#they cared about each other so much to the point it turned to hatred. loop cares but is so so angry that stardust made the same mistak

[aappleslice]

THEY DON'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO

[caretaker-au]

CHAPTER 10

Bright light spilled into Chara’s vision as the world manifested around them. Their body—heavy and fragile—struggled and dropped them to their knees.

As they fell forward Chara caught themselves with their hands. They stared out at their small, feeble fingers that were splayed on the lavender colored floor, each digit tipped with a dull, flat fingernail. Where were they? And what was that awful pounding sensation? They pulled a hand to their chest. That’s right. Their heart. No longer made from monster magic, Chara’s human flesh felt comparatively sluggish and dense. The body they were never supposed to return to. Chara crossed their arms and gripped themself tight. Fierce emotion flooded through their body: a touch of grief for their own death, relief for their survival, and most of all, rage.

“Asriel…” they breathed, their voice a shaking whisper, “How could you?”

After everything they had done, after all that they sacrificed for him, Asriel had betrayed them. Again. As he always had. It didn’t matter how hard Chara worked or how many timelines they chased, their wretched partner threw away everything they had to protect accursed humans. This time was the worst, however. Asriel’s betrayal ended in orchestrating a shared execution.

“You really hate me that much?” Chara’s voice was little more than a shaking growl. They wanted to scream, to declare that they wouldn’t allow it, that they would find someone else who would respect them and carry out their plan. But they didn’t believe it.

“Chara?”

A small voice broke through the fury. Chara looked up and saw them. A child hesitating in a stone doorway just ahead of them: Frisk.

The child’s expression relaxed into a smile, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Anger flashed across Chara’s face. They pulled themselves to their feet, wavering slightly. They staggered towards Frisk with heavy steps, increasing their speed into a run. Frisk’s eyes widened for a moment before they scowled. The child braced themself and held out their arms, “Chara, stop!”

The caretaker grabbed Frisk by the collar and wrenched them up against the doorframe. The kid’s teeth chattered as their skull thudded against the stone behind them.

“Why?!” Chara barked, hatred seeping from their every pore, “You took everything from us! Our lives, our future, the salvation of all monsters!” Frisk turned their head away, clenching their eyes tight as Chara berated them. “Nothing was stopping you from leaving. So why?” Chara demanded, “Why did you return? To mock me? To torment me?”

“No…” Frisk answered quietly, “To save you.”

Their answer didn’t make any sense. Chara stared back, unable to even articulate a response. Instead, they slammed Frisk against the wall again. “Liar!” Chara cried out, “You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth!” Frisk squirmed and pulled on Chara’s hands to no avail, “Escape isn’t worth anyone’s life. Not even yours, Chara!”

Chara’s fists clenched tighter around the slack of Frisk’s sweater. With a heave, they tossed the child to the side. Frisk splayed across the floor with a grunt.

“You are wrong,” Chara huffed, “And you… are a fool. Did you not learn the first time? I don’t care about your mercy.”

Frisk pulled themself to their feet. They straightened and returned Chara’s frenzied glare with a quiet gaze.

Chara continued, “I will not stop. This time I’ll take the souls, ignore you, and escape to the Surface. There, Asriel and I… we’ll…” Chara trailed off as Asriel’s face crossed their mind again. They sank to the floor, the air feeling heavier and heavier. “That traitor… he will never… he will never cooperate.”

The realization was like a knife twisting in their gut. Even with his betrayal, Asriel was always the most devoted. No one would be able to replace him. Despair crept into their heart as Chara realized they needed him more than Asriel needed them back. Chara had considered Frisk their greatest opponent, but it was Asriel who truly stood in their way.

Chara’s vision swam, so they turned their head away from Frisk, their hair falling in front of their face. Knowing the human was seeing them like this made their skin crawl, and they wished the ground would swallow them up. As Chara spoke, they held their breath to keep their voice from shaking. “Leave.”

Frisk hesitated, surely coming up with a response. Mockery? Pity? Chara wouldn’t bear it.

“Out of my sight! Now!” Chara shouted; their roar made the air tremble. Frisk didn’t wait to be told again. The sound of scuffling footsteps faded from earshot, and soon Chara was alone in the silence once more.

Finally, Chara let the tears fall from their eyes. They were disgusted with the way their breath hitched and sobbed no matter how much they tried to stifle it. Asriel did this to them. Asriel would have to pay.

Chara indulged in several minutes of sickening self pity before they finally wiped their face. Looking around, it took Chara a moment before they registered just where they were. They were deep within the Ruins, just outside the chamber Frisk had fallen into. But that didn’t make sense. From Chara’s experience, time could only be turned back to the most recently fixed point. Frisk should have been returned to just before their battle, perhaps in the jail. Instead, here they were, back to the moment they first met. Was Frisk not confined to the same limits of time travel?

Chara shook their head. They couldn't think about this now. Only one thing mattered: Asriel’s punishment. Drawing the will to stand, Chara pushed themselves upright to follow the child.

In one way or another, Frisk had made it past all the traps, through the house, and—presumably—out the exit. It was for the best; Chara couldn’t stand to cross paths with the child again. Inside the house, they paused to collect a large padlock they had stored in a table drawer. It was heavy and nearly the size of a text book with ornate designs engraved across it. The lock was imbued with abjuration magic, made specifically to lock the Ruins after Asriel was nearly killed by the human years ago. The lock would render any door unbreachable by human or monster, and Chara held the only key.

Chara carried the device with them into the basement, down the hall, and to the large exterior doors that lead to the snow draped forests beyond. The doors were slightly ajar, revealing a set of footprints that dotted the snow off into the distance.

Chara sighed, taking one last look at the snowy view, before pulling the doors shut. For decades, the lock had only been placed on the outside, removed only when Chara came through to patrol the ruins or escort monsters between Home and Snowdin. Today, for the first time, the doors would be locked from the inside with Chara within. They looped the padlock through the handles of the door, and when they snapped it into place, the doors shuddered and clamped together with a jolt. Chara traced a fingernail down the seam of the two doors. No one would be passing through without their permission.

Confronting Asriel directly was not an option. After all, any progress made with Asriel could be undone by Frisk. Not to mention they weren’t even sure what they could tell him. Asriel’s traitorous inclinations were buried deep into his core, waiting until Chara was at their most desperate to stab them in the back.

But there was one tactic that Frisk would be unable to interfere with. Silence. If Chara withdrew to the Ruins without a word, Asriel would surely blame himself for Chara’s sudden absence. Chara knew Asriel well: he’d beg for Chara’s return and apologize for things he didn’t do, all the while ignorant of his traitorous compulsions. Cruel, perhaps, but nothing was as cruel as what he had done in those erased timelines.

Chara checked their phone. They already had one message from Asriel inquiring as to when they’d return home. The caretaker marked it as read before slipping it back into their pocket.

---

As predicted, Asriel came to the door and stayed all night long. Knocking, calling, pleading-- Chara relished each pathetic attempt at reconciliation. He deserved to be confused, heartbroken, and alone, just as Chara was. Over the course of the day Chara received messages from Asgore, Toriel, and many other monsters. They all asked the same thing: Are you okay? Do you want to talk? We found this human named Frisk, do you know them? Even Muffet demanded an explanation. Chara would have to deal with her later.

Leaving everyone wondering and begging for answers was the only power Chara had left. Word was getting to the monsters in Home as well, evidenced by the additional messages piling up on their phone. Chara ignored them too. Eventually they would realize they were trapped on this side of the door as well, unwilling hostages in Chara’s scheme.

No matter. The monsters deserved to be trapped. Every one of them was just like Asriel: eager to please and sentimental to a fault. Chara had devoted their entire life to serving them and in return they never offered to help collect the souls that would free them. In fact, Chara had to resort to time travel to push them in the right direction for just an ounce of support. They all deserve to rot in this dark, claustrophobic hell.

---

“So you just let a human walk on by?” Muffet inquired in a sing-song voice, “That doesn’t seem much like the great caretaker at all!”

The two of them were sitting in her parlor, each on a lavish chair. A full tea set complete with baked goods sat on a low table between them, though Chara knew better than to partake in it. Spider legs stuck out of the scones like coarse hairs, and they couldn’t even imagine what the tea had been steeped with.

“Yes. Well.” Chara said, looking down at their lap, “There is not much I can do about it now.”

“Oh yes, I imagine the sweet thing is the new royal favorite, aren’t they?” Muffet’s fanged smile turned up in a mocking grin, “The queen has always had a soft spot for filthy little strays. You know that better than anyone, right, dearie?”

Chara bit back a retort. With time no longer under their control, they had to be careful while inside of her lair. It had been a week since they sealed the Ruins, and Muffet was the only person they had spoken to since. The crime lord wasn’t their first choice of confidant, of course, but she had been insisting on meeting and they knew better than to reject her invitation.

“I suppose so,” they responded softly.

Muffet giggled to herself, then suddenly reached for the plate of cookies between them. It was only after she grabbed a couple treats that Chara realized they had flinched when she moved. They tried to relax but the attempt only made them more tense.

“So, is that why you locked the exit? Had a bit of a falling out with the in-laws?”

“Something like that.” Chara frowned, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh of course, a lady like me wouldn’t dream of indulging in distasteful gossip! Instead, I have a business proposition~”

Chara straightened. In their current circumstance, they didn’t have much in the way of influence or leverage.

“How can I be of service?” they asked.

“I want to relocate,” Muffet paused to bite into one of her cookies. It sounded... crunchy. “You see, the Ruins are awfully drafty, and the cold isn’t good for my constitution. I was thinking about moving in the next year or so, but now that you’ve so... graciously sealed us all in here, I predict the traffic in my shop will be slowing down considerably.”

“Understood.” Chara nodded, “I will make an exception for you and open the d—”

“I wasn’t finished, Chara.” Muffet said, her voice lowering. There was a tense pause before she smiled again, “I want a limousine~”

“A—A what?” Chara asked, incredulous.

“A heated limousine that will chauffer my employees and I all the way to Hotland,” she gestured to the spiders that skittered between the tea cups, “A necessary luxury to ensure we make it safely through the biting cold of Snowdin. Should be a simple task for a monarch, correct?”

“Of course. Leave it to me.” Chara smiled, “Is that all?”

“Not much for business, are you, Chara?” Muffet smirked, “This is where you negotiate the terms of the agreement~”

“No need. I am happy to do this as a gesture of goodwill.” Chara outstretched their hand—it wasn’t trembling anymore, thankfully—and Muffet gave it a dainty shake.

Once Chara was safely out of Muffet’s lair, they heaved a sigh of relief. Somehow they had managed to leave in one piece despite Muffet’s attempts to bait them. Now they just had to figure out how to serve her outrageous demands. Chara fished their phone out of their pocket, dismissed several dozen missed calls and text notifications, and opened their address book. They were going to need to call in some discreet favors.

---

One month had passed since they sealed the Ruins. It wasn’t easy, but Chara managed to arrange for Muffet’s departure without alerting the Dreemurrs. Eventually, the royals found out the Ruins door had been briefly opened which led to a fresh barrage of calls, messages, and knocking on the resealed door, all of which Chara ignored, of course.

Chara walked the streets of Home late at night, the crystals in the ceiling sparkling above. They could feel the eyes of the monsters on them, but after weeks of Chara ignoring and scowling in return, the monsters had given up on approaching them. Wordlessly, they did their weekly shopping at the local market. As a member of the royal family, Chara had never needed to pay for any necessities, and it seemed the benefits even extended here. It was only fair compensation, of course. After all, Chara was still serving the undeserving monsters by patrolling the Ruins every day for human threats.

---

“Ugh, really?” Chara muttered. They were nearly done with their patrol, having reached the large trap of spikes that was circled with a moat. Chara pushed down on the edge of the spike panel’s pressure plate with their foot, but the spikes failed to retract completely, the deadly points standing out by a few inches. It wasn’t a good sign: the springs inside were starting to give out. And if the springs snapped while Chara was standing above it…

Chara shuddered. They had witnessed that messy result and they didn’t care to experience it first hand. Typically, Chara would order replacement parts and perform maintenance themself, but the machinist that created the pieces was in New Home. Unsealing the door again was out of the question.

“Of course this would happen now,” Chara grumbled. They moved their foot off the plate and the spikes shot back into place. How many more compressions would it tolerate before it broke? Before Frisk came to the Underground, Chara could risk it and undo any unpleasant accidents, but if the past five months were any indication, Frisk was not nearly as eager to manipulate time. In fact, time had been rolled back only two times since Chara let the child go.

It was inconceivable. How could Frisk resist the urge to erase the inevitable little mistakes that ruined every day? Embarrassing moments, broken tea cups, scraped knees… all could be fixed in an instant with the right application of their power. To have such power and yet choose to carry the weight of their failures—it defied reason.

More importantly, if Chara suffered a tragic accident while isolated here, no one would come to their rescue… whether through time manipulation or otherwise.

“Unfortunate.” Chara said to themself with a resigned sigh, “I will have to dismantle them. All of them.” They turned around and headed back home. While they didn’t have access to their machinist anymore, they did have a few hand tools and plenty of time.

---

Eight months had passed since Chara had let Frisk go. As they walked the path of the now defanged Ruins, they revised and repeated their old plan over and over. If they could just get one more soul to replace Frisk, they would have the seven required to break the barrier and purify the Surface. The only thing missing, of course, was a willing monster to absorb them.

They reached the end of their patrol: the entrance to the Underground for lost, unlucky humans. The chamber was empty, as it had been every day since Frisk fell in. Chara walked into the center of the room and stared up into the vacant darkness looming above. One hundred years had passed on the Surface and only eight humans had fallen in that time. How long would it take for another to arrive? Ten years? Thirty? Without the help of their powers Chara could very well die before seeing the next human soul.

Chara turned to leave, but did a double take as they glimpsed a glimmer of gold on the ground. They kneeled and pushed the grass aside to reveal a small yellow bud, barely beginning to open.

“It cannot be…” Chara breathed, “A Golden Flower?”

Golden Flowers were common on the Surface, but had no presence in the Underground. Chara was so sure of this that they had incorporated them into their original plan over 20 years ago. By requesting to see the wild flowers on their deathbed, Chara could ensure Asriel would cross the barrier with their corpse in tow.

Or at least, that was what should have happened.

Chara clenched their teeth at the bitter memory. It was the first of many perfect plans ruined by Asriel’s cowardice. The caretaker grasped the plant and ripped it out of the ground by the root.

Immediately, Chara felt a pang of regret. They stared down at the pathetic thing. Their favorite flower, somehow growing in this dark, sunless prison. When had it taken root? Did some seeds blow in from the Surface? Or were they brought in by a... passenger?

Chara shook their head. Regardless of how it was introduced to the Underground, it was now a part of the Ruins—their Ruins. It didn’t deserve to suffer for Asriel’s mistakes. Reflexively, Chara attempted to turn back time, but nothing happened.

With a sigh, they returned the flower to where it was and buried its roots back into the soil. The stem was bent and it wouldn’t stay upright, but weeds were resilient. With a little help, it might still make it.

---

Chara hesitated before their latest masterpiece, knife in hand. Resting on a serving plate was a beautiful, hand crafted chocolate ganache cake. Strawberries perched on top of the silky dark topping, and the intoxicating aroma filled the house. Somehow, even without their powers, it had turned out almost too perfect to eat.

Emphasis on "almost". Carefully, Chara slid the knife through the decadent construction and placed a slice on their plate. They paused to admire the moist cross section before sliding a fork through the end and taking a bite.

Absolute bliss.

"Not bad for a humble birthday cake," Chara said to themself. They were thirty-seven today. Chara looked across the dining table into the empty living room. The only sound was the fire crackling in the hearth, emitting heat for a one person abode. They wished this house wasn’t nearly identical to the one in New Home; the similarities made it too easy to imagine Toriel in her chair, Asgore in the kitchen, and Asriel leaning on the table with his elbows, big goofy grin on his face. The Dreemurrs loved birthdays, always spending weeks preparing for a large and lavish party.

This was the first birthday they had spent alone since they were thirteen. They had forgotten how miserable it could be.

Chara checked their phone. They had over one hundred notifications that had come in just today. They scrolled through to find the only contact that mattered: Asriel.

“Happy birthday, Chara!!” the message read, “Mom and Dad and I are thinking about you lots! We even got you a gift, so I hope we can give it to you one day! Wherever you are, take good care of yourself, okay?” A line of party and heart related emojis followed.

Chara read the message over and over. Asriel’s texts would always fill them with disgust and hatred, but not today. Instead Chara just felt… lonely. It was a pathetic, shameful feeling, but a true feeling nonetheless. Despite all the ways Asriel had disrespected them, Chara couldn’t hide from the fact that they missed him.

The caretaker allowed themself to vocalize a thought they had been pushing out of their mind for months. “Maybe…” Chara spoke, their soft voice breaking the quiet, “Maybe it is time to go home.”

They sighed, resigning themself. The eternal silent treatment was never a realistic plan, and while Asriel was the intended subject of the punishment, it was unpleasant to Chara, too. Scrolling up through his messages, Asriel had sent hundreds upon hundreds over the past year begging them to “just talk”. All had gone unanswered. The confusion and desperation in those messages were clear; he was perfectly primed for a reconciliation.

But Chara wanted more than reconciliation. More important than companionship was freedom. Freedom not just for undeserving monsters, but most importantly, freedom for themself.

“There is still a way,” Chara muttered to themself, “I simply… pushed Asriel too quickly. Asriel always responded better to a softer approach.” Chara stood, pacing.

“We will delay soul fusion until the end of my natural life. Nothing barbaric or tragic. My dying wish will be to live on within him. He cannot turn down my final request.”

Chara nodded, they could see it now. After a few decades, Chara would peacefully pass from their old, frail body into Asriel’s strong, youthful one, a benefit of his species’ long life span.

“Then we gather the rest of the souls. But not right away. Asriel will need some time to adjust to sharing a vessel with me. But he will with time. Perhaps even the child can be convinced to willingly donate their soul to the cause.” Even though Frisk wouldn’t be a child anymore, it was hard to imagine Frisk as anything but a meddling brat. Honestly, they’d probably still be a brat in thirty years.

“If not, that is... fine. The child can be suffered to live.” The decision was a reluctant one, but giving mercy to such an undeserving creature gave Chara a pleasant feeling of self-righteousness. After all, it didn’t really matter if Frisk lived or died. The important thing was purifying the Surface and breaking the barrier. One human would not make a difference.

“Yes. This will work.” A smile crept onto Chara’s face and their heart thrummed with excitement. They would return to Asriel, who would embrace them with utmost relief and joy. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and Asriel had shown no signs of giving up on them.

Chara would enjoy a long life in the company of their loved ones until the day they would embrace their prophesied purpose as the Underground’s savior.

