked that, loving the feeling of his lips against yours, already knowing that you could easily kiss him for hours and not get tired of it. And before you could get too carried away, you pulled away to look back at the man, your thumb rubbing against his cheek affectionately. 

“You’re so hot that it’s unfair,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, but didn’t mind if he heard you. A wide smile broke out on his face and you couldn’t help but mimic it. “Yeah,” you nodded. “Our baby is going to be beautiful.”

“Well, that’d only be because of you,” he winked, happy that you could finally see it this time. 

“You need to stop saying things like that or I’m going to have to take you right in my backseat.” And before you could grab your keys from your purse to unlock the car, Eddie had you pinned to the door, his arms on either side of your shoulders, caging you in. 

“You say that like you wouldn’t enjoy it,” he whispered, his lips right by your ear. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. He removed his phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up his contact list before handing it to you. You quickly typed in your number and handed the device back to him before grabbing him by the shirt and pressing your lips to his one last time. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” you told him before grabbing your keys and unlocking your car. 

“Oh, I won’t,” he shook his head as he watched you get into the driver’s seat and turn on the engine. He was about to move so you could back out, but you rolled your window down and waved him forward. Eddie stepped closer and leaned down, watching you lean forward. “Need one for the road,” you told him as you puckered your lips and he was quick to oblige, pecking your lips then pulling away so you could roll up the window. 

He then moved out of the way so you could pull out of your space, watching your car roll by, immediately deciding that he was going to text you as soon as he got home, knowing that he was going to think about that night every day for the rest of his life, hoping that you wanted to be apart of it as much as he wanted you to. Well, he supposed you did since there was a possibility that you could have been having his child. And he really hoped that you were.

[simping-acefully]

Ep 3 got me acting really unwise

Nsfw headcanons for Laios under the cut (gn unspecified partner for Laios)

Warnings: NSFWish, probably ooc, reader insert implied?, probably not very sexy because I used this for character analysis.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Laios is very attentive, though he's also very insecure when it comes to engaging with others. So I imagine he'd be a little clumsy, though very eager to provide the best aftercare for his partner. He's also very cuddly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The favorite part of his own body are his hands. They are strong and calloused, and he's used them to protect others and to create new stuff! (Aka, cooking) the fact that those hands can also help him please a partner is a plus.

On a partner? Probably lips. I imagine Laios struggles to read people's facial expressions (the 'tism go brr) but seeing his partner's smile is reassuring. He also really likes running his thumb over them and maybe getting his fingers nibbled.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot.He has tasted his own cum out of curiosity in the past, too. And if he had a partner that ejaculated or squirted he would be delighted to taste it all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has probably jerked off to thoughts of his partner before they get together and it's eating him alive :(

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Zero experience, lots of book knowledge though! He's confused but he's got the spirit. Will need some leading at first, but he's a quick learner and is curious enough to experiment and try new things once he's gained confidence.

As an ace myself, I like to think that Laios is either ace too, or has a low drive and thus, sexual intimacy is a matter of doing something intimate and unique with a partner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that will allow him to see his partner's face for smooching! The emotional intimacy is the most important part for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries to be serious to the point he's almost uptight. But his clumsy and eager nature ends up organically devolving into somewhat goofy intimacy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes, but this man keeps it all natural because ?? Why would he waste time/energy on such things??? (Aka, he's not used to grooming the area, but he would do an effort if asked)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very!! The main driving force for the act. Laios is constantly kissing and checking with his partner. He loves them so much and this is a physical way to convey those feelings!

He holds hands with his partner, kisses their face and neck and tries to keep them as close as possible, the mental image of melting into a puddle together comes to mind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it often, but when he does it's more of a thing of connecting with his own body than getting rid of any urges. He won't be able to get off unless he's in a good mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Has a wee bit of a praise kink that he doesn't fully understand.

Shibari is one he wants to delve into, too. There's something to be said about the artistry of the knots, and the feeling of compression can be quite comforting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Probably his partner's bed. He shares a room with Falin, so intimacy on his place is a no-no. He doesn't particularly enjoy motels or inns either because he feels kind of self conscious/pressured to perform within a time limit. He was to take things slow and he wants to cuddle to sleep afterwards, dammit!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think his biggest driving force is an emotional connection. He craves to be understood and loved, so feeling that coming from his partner will make him want to show his appreciation in a physical way.

Probably jealousy is another good way to make Laios seek out his partner. He wants reassurance, to kill any doubts in his mind and any lingering feelings of inadequacy.

Also adrenaline too! Sometimes when the blood is pumping, his mind wanders. If he and his partner just were in a situation of danger, the physical reminder that they are there, alive and safe will make him desperate to feel them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doesn't like/understand degradation, and wouldn't do anything that he felt could hurt his partner.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, and lives for pleasing his partner! He's not very skilled at first, but he's very observant and receptive, so he gets the hang of what his partner likes even if they do not say so themselves.

However, after getting head himself, he's hooked. He loves it, he loves the look on his partner's eyes and the physical feeling is overwhelming on the best possible way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually slow and sensual, unless he just had a life or death situation with his partner, then he's desperate and anxious.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not one to really go for quickies, but if he's on the rare mood for one, he'll be sure to get and give lots of affection.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Laios would be interested in trying everything at least once. He's curious and inquisitive, and just as he is fascinated by monsters, he's fascinated by his partner and wants to learn what turns them on, and see what also works for him

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina for days! He can last one very long round. If he didn't get sleepy and cuddly afterwards, he could probably do more, but hnnnggg comfy

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own toys, but if introduced to them he's up for trying pretty much anything, both on himself and his partner.

I can see him growing particularly attached to non-human looking dildos/strap-ons and ropes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not much of a tease, but he low-key enjoys being teased. He doesn't seem to understand it, or be fully aware of the fact, but yeah.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud out the impulse to self restrain, but Laios is a whiner. He can get pretty loud when he's about to cum though.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Would love to roleplay as a monster with their partner but when he did bring up the idea he got laughed off and passed it off as a joke. It was not a joke.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I like to think that it would kind of mimic his silhouette, length slightly above average and overall on the thicker side. The widest point is right after the head.

Not very high at all. I kinda imagine Laios on the gray sexual spectrum so, it only becomes a thought after he begins pining for his eventual partner. It starts with him wondering how soft their hands would be, how about their neck and lips? And it eventually escalates to wandering thoughts of intimacy.

Once he does become intimate with a partner, he longs for intimacy more than he longs for sex itself.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

VERY. He's an eepy man.

[luvseisagi]

— two years late.

read part 1 here.

ft. itoshi sae x reader. wc. 5.7k

summary. after two years apart, the call you thought would never come finally did. content. gn!reader, no pronouns used, reader wears makeup. even more angst and even less comfort (sorry), right person wrong time, childhood friends to strangers, miscommunication. aged up characters (sae and reader are 20, rin is 18). sae might be ooc and has issues. author's note. there was like a FULL power outage in my country today i was isolated completely alone in my house with no light no cooked food no electricity no internet connection for HOURS. SUFFERING.. so i wrote this - it was actually supposed to be shorter than the first one?? and it's twice as long?? i like writing angst too much i fear.

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) ! enjoy

rin

did u arrive alr? mom says u have to pack everything u wanna keep before we come back give it two hours or so

sae sighs, the messages on his phone too bright for his liking. he has just arrived home from a twelve-hour-long flight and a painfully slow ride from the airport. the last thing he wants to do right now is start packing his old room’s things.

“sure” he types back, before shutting off his phone and throwing it onto the bed. his relationship with his little brother isn’t as bad now —sae is twenty and rin eighteen—, but he still gets slightly annoyed when they talk over text. only it isn’t exactly annoyance, but a cluster of unpacked feelings and regrets he never learned to express. 

not to his brother, at least. not to anyone in his life, since —well. since you and him weren’t friends anymore.

sae shakes his head in annoyance, as if a physical movement could somehow make the thoughts disappear. he leaves his suitcase in a corner of his room, still closed, near the window whose blinds he hasn’t bothered to raise yet. the jacket is lost somewhere in the pile of clothes cluttering the messy living room —it isn’t usually like this, his family has someone help with the cleaning daily. however, since they’re moving to a bigger house, his parents didn’t care at all if the common rooms stayed untidy. they just wanted to move out as fast as possible.

at first, he hadn’t understood why. sure, it was a matter of time before they bought a bigger, more expensive house —specially now that sae had just turned twenty and gotten signed for the actual re al team, and not the u20 one, and rin was considered the star of his generation, next to his always friend-and-rival isagi yoichi—, but why the rush? 

he had just come back from spain, again, and they were already pushing him to pack up and leave the only place where he had lived the memories he actually treasured.

it was unfair for him to think that way, though —him, who had been the first to abandon said place, and said memories, not once but twice. 

and that’s why now, standing alone in the gloom of his old room, he understands. because he isn’t the type of getting attached to things, people, places, or anything that has nothing to do with football, and he doesn’t really care about living in a big apartment or even a bigger house, but he feels the urge to run away from the moment he sets foot inside his old room.

instead of a bunk bed, there is now a big double bed his parents had ordered when he came back from spain the first time, two years ago. next to it, there’s a wide closet that takes up almost the entire left wall. and in the corner near the window, there’s the custom-made glass shelf they gave him when he was younger —which quickly filled up with trophies and awards from his high school years—. 

right beside it, there’s a dark wood desk he never really used —he didn’t like studying—, that would be empty if not for the pile of colorful envelopes sitting on top of it. 

his thought process is fast: if he lies down on the bed now, he will fall asleep for more than the two hours their parents are going to take before coming home. the trophies are valuable for him, but he isn’t on the mood to remember all the matches and competitions that they carry, and there are too many memories stuffed inside his closet that he doesn't want to dig up now.

so he walks to his desk, and he sits on the chair in front of the pile of letters.

they’re letters from fans, he remembers. his manager had dropped them off two years ago, a few days after rin left for the blue lock project. when he was younger, he would usually read all —or almost all, at least until he got bored— of the letters he received. his favorites were always the ones written by little kids telling him how he inspired them. 

he never really thought he could ever make an actual impact in japan’s football scene, but those kind of letters reminded him of his little brother, so he did appreciate receiving them.

it’s weird he hadn’t read these, considering most of the envelopes are pink, blue, or orange, and his manager’s address —the one published for receiving fan mail— is adorned with little hearts, flowers, and football balls. it’s pretty obvious most of them were written by kids.

he’s just about to open the first envelope —a dark pink one, similar to the color of his hair, adorned with little spirals, hearts, and a doodle he thinks it’s supposed to resemble him— when he remembers why he didn’t read them back then.

reality hits him like a punch straight to the stomach, and his chest feels suddenly so heavy he needs to close his eyes and focus on breathing. 

the shouting. the blame. the unanswered questions. he remembers everything, second by second.

the regrets. the indifference. the anger and the sadness. and you, crying so loudly you couldn’t even talk, sitting in the same chair he’s sitting in now.

he had been about to read the letters right before your argument —the first and last time you came to his house, after four years separated by thousands of kilometers, two continents and one ocean —, and he hadn’t had the strength to read anything after you left.

because the first thing you had said to him was “why did you say all those awful things to rin?”

not i missed you, or i’m really happy to see you. not even a hi, sae, but a question about his brother —which he knew he was important for you too, of course, but you were his best friend, not rin’s. sae should had been your first priority, not his brother.

the next thing he knew, you were shouting at him, blaming him for something he wasn’t even aware he had done. rin had a full breakdown because of their silly encounter that first day? he had just been being a big brother, telling him the truth —it was better if it was him, and not the big world outside, who taught him a lesson. 

but rin hadn’t understood that, apparently. and neither had you.

he had entered the autopilot mode —the same one he used while in interviews, or irrelevant social events in madrid— right after you mentioned rin. he barely even remembers what he told you now, what he answered or what he tried to explain. back then, the only thought of his mind was that you were standing right in front of him —taller, your features more mature, and somehow even prettier than you already were— and you hand’t even brought yourself to hug him yet. 

sae opens his eyes. 

yn’s not here. he thinks, repeating it to himself as a prayer, as if his words could make your ghost disappear from the room. there’s no one but me here. i’m alone.

again.

he lifts his head, feeling slightly dizzy after nearly choking in the waterfall of memories that just flooded him. i’m here alone, he tells himself once more, knowing full well he must look insane right now.

because he’s lying. you’re there. you’re everywhere.

you’re lying on his bed, even though you never actually had time to sleep in there —back when the old bunk bed he shared with Rin still stood in the room—, and you’re laughing in whispers while trying to decipher what rin’s dreaming about. 

you’re sitting on the floor, struggling to explain him a math problem for the twelfth time, annoyed because he insists on kicking a ball instead of paying attention to you. 

you’re almost drowning in a mountain of clothes, his room a runway while you try on his football jersey with a long skirt you stole from his mother. 

and you’re standing in front of the shelf, pretending to ask about each trophy —even though you knew exactly which belonged to which victory, because you had been there for every single one.

you’re also where he is now, sitting by the desk, your trembling hands playing with the colorful envelopes, fighting your urge to cry. 

but your voice —it sounds broken; and he knows he lost you way before you slammed the door and left his house forever, your jacket sleeve stained with the makeup you tried to wipe away and your lips pressed tight as if you were about to throw up your heart.

and still, everything on his room is so him he doesn't even understand why it's reminding him of you.

the only thing that anchors him to the real world right now, he thinks, are the envelopes on top of his desk. he tries to control his breathing, he tries to focus his gaze, and his hands are nearly shaking when he plunges his hand in the pile of letters. he doesn’t know why he clings to one, but he pulls it out of the pile and stares at it, the tips of his fingers brushing over the messy star drawn on the paper.

and suddenly he stops.

then he wonders.

he wonders why there's a letter on his hands, and why does it have your handwriting in it. 

for sae, and nothing else. there’s no address, which means no one sent it to his manager, and he knows it's yours, because he still recognizes your handwriting —and because even though all his fan letters have hearts drawn around his name and brightly colored envelopes, you're the only one who would have chosen the exact shade of teal of his eyes and the drawing of a star instead of the a in his name. 

he can't understand why his hands are practically shaking when he frantically tears the flap open, and he can't swallow the lump that forms in his throat as he reads the sentences written in black ink by a hand that seems unsure of itself. 

your handwriting is so familiar that his heart skips a beat, and now he doesn’t know if it’s because of sadness, regret, nostalgia or the excitement of having a piece of you in his hands again. 

as he reads, sae realizes when exactly you wrote that letter —since there’s no date to be seen anywhere. it looks like you had been trying to start writing something to him more than once, but your words never felt natural enough to express everything you wanted to tell him. not until he came back, and had an argument with rin.

in the letter, you tell him you expect a reasonable answer as for what happened with his brother, but that’s everything you mention about him. the rest of the message —three full pages of messy handwriting and some mistakes you crossed out with the pen—, talks about everything he wanted to hear that day. 

you wondered about his life in spain, you told him some stories he knew already —because you always went to him when you wanted to talk about your day—, and you kept telling him, over and over, how much you had missed for the past four years.

sae chuckles, reading every word with your sometimes excited, sometimes bored, sometimes indignant voice in his head. you are so cute, he thinks, caressing the sheet of paper without realizing it. 

“by the way,” the letter said, halfway through second page “do you remember that time you played against that other team of spain while i was in a sleepover, and i stayed awake just to congratulate you for scoring the winning goal? i was in a friend’s house, and everyone was asleep already but i watched the end of the match on my phone under the blankets.”

a small smile grows on his face. of course he remembers, your friends’ complaints were the background noise of the audios you had sent him after the match. you were, what, fifteen years back then? sixteen, maybe?

“well, the conversation was a bit embarrassing so i’m not going to tell you, but basically, i realized that i like you that night.”

sae stops reading for a second.

what?

the words resonate in his mind, unearthing a feeling whose funeral had already been celebrated years ago. 

he takes a deep breath before continuing to read, but the letter only gets heavier. 

you’re telling him how you realized it, what you liked about him, why you felt this weird feeling —one you would later learn was jealousy—, whenever you saw your friends happy in their relationships. for two whole years before you wrote that letter, you had been carrying the weight of discovering what a first love felt like.

and said first love was him.

sae’s world falls down. 

he doesn’t cry just yet, but he feels himself on the verge of tears right after reading your last sentence. 

“ps: for the sake of my dignity, i really hope you’re reading this in the airplane back to spain, or in your apartment in madrid, ‘cause i don’t think i could stand looking at you in your eyes knowing that you read this. however, please, call me when you read it —it doesn’t matter if you feel the same way or not, you don’t need to mention it. just call me, tell me how your flight was, complain about your manager and everything he’s making you do, if you must. but tell me something, please. 

i missed you, and i love you. and no ocean could ever drown that.”

sae freezes for three long seconds, his body static from pure shock, before practically throwing himself onto his bed, searching for his phone. he feels like he’s dying during the time it takes for the device to turn on, and he types his passwords as fast as his fingers allow before clicking on the contacts app. 

your name shines so bright in his screen he swears he could go blind, but this doesn’t stop him from staring. he gulps, nervous, and presses the call button under your profile pic —still you, when you were seventeen and asleep on his bed with his jersey as a pajamas.

the phone rings three times before someone picks up on the other end.

he doesn’t say anything at first, waiting for you to talk. his heart is beating so hard he can hear it, so loud it’s deafening, but the silence on the other side is even deeper, pushing the sound of his heart to the background. his expectations have never been higher, as well as his anxiety —creeping from his legs to his stomach, his chest, his arms and finally reaching the hand holding the phone.

“hello?”

he almost jumps when a voice that is definitely not yours comes through the phone.

sae hangs up so fast his mind barely processes it before he's staring at your name and your profile picture again. could you have changed your number? no, unlikely. as far as he knows, you still keep in touch with his parents, and his mother would have messaged him in an instant to give him your new number, even if she knew he wouldn’t use it. —she loved you like family; as she used to say when you were younger, you would definitely end up part of it if one of her sons was smart enough to wife you up.

so why did a man’s voice answer his call?

grabbing his phone with both hands, staring so hard it might break from it, sae lets his body fall back onto the bed. he stays there for a few seconds, your peaceful, sleeping face on the screen almost seeming to blame him for disturbing the peace you always had when you were together —by calling a number that was forgotten, forbidden.

when his brother had sent him that picture back then, he had felt a very weird, very unusual feeling forming in his chest. 

jealousy, maybe, because there was nothing he wanted more than being with you and rin right now. hurt, probably, since he had been living in spain for almost three whole years now, and he missed you two a lot. 

love, he concludes now, because he realized long ago that he loved you — he just never let himself think about it long enough to understand those feelings.

you were too far away, he told himself every time he thought of you like that — and there was no point in trying to tie you down when you were living your best life, being everyone's crush, having normal teen experiences with your new friends.

but how did he not know you loved him too?

before letting himself get lost inside his memories and regrets again, his thumb presses the call button once more. this is your number, he’s sure of it, and if he the guy that answered was with you in any kind of way… well, that’s something you would have to tell him yourself.

“hi? yn?”

he finally gathers the courage to be the one to do the talking first, but his voice is almost a whisper when he pronounces your name, each syllable soft after leaving his lips. 

it’s the first time he’s said it out loud in two years.

“hi, uh, sae?”

sae sighs, relieved, and he closes his eyes as he hears your voice. his head rests on one of the pillows, one hand holding the phone, the other on his chest, now breathing at a normal pace. he can’t stop the small grin spreading on his face.

then he remembers: you answered the phone, so it’s his turn to talk.

i missed you, he wants to say first, but discards it —might be too much. i’m happy to hear your voice, is another option, but perhaps too straightforward. how are you? seems right, or so he believes —no one taught him how to start a conversation with his lost childhood best friend before. he wants to appear casual, yes, but he also wants to show that he cares.

he has it all so clear in his head, he surprises himself when he suddenly speaks, his brain too slow to process his words before they spill from his mouth.

