#these three will end me someday I swear

[mc-critical]

Putting Sol's tags here, because they once again hit the nail on the head!

It's interesting to see how Mahidevran, Hatice and Gülfem's different yet overlapping relationships with outside forces (soothsayers, the superstitious/the "magical" and the "divine" in particular) form and feed into their core mindsets and views of their experiences.

Gülfem starts off rather as a background figure, so we learn more about her experiences and what exact role the outside forces have played in her processing later on. She's seen their harm, but she's also embraced the good they bring. They've caused all the bad in her life but that's why it's almost like they are the only ones aware of the full extent of her pain, hence joining in her hardships (E43: "Only Allah and I know how much I've suffered") - they're all she's left when even what small things she's established for herself in the harem are taken away, thus, unlike either Mahidevran or Hatice, she separates the outside forces from her pain altogether, pinning the blame only on herself (as seen by her scene with SS in E15). How can they be a part of her pain when she can confide in them so much? She's gained the support of others, sure, but her past isn't really brought up by anyone except herself when push comes to shove: that only stays inside her and within all those outside forces that dictate everyone's fates' grasp, the grasp of one force in particular: Allah. Gülfem goes with fate's flow, with Allah's flow (fate and Allah are constant here, but Allah is put at the most personal), only he can really console her and make everything better. What's done is done and even seeking justice is pointless, as only Allah will decide what will happen next to each and every one of them.

But what gets all the more interesting is Gülfem's persistent advocacy in one's own capability to step up and improve their own life, albeit with outside help. In Hatice, Gülfem doesn't see a mere mirror of herself, but someone who has the agency she doesn't have, the position and resources she can't have, so she, unlike Gülfem, shouldn't just stand there and wait for the outside forces to dictate her life and take away what was taken away from Gülfem herself. She should lean on Allah for help, she'll always have Gülfem's own support as well, but she should act and only if there's nothing more that can be done, then she can wait and hope for the best, but not do something drastic the way Gülfem tried to once. It has clearly taken a lot of strength out of Gülfem to keep going, a strength she perhaps didn't think she had (and that was probably due to Allah too as a presumed sharer of her suffering), so she advocates for others too to find their inner strength and believe in the best, always (even if Gülfem doesn't find herself capable to do so, she can find her solace in others doing it; until of course, all these others, all her loved ones disappear in their failed rebellions which causes Gülfem to finally rebel herself, ceasing to rely on any outside force). Or else they would just be more miserable. That is the theme in her relationship with seers and the superstitious: she didn't want Hatice to go to Yakup Efendi again in E37 because she doesn't need him, whatever he says shouldn't stop her efforts to get better (and besides, the future isn't entirely in his hands, either) but it may worsen things for her if she actually goes, bringing her only worry and disappointment (as it happened). She wants for Hatice not to take all the bad omens she gets into heart, to brush them off completely as they can't fully control her life, they can't be that final say; for a while she merely advices though, if she actively does something against them, it's to prevent Hatice from becoming more miserable. But the more desperate the people around Gülfem get and the more she loses them, the wearier she becomes of what they're doing and she tries to stop them in some way (this includes Hatice's dealings with Saliha Hatun). This is why Gülfem is the most down-to-earth and the least tied to seers, the superstitious and the "magical" out of the three. She actively strives to avoid them.

Mahidevran's reliance on outside forces, her faith in Allah is established as a major part of her character right from the start, this is how she's learned to survive in a place she otherwise feels helpless and alone in; such a major part, in fact, that it's there even at one of the closest peaks we get of her past: her E55 monologue ("I prayed to Allah to help me"), perhaps clearly signifying that she's already too ingrained in this environment, that she's already adopted this culture as her own (Süleiman, Hafsa, Hatice, all of them are already her family that has likely completely overtaken any trace of the past). Her faith in the supreme justice (unlike her relationship with fate) always remains strong and consistent, only growing more and more with every experience. But what about her relationship with soothsayers, perhaps her most changing relationship with an outside force??? S02 presents an interesting nonsequential throughline: in E26, when Yakup Efendi is first mentioned and appears, we learn that he was kicked out from the palace namely because of Mahidevran. We see her having rejected him, and perhaps having rejected soothsayers in general due to bad, terrifying prophesies. She was never associated with soothsayers at all before then anyway (unlike, say, Hafsa) and there we find out why. But she's apparently accepted/embraced soothsayers once - in her E55 monologue she also mentions that she had her fortunes told and they were good fortunes, pointing at the fulfillment of her desire to be with SS then ("...That I would go through a golden road and earn my desire.") and that incited her, assured her future happiness, making it almost a given. In spite of the monologue itself too pointing at all of Mahidevran's mixed feelings at the moment (that include the soothsaying, as she had then what she's long lost now and with SS's illness she gets to grapple with that for yet another time), the soothsaying clearly remains a part of the good memory to her, maybe even a cause for it, as her tone still recounts the yearning and excitement of that day, as fresh as they've ever been. It's still unclear whether Mahidevran sought the soothsayer herself or her fortunes were told in an official visit of the soothsayer (how she says it all indicates the latter more), or whether this was prophecied by another soothsayer or Yakup Efendi himself (the latter is far more likely again as Yakup was mentioned to have been the palace seer in E26), but it's palpable how that prophecy moved Mahidevran and shaped her going forward - it seems like she's really clung to it as a mark of her feelings and her prosperous future and has started to take seers and their prophesies more into account. And when she hears that one haunting prophecy which says of her not having anymore children, she can't take it. It's way too devastating to be true, so it has to be immediately discarded. Yakup has to be immediately removed of his position in order to stop saying things that make people mad, that make them tremble and shake them and the lives they've secured to their very cores. This is another reason why losing her child in E03, losing Süleiman, him not touching her even when he calls her again afterwards and Gülşah daring to even suggest that she might be pregnant in spite of all these odds aches so. She's experiencing in real time the effects of a faraway prophecy she's tried so hard to move past.

So when she sees that this particular outside force has rebuffed her, she renounces it, moving towards an outside force above it instead: just like she enlisted Ibrahim to kick Yakup out (he can't object an order), she leans on Allah (is there anyone above Allah?) for that prophecy to be avoided, for the good to come and overcome everything instead, all of this thus fueling her belief in divine justice even more. No one, not even seers, can foresee or interfere with the will of Allah. The good is there and it has to come from somewhere. And each time one force fails, Mahidevran moves to another, testing them all, from the tangible (her supporters) to the more and more intangible (seers, fate), but in the end, she always returns to Allah as the only fully reliable force as all the others still follow their own "agenda" regardless (when she loses her supporters and loved ones, she starts leaning on Allah entirely, but finding the kind of inner strength fully within herself she didn't believe she really had before as well, through letting her remaining loved ones go as well; the reverse of Gülfem's arc). Nothing can ease Mahidevran more than Allah and his supreme justice coming in eventually. But seers have hurt her especially and she doubts them even more due to the wound they've inflicted, labeling them and abhoring their practices, especially the ones applying magic: she distrusted the seer Hatice called in E86 ("...I don't hear good things about this woman. They say she's a witch. (...) What use will she be to you?"), wanting to send her off even during her "ritual' and disapproving of her arrival in Topkapi in E87. Those who come with bad omens, upset people and mess with their lives have to be involved with something bad, with these incomprehensible powers, they have to be bad themselves (is this why Mahidevran calls Hürrem a "witch" too?). This also plays part in Mahidevran's belief in the superstitious - she might have believed in it too previously, but she pays attention to it even more given the bad stuff likely to happen that always lies in her mind deep down, and will do so even more with each loss. She almost commodifies herself with the superstitious, because it immediately tells her what exactly to avoid in order for the bad stuff not to happen; it's a distant yet reachable enough force that's also part of who she is in this harem (it's no wonder she's the character who introduces superstitions the most - the impact of broken mirror(s), the snake as bad luck etc.). This is the only way she can be more laid-back towards a soothsayer too (along with her prophesies not being entirely about her), with her what recounting Remmal Elmas is known for to Aybige in E46.

Unlike both Gülfem and Mahidevran, Hatice is established as quite wary of outside forces right from the start, albeit going with their flow in the first episodes (similarly to Gülfem). She is met with their finality and their inescapability early on; she's experienced enough in the past to believe that she can't avoid them at all when they come, especially if they are dictated namely by her closest. How can she defy her fate? How can she disappoint her loved ones? How can she stand against what she believes in even if it breaks her? Well, that is right until she reaches happiness against all odds. For once, she can see the outside environment in a suprisingly more favorable light, with her getting the chance to be with Ibrahim and her closest approving of it. This doesn't last for long, though, as they're quickly separated and she goes through a great misfortune that brings back her distrust in outside forces, amplifying it. But there's one outside force she starts leaning on more and more as time goes by: the soothsayers, Yakup Efendi in particular. She is clearly reluctant to call him at all at first namely due to his reputation (she generally seems to get even more uncertain and concerned if her closest have a bad view of what she's uncertain and concerned about as well), but her own worries, along with Hürrem's, push her to go for it anyway - both her E26 and E37/8 calls of him are hesitant, but she always chooses certainty over inaction. Because she's lived in the unknown for too long, she's aware more than anyone that the misfortune can come unexpectedly and from any place, she's terrified of one particular tragedy happening all over again (her losing her children), so she seeks guidance, any guidance she can get to know how to proceed next. She has to be absolutely sure that she and her family are going to be safe. For she wants to have someone to tell her for certain that it'll all be alright for once. That their happiness is secure for once. That there'll be nothing to prevent it for once. And the only one who can do all that is the seer, because he goes beyond empty reassurances that can't calm anyone down, he's in touch with all the outside forces beyond anyone's reach (so he's safe and can be counted on in that regard). And Hatice trusts the outside forces as much as she can control them. Even if the seer tells her something bad, she'll know what to look out for, she'll try to control it. At the end of the day, she just searches for the truth. Will everything really be okay? Will they really have peace or will a member of her family be gone for good (E38)? She feels powerless when everything points at Yakup's second prophecy becoming true: it becomes the center of all the bad outside forces for quite some time (it all leads to this, doesn't it?), so she waits for it to be fulfilled any second now (SS elevating Ibrahim in E39, Ibrahim's poisoned arrow and absense in E43-4 etc). The more bad things happen, the more Hatice ultimately leans on the outside forces she feared so much, directing them herself.

Hatice's belief in the superstitious (i.e. the statues) is similar: she's already so accustomed to bad things happening due to external forces (and her bad feelings ending up correct, on top of it!; btw, early S01 Hatice is the more stagnant aftermath period, not her norm) that she reads everything as a sign. She's used to looking for signs, she needs signs to prepare for what will await her and caution accordingly. She confronts the unfamiliar, rejecting it entirely, in order for it to go away too. Of course, the way she believes in the superstitious is also influenced by her closest and who she is. But no matter what she does, the signs Hatice desperately searches for won't leave her and she can't help but sink deeper and deeper into them and what they mean; the more she feels she loses her agency and the more people disappoint her, the most unreachable, intangible outside forces she gets into, nearly embracing them. If she can't stop them, she has to work with them, in spite of how uncertain or scary it might be. That is at its peak in S03 when she starts dealing with black magic in order to eliminate Hürrem and she searches for the whereabouts of Ibrahim's grave through unusual means. Magic is fundamentally about making things happen and Hatice wants to seek accountability and gain closure all by herself as there's no one else left to completely trust anymore. If they won't help her but only hinder her, if they don't give her what she asks of them (they can't because they don't want her to have it for one reason or another, because they've taken it away themselves!), she'll make it happen through these other ways. It's her only option now. From being wary of a seer (a "witch" in this case) due to their fame and abilities, to their fame and abilities being the very reasons why she's calling them in the first place. She wants them to do exactly what they're known for in spite of any possible danger, even for herself. She won't stop at anything until they've all fulfilled their purpose. She almost "engulfs herself" in their practices, no matter how wrong it may seem (her regrets in E90 can signal towards this). Hatice has always been most tied with all of it anyway, so why not dig in deeper? What else is there to lose? Hatice's faith in Allah is also fascinating in that it isn't as prominent. She of course prays to him for Ibrahim to come back safe and sound for the campaigns and brings him up sometimes in her fury towards someone ("Allah will punish you" etc.), but not much outside of that. Is it because Allah is the biggest outside force she can't even try to reach? Or is it perhaps because his ways and will turn out reminders of all the undesired paths she has to follow?

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

On the one hand I love short king Luffy and his brick shit house boyfriend but on the other hand I think it would be hilarious if Luffy gets a late growth spurt that puts him at like eight and a half fucking feet, right around the same height as his dad and gramps, but absolutely nothing about his and Zoro’s dynamic changes. Luffy becomes one of those big ass dogs that still thinks it’s a lap dog and Zoro has to endure his giant husband climbing on him and tackling him and hanging off him like he’s a jungle gym because Luffy Refuses to understand that he now has three feet and damn near a hundred pounds on Zoro and he should maybe stop acting like he’s a cat and Zoro is his perch. I also think it would be very funny to graft Luffy’s personality into such a big ass man. Let me see this loud, affectionate fool gum-gum rocket his long-suffering first mate into orbit. It’ll be Luffy and his “Sorry, Zoro” against Zoro’s “I swear I’m gonna cut this guy someday” all the way to the end. And I think that’s beautiful.

[seichira]

the missiles we fire.

wherein ran haitani knows he has to let you go but he just can’t. he is aware that you’re hurting because of him but he chooses to string you along—until you finally decide that enough is enough.

pairing : bonten!ran x reader

content : fwb to lovers. angst to comfort. sfw but has allusions to sleeping together. reader with she/her pronouns. ran is a good brother. groveling. inspired by renegade by taylor swift!

he has never felt this way before.

no one has ever made him want to fix himself up. there is no other person who has made him wish that he had a better past so he can be a better person in the present.

ran haitani has never considered the thought of compromising and adjusting himself for one person until he met you—the bane of his damn existence.

not a single soul in his pathetic, dull world could make him feel the way you do. that is exactly why he is guarding his heart more than he ever has, because he smells the danger that comes with you, the danger of falling in love and getting hurt beyond repair.

he met you a year ago and you have been by his side since then, but he has not given you his heart. you sleep beside him on most nights when he needs you, but he keeps you on arms length when it comes to affection.

you hold his hand when it shakes with his anxiety but he refuses to grip you just as hard. you kiss his jaw when it tenses with his annoyance but you don’t miss the way he pulls away whenever you do so.

your bodies are intimate with each other most nights but while your heart is all laid out for him to take, his is the opposite. his heart is guarded by a strong wall that he never lets down. a wall you can’t seem to get past.

but lately, he can feel the guards on his heart wavering. and lately, he doesn’t want to see you because ran knows he is close to breaking down everything to let you in.

the past months, he has been wanting to whisper the three words to you when he is in your bed. he finds himself wanting to hold your hand when you walk side by side. he catches himself craving your warmth when the nights are cold. he wants to hold your hand as tight as you hold his. he longs to kiss you back when you kiss his demons away.

suddenly, he wants you.

he can’t have that. his irrational fear of losing rindou someday is already too much to bear. he can’t afford to fear losing another person.

he can’t. he shouldn’t.

he knows all that, but he can’t let you go.

he can’t give you everything, he refuses to let you in, but he somehow chooses to keep you.

in every passing day, it kills the life in you. it ignites the doubts and the insecurities you always had. it forms huge question marks in your head and it drives you insane.

“what am i doing wrong, ran?” your breath shakes and ran notices it as you are resting your head on his chest on the sofa where you both had fallen asleep an hour ago.

he swears his heart skips a beat when he hears you start the conversation that he has been dreading since he realized he might have something deeper in store for you.

this man knows exactly what you are talking about, but he decides to play dumb. “what do you mean?”

somehow, he wishes that there is a way to divert the topic and stray from this conversation that he knows is never going to end well. a conversation that can possibly change everything you both have.

“i want to know what i’m doing wrong, or what is not enough. what else do i need to do.. for you to open up your heart for me?��

he refuses to look at your eyes when you sit properly to look at him. he keeps his head turned away from you because seeing your tearful face will not do him good.

“it’s not what you’re doing wrong. there’s nothing else you could do. i just…” fuck, he curses in his mind. “i just want it this way.”

“what way, haitani? stringing me along?”

“we never agreed to having feelings—“

you cut him off before he can even spew out his bullshits. “but you know that’s not the case for me! i love you, and i understand that you don’t feel the same…”

ran squeezes his eyes shut because your last sentence just doesn’t seem right. he knows that you are in love with him and most of the time, he uses that to his advantage. but for you to believe that he doesn’t love you?

it doesn’t feel right.

it’s not right.

“…and that’s alright, really. i understand that you don’t feel the same, but ran, i think this set up between us will work better if you do it with others.”

this alarms him and he now has his eyes on you. there are tears threatening from your eyes as you stare at him like he hung the stars in the sky, as if he is not breaking your heart in this very moment.

“what do you mean?” ran asks in a controlled voice but he fails to mask the fear that is laced with it. he is terrified of the implications of what you just said. he can’t accept it.

“i’m just saying—this friends with benefits thing? it won’t work with us anymore because i love you. you can… find other people… to do this with, because i can’t do it any longer.”

his eyes start to sting from the tears that suddenly want to burst out of the dam. his fear is becoming more and more true as the conversation progresses and ran just wants to go back to an hour before when you were all cuddled up in his arms.

still, he knows it’s unfair. while he was peacefully holding you, it is now clear that the questions you had in your made were plaguing you. while he was alright, he was also breaking your heart.

“what are you saying to me?” he needs to hear it from you directly. it is going to break his heart but he wants to hear it anyway.

“let me go.”

he knows he has to.

he knows you’re right.

he knows keeping you here will only hurt you.

he knows. he knows. he knows. but still—

“what if i don’t want to?”

that was the trigger for you to break down and release the tears and broken sobs you have been suppressing.

“then, make me understand why you can hold me like this but not give me your heart. make me understand. please, ran. if you can’t let me go, at least help me understand why i’m here.”

ran curses himself as he can quite literally feel his heart being powdered into fine pieces while he watches you beg for him. for his heart. a heart that has been battered and bruised through the years but you love anyway.

“y-you know that i try to give you what you n-need,” his voice breaks so he pauses, “but you also know what i’ve been through. what i’m afraid of. you know everything.”

you shake your head. “is it really your past and your fears that keep you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to?”

he can’t come up with an answer.

“let me go. please, let me go.”

he grips your hand when you try to stand up in a feeble attempt to make you stay. his last resort. his desperation reeks in the way he squeezes your hand.

“i can’t do that. ask me for anything but that, please,” his voice breaks once again.

“but can you love me? can you give me everything? your heart, your secrets, your desires? can you love me enough to let down your walls for me, ran?”

he doesn’t answer, and you smile sadly. there goes your answer—his silence. it has always spoken for him when his words fail him.

at this point, you are just tired. you have no fight left in you. you fulfill the promise you made to yourself when you said you will accept whatever he says and erase yourself from his life gracefully.

ran sees that and he regrets not noticing when you decided to ask him to let you go.