It would require patience, but their splendid utopia was once again within reach. They began planning their grand return.

chapter 10 // end

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[mrs-gucci]

Rough Around the Edges {Prince Kylo Ren x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! taking a quick break from all the fourth of july stuff to submit this piece for this week’s writer wednesday :) thanks @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape​ for organizing this wonderful weekly event!

this story takes place in a medieval AU and is lightly inspired by certain elements in “Beauty and the Beast”.

warnings: angst with a hopeful ending. partially unreciprocated feelings. arranged courtship. time period-authentic sexism (women are meant to please men and that’s all). there’s a kiss.

(possible) tw’s: arranged relationship. implied age gap (not specified, but everyone’s above age).

word count: a touch over 2k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman​ @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee​​ @pascalisfairyy​​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

You sit in front of the mirror while Anna pulls your hair into a flattering updo. Your eyes begin to tear up at the painful sting of your hair being manipulated in such a forceful way, scalp throbbing with each of Anna’s harsh, calculated movements.

"Must you be so rough?”

She offers little empathy in her expression as she looks at you through the mirror’s reflection. “The Prince insisted that you wear your hair up tonight, madame. He was absolutely furious when you wore it down the last time, and I’m the one who had to stand there while he threw a tantrum over it.”

Your eyes roll, knowing all too well of your betrothed’s legendary fits of anger. He’s much too old to be doing such childish things, but god forbid you ever say that to him.

Anna finishes up with your hair, much to your relief, but now the real pain begins. You look over at the corset waiting on the bed and already, your ribcage aches.

“What, are you trying to turn it to stone?” She asks, and you shake your head. “Well, you’re certainly staring at it long enough. Come on now, stand up, we don’t have all afternoon.”

You sigh, rising up out of the chair and walking over to the bed where Anna’s standing, corset in-hand. She wraps it around your torso, pulling the laces impossibly tight over your ribs and stomach, caging them both within the garment. 

After the corset is very securely tied, Anna grabs your dress and helps you step into the golden yellow skirt. She ties the top part with just as much aggression as she tied the corset, making simply breathing a painful process.

“Try to at least look like you don’t want to jump out of the East tower’s window.” Anna remarks as you scowl at your reflection in the mirror. “Have you ever considered smiling?”

“I have absolutely nothing to smile about.” You reply curtly, unamused by this conversation or her suggestions.

She sighs in defeat. “I’m only trying to help, madame. You need to learn how to be a princess, or at least try and act the part.”

“I’m not interested in being a princess, Anna. But, if you ever asked my opinion on the matter, then you’d already know that. Now please, I wish to be alone.”

Anna’s surprised at the hostile tone of your words, but she keeps her lips pursed, knowing she’s in no place to press the issue any further. She simply nods, backing out of the room, leaving you alone.

Your bottom lip begins to tremble as your vision blurs with tears, abruptly turning away from the mirror so that you don’t have to look at what you’ve been forced to become.

There’s nothing that you wish for more than to be free from this life, free to live the way you want to live instead of the one that was chosen for you to live. You loathe the mask you must wear, the painted face that looks back at you through the mirror.

But, you have no choice...you’ve never had a choice.

-

The palace is aglow this evening, thousands of candles burning and casting a warmer shade across the normally-bland ivory color. Your shoes clink on the marble flooring as you make your way to the front steps, looking over the railing at the grand room below.

Lords and ladies, princes and princesses are all arm-in-arm, walking through to the ballroom. Some have stopped to converse with each other, fake smiles plastered on their painted faces. 

You huff to yourself as you reach the top of the staircase, and at the bottom, stands your betrothed. He looks up as you make your way down the stairs, a pleased smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with each step you take.

Kylo holds his hand out to you when you reach the bottom, guiding you down the final stair before looping his arm through yours. The two of you walk towards the ballroom, smiling and nodding politely at the other guests.

“You look nice.” His voice is flat, emotionless.

You huff in false amusement, physically having to prevent your eyes from rolling. “Am I supposed to thank you for saying that?”

"Ah, you’re learning.” He says, stopping to look down at you, fingers holding your chin and forcing you to look up at him while his eyes linger over your face. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little dove.”

You yank your chin from his grip, snarling softly. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand suddenly comes up to wrap around your throat, teeth bared. “I can touch you however I please, young one. You’re mine, and you ought to learn your place.”

Once he feels you relax, feels you surrender under his touch, he lets go of your neck and continues walking as if nothing’s happened, dragging you along with him.

He wears you on his arm the whole evening as he talks to various noblemen and you just stand there, silent with a small smile, pretending like you don’t exist. 

Then, the two of you take a seat at the big table with King Han and Queen Leia, beginning to feast on the royal spread. You barely eat, partially due to the fact that you’re afraid to bust the ties on your corset if your abdomen expands even a little bit too far, and Kylo seems to take notice.

“I promise I didn’t poison it.”

You look over at him with widened eyes. He simply smirks, laughing softly to himself.

“I’m only joking, little dove.”

You’re incredibly surprised, stunned into utter silence at the fact that he’s just joked with you. You'd been convinced up until this point that humor wasn’t a part of his emotional capabilities, that he was only capable of anger, hatred, and inflicting fear. 

His hand hesitantly rests on top of yours, which makes you flinch. He looks conflicted in the moment, as if he’s deciding whether or not to be upset that you react this way to his touch.

“Why aren’t you eating? You need to eat.”

You look away, jaw clenching. “I know you don’t actually care why I’m not eating, Kylo. Plus, none of my answers will be good enough to please you, anyway.”

He stiffens, pulling his hand away immediately.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the tone of his voice. He almost sounds...upset. Not upset at you, though, upset at himself. 

The rest of the time he’s silent, only glancing over at you occasionally. Dessert comes around and you don’t even touch it, simply sitting up straight with your hands in your lap.

Couples rise from their tables as the musicians begin to play an upbeat tempo, gathering on the ballroom floor. Kylo stands up next to you, holding out his hand without a word.

You rise from your chair and take his extended hand, allowing him to lead you out to the ballroom floor. Dancing was customary in Alderaan and was a very popular practice at gathering’s like this. 

Kylo’s large hands drop to your waist as soon as you reach the floor and you reach up to rest your hands on his broad shoulders. The two of you sway in unison and make your way around the dance floor skillfully, gracefully. 

After the song comes to an end and another slower one begins, the Prince tilts his head down to look at you. His face is stoic, unchanging, but there’s something different about this look. It’s not as harsh or as emotionless as it normally is; there’s a certain gentleness to it.

Your eyes keep his gaze, looking back up at him with a curious glint in your eyes, drinking in his up-close appearance for truly the first time since you’ve arrived in Alderaan. He’s intoxicatingly handsome, there’s no getting around that, but his personality and temper leave a lot to be desired.

Yet, despite his hostility and distaste for you, you still find yourself temporarily entranced by his presence, melting under his gaze. It’s in this moment that you catch a glimpse into your own psyche, recognizing the true source of your vehement hate and closed-off behavior towards him. 

All of it is done out of a desire to hide your attraction to the man that you’ve tried so, so hard to dislike. There’s always been a small part of you that’s known this, but you figured that if you pushed it down long enough and acted otherwise, perhaps you’d eventually convince yourself otherwise. But, alas, those feelings of attraction have only grown and festered beneath the facade of hatred.

It is true, Kylo Ren is a moody, closed-off, hostile and frankly childish being, but you’re somehow able to look past that and see the diamond-in-the-rough quality to the young Prince. You know that somewhere, behind the stone wall he’s so clearly built up around himself, there’s a goodness to him. You’ve seen glimpses of it throughout the time you’ve known him, but he almost immediately shuts it down instead of letting it show further, a fact you find incredibly perplexing.

“Y/N?” His voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You snap from your temporary trance and shake your head. “Sorry, I was deep in thought.”

“I gathered.” He chuckles softly. “If I asked what it is you were thinking about, would you tell me the truth?”

“Probably not.”

He nods. “I appreciate your honesty.”

The two of you continue to move around the floor before the handsome Prince clears his throat, cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink.

“May I ask you a question, completely unrelated to my previous inquiry?”

You nod, and he swallows harshly.

“What is it about me that you loathe so much?”

Your stomach drops and you suddenly feel a touch of lightheadedness begin to pressurize within your skull. You’re frozen for a moment as you try to decide whether or not to tell him the truth.

“I don’t...why are you asking me such a thing? I know you don’t actually care about the answer.”

His jaw clenches and his grip suddenly tightens on your hips. “Why do you always insist that I don’t care?”

“Because I know you don’t, Kylo. At least, not truly.” You reply, squirming beneath his grip.

“W-Well, what if...” He huffs, looking away. “What if I do care? Or am at least trying to care?”

You’re genuinely surprised by his words, taken aback for a moment. This is a turn you certainly didn’t see coming...

“I find your ever-changing moods and stubbornness often makes you difficult to deal with. You never try, at least up until this point, to understand my feelings or show any sort of interest in getting to know me, which just makes me feel even more unwanted than I already do, and I--”

Before you can continue, you’re cut off by a sudden presence on your lips. It registers in your mind, then, that he’s kissing you. You stiffen, and he pulls away slowly, eyes staring into yours.

“You are not unwanted, Y/N.” He says, voice low. “Never...p-please never think that.”

Did he just say ‘please’? That’s almost the most shocking thing he’s said thus far.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Kylo. Just...a little rough around the edges.”

His entire demeanor shifts for a moment, and for a split second, you swear he looks happy; truly, genuinely happy. Perhaps a bit of relief was sprinkled in, too. He wears a small, barely-there smile as he continues to look down at you.

“I would like to try and change. We should at least try to get along, considering the fact that we’ll be wed soon. I know you don’t want to be here, but I’d like to at least try to make things a bit easier, h-however I can.”

You can’t stop the smile that quickly spreads across your face, delightfully pleased to hear these words. Your expression widens his smile ever so slightly.

“I think we can certainly give it a try.”

Kylo nods, a subtly optimistic expression etched on his features.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

[curiosity-killed]

Lang Qianqiu deserves more love goddammit: a post, unfortunately

This brought to you by the wonderful @veliseraptor & @/yuer on Twitter but also mostly out of spite and the fact that it’s preventing me from writing a very dumb poke-the-bear post abt the entire weird social media culture around The Minors

As always ✨SPOILERS!! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE✨

So first off: when I hit the scene where lqq confronts xl and screams “I will never be like you” I sat up in bed, did a little shimmy of delight, and hissed “fuck yes” at like 2 AM so. Now you have a preview of wtf this train wreck will be

1 ) lqq is a good character

We don’t get a ton of time with lqq because tgcf is 87 side characters running across stage with The Most Interesting Concept constantly one-upping each other before vanishing. But what we do get is, I think, enough to make a pretty compelling story: Lang Qianqiu is a kind and generous prince who is also the sole survivor of the bloody massacre of his entire family, committed by the people dearest to him (both in his belief that Gusohi Fangxin did it and in the reality of An Le’s involvement), who goes on to peacefully lead his fractious nation into a peaceful reign before he ascends as a powerful enough (aka beloved and worshipped enough) god to be ranked among the top heavenly generals. That’s like. Pretty fucking classic protagonist vibes right there.

And, as usual with mxtx’s characters, we get a lot more than this lovely little backstory. In his interactions in canon, lqq is capable of great grief and anger; he is willing to sacrifice himself if it means avenging his murdered family; and he simultaneously holds both great hatred and great respect for his old teacher. And, of course, he winds up raising and taking care of his enemy’s son which shows a remarkable depth of compassion and emotional messiness that I find terribly compelling. He struggles with a simplistic view of justice that is supported by lies told to “protect” him and that is uprooted by the truth and forces him to try to make sense of the world without the guardrails that others installed around him (looking at you mister fangxin sir).

Also I’m stealing my own tweets bc I’m Right but:

*pulls up single barstool to lqq is a good character table* I think it’s interesting & Says Things abt the continued relationship btwn lqq & xl that lqq *didn’t* recognize xl, implying that he left fangxin’s mask in place even when he went to kill him

Like here is the man who killed his family & best friend, who left him abandoned in bloodshed on his 17th bday—& here is also the man who saved his life, who taught him, who lqq looked up to & wanted to be like

Even when lqq *does* recognize xl, he still has so much respect for him paired with that hatred that it’s honestly rlly tragic? Like man. There’s so much grief in lqq’s repeated demands for a duel & insisting it’s fine if xl kills him as long as he doesn’t hold back

*pats lqq pompom* this bb is so sad. And so much more like his teacher than either of them seem to realize or necessarily want

Despite being a pretty minor character, lqq gets a lot of complexity and nuance! Look at this child trying to be grown up while desperately turning to his old master for guidance and “the truth”! Look at him! Be sad!!

2 ) lqq is an excellent parallel to xl

Okay stealing my own tweet again don’t look at me I yell the same shit everywhere

Xl didn’t want lqq to become like him (self-sacrificing, vengeful, alone) but lqq not only became alone, chasing vengeance, & willing to sacrifice himself for revenge—he also became kind, open-minded, & remorseful!! & he still clearly respects xl @ novel end 🙃🙃

We all know hc’s “they’re not very alike at all” and yeah sure baby go support your man but narratively, there’s a lot of importance given to cycles, parallels, and foils in mxtx’s writing and most explicitly (compared to mdzs, haven’t read svss) in tgcf. For example, *gestures at beefleaf, gestures at Xianle Trio vs Wuyogn Crew, gestures at Xie Lian & Jun Wu’s whole uh. Deal.* And while I’d argue xl and lqq are part of a triumvirate rather than a pair, we’re not including mister three-face in this conversation so just looking at xl and lqq:

Both adored and sheltered crown princes

Both taught by a guoshi who was seeking to prevent the repetition of their own tragedies and in their efforts, lied/omitted information and failed to protect their charge from tragedy

Both were betrayed* by their closest friends

Both are the last living members of their respective royal families

Both caught the interest of supernatural beings from a young age

Etc etc I’m getting v bored and distracted writing this so moving on

Most importantly to me, we have their betrayal by a very close and adored mentor and how they react. The confrontation I mention at the start of this shitshow is really imo one of the most important scenes in the novel because it a) illustrates the differences in xl and Jun Wu and b) sort of gives you a preview of how xl ultimately wins

So a) Jun Wu and Xie Lian both take a talented, marked-for ascension young prince under their wing. Jun Wu sees himself in the boy and obsesses over shaping him into Jun Wu’s own image in the belief that this will make him the perfect heir. Jun Wu pushes his chosen heir into situations where Xie Lian is repeatedly harmed in an effort to show that the common people are fickle and cruel and don’t deserve his compassion and care.

Meanwhile, Xie Lian is reluctantly roped into mentoring his prince due to his inability to stand aside when he feels he could do something to prevent hurt or injustice befalling another (simultaneously his great strength and great weakness! God I love him). Xie Lian tries to teach his student to believe in and care for the common people and not to sacrifice himself (see: flashback convo re:taking the force of the sword strike into his own body).

When Xie Lian refuses to bend in the shape Jun Wu demands, Jun Wu bashes his head into the wall. When Lang Qianqiu cries “I will never be like you!”, Xie Lian laughs and says “Good!”.

B) this of course feeds directly into foreshadowing! Like Lang Qianqiu’s bold words, xl ultimately refuses to become like his mentor and remains defiant even when it would stop him from being hurt. Xl beats lqq and says so what if I tricked you, so what if I lied, I still won. Naturally, xl beats Jun Wu not through standard swordplay but by using a trick he learned while forced to busk and wander the earth alone and unlucky for centuries.

…okay so I have fully forgotten what I was actually saying here! Anyway!

Like Xie Lian, Lang Qianqiu spends a time consumed with the need for vengeance, hunting his enemy and rejecting the heavens. And like Xie Lian, he winds up caring for his enemy’s “son” and trying to both comfort him and maintain what’s left of Qi Rong’s life force despite having previously been hellbent on destroying him—bc he sees the impact it has on another person. In the end, he even gives a gift to Xie Lian—his mentor, his role model, and the one who killed his father—that was once given to him as a symbol of unexpected kindness. Sound familiar?

But, importantly, and contradictory to what I have been yelling abt but whatever it’s 12:30 am, Lang Qianqiu is not a direct mirror of Xie Lian but a closing of a vital loop in the story. Lqq is very similar to xl (I will die on this hill!! Only I won’t bc I’m stronger than y’all and will keep swinging these pots and pans) but bc xl tries to do better and keep lqq from suffering the way xl has, lqq is able to have a gentler and more optimistic path forward. He’s proof that even a small act of kindness or even kindness to only one person still matters and has a ripple effect that can’t be seen when you’re in the middle of it—a thread started with xl giving the coral pearl to Lang Ying and closed with Lang Qianqiu returning the pearl to Xie Lian.

So I have no idea if any of this is coherent or compelling but I meant to be asleep two hours ago and the points are:

A) Lang Qianqiu is good actually

B) parallels!!!

C) look ive already started another wip about Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian and I didn’t want this but no one else wrote it so now I have to so pls just accept this as a warning

*sort of air quotes around this for Xie Lian bc frankly Mu Qing was right & Xie Lian kicked feng xin out BUT on the other hand, it was experienced as a betrayal and we also again have all of Jun Wu’s shit so it evens out

[maibi]

All You Really Needed

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: contains a spoiler of one of the first few episodes.. the summary also contains that spoiler so be wary!!

Summary: after the death of Itadori Yuuji, Gojo finally let’s go of his strong posture and breaks down in front of you. (I suck at descriptions I know T_T)

A/N: I apologise for any mistakes,, this was not proofread plus I am sleep deprived 99% of the time so I have no clue what im writing lmao. Anyways ENJOY!

——————————————————————————

Gojo wasn’t one that opened up about his feelings or emotions, whereas you were the complete opposite of that. your days together were mostly filled with you rambling about your days teaching the first years at Kyoto Jujutsu High. You loved your students, but it was a tiring job to train them constantly. 

Gojo never seemed to complain about his work or students and he didn’t really seem to take his job seriously, yet he always pulled it off. He talked about his so called dream to change the jujutsu world when in reality that wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it was. Even for the strongest shaman, this is a job that was almost impossible to accomplish alone. But as much as Gojo had confidence in himself, you believed he’d get far. Because whatever he wants always comes his way. 

For example: you.

You and Gojo were actually classmates throughout high school, but nothing really happened between you back then. Being in a class of 4 didn’t really help with getting you two closer. It would be you and your friend and he with his. It wasn't rivalry or hatred, but rather a situation of seeing each other but ignoring each other’s presence. Your personalities just didn't match, or at least that’s what the both of you had convinced yourself to believe. 

It wasn't until both of you actually became teachers that you grew closer to each other and that’s also when you realized he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was. Yes he was quite the clown, but in reality he was a very caring person. 