“i read your letter.” is what he says instead.

on the other side of the line, you frown, not expecting a call from him at all. not now, at least.

“what letter?” you ask, genuinely confused. you don’t remember sending anyone a letter, much less sending one to itoshi sae. 

he is so famous now, much more than what he was back when you two were still friends. even if you tried to send him something, you doubt he would have ever receive it.

you could have given it to him through his parents, though. through rin, now that their relationship was back to normal —you think, at least. ever since he was signed in the japan’s u20 team, you barely kept in touch.

a little smile grows on your face, not sweet, but bitter. nostalgia tracing your lips, and memories invading your chest.

sae speaks again.

"the one you wrote me two years ago. i never read it until now.”

reality hits you then. oh, that letter. the one you poured your soul and heart into at seventeen, when you thought your life would end if he read it. 

sure thing, you were wrong. your life didn’t end because he read it — it ended because he never did.

you stay quiet, half-hoping your silence is torturous for him. you have no words, anyway —how could you expect to receive the call you dreamed of, the one that kept you up at nights and anxious every morning, two years later?

so sae, desperate to fill the silence, starts talking again —words rushing out so fast you wonder if you’ll even be able to keep up.

"i thought you hated me and thats why you didn’t call or come back to my house after the argument" he says. his voice sounds weird, raspy, like he’s choking in his words —on his feelings, really, the guilt twisting him up inside.

"i thought you got on rin's side after we argued, and i thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore after you left my house crying.” still laying on the bed, his posture the same as minutes ago, sae feels his chest tighten with every word he says. a whirlwind of memories, regrets and nostalgia, and unsaid feelings tearing him apart, from his heart to his head —his rationality, too, as he seems to be unable to stop talking.

“i never took your letter to spain and i never read it till now —didn’t even know it was yours, it got messed up with some of the fan mail. i found it today, in my desk—, and i was so angry back then, because you didn’t come to say goodbye before i went back to madrid after the u20 match.” he speaks in a rush, thoughts unfiltered, pouring straight from his heart to his mouth “it felt unfair, having strangers write me letters, tell me they would miss me, when the only person I wanted to hear it from was you.”

he falls silent after that, expecting an answer.

since you are saying nothing back, he keeps talking. 

meanwhile, you can only think it is so not sae, speaking this much, having the need to explain himself —no one had, never in his life, asked him to justify his actions. so why is he so desperate for you to understand him? 

he feels the urge to say sorry —worse, even. he feels the need for you to forgive him.

so he doesn’t stop.

“i… i’m sorry for not taking your letter to spain. and i’m sorry for not reading it, and not calling you.” he exhales, voice breaking slightly “i expected you to reach out first, but since you didn’t, i thought…”

“that is not your fault” you finally say, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

you hate hearing him like that —so vulnerable, so hurt. you had dreamed of this call for a long time, wanting it, for a while, to be this dramatic and intense. but not anymore. two long years have passed, and your mourning had ended a while ago. 

“i was the foolish one” you say softly “for thinking you would read all the letters and find mine there. but that’s fine now, i was a dumb teenager, in love with a famous football player who lived on the other side of the planet. it sounds like a cliché fanfic trope” you chuckle “what was i expecting?” 

your voice is calm, and even your posture, sitting in the sofa on your living room, is composed too. you are able to control the lump of feelings forming in your throat —you are not lying when saying you were the naive one. yes, it was the most hurtful heartbreak of your life, but you had gotten over it already.

“i am really sorry, yn.” sae sighed, his eyes closed again, tightly pressed together as if afraid of letting a rebellious tear scape. “i’m sorry i disappointed you.” 

and when you hear these words, you know he’s hurting. you know he is because, even though he never got the courage to say it out loud, that’s always been his biggest fear—disappointing people. 

he was scared of not being good enough at football —he was a prodigy in japan, but he had to train for what he thought it would be natural for him once he started playing in spain—. he was terrified of failing at being a good older brother —he had always taken good care of rin. why, when he was just trying to protect him, did he make his relationship worse? 

and deep down, he hated the thought of not being good for you, too —which, he thinks bitterly, he wasn’t, either. he waited for you to come to him and tell him goodbye, waited for you to text him or call him or tell him you missed him instead of doing it himself, when he was the one dying to hear your voice again.

“look, sae, i…” 

you don’t know what else to say, anyway, because he did disappoint you, but you can’t just tell him the truth. he would not be able to handle it —you had always thought that he would, but you weren’t so sure right now.

“it might be a bit late for the call” he says, swallowing hard. the words taste metallic on his tongue, just like blood, and he’s saying them out loud before he can bite his lips and shut up “but i think you have the right to know that i loved you t-“

you cut him off in an instant.

“sae” 

his name in your mouth sounds like a warning, a plea, and a cry all at once. however, you don’t give yourself enough time to analyze each of them —he has, finally, nothing else to say. he’s run out of excuses to tell you, to fix a huge mistake he had made without even realizing it.

you summon the courage to keep talking.

“i have a boyfriend now” 

sae’s chest freezes for a second, his breath getting stuck in his throat after hearing your words. he mutters an oh, but he can’t bring himself to say nothing else.

“that guy from maths, in high school.” you tell him, as if talking could somehow fix the awkward silence between you two “the one who had a crush on me when we shared that class. he’s studying the same degree as i am, and we got paired up for a group project not so long ago. i guess he never gave up liking me, and, well, when he asked me again, there was nothing stopping me from dating him.”

it is not until you finish your last sentence that you realize how cruel you have just been —until now, the only thing stopping your for dating him was precisely sae. and he knows that.

you haven’t said it on purpose, really, but for a moment, you wonder if sae is feeling what you felt the day you two argued. if he is now discovering the effect he has on people when he’s being rude. unintentionally, but rude anyway.

you stay in silence a while longer, waiting for him to say something —it’s not like you don’t care about what he was saying, or feeling, when you interrupted him; but two years later, really? a lot has happened since you two were eighteen, and it is true you have a boyfriend. it doesn’t really matter what he tells you now.

"i'm sorry, yn.” he finally says, voice soft under his, for some reason, shaky and uneven breath —could it be that this conversation is actually affecting him? “i’m sorry for not reading your letter. and for saying sorry now. and for not telling you that i loved you when i should have." 

those last words make you feel your heart break, just a bit, just a crack —only enough for a tear to fall from it through your eyes and down your cheek. 

"im sorry too, sae. but you are late for that”

then there’s silence again. neither of you says nothing for a while, but neither of you hangs up. for a few seconds, him laying on his bed and you sitting on your sofa, it feels like you are together again. rin’s superhero cartoons in the television, sae’s arm over your shoulders and your head against his neck. he would say something about his practice, and you would detangle his dark pink bangs from his long black eyelashes, then laugh at the face he made whenever you touched his hair.

everything was so easy when you were still kids, practically living in the same house three days a week —when his brother and you shared first place on things he loved, alongside football, not after it.

you sigh, escaping the bubble you had gotten in. you couldn’t blame football, practice, or matches at all —it was what distanced sae and rin, but it had nothing to with you. 

it was loving him what changed everything for you two, you think. or, at least, being such a coward you were never able to tell him. or maybe it was nostalgia. or anger. or lack of communication.

you would never know now.

the silence is mortifying. sae is the one who breaks it.

"nothing would have changed, though.” he whispers suddenly. you’re sure he’s holding the phone close to his face, for how his voice sounds, and you are right —still lying on his bed, sae lays on his side, one hand under the pillow and the other loosely playing with the sheets. the phone is on the pillow too, near to his lips, which talk very softly. “you know that, right?” 

you wonder if he’s aware he’s sounding a bit mean again, even if he’s whispering.

“i mean, you were just about to start your dream degree at college and i was centered in my football career in spain, so even if i had read the letter before and i had called you, probably nothing would have changed at all” he’s biting his lip now, curled upon his bed, as if you were kids again, telling each other secrets under the blankets. “maybe it was for the better.”

you can’t help it but chuckle. this is so sae, trying to fix something with the right intentions but the wrong words. 

he was never good at comforting people, honestly, but no one, not even you, had ever told him that —the fact that his words are always true doesn't mean they can't hurt, and that’s something he never understood.

maybe he thinks you are immune to them now, now that you have a new boyfriend and, apparently, your dream life. but it does hurt anyway.

"i would have waited for you" you confess, throwing another sharp truth to him. you hear him swallow the lump in his throat "but it doesn’t matter now, does it?” 

on the other side of the line, sae presses his lips together, and sighs silently. he doesn’t even react to your sarcasm —of course you would have waited for him. of course he would have waited for you, too. 

and well, you have a boyfriend now, but it’s the guy you had been complaining about for weeks on facetime when you were younger, at very late hours in japan and very early hours in spain. and it might be selfish for sae to think this, but you couldn’t like your boyfriend that much if it had taken him more than four years to get a yes from you.

so maybe, after clearing the feelings between you two, you could fix the friendship you had —and had lost— during his time in spain. maybe he could... 

“would you like to hang out sometime?” he asked boldly, voice now louder and less of a whisper. his idea had potential, he thought “my family's moving out, you could come and visit the old house before we sell it, to say your goodbyes —you have memories here too.” 

your heart shrinks a little bit again,

“no, sae, i told you already. it's too late.” you try to portray a composed image, voice calm, but the distress is noticeable in your voice anyway. maybe sae hasn’t done it on purpose, but nostalgia is your weak point, and he knows that. “you are too late.”

so you don’t wait for him to say anything more before hanging up the phone. you were on edge already, a knot tightening more and more around your heart, tears piling up under your lashes. 

he has no idea how hard it was for you to move on, not just because of the distance, but because of the silence. the silence he had left when he left, and which stopped being a painful void only to become a wall between you two.

you throw your phone to the carpet of the living room; your boyfriend, still inside the bathroom, completely unaware of the state you are in —tears falling uncontrollably down your cheeks, breath uncoordinated and hard to swallow, hand covering your mouth as if, just like in a very vivid memory, you were about to throw up your heart.

of course you had spent two whole years trying to get over your first love just because itoshi sae had not recognized the envelope you’d left on his desk the last time you went to his house, and he had mixed it up with his fan’s letters. of course he hadn’t read any of them at all, because he didn’t care about his fans’ thoughts of him the way he cared about your goodbye, which he thought he would never get.

of course he hadn’t forgotten about you, and he didn’t hate you —he loved you, how could he not? and he had been scared of telling you because he thought you were the one angry at him. 

your trembling lips exhale a long sigh, and you wipe away your tears, staining your hoodie with your now-smudged makeup. you can’t help it but laugh at the irony.

of course you forgive him for everything, because you still love him. 

at least a little bit. even if you have a new boyfriend and a new whole life and you've spent drunken nights trying to forget him and rainy evenings missing him like crazy. 

in the end, seems like he loved you, too. you wonder if it was fate what didn’t allow you to be together —sae was right, though, distance was difficult and your lives way too different for a relationship to have worked. but who knows, you think. you had believed, religiously, for so many years, that sae was the one made for you —it doesn’t feel real realizing that he might have thought that about you before, too.

you sigh, closing your eyes and hugging one of your cushions. you have no more tears to cry.

if only he hadn’t read the letter two years late.

masterlist.

tags ౨ৎ @princesssae .ᐟ

pls lmk what u think in the comments, reblogging, through messages, asks or wtv!! feedback is important to me in these first posts and i'd appreciate it a lot 🤲🏼

﹫luvseisagi, april 2025.

[ejoym]

Wait wait wait, Devlin slept with Gale?? I meed context

YUP…and she hated it. 😂 It’s an experience they’d both rather forget but one that I found very useful in understanding Devlin’s character!

This was early in Act 2 so Devlin and Astarion weren’t exclusive. Devlin was, however, catching feelings for Astarion. She understood he was putting on a front though and assumed he’d eventually call it quits with her. She tried to preemptively steel herself against his rejection in a typical self-sabotaging way. She was alone with her thoughts, which were worsened by Sceleritas Fel whispering in her ear. It left her feeling vulnerable. She wanted an escape…and what better way than in the arms of another!

And guess which horny weirdo threw himself at her?

Gale isn’t her usual type but she was taken by his unique sexual advances. She also suspected he was seeking his own escape with her after the “go kill yourself” order from his ex. She thought this was going to be sex for sex’s sake, a win-win experience for all parties…she was wrong! 🤣

Gale’s astral projection sex was actually an affront to all that Devlin loves about sex.

Taking the body out of it was sacrilegious for her. Devlin is a very physical person who loves bodies in all of their sweaty, fluid, gross, decaying goodness. Gale’s romantic speech beforehand was also completely lost on her. She’s not against romance per se but she has a pretty different conception of it from most! She prefers romance with a little more bite.

The morning after, Astarion’s “I see you found a new lover…” scene triggered, which legitimately caught Devlin off guard. It showed her that Astarion cared more than he was letting on. They grew a lot closer after that! Good thing too because soon she'd try to eat him when the urges took over LOL

She was also NOT SHY in telling Gale how much she hated their sex. Prompting Gale to reflect on why he’s often attracted to assholes like Devlin (I say this affectionately, I love my little jerk but she’s such a bully to Gale😂) I think he did some important soul searching afterwards and actually grew to have a little more self respect!

Thanks for the ask! I wasn't sure this would ever come up but it's something that has quietly shaped their interactions in the fancomics I make! Plus, it gives all new context to the holiday card post!

[nyxwanderland]

♡ who cares when all i want is you?

character → gojo satoru story → angsty + fluffy at end, hurt/comfort, a bit of swearing, fem!reader, megumi calls reader nee-san, gojo and reader are 21 years old, mentions of hidden inventory gojo 'death' , gojo being a jerk tho :(  word count → 3.5k (my longest fic so far wohoo)

your ears perk up to the jingling of keys outside your front door, a sound of which you have been waiting for since this evening. the door swings open as you stand up from your place on the couch, turning the tv off which was used as a distraction to keep yourself awake, since it is way past midnight, to reveal gojo with a somewhat distraught expression on his face.

you clear your throat before speaking up, making sure to sound as calm as possible in order to not ruin his mood even further. "you're home…" the urge to want to talk about something that has been weighing on your mind suddenly dissipates due to the scowl your boyfriend has, plastered on his handsome features.

gojo doesn't answer and proceeds to shut the door and take his shoes off, sighing as if you are the last person he wants to talk to right now. you stand there, fiddling with your fingers, unsure of how to make him talk even if it's just a word.

"um, is everything alright?" you quietly ask. "do you want to talk about it over dinner?"

"god," gojo groans and it makes you flinch a bit, surprised to see his reaction. "can i have just one moment of peace? i literally just got off this stupid meeting right after exorcising a special grade in kyoto. i'm going—"

"what?" it comes off much more exasperated than you intended to. "what do you mean a special grade? and you were in kyoto? why didn't you tell me?"

gojo looks at you as if you had grown another head. "why? why is telling you necessary? do you want to interfere in my job and be in my way of everything?"

this. this is the very topic you were eager to express about just a few seconds ago.

"it's not about that," you explain, trying to keep your voice under control as megumi is fast asleep upstairs. "you've been leaving for difficult missions without at least informing me. hell, you're sometimes gone for a week long, no-contact tasks outside the city and i'm here waiting for you to get home without getting a wink of sleep, only to find out from yaga-sensei or someone else!"

you take a deep breath and slowly approach gojo's towering figure, your hand reaching out to hold his. you look up at his eyes, but they are shielded by his pitch-black shades.

"i'm worried for you, satoru," your voice wavers as a lump forms in your throat that is impossible to swallow away. "i'm scared something might happen to you… like that day."

gojo knows what day you are referencing. the day when he almost lost his life. but it was also the day when he finally understood what was holding him back to really become the man he is now.

he wants to understand your concern, he really does. He always pays attention to the things that trouble you and takes measures to free you from them. this time, however, he's having a difficult time in realizing that he himself is the root of your distress at this moment. all because he thinks (or actually knows) that—

"i'm the strongest," gojo states blatantly. his face doesn't express any sort of emotion right now. it's simply blank. a look you are not used to as you usually aren't the one receiving such. "i'm better than whatever i was that day, practically invincible—"

"satoru," you breathe out frustratingly as a plea to listen to you. "you get careless sometimes. you never know what's going to happen the next minute—"

"you know what?" gojo interrupts you, seeming rather annoyed with this conversation. In reality, that's not the case. he just wants this discourse to end this instant and talk about it later when he is in a better state of mind. before he can even process his words in his head, they slip out, completely opposite of what he was planning to say…

"you're just jealous of me because you will never get to my level no matter how hard you try. so why don't you focus more on your weaknesses and not project your insecurities onto me, okay?"

gojo brushes past you, knowing he fucked up real bad the moment he spat those venomous words and watched your, the love of his life's, face express how your heart broke into a million pieces, your eyes brimming with tears in the process.

you don't say anything, either to stop him or lash out at him. you merely stand in place and watch your vision blur as tears trickle down your face. a choked sob escapes your lips and you cover your mouth to prevent from making any more sound so gojo can't hear them.

little do you know, gojo hears you the first time. however, he makes no attempt to run back to you and hug you for comfort, since he knows he doesn't deserve to feel your touch.

☆☆☆☆☆

gojo wakes up to an empty bed, for the fourth time this week. It has been this way since the argument four days ago. you have been sleeping at the couch, not wanting to feel his presence at all. all you do is make breakfast for megumi (who is extremely uncomfortable by the silence at home) before dropping him to school and go to jujutsu high by yourself, occasionally grabbing a cup of coffee if you feel like it.

and gojo hates it. even though he knows he deserves this silent treatment from you, he is dying to reconcile with you, apologize and listen to what you have to say. every time he tries to approach you, you dodge him while not even sparing a glance at him.

"she asked me not to tell you," yaga says when gojo asked him since he couldn't find you. you wouldn't answer his calls or messages anyway, so it was useless for him to reach for his phone, leading to him asking the teacher. "but she'll be back by 7."

gojo sighs, partially in annoyance and partially defeat. he decides to go home as he was done for the day and wait for you then. he trusts you to return home safely by then.

until a loud thunder roars late in the evening at 8pm, when he was helping megumi with his homework, which you'd normally be the one doing it. it is an hour later than you were supposed to be home. a feeling of uncertainty washes over gojo and he begins to feel jittery.

"when is nee-san coming home?" the little boy asks. "why haven't you made up yet? you definitely did something wrong."

the man sitting across him at the dining table exhales in sorrow. "i'm going to talk it out today, don't you worry."

"i'm worried for nee-san only," megumi retorts as he gathers his books and shoves them into his backpack. "she's never looked this sad. she's doing that fake smile just to make me feel better."

gojo remains silent, feeling his heart sink even deeper every minute. he's listening to megumi but at the same time getting even more anxious when the rain outside starts to pour harder.