“then, for the sake of the both of us, i beg you to please let me go.”

the daggers that rindou throws at his older brother through his eyes could kill. his blood boils as he watches ran drown himself in alcohol because of some stupid shit he brought upon himself.

“tell me again why you fuckin’ let her go. ‘cuz i can’t understand why you’re sulking like a little girl and poisoning yourself with damn alcohol when it was you who pushed her away.”

the sarcastic tone is not appreciated by ran and he glares at his younger brother in return.

“you just don’t get it, do you? you know our life! she doesn’t fit here! she’s too good for this shit! and what do i do if she gets hurt because of this hellhole, huh? what, then?”

rindou raises an eyebrow, “she literally knew the dangers that came with your life when she decided to love you. save your excuses. you’re just fucking stupid.”

ran stares into space as he takes that in. after a few moments, he speaks. “i’m scared that i’ll lose her.”

the younger haitani laughs maniacally without humor. “well, news flash, you already did—“

“fucker. she’s still in this world, isn’t she?”

“guess so.”

“that’s what i mean. i’d rather not have her in my arms than to lose her in this goddamn pitiful world.”

ran takes another shot from his whiskey and rindou stands up to take the bottle away from his godforsaken brother.

“give me that—!”

“if she was mine, i’d just keep her by my side and love her, and not let anyone lay a finger on her. you underestimate bonten and its capability to protect your girl.”

ran mumbles drunkenly as he gives up trying to get back his stolen bottle. he rests his head on the backrest of the sofa he is on.

“you don’t know shit, rin.”

“nah. i fuckin’ know ‘ya. these are all excuses. you’re making all these up to cover up the fact that you blame yourself for the life we lived and now, you think you don’t deserve her.”

the older haitani starts to tear up at the memory of not being able to give his brother a more decent life when they were younger. he remembers the days when he almost lost rindou to a rival gang because he failed to come home on time.

“the fuck are you? my shrink?” he asks in the middle of his silent crying. rindou sees that and he feels a pinch in his heart for his brother who has always been scared of losing him.

it is rindou’s turn to take a shot from the whiskey, to gain courage for what he is about to say. “i’m your brother. i know it when my brother hates himself.”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“i wanna tell you that you don’t have to. you gave me a life full of pretty cool memories so stop beating yourself up. get your damn girl so i won’t have to watch this pathetic display!”

ran wants to blame his emotions on the alcohol but the words of his brother really are the cause of his tears. he suddenly feels forgiven. vindicated, even—from the regrets he harbors against himself.

his younger brother feels that he is closer to getting ran to listen to him, so he pushes.

“she loves you. i saw it with my own eyes, ran. she is in love with you. while you hated yourself, you were demolishing her. just fuckin’ forgive yourself and love her, damn it!”

that night, for the first time in his life, thinks that maybe it was not his fault that he and his brother had lived a difficult life. for the first time, he considers the thought that maybe, he deserves to have your love after all.

you open your door at five in the morning after being woken up by continuous rings on your doorbell, and as if that isn’t enough, there are even accompanied by impatient knocks on your door.

“i swear to god, if this isn’t worth waking me up in these ungodly hours—ran?”

he had just barely sobered himself up but he had to run to you before cowardice gets the best of him. he just had to tell you right now.

“i love you.”

“ran, what—“

he sucks in a huge breath, preparing to speak in one long breath-hold. “i am in love with you. i fell in love with you way before you fell in love with me but i was too scared to admit that. i was afraid that i didn’t deserve you. i was terrified that loving you would mean more hurt for me—but here’s the truth now. here is my truth. fuck my anxieties. fuck everything. i need you. i want you.”

you open the door more widely and you take in his cheeks with your hands, and he relishes in the feel of your warmth for the first time since you walked out of his penthouse a month ago.

“i’m sorry for what i put you through. i’m sorry for hurting you. i can’t promise that i won’t hurt you but i promise that i will actively try not to do that intentionally.”

“i never blamed you for what i felt, ran.”

an angel is what you are. an angel that he is starting to accept that a fallen one like him deserves. an angel for him.

“i will give you everything, y/n. i will give you my heart because i want to. because i need to. i can’t breathe without you. take me back. please, tell me that you’ll take me back.”

it is an easy decision for you. he is shaking in your hands and there is nothing else to do but finally welcome him in your arms again.

there is no other choice but to take him back because it finally makes sense why you always felt like he felt the same love for you. you finally understand why. your questions are finally answered—how can you refuse him?

ran falls apart in your arms, and he embraces you tighter than you hugged him. he holds you tight in fear that he might lose you again. he wraps you tight in his arms so you won’t slip away like a dream that ends.

“i’ve only ever wished for you to come around, ran. you should know by now that i will stay with you in spite of your past, in spite of your regrets, in spite the way you feel about yourself. i’m here to stay, if you love me.”

he no longer has to say it. the way he keeps his face in the crook of your neck and leaving revered kisses at the back of your ear is enough to let you know that he does.

“my heart was only guarded so much when it came to you because it knew that it belonged to you. i’m letting down my guards, baby.”

you slightly pull away so you can look at his eyes. the eyes that you used to wish upon a star are now staring back at you with the same adoration and love.

“that’s everything i need to hear, ran.”

“i am in love with you.”

you smile, “and that.”

“i don’t want you to be my future history. i want you with me forever. i want people to know us, that i belong to you and you to me.”

“that, too.”

you tiptoe to kiss his jaw and he shifts his head so he can reach your lips instead. relief washes over him when it dawns on him that this is real. you are real, and this time, he won’t mess it up.

the missiles he used to fire will be replaced by your gentleness and love, and that’s the kind of change that he can live with. because it’s you.

[foone]

The worst part of working at the Dimensional Nexus is that we don't get the regular internet there so you can't just watch your shows on Netflix or whatever. We gotta stick to analog media, since the digital stuff doesn't deal well with the temporal flux (the analog stuff doesn't either, but it's usually just a fuzzy image for a second, while your computer just crashes).

Everyone brings in their favorite media from home on old analog tapes (or laserdiscs. They're analog too! And we've got a couple hardened players on the lounge, so we can watch them).

Anyway while you're on-base (which could be for months or years), all your (video) media consumption ends up being on CRTs and piles of tapes you brought or traded with coworkers. Most people bring in a second suitcase of tapes so they'll have something to watch.

I brought in some letsplayers I stuck on a few VHS tapes (yt2vhs is a great program), and box sets of Star Trek: TNG and DS9.

About a month in, the trades really open up, as everyone has watched their own tapes and wants more. I got a good deal on a laserdisc of the Soviet version of... Well, nevermind. But let me just say, in my defense, the author of the books never went off the deep in in that universe, and the Soviet version wasn't made with her cooperation, anyway. I know that's sometimes a little difficult for people from the 91-verse to believe, but that's not the author's reputation in the rest of the Nexus.

Anyway I traded my TNG episodes for VOY. I've seen TNG a dozen times, so I figured it was time to go back over VOY.

It seemed to be pretty similar to what I remembered (other than them killing off Seska of all people at the beginning of S3? Who kills off your series's main villain?!) but at the end of S3 I hit the big divergence between our universes:

Seven. They introduced him early on in Scorpion, part 1, earlier than I remember.

The storyline goes mostly the same, with just a little less 7/Janeway romantic tension (do they even get together in this version? I'm gonna have to wait until season 5 to find out!)

Harry Kim lives in this version of Scorpion, too. I'm not sure why that is, they were clearly setting him up to die? Probably some executive meddling or something. I don't have access to Trekpedia (especially in that universe!) to check.

But yeah. This is one of the universes that got the twinky Seven instead of the catsuit-girl version (Not that this version wears any fewer catsuits). They got 9 seasons instead of the usual 5, so I'm excited to see if those extra ones are any good. When I was picking up the tapes I was surprised how many there were, and Josh told me in his universe they get home in season 6 and the remaining 3 seasons are a sort of spin-off/reboot done when Orbita took over from UPN.

Can't wait to see how that goes. More Star Treks need a post-script season (or three) made in the USSR!

Anyway I'm already looking forward to finishing this because I've already gotten a lead on a copy of TNG where Yaphet Kotto said Yes to the Picard role (sadly that version doesn't have the quintessential Jeffrey Combs as Riker, but I hear some people swear by the Gregg Marx Riker).

Still looking for any copies of the Kim Miyori-as-Data version of TNG. That one wasn't as popular (not it's vault! They had the US Doctor Who and both the Star Wars shows to go up against) so it's less likely to be brought in, but I'm always checking video libraries whenever I'm in that universe. Someday I'll find it. I found that fucking CED of the Walken A New Hope, I'll get the girl!Data TNG one of these days!

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", still decently tame, sukuna rides a motorcycle, eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: as I said, I had three parts already written for this before I even posted part one (ᵕ—ᴗ—) so, enjoy ya filthy animals

index part one | part three

part three word count : 3,437

you couldn’t quite figure out how or why Sukuna kept ending up at the bar as you, at the same time, every day since your first encounter. yet, like clockwork, you found yourself leaving work and heading to that bar – the one where you’d first crossed paths. maybe it was a subconscious decision, a quiet hope that he’d be there again, just like he had been the last time, and the time before that.

each encountered felt like a dance. you couldn’t even recall the last time you’d ordered a drink for yourself. Sukuna always had two waiting – one for him, one for you. he seemed to know you’d show up, his confidence practically radiating. it had to be his cockiness that convinced him of your arrival each day. 

but Sukuna wasn’t oblivious. he’d pieced together that the bar was just around the corner from your workplace, and with a little persistence and some well-placed tips to the bartender, he gained the little slice of knowledge that you were a regular. your resistance intrigued him, even if it grated on his nerves. how had you managed to keep him at arm’s length this long? this game was new territory for him; women usually threw themselves at him, eagerly falling into bed. but you? you were different – a challenge he hadn’t enjoyed in ages.

“are you an alcoholic, or what?” you teased, smirking as you approached him from behind. right on time. Sukuna didn’t bother answering. instead, he slid a pint across the bar to the stool next to him and patted the seat, silently inviting you to take your place. beside him.

you scoffed, half in disbelief. you weren’t sure if his behavior was bordering on stalker territory or if he was just that determined to win whatever strange game he’d started two weeks ago. and yet, despite your better judgment, you took the open seat.

over time, those two post-work hours with him each night had become a strange sort of routine. little by little, you’d pried bits of personal information from him. he had two brother and was the oldest. he worked as a tattoo artist – a quick internet search confirmed he was quite popular locally – and he wanted to eventually open his own shop someday.

and then there was the breakup. he’d mentioned it briefly, almost casually, as if it wasn’t any true trouble to him. but the details? those he left vague.

“while I don’t mind doing this every day, when are you going to let me take you out on a real date?” Sukuna asked, his devilish smirk firmly in place as he watched you take a sip of your drink.

“I don’t know.” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “it’s been pretty entertaining coming here after work and find your raggedy ass sitting in the same spot every time.” you grinned over the rim of your glass, already bracing yourself for his comeback. something wicked flickered in his eyes, and you knew you’d poked the bear.

“raggedy ass?” Sukuna repeated, arching a brow with an amused grin. “you and my little brother would get along way too well.”

“probably.” you shot back. “I’ve only had to tolerate you for two weeks, but he’s already my hero for dealing with you his whole life.”

Sukuna laughed – a deep, booming sound that felt like it reverberated through your chest. it wasn’t something you’d intended, but you found yourself liking the sound: loud, unapologetic, and enough to draw attention from others in the bar. you were pretty sure if anyone dared to complain, they’d shut up instantly with a remark from his sharp tongue.

when his laughter subsided, Sukuna rested his chin in his hand, gaze fixed on you. “how about we play a little game?” he asked, his tone low and teasing.

“aren’t we already playing one?” you replied, shooting him a pointed look.

“this one’s simple.” his smirk widened. “I’ll be here, same time as usual tomorrow. if you show up again, I’ll take that as a yes to a date with me. a proper date, not just sitting in a bar down the street from your work.

you averted your gaze, aware of the heat rising in your cheeks. a real date? you’d gotten so comfortable here, trading playful insults and talking with him so casually every evening. would a date change things?

Sukuna studied your face while you thought in silence, the corner of his mouth twitching in satisfaction. he knew he’d caught you off guard. he thought you look so cute, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed, unable to meet his gaze. flustered – that’s what it was. and he liked you that way far more than he cared to admit.

“not sure you’d survive a real date with me,” you said, finally meeting his eyes, your voice steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

Sukuna’s grin deepened, revealing the faintest hint of sharp canines. “oh, sweetheart, I’d survive just fine. the real question is, could you handle it?”

there it was—that cocky, self-assured attitude that was both infuriating and magnetic. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “bold of you to assume I even want to.”

“I don’t assume,” he replied smoothly, leaning closer. “I know. you wouldn’t keep showing up here if you didn’t enjoy my company.” his voice dipped lower, like a secret meant only for you. “I can see it in the way you’re smiling right now, no matter how much you try to hide it.”

your smile faltered for a second, but the smug look on his face spurred you to regain your footing. “or maybe I just like the free drinks,” you teased, taking a long sip from your glass.

Sukuna barked out another laugh, drawing more curious glances from around the bar. he didn’t care. “fair enough. but tomorrow? no drinks, no games—just you and me. that is, if you show up.” he gave you a look that was both a challenge and an invitation. “think you’re brave enough?”

brave enough? the audacity.

“you’re really not going to drop this, are you?” you asked, setting your glass down and crossing your arms.

“not a chance,” Sukuna replied, leaning back with an air of triumph. “but hey, if you’re too scared, just say so.”

you glared at him, lips twitching as you tried not to laugh. “I’m not scared.”

“good,” he said, standing up suddenly and throwing a few bills on the counter. “then I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.” he grabbed his leather jacket, slinging it over his shoulder as he looked down at you one last time. “and don’t be late, princess.”

with that, Sukuna turned and walked out, leaving you sitting there, torn between frustration and attraction. you hated how much his confidence got under your skin, and yet you couldn’t deny the thrill that came with every interaction.

you sighed, finishing the rest of your drink. tomorrow, huh? you weren’t sure if you’d go—but the thought of skipping out and letting him win so easily? that didn’t sit right with you either.

as you left the bar that night, one thing was clear: Sukuna had officially gotten under your skin, and you weren’t entirely sure how to shake him. or if you even wanted to.

-

the next evening, you found yourself lingering outside the bar longer than usual. it wasn’t hesitation keeping you there—not entirely. maybe it was nerves, though you hated to admit that Sukuna had gotten into your head like this.

the thought of his smug grin waiting for you inside was both infuriating and... exciting. you sighed, steeling yourself, and pushed the door open.

as always, Sukuna was there, seated in his usual spot, leaning back against the bar like he owned the damn place. he didn’t even look up when the door creaked open. instead, he glanced at his watch, his grin forming before he turned to you. “right on time, princess,” he drawled, eyes raking over you with a lazy confidence that set your nerves alight. “knew you couldn’t resist.”

you rolled your eyes, brushing past a couple of patrons on your way to his side. “don’t get too full of yourself, ass. you know I was already in the area.”

“oh, yeah?” he said, sliding a fresh drink in your direction without missing a beat. “and I suppose it’s just a coincidence that you didn’t choose another bar?”

you took the drink—not because he offered, of course, but because it was easier than engaging with his nonsense right away. “you’re awfully cocky for someone who still hasn’t gotten a yes,” you retorted, sipping slowly and watching his reaction.

Sukuna laughed, the deep, familiar sound somehow settling your nerves even as it annoyed you. “you showing up is all the ‘yes’ I need,” he said, turning to face you fully now, his arm resting casually on the back of your chair. “so, what’s it gonna be? you gonna let me sweep you off your feet tonight?”

you raised an eyebrow. “sweep me off my feet? that’s ambitious. I’m not that easily impressed.”

“challenge accepted,” he replied without hesitation. he leaned in just slightly, close enough for his voice to drop into that low, taunting tone he seemed to know got under your skin. “I’ve been playing nice, but maybe it’s time I stepped up my game.”

you tilted your head, meeting his gaze head-on. “oh, this was you playing nice?”

“careful,” he warned, smirking. “keep testing me, and you might find out what happens when I stop.”

the tension between you crackled like static, a silent standoff as neither of you broke eye contact. it was exhilarating, maddening, and far too entertaining for you to even think about leaving now. you couldn’t deny the heat you felt wash over your body, from your head to your toes you were… bothered to say the least.

finally, Sukuna leaned back, breaking the moment with a smug chuckle. “finish your drink, sweetheart. we’ve got a reservation.”

you blinked. “a reservation? you made plans?”

“don’t sound so surprised,” he said, standing and tossing a few bills on the bar. “I told you, tonight’s a proper date. you coming, or are you chickening out?”

you didn’t move right away, deliberately taking another sip of your drink just to make him wait. but as much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, the curiosity was too strong to ignore.

setting your glass down, you stood and grabbed your coat. “alright, Sukuna,” you said, brushing past him toward the door. “show me what you’ve got.”

his grin widened as he followed, the thrill of the chase sparking in his eyes. 

the cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stepped out of the bar, Sukuna following close behind. “so,” you started, glancing back at him. “where’s this ‘proper date’ happening? let me guess—a hole in the wall with sticky floors and loud music?”

“cute,” Sukuna replied, his smirk firmly in place. “but no. I’m classier than that.”

“sure you are,” you muttered, half teasing. “alright, then. impress me.”

“don’t worry, princess,” he said, leading you down the sidewalk. “I will.”

your steps slowed as you spotted a sleek, black motorcycle parked just ahead, a matching black helmet tied to the handlebar. Sukuna stopped next to it and turned to you with a grin that could only be described as wicked.

“seriously?” you asked, gesturing toward the bike. “this is how you’re taking me on a proper date?”

“what? you don’t trust me?” he teased, pulling a spare helmet from the back and tossing it to you.

you caught it, arching a brow. “not sure trust is the word I’d use. what is this, your bad-boy routine?”

he laughed. “sweetheart, this is the routine. now, are you getting on, or are you too scared?”

your jaw clenched at the challenge in his tone. no way were you letting him think you’d back down. you placed the helmet on your head, snapping it into place as he watched with obvious amusement.

“let’s get this over with,” you said, climbing onto the bike behind him.

Sukuna smiled as he mounted the motorcycle, his hands gripping the handlebars with ease. “hold on tight, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

you hesitated for half a second before wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body beneath his jacket – god above even the muscles in his abdomen that your arms pressed themselves into. he revved the engine, and before you could overthink it, the bike took off.

the rush of the wind was exhilarating, the world blurring as Sukuna navigated through the city streets. you clung to him, your earlier nerves replaced by something close to excitement. it wasn’t long before he slowed, pulling into a quiet side street lined with warm lights and the soft hum of activity.

when he finally stopped outside a small, cutesy restaurant, you climbed off the bike and removed your helmet, smoothing down your hair. “this is it?” you asked, eyeing the sign above the door and noticing the patio with fairy lights out back. “didn’t peg you as this type.”