The first years of your teaching career had been a constant loop of Gojo trying his best to get closer to you. His personality hadn’t changed much, but in whole  honesty there wasn’t much different in yours either. The only difference was, that the both of you had finally become adults.

You liked Gojo, but telling him that back then would be like giving in on his constant confessions that you rejected as if it was a daily routine. Sooner or later you gave in, not being able to resist him. He knew you would fall for him, because he always gets his way.

You had been together for a long while now and even though you didn’t actually live together it was as good as if he lived with you. Both of you had an own place to stay at, but given the circumstances you always were together. With the whole Yuuji situation the teachers and higher ups didn’t really have a choice but to be together constantly. Stuff had to be talked about and for Gojo his students’ safety was his number one priority. Even though yuuji had brought this all on himself, Gojo had no intentions of letting him die any time soon. If they let him, he wouldn’t even let him die. 

He always looked as if he was having the time of his life, but you knew him longer than today and sometimes his masked slipped. He didn’t deepen the conversation when you pointed it out, but he was already happy to have you by his side. He didn’t need words to comfort him, but even if he didn’t it felt as if you didn’t do much for him. You wanted to show him that you cared for him and that you would listen to him if he needed to vent.

He didn’t show, but the whole Yuuji situation messed with his head. The higher up scheming Yuuji’s death and Gojo constantly running behind his back to make sure Yuuji is safe. It tired him. He always said he was okey and gave you kiss on top of your head. It was a constant routine, but you noticed. You noticed how he’d fall asleep the second he arrived home and how he let his weight fall on you when you hugged him. You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want him to feel pressured. But you desperately hoped he would talk to you because the both of you knew that would be a big relief for him. 

You went home earlier than usual. The students had begged you for a day off, but just randomly giving them a break was not the best option in these hectic days. They had to train, they had to get stronger. So you made a deal. If they caught you, you’d give them free the rest of the day. Of course they failed, but you saw great accomplishments so you agreed on giving them free for the rest of the day. They were also tired, you could tell. But you didn’t want them to get hurt because you weren’t able to teach them properly. 

You sighed as you dropped your weight on the couch. You let your head fall back and looked at the ceiling. Your eyes darted to the clock on the wall. About an hour from now Gojo should be home. You could already tell how he’d be when he got home. His sleep deprived posture walking inside as he slumped on the bed. You felt bad to see him like that.

You were surprised to hear the door open and when you turned your head you say Gojo walking inside with his blindfolds in his hand. His hair was wet and he was supporting himself against the wall. You noticed this wasn't like normal, but before you could even walk up to him he had left to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. You knew it wasn’t directed you so you immediately knew something was wrong. 

You raised from the couch and made your way to the bedroom. You knocked once and walked inside. “Hey, Satoru”, you said silently. 

He was laying on his back on the bed, his feet touching the ground. You walked up to him and sat down next to him. You brushed your hand in his hair and felt water droplets collect on your hand, but you didn’t really care. He was breathing heavily and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. 

You didn’t was a word and kept your touch on his hair. He slowly rose from his laying position and rested his arms on his legs. His head was bent downwards and naturally your touch left his. You placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “Are you alright-”

And suddenly he dropped his head on your legs. You noticed that he was refusing to look at you. He was rejecting any kind of eye contact, just so you wouldn’t have to see his worn out face. He mumbled something, but you didn’t hear him. But before you could ask him to repeat himself, he spoke up again.

“Yuuji is-”, he said with a crack in his voice. “Yuuji is dead.”

You were shocked. Your heart dropped and you couldn’t even imagine how torn he must be feeling. He stood up and showed you his face. His eyes were red, he had been crying. 

You placed your hands on his face and a tear rolled down his cheek. You wiped it away, caressing the spot a few times. “He did his best, so much. He wanted to become stronger, but I failed him.”

“No you didn't and I'm sure he thinks the same. You were so good to him and you thought him many amazing things. I bet he was so proud to say that he had you as his mentor. He was a great kid”, you said in a whisper to calm him down. 

This was the first time he had shown any sign of vulnerability. You didn’t want to let him down and you wanted to show him that you cared. You wanted to show him that you were there for him, that you were willing to do anything in your power and beyond to help him.

“They killed him. They planned this, they schemed it so that he would die. They’ve been wanting him dead from the beginning and I swear I'm not gonna let them have this. I will destroy every single on of them and I will show them exactly how much of a mistake they made”, he said in a small voice.

“Hey, you did the best you could. And I have trust in you. I know you’re gonna make it and you’re gonna show them exactly how powerful you are. This won’t go unnoticed and we will make sure of that. Yuuji’s death will not be in vain”, you said.

You embraced him and pulled him flush against you. You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes as you squeezed him, as if he was about to fall from your grip and were to never return.

“We will get revenge”, you whispered as you felt his breath against your neck and felt the wetness of his tears create a damp spot on your shirt. “For Yuuji.”

You stayed like that for a while and you were almost convinced he was asleep. You slowly tried to wriggle the both of you in a laying position because you didn't want to wake him up, but his arm squeezing around your waist told you that he didn’t want to move just yet. 

He moved away from your grip but placed his hands on your cheeks. “Thank you for being here for me and thank you for always knowing how to deal with me.”

You gave him a small smile of reassurance. You placed your hand on his cheek once again and pulled him in for a kiss, a small brush on the lips. “I will do everything in my power to help you get through this. And I will use up every bit of energy to carry on Yuuji’s will. We will protect the students together and we will take revenge for the teenager’s death. And we’ll do it together.”

No other word were spoken that night. No words were needed that night. The both of you had understood and the both of you had agreed. It was the first time Gojo had openly showed his feelings and you were more than happy to receive those emotions with open arms. To show him just how much you cared for him. But in reality he already knew and he didn’t need you to comfort him alone to understand that. He was a person that looked out for the smallest details and you just being there next to him, was really all he needed. And him being there, next to you was all you really needed.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Star-Crossed

Summary: Virgil has known since he was little that some day he's supposed to meet his soulmate and fall in love with them.  You're supposed to date, then fall in love, and eventually ride off into the sunset to the sound of wedding bells and a happy life in front of you.  You're supposed to look forward to meeting your soulmate.  You're supposed to plan your life around them, because you're supposed to want to.

He's not sure what exactly you're supposed to do when someone else gets there first.

There’s a way these things work, Virgil knows.  Of course, everyone’s story is different, because people aren’t made with perfect cookie cutters.  But there’s a general way that these things work.  It involves meeting your soulmate, getting to know them, dating and falling in love, ending with a wedding at an appropriate age.  You’re supposed to be tailor made for each other, your love story written in the stars, to the point where communication is easy and problems aren’t hard to overcome.  Now, that’s of course not how it always works in real life, because people are complicated and problems can be just that.  But it’s supposed to be relatively easy to ride the wave to your happy ending, wedding bells and cheers and riding off into the sunset.

For most of his life, Virgil had craved that ease.  Relationships that didn’t come pre-packaged for success were hard, and he wasn’t very good at them.  It took him until eleventh grade to make any friends.  But even when he did, they were proof that soulmates made everything easier.

Roman, Patton, and Logan had the kind of soulmate story people dream about.  The three of them had been best friends since childhood and started dating in their early teens.  They’d had their general share of problems throughout the years, but overall they were good.  Their story made them popular too, and Virgil couldn’t imagine why they’d taken him under their wing, but here he was.

With popularity-by-association came pressure, though, and Virgil couldn’t name the number of times he’d panicked about what would happen if he didn’t live up to the soulmate story of his friends.  It was what they expected of him, in the way that they never said outright, but Virgil could tell they were thinking it.  He knew for a fact it’s what his parents expected of him, as unlike his friends, they had said it outright.  He wondered why exactly they felt the need to make that clear.  Did they know something?

Because in the end, that was the point, wasn’t it.  Nowhere in the general “way these things work”  did your soulmate story allow you to be here, in your crumbling backyard treehouse, wrapped in the arms of someone you love but shouldn’t as they kissed your damn brains out.

Virgil couldn’t give an exact name for what he and Janus were.  They weren’t quite dating, but they definitely weren’t just friends, if the way Janus’ hand was tangled up in his hair and pulling him closer had anything to say about it.  He did know that Janus made him feel alive, in a way he’d never quite gotten from anywhere else.  He wouldn’t trade Patton, Logan, and Roman for anything, but there were times the expectations they came with made him terrified.  His parents made him feel more trapped than anything else, though he didn’t think that’s what they intended.  But here, with Janus, he felt like the world could burn, and as long as he had Janus there with him, he would be perfectly content to just watch.

Virgil shifted enough to see the outside of the treehouse, and pulled his head up slightly.  “Janus,” he murmured.

“What, I’m busy,” Janus murmured back, shifting his lips on Virgil’s neck.  Virgil gasped and pulled in a breath.

“Janus,” he said again, though his voice sounded significantly higher than a second ago.  “The sun’s rising.”

“Oh, my, alert the media,” Janus said, moving up from his neck to capture Virgil’s lips again.

Virgil pulled back.  “You can’t keep kissing me to shut me up,” he said.

“But it works so well,” Janus crowed, leaning back in.

“Janus,” Virgil groaned, but wrapped his arms around him anyway, letting them both move back slowly onto the floor.

“You have to go, you know,” he murmured in a moment he pulled back to breathe.

“Mmm, I can’t convince you to stay just another half hour?”  He kissed the corner of Virgil’s mouth and Virgil held back a whine.

“You are very persuasive,” he muttered.

“Ah, one of the many reasons you love me,” Janus said, moving to the other corner of his mouth.

“I’ll love you less if we get caught out here,” Virgil said.  “You know how early my dad gets up.”

“Really?  Getting caught during one makeout session, that’s all it takes?”  He pulled Virgil up closer to him, wrapping his arms around his back.

“Janus,” Virgil said, pushing him backwards.  “It’s not about that and you know it.”

Janus sighed, dropping his head onto Virgil’s chest.  “You ruined it with seriousness, Virgil,” he whined.

“It’s going to be ruined with a lot more seriousness if you don’t go,” Virgil said, trying to ignore the way that Janus’ lips still looked so very tempting.

Janus had to have noticed his staring, because he smirked and leaned back in.  “Yes, and it seems like you want me to leave so much,” he whispered, right before connecting their lips yet again.

Virgil heard the soft click of a lightswitch, easy to hear with nothing else going on— well, with only one other thing going on.

Virgil pushed Janus back more firmly.  “Janus,” he said.  He looked over towards the house, where the kitchen light had just come on.

Janus sighed, and laid back down on top of Virgil.  “Curse your early bird of a father.”

“Yeah, he’s the worst,” Virgil said, only half joking.  “I’ll see you on Monday, alright?”

“How ever will I last,” Janus said with a smirk, leaning in one last time and kissing Virgil much more gently, the way he did goodbyes.

Virgil returned the kiss as Janus sat them both up, and pulled back a second later.  “Text me when you get home,” he said.

“I will,” Janus agreed, moving to climb down the treehouse ladder.  Virgil watched him go for a second before leaving himself, climbing across the tree branch that led through his open window.  He made it just in time to look out his window and spot Janus leaving through the gate towards his front yard.  He paused and looked up at Virgil first, giving him a sloppy salute as if saying “There, I did what you wanted.”  Then he turned and vanished into the early morning.

Virgil smiled to himself and sank down against his windowsill.  God, he loved that idiot.

He waited until he got a text half an hour later that Janus made it home before climbing into bed.  It would still be a while before he fell asleep, though, the buzzing feeling Janus left him with made him feel too alive for that.

Not for the first time, Virgil wished that the “way these things work” was something different.

…

“I’m just saying,” Roman said, his arm looped through Logan’s as the three of them walked to class.  “That if you’re going to give students an assignment over break you deserve nothing less than death.”

“Agreed,” Virgil said.

Logan shook his head at them both in disbelief.  “We are students,” he said.  “Our entire job is to learn.  If the teachers have assignments to grade over break, shouldn’t students have something to work on too?”

“No,” Roman said.  “It’s the teachers job to grade assignments.”

“Did you miss the part where I said learning is our job?”

“I don’t see myself getting paid for this shit,” Virgil muttered.  “And I don’t want to write a whole damn essay over break.  I don’t care if ‘learning is my job’ or whatever you think.  The whole point of a break is a vacation.”

“It’s just one essay,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow.  “You can get it done and still have a vacation.”

“Logan, your ‘I can write essays in an hour’ thing is kicking in again,” Roman said.  “It takes most people longer to write an essay than it takes you.”

Virgil didn’t catch Logan’s response, having instead caught Janus’ eyes on the side of the hallway.  Janus looked at him as he passed and smirked, giving Virgil just enough time to think about how absolutely gone he was for this boy before he passed behind them.

“Virgil?”

Virgil jerked around to face Roman.  “What?”

“Don’t you agree?”

Virgil blinked.  “Oh, yeah, absolutely.”

“See!” Roman exclaimed, spinning to Logan like that won the whole argument.  Virgil was happy to help.

They both continued the argument that Virgil had lost all interest in until they reached the lunchroom, where Patton was already sitting at their usual table.

Virgil pulled his phone out as he sat down, because if he’d passed Janus… yep.

 Janus: So how are the universe’s favorite love birds doing

 Virgil rolled his eyes.

 Virgil: You don’t always have to act like you hate them you know

Janus: Excuse you?  They are the worst.  I despise them and everything they stand for

Virgil: They also happen to be the only people who actually tried being my friends

Janus: Ugh

Janus: You and your hatred of loneliness

Virgil: If you want to talk to them they wouldn’t hate it you know

Janus: And surround myself with soulmate perfection stories all the time?  Please

 Virgil sighed.  They both knew he could see right through Janus.  While Virgil now had three close friends and gained the friendliness of everyone else by association, he remembered the things that you said when you didn’t have anyone and were trying to convince yourself you were okay with that.  “As if I want to surround myself with soulmate perfection all the time” was up near the top of the list.  Virgil had said it more than a couple times himself before he realized the soulmate perfection people were actually pretty nice.

“Hey, Virgil, whatcha looking at?”

…About most things.

“Nothing,” Virgil said, putting his phone back in his bag.  “Just making notes of assignment stuff.  Roman’s right, an essay assignment over break is BS.”

“Right?” Roman said, and started launching into his complaints.  Virgil sat back in relief and listened to him start to rant, rubbing his thumb over his phone case in his pocket.

He had other reasons to hate the essay assignment.  He and Janus had been planning what to do over spring break for months.  Janus had gotten his mother’s permission to take the car and go with a friend on a couple of day trips, so long as they didn’t like, leave the state or something.  Virgil had been looking forward to going somewhere fun with Janus, exploring the places Janus had picked out, finding places to be alone… maybe pretending to be soulmates.

Virgil looked down at the name on his wrist and sighed, wishing once again that it said something other than Ethan Baker.

Virgil went through the rest of the day trying to figure out a way to finish that essay before break.  He had a week, but he had other assignments due before break.  He could probably ask Logan for help, come to think of it.  He texted Logan after school as he was heading out to Roman’s car.  Logan stayed after most days to tutor.

 Virgil: Hey, could I maybe stay after Thursday to work on my essay with you

Logan: Sure, I don’t have any tutoring on Thursday.  Try and have an outline and an argument decided on by then, okay?

Virgil: Will do

 Virgil slipped his phone back into his pocket and glanced up as he approached Roman and Patton, who were standing outside Roman’s car waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he said as he ended up in front of them.  “Trying to figure out how to get an actual break.”

“Do you have a plan?” Roman asked, getting into the driver’s seat as Patton took the passenger and Virgil got into the back.

“Yeah, I’m meeting up with Logan on Thursday to write the essay.”

“Oh, can I join?”

“You should ask, but I’m sure he won’t mind,” Patton said.  “I need a treat.  Anyone else want ice cream?”

“Sign me up,” Roman said as he started to back up.  “Jenny’s?”

“Absolutely,” Virgil agreed.  Jenny’s was their favorite ice cream place.  He wanted to find a way to take Janus some day.

Patton texted Logan to meet them there when he was done with tutoring, and then they all headed there.

Virgil grabbed his notebook once they got there and started writing down ideas for his essay in between bites of ice cream.  By the time Logan got there, he had a couple ideas to narrow down, and he pulled out his phone to text Janus.

 Virgil: You don’t have any assignments over break, do you?

Janus: Fuck no.  What monsters do you have as teachers?

Virgil: Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it handled.  Just making sure you’re ready for our trips too

…

Turns out, Janus had quite a few good spots to go to, with different goals in mind.  They went to ice rinks, outlet malls with Hot Topic, and a state park all within the same week.  The park ended up being Virgil’s favorite.  It was filled with giant rocks that people were encouraged to climb on.  They found a high up rock tucked in between trees overlooking a river, and stayed there for hours appreciating the view, and appreciating… other things.  If anyone saw them, the names on their wrists were covered, and people were much more likely to assume they were soulmates than otherwise.

It was as they were getting into the car to leave the park that Virgil turned to Janus.  “Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t pretend we’re not dating anymore, can we?”

Janus huffed a laugh.  “I don’t think we can,” he said.  “Not really.”

“Should we talk about that?”

“What part of it?”

“You know what part, Jan.”

Janus sighed.  “No, Virgil,” he said.  “I’m not going to force you to tell everyone now just because we’ve admitted we’re dating.  Believe it or not, I like things as they are.”  He leaned over and kissed Virgil as if to make his point.  Virgil’s hands drifted to hold the sides of his face as he kissed him back.

“Hey,” Virgil murmured as Janus pulled away to breathe.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus replied easily, like he barely had to think about it, and Virgil pulled him closer as sparks lit inside his chest.  It was going to be awhile before they left the park.

…

“What about that hotel, we could stop there.”

“We are not stopping at a hotel, dumbass,” Virgil said, shoving Janus’ head from the side.  “These are supposed to be day trips.”

“Oh, Virgil, how could you deny me the chance to spend a night with you?” Janus asked, throwing a hand up to his forehead as if this was some huge betrayal.

“Don’t you have to be 18 to be able to buy a hotel room anyway?” Virgil pointed out, crossing his arms and smirking.

“Hmm.  Fair enough.  I know a motel a couple miles away, we could try that.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the same deal.”

“I have a fake ID in the glove box.”

“You what?” Virgil laughed, pulling open the glove box to see that Janus was right.  “Why are we going to a motel and not a hotel if you have a fake ID?”

“So what I’m hearing is we can go to a hotel!”

“Janus!” Virgil groaned, trying to stop smiling.

“What, it’s not like we have school again tomorrow.  We’re not needed anywhere.”

“Yes, well as technically true as that is, tomorrow is still the day we all meet up at Roman’s house to set up the pool and swim.”

All of the mirth faded instantly from Janus’ face.  “Oh.”

“Hey, what?” Virgil asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

“Nothing.  You’re allowed to have other friends,” Janus said, sounding sincere in that.