"i want to see her genuinely smiling again. don't you dare break her heart."

i'm afraid i've done that already, he thinks and watches the raven-haired boy go to his room. but i'll fix this.

minutes pass but there is still no sign of your return. your boyfriend paces around the living room, waiting for the familiar sound of the door clicking open. when the clock strikes 8:50pm, he grabs his coat and keys and dashes out the door after informing megumi.

he runs in the pouring rain, his infinity on so he isn't drenched. he hopes you are in the location he suspects you to be, a place where you usually visit when there are a lot of things in your mind. you usually go there with gojo, but the circumstances cause you to be alone, on the ground with knees clutched to your chest and your head resting on them, as your whole body gets soaked in rainwater.

gojo is confirmed to be right as he finds you in such a position. he looks at you intently, not knowing what to say. he slowly approaches your curled up figure before stopping right in front of you and crouching to meet your level. he doesn't realize he subconsciously turns his infinity off, leaving him drenched like you.

he quietly calls out your name, as if you'd break if he's even a little bit louder.

you had immediately noticed his presence when you heard his fast paced footsteps towards you before coming to a halt. you don't want to speak to him but at the same time you do since it has been four excruciating days of entirely no words exchange. you want to hold him, kiss him, forgive him. however, right now, it suddenly feels too hard to raise your head and make eye contact with his gorgeous blue ones.

the ones you'd stare at for eternity.

gojo calls you once again. "let's go home and talk it out, love. i don't want to hear your silence anymore."

your voice comes out muffled, partly due to your head buried into your knees and partly because of the raindrops' loud pitter-patter on the ground. but it is loud enough for the man before you to hear it.

"i hate you."

"you don't," your boyfriend responds in a surprisingly calm manner. "i know you don't. you still made breakfast for me and bought my coffee and left it at my desk. you still asked yaga-sensei about my future missions and watched over me when you thought I wasn't looking. baby, i love you as much as you do—"

"then why?!" you cry out, finally raising your head and standing up —gojo following suit — to reveal your red, puffy eyes and the tears that could've been mistaken as rain. "why is it so hard for you to communicate? why would you rather hurt me by saying things you don't mean than talking about how hard work gets? why don't you want me to take care of you the way you take care of me? why don't you ever listen to me?!"

you break into sobs, unable to continue yelling at him any longer. gojo does the best thing he could think of right now — hold you in his arms as you cry out all your feelings.

"am I not good enough…?" your voice quiets down, sniffling.

"n-no! please no, don't you ever think about yourself like that!" you feel his arms grip around your body tighter. you could hear his voice shaking, and you wonder if it's because of the cold or that he's in tears.

it's the latter. gojo could care less about the rain and cold this moment.

he buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing there. "i just… don't want to burden you with my problems all the time. i'm always pissed off when there's a meeting with the higher ups. i'm always tired after missions. it's the same thing over and over again. and i want to be the strongest for you. i just can't dump all—"

he is cut off when you break away from the hug. he begins to say something, maybe for you to come close to him again, but you spoke up before he could, infuriated. "are you fucking serious right now, satoru?"

"…what?"

"i don't care if you're the strongest sorcerer in the world! to me, you are just satoru. i don't have any wild expectations for you to fulfill. you could destroy a huge ass curse, i don't give a fuck because the satoru i fell in love with in high school was a boy who loves digimon, eats sweets as his meals and is literally the most stupid guy I have ever met!"

"hey, I'm not stupid…"

"that's not the point! i mean, it is— oh my god, shut up!"

gojo may have said that to make you giggle somehow, as he usually does (yet miserably failed), however his heart swelled the moment you said the first sentence. he has heard every sort of compliment or praise in his life, but this is something he never thought he'd hear ever. for once, he is allowed to be satoru. his eyes start welling up with tears just at the thought of being wanted.

it's not that he hasn't felt loved and wanted with you, but it's finally the feelings being put into the words that did it for him.

you take a deep breath and look at your beloved for a moment. he's soaking wet, the ends of his snow-white hair dripping. he left his glasses at home, so you see those sky blue eyes properly for the first time in a while. his eyes hold so much adoration for you that it melts your heart; he looks just like a small puppy.

the corners of your lips curl upwards after what felt like forever, finally smiling. gojo's eyes widen at the sight.

oh, you look so ethereal right now. he wishes that he could be the every drop that cascades down your face so he could kiss the rosy apples of your cheeks with gentle care. then he realizes he could do that anyway and suddenly yet delicately holds your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over your face.

"satoru," you speak up again. "you know what love really is? It's the art of sharing your happiness and sorrow both with someone else, without the fear of being judged or thrown away. just as you want to be there for me and protect me, i want to do the same for you. you are allowed to talk about how horrible of a day you had or about things that are stressing you out. i will anything that makes you feel better, just say the word."

"mhmm," gojo nods his head, squishing your cheeks while he pouts. "i'm so sorry… for everything. for not communicating and saying really mean stuff to you I didn't mean—"

you place your hands on top of his. "i know. i forgive you. but, i was hurt. i'm not jealous of you, dumbass. how dare you say i'm weak and insecure!"

his facial expression visibly turns into regret. "I'm really sorry, baby.

"and please, tell me when you're leaving for missions. even a text if it's an emergency. i don't want to lose you again."

now he looks like he is going to cry any second. "okay... i'm such a jerk, aren't i?."

"that you are."

"hey! you were supposed to comfort me!"

"nuh-uh. you deserve this one."

"oh well, i did realize it today when you left like that." he chuckles. "where did you go anyway?"

"i was here all this time," you bite his fingers and gojo let out a loud yelp (it doesn't even hurt, he just loves to see your victorious smile). "i was waiting for you."

"what if i didn't come find you?"

"i would've have broken up with you."

gojo winces and pouts. "that's so mean…"

a loud thunder suddenly breaks you from your little banter. "we should get home. we're totally getting sick."

"i'll make it up to you, babyyyy."

oh my god hi guys!! it has been a year since i've posted lmaooo i will try to post more now i'm trying lol but it's so good to finally get out of my writer's block and got to writing (i actually was very lazy to write but i had these scenarios in my head already lmao) borders by @cafekitsune <3

[jennifer-jeong]

Smut | Xiao x AFAB!Reader Your First Time

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, afab reader (assigned female at birth), no reader pronouns mentioned, virgin Xiao and reader, kisses, handjob, oral, penetration, creampie, Xiao being mildly rough with you but mostly as gentle as possible, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES Kinda porn no plot but this should tie into a storyline that I have. Xiao falls for you like he does in this fic that I wrote but there’s some more development before the events in this fic should happen. I might eventually write something short and fluffy about it. Note that in canon Genshin they probably don’t have “boxers” in the modern sense LMAO I just didn’t know how to say “undergarments” without saying “undergarments” LMAOOO

WORD COUNT: 2713

Your first time with Xiao is almost feverish with how much your bodies need each other. You’ve been together for a while now but have taken a long time to get comfortable with each other's touch, Xiao especially. He’s always been scared of hurting you and he’s also just never really understood what it’s like to need to be touched.

You lead him into it after noticing that he’s been struggling with his body’s urges after learning more about humans and how they love. While on a date in the city, he asked you why he sees some couples look at each other intoxicated when they haven’t drunk any alcohol. You answered that humans feel that way when they need each other's bodies. You swear you see a question mark appear above Xiao’s head. “Like… without their clothes on,” you explain further. More question marks seem to appear. “We’ll learn about that eventually, darling,” you reassure him. “You don’t have to understand it right away, it’s something that couples discover together,” You smile warmly at him and he does the same back.

Xiao’s mind may have been confused at the time but after seeing how other couples look at their partners, his body activated in a way he’s never experienced before. He looked at you in your pretty dress, thought about you with it off, and immediately understood.

So here you are, pinning Xiao to the bed and straddling his hips. Your lips are attached to his as his face is flushed a deep red. You have your left elbow propping you up and your right hand caressing his cheek, occasionally slipping into his hair to brush through it. Xiao doesn’t know what to do with his hands or if he’s allowed to touch you so he lightly holds onto your left bicep. His other hand falls, palm up, next to his shoulder. He fidgets with the pillow as he processes the wonderful feeling of your lips against his. You’ve kissed before but it’s never been as heated as this. It’s almost too much for him already, your hands in his hair, your tongue finally slipping into his mouth cautiously so as not to spook him, your hips on his, the smell of your perfume on your neck, and the warmth from your body radiating onto his. Xiao is already painfully hard from this alone and upon noticing, you grind your needy core into his. He lets out a moan into your mouth and surprises himself. His voice came out entirely automatically, like he couldn’t hold himself back when you finally stimulated him. He wasn’t sure how to comprehend what happened, all he knew was that he wanted more.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. But you trusted Xiao so much and you knew he felt the same way. You felt okay leading him because even though he was having trouble getting the words out, his body did the talking for him, and you could tell it wanted you as much as yours wanted him. You still took precaution multiple times though, asking him if this was okay before leading him to your bed, before laying him down, and before kissing him. He wished there was a better word for him to say than “yes” to explain how much he wanted this but it was all he could manage right now.

You break the kiss to smear your lips on his neck, pecking and asking him if he feels good, breathing in his sweet and lightly musky scent. His hands both reach towards the pillow to grip it as he moans a breathy “yes… thank you.” Your hands sneak up the bottom of his tight shirt to feel his solid muscle and his breath hitches. “You don’t need to thank me, darling” you whisper into his neck. Your hands retract slightly to start to take off his pants. “Is it okay if I take these off?” you say while sitting up slightly. He nods and helps you take them off. You leave his boxers on to help ease him into getting comfortable. You return to straddling him and palm him through the thin layer of fabric and he’s so sensitive he doesn’t know what to do. He moans and his breath quickens. You feel how big he is with your hand and it makes your core clench around nothing. The desire in your core building, turning almost unbearable and burning as you soak through your panties. As you continue, Xiao covers his eyes with his arm as if he didn’t want you to see him like this. You take in how pretty he looks as well as how muscular he actually is. He’s lean but also very toned, his abs evidently solid and chiseled as well as his upper body. You crawl up a little to peck his lips to try and comfort him and explain that since it’s a first for both of you, you’re also flustered. He moves his arm away from his face as you place one of his hands on your waist and the other on your chest. He isn’t sure what to do so you squeeze his hand on top of your chest. He understands and starts to knead your tits while you touch him through his boxers. You start to breathe heavily with him, enjoying the stimulation. Xiao reaches his other hand up, massaging both your tits at the same time, his cock twitching in your hand as he does so. He loves how soft they are, he wonders what they look like uncovered. As if you were reading his mind, you take your dress off to give him more access. You unclip your bra and slowly slide off the straps from your shoulders, holding the cups to your chest still, slightly shy to show him. You’re still straddling him and so he brushes his hands on your thighs to comfort you, and sits up, leaning against the backboard of the bed. “You look so beautiful” he says while looking into your eyes. Xiao might not be experienced with intimacy but he is experienced with you and your emotions, he’s an expert at reading you and comforting you, you love that about him. He puts his hands over yours and rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, pulling you close to kiss the top of your breasts. It makes you hold your breath. As you breathe out after a pause, you lower your hands and remove your bra. Xiao’s eyes dart back and forth between your face and your chest as he takes it all in. He slides his hands up the sides of your body to grab your tits again. His movements tell you he’s getting more confident.

He ghosts his thumbs over your nipples as you reach down to continue to pleasure him. His hips buck into your touch. As he receives more and more stimulation, his mind gets hazy with lust, his anxiety slowly melting away. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth and you moan. He sucks gently and runs his tongue around the already hardened bud. You take this as a sign to also move further, so you pull his cock out of its fabric restraints to pump it properly with your hand. He moans from the extra contact and his movements falter for a moment. He looks up at you with lidded eyes and you swear you see hearts in each other's eyes. The room feels like it’s burning up and you both love it.

Not soon after, all of your clothes have been tossed to the floor and you’re closing your mouth around Xiao’s leaky tip while he lays down. He’s already a mess because you’ve been licking stripes from the base to the tip for the past minute. You swirl your tongue around him as he can’t help but tug your hair with the hand that he tangled into it. You tease him a little longer before fully deepthroating him. He throws his head back with a moan and bucks into your mouth because he’s so sensitive and can barely control himself. His legs get shaky as you start to bob your head up and down. You move one hand to massage your slick covered clit, unable to ignore the aching need for stimulation any longer and sending vibrations through his body as you moan on his dick. Your other hand reaches to massage his balls and he literally feels like he’s going to die because of how good it all feels. You don’t want to push him too close to the edge yet so you soon pull back. Making sure to leave him well lubricated.

Xiao is already a bit fucked out and doesn’t know what’s happening but he snaps back as he feels your folds on him. You’re hovering above him, angling his dick to your entrance, sticky with arousal. “Mmph- wait, i-is this okay?” Xiao quickly asks as you rub him on your folds. “It’s more than okay, love… I- mmm… need you in me right now,” you slur to him as his tip rubs your clit. Xiao is beyond flustered at your boldness but he still manages to reply, “mmm- t-that sounds so good, darling.” You smile at him and lean down to kiss him before easing your hips down as he bottoms out in you. You both moan in unison as your pussy clenches and his dick twitches. It feels so good it makes your chest tighten. He stretches you out so good and you need a second to get used to his size. He fills you up to your cervix and his girth gives you just the right amount of delicious pressure and pain as you adjust. The ribbed texture of your insides making Xiao dizzy and the veins on his cock making you lightheaded. You lean on his chest to catch your breath and moan into his ear “y’fill me up so good darling.” “F-fuck, it feels s-so good… Your body… You feel so good,” he stutters out to you while digging his nails into your hips trying to control himself. You clench at his words and it drives him crazy. It’s taking so much to not start fucking into you right now. He knows he needs to wait for you to give him the go ahead, but as the night draws on, he’s been getting more needy, more desperate. Your velvety walls sucking him in so nicely, continuously pulling him in deeper. These new sensations are awakening his instincts and it’s so much at once. He loves you so much and knows you feel the same. He can barely get any words out as he’s getting so feral for you.

The moon illuminates your bodies ever so slightly as a warm breeze brushes over your scorching bodies. The only sound other than leaves rustling is your shared panting. The room feels like a sauna and it feels like an eternity before you next speak. Xiao hears nothing but your voice when you look at him with doe eyes and finally say “Xiao… please fuck me.” His pupils seemingly dilate as all rationality disappears. He pulls all the way out and slams back into you, already setting a fast pace. He hugs your waist tight, your chests flush against each other as you rest your arms around his head, pulling at his hair with one hand as he savors the delicious, dull pain. You’re both moaning messes, your hearts beating fast in unison. He continues to pound into you until his legs are burning. You notice his fatigue and decide to tell him to relax as you sit up. He moans at the sight of your naked chest and how your arousal is mixing with his, creating sticky strings on your thighs and where you’re connected. You start to grind on him, feeling him rub at the spongy part inside of you. You tell him to aim for this spot as you point above your core. He nods and breathes out a shaky sigh as he feels his pleasure building. You start to bounce on him with your hands on his chest as his hands find your hips. He loves how your tits bounce while you ride him like this. Your moans sound so heavenly to him and it makes his grip on your waist turn bruising. Your hands on his chest move up to cage his head as you get tired and he understands to start fucking up into you again. His hands find your ass and you moan out a “yes” as he experimentally squeezes it. He fucks you as his hands grip the upper plush of your ass. A few thrusts later and you sob out louder than before and he knows he’s found your spot. Your moans get louder and higher in pitch as he concentrates on fucking you so good you see stars. You’ve been making him feel so good and safe all night and now it’s his turn to lead. You reach a hand down to rub at your clit. “Xiao- mm, I’m g-getting close.” He’s breathing hard and isn’t extremely familiar with this feeling but replies in a breathy voice “m-me too.”

“Please keep going… Ahh- just like that mmmmphh,” you say as your eyes squeeze shut. “Cum with me~ please…” you moan. It feels overwhelming as your core tightens and your body gets even more sensitive to everything. The drag of him along your gummy walls, his hands on your body, the sound of your wet skin slapping together, the repeated stimulation of both your clit and your g-spot. Your orgasm hits hard and sudden as waves of pleasure quickly start to rack your body before you can even tell him you’re cumming. You let out a high pitched sob that quickly becomes uncontrollable moans due to how good it feels. Your walls clench unbelievably tightly around him as he feels your body shake. The squeeze, your moans, your body’s reactions to him, and the fact that he’s making you cum sent him tumbling over the edge with you. His thrusts become irregular as he releases in you, still pounding into you as he experiences waves of bliss. He’s never felt such intense pleasure before and his deep moans are accompanied by whimpers from how good it feels. He whispers praises as he starts to get overstimulated, “so pretty fr’me… love you s’much mmm.” You ride out your orgasms together and you eventually slump against his chest, breathing hard.

You’re both exhausted now and you stay like this for a minute or two to catch your breaths. “Are you okay?” Xiao asks quickly as he comes back to his senses. He’s worried he was too rough with you, especially towards the end. “I’m more than okay, love, don’t worry. That was amazing,” you reply with a sultry voice and a smile. Xiao looks down at you and sighs, he smiles back and agrees “that was pretty amazing… I love you.” “I love you too, darling. I’m glad you had a good time too,” you say, sitting up slightly. You lift you hips to pull him out of you as your mixed fluids flow out of you. Xiao thinks it’s insanely hot. He holds you up and lays you down beside him as he grabs a nearby towel to quickly wipe his abs before the liquids drip onto the sheets. He then gets up to get you a clean towel and wipes you down before helping you to the washroom. He offers you water and leaves another clean towel nearby the bed. You’re already curled up in bed and falling asleep by the time he finishes washing up and climbs into bed.

“Love you s’much” you slur out to him. His heart aches from how much he loves you and he kisses your forehead and tells you he loves you too. You fall asleep with your fists pressed between your chests while he cradles under your head with one arm and holds your waist with the other. Both of you smiling as you drift into sleep together under the moon, resting after the first of many nights like this to come.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[breathinginyoursmoke]

"You have a visitor, Tartaglia."

The red-haired man glanced upwards, curiosity flickering in his intense blue eyes. Wriothesley stood before him, hand on his hip, watching him with such an intent. It wouldn't be such a surprise if he snapped Childe's neck if he did anything morally incorrect.

"They were so...persuasive in reaching you. You should be happy to have someone care for you as such."

A million characters flooded his mind with that description. It would've been odd to see any of them at this moment in time.

"I'll only be a few minutes, your excellency." Your voice echoed in his ears, and suddenly, the urge to punch something began to bubble in his gut.

"Ah, no need for such formality," Wriothesley murmured, he tightened his stance. "However, I'd request to keep this interaction 10-20 minutes minimum. This individual is under extreme investigation, as you've probably seen."

"Understood." Your voice was sickeningly understanding and willing.

Wriothesley nodded in your direction, glanced in Childe's with a flash of malignance, and then left.

An odd silence flooded the room, the tapping of your foot being the only sound to fill it.

"So, got yourself into something bigger than you thought, hmm?" You crossed your arms, a sly grin curving across your lips. "And you even got yourself your own room! How quaint."

"And despite me being in maximum security, you came all the way here," he observed, taking in your stance. "What's the play? You gloat a little, piss me off, and we go on the same chase we always have? Or is there something different up your sleeve?" He grabbed one of the iron bars separating your body from his, gripping it with such intensity it began to groan. "After how many years, I can never read you right."

"And that's just a skill you'll have to keep developing," you said in a sing-song manner. "Maybe I was just checking in on you. Being in a maximum prison like this would drive anyone mad."

"Like you would check in on me with the goodness of your heart." His grin was venomous.

You chuckled. "You know, it was way easier to get access to your part of the prison than I thought. Plead to be your spouse, and that's a ticket."

"Oh joyous be. You will never give up, will you?"

"Careful, honey, I have all your dirty laundry I could air."

"I could snap your neck," he offered, "Then no laundry will be dirty."

"I'm not the one behind bars now, am I? Yoyr threats are kind of empty right now."

His nostrils flared before grabbing at the middle part of your shirt. Childe yanked you towards him, and your nose pressed against the iron bars of his cell, the smell of iron clear in the air. "One day you'll learn pressing my buttons isn't a hobby you should keep."

You smirked, eyeing his lips. "I'll never learn."