“guess I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, smirking as he stowed the helmets. 

you rolled your eyes, but the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your curiosity. Sukuna held the door open for you, and as you stepped inside, the cozy atmosphere of the restaurant wrapped around you.

“you’re really going all out, huh?” you said, glancing back at him.

he leaned down slightly, just enough for his words to feel like a private joke. “when I do something, I do it right.”

you cast a glance over your shoulder as Sukuna followed you in, his imposing figure drawing a few curious looks from the other customers. it wasn’t hard to see why. even here, dressed in his leather jacket and with his strong presence, Sukuna looked like he belonged in the chaos of a fight, not the quiet comfort of a place like this. yet somehow, he seemed perfectly at ease.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or suspicious,” you said, crossing your arms. “how’d you even get us a table here on short notice?”

he smirked, casually slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “let’s just say I know how to get what I want.”

“of course you do,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

the host appeared, guiding you to a corner table that offered a little privacy from the rest of the customer. Sukuna pulled out your chair, a surprising gesture that earned a skeptical look from you.

“since when are you the gentleman type?” you asked, sitting down cautiously.

“since now,” he replied smoothly, taking his seat across from you. “don’t get used to it.”

the two of you read over the menu in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. it wasn’t awkward, though – more like another game you were both quietly playing, testing each other’s patience and resolve.

when the waiter came, Sukuna ordered with casual confidence, even surprising you with his knowledge of the wine list. as the waiter walked away, you leaned forward, narrowing your eyes.

“okay, what’s the deal?” you asked. “this doesn’t seem like your usual scene.”

he leaned back in his chair, his smirk never wavering. “what, you think I spend all my time in bars and back alleys?”

“well, yeah,” you said bluntly, earning a low chuckle from him.

“trust me,” he said, resting his forearms on the table, “I know how to handle myself in places like this. just because I like to keep things casual doesn’t mean I can’t step it up when I need to.”

you tilted your head, studying him. he was a contradiction—a mix of rough edges and sharp wit, seeming to be someone who thrived on chaos yet could navigate moments like this with unsettling ease.

as you racked your brain to try and put the pieces of the puzzle that is Sukuna together, he gazed at you. your cocked head, pursed lips and eyebrows, all of it gave him feelings he didn’t know he could feel. he wanted to pinch your cheeks and take a bite out of you all in the same move. 

sure, originally, he had considered his efforts to be a fun little game – something he’d become an expert at. but this time it wasn’t a game he wanted to get a metaphorical trophy for at the end. he wanted to win, and keep winning over and over again. Sukuna’s end goal wasn’t to get you into bed, although he’d already spent much time thinking about what it would be like, but he wanted you to like him. want him. need him.

“so what’s your game, Sukuna?” you asked, deciding to drop the pretense. “you don’t strike me as the ‘dinner date’ type.”

he grinned, leaning in slightly. “maybe I’m just curious.”

“about what?”

“about you.” his tone was teasing, but his crimson eyes betrayed a flicker of something more serious, more genuine. “you don’t make it easy, and I like that.”

you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, but you refused to look away. “curious, huh? that’s a dangerous game to play.”

“good,” Sukuna said, his grin widening. “danger’s where I’m most comfortable.”

though you’d never admit it to him, you were starting to like the way he made you feel: a little off-balance, a little reckless, and very, very alive.

As Sukuna watched you across the table, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. You were trying hard to keep your composure, but he’d already noticed the small tells—how your fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of your napkin, how you avoided meeting his eyes for too long. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to feed his ego.

Sukuna had always been good at reading people—what made them tick, what made them crumble. With most, it was laughably easy. Flash a smirk, lean in close, say the right thing, and they’d melt like butter. But you? You weren’t impressed by his confidence or his looks. You pushed back, called him out, and never let him feel like he had the upper hand for long.

It was infuriating.

And, strangely enough, addictive.

He watched as your brow furrowed slightly as you studied him. That curious little look you always got when you thought he wasn’t paying attention – it was becoming one of his favorite expressions on you.

“What?” you asked, catching him staring.

“Nothing,” Sukuna said, smirking as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Just wondering what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “If you think flattery’s going to get you anywhere, you’re wasting your time.”

“Who says I’m wasting it?” he shot back, enjoying the way you stiffened slightly. “I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And that, to his surprise, was true.

He’d spent years chasing thrills—fights, chaos, women who came and went without leaving so much as a mark. But this? Sitting across from you, trading sharp words and stolen glances, felt different. It wasn’t just the chase that drew him to you. It was the fact that you didn’t back down.

You weren’t scared of him.

You intrigued him in ways he hadn’t expected, and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt the thrill of not knowing how something would end.

As the meal went on, he found himself talking more than he usually did, letting slip bits and pieces of himself he hadn’t planned on sharing. He didn’t know why he bothered – maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the way you actually listened, meeting his words with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.

When the plates were cleared and the bill paid, Sukuna stood, offering you his hand. You stared at it for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Relax, princess. I don’t bite.” although he wanted to.

an inappropriate response almost slipped past your lips, almost asking him to do just that. “Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, but you took his hand anyway, letting him pull you to your feet. 

As you stepped outside, Sukuna handed you the helmet once more, watching as you adjusted it with that same fiery determination that had hooked him from the start.

Maybe this was dangerous. Maybe you’d be his undoing.

But Sukuna had never been one to back down from a challenge—and you, he realized, were one he didn’t want to win too quickly.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[forzalando]

okay so i had a look at the prompt list and it made me think of a few scenarios🤭 it can honestly be ideas for blurbs, bigger fics or just brain rot, whatever you’re comfortable with:)

first one i came up with - daniel + "Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do."

i’ve always felt like danny is a perfect for second chance romance:)

hello, hello! thank you so much for your requests!! this is definitely longer than a blurb lol but i was inspired and kept writing! i hope you enjoy it!! Daniel Ricciardo x ex!reader wc: 1.4k warnings: angst, curse words, mentions of drinking

You knew in your heart that you’d see Daniel Ricciardo again someday – but you never pictured it like this.

In your mind, you’d be out at a club in Monaco and lock eyes across the room or you’d finally accept one of Max’s invitations to come to a race and have to explain why you were there.

You never once entertained the idea that he’d seek you out – let alone show up to your apartment late at night in the pouring rain, but Daniel was dramatic. Passionate. He always has been. It was one of the reasons you first fell in love with him, he never did anything or said anything halfway.

When you heard the frantic knocking at your door, you should’ve expected it, but you didn’t. And now he was here, dripping water onto your floors, chest heaving with the smell of whiskey and his cologne surrounding you.

“Why did you leave me?” He asked you, the vulnerability in his voice like a punch to your gut.

“Daniel, it’s late, we can talk about this in the morning. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

“No, I want to talk about it now. Why did you leave me? Why was it so easy for you to leave me? And don’t call me Daniel, you never called me Daniel.”

“It wasn’t easy. Nothing about the past three months has been easy. And let’s not forget who left first. I may have been the one to say “we’re done” but you had been checked out long before then. All you cared about was your standings and getting Checo’s Red Bull seat. Congrats, by the way. I hope it was worth it.”

He winced at your words. At first, you supported him wholeheartedly. The rumor mill in general was vicious but the Formula One rumor mill was an entirely other beast. After Danny’s return in the 2023 season, all eyes were on him to perform then and throughout 2024. Checo’s seat would be up for grabs, he hadn’t been performing at the level he should have been in a Red Bull, and so Danny set his sights on a top team seat that everyone said could be his.

Somewhere along the way, he forgot himself. He forgot you. Late nights on the sim, time spent with Max both due to friendship and to talk about how possible it was for them to be teammates once again. You knew Max, and you knew that Max knew Daniel, so you knew that Max would give him just enough to keep that fire in his belly and keep pushing. He had to think things weren’t final up until the very end, even though you’d found out recently that they’d decided on Danny not even eight races into the season.

It took until summer break for you to muster up the courage to talk to Danny – to tell him how hurt you were that the only time he talked to you was to vent about a race or to make you feel guilty for not being at all of them. In all the years you’d been together, he’d never made you feel that way before. He promised he would turn things around. He’d sobbed in your arms that he could never lose you.

And yet, he did. Things didn’t change. If anything, they got worse with the added pressure of sitting just outside the top 10 in standings and Yuki performing extremely well in the second half of the season.

“I wasn’t fair to you,” he whispered. “I knew it then and I know it even more now, but I promise you. I swear to you. I will never be that way again.”

“And how can I trust you? You said the same thing to me six months ago when I came to you ready to leave and I gave you a chance. I stayed, and nothing changed. What’s different now?”

He opened his mouth to answer, and you knew what he would say. That he had the seat, that he wouldn’t be under that constant pressure. He could prioritize you. He would be the man you fell in love with.

“Don’t even start with me, Daniel. That’s bullshit. You may have the seat but it’ll be even worse now. If you make one mistake, the media will tear you apart. You’ll always be compared to Max. Hell, look what Red Bull did to Pierre and Alex! Talk to them! One fuck up and you’re done! There’s no way they made your contract any more favorable than the others, no matter how much respect there is between you and Christian.”

“I’m not Pierre or Alex, do you think they’re better than me? And that if they couldn’t handle it neither can I? You don’t believe in me?”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying, don’t put words in my mouth. I’ve always believed in you and I always will. I’m only trying to make you realize that the pressure will be even worse now, so how can you promise me that things between us would be better?”

The dead silence enveloped you – he said nothing in return, though you weren’t sure if he was quiet because he didn’t care to fight, or because you had scared him.

You didn’t want to keep going in circles, you’d said your piece and hoped that Daniel would understand. “I’m tired, Danny. Can we just go to sleep? The spare bedroom is made up, some of your old clothes are in there.”

Calling him Danny was a slip – it was what everyone called him, what you always called him, and he always claimed it was different coming from you. No one else said it with the love and care that you did. Even now, through all the hurt, the pain, the distance, he could hear the emotion in the way you said it.

He looked straight into your eyes, renewed determination and love – like it had never fizzled out between you.

“I’ll quit.”

You turned around and laughed, refusing to look at his face while he mocked you. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel.”

“I’m serious.”

When you looked back at him, his phone was pulled out of his pocket. He was typing furiously, swiping droplets of water off the screen when they dripped down from his curls. After a few moments, he slid his phone across the counter to you, the screen lit up.

An email was sent to his attorney, asking what his options were if he wanted to get out of his contract with Red Bull before he even had a chance to drive the car.

“You are more important to me than any car, any team, any career. You’re more important to me than anything in this world. I fucked up and I lost the best thing in my life because I thought something else would make it better, make me happier, and the only thing I could think about when I signed that stupid contract was how badly I wished I had been the man you deserve so that you could have been there next to me. Celebrating with me. It means nothing to me without you.”

He'd moved closer to you, tentatively reaching to wipe the tears gathering on your lash line and then swiping with his thumb to catch those that fell.

“There will never be anyone else that I love,” he whispered. “Please let me prove to you that this isn’t how things are supposed to end. It’s you and me, forever.”

“Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, Danny. I can’t do it again. Do not make me do it again.” You fell into his embrace despite his soaked clothes, and for the first time in months you felt like you could breathe again.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in your kitchen until sunbeams bloomed on the horizon – clothes sticking to your skin, sharing kisses that tasted like rainwater. You began to doze off eventually, tucked into Danny’s side, but before you lost yourself to sleep completely you mumbled into his chest.  

“Also, when your lawyer emails you back, tell him you were drunk and it was a dare. You’re not quitting, though I appreciate the gesture.”

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

transcript + more info

berenice: aha! she'll never find me here watcher: you mean 'here'? "in moonwood mill, my most favouritist of worlds 'here'?" berenice: ahhhh! i mean, i didn't do it? i've been framed. it was the full autonomy, i swear... watcher: did you just sign up for deanna's bachelorette? berenice: maybe... yes? watcher: do you even *like* other women? berenice: i like other women! i have other women... friends?? watcher: *SIGH* watcher: berenice, this kind of stuff just doesn't happen in real life berenice: what kind of stuff? watcher: he will never like you back like that berenice: he? who's he??? watcher: don't be obtuse, i can see your moodlets berenice: well this isn't real life because i'm a pixel! silly you, watcher...

BERENICE "BERNIE" SMALLS

Young Adult • Ciswoman (she/her) • Physics Major (incoming senior)

TRAITS: genius, overachiever, cringe, paranoid, socially awkward, creative (bonuses: mentally gifted, always welcome, morning sim, night sim, storm chaser)

MISC: Valedictorian and championship chess captain at Copperdale. Actually wants to catch lightning in a bottle someday.

(This is a mischief interaction. She's not evil - just a disaster.)

By day she’s a straight A student, freelance programmer and budding Plopsy empire builder - and a shoe-in for valedictorian to the point where most would happily bet their own mother’s mortgage on it (yeah, please don’t actually do that).

By night, however? A cheater cheater pumpkin eater! Well, not quite (the pumpkin eating allegations however are indeed true).

Her secret? She’s a spellcaster. Her other secret? Plentiful needs potions - and lots of ‘em.

Yes, you too could manage the highest GPA in the school plus every extracurricular that didn't throw you out on your rear end (she and that dungeon master still aren’t on speaking terms), tutoring, plus a fulltime job and another part-time job, had you the equivalent of 24 usable hours in every day.

Obviously this isn’t illegal, as the greater pixel world doesn’t know about spellcasters (see: my legacy heir who still freaks out over her spellcaster husband, brother and her three children). And there’s nothing stopping anyone from washing down caffeine pills with red bull that doesn’t actually give you wings (though Berenice could attempt a potion for that). Aaaand it could be argued that werewolves who can recharge extremely quickly with a wolf nap and vampires who don’t need to sleep at all should not occult their way through Foxbury's hallowed halls. 

But there’s a difference between being thought of as just that amazing, and being thought of as significantly less amazing, because any fool believes that they can achieve what Berenice does with all that extra time she has.

Why is she entering this competition? A very good question. Well, it may be called ‘Dating Deanna,’ but this dumb smart girl has a completely different York in mind. Namely Deanna’s brother Joey, who she’s had a massive crush on ever since she met him one summer holiday in Tartosa.

"I've got this!" "I don't got this..."

She therefore signed up on a whim, and while hindsight is currently coming down on her like a tonne of bricks, she’s too obstinate to pull out now. Bernie Smalls, quit a thing? Never!

PERMISSIONS

All in - feel free to message me!

In terms of romance with other contestants, as she's a 'troll' concept have at it. Maybe not woohoo though since she's still trying to determine her sexuality.

She would be very open to flirting - and well, anything else with Joey. Will she get the opportunity? I highly doubt it but this experience can be a moment of growth for her 😆

(iou a sfs zip after dinner and other adulting!)

@changingplumbob's dating deanna bachelorette challenge (i am so sorry deanna)

[notjustjavierpena]

Ring

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is written for an anon who wanted to see Chucho passing on Javier’s mother’s engagement ring to his son. It just happened. It’s not very long, but it’s certainly made me feel so many things.

Summary: You meet Chucho Peña for the first time.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: brief mention of Javi’s deceased mother, tooth-rotting fluff, absolute delulu-land writer me, Chucho is a great father

Word count: 1.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50101930

Ring

Javier looks at you as you lean back into the cheap garden chair on his father’s back porch, resting the tip of your beer bottle against your lips whilst finishing your sentence. Beside him, he can hear Chucho talking about the upcoming apple season and the need for a helping hand to make apple juice to sell at the stall by the road during September. You sound genuinely interested in a way that Javier never was himself.

He continues looking at you. There are flowers in your hair; three small, braided daisies resting behind your ear because you think it is cute. They are the result of getting here early. You had bent down to pluck them from the side of the road and said something about making an extra effort now that you are meeting his Pop for the first time, something about honoring the remains of Spring too. He had held back an embarrassing and vulnerable line about reliving Spring at its peak every time he spends time with you.

There are bows on your dress straps too, just like the day that he met you. They’re white to match the flowers, resting so prettily on top of your shoulders that he wants to kiss until you sigh softly with your lips resting in his hair.

“I’m your girl,” you say and the words snap Javier out of his trance, disappointing him when he realizes that they aren’t directed at him. You look around to prove your point, “This place is idyllic.”

“You’re certainly more enthusiastic than my son,” Chucho says with a glint in his eye, “Yet he never seemed to complain when his mother fattened him up with apple pies.”

Javier can feel his cheeks heat up in a mix of shyness and anxiety to hear his mother brought up, making him shift a little in his seat. He mumbles something snarky under his breath, but the visible embarrassment on his face earns him the privilege of you leaning in over his armrest to melt into him.

His father gives him a soft and knowing smile.

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Mr. Peña,” you give your condolences even if you know that it’s been decades.

“Thank you, mija,” Chucho replies.

“I do make a mean apple pie though, so maybe traditions won’t die out completely,” you add with a grin, and Javier’s arm comes around your shoulder. He holds you so tightly.

“You can use the kitchen someday,” he suggests, looking at his father who still sports that knowing look. They have a conversation without saying anything to each other, simply sharing a look of understanding.

“It would be my pleasure,” Chucho tells you.

*

When the night comes to an end, you excuse yourself to the bathroom before your drive home. You blame it on the beer, chuckling softly as you say something about alcohol making you piss four times in an hour, red in the face as you feel like you are verging on embarrassing yourself. Javier loves how simple everything is with you. No games, no facades, so yourselves around each other that it’s nauseating.

“She’s nice,” Chucho says when it’s finally only him and his son in the kitchen.

“Just nice?” Javier looks down at his feet. The two of them stand against the kitchen table, and Javier swears that he can feel the presence of his mother’s warm touch, hear her soft voice, and see her smile in the kitchen atmosphere. Nothing feels uncomfortable about the silence that stretches for what feels like a minute but is probably no more than ten seconds.

“Excuse me for not knowing what to say,” his father continues with kind teasing, “Lorraine was the last girl you brought over, and that went south quickly.”

“Pops.”

Chucho holds up his hands in surrender.

“I think this is it,” Javier then tells him with his stomach doing an unbelievable amount of somersaults, “I mean it this time. I can fe—“

“I know, mijo.”

“You know?” Javier finally looks up at his father.

“I see the way that you’re lookin’ at her,” Chucho elaborates and the teasing ceases, kindness only remaining, “I only had those kinda eyes for your mamá. She would have liked her too.”

Javier looks away. He clears his throat, “Yeah. I think you’re right. Even if she was picky.”

“She knew what was best for you, Jav, it’s a parents’ job,” Chucho starts to move. He takes off his hat to place it on the countertop, moving to the kitchen cabinet furthest to the right, “Which is why I’ve got something for you before you leave.”

He stretches a little to reach behind the stacks of plates, fumbling for a moment when he isn’t tall enough to see what he is doing. Javier watches curiously as his father retrieves a box of matches, pulling it open to reveal that it doesn’t contain any.