Virgil sighed.  “Except I never get to see you as is,” he muttered.  “Right?”

“Well… yes,” Janus admitted.

Virgil reached over and grabbed Janus’ hand on top of the steering wheel.  “Come with me, then.  I’ll ask them if you can come.  I’m sure they’ll say yes.”

“Oh?  And what will you say?  ‘Hey, are you three with your perfect fairy tale story ending cool with me bringing my boyfriend that isn’t my soulmate over to your house?”

“Well of course I wouldn’t say that,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.  “I’ll probably say you’re a friend I’ve met.”

Janus sighed and shook his head.

“Janus,” Virgil said, checking to make sure no other cars were around before pulling his hand onto the middle console.  “Come with me.  You can wear a swimsuit and look hot and make me wish I could come over and kiss your face off.”

Janus gave him a look, and Virgil could see his answer before he said it.

“Maybe another time, Virgil,” he said, pulling his hand away and putting it back on the wheel.

They made the rest of the trip home in silence, and after a while Virgil leaned on the window and fell asleep.

…

“LOGAN, LOOK OUT!” was all the warning that Logan got before Roman landed right on top of him and sent them both underwater.  Virgil started swimming over to them instantly, but both heads popped out of the water before he got there, though Logan was rubbing his and looked in pain.

“Do you never look before you leap into pools?” Logan asked, glaring at Roman.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Roman said, grabbing Logan’s head and starting to look it over.  “Here, I can kiss it better.”

“That is not how medical care works,” Logan said, as Roman kissed the area of his head he’d landed on.

“Oh for goodness sake, specs, I’m being sweet.” Roman said, continuing to look his head over.  “You look okay.  You want to get out for a minute?”

“I am alright.  I think a headache is forming after that, but I don’t feel I need medical attention.”

“Medical attention?  What happened?” Patton called, emerging from the house with a platter of various snacks.

“Roman was being the idiot he usually is and leapt right on top of Logan instead of just into the water,” Virgil said, swimming back over to lean against the side of the pool.

“Oh my goodness, are you two okay?” Patton said, setting the platter down and rushing over to the side of the pool.

“We’re alright, Patton,” Logan reassured, catching Patton’s hands before they could start fluttering over him in worry.  “Neither of us are seriously injured.”

“Good,” Patton muttered, kissing Logan quickly, and then moving on to do the same for Roman.  Virgil looked away, trying not to feel bitter.  He looked over at his phone, sitting over by his clothes, and debated going over to call Janus and make him get his ass over here.

He missed his boyfriend.  How had he gotten so used to seeing him every day so quickly?

The sound of people climbing out of the pool roused his attention, and Virgil saw Patton waving him over for the snacks he’d brought.  He pushed himself out of the pool and headed over to eat them, trying to push Janus out of his mind.

“You know, I heard there was going to be a new student coming to school after break is over,” Logan said.

“Ugh, of course you care about stuff like that,” Roman said, rolling his eyes and giving Logan an endeared smile.

“No, there was something about him.  His name sounded familiar, but I’m not sure why.”

“What’s his name?” Patton asked, popping a grape in his mouth.

“Um… Ethan, I think.  Ethan Baker.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold.  “What?”

Logan glanced over at him.  “What?”

“Oh my gosh, Logan!” Roman exclaimed.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  That’s Virgil’s soulmate, you dummy!”

Logan’s confused look cleared.  “Oh, that’s why it sounded familiar,” he said.  “Well, congratulations, Virgil.  Unless it’s a different Ethan Baker, it sounds like you might get to meet your soulmate soon.”

Virgil stood up suddenly and stumbled a few steps back.

“Virgil?” Patton asked, standing up and looking concerned again.  “Are you alright?”

“Um,” Virgil said, still moving backwards.  “I—”

Roman jumped up.  “Virgil, stop, you’re going to—”

The ground disappeared from under Virgil’s feet and his heart leapt into his throat a second before he hit the water, thankfully in a deep enough part of the pool that he didn’t hit his head on anything.

Maybe he could just stay down here and never have to face the reality that Logan just presented him with.

Unfortunately, a hand reached down into the water and pulled him upwards until he was above the surface and looking at Roman’s concerned face.

“Are you alright?” Roman asked, helping him out of the pool and sitting down next to him.

Virgil yanked his hand away and wrapped his arms around himself.  “Fine,” he muttered.  “I’m fine.  Everything’s fine.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, sitting on his other side.  “I get it.”

Virgil looked over at him.

“It’s okay,” Patton said, smiling.  “Of course meeting your soulmate is scary.  I was scared when I met Roman and Logan.”

“You were a kid,” Virgil pointed out.

“And?  You’re not allowed to be scared because you’re a little older than I was?  Virgil, it’s alright.  No one is going to blame you for being scared.  You don’t even have to meet him right away if you don’t want to.”

Something in Virgil’s chest lightened at the thought.  “I don’t?”

“Well, I wouldn’t conceal it from him,” Logan said, sitting down on the other side of Patton.  “You should tell him who you are.  But if you’re not ready for a relationship or even a friendship you can tell him that.”

“I can?” Virgil asked, as his heartbeat continued to slow.

“Oh, kiddo, of course,” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s hand and squeezing it.

“This is your soulmate, Virge,” Roman said, and Virgil glanced over at him.  “You’re matched up for a reason.  He’s going to understand if you’re not ready.  And even if things are bumpy, it’ll be alright eventually.  I mean just look at my parents.”

Virgil wasn’t sure what Roman’s parents had to do with anything.  Roman had two dads who seemed as in love as any other soulmates Virgil had ever seen.

“Just relax, Virgil,” Roman said with a smile, cutting off his thoughts.  “There’s no reason to freak out before you even meet the guy.  You don’t know what he’ll be like.  Just keep that in mind.”

Virgil leaned forward and rested his head on his knees.  “Okay,” he murmured.  “I’ll do that.”

“These things tend to work themselves out, kiddo,” Patton said.  “That’s what soulmates are all about.”

Virgil’s test tightened again.  That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.

…

“Okay, I got your frantic text,” Janus said, pulling himself up into the treehouse.  “What’s going on?  Why are we meeting tonight when school starts again tomorrow?”

Virgil was grateful in the moment that he must have looked outwardly anxious in his position of being tucked against the back wall with his arms around his knees, because otherwise Janus definitely would have made some kind of joke about him being just that irresistible.

“There’s a new student coming to school after the break,” Virgil said.  “Named Ethan Baker.”

Janus shut his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.  He clearly knew what that meant.  He moved across the treehouse and sat in front of Virgil.  “Okay.  What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean what do I want to do?” Virgil asked, staring at him.  “Janus, I want him not to come.”

“Yeah.  I figured.  But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s coming.  So what do you want to do?”

Virgil didn’t have an answer.  He didn’t want to think about it, or have to make this decision.  He didn’t want his parents to reject him.  He didn’t want Patton and Logan and Roman to hate him.  He didn’t want to go back to being alone and friendless, and especially not while dating someone who wasn’t his soulmate.  He’d be ostracized, and even when he was lonely, he hadn’t dealt with any level of vitriol.  But the issue was that, at the same time…

He wanted Janus.  He wanted this, stolen nights in a broken down treehouse and day trips over spring break and Janus’ wit and sarcasm and hatred for all things soulmates.  He just didn’t know if that want was strong enough to override all of the things that he didn’t want.

“I want…” he said after a moment.  “I want to meet him.  Who knows, maybe he’s an asshole who can fuck right off.”

“Maybe,” Janus said, in a tone that said ‘hopefully,’ but also in a way that meant he didn’t really believe that.

“Look,” Virgil said.  “What I want is to not decide anything before I meet him.  Let’s just do things like normal.  I’ll see you here on Friday.”

Janus looked at him for a moment, and nodded.  He turned as if about to leave, and suddenly Virgil wanted to scream at him to stop.  That would have been incredibly stupid, though, so instead he reached out and grabbed Janus’ arm.

Janus turned back to face him.

“What was that you said about wanting to spend a night with me?” Virgil asked, trying on a wobbly smile.

“I meant under different circumstances,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but…” Virgil tried to figure out a way to say Don’t leave me like this without using those exact words.

Janus seemed to read it in his face.  “Okay,” he said, and he turned back around, thank god.  “But I’m not sleeping in a treehouse.”

Virgil nodded.  “Follow me,” he said, and climbed back across the branch into his bedroom, showing Janus where to put his hands and feet.

Janus dropped quietly down into the bedroom after him, and suddenly soulmates were gone from his mind, and the only thing Virgil could think about was that Janus was in his room.

When was the last time he’d cleaned up again?

Janus was smiling as he looked around.  “Wow, Virgil, you’re a regular neat freak, aren’t you?”

“Shut uuuup,” Virgil groaned, shoving his shoulder and stepping over various items as he started towards his bed.  Janus followed, and toed off his shoes at the edge.

“Here,” Virgil said, taking a short detour to his dresser and handing Janus one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in.  He crawled into bed as Janus changed, and then joined him a minute later, wrapping his arms around his waist.  Virgil leaned back against him.

“I set an alarm so I’ll get up and leave,” Janus said.

“Okay,” Virgil murmured.  He was quiet for a minute.  “Hey Janus?”

“Hmm?”

“I still love you.”

“I love you too,” Janus whispered, kissing the top of Virgil’s head, which made Virgil feel warm in an entirely different way from how he felt after a makeout session.  He fell asleep still warm all over.

…

Virgil recognized Ethan by finding his name on his wrist, which really just felt like one more way for the universe to laugh at him.  But Logan was right.  He couldn’t just hide from Ethan the fact that he was his soulmate.  So instead, he walked up and tapped him on the shoulder, feeling like he was sealing his fate.

Which he supposed, in a way, he was.

Ethan turned with a slightly curious smile.  “Hello,” he said.

“Ethan Baker?”

Ethan nodded, looking more curious.

“Uh,” Virgil waved his wrist.  “I’m Virgil Storm.”

Ethan’s eyes widened.  “Oh.  Oh, my goodness!”

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered, trying to make his smile look happier than he felt.

“Well, hi!” Ethan said, starting to smile much wider.  “It’s so lovely to meet you, Virgil!  I never would have thought—”  The warning bell rang overhead.

“Oh, damn that thing,” Ethan muttered, looking up at it.  “I wish we had more time to talk.”

“What class do you have?” Virgil asked.

“Uh… Holden.  English.”

Virgil tried to smile wider.  “Well, I’ve got good news then.  That’s my class too.  Want to walk with me?”

“Oh, awesome!” Ethan said.  “Yes, please!  It’s so good to meet you!”

“You too,” Virgil said, falling into step beside Ethan as they started down the hallway.

Come on, Virgil.  Give the guy a chance.  Maybe this will all work out fine and he is an asshole.  Maybe he’s about to say something super dick-ish right now.  Here it comes.

Ethan beamed over at him.  “I should have known you’d be even more gorgeous than I pictured,” he said.

Goddammit.

…

Ethan wasn’t an asshole, by any stretch of the imagination.  Virgil really tried, he tried so hard to hate him.  It should be easy, he was an expert at hating people for no reason!  He tried twisting all of Ethan’s words and actions into the most despicable light he could manage.  But Ethan was just too damn sweet.

He was gentle and caring.  His smile could light up a room.  He got along perfectly with all of Virgil’s friends.  Virgil was pretty sure he tried harder than anything else he’d ever done in his life, but he just couldn’t hate him.  Why couldn’t he hate him?  Was this the universe fucking with him?  Was there some kind of genetic thing that kicked in that made people incapable of hating their soulmates?

Or was Ethan just that fucking nice?

Either way, Virgil couldn’t hate the guy.  He wanted to, but he couldn’t.  Maybe that was why he was hiding here.  Virgil looked up from the stage, glad at least that the auditorium was big as well as empty.

He just couldn’t go back to class, where everyone would be staring at him and Ethan like all of their future problems were solved now.  He buried his head in his knees.  He wanted to get out of here.

He didn’t register any kind of bell ringing, but one must have, because doors opened and people started coming in, and Virgil remembered that there were drama classes in the auditorium.  He jumped up and headed backstage, trying to control his now much worse breathing.  He’d be fine, he just had to last until everyone starting doing things and then he could—

“Virgil?”

Of course.  Of course he would be here.

“Hey,” Ethan said, coming backstage.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Virgil shook his head.  “No,” he choked out.  “No, I don’t want—”  He yanked his hood over his head and pulled hard on the strings until his face was obscured.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me.  Just come here, alright?  People are going to be coming back here soon.”

Virgil grabbed onto his hand when it was offered because he didn’t know what else to do, and they ended up in what looked like a prop area underneath the stage.

“Hey, breathe with me, okay?  I’m gonna count to four, try and breathe in.  It’s okay if you can’t make it all the way there.”

He started doing that, and waited so damn patiently until Virgil finally managed to calm down, and the whole time he didn’t make a single sudden move, and Virgil wished that he wanted him to leave.

When Virgil was breathing normally again, Ethan just smiled gently and leaned back.  He didn’t ask a damn thing about what happened.  He just said “You okay?” in a way that meant it would be totally fine if the answer was no.

Virgil took a shaky breath and nodded.  “Thank you,” he whispered, because Ethan was good at that, and he hadn’t met another person who knew how to do anything like this before he told them.

“Of course,” Ethan said with a nod.

“How did you know what to do?” Virgil asked.

“My little sister gets panic attacks sometimes.  I wanted to learn how to help her, so I did some research.”

Virgil nodded.  “Guess that’s lucky,” he muttered.  He looked up at Ethan.  “Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want from this?”

Ethan looked confused.  “From what?”

“Me.  What are you looking for?”

“Well, a soulmate,” Ethan said, like that should be obvious.  “I don’t want to start dating you if you’re not ready, of course, but eventually.  I— I like you, Virgil,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he started to blush.  “I’d love a relationship with you once you’re ready.”

What if I’m never ready, Virgil didn’t say.  He shut his eyes and leaned back against the wall behind him.

“Virgil,” Ethan said, and Virgil opened his eyes again.  “If you are not ready to date me, we don’t have to date yet.  Is that what you’re panicking about?”

“I… don’t know,” Virgil lied.

“I’m not going to rush you,” Ethan said, taking a small step forward.  “Or push you.  I want to move at a pace we’re both comfortable with, and if that means I have to wait, I’m okay with that.  For now, I would be more than happy to be your friend, Virgil Storm.”

Virgil looked back at his soulmate, with the universe stamp of approval.  It was the ‘for now’ part of that statement he was going to have issues with.  But then again, maybe for now… that would be fine.

…

Virgil’s entire body melted with relief when Janus appeared in the doorway of the treehouse.

“Janus,” he said, climbing up and moving across to meet him.  He started to pull Janus down into a kiss, only to be stopped by Janus pushing back a second later.

“Janus?”  He stopped moving when he noticed the look on Janus’ face.  “Janus, what’s wrong?”

“Virgil, we need to talk,” Janus said.

“Oh, hardly,” Virgil said, starting to smile.  “I have good news.  Ethan says we don’t have to date if I’m not ready.  And I’m not.  So…”  He leaned up to pull Janus down to him again.

Janus sighed and pushed him back.  “Virgil.”

Virgil stopped smiling.  “What?”

“Did you miss the not ready part of that sentence?” Janus said, sitting down across from him.  “He definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with you dating other people in the meantime.”

Virgil scowled.  “I don’t owe him anything.”

“Yes, you do.  He’s your soulmate.”

“And since when does that kind of thing matter to you?  Part of the whole damn reason you fell for me is because I’m not your soulmate.  You hate soulmates.”

“But you don’t,” Janus said, looking firmly at him.  “Virgil, I saw you with him.  You don’t hate him.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him!  I love you.”

Janus sighed.  “Virgil.”

“What?”

“You can’t possibly see yourself falling for him?  There’s no chance you could end up in love with him even more than you are with me?”

Virgil leaned back.  “What— Janus.  It’s not about that.”

“What’s it about then, Virgil?  Come on, he seems made for you.  That’s what they say soulmates are supposed to be, don’t they?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes.  “I don’t care.”

“Oh, so you don’t care about whether or not your family wants you to be with him?  Or your friends?  Or everyone else?”

Virgil winced.  “That’s different.”

“I’m not going to push you into the limelight like that, Virgil.  You seem uncomfortable now, when you’re doing what everyone expects of you.  If someone found out you were dating me, I…” Janus shook his head, looked more helpless than Virgil had ever seen him before.  “I can’t do that to you,” he finished, shifting backwards slightly.

“Don’t you think that should be my decision?” Virgil said, crossing his arms.

“Well, I’m making it.  I’m sorry.”  Janus stood up and started for the ladder.

“Wh- wait, Janus!” Virgil moved and started climbing down after him, catching his arm before he could run from the backyard.

Janus sighed, then turned and faced him.  “It’s okay,” he said.  “We’ll be okay.  Don’t try and stop yourself from falling for him, Virgil.  I won’t even be a little mad, I promise.”

“Janus, please.”  Virgil tried to pull him back, but Janus wouldn’t budge.  “What— what if I don’t see you again?”

Janus smiled sadly.  “How ever will I last,” he whispered, leaning in one last time and kissing Virgil gently.

The way he did goodbyes.

He pulled his hand out of Virgil’s and ran for the back gate, slipping through it and into the night.

…

When Virgil had no reason to try and dislike Ethan, liking him was much easier.  He was sweet, and very cute when he was excited, which tended to happen whenever he talked about theatre, which was his favorite part of school (he got along well with Roman).  He knew how to help Virgil if he was panicking, and he took an interest in the kinds of things Virgil liked.  Virgil tried so hard to return the favor, but he couldn’t make himself interested for very long.  That… that was okay.  That would change with time.

For all of Virgil’s fears about what having a soulmate would do to his relationship with Janus, now that the worst had happened, having one actually having one wasn’t so bad.  Ethan was easy to care about, and easy to spend time with, even if their interests didn’t always line up.  Virgil would fall in love with him.  He just needed a little more time.

These things worked themselves out, Patton said.  That had to be true.

Virgil’s parents were thrilled to meet Ethan.  His mom got along with him really well, and his dad seemed approving, if his smiles and nods to Virgil were anything to go by.  His mom was astounded when Ethan mentioned they weren’t dating yet.

“Why in the world not?” she asked, looking over at Virgil across the dinner table.

“It’s just… a big step,” Virgil muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” his mom said, in the way she did when she thought Virgil was being too anxious about something.  “I suppose that’s fair.  Take your time, of course.”

“It’s not just him,” Ethan said suddenly.  “I don’t want to rush things either.  We both decided to just take it slow.”

Virgil smiled gratefully at him, glad for the save. Ethan gave his hand a quick reassuring squeeze under the table.

They went up to Virgil’s room after dinner, and Ethan seemed concerned.  “Is your mom always that pushy?” he asked, as Virgil shut the door.