He kissed you as best he could with the barrier. Teeth and tongue clashing as both wanted to claim dominance. He swears in a language you haven't learned yet as he released you from his grip. "You better leave before they find out you lied to get in here."

You laughed, drunk from the experience of him kissing you. "Oh, wait till they find out I'm actually your spouse."

~

This was an idea I had swimming in my brain and I finally gave in, enjoy!!

[eclipsaria]

Pairing:

Mingyu x reader

Warnings:

Rejection, fluff, angsty background, lemme know if i missed out any

Side characters:

LSRF Sakura, Say My Name Hitomi, actress Yabuki Nako, Seventeen's The8 and Seokmin

W/C:

6 184

Note:

Valentines' day special? Here you goooo!

@stvrrylove @sol3chu

Song:

Seventeen Masterlist

The midday sun casts a warm glow over the bustling campus as students mingle between classes. In the courtyard, tension fills the air as you stand tall and composed, arms crossed and expression unreadable. The boy in front of you fumbles with his words, his face flushed either from the heat or sheer embarrassment. You already know where this is going.

"Y/N, I—"

Before he can finish, you sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry," you say firmly, keeping your tone respectful but clear. "I can't accept your feelings."

Silence hangs between you both. For a moment, it seems like he might say something, but instead, his shoulders slump, and without a word, he turns around and walks off, his steps heavy with disappointment.

You watch him retreat, guilt tugging faintly at you. It’s not as though you enjoy rejecting people—this is just something you've grown used to by now. With a quiet exhale, you turn on your heel and walk away, your footsteps echoing across the pavement.

People know you as Y/N, the “Cold-Hearted Girl” on campus. It’s not entirely accurate, but you can see where the title comes from.

To most, you seem untouchable—a fortress of blank expressions and aloof mannerisms. But you're not heartless. If someone asks for help, you give it without hesitation. You show up when it matters. Around your friends, though? That’s a different story. The stoic front shatters into hyperactive chaos, much to their amusement. They say it’s like seeing two different people. That’s just who you are—complicated but genuine nonetheless.

The "cold-hearted" reputation? That stems from the long line of boys you've turned down without a second thought. Not because your standards are impossibly high—no, it's because you are the standard.

Girls on campus often fangirl over you because you know how to treat them right. And why wouldn’t you? You're a girl yourself. You've always believed that when you finally get into a relationship, it’ll be with someone who truly understands how to treat women with respect and care.

Unfortunately, that expectation has left you willingly single all these years. Every confession you've turned down stems from one glaring reason: the boys never really understood that basic principle.

And so, here you are, in your final year of university—still single and unapologetic.

The university is massive, filled with endless lecture halls, lively common areas, and countless faces that blur together. Yet despite its vastness, your reputation as the "Cold-Hearted Girl" seems to have spread to every corner. It isn't shocking anymore when even students you've never spoken to have opinions about you. Whispers follow you in hallways, assumptions built solely on your aloof demeanor and the trail of rejected confessions you've left behind.

You're used to it.

But what you didn't expect was for one student to break through the sea of onlookers, daring to approach you with a kind and confident tone.

"Y/N," he says, standing in front of you with a genuine smile, "can we be friends?"

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. The sincerity in his voice contrasts sharply with the usual awkwardness of boys who attempt to gain your favor.

You know his technique—it's obvious. He wants to work his way up, starting as friends and slowly building it into a relationship. You've seen it before. Yet, for some reason, there's a small tug in your chest, urging you to give this a chance.

After all, if he's not what you're looking for, you'll reject him when the time comes. As simple as that. No strings attached.

"Fine," you say, maintaining your composed demeanor. "We can be friends."

His smile widens, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Kim Mingyu is my name," he introduces himself with enthusiasm.

You arch a brow. "Y/N," you respond, though he likely already knows that.

For the first time in a long while, you find yourself intrigued. Perhaps this is the start of something different. At the very least, it’s the beginning of a friendship.

The longer your friendship with Mingyu continues, the more confused you become. By now, any normal friendship—or potential relationship—would have involved an exchange of phone numbers. Yet Mingyu shows no desperation to get yours.

He says hi and hello when he passes you with his friends, but that’s it. No sudden requests to meet up after class, no attempts to pull you into deeper conversations. It's almost as if he's deliberately trying to make you seek him out instead—as though he wants you to chase his attention.

The thought makes your blood boil. He was the one who asked to be friends, yet he hasn’t once made an effort to get your number?

By the time the final bell rings one afternoon, you're fed up. You storm toward the exit, weaving through clusters of students until you reach the front gate. Leaning against the metal bars, you cross your arms and wait.

It doesn't take long. Mingyu shows up, his tall frame effortlessly standing out among the crowd. He spots you instantly, smiling warmly as he walks up.

"Hey, Y/N," he greets casually. "Waiting for someone?"

You ignore his question, your expression cold and focused. "Why didn’t you make an effort to get my phone number?"

He blinks twice, clearly caught off guard by your sudden question. A moment passes before he chuckles lightly.

"I didn’t want to pressure you," he explains. "Yeah, I asked to be friends, but that doesn’t give me the right to push you into giving me your number if you're not comfortable with it. We’re friends, sure—but that doesn’t mean we’re the same as, say, two girls swapping numbers without a second thought."

His response leaves you speechless. Never have you met a boy who considered boundaries like this. There's something honest about his words that chimes a bell in your mind—a thought that maybe, just maybe, he's the kind of person you could see yourself in a relationship with.

But you push that thought down quickly. Boys often act right at the beginning, only to reveal their true selves later. You've seen it happen too many times to fall for it now.

Still, you don’t let the moment pass. Without saying anything further, you extend your hand. "Give me your phone."

He complies without question, handing it over with a curious smile. You quickly type in your number and hand it back.

"There," you say flatly. "Now you have it."

His grin softens. "Thanks. I'll use it wisely."

You roll your eyes but can’t deny the faint warmth blooming in your chest. Perhaps this friendship was going to be more interesting than you expected.

Later that night, your phone buzzes with a message.

Mingyu: Hey, just making sure you save my number. It's me, Mingyu.

You stare at the screen for a moment before sighing. He didn't even wait a day to message you—somehow, that made you feel oddly satisfied. You save his contact under his name, your thumb hesitating slightly before tapping back a reply.

You: Got it.

You could’ve left it there, but curiosity gnawed at you. You weren’t one to let things remain surface-level, especially with a boy who piqued your interest yet remained unpredictable. If he was going to stick around as a friend, you needed to know who he really was—not the polite, boundary-respecting image he presented.

You: So... tell me something about yourself. I want to know you better.

You justified it as harmless information gathering. After all, understanding someone’s hobbies and lifestyle often revealed their true character.

Mingyu’s response was quick.

Mingyu: Hmm... I like exercising and cooking.

You blink at the screen. Exercising? That was typical. But cooking? That was unexpected.

Your brows furrow as suspicion creeps in. He could be lying to sound impressive. Plenty of boys tried that angle. Still, you maintain your innocent facade, fingers dancing over the keyboard.

You: Cooking? That’s interesting. Can I try your cooking one day?

There’s a short pause before his reply comes in.

Mingyu: Sure. Why not?

You sit back, biting your lip thoughtfully. Either he’s telling the truth, or he’s setting himself up for a major bluff. Either way, you’d find out soon enough.

You: I’ll hold you to that.

Mingyu: Looking forward to it.

As you put your phone down, a small smile tugs at your lips. Mingyu remained a puzzle, but you were determined to figure him out—even if it meant playing along for now.

The next day during lunch, you sit with your friends, casually stirring your drink as the topic shifts to relationships. You decide to bring up Mingyu, testing the waters to see what they know about him.

"So, I guess I made a new friend recently," you say nonchalantly. "Kim Mingyu."

At his name, your friends light up, exchanging knowing glances.

"Him?" Hitomi grins. "He's super friendly. Outgoing too—talks to everyone, regardless of gender."

"Yeah, I've heard that he's really responsible," Sakura adds thoughtfully. "Apparently, he helps organize events and stuff on campus."

Nako tilts her head, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "And did you know he has a few exes? But here's the weird part—he’s the one who cried during the breakups."

Your hand freezes mid-stir. "He cried?"

"Yeah," Nako confirms. "I heard he got emotional even when he was the one ending things. Doesn't that sound kind of sweet, though?"

You nod absentmindedly, but your focus has completely shifted. Outgoing and responsible? Sure, that wasn't surprising. But someone who cries during breakups—especially when he's the one initiating them? That raises questions. It doesn't fit the typical mold of the boys you've known, who tend to walk away unscathed, without a second thought.

The information gnaws at your curiosity. What kind of person does that? What kind of relationships has he been in?

One thing becomes clear: you need to know more.

But Mingyu can't know you're digging into his past.

Later, as your friends chatter on about their plans for the weekend, you remain silent, already plotting your search. If there was a pattern or some hidden truth about those breakups, you were going to find it. And only then would you truly understand who Kim Mingyu was.

Ever since your first text exchange with Mingyu, he’s kept up the conversation without fail.

Mingyu: Good morning. Don’t skip breakfast today.

Mingyu: Hope you had lunch. Don't overwork yourself, okay?

Mingyu: Study hard, but remember to take breaks in between. Don’t tire yourself out.

His consistent encouragement somehow becomes a daily routine, and you find yourself compelled to respond in kind. If he sends you supportive messages, you feel the need to return the favor.

You: Thanks. You too—don't forget to rest.

You: Hope your day goes well. Keep up the good work.

Day after day, it becomes a never-ending cycle of exchanged encouragement. You don’t find it problematic; in fact, you kind of enjoy it. But your friends? Definitely not.

"I can't stand this anymore," Sakura groans one afternoon, her head dropping dramatically onto the table. "You and Mingyu are stuck in the most wholesome, boring loop I've ever seen."

Hitomi snickers. "Seriously, is this 'friends for life' thing just for show? Aren't either of you going to make a move?"

You roll your eyes. "We’re just friends."

Nako shakes her head. "Yeah, friends who text like they're writing motivational speeches for each other every day."

Before you can respond, Sakura's eyes gleam mischievously. "You know what? Hand over your phone."

"What? No—"

Too late. She snatches your phone from your grasp with surprising speed. "Trust me, I'm doing this for your own good."

"Sakura—"

Ignoring your protests, she quickly types something on your phone, her fingers flying across the screen. When she finally hands it back, you glare at her suspiciously.

"What did you do?" you demand.

"You'll thank me later," she says with a smug grin.

Moments later, your phone buzzes with a reply from Mingyu.

Mingyu: Sure, come to the cooking club tomorrow. I'll let you try my cooking too.

Your eyes widen as you read Sakura's earlier message on your behalf: Can I taste your cooking now?

Heat rises to your face as you shoot Sakura a sharp glare.

"You're unbelievable," you mutter.

Sakura merely grins. "You're welcome."

And now, thanks to her interference, you have an unexpected cooking club appointment with Kim Mingyu.

If you didn’t know that Mingyu was a member of the cooking club, now you do. The thought lingers in your mind as you approach the room. The corridor is quiet, the faint hum of distant student chatter barely audible. When you push the door open, you’re met with a surprising sight.

Mingyu stands alone, tying an apron around his waist. The soft rustle of fabric fills the room until your voice cuts through it.

"Oh, where are the rest of the club members?"

Startled, Mingyu flinches slightly but quickly regains his composure, offering you a sheepish smile.

"There’s no club activity today," he explains. "I just borrowed the key from one of my friends."

Borrowed the key... just for this meeting? Just for you? You quickly shake off the thought, willing yourself not to overanalyze. Keeping your expression neutral, you step closer, finding a spot beside him.

Mingyu watches your approach before chuckling softly. He extends his hand toward you.

"You need something?" you ask, tilting your head.

"Your hand."

You blink, momentarily surprised. Most boys would’ve just grabbed your hand or wrist without a second thought. But Mingyu is asking for permission? That's... new.

Curious, you offer your wrist. His grip is warm but gentle as he guides you to a different spot.

"Here’s better," he says with a grin.

"Oh," you mutter, nodding awkwardly.

Mingyu releases your wrist and turns toward the sink to wash his hands. The sound of running water fills the room.

"What are you feeling to have in your stomach?" he asks over his shoulder.

You think for a moment before shrugging. "Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m okay with any food."

He hums thoughtfully, wiping his hands dry before gathering equipment and utensils. Halfway through setting up, he glances at you.

"Do you cook?"

"No," you admit bluntly.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Really? Not even instant noodles?"

"That doesn't count."

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "Looks like I’ll have to teach you a thing or two someday."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile threatens to break through. Mingyu moves with practiced ease, his presence unexpectedly comforting. And as you watch him prepare the ingredients, you can't help but wonder what else this boy has hidden behind that easygoing demeanor.

Mingyu moves with quiet precision, every step fluid and deliberate. The clinking of utensils and the soft sizzle of ingredients are the only sounds filling the room. You watch as he expertly plates the dish, wiping the edges clean for presentation. When he finally pushes the finished dish in front of you, the aroma wafts up, making your stomach growl faintly.

"There," Mingyu says with a satisfied smile. "Taste it and tell me what you think."

You glance at the beautifully arranged dish — vibrant colors, perfectly cooked ingredients, all plated with care. But a sudden thought interrupts your focus. He cooked this for you. Borrowed the room key from his friend just so you could taste his cooking skills. The effort he put into this isn't something you can take for granted.

Eating it alone feels... wrong.

Without hesitation, you grab another set of utensils and hand them to him.

"Eat with me," you say simply.

Mingyu blinks, momentarily surprised. "Huh? But I made this for you—"

"You cooked it, so you should eat it too," you cut him off. "I’m not finishing this by myself."

A smile slowly spreads across his face, warm and genuine. "Alright, if you insist."

He pulls up a stool beside you, taking the utensils from your hand. As you both dig in, the atmosphere shifts into something comfortable and light.

"How is it?" Mingyu asks, glancing at you after your first bite.

You chew thoughtfully before nodding. "Not bad."

He laughs. "Not bad? That's all I get?"

You shrug. "I’m not an expert, but it’s definitely better than anything I could make."

"Considering you don’t even cook instant noodles, I’ll take that as a compliment," he teases.

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. Mingyu’s presence is surprisingly easy to be around, and for the first time in a while, sharing a meal with someone feels... nice.

Sitting at the table with your friends, Mingyu, and his two friends, Minghao and Seokmin, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of chatter and laughter. Everyone clicks effortlessly, and the once separate social circles have now merged seamlessly. It's nice — really nice.

But as the conversation flows, your attention drifts toward Mingyu. He’s chatting animatedly with your friends, treating them with the same warmth and respect he shows you. There’s no difference. No special treatment. And somehow, that bothers you.

You know his reputation is as green as a lush forest — kind, respectful, and charming to everyone regardless of gender. It’s part of what made you curious about him in the first place. But now, a selfish thought creeps in, one you didn’t expect.

Why can’t he treat only me that way?

The realization makes your stomach twist. How selfish of you to even think that. You barely know him, and yet here you are, wanting to be the only one he treats like a queen. You bite your lip, mentally scolding yourself.

Get it together, you tell yourself, masking your emotions with a blank expression.

But someone notices.

Minghao’s sharp eyes catch your fleeting reaction, though he doesn’t say anything at the table. The next day, however, he corners you after class, his expression serious.

"Can we talk?" he asks without preamble.

You blink in confusion but nod, following him to a quieter corner of the campus. The moment you're out of earshot from others, Minghao crosses his arms and cuts straight to the point.

"Are you playing with Mingyu’s personality?"

Your jaw drops. "What?"

"You heard me," he says bluntly. "If you’re just toying with him, back off now. Mingyu doesn’t deserve that."

Anger flares in your chest. "I’m not playing with him."

"Then why do you look so conflicted whenever you’re around him?"

You clench your fists, realizing there’s no point in hiding anything from Minghao. So you tell him everything — from your initial suspicion about Mingyu's seemingly perfect treatment of girls to the confusion you feel now.

"I just don’t get it," you admit. "Most guys either treat girls poorly or fake it until they get bored. But Mingyu… he’s different. And it made me suspicious. I thought maybe he was hiding something."

Minghao's expression softens slightly. He sighs, leaning against the wall. "I get it. You’re not the first person to think that."

"What do you mean?"

Minghao’s expression softens after your confession, but it’s clear he's still holding something back. He leans in slightly, his voice lowering as if to ensure no one else overhears.

“You know, Mingyu’s exes weren’t exactly... innocent either,” he says carefully. “They were using his kindness. He’s always been the type to spoil his girlfriends, always saying yes to everything they asked because he couldn’t say no. That’s part of who he is, and it’s not like he wants to be taken advantage of.”

You blink, your mind racing. “Wait… so his exes weren’t exactly genuine?”

Minghao nods. “Yeah. They loved the attention, the gifts, the fact that he couldn’t say no to them. And when he did try, when he tried to set boundaries, they’d make it difficult. Always making him feel guilty. It took a lot of talks with Seokmin and me before he finally broke up with any of them.”

Your chest tightens. “So… he wasn’t the one to end things on his own?”

“No. It took us talking him through it, reminding him that it wasn’t healthy, that he deserved better. And even then, after each breakup, he’d cry. Every time.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Mingyu, so genuine, caught in a cycle of giving too much, trusting too easily. You hadn’t realized the emotional toll it had taken on him, the pressure of constantly being the ‘perfect’ boyfriend, only to be hurt when he gave everything he could.

“But he always tries again,” Minghao continues, his voice more somber. “And it sucks, because he genuinely wants to treat people well, but people take advantage of it. And that’s why... that’s why we keep telling him to stop putting others before himself.”

You swallow, trying to process everything. Mingyu’s kindness wasn’t a flaw, but it had become his vulnerability. And now you understood the depth of his sincerity — how much he’d suffered because of it.

“I didn’t know,” you finally murmur, feeling the weight of everything you’ve just learned.

Minghao gives you a pointed look. “Yeah, well, now you do. So if you’re going to be around him, just... don’t mess with his feelings. He’s been hurt enough, and you’re the first one who hasn’t treated him like a doormat.”

You nod, your thoughts tangled in the newfound understanding of Mingyu. It feels like a heavy responsibility, but it’s also a realization of how much he deserves — someone who sees him, not just for his kindness, but for the person he truly is, beneath all the layers he’s built to protect himself from being hurt again.

“I won’t hurt him,” you promise softly, feeling the weight of your words.

Minghao nods, and for the first time, his expression lightens, a small, approving smile crossing his face. “Good. Just don’t play games with him. He’s been through enough.”

As you watch Minghao walk away, the quiet resolve in your chest grows. You know you’re going to have to be careful now — but more than that, you know you’re going to have to be honest with yourself, and with Mingyu. He deserves that much.

It is definitely not your job to say sorry for his exes, but you just felt the need to. You didn’t owe him anything, yet something tugged at your chest, urging you to reach out. So, you did. In the middle of the night, you texted him to meet you at the nearest park. It took him a while to respond, but eventually, he agreed. Now, here you were, sitting on one of the swings, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you swung slowly back and forth, contemplating what you had just asked.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, and soon, Mingyu jogged into view, his hair slightly disheveled, his breath a little short. "Hey, you asked for me?" he called out, and you smiled as he got closer.

You didn’t waste any time. The words you’d been meaning to say for a while now slipped out without warning. "Do you like me, as a woman?"

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief moment, there was only silence between you two. He didn’t immediately answer, his brows furrowed as if processing your question. He didn’t look uncomfortable, just... taken aback.

Instead of replying directly, he stepped closer and asked, "Allow me to push you?"