Instead, a golden band with a simple diamond resides in the box. Javier recognizes it immediately as his mother’s engagement ring and his eyes widen whilst his breath catches, heart hammering in his chest, “Dad, I—“

“Take it,” Chucho pushes.

Javier holds out his hand. The golden band feels heavy in his palm as it is placed there, weighing down due to the responsibility that follows with it. However, with every passing second, the weight becomes lighter as he feels at ease with the idea of making you his forever.

Colombia teaches one to see through all the bullshit. He briefly thinks back to his meeting with Lorraine at the wedding reception, and he knows now that what he felt back then was longing. What he feels with you is needing. He needs you.

“Are you sure?” He still asks.

“She’s perfect, son,” his father reassures, even throws the matchbox out to stress his point, “And I want some grandchildren soon.”

“Whoa,” Javier laughs and scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. He pockets the ring carefully, “One thing at a time.”

“I’m gettin’ old, want to watch them play in the apple orchard once,” he shrugs, “What’s your excuse?”

“I want to do it the right way, make mamá happy,” he replies. He hears the bathroom door unlocking.

“Who would’ve thought? There’s finally something keeping the Hero of Laredo here,” Chucho smirks and pats his son’s back, “Perhaps she may even make an honest man out of you.”

Javier doesn’t get to say something snarky back since you enter the kitchen. You look tired but you look so comfortable, cute, and happy.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

“We don’t need to help with anything?” You gesture to the kitchen. Javier cannot believe that you don’t know that he has an engagement ring in his pocket.

“Not at all,” Chucho reassures, “Cleaning up after a dinner party winds me down, readies me for bed. I promise.”

“Well, it was so nice to meet you,” you go to hug him.

“A pleasure,” Chucho corrects you when he hugs you back.

In the car, a slow song plays on the radio as Javier drives you home to his apartment. He didn’t dare tell his father that he is already looking at house prices and adverts, building a life with you in his mind every time he looks at you without you noticing.

“Think he liked me?” You ask whilst half-asleep.

“Not at all, definitely thought you were awful,” Javier jokes and it earns him a slap to his arm. He grins at you boyishly.

“Shut up, I mean it,” you sit up straighter, “I was shitting my pants, Peña.”

“I don’t think you have to worry,” he eventually says.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[chlorinecake]

PART 1: GHOST FACE YANDERE imagine

Ｂｌｏｏｄ Ｏｎ Ｉｃｅ | 얼음에 피 - a park sunghoon ff

⚡︎ cw: mentions of suicide, violence, bullying, character deaths, swearing, underage drinking, unprotected sex, bad ending lol, ft. ive’s WONYOUNG and le sserafim’s KAZUHA

⚡︎ summary: sunghoon seeks revenge against the girls that bullied his little sister in high school, leading up to her tragic suicide

⚡︎ wc: 8.3k ~ read part 2 here!!

three years ago

For Sunghoon Park, death was hardly a foreign concept. He committed his first murder around the age of eighteen, the victim being a fellow athlete from his ice skating team, Cha Jun-Hwan. The dynamic pair maintained a solid friendship since the day they met, up until Sunghoon’s sixteen-year-old half-sister, Wonyoung, blossomed into a beautiful young lady. She stopped wearing glasses and got her braces removed, but most importantly, she was confident in her own skin. “You’re more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen, Wonyo. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” Sunghoon would encourage her every day in front of her vanity mirror. “Thank you, Sunghoon-ah! You always know how to cheer me up” she’d smile, patting his head as she left for school.

Eventually, Wonyoung started dating Jun-Hwan behind Sunghoon’s back. Their secret relationship went on for about 3 months before Sunghoon caught them during a half-naked-make-out session in Wonyoung’s bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed as if frozen, wearing black gym shorts and a pink bralette. Jun-Hwan was topless as well, with Wonyoung’s love bites decorating his bare chest. A mix of rage and disgust burned being Sunghoon's eyes. Grabbing a large pillow to cover her exposed figure, Jun-Hwan rambled on, “Sunghoon, I can explain! We meant to tell you sooner, but-“

“Get the fuck out of my house before I kill you,” Sunghoon threatened sharply, before an embarrassed Jun-Hwan ran out the door, leaving the Park siblings to figure things out.

Some time passed, and rumors about Wonyoung ran rampant throughout her high school, most of which being initiated by Jun-Hwan himself. An immeasurable pity birthed within Sunghoon whenever he’d hear the muffled sobs coming from his sister’s bedroom at night as she struggled to get any sleep. He wanted Jun-Hwan to pay for the pain he’d brought upon her.

The plan was simple, really.

Sunghoon made it look like a camping trip gone wrong, killing off four of his teammates including Jun-Hwan in the woods. He made it look like a vicious bear attack, which surprisingly fooled the police, leaving him scot-free.

Sunghoon went on to quit his dreams of becoming an Olympic champion, pursuing the academic route instead.

Though, Wonyoung’s torment was far from over.

A group of mean girls called her names like “piranha pussy” and “semen demon” after Jun-Hwan’s death, claiming that she supernaturally killed him during intimacy. Suffering from constant scrutiny at school and grieving the loss of her first boyfriend, despite all that he'd said about her, Wonyoung was driven to commit the unspeakable, and took her own life. Her body was buried soon after, with posts like “Gone too soon” and “fly high, princess 🕊️🎀” pinned on everyone’s socials, including the mean girls.

After his sister's death, Sunghoon was never the same. His innate will to kill only grew stronger as the years went by. He made a promise to Wonyoung on her funeral, saying that he would someday avenge her no matter how long it'd take him.

➠ three years later, wednesday

“Sunghoon is hosting a party at his place this Friday night. Wanna come?” Your friend Kazuha asked you from her end of the phone. She developed a habit of face timing you whenever she was in the mood for a movie. You were busy scrolling through Netflix catalogs from the comfort of your couch, searching for a descent film.

“Sunghoon Park?” You inquired at the familiar name.

“The sad rich kid whose sister committed suicide after her boyfriend died? Yes, that guy,” she said, struggling to open a jar of pickles.

“Ugh, I could totally use your feminine power muscles right now," she cried, her face contorting as she fought with all her might to release the tight lid.

“That sounds kinda gay, Kaz.”

“Only for you, ____,” she winked playfully before searching her kitchen drawers for a butter knife.

“I mean, are you sure he’s okay with us coming considering how we treated his little sister?” You stopped your scrolling, putting the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“It’s not our fault she couldn’t handle a few jokes.” Kazuha retrieved the lost butter knife from the dishwasher, walking back to the counter,

“Doesn't it make you feel guilty sometimes?”

“C’mon, ____, that was ages ago! And besides, we were kids, we didn't know any better,” she lied, neglecting the fact that you were both well informed of the life-threatening dangers that came with bullying. Kazuha was just having a hard time admitting it.

You were quiet for a moment. How could she be so insensitive?

“Whatever," you mumbled, reaching for the remote again, swiping through the horror movie section. "What’s the hype around this party for, anyways?”

“It’s a costume party, silly!”

Although you were on movie-hunting duty, this conversation was starting to make you sleepy.

“Girl? Are you yawning?”

“Give me a break, Kaz! It's past my bedtime, now pay attention to your pickles,” you joked, rubbing the urge to sleep from your eyes with your free hand.

“It’s the last week of summer break. Don’t let productivity get in the way of your fun before school starts again,” Kazuha protested in both her defense and your favor.

You meditated on her words for a moment before answering.

“Ugh, fine! Only if you promise to join me at the mall for some early morning costume shopping,” you negotiated, pointing a finger at her through your phone.

“Yay!” She cheered, bouncing around her kitchen in a fit of joy, accidentally knocking the glass jar of pickles unto the floor.

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath, running out of frame to likely grab a mop or broom.

Ring. Ring.

You glanced from the tv, taking a quick peek at your phone: Unknown Caller ID.

Hanging up, you proceeded to scroll through Netflix.

Ring. Ring.

The same number was calling you again.

Kazuha was now back in frame, both her broom and mop keeping her hands occupied.

“You can call me back after you check that, if you want.”

“No worries, it’s just some random unknown number that can’t find a hobby.”

“Oooo, spooky,” she said in a teasing voice.

You hung up the incoming call, only for it to call you back once again. Now you were curious.

“Uhm, I’m gonna call you back, Kaz,” you said before hanging up.

“Kk!”

You answered the unknown caller, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked.

“I’ve been dying for you to answer.”

“Yeah? And how’re you feeling now?”

“Honestly, I’ve been better. What’re you up to?”

“Looking for a good movie to fall asleep to.”

“Really? What genre?”

“Dunno. Probably something scary.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

Yikes. These prank callers really needed to step up their scare game. You decided to play along.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” It took everything in you not to cackle at how ridiculous you sounded. This mystery man was truly a recycled character.

“Hmm, you never told me your name, by the way.”

“Hmm, and I don’t think I will.”

“Oh, it’s because you have a boyfriend, isn’t it?”

“Nooo. Now tell me, why do you want to know my name? Huh?”

“So I can know who I’m looking at.”

You rolled your eyes at his cliche script.

“Right, so anyways, I’m gonna hang up now and you can just…uh, I don’t know, touch yourself til you’re content again.”

“Don’t hang up on m-“

What a loser, you thought to yourself, calling Kazuha back.

“Hi! What did they want?”

“It was just some nerd trying to prank call me.”

“No way. Did he sound hot?”

“Kaz, do you wanna watch this stupid movie or not?”

“Fine, fine, I’ve got my pickles and everything. Now press play!”

➠ thursday

Another easy day spent between you and Kazuha went by. After raiding the strip mall’s clothing shops (and food courts) in search of the sexiest party costumes available, you two agreed on an “Angel x Devil” duo theme. Kazuha chose the devil costume, handing you the sparkly white halo from the angel set. “It’s giving Victoria’s Secret,” Kazuha said, checking herself out in the changing room mirror before striking an awkward pose. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn't get over how uncomfortable the revealing outfit made you feel. You and Kaz used to slut shame girls who dressed like this, only to turn around and do the same thing yourself. This whole experience felt hypocritical. “I look like an attention-whore,” you said to the mirror, a pitiful expression waving over your features. Kazuha walked over to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cheer up, ____. You’re more beautiful than any attention-whore I’ve ever seen, and don't you ever let someone tell you otherwise,” she smiled, kissing you on the head.

“Yay, how flattering.”

“No, I’m serious. We’re gonna be sophomores next semester. How long is it gonna take before we explore our scandalous side? Unless you plan on dying a virgin.”

Oh, the horror.

You considered her words for a moment, giving yourself one more look in the mirror.

“I guess this corset makes my boobs look pretty nice…”

“That’s the spirit! Now c’mon my child. Follow sugar mommy Zuha to the register,” she cheered in a high pitched voice, collecting the clothing tags and paying for your costumes.

➠ friday

12:23pm

You walked into the craft store and were greeted by the smell of sawdust and lumber. Grabbing a hand basket, you strolled around the aisles in search for a few repair materials. Last week, Kazuha accidentally broke the shelf you had installed in your wall with her heavy stretching equipment. Needless to say, you were left to pick up the pieces. To your misfortune, the wood glue was placed on an abnormally high rack. Raising up on tippy toes, you extended your arm, barely grazing the item with your fingertips. That’s when a tall figure reached over your frame, obtaining the wood glue with ease. “Thought you might want a little help with that,” the deep voice chimed, placing the wood glue in your basket.

You looked up to meet his face, jolting as if you’d seen a ghost. The helpful stranger proved to be none other than Sunghoon Park, the older brother of the girl you bullied to suicide back in high school. The last time you saw Sunghoon was at his sister’s funeral, which was almost three years ago. “Are you okay,” he asked, noticing the way your features fell at the sight of him. You tried to recollect your thoughts, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Y- yeah, I’m okay. Thanks,” you said nodding, trying to reassure the both of you.

He eyed you curiously, finding your bashfulness to be rather endearing.

“Do I,” he began, pointing at himself and back to you, “-have we met before?”

“No, I uh- Well, kind of. I- I knew your sister,” you admitted, trying to ignore your own stuttering.

“Oh, I remember. You’re ____, right? Yeah. Wonyo told me all about you and your friends. Who were they again?”

“Kazuha and Maddison.”

“Hmm, and where are they now,” he asked, following along as you subconsciously picked up a pack of brad nails.

“Well, Kaz is actually coming to your party tonight. Maddie moved away a while ago after her brother passed in the camping accident.”

All he did was smile in response. You found that odd, but didn’t give it much thought as he kept talking.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about those years recently.”

You nodded, hoping he would continue.

“I tried telling her to ignore the rumors. To keep smiling and focusing on things that made her happy. I guess it just came to a point where she couldn’t pretend anymore.”

Something in you wanted to say sorry, but you came to realize a long time ago that apologies lacked much worth anyway, benefiting the offender more than the offended. You wondered if he even knew how you used to treat her.

You made your way to the check out line, placing your basket on the conveyor belt. The cashier scanned your items, and you handed her your debit card.

“I’ve been thinking about her, too. Wonyoung was such a bright soul, and put her all in everything she did. She used to talk about you all the time, sharing stories of how amazing you were on the ice. She was so proud of you.”

“Yeah,” his voice cracked.

“Would you like your receipt,” the employee asked cheerfully.

“No, that’s okay. Have a good day,” you wished, taking your shopping bag in one hand and Sunghoon’s wrist in the other.

He was docile as you guided him outside of the craft store, pulling him to face you. Breaking the tension, you gave him a hug, leaning into his chest.

He restrained his sniffles rather well before pulling away as if he wasn’t just on the verge of crying.

“So, are you in school,” he asked, started up a new conversation.

“Yeah, I’m a sophomore. We actually go to the same university.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you around before. I’m a junior. What’s your major?”

“English.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. I’m majoring in Psychology, so we won’t have many classes together.”

You couldn’t believe that he was actually this comfortable talking with you. It was a relief knowing that he didn’t hold his sister’s passing against you.

“Well, enough with the sad stuff, I’ve got some last minute errands to run for the party, so I’ll see you tonight, alright? Do you need a ride?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks for offering.”

Why was he being so nice?

“Yeah, no problem! I’ll pick u up around 8, okay? It was nice meeeting you again!”

“Yeah, you too!”

2:41pm

9:03pm

It was a Friday night and the mood was right, as some would say. You and Kazuha were dressed to impress in your flirty costumes, earning yourself glares from every corner of the room. You arrived a little later then anticipated, but were still thankful for Sunghoon’s kind gesture of driving you two all the way here. However, he’d been missing in action for the past hour, and you were really hoping that you would have the chance to talk with him again. In the meantime, you sat on one of his fancy couches, enjoying the lively rhythms of the music. Colorful flashing lights kissed the tall ceiling, with an array of drinks and snacks displayed at a bar. You knew Sunghoon was rich, but he had really outdone himself.

Walking over to the bar, you grabbed one of the plastic red cups and filled it with whatever flavored liquid enticed you from the large punch bowl, having a seat at one of the metal bar stools. You gave the drink a whiff before taking a sip.

Someone had definitely spiked the juice.

Although you currently had no one around to chat with, you tried to find some enjoyment in the crowded solitude, watching fellow party goers dance their hearts out before joining them yourself.

9:13pm

Kazuha invited herself to take a tour around Sunghoon’s fancy abode, that honestly felt more like a mansion than a home. She wasn’t sure if it was the faint traces of alcohol in her system, but she was certainly in the mood for a good time. Walking through his home’s back door, she spotted him sitting near his pool, staring at the wind-produced waves. She walked towards him, sitting in the idle seat beside him.

“Hi,” he started, barely glancing at her before looking back at the water, reflecting the moon’s beautiful glow.

“Hi. You didn’t dress up for your own party,” she chuckled, swirling the red liquid in her cup.

“I am dressed up. As myself, of course.”

“So, ‘Sunghoon Park’ is a part of your costume then, yeah?”

“Maybe. Would you like to get to know the real me?”

“Maybe,” she said in between a long sip of the fruity drink she held in her hand.

“If you could be anything at all, what would you be?”

Sunghoon rested his elbows on his thighs in a thinking position.

“A ghost.”

“You’d make one goon of a ghost,” she humored herself until she noticed that he wasn’t amused by her antics.

“Ghosts are liberal beings, free from the taxing cares of this blood and bone world.”

‘Who wouldn’t want that,’ Sunghoon thought to himself.

“Uhuh. So, how do you think your dead little sister is enjoying her boring life as a graveyard ghoul?” He froze at her question, gripping his fists around nothing, trying to get a hold of his emotions.

Kazuha was being a bitch on purpose. It was an innate attitude of hers that she had yet to break. Still and all, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wonyoung would be like if she was still here.

‘If they’re better than me, they’re better gone,’ Kazuha often reminded herself, more so as an affirmation, rather than out of belief.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sunghoon retorted, searching his blazer pocket for his silver flask, taking a thick gulp from its spout. Kazuha watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, marveling at the shadow of facial hair growing on his chin.

Cute.

His jaw clenched at the strong drink, the condensation from the silver canister leaving a print from his warm fingertips.

“Want some,” he asked, giving her a nonchalant look.

“Sure,” she said, opening her mouth for him to pour a stream of the amber liquid down her throat.

“You have a pretty tongue,” he said, using a thumb to toy with her lower lip.

Kazuha felt dizzy under Sunghoon’s dark gaze, his piercing eyes telling of all the bad things he planned to do to her.

He laid a hand on her exposed thigh, gripping at the plush skin. “Look at you, squirming in your seat for me and I’ve barely even touched you,” he whispered against her lips, tasting the rum that flavored her mouth with a kitten lick. Her eyes fluttered at the action. How was he so comfortable doing this in front of all these people?

“Is this why you hated Wonyo for so long? Because she could pull hot guys like me effortlessly? I never understood why it was so hard for you, anyway, considering that you go both ways,” he slithered.

She grabbed his wrist, snatching his grasp from her face.

“What? I thought we were having a little fun,” he grinned like a sly fox, displaying his pearly fangs.

“No, Goon! You were having fun!” She got up from the poolside, adjusting her clothes and wiping her mouth. “I don’t wanna be here anymore, tell ____ I’ll see her tomorrow.”

He set his eyes back on the water, taking another sip from the flask.

She waved her arms above her head frantically, trying to get his attention again. “Aren’t you gonna take me home?”

“Forget it, Kaz. You can walk home for all I care.”

She scoffed to herself. “You’re joking.”

“And you’re a classless bitch who bullies girls who’re better than you,” he spat, tucking his flask away in his jacket pocket before getting up to walk in the opposite direction of her.

“Sunghoon! I can’t walk home by myself in the middle of the night! I’ll get chopped up by some weirdo or something!”

“I’m afraid that’s not my problem,” he said, not turning meeting her face. “And by the way, I want you outta here in the next two minutes or else I’m calling the police!”

Kazuha gave Sunghoon the bird, walking the walk of shame as she left his party alone, dressed as the slutty devil he had made her feel like.