“She just… wants me to push myself,” he said.  “She thinks I would be more satisfied if I took more risks, went after what I want.”

“What if you don’t know what you want?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And therein lies the main problem in my relationship with my mother,” Virgil sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Ethan chuckled a little, moving to lean against the wall next to the door.

Virgil worried his lip between his teeth, and looked back at Ethan.  “You’re really okay with moving slowly?”

“Virgil, I told you,” Ethan said, smiling genuinely at him.  “I want you to be comfortable.”

“You want to be with me though,” Virgil said.

“I… do,” Ethan admitted.  “But if you’re not ready for that, I don’t want to rush you.”

Virgil looked at him a moment longer.  Ethan wasn’t bad looking.  Virgil liked him as a person.  Maybe in order to make the switch into liking him romantically, he just had to force it a little.

He took three steps across the room and kissed Ethan square on the mouth.  Ethan made a muffled noise of surprise, and Virgil pulled back instantly.  Idiot, you need to ask before doing something like that, you moron.

“I’m sorry!” Virgil said, stepping back.  “I’m sorry, I just— I—”

Ethan cut him off by reaching up and pulling him back in to kiss him again, and in the moment, all Virgil felt was relief that he hadn’t freaked him out or pissed him off.

He could do this.  He’d done this a hundred times with Janus, he just had to… go through the motions.  Come on, Virgil.  You know what you’re doing.

He pulled Ethan with him as he stumbled back across the room and pulled them both onto his bed, wrapping his arms around his back and trying to push himself a little farther.  He’d start feeling something any second now, he just needed to—

“Okay, okay, woah,” Ethan pushed him back, panting.  “I need to breathe.”

Virgil leaned back.  “Sorry.”

“Hey, no apologies necessary,” Ethan said, grinning at him.  “You… you’re very good at this.”

Virgil felt his cheeks grow warm.  “You wouldn’t guess, huh,” he muttered.

“Absolutely not a bad surprise,” Ethan said.  “It just might be my turn to ask you to slow down a tad.”

Virgil nodded.  “Okay.  You’ve got it.”  He looked down and fidgeted with his fingers.  “Want to watch a movie?”

“That sounds nice,” Ethan said, still looking very happy with the situation.  Virgil leaned over the side of his bed and grabbed his laptop as Ethan sat up.

It’s okay.  It’s okay.  You’ll fall for him.  You just need a little more time.

…

Time passed, and Virgil didn’t fall for him.  He didn’t know what else to do.  He tried to come up with something to make it better, some kind of “at least” to work off of.  At least Ethan was nice.  At least he was pretty.  At least everyone else was happy for him.  At least Janus didn’t hate him.  None of them seemed to work.

Virgil was quickly becoming the soulmate envy of all just like Patton, Roman, and Logan, and feeling absolutely miserable because of it.  He hadn’t shown it, of course.  He’d beamed at Ethan and kissed his cheek before classes and smiled and rolled his eyes in endearment whenever someone asked him how knowing his soulmate felt.

He couldn’t stand it.  He was pretty sure he’d never felt less like himself.  But Patton and Logan and Roman all smiled at him like they thought he was happy, and so did his parents, and so did Ethan, so Virgil tried to brush aside the miserable feeling in his chest and fool himself like he’d fooled everyone else.

He hadn’t expected a change to come from Roman.  With his general romanticism and his perfect soulmate story, he’d expected Roman to be the last person to be able to tell when someone wasn’t happy with theirs.  He’d noticed the occasional suspicious look sent his way by him, but he’d managed to brush it off.  He certainly hadn’t expected Roman to say anything.

On the day he did, Virgil had already been feeling pretty shitty.  It was around lunchtime, Ethan was sitting next to Virgil and smiling at him as they both ate, riveting them all with a story about what had happened during drama class.  Virgil had mastered the art of smiling and nodding along, and that’s what he was doing when he turned at just the wrong time and met eyes with Janus, who looked as miserable as Virgil felt.

His eyes widened when their gazes met, and Virgil tried to think of the last time he’d seen Janus in any way.  Janus was very good at disappearing.

As if proving his point, Janus looked away and disappeared into the crowded room like a ghost.

Virgil stood up and pushed his chair back, saying something about going to the bathroom before all but sprinting from the lunchroom.

About halfway to the bathroom he realized that was a mistake, because it was just going to make Ethan come looking for him, so he veered right to head out to the football field.  He sat on the bleachers and buried his head in his knees, trying to quiet any of his rushing thoughts.

“You are going to seriously hurt someone.”

Virgil jerked upwards and saw Roman walking up the side of the bleachers towards him, arms crossed and looking firm.

Virgil swallowed, recovering his bearings as Roman stopped in front of him.  “What?” he asked.

“Virgil, if you don’t love Ethan you need to tell him that.”

Virgil’s mouth went dry.  “What are you talking about, I do—”

“No.  You don’t.”

Virgil looked away.  “But I have to.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Virgil.  You clearly don’t.”

“But he’s my soulmate.  What… what else is there?” Virgil asked, like he didn’t know the answer to that question by heart.

Roman didn’t reply right away.

Then suddenly, Virgil was pulled up off the bleachers and into a hug.

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman whispered.  “Virgil.  There is so much more if you want it.”

Virgil blinked quickly, trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.  “What?”

Roman leaned back.  “Virgil, what on earth made you think that all soulmate bonds have to be romantic?”

“What— but you— but they are,” Virgil insisted.  “That’s just how soulmates work.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem very fair,” Roman said, smiling gently.  “First of all, aromantic people would be shit out of luck if all soulmate bonds had to be romantic.” Roman’s look turned curious.  “I have told you about my mother before, right?”

“Your mother, what— don’t you have two dads?”

“Not always.  My mother married my father before she realized she didn’t experience romantic attraction.  She ended up divorcing dad, but they’re still close friends.  That’s how their soulmate bond works, but my dads aren’t soulmates.  And mom lives with Remus.  He and I are soulmates, but that’s definitely not romantic.”

“Who’s Remus?” Virgil asked.

“My brother,” Roman said, waving his hand dismissively.  “He and mom live a couple districts over.  He’ll come over here more often on summer vacation and you can meet him.  Point is, soulmate bonds aren’t inherently romantic, nor should they be, in my opinion.”

“But… but you’re in love with Patton and Logan,” Virgil said weakly.

“Because I choose to be, Virgil.  The three of us don’t have to be dating.  I know that’s what most people tend to do, but it’s not fair to expect that of everyone.  What if you don’t want a partner right then?  Or ever?  What if you fall in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate?”

Virgil���s blood ran cold, and he took a step back, almost stumbling into the bleachers.  “Who told you?” he whispered.

Roman’s face fell.  “Oh, Virgil,” he said.  He moved forward and pulled Virgil into a hug again.  “No one told me, Virge.  I’m so sorry.”

Virgil’s breathing started to shake, and he pushed himself back from Roman.  “I thought— I thought you wouldn’t understand,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself.  “Because your soulmate story is so perfect.  I thought you wouldn’t—”

“A lot of people don’t,” Roman said quietly.  “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong for being afraid.  But right now all you’re doing is hurting Ethan, and yourself, and the other person you love.”

Virgil sat down on the bleachers and buried his head in his hands.  Roman, after a moment, sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

“I have to break up with him, don’t I,” Virgil muttered.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should do in that regard,” Roman said.  “But I think you should strongly consider telling him what’s going on.”

Virgil nodded.  “I thought I could make myself love him,” he whispered.

“Love doesn’t work like that, Virgil,” Roman whispered.

“It would be easier if it did,” Virgil muttered.

“Yes,” Roman agreed.  “But then you wouldn’t get to have the person you love now.  Is that what you want instead?”

Virgil shook his head instantly.  He hadn’t wanted to lose Janus in the first place.  He didn’t want to trade him for anything.

“Do you want to stay out here for a while?” Roman asked.

“I want you to go get Ethan,” Virgil said firmly.

Roman blinked, seeming surprised.  “Right now?”

Virgil nodded.  “Yes.”

Roman still looked hesitant.  “Are you—”

“I’m sure.”

Roman must have seen he meant it, because a second later he nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll be back.  Um, advice, don’t dance around the subject.  Be straightforward and genuine, but also gentle if you can.”

Virgil nodded.  “Okay,” he said, and Roman left.  Virgil leaned back against the bleachers and took a deep breath.  This wasn’t going to be fun.  It may not be romantic in nature, but he did love Ethan, and he didn’t want to hurt him.  He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands again.  Why had he thought this would last?

“Virgil?”

Virgil jerked upright and spun around, because that wasn’t Ethan’s voice.

Sure enough, there was Janus, standing just at the edge of the bleachers and looking concerned.

Virgil leapt to his feet.  “Where the hell have you been?” he snapped.

“I saw you run off, I wanted to make sure you’re okay—”

“Not what I meant.  You completely ignore my texts and then you avoid me at school?  You asshole.”

Janus turned his hands upwards, looking a little offended.  “What, did you want me to hang around all the time?”

“I didn’t want you to leave in the first place you idiot,” Virgil snapped, jumping down from the bleachers and storming over to stand in front of Janus.  “You were clearly miserable on your own.”

“And you were fine,” Janus said, stepping towards him.  “I was trying not to be selfish for once.”

“Oh, I was fine?” Virgil said, throwing his hands to the sky.  “Janus who’s spent most of these past months avoiding me thinks I was fine.  Never mind then.”

“I thought you wanted to do what everyone expected of you,” Janus snapped.  “It’s not like you ever wanted to fight for me.”

“Oh, fuck you, Janus!  I wanted what everyone expected of me because that made me feel safe.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“No, right now I just want to feel alive again,” Virgil said, moving forward until he was nose-to-nose with Janus.  “Which is kind of hard to do considering I’m starting to spend my whole life going through the motions.”

“Why would you need me to change that?”

“Moron,” Virgil said, and pulled Janus into a kiss, desperate and passionate and making up for all of the months he’d been gone.

They both pulled apart when a gasp came from nearby.

Virgil spun around to see Ethan standing at the edge of the walkway leading up to the field.

“Wait,” Virgil said, stepping towards him.  “Wait, that’s not how this was supposed to happen.  Ethan—”

Ethan spun around but didn’t leave, and Virgil moved across the field until he was right behind him.

“You’re never like that with me,” Ethan murmured.

“I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to be how I did this—”

“But you were going to do this.  You were going to leave me for him.  He’s not even your soulmate.”

“I know.  I… I’m sorry.  I do love you, Ethan.  Just not…”

“Not like I love you,” Ethan said, looking over his shoulder at Virgil.

Virgil winced.  “I’m sorry.”

Ethan laughed a little and looked down.  “I think I kinda knew it, you know?  I just wanted… I wanted to be enough for you.  But I was never going to be, was I?”

Virgil started to reach for him, but stopped and dropped his hand.  “I’m sorry,” he said again.  “You can… you can hate me if you want.”

Ethan looked up at him again.  “But you don’t want that.”

“Not everything has to be about what I want,” Virgil said quietly.

Ethan turned to face the school.  “I… I’m going now, Virgil,” he said.  “I’ll call you if I’m ever ready to talk again.”

“Okay,” Virgil whispered.  “Take care, Ethan.”

“You… you too,” Ethan said, and then he walked away.

Virgil watched him until he was gone, and then turned around to face Janus, who was casually looking around back in the middle of the field.  He looked back at Virgil when he started walking across to meet him.

“All good?” Janus asked, like he already knew the answer.

Virgil shook his head.  “No.”

Janus nodded.  “Yeah,” he muttered.

They both looked at each other for a moment.

“Janus?”

“Virgil?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Janus started grinning, and held out his hand.  Virgil grabbed it, and they both started running.  They made it to Janus’ car, and both got in, and drove.  And drove, and planned to drive some more.

Nothing was fixed.  They’d have to come back and face the music eventually.  Virgil had to tell Patton and Logan what happened.  He’d need to tell Janus about Roman’s parents.  They’d have to figure out a way to make this work, actually work, work in the way they both wanted.

But for now, they rolled down the windows, and drove out of the suburbs and out under the open sky.  Virgil screamed My Chemical Romance lyrics at the top of his lungs.  More than once throughout the drive he checked to make sure no other cars were around and leaned in to kiss Janus’ face off.  He had a lot of lost time to make up for, after all.

And now, hopefully, a lot of time to do it.

Part 2

[stevesharrlngtons]

adam, carved from the rib of eve.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: godfrey industries throws a party in the honor of their new ceo. roman is less than thrilled to be attending, but at least he has you. 

word count: 3.4k (a shortie)

a/n: i am such a slut for the “i hate everyone but you” trope as you can probably tell and that’s basically this fic lol. i ended up not loving the ending to this, but i like the beginning so i’m posting it anyways lol

Roman’s hand hadn’t left the small of your back for hours. His fingers widened and drummed and stroked and squeezed you through the slinky fabric of your dress, to both soothe himself and to keep you intune with his moods throughout the evening. His nails would probe into your skin when someone would approach him that he disliked, telling you with his fingertips of his distaste. Leaving small crescents in your dress and the smooth skin underneath kept him from showing his true loathing for an employee on his face. At certain points during the evening, you were worried that Roman would draw blood from his ministrations, fearing little lines of crimson would blot your dress and force you to tie his suit jacket around his waist like some midwestern mother. During these moments, you’d reach out to stroke his lapel or lean your temple to his shoulder in a show of affection and warning. Roman would ease his prodding and smooth his fingertips over his marks in sweet apology. 

Tonight was a big night for Roman. Tonight was the night that he was being officially inducted as the new CEO of Godfrey Industries. Large posters had been unrolled from the ceiling that pictured his signature pout and chilling glare; a slideshow that was being projected on a far wall of the rented ballroom showed pictures of Roman, Pryce and JR; napkins were leafed across tables with a congratulation message for Roman’s succession. Tonight was a momentous night in the history of The White Tower and the Godfrey legacy, and Roman was miserable. 

He hated that everyone wanted to talk about his father and Norman and his mother and Pryce and what he would do for the company in the future. He hated that he had to put on a neutral face and hob knob with men and women he deemed to be serfs and peasants. He hated that men eyed you up and down and women tried to grope him and he hated that anyone thought they were worthy of your combined presence. If either of you were forced to shake another hand he’d blow his brains out (hyperbole, unfortunately, because he could see a fat man with a wet upper lip approaching him).

But, he thanked whatever higher power that was out there that you were by his side, looking gorgeous and regal and supportive. Roman Godfrey said a silent thank you to every God his mind could name that you loved him and he loved you back, because he could not fathom attending this party without you. Without you smiling when he couldn’t conceal his hatred, without you lightening the mood with sweet anecdotes and pretending to look interested when his employees talked to you. 

You nodded and hummed and asked thoughtful follow up questions that left the impression on his lessers that Roman Godfrey and his girlfriend were good people; the kind of people who cared about the lives of their workers. He would be utterly lost without you, a thought that crossed his mind every time he glanced down at you, huddled into his side with a glass of champagne cradled in your dainty hand. 

Well, that and how much he wanted to fuck your brains out when you both returned home. You looked down right delicious in your evening gown.

Unfortunately when there is a party thrown in your honor, people are interested in talking to you. Soaking up your presence without any regard for how the honoree might feel. The mouth breathing attendees wrapped in their rented Men’s Wearhouse tuxedos didn’t care that Roman just wanted one minute alone to cozy up to his girl, as they formed a line to congratulate him and try to perform for him as a way to prove their keep. Little did they know they were just doing the opposite, only fueling his ire for them. Thankfully, the line had diminished for the first time that evening, leaving you and Roman to your own devices by the bar. 

“Thank fucking God,” Roman murmured as he order a bourbon and another glass of champagne for you. 

“Just try to grin and bear it. We can leave in an hour.” You reply, squeezing his hand that still resided near your backside. 

He groaned, “An hour?” 

“Yes, an hour. This party is for you. You don’t want to seem ungrateful or stuck up.” 

The bartender placed your drinks in front of each of you. Roman took his quickly and took a long pull from the glass. 

“You my PR director now?” He muses. 

“Hell yes I am, and you better be thankful,” You say, quite matter a factly, “I make you look good, approachable, the boy next door. Not the playboy who snorts coke off of hookers tits. I am the Persephone to your Hades. And people love it.” 

Roman chuckles, “I can’t say I don’t like that comparison.” 

You smile at him over the rim of your glass. Roman takes a drink from his own glasses and swallows thickly before speaking again.

“You know I am thankful for you, right?” 

Your grin softens at the uncharacteristic confession and you place your glass back on the bar so you can cozy up to him, “I’m thankful for you, too.” 

Roman stared down at you, love and appreciation pooling in his green eyes as his hand loops around you to link with his other. You place both hands on his chest and kiss his chin chastley as Roman melts into your embrace. You make him feel so needy and weak in a way he had always chased away and feared. But you made him love it, revel in it, look forward to the feeling. Though, it made his guard fall, you and your sweet kisses and sweeter touches, and right now, while he was in a room full of judgmental employees that he was trying to make see him as their alpha, probably wasn’t the best time for him to be turning to honey and sun shining warmth. 

Luckily (or not so luckily) the haze you two were in was broken by an onlooker. 

“I believe congratulations are in order.” 

Roman’s glare hardens within seconds as he looks away from you to Pryce, who stands behind you, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I don’t need them.” Roman replies, letting you untangle yourself from him. 

“Well, I offer my sincere pride and happiness for you, anyway.” Pryce says with a tight lipped smile. 

Roman doesn’t respond, just raises his eyebrows at the other man. 

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, Pryce moves his attentions to you, “(Y/N), you look stunning tonight.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” You respond politely. 

“I’ve heard from many patrons tonight that you have bewitched them, they are all fat and happy with the care you’ve shown them.”

“I do what I can.”

“I would enjoy it if some of that good will would rub off on you, Roman. It isn’t becoming for any of us for you to look like a tyrant.”

Roman scoffs, “I don’t want them to like me. I want them to be fucking scared of who I am and what I can do.” 

“I believe Mussolini said something similar.” Pryce quips back quickly. 

“I’ll be their fucking Mussolini if I have to be.” 

“Let’s hope you’ll be more effective.” 

And again, there is a tense pause between the three of you. You sip the bubbles from your glass and try to burrow into Roman’s side to calm him. You knew Roman was capable of explosive outbursts, and you really preferred if he didn’t have one tonight in front of all these people. Especially at Pryce, when they were supposed to be creating a united front for the company. 

“Well, unfortunately I didn’t just come over to offer my congratulations,” Pryce begins. 

“It’s never just one thing with you,” Roman responds spitefully. 

“I came over to inform you that you are expected to give your speech soon.”

Roman’s jaw ticks, “What fucking speech?” 

“The speech we discussed last week.” 

“We didn’t discuss shit.”