You paused. You didn’t want to seem desperate or push for an answer that might not be what you were hoping for. So, you nodded quietly, letting him move behind you. His hand rested gently on your back, and with a soft push, you were swinging back and forth in bigger motions now.

The silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft creak of the swing. After a few moments, Mingyu finally spoke again, his voice quieter this time.

"No... at least not at first. I know who you are, even before we met. Your reputation, and all that," he began, his tone almost distant as if recalling the past. "But when I saw you rejecting all those confessions, something in me just... wanted to be with you. And slowly, as time went on, I realized I like you now."

You stopped the swing with your feet, the motion coming to a halt as you turned your head back to look at him. Your heart pounded harder now, the question that had been on your mind since the beginning demanding to be asked. "So why didn’t you confess?"

He smiled, and his eyes softened. "Because I know you don’t like me... as a man."

That hit you harder than you expected, the words lingering in the cool air between you two. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of embarrassment, your cheeks warming slightly as you shyly turned your gaze away.

Mingyu, seeing your reaction, gently continued to push the swing, not rushing you, just letting the moment settle in the way it needed to. You stayed quiet, letting him do the work, and for once, it felt like the right thing to do.

You didn’t tell him about how Minghao had shared with you the stories of Mingyu’s exes, and you weren’t sure if you ever would. The way Mingyu opened up to you, the way his words now hung in the air between you two, made it feel like the past didn’t matter. Still, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that had been growing inside of you—the change in how you were acting toward Mingyu. After hearing all that, you couldn’t deny it. The way you treated him had shifted, and it was becoming more than just friendship. It made you nervous that he might start to suspect something was off.

But you didn’t want Mingyu to always be the one to initiate everything, to always be the one putting in the effort to keep this friendship alive. You couldn’t just stand back and let him do all the work, not anymore.

So, as your swing reached its nearest point to the grass, you stopped it with your feet and turned to face Mingyu. The air around you was still, the park quiet except for the faint sounds of night creatures in the distance. With a soft smile, you said, "Please wait for me."

It wasn’t a demand, but a quiet request that felt more genuine than anything you had said in a long time. Mingyu halted his movements immediately, the silence between you two now heavy with the weight of your words.

You stood up from the swing and turned to face him fully. The uncertainty you had felt earlier still lingered, but this time, you could feel your heart steadier in your chest. "I get a feeling," you continued, your voice more certain now, "but it’s not clear. So I need you to wait for me."

Mingyu blinked, his eyes softening as he processed your words. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His smile returned, slower this time, but warm. With a gentle nod, he replied, "I’ll wait."

It was simple, but it felt like an unspoken promise, one that you didn’t realize you needed until now. You smiled back at him, the weight on your shoulders easing, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you were finally taking control of this connection, no longer letting the past or the uncertainties dictate the present.

As the days passed, you began including Mingyu more often, not just during hangouts, but also in casual moments like eating together with your other friends. You noticed yourself paying a little extra attention to him, maybe more than you had before. Whether it was a small gesture or simply noticing how he reacted to certain things, you tried to understand the feelings building inside you. You wanted clarity, but more than that, you wanted to be certain of what it was you felt for him.

It wasn’t long before the final day of the course came around—February 14th. You had decided, with a determined heart, that you would finally give him an answer, one way or another.

The idea of making chocolates was something you never imagined doing. You weren’t exactly the kitchen type, and it wasn’t your natural habitat. But here you were, desperately trying to make something special for Mingyu, even if it was far from easy. You almost set the kitchen on fire a couple of times, and you had more failed attempts than you cared to admit. Sakura had to step in a few times to stop your little culinary disasters. Your hands were sore from all the work, and there were moments when you seriously considered just buying chocolates from the store to save yourself the trouble. But you couldn’t. You had to try, even if it meant countless mistakes. It was something you wanted to do—something that felt personal.

Your friends were there to cheer you on, and despite the frustration, you pushed yourself forward. In the end, after what felt like an eternity, you stood in front of your final result: heart-shaped chocolates. You gazed down at them, your heart beating a little faster despite your exhaustion.

"Looking good!" Nako exclaimed, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of doubt. They might look fine, but would they taste good? That was the question that weighed on your mind.

The thought hit you like a bolt of lightning. What if Mingyu doesn’t like sweet chocolates? What if he prefers bitter ones? Panic settled in quickly, and you looked at your friends for reassurance.

Hitomi caught on and laughed. "This is definitely a crush you’re dealing with, isn’t it? You’re trying so hard to make something perfect for him."

You blushed, your face heating up as you pouted. “I’m serious! You guys aren’t helping.”

But your friends weren’t about to stop. They teased you lightly, their laughter filling the room, making it hard to stay upset. Nako chimed in, “It’s adorable. You’re so nervous!”

You sighed, slumping a little in defeat. But even through all the teasing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe they were right. It was a crush, wasn’t it? You just wanted to get it right, to show Mingyu that you cared in your own way, even if it wasn’t perfect.

Valentine's Day had finally arrived, and with it, the weight of what you were about to do. Your bag felt heavier than usual, even though it only held the light chocolate box you had so carefully made. The box seemed small and harmless, but the anticipation of handing it to Mingyu made everything feel much more significant. The nerves were overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your mind: "Should I say, 'Hey, for you'? Or 'I made extras, so you can have it'? Or 'I made for everyone, you too'? Or just... give it to him without saying anything?"

The confusion only added to the stress, but the most ridiculous part was how little you cared about your graduation. You had worked so hard for this moment, yet all you could think about was confessing to Mingyu. It was your first real confession, and the pressure was unbearable. Your friends had encouraged you. Even his friends had given you their blessing. They said, "How hard could it be?"

...It turned out to be very hard.

You stood in front of Mingyu, who had agreed to follow you when you asked him to meet you outside. Yet, here you were, staring at him, the box still in your bag, and no words coming out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You felt frozen, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Mingyu asked, his voice gentle, concerned.

You weren’t okay. Not at all. How could you be? But the truth was, if you didn’t do this now, you didn’t know when you’d ever get the chance again. Graduation was a turning point, and afterward, who knew when you'd have a moment like this? It was now or never.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a loud voice cut through the air. A classmate of yours called your name, reminding you to change into your graduation outfit. It was a small distraction, but it was enough to push you forward.

Biting your lip, you muttered a quick, "Okay," and reached into your bag, pulling out the chocolate box. You handed it to Mingyu, your hands trembling slightly. He looked down at the box, then back up at you, confused. He clearly wasn’t expecting this, but there was something else in his gaze—a flicker of hope, maybe?

"I said yes right now," you said quickly, your words coming out in a rush, almost as if they were trying to escape all at once. "To your confession a month ago. I like you too now."

Before he could respond, before the shock could settle into his expression, you turned and rushed off, leaving him standing there, speechless and frozen.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. But in your heart, you knew that you had said what you needed to say. And maybe, just maybe, everything would be different now.

The graduation ceremony had passed in a whirlwind of excitement, congratulations, and heartfelt moments. It was finally time to take photos with your family and friends, capturing the culmination of years of hard work. Everyone was happy—your family, proud of everything you had achieved; your friends, joking and laughing about how they still had a few months before their graduation but already feeling the weight of what was to come. They teased about how they'd still want a girls' stayover, even in the midst of busy times ahead. Despite the looming pressure of the future, it was a moment of pure joy and celebration.

Yet, in the midst of all the happiness, your mind kept wandering to one person—Mingyu. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was, but the thought was fleeting. Just as you tried to push it away, your course teacher called everyone, friends, and family, to gather for one last photo, to capture the memories of this chapter of your life.

You quickly joined your friends and family, adjusting your position and preparing for the shot. But just as you were about to pose, you felt someone come up behind you, a familiar warmth pressing against your back. It didn’t take long for Mingyu’s voice to reach your ear.

"Wish I could kiss you right now," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin as his arms found their way around your waist.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, a smile spreading across your face. The moment was so surreal, yet everything about it felt right. "Then what are you waiting for?" you teased, turning your head slightly.

Before either of you could say anything else, the camera clicked, capturing the exact moment when your lips met in a soft, spontaneous kiss. The photo was taken in that split second, a beautiful and impromptu memory that would last forever.

Your teacher, trying to hold back a smile, jokingly scolded you both for kissing, but everyone around you laughed. "Alright, alright," she said, "Let’s take another one."

This time, with no hesitation, you leaned into Mingyu, your face lighting up with a smile that could only be described as the most genuine one you’d ever had. Mingyu smiled back, his hand still resting on your waist, as the camera clicked once more.

In that second photo, you could feel the warmth between you two, the promise of something beautiful that was just beginning to unfold. When the shot was over, the world seemed to slow down, and everything felt perfect.

The graduation ceremony came to a close, and as everyone dispersed, mingling and chatting with loved ones, you found yourself standing beside Mingyu, his hand reaching for yours. You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the comforting warmth and security that his touch provided. It was simple, yet everything you had ever wanted.

You looked up at him, a quiet smile on your lips. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere, “for approaching me.”

Mingyu squeezed your hand, his eyes full of affection. "I’m glad I did," he said, his voice just as quiet but filled with meaning.

And in that moment, you both knew this was just the beginning of something new, something full of promise. As your hands remained interlocked, the future no longer felt uncertain. With Mingyu by your side, everything was going to be alright.

Part 2?

[localtelephonebooth]

Thoughts on Kieran’s relationship with Ogerpon as a previously obsessive teenager:

(I did not proof read this. I just woke up, had the urge, and now it’s here.)

Kieran, to me, is a very relatable character. He is a shy, and quiet teenager in a small town. He lacks friendships and possibly meaningful connections with those who do spend time with him. He’s probably isolated due to the fact that he lacks a phone. Any friends he does make are likely school based only. So, Kieran latches on to anything he can to feel less alone in life. And of course he latches onto Ogerpon. Ogerpon is just like him. A sad “monster” all isolated and alone in the mountains. I’m certain that Kieran has fantasized about meeting Ogerpon and getting into wild adventures with her. I did the same thing with characters I enjoyed.

Princess Luna, for example (sorry to whiplash anyone with that), was a character I heavily related to. She was alone and isolated due to her previous actions. She struggled with fitting in and having a healthy relationship with her sister for awhile. To say I didn’t form an obsession with a character who understood my feelings would be a lie. I think Kieran is the same.

He became obsessed with Ogerpon. He become obsessed with the ideas he crafted of him and Ogerpon. In a way, that fantasy was VERY real to him. So when we come around and lie about meeting Ogerpon, and inevitably become friends with her behind his back, of course he freaks out! We stole his fantasy of him and Ogerpon! And that’s the key point here that people tend to not realize. We didn’t steal Ogerpon from Kieran, we just stole his fantasy and made it our reality.

With my obsession with princess Luna (again, whiplash), if anyone said they loved princess Luna it was a fucking attack on me. Princess Luna was my best friend, and she could only love me! Everyone else was just a jealous thief.

As an adult looking back on this mindset, it’s horribly embarrassing. It’s a mindset I carried into my real life, when I actually started making friends, that ruined so much for me. I lost friends because I was so angry that my fantasies were not reciprocated. I really do think Kieran does the same. He grows sad and frustrated over what happened with Ogerpon. His fantasy is just a fantasy, and that’s fucking with him. So naturally, he finds a new fantasy to, hopefully in his mind, make a reality. And so he chose battling and winning against you. The thing we used to “steal” Ogerpon away from him (Even though Kieran technically suggested battling for Ogerpon, I don’t doubt he used it to rationalize why she didn’t want to come with him). To him, being the best battler will solve everything. Kieran will get his revenge, he’ll finally be recognized, everyone can’t lie to him because they fear or admire him, and he’ll prove to Ogerpon he was the right choice.

.

Now, I want to say something about Kieran. A detail that, for whatever reason, people don’t like to acknowledge: He’s just a kid.

I’m not saying “He’s a widdle baby. He can do no harm!” No, Kieran’s an asshole. He became a bully. I can have empathy for his emotions, but not excuse his actions. He’s a dumb and entitled teenager with issues. And, quite obviously, he doesn’t really have a way to deal with his issues in a healthy manner (seriously, his school is based solely on battling. Anyone who’s going or gone to a specialized school can understand how toxic people can get in that type of environment. And don’t even get me started on the incompetence of the adults in Kieran’s school).

Kieran is a teenage boy growing up right now. He’s got a lot to work through, and a lot of people he’s gotta confront about his behavior. He was an asshole, a bully, and genuinely a bad person for minute. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t growing past that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve recognition for his growth. You can recognize someone has changed and not forgive them.

Kieran is a really intriguing character and holds a valuable lesson in obsession. And I really wish people would recognize that he’s not just an irredeemable prick or an innocent little guy. He’s a kid learning. He’s going to make really stupid and bad mistakes. Just like how I, and probably you reading this, did.

Anyways, hopefully we see him interact with the Area Zero buddies. I think those three have amazing lessons that Kieran can learn from. Maybe Kieran can teach them a few things too!

[oliviablancmom]

"Enemies - Pablo Gavi (Part III)"

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x OC! character

A/N: These two decided to talk to me tonight. As I said before, it is challenging to write them, but fun. I loved writing this chapter because they begin to have realizations about each other's presence while the enemy side is screaming lol. Anyway, for obvious reasons, some game events will have to be changed for the sake of the plot. I hope you enjoy it!!"

2021

Florence was attentively reading the papers her grandfather had given her, marking them as he had taught her, completely focused on the task, so she didn’t hear her father entering her room. The man watched her closely and then approached, gently touching her shoulder to avoid startling her.

“What’s all this?” he asked curiously, trying to get a glimpse of the documents. Florence looked at him, finally noticing the older man’s presence, who smiled and placed a kiss on her head. Florence smiled at the gesture.

“Hi, Dad. These are just some club reports that Grandpa wanted me to review before starting college...” Florence replied with a smile, trying to ease the concern she saw in her father’s eyes. She knew that he was still uneasy about her involvement in the business, but there was nothing he could say to change her mind.

"Don't you think this is too much? By the way, I don't think we've ever talked about this directly, but are you sure this is what you want? Your grandfather can't force you to follow this path." The man said in a firmer tone, and Florence suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. The relationship between them wasn't great, and she often felt like a pawn caught between the two, a means for one to get back at the other, even if it wasn't intentional—that's how she felt.

"Of course, this is what I want. And it's not like I'm taking on anything tomorrow. I have a long way to go before I'm considered capable, and not just someone receiving an inheritance," Florence said firmly. "I'm just learning; it's no big deal." Her father let out a nasal chuckle, looking at her with pride.

"I know, but your grandfather can be quite harsh when he wants to. I...I just don't want you to push yourself too hard." He crossed his arms with concern, and Florence felt a tightness in her chest. She understood her father's worries; she never quite understood what had happened between the two of them, but they both carried wounds that were completely visible to her. Florence smiled once more, hoping to soothe her father's heart, got up from the bed, and walked over to hug him.

"You guys are being so dramatic about this. It's no big deal, and I'm fine, I promise." Florence assured him, and the man breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're right, and you can count on me. But don't tell your grandfather I said that," he added, laughing, and Florence joined in. The older man gave her one last kiss on the head and soon left the room, leaving her alone.

She understood her father's insecurities. Many of his were her own, but she also didn't want to disappoint her grandfather, who had already invested so much time and effort in her. She just wanted to make the older man proud for having seen something in her.

**********************************************

Gavi bitterly regretted accepting the invitation to that party. Not that he didn't like it, but he just wasn't in the mood to enjoy himself that day. So, he limited himself to sitting on the couch outside the house, fiddling with his phone.

"Wow, Gavira, you're so welcoming and friendly," said Cris, his friend, laughing as he approached the couch where the player was lying. Gavi looked up at him, shrugging, himself didn't understand his lack of enthusiasm for being there.

"You should be celebrating your call-up to the national team," Cris continued, trying to cheer him up.

"I am, internally... Who are all these people by the way?" Gavi asked, referring to the others present in the house. "I thought I was your only friend."

"Ha! Well, friends and friends who bring other friends. At this point, I have no idea who they are either," Cris said, looking around making Gavi laugh. "I'm going back inside. Please go enjoy the party, there are plenty of girls around wanting your attention.

Gavi just nodded, rolling his eyes at the last comment.

After his friend disappeared again inside the house, Gavi took a few more minutes to mentally prepare himself to muster the courage to interact with other people. He got up, heading inside the house, greeting some familiar faces, and others he had no idea who were. But despite his efforts, he was bored.

The girl incessantly talking in front of him only heightened his desire to leave, and he was seriously considering running away, especially as every two seconds he saw a phone camera pointed at him. He sighed internally, frustrated. He didn’t want to look like an idiot; his friend would kill him if he mistreated any guest.

His attention on the girl in front of him completely vanish when he noticed someone in the distance.

"This has to be a joke..." he murmured to himself, his eyes focused on the woman quickly running to the stairs. It couldn’t be; his mind was probably playing tricks on him. He blinked a few times, but the person didn’t disappear. He looked at the girl in front of him, who was watching him with confusion, trying to figure out what had caught his attention.

"Excuse me, I need to check something..." Gavi apologized and headed up the stairs.

The upstairs was silent compared to the downstairs. He walked cautiously down the hallway as if a monster could appear at any moment to attack him. And well, technically, it was a monster he was following. The door at the end of the hallway was open, and he could hear the voice coming from inside. He was sure it wasn’t a hallucination; he would recognize that damn voice anywhere—it was imprinted in his mind.

He approached slowly and leaned against the doorframe, seeing the girl on the phone, her voice tearful as she paced back and forth, completely unaware of his presence.

"But I finished everything and left it all ready..." she cried. The sight caught him off guard. Gavi swallowed, embarrassed and regretting following her. He commanded his legs to turn around, but they ignored him, preventing him from moving.

'Great,' he thought.

The girl ended the call, after many tearful agreements, hung up the phone, and threw it on the bed.

"Tough day?" Gavi said before he could even think, mentally chiding himself for drawing the girl’s attention. She turned around startled as she look at him, and Gavi wished she hadn’t, as her red, tear-streaked face caused him some discomfort, an effect he couldn’t understand and decided to ignore. Whatever the reason for her crying, she deserved it. God, if his mom or sister heard him, he’d be in trouble.

"What... Are you following me?" she asked, confusion crossing her face. As if realizing whose presence she was in, she quickly crossed her arms in front of her body and raised her chin in pride. Gavi chuckled; but at the moment no matter how much she tried to appear indifferent, he was seeing right through her.

"In your dreams, querida. You’d be the last person in the world I’d stalk. You’re not that interesting," Gavi retorted, using the same words she had used against him. God, why did every word she said stick in his mind?

"Then leave me alone," she said, irritated. Gavi laughed. What was this? Didn’t she have any words of offense for him? It was somehow disappointing.

She grunted and walked over to the bed, picking up her phone. Her firm steps headed toward the door to leave the room, but he, impulsively, blocked her way. Fury gleamed in the girl's eyes, and she hit the player’s chest, shoving him. The action caught Gavi off guard, and he immediately grabbed her arms, feeling that little shock again from the contact with her skin.

"You can curse and insult me, but you can’t handle it when it’s the other way around?" Gavi grumbled, his face inches from hers. He could see every detail of her face with precision—the bright, swollen eyes, the discreet freckles hidden under a layer of makeup he was sure she didn’t need.

"Oh, did I really hurt you, didn’t I?" And there it was, the challenge in her eyes, the arrogance, and something he couldn’t quite explain, but it shine intensely in the girl's gaze. Unconsciously, Gavi decided he would push her to her limits to see that reaction again. The tension between them was so intense it could be cut with a knife. "Let me go. I could end your career," she snarled, and Gavi couldn’t help but laugh.