9:40pm

Kazuha took short strides as she walked along the concrete sidewalk, trying to get back home before her legs gave out. On the way, she found a random stick lying on a neighborhood lawn. She decided to keep it with her as a weapon, just in case she needed to defend herself.

Ring. Ring.

She answered her phone without looking.

“Kazzieeee.”

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Oh, we know each other very well.”

A lightbulb went off in Kazuha’s head.

“You’re the perv that prank called my friend a few nights ago, right?” She said, subconsciously walking faster, feeling paranoid for some reason, though, she tried to mask it with humor.

“Where are you going?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Home,” she answered for reasons she didn’t understand.

“I can wait for you at the door if you like.”

“I think I’d like it a little bit more if you found some friends instead.”

“Then why are you walking away from me, you rude devil?”

She turned around to check her surroundings, waving the stick weapon at the sight of a stop sign, dim street lights, and suburban houses. She cackled at herself.

“Oh man, you really had me there for a second,” she sighed, turning back around.

“So, are you gonna invite me in or do I have to force my way?”

“Ugh, what’re you talking about now?”

“I'm talking about how much fun it’s gonna be to rip your insides out!"

Kazuha’s eyes bucked in fear. She never expected the caller to threaten her.

“C- call me again, a- and I’ll call the police,” Kazuha warned in a trembling voice.

It’s hard to sound brave when you’re scared for your life.

The unknown caller let out a mocking chuckle, thoroughly amused by her responses.

She lifted the phone to her face.

“HANG UP AND YOU’LL DIE-“

The dial tone filled the stale night air.

Kazuha fished through her mini bag, looking for her AirPod case. She opened the Spotify app on her phone, clicking on her “Chyll Vybe” playlist. Swallowing her anxiety, she hoped that some upbeat music would take her mind off her fear. Something in her told her to warn you about Sunghoon, and she listened, sending you a quick text before power walking down the side walk. She lip-synced to the melody, trying to lift her spirits.

9:49pm

iMessage from ”Kazzie 🦢🩰” — I still don’t trust Sun-Goon. Pls don’t go anywhere near/with him 🙏

Reply: Where r u?

read

9:50pm

Kazuha felt like someone was watching her. That’s when she looked to her side and saw a tall clothed figure with a scanty white mask walking beside her. She flinched, “Oh my God, you scared the hell out of me!”

The person stayed silent.

“I don’t remember seeing you at Sunghoon’s costume part-“ Kazuha lurched forward over nothing, the clothed figure tearing through her flesh with a sharp blade, scraping the bone beneath.

Kazuha groaned at the feeling, gripping the offender’s arm at the profound pain.

The figure pushed her wounded body on the ground, taking the knife out of her abdomen before stabbing her again and again, until her ragged breaths couldn’t keep up with the continuous blood flow. Kazuha whimpered and winced, even after the stabbing had stopped, her abused innards glistening under the soft moonlight. She watched as the psychopath removed her AirPods from her ears before walking away, leaving her dying body on the pavement.

He put her headphones in his own ears before comically mimicking the way Kazuha was ‘power-walking’ earlier. Rihanna’s cover of Same Ol’ Mistakes blared from the white pods, chanting the lyric:

“But you've got your demons and she's got her regrets.”

“What a lovely song to die to,” the killer chimed, skipping off into the distance.

10:11pm

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated in your white hand purse. Pulling out your phone, the bright screen revealed a text from an unknown number.

What a wonderful surprise.

You jotted in your password before finally checking the message.

You spun in your seat, searching the crowd behind you. The dancing party lights hindered your vision. You got up from your seat, stepping closer to get a better look. Goosebumps dawned on the surface of your skin at the sight of the hooded figure in a distorted caricature mask, gripping a knife in their right hand. It was a horrific look to say the least.

“Screw you.” You typed angrily on your phone to the unknown number, blocking the contact and putting your phone back away. You just realized how long it’s been since you saw Kaz, so you went out to go and find her.

“You shouldn’t have done that, ____,” you heard a dark voice say from behind you. You ignored it, thinking it was just your paranoia playing tricks on you.

10:16pm

“Why did you leave my side, Kaz? Kazuha?!” You called out in search for your friend. You didn’t entirely believe what the unknown caller said, but you still wanted to make sure she was okay. You made your way upstairs, opening door after door to no avail. Your friend was no where to be found. “Kazuha?! Seriously, if you don’t come out right now, I’m eating the rest of your dried mangoes-”

Crash.

You bumped into a formally dressed party goer, only to realize that it was Sunghoon.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay,” you worried, fixing the damp hairs that framed his pretty face.

“Oh- your hairs wet.”

“Yeah, I was just at the pool.”

“Must’ve been near the hot tub, you look flushed.”

He offered his hand to lift you up.

“Sorry, but have you seen Kazuha anywhere? She texted me something, and now I can’t find her.”

“Oh, she actually left about half an hour ago,” he admitted, still fixing his clothes from the fall.

“Why? Was she okay?”

“Yes, ____, she was perfectly fine. She probably just felt a little awkward and decided to go home.”

You hummed in response. Unlike Kazuha, you trusted Sunghoon for whatever that reason was, so you didn’t spend anymore time talking about your MIA bestie.

“What’re you doing?”

“Texting her good night. Even though she probably won’t see it til the morning,” you chuckle to yourself, eliciting a smile from Sunghoon himself. You have yet to learn his reasons for smiling at some of the things you say, but you had a feeling there was nothing to worry about.

“Who’s that,” he asked pointing to your conversation with the unknown number.

“Just some rando trying to scare me,” you replied, deleting the conversation before putting your phone back in your purse.

“Hmm, I thought you liked scary,” he replied.

You and Sunghoon started to trail back downstairs, ignoring the way his knuckles occasionally brushed against the back of your hand.

“Hey, uh, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I was hoping we could go somewhere a little more private?”

You considered his offer, thinking about how Kazuha abandoned ship when she was the one who hauled you to this silly party to begin with. The night was still young, and you trusted Sunghoon. You wanted to leave with him.

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna hit up the ladies room first though, and I’ll meet you out front.”

“Wait, Sunghoon,” you called out. “You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, right?”

“Have you?,” was all he asked before flashing a cheeky smirk, displaying his dimples.

“I’ll be waiting for you in my car, alright” he said, giving you a brief hug before heading to the door.

11:24pm

You weren’t entirely sure where Sunghoon was taking you, but you didn’t really care either.

You were too lost in the way he maneuvered the steering wheel with one hand, captivated by the prominent veins that traced his delicately long fingers.

After some time, Sunghoon pulled the shiny black vehicle into the driveway of a log cabin, hidden within the depths of the forest. The bright car headlights glazed the surface of a rectangular sign hanging above the front door, revealing the words "Park Lodge" carved into the wooden slab.

Sunghoon put the car in park, ceasing the calming sound of the air conditioner. His eyes were still trained on the view behind the windshield.

“So," you began, breaking the silence. "How many girls have you taken here before,” you teased, giving him a curious look.

“None, actually, other than my little sister.”

Peering out the car window, you took in all the trees and wildlife that made up your surroundings. It finally hit you that you were in the middle of nowhere with a guy you had known for less than 24 hours. Oh, if Kazuha could see you now.

“Do you own this place?”

“Yup. My grandfather had it built from the ground up when he was around my age. Now, it belongs to me,” he smiled, trying to mask his pride.

You both exited the vehicle, Sunghoon locking the doors behind you. The sounds of crickets and restless owls greeted your ears. He had shared so much of his belongings with you so far that it almost made you feel guilty.

“I hope I’m not giving off the impression that I’m using you,” you mumbled shyly under your breath, walking closely beside him.

“____, you’re exactly what I need in my life right now. If anything, I’m the one using you.”

Something about his comment made you feel uneasy, but you tried to brush it off. He unlocked the front door, letting you step in before him. Upon entering, the space was dimly lit, with wooden accents trimming each corner. An antique chandelier was the source of the faint light, drawing your attention to the artistic etchings that covered the ceiling. This place was truly a gem.

“You looked really beautiful tonight, by the way,” Sunghoon admitted, interrupting your gawking.

“Shut up,” you bashfully rejected his compliment, feeling a sudden heat rush to your face.

“What? I’m serious.”

“And I’m way too tipsy to think rationally right now.”

“Yeah? And what is it that you’re thinking, then? Honestly?”

You waited before answering him.

“That if you knew just half of what I’ve done in the past, you probably wouldn’t even be talking to me right now.”

He took your hand in his, turning you to face him.

“So stop talking.”

“What?”

“Follow me,” he said, beelining you to another room.

A bedroom.

He flicked one of the light switches before sitting you beside him on the bed. He held intense eye contact with you before speaking.

“I’m not oblivious, ____. You may be a nice girl, but I can tell you have a naughty side, too.”

The thought of you and Kazuha’s shopping adventure reminisced in the back of your mind. Promiscuity came so naturally for her, but for you, it wasn't as easy.

“Trust me, there isn’t a naughty nerve in my body.”

“Not yet, maybe. It just needs to be stimulated, first.”

The word ‘stimulated’ hung in the air for a moment.

“Sunghoon, what are you getting at here-“

You gasped as he stopped you mid sentence, caging you beneath his large frame on the bed.

“Maybe we could start with some on top of the clothes stuff, yeah?”

“Sunghoon, this is a little fast-“

“I really need this from you tonight, okay? Just, please. Let me explore you.”

The desperate look in his eyes softened your heart, sending a sensation of numbness through your limbs. It was hard to process that all of this was actually happening right now. A little voice in your head urged you to let go of the nerves and simply let him. As lust and desire intoxicated your senses, you accepted the fact that you were more than fine with this. More than ready for wherever this night with Sunghoon would take you.

“Okay,” you answered.

“Yeah," he asked in excited disbelief.

“Yes,” you reassured him, nodding.

“Explore me.”

That was the green light Sunghoon had been waiting for, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that quickly escalated into a heated tongue fight. He gently grazed his teeth against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. He snaked a hand between your legs, only for his touch to be hindered by the corseted bodysuit of your angel costume. “May I,” he whispered against your skin, sending a shiver down you spine as his fingers drew circles atop the fabric. You could only nod in response, too pleasure drunk to come up with any words. Tossing the outfit across the room, Sunghoon dipped his fingers into the growing wetness at your core.

“Much better,” he grinned, sliding his fingers up and down past your folds. You reached out to tug at his button up shirt, aching to feel his bare skin against yours. He caught on to your desires pretty quickly, stripping himself before you. You stared in awe at his toned body, sinful thoughts of him flooding your brain. He looked down at your vulnerable figure, smirking to himself.

“Both our clothes are off. You can stop teasing me now,” you said, causing him to chuckle.

“What’re you suggesting I do to you, then,” he questioned, inching closer before meeting you on the bed again.

You felt yourself squeeze around nothing.

“I want you. All of you.”

That’s all it took and Sunghoon was already diving back into your lips, lewd sounds bouncing off the bedroom’s walls. You busied yourself with unzipping his pants, palming the bulge that hid behind his boxers.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way, granting you access to stroke his shaft a few times before aligning his tip with your entrance. He pushed himself past your tightness, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before rutting his hips against you, groaning at the intense pleasure you gave him.

➠ saturday

5:04am

Last nights sleep was still fresh on your face, adding a weight to your eyelids that you didn’t care to fight just yet. You were laying flat on your back once you felt a different weight sit atop your hips in a still straddle. Eyes still closed, you knew the pressure came from Sunghoon once the scent of his rosy cologne hit your nostrils. You shut your sleepy eyes tighter as he grazed something sharp across the length of your neck before leaning down to kiss the spot softly, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He traced the sharp object across the stature of your collarbone and the valley between your chest, tracing another straight line down your stomach to your navel.

Poke.

The sharpness barely pierced you before your eyes shot open at the sting. A shirtless Sunghoon sat on your lap with a large knife in his right hand, the fresh blood from your stomach coating it’s tip. You weren’t naked, but you were only wearing his oversized white poplin shirt from the night before, now stained with a few drops of ruby red. Looking around, you noticed countless stab impressions on the mattress.

Sunghoon must’ve violently stabbed a circle around your head while you slept, loose cotton and feathers covering the messy bedspread.

He looked up from his ministrations and saw that you were awake. You wanted to scream for your life, even though you knew no one would hear you.

“SUNGHOON-,” you tried, but he covered your mouth with his free hand, a sent of iron lingering in your nose.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be screaming? The trees might think I’m abusing you in here!”

You rustled under his palm before biting his hand, eliciting a groan from his throat.

“What the fuck is this, huh,” you asked, trying to get up from under him. He wrestled with your arms, pining your wrists to the bed.

“I commend your bravery, but try some shit like that again and I’ll finish cutting you open.”

His eyes were dark, void of any moral conscience. He brought the knife up to your neck, toying with the ripples that made up your anxious throat. “You deserve this for what you did to her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you first.” He smirked at whatever perverse thoughts ran through his mind. Your breathing became ragged, as the urge to cry grew in your chest.

“Aww, we’ve got a crier,” Sunghoon teased, pouting back at you.

“K-Kaz, sh-she, she tried to warn me.”

“A- an- and you probably sh- should’ve listened,” he replied, mocking the way you stuttered. “I still would’ve caught your ass later, anyways.”

“You fucking killed her!”

“Oh, please. That bitch had the mouth of a viper, someone was gonna put her in her place eventually.”

“You’re insane!”

“I’m also self aware.”

The tears were becoming too much for your eyes to hold back, as thick streams poured from your eyelids, dampening your supple cheeks.

“You took my virginity because of your dead sister?” You yelled again in utter disgust.

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t fucking enjoy it.”

You spat in his eye.

“You missed my mouth, princess,” he said in a low voice before wiping the spit off of his face, smearing it against your chest.

“You’re into this, huh? Look how hard your nipples have gotten.”

He put his sweaty forehead against yours, planting a tender kiss to your lips that for some reason, you didn’t reject.

“You know, I did enjoy exploring you last night.”

He kissed you again, pushing his hot tongue past your lips, dancing with yours.

“I enjoyed our taste”

He kissed your neck, gripping your throat until your vision went blurry.

“I enjoyed your scent.”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it like horse reins, causing a choked moan to erupt from you mouth.

“I enjoyed the pretty sounds you made for me.”

He glided his digits between your wet folds, dipping his delicate fingers into your entrance.

“Sunghoon!”

“I enjoyed the way you cried out my name as you clenched around my fingers,” he slithered seductively.

“Fuck, get off of me!”

He was in the middle of admiring your tits when he looked up to meet your rage-ridden eyes, his own face a flushed hue from the heat engulfing your sweaty bodies. He sighed in disappointment.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Ugh,” you squirmed, fighting your hardest to escape his grasp.

“How long do you think your weak little body can take my insatiable urges to torture you before it finally gives out? Huh? Making you suffer will bring all the more fulfillment to my life.”

“God, Sunghoon, I don’t care anymore! Kill me! We’ll burn in hell together, I guess!”

“Jeez, would you quit pretending like you want to die? You’re taking all the fun out of it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

The sounds of your choked sobs filled the room’s miserable air.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you sniffled beneath him.

“Here,” he offered, throwing the knife across the room, causing you to jump at nothing, “allow me to clear it up for you. When I care about someone, I don’t let anyone fucking touch them. Yet, you and your friends managed to hurt her without even doing so.”

“We didn’t know she would take it that far, Sunghoon,” you pleaded in between sobs.

“I didn’t know that my sister would be taken away from me by a bunch of mindless teenage sluts with big and dirty dick sucking mouths! Life’s unfair!”

“Fuck you,” you retorted, feeling lightheaded from all of your screaming and crying. He snickered to himself, presumably finding amusement in how pathetic you sounded. Combing his hair back with a clawed hand, he peered down, looking into your eyes.

“I’ve had just about enough of your talking, princess,” he said, reaching for a towel to shove in your mouth.

Only muffled screams filled the room from there.

He would never admit that it was his own vanity keeping you alive. He’d call it mercy, when deep down, it was his twisted craving for your touch that stopped him from going all the way during torture sessions. Your life had been reduced to its lowest, never to see the mere light of day again. He kept you in an underground basement, lined with bricks and mortar to ensure that you’d never escape his sadistic dictation. Everyday behind those walls felt like an eternity of ‘toy versus toddler tantrum’s.’ If only you knew that a simple mistake you made in high school would be the very wrecking ball to sabotage your entire life.

❅ Thank you for reading @chlorinecake ‘s “Blood On Ice.” Make sure to check out more fun reads on my enhypen bookshelf!

❅ Special thanks to @ashgonedash for requesting this creative piece and @fanficfactoryfoxxx for curing my writers block!!! 🎂

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

!¡update: BLOOD ON ICE part TWO coming SOON, introducing more direct yandere themes and plot exploration!! stay tuned 🎧

[lilithknoxville]

Needy (Johnny Knoxville x F!Reader!) 18+!

Summary: “Wait, what the fuck happened to your arms?!” You asked, your eyes widening again in surprise and horror. His hands grabbed your ankles, dragging you to the foot of your bed. Your breath left your lungs for a moment as he got in your face, his eyes needy.

“Anaconda in a ball pit. Don’t wanna talk about it. Need you.” He murmured, pressing his lips to yours within a second.

Content Warnings: Graphic Smut, 18+, Oral (Fem Receiving), Swearing, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink

Word Count: 2,176

AN: PHEWWWWWWW. i was debating between a smut or a fluff and we see what side won. i am a whore. but it’s okay bc it’s johnny LOLLLLLLL. also maybe someday i’ll know how to properly end a story. today is not that day…

please leave requests in the inbox! this one just kind of. fell out of me. also if anyone wants to be my beta reader i think id love you forever. i need a beta reader bad. OKAY ANYWAYS into the story ✨

You were sitting in Johnny’s bedroom, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, chuckling at videos here and there. It was one in the morning, and you were still wide awake. Johnny was out late, a shoot taking longer than expected. He had texted you, letting you know way beforehand that this one would be taking a while. You had sent him some videos of your rabbit vibrator in you, the videos going unanswered. You were used to it by now, the shoots took up most of his time. You had done your business, came to the thought of him three times, then put your toy away. You were getting sleepy, your eyelids getting heavy.

The sound of the front door to the apartment slamming shut made you sit up in a panic. Footsteps echoed off of the walls, and the bedroom door opened suddenly. Johnny was standing in your door frame, blood covering his forearms and soaked into his white t-shirt. His rainbow suspenders, which were also blood soaked, hung loosely around his shoulders. Your eyes widened in fear for a moment, before relaxing into a confused smile.

“Shit, babe. You scared the hell out of me.” Your hand came to your chest, but as you slowly took in the sight of his appearance, you blinked in confusion, “Wait, what the fuck happened to your arms?!” You asked, your eyes widening again in surprise and horror. His hands grabbed your ankles, dragging you to the foot of your bed. Your breath left your lungs for a moment as he got in your face, his eyes needy.