“Believe me or not, we discussed a speech last week. Though, I suppose I am not surprised you don’t remember, as you seemed less than thrilled with the news when I gave it to you.” Pryce lamented. 

“I am less than fucking thrilled about it now.” He snapped. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Roman. This is a part of the job; addressing the troops.” 

“I don’t address the troops, I delegate someone to do that for me. Which is you, in the scenario.” 

“I am already giving a speech tonight, Roman. The one before your own that introduces you.” Pryce informs. 

Roman doesn't retort, just clenches his jaw tightly, you could see his muscles pulse through his skin. The glare he was giving Pryce would have made a lesser man quake, make them sweat and tremble with fear. But, the good doctor was used to Roman’s stares. 

“Go fuck yourself.” Roman spat, his face so close to Pryce’s that you could see flecks of spit freckle his skin. 

Roman then stormed off, pushing his way through the crowd and disappearing. 

Pryce gives a deep sigh, taking out a handkerchief to wipe his face while you simply shrug. 

“I can’t say it doesn’t worry me that a bonafide child will be taking over this company.” 

“Easy.” You say, reminding Pryce who he is talking too, “He’s just overwhelmed. He’s not much for public speaking.”

“But public tantrums he has no problem with.” 

“He’s very passionate. Something that will take this company far. Don’t forget that he is JR’s son, who himself was a very passionate man.” 

Pryce eyes you, “Will you continue to spin his outbursts into good omens?” 

You shrug again, this time with a budding smile, “I don’t mind.” 

He snorts, “What we do for love.” 

“Tell me about it.” You reply, before leaving Pryce by himself at the bar and going to search for Roman. 

You found him in a back hallway of the ballroom, back pressed to the wall with his knees to his chest, a lit cigarette between his lips.

“You look very modelesque right now. Very sexy,” You smirked and Roman looked up at you, “Like this in black and white? Boom, Vogue cover guaranteed.” 

You walked toward where he sat and smoothed your dress against the backs of your thighs so you could do the same. You faced him and rested your cheek to his bent knee. 

“You’re very funny,” He replied sarcastically, taking another drag from his cigarette, “Maybe I’ll just quit now and work on finding an agent.” 

“Well, you have the bone structure for it.” You played, but Roman still seemed less than amused.

“I’m serious. What if this is a sign?” He said, twiddling the filter between his thumb and forefinger. 

“What, the speech?” 

“Yes, the speech. What if me fucking it up, forgetting about it, is some sign from the business Gods that I’m just bound to mess this all up in the end? That I’ll embarrass myself and my father…” Roman’s voice shook at the periods. 

He was terrified, but had done a good job at hiding it. Over the last few weeks, you had been asking him how he felt about taking over at Godfrey, and everytime his answer was succinct and indifferent. Each time he told you that he was perfectly fine with the idea, as it was something that had been promised to him since birth. You never pried or pushed, but you made sure to keep a closer eye on his feelings than you normally did. You had a feeling the other shoe was going to drop and Roman would feel the weight of this decision lay on him, you were just waiting for when. 

“Baby, hey,” You cooed, snuggling closer to his folded up form, “None of that is going to happen, and you forgetting some stupid speech doesn’t mean anything. It means that you forgot, that's it. You’re human, you’re allowed to make human mistakes.” 

“Not in this job. Not when everyone is already waiting for me to fail.” Roman said.

“Well, you still are, because I’m telling you. You are allowed fuck ups and mistakes. It makes you seem more relatable.” You pluck the cigarette from between his fingers and take a drag. 

“I don’t want to relatable to those people,” Roman spits, “My God, nothing sounds worse.” 

You giggle, “Good thing you will never be like those people out there. Because those people, the ones out there desperately searching for your approval? Those people were born to worship men like you, Roman. You were born the man to be worshipped, the man to be followed.” 

Roman looked at you with his big doe eyes, both filmed with unshed tears as his lips pursed. You moved to place his cigarette back between his pouted mouth and let your thumb sweep across his bottom lip as you did.

“You, Roman Godfrey, will be amazing. You will shock and awe any and everyone. You’re not going to fail, because you don’t know how, baby. You are the man that I love, and no matter what, that won’t change.” 

A few tears had fallen on his cheeks as you spoke and Roman sniffled quietly, “You promise?” 

“I do.” And you leaned forward to slot your lips with his. 

The kiss was gentle and reassuring, you could taste the salt of his tears and the bourbon and smoke on his tongue. Roman’s hand came around to rest on your side and you purred at the contact. 

When you parted, it was because you could both hear the muffled sound of Pryce’s booming voice over the microphone. 

“Fuck,” Roman groaned, thunking his head against the wall, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

“This is what you’re going to do,” You leaned forward and took his face in your hand, “You’re going to go up there, thank Pryce for his words about you. Then, mention how much this company meant to your father and how proud you were of him, and how proud he would be of you. Then say something about how much you love the company, how much it means to you and the world of medicine, blah, blah, blah. Then round it out with something light hearted, maybe make a joke? Then you’re done, you’re out of there.” 

“Are you sure that’s enough?” 

“It’s gonna have to be.” 

Roman nodded, before crushing the remainder of his cigarette under his dress shoe and pulling you into his side. You both sat in silence as you listened to the faint sound of Pryce’s speech. He was a well spoken man, which you knew made Roman nervous. 

“You know,” You said, breaking Roman from ruminating on what was to come, “I heard this couple talking shit about us.” 

“What?” Roman barked, snapping his head to look down at you. 

“Yep, when I was coming out to look for you, I heard them.” 

“What in the ever loving fuck did they say?” He fumes. 

“They were talking about how we were eye fucking each other all night, and how are PDA was inappropriate for the event.” You snort a laugh. 

“Who were they? Did you get a good look?” He was angry, you could feel it in the rigidity of his body. Your plan was working.

“Nah, just overheard them.” 

“Well, they better fucking hope I don’t find out who the fuck they are. Fucking rip their fucking eyes out for looking.” 

You giggle and Roman looks down at you again, anger and curiosity in his eyes. 

“I just love it when you get all riled up, it’s hot, baby,” You reach out to press a lingering kiss to his pulse point, “Love it even more than when you show everyone that I’m yours.”

Roman’s expression changes on a dime and pure hatred shifts into a sauve look of arousal, “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You hum, leaning to give more kisses to his throat, “I love how your hands feel on me, love that everyone can see, love how possessive you are, baby.”

A moan rips from Roman’s chest and he quickly grabs you and forces your legs around his hips to straddle him, “You like it when I show everyone you’re mine, huh?” 

He subtly bucks his crotch into your own and you whimper at the contact, “I love everything you do to me, baby.” 

His lips descend on yours once more, but this kiss is anything but soft. It’s hot and passionate and intense and fucking raw. His teeth clanging against your own, his tongue pushed deep in your mouth, both his hands groping your breasts. He occasionally broke apart from you to curse or to whisper an obscenity. You loved when he got like this, and you knew he needed it. He needed to feel in control, he needed to feel desired and strong. He needed to know he was still powerful; a protector. 

“You wanna know what you’re gonna do?” You moan, pushing his face to mouth at your neck.

“What, baby?” He asked breathlessly as he covered your skin in filthy kisses.

“You’re going to go out there, and fucking nail this speech. Show them that you’re the fucking boss, that you are in charge. That you own them and this fucking company. And you’re gonna do it knowing that I am in the audience, watching you, waiting for you to take me home and fuck me so good I can’t see straight.” And you pulled him away from you. 

His pupils were blown, his mouth red and kiss bitten and he panted as he gazed at you. 

“What the hell? Your plan was to give me blue balls then throw me on stage?” 

“A little, but mostly make you remember who you are. Roman Godfrey, the most powerful man I know, the only man who gets me soaked in seconds.” 

“Damn right I am,” He kisses you hard once more before you pull him off again. 

“Now go give your speech so we can go home,” You patted his shoulders firmly then stood from his lap. 

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” Roman complained, standing as well. 

But he didn’t, he really fucking loved you. Because somehow you knew every part of him, every nook and cranny of his twisted brain, every emotion and feeling before he had it. You knew him, and you always knew just what to do. He had been preening at your earlier praise and then fully immersed in your kiss and had totally forgotten about the speech altogether, along with his nerves. You had pumped up his ego with acclaim and hot touches and suddenly he wasn’t so scared anymore. Because all those stupid fucks out there, they didn’t matter. Like him or not, he owned this company, he owned them. They would learn to fear him, to want to be him, and that was something Roman knew was true (something that you had helped remind him). He fucking loved you so much, for always knowing what to do when he felt lost and helpless in the dark. Roman knew that taking over Godfrey Industries was the first in many steps he would take for the rest of his life to take care of you, and guide you through the blackness when you needed it.

“Sure you do,” You laugh.

“I’m supposed to go up there with this? You gonna let that happen?” He gestured to the bulge in his pants. 

“Think about baseball.” You shrugged and started back to the ballroom. 

Roman groaned loudly before catching up to you. 

As you both came through the double doors to the event, Pryce seemed to just be finishing up, catching Roman’s eye in relief that he hadn’t bounced. You reached down and gripped his hand as Pryce introduced Roman and gestured him to the stage. 

His face fell as all eyes moved to him, but you were there to plant a strong kiss on his lips and whisper, “Just giving that couple somethin’ to talk about.” 

Roman couldn’t help the cocky smile that spread over his face after that. He walked to the stage and you took your seat at one of the head tables. 

Roman cleared his throat and shook his blazer over his shoulder to resettle it as he looked out over the sea of his new employees. The sea of his new employees and you: who gave him an excited thumbs up and a wink. 

And Roman knew this would be a piece of cake. 

i really hope you enjoyed!! if you did, i would love to hear any and all feedback <3 also, bear with me for a while, i am not sure when my next story will be out bc the ones i have working on rn are kinda long, but! until next time (:

[rohad93]

RWBY - Driftwood

~ ~ ~ 

Post Volume 8 finale

~ ~ ~ 

Her whole body hurt.

Not that Ruby expected much else when she and Blake fell from the golden bridge to the inky blackness below; their aura broken.

Actually, she really expected to not even be alive. Ambrosius’s warning not to fall had echoed in her head as the pathways grew more and more distant before all light vanished, swallowed up by the inky blackness.

She could hear Blake yelling and then nothing, like being smothered with a thick blanket. There was no sound, only a dull static buzzing in her ears along with the heavy thumping of her own heartbeat. The all-encompassing darkness had been suffocating. She couldn’t breathe, but she must have somehow.

She and Blake had separated at some point and the next thing she knew, she had hit the water with all the force of a rampaging Ursa, the back of her head slamming against the water and it may as well have been cement for all the force with which she landed. She thought that she may even have blacked out for a moment before the cold water and the need for air made her eyes pop back open. It took a long second for her to orient herself, swimming up toward the light.

The swelling ocean waves and an island laid out in front of her, a towering tree reaching up toward a ruddy pink sky. She didn’t spare it more than a glance before making her way to shore.

She coughed as she crawled onto the beach, sand squelching under her fingers and knees.

The sun was warm on her back but she was numb to it as she stared blankly down at the sand, watching the rivulets of water drip from her hair and face, leaving dark splotches in the granules.

Her head pounded in time with her heavy heart and her lungs burned with fire as she gasped for air. Her limbs weighed down every movement and all Ruby wanted to do was collapse on the dark sand and never move again. The dull throb piercing every inch of her body pulled her deeper into the miasma of despair.

She forced her head up and looked around at the expanse of beach that seemed to stretch to the horizon on either side of her, blank and unchanging.

With a pained grunt, she pushed herself up off her knees, stumbling a little as she climbed to her feet.

Where even was... this?  

The trees stretching out in front of her were like nothing she had ever seen before, twisted and bent in looping knots toward the ground before their leafy tops stretched back up toward the sky.

She pushed her soaking wet hair out of her face and took a tentative step toward the trees. She was bone-weary but she forced her aching body to move just the same.

When the spirit of the staff had warned them not to fall, she had expected something else.

A bottomless abyss…

Death…

Not a tropical island.

She moved, without purpose or sense of direction through the jungle landscape. The sounds of birds cawing echoed off the trees. The foliage was thick and wild and the air was heavy and humid.

She was slowly coming back to herself the longer she moved. Feeling returned to her limbs and the haziness in her head parted some. The oppressive heat and humidity was starting to get to her and she stopped long enough to pull off the insulated shirt, letting the air finally get to her skin. Her aura was broken, so she had no way to regulate her body temperature until it regenerated. While the fall didn’t kill her, she may very well sweat to death in the thickly insulated gear now that she had left behind the bitter cold of Solitas. She threw it down in the dirt and left it there as she moved.

The water beading up on her skin was as much sweat now as it was seawater.

If she had survived the fall, then surely Yang and Blake had to be here somewhere too.

Unless…

She stopped and turned to look back in the direction of the ocean that she could no longer see through the trees and the weight of everything began to settle on her.

What if they had drowned? What if instead of landing in the water they had hit the ground?

What about Weiss? Her aura had been broken when she shoved her out of the way of Cinder’s attack. Had she fallen? Had she gotten through to Vacuo?

Or had Cinder...

Water began to gather in the corners of her eyes and her fists clenched, the leather of her gloves squeaking in her grip as a sob ripped out of her throat.

Her partner, her sister, her closest friend… was her whole team just gone… was she the only one left? What about Jaune and Penny? Were they still fighting or had they fallen too?

She choked on another sob and sank to her knees in the dirt as her sorrow wracked her body.

All she had wanted to do her entire life was help people, keep them safe from the monsters that surrounded them. Make life better, like her mother…

Her mother, who had probably been turned into a creature of grimm by Salem for her eyes. Taken every good intention and warped it into something black, ugly, and malicious.

How had everything crumbled to ruin around them, again!?

Cinder.

It was always Cinder. Ruby clenched her teeth as her body trembled.

She understood now, why her eyes reacted to the woman. Her grimm arm stuck out in Ruby’s mind.

She was a monster, in every sense of the word.

“Argh!” Ruby slammed her fist into the dirt, over and over until it throbbed and she’d spent what little energy she had left pounding a divot into the ground. Something dark and ugly had pooled in her stomach, spreading through her veins like wildfire.

Hate

Hatred so bright and hot it set her aflame from the inside out.  

Salem might have been behind it all but it was Cinder who had continued to take and destroy everything she had ever fought for, ever cared about.

The fall of Beacon, Pyrrha, Haven, her sister, her teammates!

She tasted salt as tears dripped down her face, splattering in little dark spots on the ground.

Why… Why did she keep trying?

Now they had lost two relics and everything in between.

Maybe Ironwood had been wrong but how had her plan turned out any better? What good did saving the people of Mantle and Atlas do if Salem got the relics anyway and destroyed all of Remnant?

She sat there and cried. The burning hatred ebbing away to make way for something else.

Despair

The searing hatred bubbling beneath her skin fizzled out and bitter despair took its place.

Acrid and raw, burning up the back of her throat with a fresh wave of tears.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there in the dirt, lost to the world around her as despair reigned supreme and she didn’t know how long she might have, if a distant sound hadn’t finally broken through the haze of anguish.

Ruby looked up, sniffling as she strained her ears to listen for the far-off sound that didn’t fit the noises of the jungle.

A voice.

One she would know in her sleep.

“Ruby… Blake…. Yang!”

Was that…?

She scrambled to her feet and took off running in the direction of the voice calling her name as it grew louder and loud.

“Ruby!”

Ruby panted as she ripped through the thick jungle undergrowth, never slowing even as branches and plants whipped at her face. She was unconscious to it all; nothing penetrated except the sound of the voice growing ever closer and the furious pounding in her ears as she tore through the trees.

She burst through the tree line and skid to a stop the moment her eyes landed on the bright spot of blue and white in front of her that stood out like a beowulf at a dinner party among the dark greens of the jungle.

Weiss whipped around at the commotion she’d made and her eyes widened as they landed on her partner.

“Ruby!” She all but screamed before dashing forward and Ruby’s feet were moving without her even realizing until she crashed painfully into Weiss, arms wrapping around her in a near stranglehold. Ruby would take any pain in the world if it meant seeing her face again.

“Ruby... You’re okay…” She heard Weiss’s strained and desperate words against her ear and she squeezed her all the tighter as tears again started to gather in her eyes.

“Weiss…,” she choked, burying her face in the other woman’s neck. Her grip on Weiss remained air-tight but her knees were folding beneath her and the next thing she knew they were kneeling in the dirt, clinging desperately to each other. She could feel the cool drops of water dripping onto her shoulder where Weiss’s head was pressed against hers. They squeezed each other for a long, handful of minutes, relief washing over them.  

Eventually, they pulled back but didn’t go far, still clinging tightly to each other.

“Are you okay?” Ruby asked, silver eyes darting across Weiss’s tear-stained face as she stared back at her, nodding.

“Yes… I…” She sniffled. “I was afraid that you…,” she trailed off and if possible, Ruby’s hold tightened.

Her mind was still foggy with everything that had happened but the sheer relief she felt now that Weiss was here, in front of her, was like a ray of sunlight piercing the dark clouds of her misery.

“I’m not hurt…,” she assured, pulling back to grip Weiss’s shoulders, her thumbs running soothingly back and forth over her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was okay. Okay was the last thing she was right now. She was alive, and for now, that would have to be enough.

“Have you seen Yang or Blake?” Weiss asked, releasing her hold on her partner and Ruby shook her head.

“What happened after I fell, Weiss?” she asked and Weiss’s lips pursed, tears continuing their slow trek down her cheeks.

“Cinder took the relic…,” Weiss said quietly and Ruby’s jaw tightened, teeth clicking together.

“Did Penny at least get to Vacuo?” she asked and Weiss froze, eyes flickering to her lap and fingers curling into tight fists against the top of her thighs.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see it.

Penny’s body, an hour into becoming a living girl of flesh and bone, lying lifeless on the ground and Jaune’s sword, stained with dark, crimson blood.

She looked up at Ruby’s questioning face and swallowed thickly. How badly she didn’t want to say the words sitting like rocks in her mouth; but she had to.

“Penny…” Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips. “Penny was injured… and we didn't have the time to heal her. She… asked Jaune to kill her, so Cinder wouldn’t get the maiden powers…,” she trailed off, voice growing lower with the words. She could feel Ruby’s grip on her shoulders tighten into a white-knuckle grip and winced at the nails biting into her skin.

“He did…,” she mumbled and Ruby’s grip on her tightened for a brief second before she ripped her hands away and shot to her feet, turning on her heel and walking a few feet away before she stopped as Weiss scrambled up to follow her.

The air around them was tense and quiet, the chirping of the birds and rustling of the trees in the breeze were the only sounds between them.

Weiss didn’t know what to say as she stared at her leader’s back, watching the growing trembling in her frame.

Ruby hunkered forward, body shaking, then suddenly, jerked back, headshot back as a scream filled the air.