"What, are you going to ask your fan friends to ramp up the insults? Nothing I can’t handle. And don’t play innocent; you started this," she narrowed her eyes.

"You have no idea..." she whispered, a victorious little smile appearing at the corner of her lips. Gavi furrowed his brows, confused. But before he could say anything, they were interrupted.

"Florence," someone called from the hallway. Gavi turned, seeing another girl watching the situation in shock. He turned back to the girl in front of him, still holding her arms.

"Florence," he whispered, realizing as if he had just put together a puzzle. He had the voice, the image, and now the name. As if she understood what he was thinking, she rolled her eyes and, with a sudden motion, pulled her arm away and shoved him out of her way. She tossed her hair over her shoulders and confidently walked towards the girl who had called her.

"Are you out of your mind?" He heard the friend whisper, looking over her shoulder at the player observing the sly interaction between the two.

"It’s nothing," the girl said in a nonchalant tone as she pulled her friend down the hallway, disappearing from his view. Gavi stood stunned, still trying to process the encounter and suddenly he couldn't wait for the next el classico.

**********************************************

March 20, 2022

Florence took a deep breath, soaking in the energy of the field, the stadium filling up with fans—God, she missed this so much. Since she started college and studying with her grandfather, her trips to the stadium had been drastically reduced. Now, almost all her time was devoted to her grandfather's office and the administrative sector of Ciudad Real Madrid.

She had almost forgotten the feeling of being inside a stadium. Okay, maybe she was being a bit dramatic, but it felt like years had passed since her last visit. Now, as she could no longer watch the games from the stands with the fans, being on the field with some staff was the closest she could get to the excitement she loved. Even though she had to act professionally now and couldn't shout or curse at the players, especially the rivals, so she would have to do it mentally.

And she had used that trick a lot, since the end of the last year, especially during the games of the club that shall not be named. She cursed and sent all possible negative energy, hoping to satisfy her need to do it personally, particularly regarding a certain player. She even hoped he could hear that she was still rooting against him. Even during the national team games at the end of the year, she had to resort to mental curses, as the moment she cursed the blaugrana player, she received several angry looks from the fans of the national team who had adopted him.

So as soon as she saw him entering the tunnel leading to the field, all her excitement about being back faded, replaced by irritability. And as if he knew exactly that, the moment his eyes fell on her, a mocking smile spread across his face, his eyebrows coming together in surprise and recognition.

"You know, I was sure we’d win today’s game, but now that I see you’re finally here, I’m absolutely certain," he said in a lower tone, so only she could hear.

Florence took a deep breath, trying to contain the ironic response that came to her mind, and fixed her eyes on the tablet in her hand, her fingers gripping the edge tightly.

"Nothing for me?" He insisted, and she finally looked at him, feeling her face heat up and an uncomfortable feeling near her temples, he was definitely a pain in the ass. The player’s eyes scanned her face as if he had noticed her reaction, and the smirk grew.

Florence wanted to shout and curse him, but she had to settle for an eye roll that seemed to amuse the player, who ran onto the field for warm-up. He was lucky she had to behave, or she would have used up all the curses she had been saving.

The match was a disaster for Real Madrid. Florence had to leave her position next to the club reporter on the sidelines as her fan side started to take over during the game, and now she was watching the rest in the tunnel entrance that led from the locker rooms to the field.

And she couldn’t believe it, simply couldn’t. Anger burned inside her, not just from witnessing the defeat and the embarrassing game her team was playing, but because the midfielder’s words burned in her brain. The implication that she was a good luck charm for him gave her a cold shiver and a rage that heated her face. Her mind even searched for the results of the matches she had attended and which were good for him.

The dissatisfaction in the stands grew with each passing minute of the match. Furious, some people were even leaving before the game ended—it was a disaster.

Florence huffed again as she heard the fans near the tunnel cursing each staff member who passed by, as if the blame for the defeat was on them rather than the players on the field. She understood the frustration because she shared many of the same feelings.

However, the comments began to get heavier. Looking up, she saw a group of men cursing her grandfather. She frowned, not understanding why, and they noticed her attention, laughing and commenting among themselves.

The young woman gritted her teeth. She knew the reason well enough without needing to look; she had developed a sixth sense for sensing the player before seeing him. She wondered what sin she had committed in another life to deserve such karma.

"You can’t stay here," she said without looking at him. "This could result in penalties for your club, and well, I’ll make sure that happens," she said with false confidence. Gavi laughed, a deep and genuine laugh that made Florence turn to him, their eyes meeting. She furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes scanning the player’s face, and Florence felt something strange besides irritation at him mocking her.

"I was just getting my shorts from the locker room, and I’m heading back to the bench. There’s no prohibition on that. But fine, i know that you can’t win on the field, so your team need to interfere with the referees and all other means..." he replied, looking around. Florence narrowed her eyes at him.

"That’s a serious accusation..." Florence tried to stay indifferent, turning her attention back to the field. And great, another goal. The stadium roared with boos, not at the blaugrana team but at their own. Florence watched everything, perplexed and a bit nauseous.

"See? I told you that you’d bring us luck today..." Gavi commented right next to her. Florence turned, pushing him away. He laughed. Before she could say anything, she was surprised by a cup being thrown in her direction. Florence looked up at the stands, the group of men from before had an angry look for her.

"You’re fraternizing with the enemy. That’s why we’re losing." Florence decided to ignore it, but the curses only increased.

"You’re losing because you’re awful." Florence widened her eyes at the player who was laughing at the group, and it was done. It was as if he had poked a swarm of bees. Boos, curses, drinks being thrown at them, security started approaching, noticing the escalating anger. She really was determined to ignore the situation, not even fighting with the hand pulling her into the tunnel. But when her grandfather was mentioned, it was the breaking point for her.

"Your grandfather is ruining our club," the fan yelled.

"Florentino made this club what it is,"

Florence shouted back, her blood boiling as she exchanged insults with the Madrid fan who cursed her with every possible name. Security approach to try to calm things down, especially when the fan threatened to jump from the stands. Florence heard the referee’s whistle from afar, and by the time she realized it, chaos had erupted in every corner of the stadium. When a cup hit her head, she felt arms around her waist pulling her away.

She was so immersed in her anger that she felt as if the world around her was spinning out of control. The drink thrown on her clung to her clothes, and the sensation of being completely soaked only added to her frustration. When the sound of the boos became deafening, she finally snapped out of her angry trance.

'shit...' The player’s low murmur brought her back to reality. She wriggled free from his grip and pushed him away with a force that surprised her. A member of Barcelona’s staff approached, pulling the player away. Florence then looked at the TV screen, seeing the final minutes of that disastrous match. Her phone vibrated incessantly, but she had no energy to care. The realization of her actions and their consequences began to weigh on her, and the sense of shame and regret was almost overwhelming.

"What were you thinking?" Her grandfather’s harsh voice sent shivers down her spine. It wasn’t fear—Florence had never feared her grandfather in any way—but the tone he used was that of a businessman, not her grandfather, and honestly, she didn’t feel prepared to face that version of him. "Has everyone lost their minds today?" he shouted, and Florence finally looked at him. "What were you thinking?" he repeated. "You should be setting an example. How can I trust you if when you should be working you’re talking to opposing players and fighting with our own fans?"

"I was defending myself..." Florence questioned.

"You were immature, it’s disappointing..." The older man said, and silence cut through the air. Florence could feel tears in her eyes, and she knew they were there by the quickness with which the older man averted his gaze from her face. "Your father was right. Go home, Florence, you’re done for today."

The younger woman looked at him confused. She didn’t know that the two men talked; they did their best to ignore each other whenever possible. Florence opened her mouth to question him, but the man gave no space, just walking past her with a look of disappointment. Florence watched him head to the locker rooms, but before he left, he stopped and took a good look at Gavi. If he was intimidated by the older man, he didn’t show it; his face remained impassive as he stared back at the man, while the staff member from his team was dying beside him.

Florence’s heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. The look of pity from the communications head was enough to break her. She turned and walked away from the situation before anyone saw her break down.

Florence had a mix of feelings—still angry about her confrontation with the fans but anxious about the disappointed look she received from her grandfather. She understood his side, and she was genuinely dedicated and took her duties seriously, so her own reaction had been a surprise to her as well.

But then realization hit her. The reason she lost her composure in the first place was because of him... She was fine until he showed up and provoked her with his taunts. Just his presence was enough to irritate her, and if he hadn’t provoked her minutes before, she wouldn’t have exploded at the fans... And with perfect timing, Florence felt a tight grip on her arm.

"What the fuck... What’s with you constantly holding me?" Florence asked angrily, turning to face him. The action took him by surprise, but he quickly masked it with a smirking.

"In the end, it was really your club..." He said, referring to their conversation when they met at the event last year.

"As the part of ruining your career, so leave me alone," Florence felt her voice breaking, and this made tears come back to her eyes. She mentally cursed herself for breaking down right in front of the player. "This is your fault," Florence accused, shoving him.

"Mine? You asked for it, remember? Every time you insulted me..." Florence rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a small smile on her lips.

"You’re so affected by this; is it that easy to get into your head?" Florence asked with humor. "If it is, then what they say about you isn’t true..." The player furrowed his brows, and Florence caught a glimpse of confusion on his face.

"Pablo!" The Barcelona staff member called the player, looking furious. "What’s so hard about staying where you’re supposed to be?" The man asked seriously. "Come on, before you get a warning." The player didn’t even question it and just followed the older man, but not before glancing once more at Florence, his expression twisted in confusion.

**********************************************

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I revised it several times, but there's always something that slips through. Ah, I needed to introduce Flo's life as an heiress because it was necessary lol. I'm excited for the next chapter. Idk if you guys understand, but when there are asterisks dividing the chapter, it automatically signifies a passage of time, days, and a change in point of view.

[cinnbar-bun]

One Piece Characters w/ an S/O who celebrates Ramadan pt. 2

Characters: Zoro, Ace, Mihawk (all requested, thank you <3)

Rating: SFW

Notes: Muslim!GN!Reader. So yeah, obvy talking about religious beliefs and practices- if those make you uncomfortable please feel free to skip <3

A/n: cultural notes at the bottom in case you didn't know/just curious about some of the terms here.

Part 1 here

Zoro 

At first, he’s confused why you would do such a thing, but when you explain the significance of the month, he’s pretty impressed. 

It’s a test of resolve, discipline, and reflection- and, well, Zoro’s always looking for a new way to test himself and get better. 

No eating and drinking water? Well, he can do that, no problem. It also makes him want to see how far he can push himself in his exercise regiment without having to drink. 

His drinking though, well, it definitely hits him a bit harder than he would like to admit. He does have the urge to just guzzle three barrels of rum but he’s tryna be good, so he’ll do something to manage. 

Honestly the type to sleep all day or be working out when fasting. I don’t think he’d bother to get up for suhur either, he just sleeps through it and says he’ll deal with it later. 

This month will be where he is very reflective and open about his feelings or emotions with you. He’s pretty good about clearing his mind and meditating usually, but especially now he will be even more conscious about his reflections. It actually surprised you how much he was holding in. 

Takes this very seriously, 10000%, doesn’t let anyone or anything break his concentration or yours. 

Ace

Similar to his younger brother, Ace doesn’t know much about Ramadan, and the idea baffles him. 

But, he’s way more open to learning and trying to understand it better. 

He’s still failing immediately, poor guy. 

If he’s not shoveling down food in the afternoon or falling asleep right in the middle of eating, he’s probably gonna be casually drinking and going ‘oops, I forgot’ all day. 

All day. Almost every thirty minutes. Marco is thinking of checking if Ace is suffering from early onset dementia. 

OKAY LISTEN, IT’S THE ATTEMPT. THE ATTEMPT WAS THERE!!!

And even if his ‘fasting’ is uh, pretty shoddy, he does do his best to take care of you and support you (even if he’s about to offer you food or water every few minutes). 

He’s very intrigued by the reasoning for it, so he often asks you questions. Sure, he truthfully doesn’t have the fortitude to resist eating until sunset, but your devotion does make him proud of you. He feels so lucky and grateful he’s got such a cool partner. 

Likes watching you pray or read. He often smiles when he watches you and thinks he’s starting to get into it when he realizes he actually is reflecting alongside you. Definitely makes him appreciate your relationship more and your strength. 

Mihawk 

Much like his protege, Mihawk is captivated by the concept of Ramadan. Sure, he’s heard of it or read about it in his books, but he never understood it. Having you there to explain it and give more insight and rules makes him appreciate it. 

As the greatest swordsman, Mihawk is always looking for ways to appease his boredom as well as continue his discipline. He’s incredibly strict on himself, so he will immediately go all in during Ramadan with you. 

The house husband in him truly shines this month, he’s extra careful about how he prepares your meals and makes sure you are getting more hydration and nutrition than before. Likes to cook you fulfilling meals that won’t make you sick after fasting all day. 

Yes, he is still farming while fasting. No, he will not admit he is about to die of thirst. But also, that makes him desire to overcome that weakness and work harder to not need water while working outside. So, uh… good for him? 

Mihawk is also a man who enjoys reading, so he takes the month of Ramadan seriously as a chance to read the Quran with you. (Omg, reading the nightly juz with him <3)

Mihawk will learn how to pray, nothing will stop him from doing so, like I said, he’s all in, you’re doing it, he’s doing it. I think he will end up becoming more strict and knowledgeable than you in a few days. 

Again like his protege, giving up alcohol was probably a bit of a challenge (but again, Mihawk loves one), but he tends to substitute his cravings for wine with either a simple glass of water, tea, or even regular grape juice. 

He won’t admit his reflections out loud majority of the time, but it’ll be subtle glances at you or his lips turning up into a smile while he mentally thinks how grateful he is to have you and to share this with you <3. 

Cultural Notes: 

Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar, which is based on the lunar cycle- hence why you’ll often see debates on when Ramadan starts/ends or why it begins about a week or two earlier than before, since the lunar calendar is shorter than the solar calendar (or Gregorian, the one we normally use). 

Muslims fast for a month from dawn until sunset (there are restrictions of course) so no water or food from that time. 

Sahur/Suhur/Suhoor: the meal you eat before the dawn comes. 

Iftar: the meal you eat to break your fast at sunset. 

Juz: There are other words for it but basically, the Quran can be divided into 30 sections to be read in a month or so. Generally this how some people section it off, and during Ramadan, it's seen as a very good thing to read 1 juz a day. By the time Ramadan is done, you probably have read the full Quran.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (6)

remember how this installment was mostly fluff up until this point? we'll get back to that! 

... just not this chapter <3

part 2: how does a kid end up stranded in space, anyhow?

warnings: bad self care, illness, panic, child in distress, minor injury, non-consensual drug use, trafficking, unethical imprisonment and treatment of prisoners, child endangerment, implied offscreen minor character death, ambiguous character fates, this is a heavy tearjerker chapter but it does have a hopeful ending, lmk if i missed any

-

Virgil’s condition hadn’t improved.

They’d tried as many non-medicinal techniques as they could, struggling to figure out what would help and what would harm an unpredictable biological system that they barely understood.

Nothing had helped. Nothing was working.

And each time Virgil woke up to the sight of the ship around him, he wept and struggled and shouted, burning through his meager energy and only worsening his health.

He didn’t respond to heartfelt pleas from any of them, rarely even seeming to understand they were in the room with him. His stare was distant and terrified, his mind somewhere else, and each time it happened, Logan wanted to understand how to help so badly.

So, after several cycles without sleep and with the pressure of increasing desperation weighing heavy on his head, he finally succumbed to the deeply unwise impulse to start a Vidi.

He’d only wanted to understand what Virgil was yelling, try and grasp the reason behind his fear in the hopes that they could abate it, even slightly.

The moment he’d made contact, however, his mind had been dragged into a memory with intense force, the metaphorical handles of the Vidi ripped away, leaving him unable to steer and barely able to move.

His fingers twitched with the urge to pull away, but he stopped himself. It could hurt Virgil, and he’d endured plenty of traumatic memories before. He could handle this.

With a blink, he was looking through a much younger set of eyes.

—

The ship came during the summer.

Virgil remembered, because he’d been reviewing holidays and important events with his class before the break, and his half-birthday was coming up in a week!

His birthday was in winter, so his half birthday was in the opposite season, summer! He’d said as much before trying to debate his way into a trip to the park with his friends, and failing miserably.

So, he’d snuck out. And gotten himself lost between one turn of the neighborhood and the next.

He’d run into one of his neighbors, who’d been more than a little concerned to see him wandering around alone, especially because there had apparently been some people disappearing lately.

“Where did they go?” he’d asked, and gotten an uncomfortable reassurance, which definitely wasn’t an answer.

He’d frowned, tried to ask again, but his neighbor had gone quiet and grey-faced, staring at something over his shoulder. Before he could turn to see, there was a sharp thunk, and a bright bolt of pain in his shoulder.

There was a high, crackling scream, which was bad, but Virgil couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to figure out where it came from. A pair of warm hands caught him when he staggered, and then he was out.

He barely recalled what happened next, the memories fragmented like someone had taken a hammer to them. He didn’t want to think about them, but he kept the pieces close and tucked away anyhow, knowing they were important even though they hurt.

He felt flickers of awareness, the sensation of eyes rolling against heavy eyelids, a rapid pulse pounding away in his ears like a big drum, angry and fearful shouting barely audible beyond the clamor.

And then: the barest glimpse of the docking port of a ship from the inside, the entrance ramp folding up and sealing away the green trees and blue sky on the other side. Replacing the brief vision of home with cold metal and unearthly lights.

There weren’t any warm hands holding him, now.

His whimper turned nearly soundless on the way up his throat, but it drew the attention of his captors regardless.

A rush of unfamiliar language above him, another flood of numbness spreading through him, but even from that one fragmented moment, Virgil understood that they were taking him away.

Another blank period, like dipping one's head briefly underwater, and then he was waking up again.

“Easy, baby,” a familiar voice said, a hand stroking through his hair, slow and gentle. “You’re okay, you’re alright.”

“Miss Susan?” Virgil asked, and his voice came out small and crackling. He coughed, trying to force his crusted over eyelashes apart with a growing sense of panic.

“Hey, I need some water for the kid!” Miss Susan called lowly, before setting a hand against his back and helping him shuffle upright. “Take it slow, baby, don’t choke. There we go.”

Virgil opened his eyes and got his first look at the room he’d be stuck in for the next several months.

It was dimly lit, and smelled bad. The floor was metal, with a few thin stripes of grating, like a shower drain. The walls were made of tinted plastic and covered with sharp-edged wire netting, and there were a whole bunch of people inside with him and Miss Susan.

They all spoke to him at one point or another, but he only remembered some of their names. The thought made his stomach twist painfully, and he clamped down on the sensation.

He couldn’t be sick. Being sick was bad.

The time shifted, Miss Susan still at his side but her hair longer and her skin sallower. They were all seated, tired from the cold and the dark and the gross food that he wasn’t allowed to throw up.

Mister Ben was coughing, hard and rasping and wet, one after another. A few people were crouched near him, talking to him in hushed voices as they tried to coax him into stopping, but his body curled in and convulsed like he couldn’t control the coughs at all.

Before long, there was a clang, and a spraying sound like that time a fire hydrant down the road had been busted open. A few people stood between the door and Mister Ben, but the room grew more and more hazy with the thick air that made his legs go all numb, and they were swaying with the effort of staying upright.

Virgil knew by now what happened next. He turned and pressed his face against Miss Susan’s side, and she drew him close and held him tightly as the suits came in.

The aliens were always wearing them when they came into sight. Thick rubbery suits with dark-tinted visors, each with an electric zapper in hand. They’d drag the sick one out, and Virgil would never see them again.