“Anaconda in a ball pit. Don’t wanna talk about it. Need you.” He murmured, pressing his lips to yours within a second. You made a noise of surprise against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. The kiss was bruising, Johnny not even giving you a moment to breathe. You broke the kiss, sucking in a quick breath.

“Whoa, slow down!” You let out a breathless laugh as Johnny’s hands were already at the waistband of your pyjama pants, pushing them down your thighs, discarding them somewhere on the floor, “Where’s the fire?” You asked in confusion, watching him kneel down at the foot of your bed. His hands shoved your thighs up towards your face, and you saw bloody handprints on your ankles. You gasped out a breath, trying to sit up. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. Your pussy was still soaked from earlier, and he moved his face closer, licking a long stripe up towards your clit. You bit your lip hard, your body writhing and your head falling back against your pillows.

“Need you. Fuckin’ opened the videos you sent me on set. Haven’t stopped thinkin’ about them.” He murmured, the southern accent causing thrill to run through your veins. His hands scrambled at the seam of your underwear, tearing them in half along the seam.

“Goddamnit, you can’t keep tearing my underwear, PJ.” You threw your head back against the mattress, a strangled moan tearing from you as he dove into your pussy, his tongue diving into your weeping slit.

“I’ll buy you more.” He growled, his hand coming up, his thumb lazily circling your clit. His tongue dove into you again, immediately finding that spot that had you seeing stars and your body writhing again. Your hands came to his hair, moans tumbling from your lips, as he devoured you like a cannibal. His mouth dipped up, his lips attaching to your clit and sucking gently. You rolled your hips, your chest rising and falling quickly. He changed his ministrations from sucking on your clit, back to his tongue diving back into your pussy.

It wasn’t long before the coil started to wind itself in your stomach, the pace of his tongue relentless. It was like he wanted to pull an orgasm out of you as fast as possible, and it was working. Between his tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit, he had that thread inside of you snapping within a moment. Your hands pulled his hair hard, your back arching off of the bed. His groan rumbled through your body, adding to the already heightened feeling racing through you. His face stayed between your legs until you whined from overstimulation. He pulled back from between your legs, his chin and lips covered in your slick. He wiped his mouth with his hand, giving you the smirk he knew drove you crazy.

“Head of the bed, now. All fours, hold onto the headboard.” His voice was gruff, and you scrambled over yourself, getting into the position he demanded of you. You faced the wall, your ass poking up into the air. You heard the sound of his belt clinking, and the soft Whoosh of his slacks hitting the floor. He came up behind you, his thick cock dragging against your weeping slit. You grit your teeth, shuddering.

He lined himself up, pushing into you with one thrust. You groaned, your knuckles going white from how hard you were gripping the headboard. He stayed in place for a minute, letting you get used to the feeling.

“Y-You’re good, honey.” You shuddered underneath his hands, which were on your hips, gripping them tightly. You heard a low chuckle from behind you, and if you thought he was relentless eating you out, his pace fucking you was even more brutal. You let out another groan, your voice cracking, as his hips slammed into your ass relentlessly. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, as you dropped your head, catching a glimpse of his cock slamming in and out of you.

“Take this fucking cock,” He growled out, his left hand coming from your hip to your neck, pulling you up to where your back was against his chest. His hand snaked around the front of your neck, his thumb and forefinger applying the right amount of pressure to the sides of your neck that made your head swim, “You fucking slut.” He snarled, and the tears pricking the corners of your eyes fell down your cheeks.

His tongue darted out, licking the tears off of your skin. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your right hand leaving the headboard and tapping his forearm frantically. The grip he had on your neck loosened, and you sucked in a breath. You heard him chuckle lowly in your ear, his hips snapping against you harder this time.

“Gonna cry over how amazing this cock feels?” He spat, his lips curled up in a vicious smile, “That’s it, you little slut, let Daddy love you the way you deserve.” His pace was relentless, almost frantic.

The coil in your stomach started to burn red hot again, and you sobbed, two of his fingers coming to your mouth and pressing hard against your tongue. Your lips closed around his fingers - your tongue circling around his digits - as your eyes rolled back in your head again.

“That’s it, my sweet girl. My sweet slut.” Johnny grunted out through clenched teeth, his voice tight in his throat, “Cum all over Daddy’s cock.” His words finally broke you, and you all but screamed around his fingers, your orgasm hitting you like a tonne of bricks. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, and he grunted out, his teeth sinking into the dip of your shoulder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, just like that baby.” He snarled against your skin, his tongue darting out and licking away the small amount of blood pooling on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, his pace speeding up even more. At this point, you were sure his hipbones were going to leave bruises against your ass with how hard he was pounding into you. You sobbed, thick tears running down your cheeks at the overstimulation, “Just like that, babygirl.” His tongue ran over the wounds on your shoulder, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against your neck.

“Da-Daddy~!” You cried out, and you heard his groan reverberate through your head. His pace started to become sloppy, his own orgasm near.

“Fuck, sweetheart-!” He grunted out, his moans strangled beside your ear. You gasped out choked sobs, his hand leaving your neck and coming back to your hip.

Within a couple of thrusts, Johnny stilled, as his cock twitched and pulsed in you. You threw your head back, letting out an animalistic scream as another orgasm rippled through you at the same time. You dropped your head to the pillow in front of you, gasping in greedy breaths. Your heart was racing in your chest, and your thighs trembled around his legs.

It was a quiet couple of seconds while you and Johnny caught your breath. He sucked in a shaky breath, pulling out of you, causing you to whine from the empty feeling. Your legs gave out under you, and you heard him chuckle gently. He got up from the bed, getting into the drawer where he knew you kept the towels. He went into the bathroom, and you heard the tap running. He returned to the bed, using the - now damp - towel to wipe the blood off of your legs, hips, and anywhere he had touched you. He turned you over, wiping you completely down. You turned over after a moment, giving him a tired smile.

“Now do I get my answer of what happened to your arms?” You asked, a soft chuckle coming out of your lips. He laughed as well, going to the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom.

“Stupid fucking idea of me, Ryan, and Wee-Man in a ball pit with an anaconda. No, wait, it was two anacondas.” You watched as he dabbed one of the washcloths you used for cleaning across his arms, the activities opening up the wounds again. He patched himself up as best as he could, half assed putting gauze all over his arms, “I was supposed to catch one of them, but the fucker kept whippin’ his head back and bitin’ me.” He got all of the blood off of his arms, throwing the shirt he was wearing into your bathroom trash can. He was fully nude as he walked back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for new clothes.

“If it was literally anyone but you, I would be surprised. You get checked by medical before you practically burst my door down?” You asked, a small yawn tearing its way from your lips. You heard him chuckle before he was slipping a new pair of underwear onto your legs, covering you with the comforter a second later. He crawled into bed beside you, holding you tight. You shifted uncomfortably until you got used to the feeling of the gauze on your skin.

“Yes, I did. Said it should heal within a couple of days, since they were surface punctures at best.” He held you tightly, the sound of his heartbeat soothing you and you snuggled more against his chest.

“You wanna explain why you practically tore my door off of the hinges to fuck?” You asked, his laugh rumbling through his chest.

“Bam’s stupid ass. I had my phone on one of the tables by the cameras, and before we got shootin’, you sent me that video.” His voice was husky again, his lips by your hairline. He pressed kiss after kiss to your forehead and scalp. “Bam brought me my phone, makin’ it sound like you were textin’ me frantically. Of course, I thought something was wrong at first, but I made the brilliant choice of openin’ the video you sent me.” He laughed, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Did anyone-” You asked, but he shook his head quickly.

“No, babygirl. No one saw what was on my phone. I closed out of my texts and put my phone in my pocket before anyone saw.” He reassured you, and you let out a shaky exhale, “Though it was in my head the entire time. Wasn’t thinkin’ straight, so that’s why the anaconda was able to take a couple of nibbles on me.” He chuckled against your forehead, his fingers tracing over your shoulder. He pulled his head back, looking at your shoulder. Where he had bit your shoulder had nice teeth marks in your skin, and he grimaced.

“Don’t worry about them, hon. They don’t hurt.” You assured him, shrugging, “I’ll doctor them up in the mornin’. It’s bedtime now.” You giggled softly, pulling his head down to where it was resting against yours. He hummed, his arms snaking back around you tightly.

“Bedtime it is, ma’am.” He murmured, and you rolled your eyes hard.

“Don’t call me that, PJ. I love you, but you know I hate that shit.” You chuckled, and he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too, sweetheart. But you know my mama raised me to be a southern gentleman.” He smiled against your skin, and you shook your head slightly.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way, baby. Goodnight.” You leaned your head up, giving him a sweet kiss, before you nuzzled your head into his chest. His heartbeat was coming back down to a normal level.

“Goodnight, babygirl. Sweet dreams.” Johnny pressed another kiss to your head, before letting his head fall back against the pillows.

[normspellsman]

Truly & Honestly

part one | part two | part three | part four (wip)

pairing: ao’nung x fem!sully!reader, lo’ak x twin sister!reader, & jake sully x daughter!reader

genre: angsty, comfort (from jake to reader), fluff, ao’nung being a simp for the reader, & the twins make up (yay!)

word count: 3.9k+

warning(s): jake feeling like he’s not an adequate father, lo’ak still in his self loathing era, lo’ak missing his twin :(, ao’nung growling, the sully twins crying, kissing, & reader + ao’nung being cute af

word bank: kehe — no, skxawng — moron; idiot, sempul — father, sempu — daddy (term of endearment), eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, paysyul — water lily, & sayrìp — handsome

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @goodiesinthecloset21 @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @liyahsocorro @minkyungseokie @chshshhshshshshshshshs

note: kinda rushed the end bc i struggled with figuring out what lo’ak should say & the reader should respond with & this is what i came up with. hope i did it justice & well enough. i swear i never read or written the words gently & softly so many times in my life holy shit 🧍🏻. anyway, the long awaited part three is finally here! yayyy! enjoy lovelies <3

It had been days since the last time you talked to Lo’ak, ignoring him everywhere you went.

At first, he avoided you too, trying to gather his thoughts and think of a way to apologize to you. He tried a couple of things that worked back when you both were children. He made you a new armband that matched his, but he didn’t see you wearing it the next day. He then made you a small trinket to add to your ever growing collection of random shit you found, but it was right where he left it the next day. He then tried to talk to you but all he received in return was your silence and Ao’nung’s small growls in warning for him to step away. Lo’ak felt like he was going to circles. He felt utterly hopeless.

It wasn’t long until both of your parents and remaining siblings realized your avoidance towards each other. Neteyam had failed to tell Jake and Neytiri about what happened that fateful night, in turn disregarding telling Kiri and Tuk. He wanted Lo’ak to tell them for himself or at least have you confront them about it and receive comfort from them. But he knew the both of you were too stubborn to ask help from your parents, so one night he asks no one in particular if they knew why you were, yet again, staying over in Tsireya and Ao’nung’s marui pod.

His question made Lo’ak freeze and nearly choke on the food that was halfway down his throat, harshly swallowing in discomfort.

Neytiri was deeply disturbed by your absence. She missed you dearly. She asked you many times as to why you were never around and you never gave her the truth, wanting Lo’ak to do it on his own. You’d always give her an answer of Tsireya is offering me extra breathing lessons, it’s just easier if I stay over for dinner tonight or Tsireya and I wanted a sleep over. Neytiri always frowned at your answers, knowing that you weren’t telling her the truth. But she never pried. She knew that you would tell her the true reason someday so she let you stay with Tsireya as long as you needed.

Jake didn’t realize your distance until nearly a week after the fight. He had been too caught up in his training with Tonowari and making sure that Quaritch was nowhere near Awa’atlu to comprehend your absence from the family for one too many nights. But once he did, he felt uneasy. He knew you like the back of his hand. He had to. You’re his first born daughter, it was expected of him to. He was always the first person you’d run to whenever you had any kind of problem, confiding in him for a solution or aid. It warmed his heart that he was the first person you came to in time of need, made him feel wanted and loved. So when he saw you barely glance at Lo’ak or even say goodbye to them before heading off to wherever you had in mind, he felt unease settle itself on to his chest. He knew something was wrong and wanted to know what it was, but didn’t want to pry it out of you. It wouldn’t work. He felt helpless and wanted to figure out whatever was wrong so you’d stop distancing yourself from the family. He just wanted his little girl back.

The night Neteyam had asked that question, made Neytiri and Jake pop up in interest and repeat the question to their circle of children.

Lo’ak wanted to tear his older brothers head off right then and there. He didn’t need his parents meddling in both of your business. This was something between him and you, not your parents.

Kiri and Tuk had also realized your absence but didn’t give it too much thought. You always hung out with them at your guys spot and interacted with them. Yeah they found it odd that you rarely slept in the family pod and if you did, you were the first person awake and out of the house. So Neteyam’s question piqued their interest.

It took a lot of prying on Neteyam’s part to finally get the truth out of Lo’ak, but once he did, shit hit the fan.

“Kehe!” Neytiri gasped out, truly surprised at her sons words, “You did not!”.

She thought she raised both of her sons to respect all women, especially the ones in their lives. She couldn’t believe that her own son called his own twin a slut. And for what? Seeing the Olo’eyktan’s son and not telling a single soul about it? Neytiri was flabbergasted at the news.

“Boy,” Jake growled, beyond pissed at his sons previous actions and lack of communication about what occurred. He didn’t even need to ask Lo’ak about whether what he said was true or not, it was written on his face that he was guilty.

He found himself disappointed in his son, perhaps even more so than he usually was whenever he heard or caught Lo’ak doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Jake had made sure to instill how he and Neteyam should treat every woman they came into contact with, continuously reminding them to behave accordingly and treat them with respect no matter what. So to hear that his son had called you, his sister, a slut for seeing a boy, made his blood boil. I’d ought to show that boy how humans would treat him, he thought in response.

“I know,” Lo’ak croaked out, on the verge of tears. His guilt was eating at him everyday, practically being the only emotion he felt for nearly the past two weeks. “I know what I said was completely out of line. I was angry and that isn’t an excuse for what I said. I am desperately trying to make it up to (Y/N), but nothing’s working. I’m going in circles trying to,” he finished, tears running down his cheeks.

Lo’ak knows that he shouldn’t be crying. That he doesn’t deserve to. That he doesn’t deserve anyone's pity for what he did. But the guilt ate away at him and he couldn’t help but cry. He just wanted you to forgive him and be his twin again, his other half. He felt incomplete without you by his side. It physically hurt to have you avoid him and not have you next to him.

Tuk had wiggled her way into Lo’ak’s lap in order to comfort him, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck as he cried into her shoulder.

Every Sully member could see just how much Lo’ak regretted saying what he did. They felt bad that he was feeling the way he did but they also knew that he deserved your avoidance and distance. It was the only way that would allow Lo’ak to see the impact of his words.

———

You were laying on the soft, warm sand below you when a shadow covered the suns soft rays, blocking them and covering you in its coolness.

You quickly opened your eyes to see who it was and to shoo them away, not in the mood. But your mouth quickly shut itself once you saw your Sempul hover over your relaxed figure, a small smile on his face.

“Sun bathing?” He asked, sitting next to you as you sat yourself up.

You only shrugged in response, wrapping your arms around your legs and pulling them up to your chest.

You felt bad for essentially ignoring all of your family members, but it was the only way to get it through Lo’ak’s thick skull the kind of impact his words had on you.

Your Father hums and looks out to the water line, silence overtaking the moment for a few beats. Until he finally speaks.

“Lo’ak told me,” he starts, “About what happened that night. Don’t worry. I gave him a stern talking to,” he continued, giving you a small smirk at his words.

Jake’s stern talking to’s almost always involved him dragging one of his children somewhere, yelling at them for Eywa knows what they did, and giving them some sort of punishment that will go on for however long Jake deems necessary. You found yourself wondering what punishment your brother got for his actions.

“I figured,” you chuckled, still looking out towards the water line in front of you.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I know that it shouldn’t be me apologizing, but,” Jake says, tip of his tail swishing back and forth a bit before resting by your siding, curling itself around you gently for comfort, “Your brother is a complete skxawng. And I’m sorry for…not instilling it in Lo’ak’s brain enough to not call anyone, you that.”.

Your head whips towards your Fathers direction at his words.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, sempu,” you replied, eyebrows furrowed together, “Lo’ak is a skxawng and said something he shouldn’t have. He knew what he was doing and none of that reflects your teachings.”.

Jake could almost scoff at how wise you sounded. Since when did you become so wise?

Your Father only hummed in response. He wanted the best for his little girls, for you. And to hear that his own son had insulted his daughter and took his words to heart made him feel as if he wasn't adequate enough as a Father. He spent so many years craving for a family of his own before he was sent to Pandora, knowing that it wasn’t possible in his human condition. And once he finally got it, he felt over the moon. He wanted his children to love and respect each other, something that was a struggle for him and Tommy growing up. So being in this current predicament and having you and Lo’ak avoiding each other like the plague, made him feel as if he wasn’t successful in emphasizing how important family was to his children.

“I think you should hear him out,” Jake whispers to you, turning his head to face you, smiling gently down at you, “You don’t have to now. But, soon. Whenever you feel like it,” he reassured.

Your lips pierced together into a thin line, head nodding at his words.

You know that you should give Lo’ak some benefit of the doubt and at least listen to what he has to say, but it’s hard. The last thing your brother said to you were words that caused severe distress to your psyche. To be honest, you were terrified to see what he had to say. To see if he truly meant it or not.

“I’ll try,” you replied.

Your Father continued to look down at you as he smiled, bringing you into his side as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You laid your head on his shoulder in response.

“So, Ao’nung, huh?” Jake snorts out, teasing you.

“Dad!” You groaned out, covering your face with your hands as you lightly shoved him away, earning a loud cackle from your Father.

———

You were with Ao’nung when Lo’ak approached you for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Ao’nung had taken you out on a date around the island, as he usually did just to show how much he adored you. It almost always consisted of Ao’nung taking you to one of the many jewelry stands the Metkayina jewelers had out, telling you to pick whichever necklace, bracelet, or armband your heart desired and gently putting it on you once you budged, walking with you hand in hand around the island, twirling you around as you two danced to his light humming and singing, and finally going for a swim to wrap up your time together. Even though the dates were repetitive and always the same, they never failed to make you smile from ear to ear and warm your heart. It was something that you and Ao’nung did together to enjoy each other’s company. It was nice.

The both of you were spinning and dancing around in the warm sand as your boyfriend softly sang a song his Sa’nok used to sing to him when he had trouble sleeping, the melody being gentle and delicate, a perfect song just to waltz or sway to.

Ao’nung pulled you into his chest, slightly leaning down to grasp your hands against his lean chest, dipping his head down so you were face to face. He continued to sing the song as he smiled, rough hands slowly moving from your hands on his chest to your shoulders down towards your back before resting against your hips, pulling you in even closer.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation Ao’nung’s hands left on your skin as they just barely grazed it, moving your arms to wrap them around the back of his neck, fingers making their way into his curly hair. Your fingers gently run through the loose ends of his bun before messaging the scalp underneath his usual hairstyle, elevating some of the pressure from the tightness of it.