Cold chills ran up Weiss’s spine as she watched, wide-eyed and lips parted in silent shock as Ruby wailed up at the coral-colored sky.

The howl faded, turning into choked sobs and that knocked Weiss’s feet loose as she rushed to close the distance between them.

“Ruby…” She lifted a hand but stopped short.

“Why… Why Penny… why again!?” Ruby choked on her choppy breaths in between sobs. Weiss frowned, stepping closer.

“She wanted to keep the power safe from Cinder at all costs… to do the right thing. What she thought was right, like you would have…” She jerked back, eyes wide as Ruby whipped around.

“When have I ever done the right thing!?” Ruby screamed, slapping a hand to her chest. “Everything I’ve done, every decision I’ve made has only made everything worse!” she choked as tears dripped down her cheeks. “We lost the lamp, we lost the staff, we lost Penny…. again! All I am is a failure!” she screamed before sobs rocked her body and she crumpled to the ground in a heap, hands pressed to her face.

Weiss quickly crossed the remaining distance between them to kneel in front of the sobbing young woman. Her body shook and her head hung, refusing to meet Weiss’s eyes.

“Ruby, no… You’re not a failure…,” she said quietly but there was steel in her voice. “You are the bravest and kindest person I’ve ever known, Ruby. You always try to do the right thing and you’ve made some mistakes, we all have! You can’t know everything… you can’t be perfect!”

“I can’t do anything right, why do I keep trying? Everything just blows up in my face!” Ruby finally looked up at her, eyes rimmed with red and lips pulled back over her teeth. The fury and desolation flickering in her eyes struck at Weiss’s very core.

It broke Weiss’s heart to watch Ruby crack and fracture under all the pressure that had been building for months. She’d always been amazed at how strong Ruby had remained through everything but even her fearless and intrepid partner had finally reached her breaking point. The weight of their world having finally settled on her young shoulders.

Weiss bit her lip, feeling helpless just sitting there as Ruby continued to cry.

“You try… because that’s who you are, Ruby,” she said quietly. Reaching out to lay a gentle hand on Ruby’s forearm. “You want to make things better, you want everyone to be better and you actually work toward it, every day. You don’t just say it, you do.” Weiss squeezed. “Yang and Blake… you’ve helped them so much… you’ve helped me, more than I know how to say,” she mumbled. “You help everyone.”

Ruby’s cries quieted but they didn’t stop.

“I haven’t helped anyone lately… every decision I made was wrong,” was the gravelly answer and Weiss frowned, tears pricking her eyes as she watched her partner unravel before her eyes.

“I know that things have gone wrong… but you can’t do everything, you can’t fix it all. All we can do is try and you do. More than anyone I've ever known.” Weiss gave another squeeze as Ruby sniffled. “You’re…”

She hesitated, words stalled on her tongue. Words that had been sitting in her mouth, unsaid for some months now but there had just never been a good or right time for them to be said. Weiss was starting to think that maybe there never would be a good time.

“You’re amazing, Ruby. You make me want to do better and be better and that’s… that’s one of the things I… I love about you…,” she murmured, eyes trained on the ground between them. Ruby looked up at her, silver eyes glossy and red as tears continued their trek down her flushed cheeks.

“There’s no one else like you in all of Remnant and I don’t know what I would do without you to lead us, to remind us why we're doing this, why we have to do this. You inspire us… you inspire me .” She finally looked up and blue met silver for a long, silent moment. The buzz of cicadas and murmur of the birds in the distance being the only sounds between them for a long few moments.  

Ruby leaned forward and buried her face into Weiss’s shoulder and continued to cry. Not the earth-shaking sobs from before, just quiet, grieving tears.

Weiss wrapped her arms around her as tears fell from her own eyes, quietly carding a hand through the black and red strands of hair.

They sat there a long while, long enough that the sun had started to dip below the horizon, casting warm rays of orange light and the long, twisted shadows of the trees overhead.

Finally, Ruby pulled back and scrubbed at her raw cheeks with the back of her gloved hands.

“I don’t know what to do…,” she admitted sullenly.

“We’ll figure it out… like we always do,” Weiss said, giving another assuring squeeze and Ruby nodded. “It’s going to be dark soon, we should find some shelter,” She glanced at the sun sitting just over the horizon.

“Right…” Ruby climbed up on her numb legs, Weiss helping her as she pulled her to stand.

She went to pull her hand away but Ruby’s fingers wrapped around hers only tightened and Weiss looked at her, curiously.

Silver eyes were gazing back at her with an unreadable expression.

“Weiss…” She seemed to hesitate. “When... when you said you… loved me…,” her voice petered out and Weiss felt the embarrassment crawling up her throat. “Did… how did you… mean that?” she asked at last.

Weiss’s first instinct was to lie. To save face and not admit to this thing that had kept her up at night for a while now, right along with thoughts of Salem.

She wasn’t sure which she preferred to be the thing keeping her up at night.

Something about the barely held together look in her partner’s face though brushed away that instinct.

“I meant… I love you, Ruby. I’m… in love with you,” she finally said and watched the expression on Ruby’s face shift to total shock as her own face warmed.

“You… I…,” Ruby stuttered, unsure what to say.

“We don’t need to talk about this right now, Ruby…” Weiss cut her off before she could say anything else and Ruby’s jaw snapped shut from where it had been hanging open. They stared at each other for a long moment before she nodded.

“Right… later,” It was a promise.

Weiss nodded but felt Ruby give her hand another squeeze before finally letting it go. “We need to find shelter and we can look for Blake and Yang in the morning… there should be more people than just us that fell from the pathways,” she said and moved toward the trees with Weiss in tow. She was relieved to see a little life breathed back into her leader, even if she still looked broken.

That was okay. One step at a time and even if Ruby fell apart, Weiss would be there, to help her pick up the pieces.

[ly-canthropewrites]

Love or War

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 2998

Rating/Warnings: SFW. Brief mentions of previous season drama.

Summary: “I saw you staring at each other, I wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage” 

You can feel the heavy gaze from across the field. Intense eyes fixated on your figure as you rattle the chain-wire fence that surrounds the newest section of Alexandria. The post-apocalyptic town has been thriving since the end of Negan’s reign and with the undead being the town’s only consistent antagonist, it has given the community an opportunity to expand their borders. The chain-mesh fence was scavenged from the Sanctuary before the community fell off the map and serves as a strong protector as the new plot of land gets tilled. But it remains fragile when leant against and it has become a daily task during guard duty to rid the walkers that stumble near the temporary fence, a job you jump at to vent your frustrations. 

The deliberate noise draws the attention of the few walkers close by and they turn, growling as they catch your scent in the wind and they shuffle your way. It’s second nature now, muscle memory, to shift your grip on the knife handle and strike at their heads, using the fence for leverage and stability. The motions do nothing to quench the frustration and fire that rages inside you and you growl, yanking your knife from the last walker’s head with more force than necessary. The bloodied blade gets cleaned on the rag that is tied to your belt loops and then you are left with nothing to do, no more walkers to distract you from the boredom or the swirl of emotions that fester inside. 

You find yourself glancing over in his direction, succumbing to the gravitational pull of the universe and you don’t find yourself surprised at all to find him still staring at you, a dark scowl painted across his face. You sneer back at him, standing strong with your own gaze. 

“Stupid, fucking redneck,” you mutter under your breath and the fire that burns in your chest grows hotter, feeding off of your anger. 

The swishing of grass on your left distracts you and you are met with Carol only a few feet from you. You nod at her, giving her a tight-lipped smile as well before turning to look at the perimeter, finding nothing in the wilderness has changed and you sigh. 

“I saw you staring at each other, I wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage,” Carol says lightly, walking to your side and mirrors your stance; arms crossed and back straight. 

You scoff, openly showing that you aren’t in the mood for her banter today but it doesn’t deter the older woman. 

“Most definitely murderous rage” you grit.

“See, I don’t know about that - I see a lot of passion,” She teases.

You throw her a withering look, disdain heavy in your eyes and if Carol isn’t careful; some of that murderous rage will be pointed at her soon. 

“So if it is murderous rage, how long are you going to remain angry at him?” Carol tries a gentler approach, obviously getting the message and you wince, guilt beginning to set in as you mentally chastise yourself about your unrestrained attitude. 

Shrugging, you refuse to make eye contact with your old friend. “I don’t know Carol, he humiliated me,” you breathe.

“He didn’t mean too, he was worried,” Carol begins to defend him but when she sees you shaking your head and the flash of hurt across your face, she stops herself. 

“But he did it anyway. He humiliated me, he berated me in front of everyone, undermined me, treating me as if I am some soft fucker who hasn’t been beyond the walls” you spit and you render the woman silent, unsure about what to say next. 

When the silence between the pair of you becomes stagnant, Carol realises it’s time for her to leave and she steps back a few feet, mulling over her next words. 

“Talk to him,” she pleads and you snort, “Fuck no,”. 

Carol says your name in warning, making you roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking submitting. If he wants to talk, then he can man up and come to me with a goddamn apology,”. 

You hear her heavy sigh behind you before her retreating footsteps, leaving you to stew in your malcontent alone. It is your stubborn pride and bruised feelings that prevent you from talking with your old companion, from making amends and burying the hatchet, an ideal that is important in this world because life is too short and unpredictable to be so petty. And yet, you cannot help yourself this time. He hurt you, deeply, a stinging wound that will take time to heal. 

It’s not like you have done anything wrong in the first place. With the apocalypse a decade old, resources are unimaginably scarce, leaving only items that are grown, hunted or handmade to be used. It was commonplace for you to be the first person out of the gates in the morning and the last to return in the evening, spending hours and even days hunting, refusing to go back to Alexandria empty-handed. You are too stubborn for your own good, too arrogant in your capabilities to survive and adapt to the dangerous world. As a repercussion, your last run was almost the death of you. 

Enemies are like hydras; one falls and another takes its place. Negan was once considered Alexandria’s greatest threat, but that fear was usurped by the latest peril; the Whisperers. Negan ruled with fear and violence. The Whisperers rule with death. Their ability to influence herds is an obstacle that the community does not know how to overcome. The capricious nature makes every run, every scouting mission, every patrol dangerous and life-threatening. Therefore, it became law that no-one is to go outside the metal walls without a group and without informing the council. It should have been expected that you would struggle with this rule, never been one to abide by strict regulations, but the thought slipped the minds of the council and you kept slipping outside the gates. 

Your last run is a perfect example of why the rule is in place; you got caught by the herd with Whisperers dotted within. Perhaps they tracked you down or perhaps it was just shit luck that you ran into them, but it resulted in a fight for your life and an injury that planted fear on sight. It was sheer, dumb luck that allowed you to escape with your life; an old tree fell whilst you were in the midst of swiping at walkers and humans alike, and caused a great enough distraction that gave you the opportunity to bolt. You damn well shocked Rosita who stood on guard duty that evening as you came sprinting towards the main gates, coated in two types of blood and clutching at your side, out of breath with wild eyes. 

That night you had Siddiq inform you that you got lucky the knife wound at your abdomen was free of infection but he was stern to chastise that only one hour more and you wouldn’t have made it, wound too deep to be stemmed by only pressure and the combination of exhaustion and blood loss would have defeated you. His words didn’t shake you that night, instead, you shrug nonchalantly and smirked, telling him that death in this world is inevitable and you would greet it like an old friend.  

You refused to stay in the infirmary that night, scrunching your nose at the thought of being surrounded by sick people in a sterile environment, rather opting for the privacy of your own place. He was unable to stop you, letting you go with an armful of supplies and a sigh, watching you stagger down the pathway. You made it only halfway home before you were halted by a loud yell, the noise capturing the attention of not just you but the other residents that were milling in the nearby courtyard. 

“What the fuck wer’ ya thinkin’?” Daryl yelled, storming towards you with a glare that would frighten Hades. “How fuckin’ stupid are ya?” he adds. 

He berated you in public that night, practically screaming in your face about your stupidity, your lack of respect to the council and their rules, your selfishness and conceited attitude. He didn’t let you get a word in to defend yourself as he raged, words becoming harsher by the second. You could handle the words but it was the venom in his voice that surprised you. It was filled with so much anger, so much hatred and spite that you lost the words that you wanted to scream back at him. Instead, when he took a moment to catch his breath, you just walked away, your eyes on the ground as you stifled the bewildered cry that ached in your chest. 

The incident happened two weeks ago and you haven’t spoken since, avoiding each other like the plague but the distance hasn’t stopped either of your from directing heated glares at each other, consequently deepening the rift in your friendship. 

                                                          ----

The guard changeover occurs on dusk and when your replacement comes, you greet them with a tight smile as you pass over the unused rifle before quickly leaving the post. You don’t head home after the shift and instead, you go down to the armoury with hopes that working maintenance on the weapons will distract you from the words Carol has lodged in your mind. Daryl worried? You scoff at the thought. In a previous time, those words would have made sense - you and Daryl have been partners in crime since the fall of the world, similar in too many ways and it made sense that you were friends. But after seeing the pure acrimony he directed at you, you fail to believe it stemmed from a place of compassion. 

It was well past midnight when the doors to the armoury creaked open. It was probably someone on shift wanting to pick up more ammo or something alike. What you didn’t expect was to see the rugged hunter ease into the room. You stared at him with furrowed eyebrows and a twist in your lips, hands paused on the shotgun you were working on. 

“You weren’t home when I knocked,” Daryl states simply, gruff voice a melody to your ears after the long radio silence. 

“You know I don’t sleep when I’m alone,”

It’s true; you struggle to rest when there is no-one watching over you, a position that is usually filled by the man in front of you. 

Daryl nods, biting down on the inner side of his cheek as he reflects. Of course you don’t, you never have and he knew that. The poignant silence weighs heavily between you and Daryl shifts uncomfortably, moving further into the room to take a seat on the chair that sits in front of the sole workstation. You never sat at the workstation, preferring to sit on the floor so you had more space to work with but at this moment, you hated how you were positioned lower than the man. 

“Yer gonna use that thing on’ me?” There is a ghost of a sly smirk upon his lips, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes but you aren’t having it, you won’t befall to his sparse charm. 

“Don’t tempt me, Daryl Dixon,’’

The full use of his name and the stern attitude makes Daryl wince, the severity of damage he inflicted to you now evident before him. He nods silently, gnawing anxiously at his lip as you both fall back and stew in silence. You resume cleaning the weapon in your hands, needing to keep busy in an attempt to distract your mind from the chaos that sits in front of you. Daryl watches you, this time without the hatred and disdain, but his gaze is just as heavy as before. 

“Why are you here, Daryl?” 

He notes the tiredness in your voice, not the physical exhaustion that is a permanent state in this new world, but the emotional weariness that burdens you. 

“‘M here to apologise,” 

“Are you here because Carol told you to or because you actually want to?”

His hesitation is a loud answer and you scoff, glaring up at him with your teeth bared.  

“Of course not. Daryl Dixon never apologises because he actually wants to, no, someone else has to puppet him. You are so fucking incompetent,” you growl, “You can’t even do the right fucking thing. Whatever ‘apology’ you have concocted to make this all better; forget it, Daryl. I don’t fucking accept it!”. 

You take a predatory satisfaction in seeing the raw hurt flash across his face at your words. Your words are harsh, digging at old wounds that the man harbours but you can’t even conjure up the guilt or regret; hungry to dish out the same pain that you have received. Vexation and wrath raise its ugly head and you furiously rub at the long barrel of the shotgun, as if you would be able to transfer your rage through kinetic energy. 

“Yer keep sacrificing yerself for the group ‘n’ and I fuckin’ hate it,” He breaks the icy air. His voice cracks despite his whispered tone but you catch it the little hitch. 

Your cautious gaze meeting his is the signal he needed because he keeps going, as if the dam inside breaks and the words come spilling out; unrestrained, pure and honest. 

“You’v’ done it since the beginnin’. Take the burden of the group on yerself ‘n’ takin’ all the risks. We’v only survived this long b‘cause of ya. You’v always kept us goin’. When the prison fell, you wanted ter round everyone up ‘n’ then Terminus happened and..” he breaks off, eyes squeezing shut as he recalls the horrible and degrading things the savages there threatened you with; how they held the machete to your neck and how powerless he was to stop everything. You were so close to death that afternoon as well, mere seconds away from being just an empty vessel. 

“Then all the shit that's happened since. You’ve never stopped, never broke down. Just kept trudgin’ on. But it all caught up and you could’ve died out there… without me. ‘N I wouldn’t have known until it was ter late”. 

“But I could have died in here and you still wouldn’t have been able to do anything, Daryl - that’s life,” you argue.

Daryl’s head whips up so fast, you are sure he could have suffered whiplash, but you get distracted by the flames in his eyes. 

“It’s not life. You ‘ave no fuckin’ idea what yer do to me, woman,” Daryl groans, looking at you so helplessly, almost insulted at how you don’t get it. 

“Apparently I piss you off!” you retort, “Ya know, with my selfish attitude and lack of respect” you parrot his own words back to him, a glare resituating across your face. “You yelled at me, Daryl. You screamed in my face, in front of everyone, and then gave me the cold shoulder. Me, out of all people, your fucking friend”. 

He shakes his head while you speak, an action that only infuriates you more. You are ready to attack him about that, mouth already open as you reveal your disgust, “Stop fucking shaking your head as if I’m playing the vic-”. 

In your rant, you don’t acknowledge the scrape of the metal stool along the concrete, given barely enough time to react to the new stimulus of rough lips upon yours and a hand that grips your chin. Daryl swallows your surprise, mouth unyielding as he crowds into you, pushing you back against the back leaving you no room to run. He kisses you desperately. Frantically. It is messy and unruly, a bruising kiss that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head spin. You can taste every single secret that has ever danced across his lips, taste the fear that dwells within him but has never been uttered to another soul. You learn more about Daryl in this instance than you ever will in a lifetime. 

You both are slow to break apart; lips barely separating as you catch your breath, greedily sucking in as much oxygen as you can to sate the burning of your lungs. 

“‘M so fuckin’ sorry,” he cries against your lips. 

His hand still has a firm grip on your jaw, which is sure to leave finger-shaped bruises in its wake, but like his kiss - his touch is desperate as well. 

“You’v neva been a victim. I was just so fuckin’ scared that I would lose ya. I can’t lose ya,” he stresses, a voice that sounds so pained and winced; it sounds as if the wounds were personally inflicted upon him. 

He drops his death-like grip on your chin, bowing forward to rest his head against yours, never straying too far from your space. Your arms wind around his hulking form; bringing him closer and Daryl lets himself slump against you, his head slipping to rest on your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck and his body, although heavy, feels like comfort from a warm blanket. You can feel him utter endless apologises into the crook of your neck, lips brushing along your skin and you memorise the soft tone of his voice as he echoes “‘M sorry,”. 