“Leave him alone!” Miss Susan cried, joined by the rising voices of the rest of their roommates. “Don’t touch him, you leave him the fuck alone!”

Virgil kept not looking, but he said it too, into the worn fabric of Miss Susan’s blouse. “Leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone, don’t touch him, leave him alone…,”

It didn’t work. It never did. The aliens didn’t listen to them, and they made them weak and floaty if they tried to intervene.

His voice cracked as he kept repeating it, even as the door clanged again and the hiss of air stopped. If he didn’t look up, he could pretend that Mister Ben was still there, only quiet because he was all better from his cough.

"It's okay. I know. It's alright, honey." Miss Susan’s hands shook as they stroked carefully through his hair, soothing him to sleep through the last of his hiccuped sobs.

Everyone who spoke to him was kind, even when they were unhappy. When Miss Susan slept but he was awake, Mister Aaron would invent word games to play or Miss Kelsey would challenge him to push up contests, and they would all take turns trying to think of the worst possible combinations of foods to compare to their mush food.

The best was Miss Susan, though. When he was bored, she would tell him stories about her nieces and nephews, and the farm she grew up on, and silly people at her job before they got taken. When he couldn’t sleep, she would hum whichever parts of lullabies she could remember.

Even when he got sad and didn’t want to move or talk at all, she would hold him close and poke at his side and gasp about seeing the firefly that had snuck onboard with them, until he had no choice but to wiggle free and inspect every corner for its light.

The other adults would spot it every once in a while, too, and try to point it out to him. He never saw it, which he would report back to Miss Susan every time.

“Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there,” she’d tell him, waving at the dark ceiling of the room. “Glowbugs can’t be bright all the time.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they’d get too hot and sweaty. They’d have to go swim in the ocean, and then they’d probably all turn into anglerfish,” Miss Susan said, even though she hadn’t known what an anglerfish was until Virgil had told her everything he could remember about them.

“No way,” he said, laughing despite himself. “Bugs can’t turn into fish!”

“Maybe they just get too tired, then,” Miss Susan said, ruffling his hair. “It must be exhausting, being so bright.”

She went quiet for a moment, and Virgil leaned into her touch, squinting at the dark corners and willing the bug to show itself.

“Even when they’re blending in with the dark, though, they’re still there,” Miss Susan finally continued. “So don’t give up. You’ve just gotta trust in it, and eventually, you’ll spot it.”

“I want eventually to be now,” Virgil had responded, petulant as he flopped against her side, eyes growing heavy.

Miss Susan pet his head, humming quietly until he was almost asleep. She let out a big sigh, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “You and me both, kid.”

And then it was the last day.

He knew because Miss Susan’s hands were carefully cupping his face, coaxing him into waking up with a careful tap to the nose. They never woke him up on purpose, because 'growing kids needed their rest', except for the last day.

Virgil felt his brow scrunch with confusion even before his eyelids started fluttering, and Miss Susan chuckled and pressed her lips to the crown of his head for a moment.

“Come on, baby, wake up. It’s important, okay?”

He forced himself to open his eyes and keep them open, a little unease running down his spine.

Everyone had been scared, lately. Their group had shrunk in number, their room had been moved onto a bigger ship, and there were distant sounds of crowds at all hours, making his skin prickle with nerves when he was trying to sleep.

Some of their roommates were really smart, and they’d started puzzling out the words of the alien language from the ship directions that were given over the intercom and the overheard conversations of those passing by or rudely peeking in at them.

They’d taught Virgil some of them, whenever he was awake enough to remember. The words they whispered now weren’t ones he’d learned yet, though.

‘Transfer’ and ‘auction’. Everyone disliked them, felt too upset or angry about them to explain, even Miss Susan. Or maybe they just didn’t want to explain them to him, like they wouldn’t tell him what the aliens did with people when they got taken away. There had been a lot of arguing and shouting in low voices, trying to keep him from overhearing.

But now, they were waking him up.

Virgil let himself be coaxed to his feet, following Miss Susan over to the corner where everyone stood in a huddle, the tallest of them on the outside.

“Okay, sweetie. I need you to listen to me very closely, alright?” she told him, turning him to face the corner where they usually kept extra clothes in a pile. “You’re going to have to be very brave for me, okay?”

The clothes had been moved. There was a hole in the wall, where the netting had been peeled back. The edges of it were rough and curved like they’d been made with fingernails, like it had been painstakingly carved through one scratch at a time.

It was a small hole, barely the size of a vent, or a cat flap. Virgil could probably fit through it, but he was the only one.

“No,” Virgil shook his head immediately. “I don’t want to! I’m scared.”

Miss Susan squatted to be level with him, holding his hand in hers. “I know, honey. But it’s important, okay? We’re going to get out and find you, but you have to go first and stay safe until we do. I’ll send our little glowbug with you, and it’ll light the way in the dark.”

“What about your dark?” Virgil asked, rubbing harshly at his stinging eyes.

Miss Susan softened, pulled his hand away and smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “Oh, baby. I’ve seen that glowbug a hundred times, here with you. I’ll be okay without it for a little while.”

Virgil turned to look at the hole again, imagining a little firefly crawling through with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

“Do you promise?” he asked, and Miss Susan pulled him into a hug so tight, it felt like it squished all the air from him.

“I promise,” she said, and her hands shook a little but her voice was steady. Virgil smushed his face against her shoulder for the last time.

“Okay. I’ll— I’ll go.”

The barrier of bodies around them seemed to relax, just slightly, though it still took Miss Susan a few moments longer to release him.

They told him everything he needed to know, everyone chiming in. That he had to run, as fast and as far as he could, and be sneaky and quiet when he was too tired to run. That he should find hiding places and hole up in them, wait until nobody was around to keep running.

That he should always hide from aliens, even if they weren't wearing the suits. That he should never let them see him, because they hated humans. That if they did grab him, he could do whatever he needed to do to get away.

“Just like stranger danger, right, buddy? You can bite, kick, scream, whatever you need to do.”

Virgil nodded, trying to push down the sick, stressed feeling in his gut, and when there was finally no advice left to give, he turned to the gash in the wall.

Wiggling through it was hard, because there were still sharp, poky bits that scratched at his skin and the inside of the wall was dark and stifling, but every time he wanted to stop, he could hear the encouragement of everyone else, who was still stuck inside.

There was a little bug with him, he reminded himself. If he closed his eyes and froze up, he wouldn’t ever be able to see it glow.

Finally, he squirmed free of the last few inches, dropping onto the floor of a very small dark room with shelves in it, like a linen closet. He turned back to face the hole, calling out, and Miss Susan reached an arm through.

He grabbed for her hand and pressed his face to it, clung to her for a long moment, his breaths stuttering as she cradled him the best she could.

There was a muffled clang, and Miss Susan ran her wavering thumb over his cheekbone one more time before pulling away.

“Run, Virgil. Now. Run!”

So he did.

He ran and hid, just like they told him, but he picked the wrong place to hide because it was part of another ship, and it took him far away. He kept running, pulled himself into tiny little nooks on spaceship after spaceship, snuck food wherever he could get it and only ever whispered to his invisible firefly.

Eventually, he left a ship and there were no other ships around to board, only the wide landscape of a different planet, full of weird trees and weird animals and a weird town that he fled from. No more ships came, and that was fine because he didn’t want to run anymore. He wanted to stay and wait for them to find him.

He laid on his back and faced the sky, searching for a sign that they were coming. He was hungry and tired and lonely.

The stars above looked just like fireflies, hundreds of them. Enough for all of them to watch together. Except there wasn’t a ‘them’. It was only him.

Virgil felt his face growing hot, his throat closing up at the thought. It was too frightening to be alone.

No, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t. He had their firefly with him, somewhere next to him in the grass.

“Just because I can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Virgil said to himself sternly, and rolled back to his feet.

He would find something to eat, somewhere to sleep, and he would wait. They would find him. They would find him. They would…

—

When Logan finally eased the mental connection closed and pulled himself free, he found there was a low, buzzing keen building in the back of his throat. The sort of sound he hadn’t made since he himself was a child.

Virgil still lay there unconscious, but his cheeks were shiny and damp with tears. Logan reached out, ignoring the heat radiating from the pupa’s skin, and gently smoothed a narrow finger over his cheek, wiping the wetness away as best he could.

It didn’t do much, but the crinkle in Virgil’s brow seemed to ease just slightly at the sensation.

Roman paced by again, pausing at the sight. “Specs? Is the kid alright? …Are you alright?”

Logan wondered what Roman would think about the fact that Humans and Crav’n had more in common culturally than he would have ever guessed. That an entire group of Humans had given up their only boon for the slim chance of getting the only child present to safety.

No time to waste, now. That conversation would have to wait until they’d launched.

“Let Patton know we’re leaving, and meet me in the navigation area,” he instructed, already turning to leave. “I’m going to clear our landing area for departure.”

“What— I thought we agreed it was a bad idea to actually leave?” Roman asked, glancing between Logan and Virgil with visible worry.

“It’s a worse idea to sit here and wait,” he replied firmly, and then he was down the hall and out the hanger door, ignoring the shiver of secondhand trepidation that Virgil’s mind had left in his.

He circled the ship, placing the warding discs that would keep their launch area organism-free down one by one, and then paused at the sight of a familiar creature standing by the main entrance hatch.

It was a Humlilt, one with a distinct little white splotch on its head. Logan was fairly certain that it was the one who had stood between them and Virgil during their second meeting, the most loyal of the bunch, only proved further by the way it had been waiting outside the ship since Virgil had been taken aboard.

Logan was also fairly certain that Virgil had named this one Susan, after his neighbor. The Human who’d taken care of him, in those memories.

“You’ve taken care of him, too, haven’t you?” he asked, still far too affected by the painful sympathy that had washed over him post-Vidi.

The Humlilt stamped a hoof and trumpeted at him warningly as he neared, still obviously holding a grudge at them for stealing Virgil away.

Logan attempted to rationalize himself out of the decision he was about to make, and utterly failed.

—

It took some digging and reaching out to a few of Logan’s less savory contacts, but the ship was on its way to a waypoint station that was rumored to have a Human expert in residence. It could have been a trap, a lie meant to lure interested parties into an attack, but they were going to have to risk it.

The three of them had all agreed to the plan. They wouldn’t be able to live with themselves otherwise.

Now that they were in transit, Logan sat down with his two closest friends, and began to explain just what he’d learned about their kid.

A few rooms down in the medical bay, a half-conscious Human reached out a feverish hand and found a small, fluffy presence curled up at his side.

The Humlilt crooned a few notes, sounding just like the aimless lullabies its namesake used to hum.

For the first time since boarding the ship, Virgil breathed a little easier.

[msbunnat]

sorry if you’ve been asked this before but how do you interpret Zeus in Greek mythology?

I know you like to keep the details of your comic a secret but can you at least elaborate on your perspective about his canon?

Like me personally, I see Zeus as kind of a force of nature, probably cuz he kind of is. He’s the man made character created in order to further understand that which man did not know, like all the gods. And also like the other gods his actions are hard to rationalize cuz they’re so dam inconsistent. One moment he’s treating women as disposable then the next he’s giving Hestia the respect and permission to never marry without any question.

sorry for the Yap sesh lol, love ur art and ur comic btw!

I think this is the first time someone has asked this and I am very happy to answer!

*THIS IS TO BIG SORRY!! ;-;

First, I need to make it clear that the Zeus of ancient myths and my Zeus will be different, even though its based on mythology. I am just contributing with my two cents to this range of fanfics that have existed since ancient times.

I truly believe that all the myths we love and explore are basically fanfics based on a religion and that people in the past used them to spread knowledge, comedies, tragedies and just to have fun while keeping the image of their gods alive. That is why the gods are so inconsistent in mythology, since we have many variations even of a single myth and it will always depend on who is telling the story (I wish it were easier to make fics like this about my religion, but I am afraid of the reaction of extremists).

I interpret Zeus in mythology like all the other gods, I no longer make a distinction based on the prejudice of him being a compulsive pervert, he has many sides. As all gods re natural forces, natural as in animal and plants, but also human feelings and urges.

Zeus has some basic pillars that myths tend to respect: He is THE father, he is the fairest one, he is the executioner, he is seductive, he is good-humored (sometimes he makes some bad jokes kkkkkk), he defends natural balance more than anything and he respects the will of others (this seems ironic, but calm down!!). After reading more myths about him and different interpretations, I understood that this modern view of him as a player is completely distorted and ignores all the other myths he participates (I understand that it became his joke, but… some people take it to seriously). So I started to form my own view of his myths.

Most of his adulteries are consensual and when they are not, they remain in that confusing area of ​​what was once consensual, since it is always mentioned that he seduces (for example, how he turned into an bull or a shower of gold because he knew that his potential partners really liked those things - and I find it hilarious that it seems like he didn't even intend to get Danae pregnant kkkkkk, but it ended up happening). This doesn't mean we can't understand that some of these seductions are abusive (like taking the form of a husband to have a night with Persephone or Alcmena), but saying that he discarded them doesn't seem right either. He often protected his lovers and bastards in the most intelligent way possible and sometimes he just walked away too for the good of others. And in a way, as the father and lord of the sky, he is always watching. I also hate how we take away any woman agency when it comes to Zeus, like, there re myths that they wanted a casual nigth with a god... stop ignoring that!! (the bad thing is that Zeus is also a pilar for fertility ;w; so if he sleep with someone with a uterus... they will get pregnant).

Going to the non-literal side, we have to remember that Zeus is a god and his adultery should not be seen as the same as that of mortal men. He cant acuatlly be with a mortal on the mortal realm and be a husband there... I also want to say: Hera wasn't that jealousy (I think she herself knew that Zeus needed to spread his blood/goodness in the world - yes, a strong interpretation is that Zeus' affairs are a metaphor for spreading goodness). On the contrary, she respected the bastards who faced their challenges and thus deserved to be close to them on Olympus. Hera tested the heroes for two reasons: So they understood that she and Zeus were in charge (so that no one would think they could usurp the throne, and she protected both her and Zeus, as well as Zeus do his best to also prevent the bastards to die and have some help - both Zeus and Hera do all this from a distance, they want to be fair with eachother) and to see if they deserved to be with the immortals.

It seems ironic today, but Zeus respected everyone's will, but it was in the Greek terms (more of in atenians terms, bc we don't have much of the other states). He accepted the decisions of Hestia, Athena, Artemis… I don't remember seeing him laying a finger on them or wanting them to get married. On the other hand, we have versions of him as father of Persephone, 'selling' her (but the myth was about an arranged marriage and I think it makes sense that it's Zeus, since the focus ends up being Demeter's suffering and this encompasses more complex feelings when losing her daughter because her 'husband' gave her away, while he is still respected and loved socially).

Now the bad side of Zeus in how fair he is. He punishes Apollo in some situations, even though I understand why he needed to do it… But he is not shallow enough to be evil for the sake of evil… It left a impression on me when he killed Asclepius and hurt Apollo (obviously), it is sad and I doubt he enjoyed killing his grandson, but if he didn't do it… the balance of the cycle of death would collapse and he is the one who sustains this cycle with the greatest respect. In fact, my theory is that he doesn't face Nyx, not because he fears her, but because no matter who wins the fight, the world will end (if Nyx dies, the night and everything that comes from the night, for the Greeks like sleep and death, will be disturbed / if Zeus dies the throne will be empty and no other god would do what he does, maybe Athena, but the world was too sexist back then to let her become sovereign and I also think she would be colder than Zeus when making decisions and would have no descendants…). But sometimes he just wanted to prank and have fun! So like, no straight answer here.

In the case of Ganymede, I believe that his myth is more one of those in which Zeus is merely a narrative tool, more than an active role. People just started shipping them and that's when the pederasty boom happened, but before that Ganymede was just a boy who was handsome and got a 'dream job' (poor thing…).

[yuseirra]

Analysis on Kamiki

Organized further notes on the Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko myth

Happy new year! I brought something new(yet again) on this guy... as first thing of the year, wow. Something about him really bugs me I guess. But I came up with something that can explain what he is and I've been expressing a lot about that. I have to understand what the subject is before I could build something upon it and create fanwork so, please take these as a struggle to do it o<-<

From what I've concluded, he's a character that definitely cannot be understood fully without understanding Japanese mythology. It's been fun doing some research about it and since I'm not an expert and it's all self-conducted, I can be off, but I think I've done all right. I've done cross-checks and looked into multiple resources, official documents, and websites so; I did a lot; to make sense of something that doesn't seem to.

well, here goes!: If you like the character or seek a better understanding of him, I think this may help!

Doesn't it feel like something about how things unfold around Kamiki is deeply unusual?

The people who make his life difficult—or maybe it's more accurate to say those who hurt him—seem to either die or end up miserable. But it’s unclear whether this is something within Kamiki’s control or if it happens regardless of his intent. There’s no clear cause-and-effect relationship. Moreover, people around him, including the protagonist, seem to become extreme in their behavior. Even Nino didn’t seem to be in her right mind—almost as though she were possessed. She doesn't seem sane.

Kamiki himself, however, behaves relatively normally: he warns Yura to watch her step, urges Nino to turn herself in, asks Ryosuke to deliver flowers, cries to Uehara about what happened to him, and tells Aqua to go back and live a normal life. But the outcomes of these actions spiral into bizarre consequences: Yura dies, Nino tries to stab Ruby, Ryosuke harms Ai, Uehara ends up in a murder-suicide with his wife, and Aqua decides to drown Kamiki along with himself, culminating in that tragic ending.

To me, the only person who seemed relatively unaffected while staying by Kamiki's side was Ai. The two of them appeared genuinely happy together, which might explain why Kamiki struggles to let go of her. Maybe it’s because he was truly happy during that time. When Ai was with him, he believed he could overcome anything. But even their relationship took an unexpected turn when the twins were conceived, and they eventually separated.

Sarutahiko, the husband of Ame-no-Uzume (the goddess of entertainment), is described as “a god who guides everything toward goodness.” This is how a shrine dedicated to the two deities refers to him. When I read that, I felt like there was something significant about it.

If such a god operates this way, wouldn’t it stand to reason that if the god fell into corruption or was broken, they’d become the opposite—a god who guides everything toward evil?

Something about Kamiki is genuinely strange. Can his actions be interpreted as intentional? If so, when did it start? From what point?; Yet, it seems like he possesses some kind of ability to guide or lead others in a particular direction—without physically doing anything himself. This would explain why he can claim, “I didn’t do anything.”

From the songs, it seems Kamiki didn’t realize he's capable of doing this before Ai’s death. There are two songs about wanting to meet or revive the dead. In “Mephisto,” the narrator claims to have forgotten who they are, and I think this narrator is Kamiki. This isn’t Aqua, as Aqua knows exactly who he is—a reincarnated person—and struggles to live as just Aqua the boy. On the other hand, Kamiki seems to have been something else without realizing it until later.

Both “Fatal” and “Mephisto” appear to be Kamiki’s songs. They likely symbolize Kamiki’s realization that he is Sarutahiko, the god of light and guidance, and that Ai was once his partner when he was in his divine form. The lyrics suggest he’ll do whatever it takes to bring Ai back, even sacrificing his own life. This aligns with Kamiki’s lines and motivations, which differ from Aqua, who expresses a desire to live.

As for Kamiki’s claim about sending flowers, I don’t think he was lying. The events in chapter 154 were too strange, leading me to suspect from the beginning that his intention was simply to send flowers and that things spiraled out of control from there. Chapter 160 confirms this idea—the explanation aligns well with his character and prior context. When considering Kamiki, Nino, and Ryosuke’s mutual acquaintance, it makes no sense for Kamiki to ask Ryosuke to threaten Ai. He's the boyfriend of a member of her idol group, who is also a fan of Ai. Why choose someone with that sort of connection to go and attack Ai? Could he have suspected such a thing? Instead, I believe Kamiki trusted Ryosuke enough to make such a request, after having befriended him for a few years, expecting him to deliver the flowers as intended.