The Metkayina boy shivered at your soft and slow touch, nuzzling his forehead against yours as the two of you swayed in the gentle breeze.

“You look so pretty, my paysyul,” Ao’nung whispered out, blue eyes deeply gazing into your amber ones. He loved calling you new pet names, enjoying the soft blush that spread itself across your cheeks and neck once you processed what he called you. You loved the nicknames he gave you as well, making your stomach churn in excitement and never failed to make you smile in adoration. He truly did love you and he expresses that in many different ways, pet names being at the top of the list.

A light purple hue painted itself across your cheeks and down your neck in response to your lovers nickname. “And you look so sayrìp, Ma’Nung,” you whispered back, smiling up at the boy.

The teen boy purred out at your response, softly rubbing his face into the side of your head, kissing the arch of your eyebrow.

Ao’nung halted his singing and humming for a moment, basking in the silence and blissful peace that settled itself into the moment. Everything in his life was so quiet and peaceful the minute you arrived on Awa’atlu. He didn’t know he could feel such peace with a singular person and he was glad that he felt it with you.

But, unfortunately, much like the event that occurred days prior, Lo’ak had to ruin it with the loud clearing of his throat.

A cold chill ran up and down your spine at the sound, stopping all movement you and Ao’nung were doing. A small growl emitted itself from the Metkayina’s throat, grip on your hips getting tighter as he pulled you closer into his embrace. It was a clear warning to Lo’ak to stay away from you and leave the two of you alone.

“Can I talk to you, (Y/N)?” Your brother asked, standing a good couple of feet away from the both of you.

Lo’ak had worked up a lot of nerve to approach your figures once he caught sight of the two of you dancing. He didn’t want to ruin the moment the both of you were sharing but he knew that if he didn’t go to you and try to talk to you now, he never would. So, he gathered up all the courage he could muster and made his way to you, hyping himself up on the way.

“Leave, Lo’ak,” Ao’nung hissed out, angling you away from your twin, “She doesn’t want to speak with you.”.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, fish lips,” Lo’ak argued, growling out. Your boyfriend shouldn’t be speaking for you when he wasn’t the one who decided things for you.

Another growl left Ao’nung’s lips as he glared at the Omatikaya boy, anger creeping up his throat. Your brother shouldn’t be speaking to you if you didn’t want him to, especially after what he said to you.

“Ao’nung,” you mumbled out, hands now on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

Much like your brother, you knew that if you didn’t talk to him at this moment, you most likely never will. You needed to nip this thing in the butt sooner than later.

You nodded at your boyfriend, telling him to stand down and give you and your brother some space, that it was okay to leave you alone with him.

Ao’nung only huffed in response, eyes narrowing at Lo’ak behind you. Before he parted ways with you, he captured your lips into a kiss, running the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip before pulling back, not giving you time to respond to his light teasing.

“Our spot after? Twenty after eclipse?” He softly asked, thumb running over your cheekbone as he grasped your face in his hands. He wasn’t very happy that your brother interrupted your alone time and didn’t want to leave you alone with the one that deeply hurt you, but he trusted your opinion and respected your wishes, no questions asked.

You hummed as a response to Ao’nung’s request. There was no way that you weren’t going to tell your boyfriend how this conversation was going to go. Albeit the tension only being between you and your brother, Ao’nung was very much involved as you were.

Once Ao’nung became only a speck in your eyesight, you finally turned around to face your brother.

“Yes?” You asked, arms folding over your chest in an attempt to protect and hold yourself together. You had no idea where this conversation was going to go and that made you anxious.

Lo’ak took a deep breath in before he breathed it out, quickly gathering and preparing himself before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I know apologizing, no matter how many times I do it, isn’t going to change what I said and the way it affected you. But, I am deeply sorry about what I said to you, about you. There is no excuse. I have no excuse,” he started, tears stinging his waterline, “I was so angry at that moment that common sense was thrown out of the window. I don’t even know why I called you that. I was just so angry that you were with Ao’nung, someone who made it quite clear that we were freaks and were not welcomed here. I know that he had been different after leaving me at the reef, which I could assume is around the time you two got together.”.

You nodded at his guess, confirming.

“But I still didn’t trust him. I thought he somehow managed to manipulate you into falling for him. That he was forcing you. It was the first thought that popped into my head when I saw you two that night. I couldn’t comprehend that someone like you, my sweet and caring sister, could fall for someone like Ao’nung, a mean bully who took pleasure in causing pain to others. Confusion and anger clouded my vision. I just…” he paused, a couple of tears had already dropped down his face, “I know that I am shitty at apologies and can never accurately get out my thoughts, but I am sorry for causing you so much pain from my words. I am such a shit brother and you shouldn’t accept my apology. This past week has been awful. I felt incomplete without you. You felt miles away when in reality, you were only feet away. There was this…emptiness inside of me whenever you weren’t by my side. Everything felt wrong without you there to experience it with me.”.

“I desperately missed you. So much. It physically hurt me to not have you by my side. It made me realize that my words and actions do have consequences and that I wasn’t going to escape this situation scott free. Dad gave me the worst scolding that I’ve ever gotten. He told me that I was really fucking stupid and ignorant with my words. That he and Mom raised me better,” a chuckle escaped from your lips at that sentence, only imagining the type of scolds and hisses Lo’ak received from both of your parents.

“Yeah, you were really stupid to say that,” you replied, arms still crossed against your chest but a small smirk on your lips this time. It was nice to hear from him that he was punished by your Father, solidifying what he had told you earlier. But you still felt somewhat bad for him, knowing how angry and intense your Father can get when dishing out punishments.

Lo’ak chuckled at your acknowledgment, wiping away a couple of tears that continued to run down his face. He wanted for days to hear your voice and for you to acknowledge him. He felt relieved that you were talking to him and actually were listening to what he had to say, even if he didn’t deserve to be heard.

“I’m so sorry. You are not what I said you were. You are not slut. There is no excuse for what I did and I know that I can’t take it back or make it up to you in any way that will undo the damage I did. But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will do anything,” he finished, eyes never leaving yours.

The smirk fell off your face after he was done and silence overcame the two of you for a couple of beats.

“What you said really hurt me, Lo’ak,” you started, arms uncrossing from your chest, “It really fucked me up for a while. The intensity of your words made me truly believe your words. I know now that you didn’t mean them but in the moment, it felt like you did. I avoided you to teach you a lesson. To teach you that what you said was not okay. I am sorry for making you feel that kind of pain from my absence. I felt the same too. There were too many times where I wanted to just give up and go and just sit by you to ease it, but I knew that would defeat the purpose of what I was trying to get through your insanely thick skull.”.

The both of you laughed at your childish insult, more tears running down the both of your cheeks.

“But,” you continued, “I forgave you the minute it happened, Lo. I forgive you. I just needed to teach you a lesson and make sure it actually stuck and made an impact,” you finished, hands grasping your brothers.

Lo’ak smiled down at you from his height, lips quivering as he did so. To hear that you forgave him immediately after it happened was relieving but also made him regret his words even more. You were so kind and forgiving to him when he felt like he didn’t even deserve it.

“I love you, sister,” he whispers, bringing you into his warm embrace, one hand going behind your head to pull it into his chest while the other one went around your waist.

“I love you too, brother,” you replied back, accepting his hug and wrapping your arms around his back.

The two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, hugging as the waves softly lapped against the shore.

It felt good to have your brother back and to finally hug him again after all this time, the emptiness the both of you felt from each other’s absences now replaced with warmth and comfort.

You couldn’t wait to meet up with Ao’nung later and tell him all about your conversation.

[hallietblr]

here with me | j.fisher

a/n: first post!! a mini tsitp angtsy fic just because:) i hope you all have an amazing and beautiful day<3

warnings: cheating, swearing, angst.

—

“y/n, wait!” i can hear him exclaim behind me as i quickly walk adjacent to the fisher’s summer home and away from the pool.

my heart is thumping loud in my chest and there’s a slight ringing in my ears as i sniffle, trying to prevent the threatening tears from falling. i tuck the hanging pieces of hair behind my ears as i silently beg for my legs to move faster, rushing to the empty streets of cousins.

unfortunately, the golden curled boy was much taller therefore quicker than i was despite him being in his pool for a night swim… with her. i struggle to take a deep breath as his footsteps approach from behind.

“please, baby” jeremiah pleads, attempting to grab my wrist, “it’s not what it looks like, i promise.”

i stop in my tracks, my wrist in his larger hand. once he realizes that i’m no longer going to try to run from him, his grip on me slowly softens. at this point, the two of us are in the middle of the road. only sounds of crickets filling the air and the shimmering summer stars up above keeping us company.

i don’t even dare to look him in the eyes, his beautiful sky blue eyes that i adore. i know the second our eyes connect, that i will break. the cries that i have been trying to keep down will arise.

i look down at my beaten white converse, “then tell me what it was, jeremiah.

because to me, it was very clear that i just caught you hooking up with belly in the pool.” i spat out, my voice laced with betrayl, “it’s always been her… hasn’t it?”

i turn so our chests are facing one another, my gaze slowly crawling up from my shoes to his stunned expression. the tears are welling up in my eyes and i don’t even try to hide it anymore — he’s at a loss for words, his eyes dancing across my face as he searches for something to say

“i-” he stutters out. my head drops, slowly shaking in disbelief to myself,

“i always knew it. ever since we were seven, you’ve only had eyes for her but a part of me always hoped that you will notice me someday.” i say sadly, “all i ever wanted was for you, my best friend, to see me.”

his hand gently grazes my arm before settling onto my shoulder, “y/n, love… i do see you. you’re my girlfriend after all.”

i scoff in response, “right, so i’m your girlfriend but i’m not enough for you since you’re kissing belly.”

the moonlight shines brightly on his caramel curls, highlighting the lighter features of it that it got from being in the summer sun. every inch of my body wants to melt into his strong arms — but i know that if i allow myself to do that, that i’m giving a piece of my heart away to someone to clearly wants someone else.

how could i be so stupid? thinking that after eight years of jeremiah loving belly, that his feelings would suddenly change and love me instead. at the same time, it felt so real.

it was last summer, when the three of us were fifteen, was when he confessed to me on the beach. we had just finished a morning surf session, something only jeremiah and i would do together. he and i sat on the soft sands of the beach, completely alone as the entire world was just waking up. we watched the waves, my head on his shoulder like always when he put his hand on my cheek.

jeremiah told me that since our last summer at the beach house, he couldn’t stop thinking about me. and not just in the best friend sense. he said me that he wanted us to be together, that it was just right. how it was always meant to be us two in the end, how it was written in the stars.

it felt so… real.

we have been together since, tagged as the it couple of cousins. we surfed together, partied together, played volleyball together, essentially been attached to the hip. susannah, laurel, and rachelle (my mother) claimed they always saw it coming since we were babies. they say they always knew that their children will end up being together, or maybe that’s just what they dreamed about so that they will be sisters officially.

i snapped out of my trance of reminiscing our relationship, i look at him. my jeremiah. i could tell behind his eyes that he knew exactly what he had done, what was missing from his eyes was the sight of regret. something i had silently begged to see, because maybe, just maybe we will be able to recover from this.

“jere…” i sigh, his hand brushing small strands of hair out of my face so he can see me better. a tear slips from the corner of my eye, travelling down my cheek, “tell me that it’s hasn’t always been her.”

“y/n”

this was the make it or break it point. i pray that if he tells me that it genuinely meant nothing, then we would maybe be fine.

my lip quivers, “please just tell me that i’m the right one for you, that’s it’s just you and me until the end.”

his mouth opens slightly, but then closes.

shit.

i sharply inhale, trying to collect the racing thoughts in my head, “jeremiah, please… for us. just tell it meant absolutely nothing and that you don’t have feelings for her still.”

“y/n…”

“you owe this to me,” i cry, the tears falling faster than ever as i feel my heart starting to break, “just tell me you don’t see her like that anymore. i swear, if you just say that you only want me, i promise i’ll drop this all.

i will never mention this again. we can forget about this a- and we can go surfing tomorrow, we can take the jeep to get th- the muffins for everyone” i beg him, his thumb swipes the tears away from my cheek as his head drops, “just say you’re here with me.”

“you know i can’t say that” he whispers, almost as if he’s scared that someone else will hear him. or maybe because he knew that this was the ending point.

broken.

i step away from him. i stare at him, the boy i love more than anyone — but it’s not him. my legs feel like jello and my knees feel like they’re about to give out,

“i knew it.” i breath out, swallowing sharply, “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”

i can feel his eyes on me, but he says nothing. any ounce of our relationship that could possibly be saved if he could just say something to pick up the broken pieces.

but, nothing.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” jeremiah says sadly, “i never wanted to hurt you like this, sunshine.”

i roll my eyes as tears continue to roll, “you have no right to call me that. don’t even think about calling me when belly tells you that she doesn’t see you like that. you and i know goddamn well that she loves conrad. she only kissed you because he’s been brushing her off.”

with that, i turn away from my ex-lover and start walking away back to my own home. without even a glance back at where he stood alone on the empty streets, knowing that he had just lost the best girl he would ever have.

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Pregnancy

Summary: The reader finds herself pregnant and fear rises as she realizes she has to tell her partner, Matthew.

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Female Reader

Content: No swearing; mention of periods, morning sickness, pregnancy & describing pregnancy; fear of rejection and abandonment; soft Matthew & good ending! If there are any other warnings you'd prefer I add please mention them in the notes!

Wordcount: 1k>

Enjoy!

Matthew was great with children. He absolutely adored kids and couldn't wait to have his own someday. So when you realized you may be with child, you couldn't wait to take a test and announce the possible news. But at the same time, even with Matthew's positive attitude towards being a father, you were still terrified to tell him. You knew you had to tell him soon. He was very attentive to your cycle. He always gave you extra cuddles and made no excuses for late-night convenience store trips to settle your cravings, so when you went too long without complaining about your period, he would know something was different.

So when your period didn't come on its usual date and you had random flashes of nausea in the mornings, you decided to buy a few at-home pregnancy tests. You did all three and let them sit for the needed amount of time for the result to show. The dreaded five minutes felt like a lifetime. It took every ounce of restraint in your body to not check them before the timer went off. All three were positive. You were overjoyed that you were pregnant, but the fear of rejection and abandonment soon crept up.

Shaking as you sat on the toilet, all three positive tests in your hands, you went over your options in your head. Terminating the pregnancy was an option, but you had both been wanting to start a family for years, and you didn't want to waste this opportunity. 

After almost half an hour and many warm tears down your cheeks, you decided to break the news to Matthew once he arrived home from set today. You look down at your watch, the miniature clock reading four o’clock. He should be home anytime soon.

You begin to tidy up the house a bit and made something to eat for when Matthew arrives home. You caught yourself holding your stomach, imagining it round with your child. You reminisce about the memories and love that went into creating such a beautiful thing. You imagine Matthew pressing his lips against your swollen stomach, whispering heartfelt words to your unborn child and murmuring against your lips how much of a wonderful mother you are going to be once your little bundle of joy is ready to come out.

You hear the door swing open and Matthew's loud voice reverberates throughout the house. “Guess who!” You straighten yourself out, take a deep breath in and slowly let it out before greeting him at the entrance. “It’s me, Gube,” he jokes, taking you by the waist and kissing you. “Hey, babe,” he smiles. 

You notice his arm hidden behind his back and he whips a bouquet of flowers from behind himself. “What are these for?” you ask with a smile. “I saw them on my way home and they reminded me of you,” he explains. “My pretty girl deserves some pretty flowers.” This small gesture helps put you at ease and calms your nerves. “I love them,” you smile as you take them to the kitchen to put them in a vase. Once you place the flowers in a nice spot in the sun, you ask Matthew to sit down. 

“Oh, sure. What’s up?” he asks. Now he was the nervous one. You sit down on the vintage upholstered loveseat in the living room. You try to muster up the courage and the words to explain the situation, but all that comes out are unconfident words and tears. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, baby? You know you can trust me,” Matthew whispers as he wraps an arm around you. You wipe away the small tears and take another affirming breath.

“You, um- You know how you love kids, and say that you always wanted to be a father?” Matthew knew exactly what you meant. “Are you… Wait are you pregnant?” you nod at his question and watch as the biggest smile appears on his face. 

“Oh, baby,” he kisses you like he hadn't seen you in years, like a lover away at war. “Baby, we’re- Oh. we’re having a baby, a- a baby!” You had never seen him this happy before. “We’re having a baby,” you confirm, and he kisses you again, and again, and again. Youre surprised his lips werent chapped from how many times he kissed you.

“When did you find out?” Matthew asks as his hand instinctively lands on your stomach, gently rubbing the bump-less flesh. “Today, just before you got home. I was scared, but I couldn't wait to tell you,” you explain. He kisses your cheeks, then your forehead. “Oh, love. There was no reason to be scared. I Love you and I will love you until I’m dead and when this earth ceases to exist. And I love our baby, even if they aren't here yet. If they're even an ounce similar to you, I will love them forever.”

You knew Matthew was the romantic type, but you had never seen him like this. You knew he was going to be a great father, and you couldn’t wait a minute more.

[housewarningparty]

Buffy/Faith + cold, scar, kiss

(For the "send me three words and a character/ship" and I'll write you a scene ask game)

So there's really only one idea for a BodLang sequel that I really care about doing someday and it's this: like two years after the epilogue, Faith goes back to Boston to settle some affairs when she finds out her dad has died and Buffy goes with her. This would be a scene from that hypothetical fic. TW for non-specific references to child abuse (we ARE talking about Faith's family background)

--

“Faith.” Her name escapes Buffy's lips in a cloud of steam, dissolving into the winter air in a second, so fast it might as well have never existed. Buffy clenches her fists tight at her sides and takes a halting step forward, says it again, softer, more carefully. “Faith.”

Faith doesn't turn around. She's got her hands, bare, gloveless, braced on a metal rail. It's cold enough to snow, though it hasn't yet, and Buffy knows it must be cold enough to burn. She wants to reach out, to fold her arms around Faith's body and pull her back, encircle Faith in warmth, take her away from the pain that seems to lurk in every corner of this city. But she doesn't. Not yet. It wouldn't do any good, not before Faith is ready.

“I'm good,” Faith lies, voice rough, head bowed. Her shoulders don't shake, her hands don't leave the rail.

“You're not,” Buffy says, taking another step closer but stopping short of reaching out to touch her. “And you don't have to be, but don't lie about it. Not to me.”

Faith nods, looses a sigh that deflates the rigid set of her shoulders. She seems to shrink, finally, curling in on herself. She cants her head a little, looking sidelong at Buffy for the first time since she swept out of the apartment. “Sorry.”

“It's alright,” Buffy says and she means it. 

“I didn't think it would bother me this bad,” Faith laughs this brittle, hollow laugh, and Buffy can hear the tears in her voice now, even as she shakes her head, sniffing hard to keep them at bay. “I thought, y'know. It'd be good to go back. I'm strong now, y'know? I'm a slayer. And my life is good. I've got friends and I've got you. More than I ever thought I'd get, so. So — y'know, we’re here anyway and it makes sense, come back, get some closure. Thought it would reframe things, being back, really feel how different I am after all these years. How grown.”

Faith pauses and turns around, looking up at the streetlight hanging over them instead of at Buffy directly, the halogen bulb pouring yellow light over her in the dark. “What a fuckin’ joke.” Faith sniffs again, eyes squeezing shut against tears and runs a knuckle over her nose, hard and fast enough to make Buffy wince. “Swear to God, I've never felt any smaller.”

Buffy feels her heart throb in her chest, bruised and aching like a something slammed shut in a doorway. She can't help herself, taking another step closer, reaching a hand out to brush against Faith's cheek. When she doesn't flinch back or pull away, Buffy takes another step forward, brushes back the hair that's fallen into Faith's face, tucks it gently behind her ear.

“The things that fuckin' happened to me in that apartment, B, I swear,” Faith chokes out, sniffing hard again. “I don't even want to tell you.”

Someday, Buffy hopes she will. She dreads it, also, because she knows it will hurt. Faith has let some things slip over the years that paint a nasty picture. And there's more still Faith hasn't had to say, hasn't had a choice in revealing. There's a story in the cluster of too-round burn scars below her ribs, on the back of her right shoulder blade. 

“I'm sorry,” Buffy says, finally, trying to make her voice low and soothing, hating herself a little when it shakes in spite of her efforts. “I'm sorry that no one protected you when you were small and vulnerable. You deserved to have someone to take care of you and show you love and keep you safe.”

She can't help the way her own voice breaks at the end of the sentence, or the way she suddenly misses her own mother so fiercely it takes her breath away. 

Buffy clears her throat a little awkwardly and continues, “And I'm sorry it still hurts, even now. And that coming back here brought it all up for you again But I promise you — no one is ever going to hurt you like that ever again. You know why?”

“I'm a slayer,” Faith mutters, clenching her cold hands between them. “They couldn't.”

Buffy pauses a moment and pulls off her gloves, biting her lip at the sudden rush of cold against her bare skin. She reached out, carefully, cupping Faith's fists, uncurling them, cupping them between her own warm hands before raising them up between them. She leans down, breathes out hot air against the icy skin. Presses a soft kiss Faith's knuckles.

“That's true,” Buffy says quietly. “You're very strong. You're one of the strongest people I know, one of the best fighters. You've faced down demons and monsters and bad men, and you've beaten them all. You use your strength to help people. To protect people who are weaker than you, who need someone to help them. There's no way to make what happened to you here right, Faith, but that doesn't stop you from making the world better, in spite of the ways it failed you. And I'm so proud of you for that and I'm so glad you're here to do it. Because you're good.”

“I'm—” There's a wobble in Faith's voice and a fierceness in her expression that tells Buffy she wants to argue.

Buffy doesn't let her. “And the other reason no one could ever hurt you like that again is because I wouldn't let them. I won't ever let anyone treat you like that. Someone should have protected you when you were little, Faith, and they didn't and that's terrible. But I can. I will. And not just me, okay? Everyone. Willow and Giles and Dawn and Ange, even Xander.l And all those girls you've helped become real slayers.”

“Buffy,” Faith finally crumbles, lurching forward into Buffy's arms, breath spilling out in hot, wet staccato bursts against Buffy's neck.

“You'll never be hurt that way again because you'll never alone again like you were before,” Buffy promises into the shell of Faith's ear. “Never. I promise.”

Buffy feels Faith's hands clenching tight in the fabric of her coat, clinging to her with all the desperation and ferocity of a frightened child and thinks, not for the first time, that it's probably a good thing that Faith’s mom died before Buffy ever got a chance to meet her. She doesn't know what she would be capable of if she ever actually got to meet one of the people who'd wounded Faith so badly, so deeply, but she doesn't think it would be good.

“I'm— can you?” Faith sniffs, pulling back a little to catch Buffy's eye. “Can we go inside now? Not back there, but— I'm cold.”

“Sure,” Buffy says. She leans forward, presses a gentle kiss to the side of Faith's mouth. She means it just for comfort, a quick peck, and she's surprised when Faith immediately tilts her face, capturing Buffy's lips in another, deeper kiss. There's a desperation here that's familiar to Buffy, after so many years with Faith. An urgent, cavernous hunger, the yearning for reassurance, to feel wanted, to feel herself made precious in Buffy's touch. 

Buffy tries her best to sate that need, to pour all of her love, the seriousness of her promise I will protect you, I won't let you be hurt into the kiss. She slides one hand up to press into Faith's back, the space between her shoulder blades, to keep their bodies close. The other hand she cards through Faith's hair, nails light against her scalp, the way that always seems to calm her down. Buffy opens her mouth when she feels Faith’s tongue brush against her lips. She lets Faith in, swallows Faith’s answering whimper, thinking You can have anything you ask me for, I will never turn you away. Wishing she could somehow reach into Faith's heart, untangle all the painful, knotted emotions of her childhood hurts, contenting herself with this instead: loving her now, not letting her forget or doubt it.

“Love you,” Faith whispers, voice raw, when they break apart. “Sorry, I'm — Buffy, I really, really—”

“I know,” Buffy says, kissing her again, lingering, sweet. “I know. I love you too. Now let's go. Let me take you someplace warm.”

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Epilogue (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 13.

Epilogue

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, crying, trauma, mentions of killing characters, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, Anakin Skywalker's rage, reader insert, Grief, betrayal, REX CRYING, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag L

In the end, Umbara belonged to the Republic.

General Kenobi's battalion routed the last holdouts of Umbarans. Which allowed the remaining 501st to also secure several sectors.

A pyrrhic victory. One filled with death, betrayal and agony. 

Gunships had arrived to pick up the 212th who joined you in the hunt for Krell. You watched Dogma get on one of those ships, intending to leave the 501st and become a Coruscant guard. 

It suits him, you think.

You were standing next to Rex, watching a 501st ARF trooper help one of the injured 212th stand. Jesse, Tup and Fives were also with you.

“What's the point in all of this?” The clone captain shook his head, “I mean…why?” 

“I don’t know, Sir.” Fives responded, looking down, “I don’t think anybody knows. But, I do know that someday this war is going to end.” He turned his head up to try and meet the captain's eye.

“Then what?” Rex turned to face him, “We’re soldiers. What happens to us then?”

I don’t know. But I’ll be with you when you reach that point. 

Silently, you grabbed Rex’s hand. You hadn’t been able to look at him since killing Krell. You hadn't entirely come to terms with the fact that you ended the General's life.

Another gunship landed and the doors opened. General Skywalker stepped off, looking around furiously. Once he saw Rex, he rushed towards your group, “Captain Rex! Obi-wan sent a transmission that something happened. Krell ordered you to fire on another battalion!?”

You weren’t force sensitive, but the air around Anakin was buzzing with worry and panic. He cared deeply for his men. 

“General,” Rex saluted in greeting, “There’s…a lot you need to know.” He motioned for Anakin to follow to the airbase center.

The Jedi knew something was wrong, judging by his stare. Rex was too tense. too stiff.

You went with him to the tower to answer questions about Krell. It was only right, as you were the one who killed the Jedi. It made sense a Jedi would pass judgment. 

Your lover had only gotten about halfway through his report when you all made it to the top. When Rex explained Krell’s attempted execution of Jesse and Fives, you noticed a growing crack in one of the windows. 

As you and the captain retold events, that crack grew until there was a web of instability through the glass. When the report reached the point of firing on the 212th, the window shattered, sending glass to the ground below.

Anakin’s anger was so thick you could taste it.

His blue eyes were bright with rage and sadness, “You…I should…” He paced, “I should have been here! I should have stopped him!” 

“General…” Your words were quiet. quieter than intended, “No one saw this coming…”

“The council should have!” Anakin shouted, “The council should have known! I should have known! Instead we were so focused on victory…” He stepped back, eyes wide, “How many…How many did he kill with his fucking plans?”

In the light, you swear you could make out unshed tears. 

You cleared your throat deciding to be honest with him, “A little over a third of the 501st is dead.”

“That can’t be!”

 “Kix and I have confirmed the number three times, General.” Your voice was steady, surprisingly since you were so close to breaking down, “A little over one third.” 

Because you failed to save them.

Anakin stumbled back, raising a hand to his face, “Krell…”

“Is dead, General.” Rex answered him, stepping forward, “He was executed after being arrested. His body is in the brig.”

“By who?” 

“Me, General.” You responded, taking the Jedi off guard, “If you see it fit that I’m punished for killing a Jedi-”

“No.” General Skywalker straightened, “No. No one is going to be punished for what happened here,” His voice was trembling. The glass of another window crackled. This time, it was undeniable, there were tears in his eyes.

He cares so much for his men…

The breath the General took was shaky at best, “Rex…I…I want the men to rest. Properly. Once we’re back on Coruscant, the 501st is going on leave, so everyone can recover,” He cleared his throat, trying to get his emotions under control, “I will need to speak with the council, but I swear, I will never leave you all in the hands of a madman ever again.”

Anakin put both his hands on Rex’s shoulders, taking the clone off guard. 

“I promise Rex. This will never happen again. Not while I’m alive.”

Your lover nodded, “I know General. The men appreciate your leadership. No one faults you for what happened.” 

“I still should have been here.” He responded, “Both of you, get some rest. I need to send a message to Obi-wan.”

Wordlessly, the both of you stepped out of the room to the lift. However, before you lowered to the ground, you heard Anakin through the heavy metal doors. 

“How could the council let this happen, Obi-wan!?”

Your lover was staring ahead, brown eyes haunted as the lift lowered to the ground floor. You notice that something in him shifted. As if a switch was just turned off. 

Umbara changed him. It changed you. Most likely changed the 501st too. 

Once outside, Fives and Jesse were waiting, “How’d the General take it?” The ARC trooper asked. 

“Did you see the second broken window?” You snarked bitterly. 

There was no response from your lover. No comment to tell you to hush. You looked over to him, worry washing over you.

Rex looked…empty all of a sudden. His steps seemed unsteady. His expression was blank.

Anakin’s arrival has brought a sense of safety. Everyone knew that the General would fight and defend the clones in his legion. Even die for them, if the situation called for it. With Skywalker here, the 501st captain didn’t need to fight so much. Everyone could finally breathe. Rex included.

Adrenaline crash. He needs rest.

“The General has commanded everyone to rest and recover from…everything that's happened.” You informed the two troopers in front of you, “He’ll speak with the Council, figure out what to do…When we’re able, we’ll be leaving for Coruscant to go on leave.” 

Jesse nodded before perking up, “Captain Rex..?”

“I got him.” You held his arm, beginning to lead him to the barracks, “Get some rest, guys. I got the captain.”

Rex was silent on your small journey to his quarters. He maintained his blank expression, looking calm to an outsider. Those who didn’t know him would think he was handling the situation well. 

But you knew him. He was finally collapsing. 

He’s been awake since landing on Umbara. While everyone else could rest, eat and sleep, he had been working. The captain, as determined and hardworking as he was, was still a human with limits. He was coming out of a several rotation long fight-or-flight episode, and his internal systems were most likely shot. 

Not to mention shock. From death. The betrayal. The trauma. 

Luckily, no one paid you two any mind as your steps lead you to the barracks. Quickly and silently, you opened the door and led Rex inside his small private room. Hopefully with some actual sleep he would come back to himself. 

You’d have to shift your services, you realized. Your focus would need to be on the mental well being of the soldiers. You do have training in psychological health, but you’d have to catch up on the latest research, speak with colleagues, maybe shadow a therapist or two…

That was for the future. Right now, your priority was the clone in front of you. 

“Rex…” You whispered his name, raising your hands to hold his face, “You’ve done everything you can to take care of your brothers. Now let me take care of you.” 

Recognition was in his eyes. He nodded, turning his face to kiss your palm, “I am yours, cyare.” he mumbled lowly. 

The captain would rarely allow himself to be vulnerable. He would always be strong and reliable, never let himself seem weak. Rex was someone who would break rather than bend.

Unless it came to you. 

He gave you his heart. He trusted you with even the darkest most vulnerable parts of his mind and soul. 

You refused to break him.

You took his helmet from his hands and gently placed it on the desk before you began to remove his armor. You started with his arms and chest, slipping the painted and scratched plastoid off his body with ease. 

It didn’t take long for you to have him in his blacks. You looked up at his face meeting his beautiful brown eyes. 

Glossy with tears.

“Oh Rex’ika…” you held his face again, using your thumbs to wipe his tears, “It's over now…”

“My brothers…” He whispered, “So many of my brothers…” His shaky hands were placed over yours. 

“I know…” you responded, pulling him to kiss his forehead, “I know, Rex’ika…” Your arms wrapped around him tightly. You stepped backwards, knees hitting the bed, getting him on the stiff mattress. 

He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder. You felt the warm wetness of his tears he refused to show anyone else.

You held him, as tightly and as protectively as you could, letting him weep. 

“I got you, love.” you whispered, rocking ever so slightly to calm him, “I got you, Rex.” 

The darkness on Umbara had changed him.  But he wasn’t alone. You’d make sure of that.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Hope no one minds if I drop an angst prompt here?

So I was rereading the three pieces where Genesis realizes Angeal & Sephiroth think his voice is annoying and shuts down emotionally and tries to change his entire self bc the realization hurts him so bad, and Zack becomes basically the only person he feels safe around, right

And I got to thinking.

Idk where I first read it, but a lot of stories seem to paint Genesis as being generally quite liked by SOLDIER. So in this whole situation, where somehow only Zack picks up on Genesis’ pain, I think at least a few other 2nd/3rd classes also seem to notice, and Kunsel makes the connection between Genesis’ shutdown and his extremely changed behaviour around Angeal and Sephiroth, and consults with Zack for answers… and then discreetly lets the rest of SOLDIER know and they all close ranks around Genesis and like. Shield him from Sephiroth & Angeal a little

Like… I’m not that much a sucker for angst on most days but this image wouldn’t leave me… where instead of telling his superiors off in that discussion Zack bites his tongue and closes off from them too, and Angeal and Sephiroth have to figure out from themselves just why their whole department seems to have gotten so much colder with them recently, and why Genesis seems quieter and less around, and why Zack isn’t so bouncy anymore… more clipped and unhappy… and seems to get angrier with them everytime Angeal tries to help.

(Because damn, apparently Zack’s mood is his top concern, a kid he’s known for maybe a couple of years at most now, meanwhile his childhood friend that he grew up with doesn’t seem to rate with the same priority despite the frankly obvious pain.)

Meanwhile Genesis finds himself with a lot more company from the seconds and thirds than he’s had before, and discovers that more than a few of them like mystery novels just like he does, and a couple even know LOVELESS with the same love as him, and hey! This young man has read the same novel Genesis just finished, wasn’t that twist at the end a surprise? And slowly mealtimes kinda evolve into a SOLDIER book club (slash Secret Genesis Support Group) as Genesis slowly mellows out and finds his spark again, surrounded by like-minded individuals who not only respect him but seem to actually like him.

It’s nice. Genesis… is less lonely these days.

Are there three parts to it? I can only find Part 1 and Part 2. I swear I need to re-write it chronologically and post it as a proper fic someday. I'm surprised people bring it up from time to time ^^

-

Angeal sensed that something was off first, not because of the sharp glances that sliced past him like knives as he walked through the base. He wasn't oblivious to the silent hostility that clung to the atmosphere at SOLDIER—operatives who once greeted him with cheery waves, who he made it a point to befriend, were now avoiding eye contact, offering cold shoulders.

It was subtle at first, a missed "good morning" here, averted gazes there, but Angeal had prided himself on his keen awareness of the people around him. He valued camaraderie, not just with his fellow SOLDIERs but with anyone who kept the place running. He'd spent years building alliances, and now those connections seemed to be fraying, and he couldn't put his finger on why.

It wasn't even Genesis' absence that made him question things, although Gaia knew his best friend was tempestuous. Genesis had a way of shutting people out when the mood struck him, sometimes for hours at a time, but never like this. One day, they'd be sparring partners, the next, Genesis would disappear into his head.

But that wasn't the case this time.

No, what truly made Angeal's blood run cold was seeing Zack and Genesis together in the lounge. Shoulder to shoulder, laughing. Talking. Giggling, even. As though they were old friends. Which they weren't.

The sight was jarring, uncanny in a way Angeal couldn't immediately put into words. He knew Genesis' thoughts on Zack, had heard them whispered in passing, dripping with disdain. To Genesis, Zack was no more than a puppy—an overeager, naive child, a burden Angeal had taken under his wing. Genesis had always mocked the younger SOLDIER, never failing to throw a cutting remark his way whenever the boy's chipper greetings came his way. Yet here they were, sharing a closeness that felt….natural, which made it unnatural in its own sense.

And then there was Sephiroth, whose realization came like a slap to the face—almost literally. He passed Zack in the hallway.

Sephiroth had never been one for small talk, but always recognized Angeal's student with a curt nod, even mustering a slight smile. He expected, at the very least, a polite return gesture. But Zack rolled his eyes and turned away, as though Sephiroth wasn't even worth acknowledging.

Sephiroth had actually stopped mid-stride, confused. Had he done something to offend Zack? Was there something he had missed? For a moment he just stood there, watching Zack's back as he walked away, the sting of rejection unfamiliar and unwelcome.

It was more than just a bad mood. It was more than just Genesis going through one of his bouts of creative isolation. Sephiroth and Angeal shared that same coiling dread in their stomachs, that sense of something being broken and irreparable. They'd tried reaching out—both of them. They had knocked on Genesis' door, called his phone, but every time they got close, something, someone intervened. A Second, or even a Third Class SOLDIER, would always swoop in, whisking Genesis away before they could speak.

And the numbers… Gaia, the numbers. The Seconds and Thirds came in packs now, always flanking Genesis wherever he went. Always three or five of them, hanging on his every word, giving him attention, wanting his attention.

The popularity which had already been impressive seemed to have ballooned overnight. He was adored. While Angeal and Sephiroth were left untouched and unwelcome.

They'd never cared much for being liked, and neither of them needed the validation of the ranks. But it wasn't about that. It was about the absence, the hollow space Genesis had once filled between them. His voice was now missing from their lives—his laughter, the dramatic readings of Loveless, the playful teasing about Angeal's choice of shirts or Sephiroth's ridiculous wet hair after the showers. He was their friend, their third piece, and now he was gone.

And then came the breaking point. Zack refused to train with Angeal, refused to even follow orders from Sephiroth. That was when they cornered Kunsel, one of the few who never failed to have an ear to the ground, always knew what was going on and would never refuse intel.

But the answer they received wasn't what they were expecting.

"Why do you care?" Kunsel had asked, voice casual, like it was the most ridiculous question in the world. "Don't you find him annoying?"

It hit Angeal and Sephiroth like a slap to the face they needed.