Kamiki’s innate nature seems to be gentle and kind, but excessively naive. He tends to believe others’ words at face value, struggles to discern good from evil, and harbors a desire to do what’s “right” or “approved by others.” However, due to the lack of proper guidance, his judgment is severely flawed. Ai seemed to recognize this and often acted as his advocate, standing up for him.

Statements like “Carry the burden of the dead” and “You are empty, so no one will ever love you” were internalized by Kamiki without question. His problem isn’t malice—it’s excessive naivety and emptiness, combined with a tendency to trust others too readily. When things go wrong, he blames himself and spirals into self-punishment.

To me, it seems that he truly blamed himself for the issues he caused when he parted ways with Ai and tortured himself over it. Afterward, due to his timid nature, it makes sense that he only tried to send flowers. That’s the most natural progression, given his personality, which is why I can’t believe that he ever intended to harm Ai.

If he really is the incarnation of the god who was the husband of Ame-no-Uzume, then he is the god of guiding paths and should be a god who leads others, right? He’s supposed to push people toward good decisions or guide them to a “better future.”

However, the environment he grew up in wasn’t good, so he probably didn’t know what the “right path” was. That’s where the confusion started. This is why Ai’s request regarding him strikes significant: if Kamiki ever lost his way, she wanted him to find it together with her and her kids. Ai had, to some extent, played the role of his guide, as there were no proper adults around Kamiki. But Ai also had a lot on her plate to handle, and she ultimately judged that it would be better to leave him to reduce his burden, so she parted ways. In the end, Kamiki—still lost and unable to recover as a god of guidance who had lost his way—spiraled after Uehara’s death and fell into despair, becoming corrupted and unable to recover. From that point on, it seems that he started to twist the fates of those around him.

I think much of this happened as a passive. His small actions seem to have caused butterfly effects, continuously leading everything in unhappy, extreme, and strange directions. People who got involved with him ended up becoming unfortunate. That's because he's the god of guidance that deals with people's futures, but is severely flawed.

He likely didn’t realize until Ai’s death what kind of power he had, but at some point afterward, he became aware and probably started using the “black star” consciously. The charisma to sway others or the ability to deceive them may be an expression of the power of Sarutahiko, the god he incarnates. It seems he shared that power with his children. The ability to influence others aligns strongly with the god’s ability to lead people’s futures. The power of love represented by the “white star” comes from Ai. The god who loves humans unconditionally is Ame-no-Uzume—Ai—and the god who loves absurdity and irrationality is Sarutahiko—Kamiki.

Tsukuyomi says the entertainment world isn’t her domain, and in Shinto, the gods of entertainment are the couple Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko. The Aratate Shrine that appears in the story worships these two gods together, granting wishes. Kamiki talks about wishes several times, and that’s because he’s been fulfilling them himself. But as I said earlier, because he’s not in a good state, it’s like a monkey’s paw—people get what they wish for, but in a twisted way.

It must be true that he has paternal love. He was likely helping his children in his own way, but his self-loathing and guilt over Ai’s death kept him from stepping forward to meet them. In the end, doesn’t he go to see them? That’s probably because his goal was nearly achieved, and he planned to die soon. Before that, he might’ve wanted to grant each of the twins their wishes once. That's what he does when he meets them, he mentions wishes and bids them luck. Why else would he have gone to see them? He didn’t have to. And yet, he encouraged them. He was kind, wasn’t he? Did he try to kill Ruby? I don’t know... omg. Well, about that, he neither confirmed nor denied it. Apart from that eerie smile from hell, maybe he considered it, but in the end, he didn’t do it, right?

As for whether he used his ability to manipulate Nino to try into harming Ruby (but then, would he have calmly watched her performance?? That doesn’t make sense. If he had intended to harm Ruby in such a way, he wouldn’t have watched her performance so intently. He would’ve thought something went wrong and executed a backup plan or something. And would he have told Aqua to continue watching Ruby’s idol journey if he planned to kill her??); or if he genuinely meant it when he told Nino that they should stop and was sincerely planning to die or turn himself in, only for his powers to unintentionally cause something similar to what happened to Ai... I actually think it’s the latter. Logically, the latter aligns more with his previous statements and actions.

Seeing this situation unfold, Aqua likely concluded that no matter Kamiki’s intentions, the only way to protect “Ruby’s future” was to eliminate him quickly. That’s why Aqua made such an extreme choice.

Kamiki seems to be a kind of calamity just by being alive. He has the ability to influence the future, but it seems to push people in an unfavorable direction. In Mephisto, it felt like he wasn’t aware of this aspect of himself, but by Fatal, with all the talk of "corruption" and "stars," it seems he had become conscious of it. Comparing the two songs (Mephisto → Fatal), you can see how the emotional tone grows increasingly extreme and unhinged. Both songs express genuine sadness and longing, but the way those feelings are enveloped shifts. By Fatal, it’s as if he’s reached a point where he can’t see anything clearly anymore.

From that point—or possibly earlier—it seems like Kamiki became the kind of person who could commit countless transgressions just to see Ai again, using his abilities while minimizing his own accountability. That’s likely why Aqua calls him selfish and despicable: because his actions stem from his desire to see Ai. Kamiki himself acknowledges his sins, so this interpretation seems accurate.

But if he does possess this ability, it’s hard to tell how much of the outcomes fall within the scope of his intentions. It doesn’t seem like he wants to kill people—it feels more like an unintended consequence. For instance, the deaths of others don’t seem to be something he wished for, as he continually blames himself, saying, "It’s my fault, it’s my fault." It seems like the process goes: he wants to feel closer to Ai → he retrieves the light (star) associated with Ai → those who possess that light end up dying. This chain of events is likely why these tragedies keep happening, and why he has to pay the price for his actions.

Is he evil? If you look at the results, he certainly appears extremely so. But if we’re talking about his nature… it feels like his state deteriorated to the point where, had someone helped him regain clarity, this outcome might have been avoided. And the only person in the world who could have helped him was Ai. That’s why he continues to search for her.

If Kamiki really is a god, Ai would indeed be his one and only precious partner. They were originally meant to function together. Even if we leave that aside, it doesn’t seem like there was anyone else who treated him properly. That’s why he longs for Ai.

Looking at his interactions with Aqua, it seems that what happened between Kamiki and Aqua was the result of Kamiki interpreting Aqua’s wish and making it come true. Aqua wished to take revenge on him, and as a result, Kamiki was completely destroyed socially. But the process was so devastatingly catastrophic that even Kamiki himself was taken aback, pleading, "Don’t do this." It feels like he was betrayed by the very wish he granted.

As for Ruby, I believe Kamiki also granted her wish, but the way it manifested was horribly twisted. She doesn’t seem happy. Her beloved brother died, and yet she shines brighter than anyone by hiding the truth. Is that happiness? Perhaps. But Ruby once said she wouldn’t become like her mother. So, like Aqua’s wish, Ruby’s wish seems to have been granted in a way that was fundamentally flawed. If you look at the lyrics of Fatal, this "lack of Ai" appears to be the key flaw. Without Ai, Kamiki was fundamentally incapable of recovery. But since he believes Ai died because of him, he can’t stop.

The events of Chapter 160 should reflect the truth. When I picked up and became more invested in reading this story back in Chapter 154, I thought, "Something feels off here." Chapter 160 finally addressed that. I believe it’s accurate.

That’s why Ai thought she and her children had to help Kamiki. He didn’t end up in this state by his own will. However, Aqua, after witnessing Kamiki’s collapse and the ripple effects it had on Ruby, judged him to be beyond salvation. Aqua likely concluded, "He has to die; it’s the only way," and acted accordingly.

This might very well have been the "right" decision. Kamiki’s powers seem uncontrollable. A mad god wandering around wreaking havoc can’t be allowed to continue. Perhaps if Ai could return and reassure him—Hey, calm down, I’m alive—it could have resolved things. But by now, he’s committed so many sins that it might truly be too late.

So, if we retrace things, where could we turn back the clock to make everyone happy?

Ai and Kamiki, in my opinion, could have been a happy couple. If they had simply been left alone to live happily, this could have all been avoided.

It feels like the gods came to the human world, suffered greatly, and broke apart. One of them partially recovered, only to die, while the other went mad in the aftermath.

And this manga… if so, essentially tears apart a real-life divine couple that’s known for living happily together. Lol, maybe those gods cursed this comic for having caused them this because I can't picture an ending like this getting an overall pleasant reception...some people may like it, but I don't think the general consensus would be so; I don't like it so much either. The only way I believe it can come together somewhat is through reading over the myths with some extensive research but that's not really something that's explained within the manga itself, thus it can't really be confirmed unless the artists tell so;

Anyhow, the author seems to have a deep appreciation for mythology, in my opinion.

When I first came across Fatal, I felt that the existing narrative hinted at some connections to mythology, so I started delving into the myths surrounding the deities Amaterasu and Ame-no-Uzume that were mentioned in the story.

The narrative between Ai and Kamiki appears, at least to me, to be a modern reinterpretation of how Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko came to meet. As I dug deeper, Kamiki started to align with Sarutahiko in so many ways that it felt implausible to dismiss the connection. Although there aren’t vast records or details on the myth, I managed to find translations of the relevant sections, particularly in the Nihon Shoki.

In the myth, Amaterasu sends her descendant Ninigi down to Earth, and the goddess entertainment, of the performing arts, Ame-no-Uzume, assists him. Upon surveying the land, Ame-no-Uzume spots Sarutahiko, who is shining brilliantly. She approaches him and persuades him to guide her, and Sarutahiko agrees. (Initially, he was obstructing the path because if he agreed to guide them, it meant ceding part of his territory and potentially his position as the sun deity to Amaterasu.) The two fall in love, and he eventually relents.

Doesn't this parallel how Ai thought Kamiki was "like a jewel" when she first saw him? His name is also associated with light, and he ends up guiding Ai—helping her learn acting and supporting her growth. At that time, Kamiki still had the white star, representing his role as a god of righteousness, guiding Ai away from her self-destructive tendencies.

Additionally, in the myth, Ame-no-Uzume serves Sarutahiko a meal to thank him for guiding her (and Amaterasu's grandson). Doesn't this echo the moment when Ai treated Kamiki to a meal as thanks for teaching her acting?

Their relationship grows so deep that Amaterasu’s grandson essentially acts as a matchmaker, and Ame-no-Uzume takes Sarutahiko’s name, leaving the heavens to settle with him on Earth.

Ame-no-Uzume is a celestial deity, while Sarutahiko is an earthly one. Here’s where I started to sense the underlying theme: they belong to different realms. If Ai is a star and Kamiki is a jewel, then even if they are both deities, their origins differ. When they separate, they can't meet again because their realms don’t overlap. Ai ascended to the heavens, and Kamiki, unable to become a star himself, began searching for her out of longing.

In the myth, Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko seem to have connected almost instantly—there are even implications that their bond was formed through physical intimacy right from the start. (This is hinted at in the myth, apparently.) They say they didn’t have an official marriage ceremony, but people generally regard them as married. I found this curious—why not simply state that they were officially wed? And even this mirrors how Ai and Kamiki almost got married but didn’t? Their stories overlap significantly in so many ways, almost too much to be a coincidence.

The descendants of Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko are known for their exceptional dancing skills, a dance for the gods, the Kagura. Doesn’t that remind you of Ruby?

So, as I pieced these parallels together, I was like, “Oh, wow!” And then chapter 162 happened, and I was completely thrown off, thinking, “What is going on with this plot?” Interestingly, Sarutahiko is also associated with misogi—a purification ritual involving water. I remember speculating at some point that Kamiki should just be pushed into water, that he seems really cursed, and later, I found out that there’s a legend about Sarutahiko drowning. That’s when I thought, “This has to be it. This must be the reason the story is unfolding this way.”

If Kamiki truly represents this deity, then he must be a god of virtue who became corrupted. Originally, Sarutahiko is a god who guides people toward the right path, which means he must have been incredibly benevolent by nature.

But Sarutahiko also has a dual nature! He’s said to be the model for the tengu, a Japanese mythical creature known for being either extremely malevolent or extraordinarily kind. This duality makes everything click perfectly!

Honestly, it’s all incredibly fascinating. This part of the story was really fun to piece together.

Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko seemed to have an incredibly harmonious relationship. People even created masks of these two gods to use in festivals, and they would visit shrines dedicated to them to receive blessings for marriage or to hold wedding ceremonies. They also pray for good fortune in love there. Since the two gods are connected to the entertainment industry (though Sarutahiko’s original domain wasn’t entertainment—it seems like he helps out because it’s his wife’s work), they take care of entertainers. As mentioned earlier, they also have the ability to grant wishes together. It seems that this ability only manifests when the two are together.

Also, wasn’t it mentioned that Kamiki’s soul was noble? Sarutahiko is a god with a noble soul. Like many gods associated with light, he is described as just and virtuous. So, is it really entirely his fault that he ended up in such a state? If Ai were still alive, I feel like he never would’ve fallen so far. And if it turns out that he wasn’t even trying to kill Ai—something I genuinely believe—wouldn’t it make the story much clearer if they explicitly addressed that?

If the story is indeed borrowing from mythology, then there should be a message or some thematic consistency, but it feels incomplete or ambiguous, which is frustrating.

I started researching because certain aspects of Kamiki’s characterization felt off to me, and that led me down this path. If this was intentional on the creators’ part, then it’s quite impressive. But why aren’t they clarifying it? Most readers aren’t going to put in this much effort to analyze the story. So, is this not something they considered important? Or am I just overthinking? Still, without interpreting the story this way, I think there are logical gaps that can’t be explained otherwise. That’s why I can’t tie this story together in my mind—it just doesn’t sit right with me.

At the very least, by the end of the story, we need to understand what it’s trying to say. Without that clarity, it’s hard to feel satisfied. Right now, it feels seriously vague, and many people don’t understand it. If that’s the case, it means the story isn’t fully functioning as a narrative.

I don’t think Kamiki being portrayed as an outright villain would make for a good story. The work has already painted his character in shades of ambiguity. If they frame his actions as being motivated by anger over being rejected by Ai, and if that led him to harm her, it wouldn’t be a very meaningful story, in my opinion. Moreover, the flow of the narrative already feels strange. It’s not that I can’t accept that people are capable of such actions, but something about this character doesn’t feel like he would act that way. I had someone address, “Even if Kamiki hurt Ai, why can’t you still support their relationship?” Well, sure, that might be possible, but…hey, the thing is, I don’t think that was actually the case here. It’s not because I want to justify their relationship that I'm denying what's obvious—from what I make out from having read the story, I don’t even think he harmed her in the first place, which is why it feels off, and made me look deeper into it. If I believed he had hurt her, I wouldn’t support it. I'm not saying people can't do it, I wouldn't have been so passionate about them, that's all.

Until chapter 154, I had never once drawn that couple—I was just observing. I never expected to get so deeply into this or to end up saying so much about it… sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t have picked up this story—it’s led me down such a challenging path, goodness!! In the end, it’s still unclear, right? Why is that? Why would that be so? Why did they have Kamiki say at the end, “I only intended to send flowers”? I genuinely believe that’s true. That's what I made out of his character even before that was actually addressed in the story! I KNEW it had to happen because that's how he would have acted, according to how he's been depicted!! Based on his personality as depicted in the story, he doesn’t seem like the type to hire someone like Ryosuke to intimidate Ai or harm her. That’s just not how the character was written. There’s no need to portray him that way! So why did they? When you apply the mythology, everything fits together so well, which is why I kept looking into it. But the creators have left it vague and unresolved, making it really frustrating.

I think I'll be able to send them off properly.. have a closure myself after I complete the story I've been writing for these two characters! As much as I like both characters, they've been making me feel so anxious because it was so hard to make a judgment due to the ambiguity. But even though I’ve been filled with anxiety, the reason I kept drawing those two characters was that, in my own way, I had some basis and intuition for doing so.

That is all~ see you all with another comic strip soon, happy new year! :)

[kairiscorner]

i'll always be here for you. – earth 42 miles x reader (comfort headcanons)

request: could you make miles 42 or miles 1610 whichever you pick have a S/O similar to cassie from euphoria like wears blue Alot and is emotional and cries and she feels like they should be going somewhere and doing something and taking something big for herself but always ending up going to the same parties doing the same stupid things over and over again because thats the only way she knows how to find release and the only role she knows how to fill and miles tries everything in his power to help her

a/n: ask and you shall receive, my lovely anon 💖 now i've never watched euphoria except for that one scene where the guy is shouting at the girl, but i hope this provides some comfort despite me not being very familiar with the characters and what they're like ^^ i hope you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

despite seeming really aloof and apathetic, he does get worried when he sees your red, swollen eyes after you cried yourself to sleep and woke up crying the morning after going to another party, doing stupid things all over again when you swore to yourself you'd clean up your act as soon as you could.

he isn't very sure on how to ask you in a way that wouldn't make you feel like it was your fault or that you were lacking for being unable to change right away. he understands you want to change, but he does ask you what's happened to you.

"mi cielo, you... good?" he asked you as you walked over to him, fatigued and sluggish. you leaned against him, feeling the urge to sob your heart out again. you gripped him tightly as he held you gently, feeling concerned over what happened to you, but already having an idea what's wrong. "miles... i did it again, i screwed up again." you murmured as miles understood what you meant, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly.

"cielo..." he muttered as you sobbed into his shoulder, muttering how stupid and helpless you felt back then–how you don't feel like anything you do could change how messed up you felt.

when you tell him the jist of what's happened to you the previous nights, he starts to feel a little guilty he couldn't stop you nor be have been there to keep you from doing anything rash.

he tries to comfort you, reassure you that change... it doesn't come immediately. he wants to let you know that despite how repeatedly you've been screwing up at doing something else with your life apart from partying and doing reckless stuff, the fact you're trying is enough.

he believes that failing is indeed part of the process, and he hates how you keep beating yourself up over failing again and again. he feels guilty and ashamed of himself when he sees you like this, like he can't even keep you happy and confident of who you are, which he desperately wants you to feel most, if not all, of the time.

he wants to protect you, be there for you all the time–but he knows he can never have everything he wants in life. he wants to offer you support, but not just at a distance, he wants to physically be there for you, and he cannot express that enough.

"i'm such a screw up..." "no. no, mi amor, you're not a screw up." he muttered as you cried into his shoulder, clinging on to him even tighter. "i'm sorry i couldn't be there for you, but you are in no way lacking, mi vida." he said as you pulled away and looked up at him, with him gazing back at you with sadness filling his eyes. "you are trying so hard... i can't even begin to imagine how heavy those burdens for you are." he said as tears rolled down your cheeks, with him wiping those tears away from your eyes. "i love you, and you... you are so amazing." he whispers as he kisses your forehead.

he holds you close when you feel like you're falling apart all over again, whispering how strong you are for trying to fix yourself up. after you expressed how tired you were of finding release this way, through mindless parties and reckless activities, miles finds more of a reason to be more protective and concerned over you.

he visits your house more often now, checking up on you every now and then and doing all kinds of things with you that distract you from your sadness, loneliness, and all those other negative feelings you want to escape from.

he cuddles up with you, holds you close in the comfort of your own room and takes naps with you on the weekends when he visits you–keeping you from doing anything bad to yourself and comforting you all the while, letting you know even just a sliver of how wonderful you are through his touch and warmth as he hugs you.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @fiannee @ii01vq @toneystank-3000 @zalayni @anikaluv @q2ie @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @conitagray