You hush him, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to the dark tresses, whispering “I know,” to every apology he mutters. Eventually, the apologises fade and you are submerged in peaceful silence, curled into each other. You don’t need to ask why he couldn’t have just told you all those words at the beginning, to save you both the agony and trauma of the last few weeks. But your Daryl is complex, a stunning mosaic of intricate emotions that aren’t easily given and you accept that this is who he is. The man would go to war for love; for you.

Tags:

@guywithacrossbow​

@oncemorewithfeelingg

@rachelxxraucous

@gaenahelleborus​

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

More than 5 minutes with Thor

note from Jo: It’s been a long time since a plot bunny took me for a run. I’m not sure this worked out the way I wanted it to, but it’s a step in the writing direction again.

XXX “You green-eyed she-devil,” Thor spat, cursing me with his words. “This is all your fault!”

“How is is my fault?” I snarled back, trying to loosen the rope binding us together, back to back. “Can’t you just call your stupid hammer to come and save us?”

I felt his snort of disgust more than heard it. “You somehow think Mjolnir can just, what, exactly? Grow thumbs and untie these knots?”

“Listen thunderboy, if you don’t get us free, I will fucking kill you myself,” I snapped. I hated being sent on missions with Thor. He was certainly much humbler than he had been when he first came to Earth, but there was a natural arrogance carried by royalty that he could never completely shake. And suspicion about those of us with powers. 

“Your jedi mind tricks won’t work on me,” he snapped. Right, and Tony had started introducing him to pop culture, which made him even more annoying. 

“This is going to be so enjoyable,” a voice echoed through the room, obviously through some kind of speaker. “You idiots played right into my trap.”

“You dare entrap the son of Odin?” Thor roared, lightning sparking around the room ineffectively. A stray spark hit my wrist and somehow loosened the bonds there enough that I could begin to work the knot holding me.

“And the daughter of a man,” the voice laughed. “The great Thor brought low as a mortal by trying to save his powerless team member. If you wish to leave alive, you will do exactly as I say.”

Thor drew in his breath as though he was going to start yelling again, and I had just enough play in the ropes to elbow him in the ribs to shut him up. I was hoping he wasn’t so angry he didn’t notice that our captor thought I was powerless. I absolutely wasn’t.

“What is it you want from us?” I asked.

“Your love,” the voice responded. I choked on a laugh.

“We do not love each other,” I retorted. “We can barely stand one another. He’s an arrogant -”

“Stupid human, you couldn’t possibly understand,” the voice interrupted. “My plan is to pull all of the emotions from this world, starting with you. Without love, or hate, or empathy, or disdain, this entire planet will atrophy. There will be no drive, no motivation. Humanity will simply die off. And then my people can move in, extract the resources we need, and carry on, as we always have.”

“And why us first?” Thor demanded.

“The power of a god? Much like jumpstarting a vehicle, the strength of the first emotions gathered will make the power of my engine stronger,” the voice explained. I finally managed to push the end of the rope though the loop, freeing one of my wrists. Keeping my hands in place, I started working on the other knot.

“If you just want to deplete our emotions, why start with love? Isn’t hatred that much stronger?” I asked.

“Certainly, but making you fight might cause your death, and I need you to go out and spread the contagion that will leech your humanity away.”

“So you’re somehow going to make us fall in love?” I snorted. “Not likely, as I said -”

“No, you’re going to make love. At climax, this chamber will steal your passion, and -”

I started laughing, hysterically. “What the fuck?” I couldn’t help but cackle exactly like the witch Thor accused me of being. “This is the stupidest trope in the universe. Fuck or die? Seriously?”

I felt the ropes fall from both my wrists and turned to unbind Thor, still laughing. My laughter was both terrified and amused. Whoever had us captive honestly thought Thor and I would have sex in order to get free.

“Free! I could kiss you,” Thor teased as he held out his hand to call Mjolnir.

“Well, don’t. We don’t want this creep being successful.” Mjolnir broke through the wall of the room, and snapped into Thor’s hand. Through the hole in the wall, we could see a bank of computers, but no person or creature who could be responsible. We stepped through the hole in the wall, careful to be quiet, and followed the hallway to what appeared to be an exit, encountering no one. I tugged on Thor’s arm before he pushed the door open.

“Shouldn’t we be finding this asshole and stopping him?” I asked. Thor met your gaze and thought before speaking.

“No, I think we should return to the compound, and have Stark look into this,” he replied after a moment. “There’s more here than meets the eye.”

XXX

“You escaped before you had to do the do, right?” Tony asked. I sighed and rolled my eyes and Thor glared.

“I need not lay with a woman who hates me,” Thor replied and turned to me. “I am grateful for your skill at freeing us.”

“Your lightning trick in there zapped me, and loosened the ropes. It was a team effort,” I shrugged. 

“I called you a she-devil. You have apologies,” he offered. I smirked.

“A green-eyed one, even. You’ve looked long enough to know my eye colour,” I winked. He grit his teeth and you noticed a light flush on his cheeks.

“He can describe the exact colour of your hair too,” Tony pointed out. “Something about the ruddy gold of Idunn’s apples right before the harvest.” Thor turned pinker.

“That’s downright romantic,” I commented, “particularly considering you hate me.”

Thor shook his head. “You are maddening. You try my every nerve. But I have never hated you. I only guard my feelings because of the disregard you hold me in. You’ve a viper’s tongue when you are angered.”

“And when I’m not?” I asked, curious. Thor met your eyes and looked away. He took a deep breath and looked back at you before looking down at his feet. He stared meaningfully at Tony until the latter cleared his throat and pointed at the door, excusing himself. Finally, his shoulders squared up and his eyes met yours.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met. You beguile me enough that I asked Loki if you’d ensorcelled me with your magic,” he admitted.

“And what did Loki say?” I breathed.

“That there was no reek of Midgardian spellwork to me. That I am merely smitten with a woman who notices not my own charms,” he admitted, looking away. There was hurt and humiliation written on his face

“Oh, I’ve noticed your charms,” I admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. His head snapped back to look at me. “You’re infuriating, but you’re also really goddamn pretty.”

“It would have been no hardship to make love to you,” he admitted. 

“Maybe under different circumstances,” I nodded.

“Yes, I believe after what you would call a date,” he smiled. “Perhaps we could watch a movie tonight.”

“We still have a bad guy to catch,” I protested. He stepped closer and pressed his forehead to mine.

“Tomorrow.”

[honeypwark]

[ Riverside ]

  ↳ Gone Days era

       ↳ Xiang interrupts Chan and Jisung. She and Chan take a walk. She finally tells someone.

Note: Maybe reread Quitter and Turbulence before reading?

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains a detailed explanation of how Xiang developed and lived with her eating disorder. Please do not read if this is triggering for you.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Chan sits at his desk with Jisung beside him, explaining how different chords in the same spot will change the feel of the song and he should choose based on what vibe he wants the song to have.

“I kind of want it to not just cut off. Like it’s leading to more even after the song’s ended.”

“G7 might work better then.”

“G7...?”

Chan plays the chord on the keyboard to his left.

“Oh, got it.”

“As opposed to G.” He plays said chord.

“Alright. And for the second verse I wanted to-“

There’s a soft knock on the door, “Chris?”

Chan turns in his desk chair, his attention immediately going to the girl that walks into the room.

“Hey, Sophie.”

It’s been three days since Xiang’s breakdown in the bathroom at four in the morning. The next morning, Xiang had promised she’d talk to Chan about what caused it but she’d need time. He gave her time, not even mentioning what had happened. Of course, without any kind of explanation, Chan has been left to worry about every little thing and see all the worst case scenarios for the last few days.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?”

“What? Is he your dog or something?”

Xiang’s eyes land on Jisung, who she hadn’t noticed when she’d entered, too tunnel visioned on finally growing a pair and talking about her issues. It took her nearly an hour to knock on Chan’s door and ask to go somewhere to talk privately. Her momentary false bravery crumbles visibly on her face as she realizes Chan is busy.

“Oh, sorry. You’re busy.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chan says quickly, stopping her from leaving. He turns to Jisung, “We’ll finish later, alright?”

Jisung is confused but nods slowly, “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Jisung watches as his leader saves everything on his computer without his usual attention to detail, scrambling out of his chair after Xiang as she walks back out of the room. He blinks after him confusedly, rolling his eyes before packing up his laptop to return to his own bedroom.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After taking a bus to Han River and walking along the riverside for about five minutes in silence, Xiang is still struggling with beginning to lay it all out for Chan. She squeezes the linings of her jacket pockets, the joints of her fingers aching from the strength behind it.

“Do you want to sit?” Chan asks, pointing toward a bench they’re approaching.

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

Xiang takes a deep breath in. She breathes it out slowly. She relaxes her hands in her pockets.

“I have an eating disorder.”

Chan wishes he could say that her admitting that makes everything fall into place. That he can say he’s noticed her acting strange. That he can admit he’s been worried about her weight loss. But he can’t. Because he didn’t notice those things. He’s aware of her weight loss (she‘s trended on Naver a few times because of her light weight) but he never thought of it as the outcome of something terrible. Dammit, he should have.

“Y-You do?” he stammers.

“Yeah. It probably started when our manager told me the company wanted me to lose weight. I don’t blame him, I really don’t. He was just doing his job. But... it got me thinking and I decided to eat less and work out more and that’s where it all started. It wasn’t that bad to begin with. I had control of what I was doing and it was like being in a diet. I’ve never been the most mentally sound person; I have clinically diagnosed anxiety, depression, and depersonalization but that’s a whole other can of worms.”

Now that she’s started, it’s easier to lay it all out.

“After I decided to eat less, I started skipping meals. In my mind it made sense. To lose weight, eat less. So I did. I started lying to you and the others about eating, saying I had when I hadn’t or that I wasn’t hungry when I was. It went on like that for a while, just not eating and working out a lot more. But I felt so guilty when I did eat. When I couldn’t avoid it.

“So I started making myself throw up. It all piled on top of each other and I barely ever ate and kept it down. I probably started eating a meal or two every three or four days. For a while that’s what I did. I lost so much weight. It was so unhealthy. I weighed myself before we left for tour in America and I was 37.6 kilograms.

“I felt like I was going to pass out during the entire performance in New York. I only woke up at six in the evening the next day. I was scared that the next time I went to sleep, I wouldn’t wake up. That my body would just give out on me. So I went and ate pizza with the younger boys. I started eating at least once a day because I had to do my job. I still didn’t eat enough but... it was something.

“And that should have been good. I should have been proud of myself for starting to take care of myself but I wasn’t. I hated myself for eating. I started gaining weight. I realized one night that what I thought I had control of I didn’t because I can’t control how much I hate myself.

“I went out with Yeosu one night and I ate more than I had in such a long time. I felt so guilty and I started rambling to her about my problems. But I ran away before she could even respond. I tried to stop on my own because Yeosu is so amazing and so famous and she’s mentally fine. And I got a little better. But then the company asked for an update on our weights and they told me not to get heavy again.

“It felt like doing what was best for me wasn’t what I needed to do. Like maybe this is the cost of being who I am and doing what we do. I just spiraled and I got worse than I’d ever been. That’s when you found me. I hadn’t eaten in two days and I was so hungry but I couldn’t make myself keep what I’d eaten down. I don't know how to stop doing this to myself and I want to stop but I just can't.”

Xiang takes a breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

Chan is impressed with how well Xiang has handled her emotions while explaining everything to him. Simultaneously, his heart is aching from the story she has told him and how well she’s handled her emotions. Chan can’t help but wonder how many times she has felt like the world is crashing down around her and he was none the wiser.

“When did this start? When did our manager- When did the company say you should lose weight?”

“... Late June?”

Nine months. Nine months Xiang has been dealing with her eating disorder. And before that, anxiety, depression, and personalization. Chan has his own qualms with anxiety and depression occasionally but he’s not even sure what depersonalization is. But as Xiang said, that’s a whole other can of worms.

“It’s just-,” Xiang looks for the right words to continue. “I’ve developed so much self-hatred. I never feel good enough. I never feel pretty or talented. Even with the mess my mentality has always been, I used to be able to be content with the music I make or the performances I give. Now, I just hate everything about myself. I wish I could just deal with this on my own and I'm sorry I've dragged you into this mess. But believe me I won't hold it against you if you want to back out now-"

"Sophie.”

Chan steps in front of Xiang to face her.

“I don't know how to prove to you that I will always be here for you.”

It hurts more than he would have thought when she lets out a tiny, humorless breath of a laugh, disbelieving. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the overcast sky.

“I‘m so tired of everything.”

She closes her eyes.

“I just want it to stop.”

“It will,” Chan says. “And you’re not going to deal with this alone anymore.  Know why?"

When Xiang lowers her head, Chan can see she’s barely holding back tears. She gives a minuscule shake of her head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Nearly two and a half years ago, Xiang stood in front of Chan in a recording studio. She’d come to tell Chan she should leave the group. He’d called her a quitter and wouldn’t let her walk out on the group.

“Why can’t you just let me do this?” she asked, not understanding how Chan can’t see the problems she’s causing.

“Because I’m not giving up on you,” he responded.

Xiang swallowed, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. Chan stood and wrapped her in a hug.

“And I’m not gonna let you give up on me.”

Xiang hesitated but looped her arms around Chan.

“We’re in this together, understand?”

Xiang smiled and let her head rest on his shoulder.

“I understand.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Because I'm not giving up on you."

At the riverside, Chan pulls Xiang into a hug, wrapping his arms securely around her shoulders.

“And I’m not letting you give up on me. We’re in this together, understand?”

Over two years later, Chan has kept his word. Before she’d started starving herself, before her mental state depleted further than it had ever been, he’d told her that they are a team and he won’t let her quit on him. And he’s kept to that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On the plane ride home to South Korea from America, Chan had comforted Xiang when she’d been anxious and fearful during turbulence. She’d thought about Chan. What he’d done for her and how he’d treated her.

Despite her self-loathing and her anxiety. And the way she’s convinced herself she’ll never be good enough. Or how she can only ever feel pretty on an empty stomach, hunger clawing at her insides in a painful way she’s grown fond of. Amidst it all, being next to Chan makes her feel safe.  Chan makes her feel safe.  Safety is something Xiang has been having a hard time finding for months now.

She realizes that if she could, she would never leave his side.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Here, beside Han River in Chan’s arms, she feels safe. She feels... loved. And the idea- the fact that Chan cares for her and has been by her side, even unknowingly, through all of this brings her to tears.

Xiang buries her face in Chan’s shoulder and wraps her arms tightly around him, crying hard into the material of his jacket. And Chan lets her. He holds her tighter against him and lets her cry, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head comfortingly. She’s safe here. She’s safe with Chan.

And she realizes that if she could, she would never leave his side.

[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x Reader) Pt. 1: Wild and a Quest

I had this idea and I thought it was fucking interesting and I wanted to write it

This will be in multiple parts as I made this first installment hecka long. Maul will soon be more heavily featured but for now, I just had to establish some stuff. 

Story summary: Reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, slow start

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Current read, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

.............................................................

The roar of the ship as it took off was deafening despite you being housed in the cockpit. Instinctively, you reached up to cover your ears and closed your eyes as gravity shifted. You couldn’t wait to be in the vacuum of space; at least then gravity wouldn’t even exist. A gentle pat on your forearm was enough to make you open your eyes and look to the side. To your right was Wild, an eleven-year-old zabrak-human hybrid, the last piece of evidence you had of your life before all this. He was the symbol of your union with him. Wild was your son. 

The carmine-colored, half-dathomirian, barely-tattooed boy was looking up at you with sympathetic saffron eyes, he knew of your deep-rooted hatred for liftoff. Gently, you smiled at the boy to ease his worry and offered a soft pat on his head, careful to avoid the tiny horns protruding from his skull. Wild didn’t return it and instead opted to grab your hand off of his head to hold it in his own before focusing on the viewport. You deflated at that as your heart suddenly ached. 

Wild was so much like his father that it hurt you sometimes, not only in looks though (although he was practically his carbon copy) but in personality; proud, serious, and protective with a cunning unrivaled by anyone else on the outside but a soft-spoken, gentle, curious and sometimes anxious boy inside. It was hard to remember that he was eleven sometimes-not the adult he pretended to be and not your little baby boy that used to cling to your leg all day. You just wanted him to be a little boy who was free to dream, explore, and play as he pleased but it seemed the force would not grant you your one wish. Instead, it took his father away from you before he had even got the chance to know of the remarkable gift he’d given you. You did suppose that Wild’s predisposed traits that bound him so tightly to the father he’d never known were a blessing in disguise. It had always served as reassurance that if anything ever happened to take you away from Wild, he’d be fine on his own.

...His own. It was a thought you never liked to dwell on. Wild was born at a delicate time in your life. You were 21 when you learned you were pregnant with the baby of a sith-lord and the news had been...startling to say the least. It had occurred to you one day while you were preparing to face the Trials that your cycle had been off. Deeming it odd enough to warrant a visit to the medbay, you sought out one of the healers. You’d instantly wished that you had chosen a droid instead as it was soon revealed that you were two months pregnant. You had to feign ignorance about knowing of a father at all. It had worked for a time as the issue was immediately brought before the council who were all in various states of shock. The worst reaction, you remembered, was that of your master. But, the council did not kick you out like you were certain they would have had they known of the baby’s heritage. Instead, the council believed your lie-that there was no father. Of course, they believed it. You were Ki-Adi-Mundi’s apprentice, chosen specifically by him due to your, as he phrased it, “natural and strong alignment with the light side”. You were a model padawan who would never even think of breaking the code, let alone to this extent. Your training was put on hold for the time being as the council awaited the birth of your baby, some Jedi even began to wonder if the child would be the prophesied ‘chosen one’ (though Qui-Gon, most notably, believed otherwise). It was then that you knew that your time with the Jedi was up. You formulated a plan. Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were being sent on a mission to Naboo to protect the queen. 

You begged your master to let you go with them as you had been cooped up in the temple for a whole month after the pregnancy announcement. Your master obliged, certain that no harm would come to you on the mission, and you were swift to join the grey Jedi and his stuck-up padawan. Your plan from there was to land on Naboo’s surface and disappear for a bit to get the Jedi off your back and to get in contact with him again. But, of course, that all went downhill and...you had seen your love be cut down by your fellow padawan. He wasn’t supposed to be there to your knowledge and now he was dead and you were still carrying his baby. Obi-Wan was swift to pick up on your anguish and even swifter to alert the council of your lies and treachery against the Order. You were ejected from the order and locked away in the temple prison to await the birth of your baby whereupon the Jedi would tear him away from you indefinitely. It would have been a fate worse than death for you. That is, had you not escaped and faked your death to get the Jedi off your back. 

Wild came soon after, being borne to a disgraced and presumed dead mother and a most definitely dead sith-lord father. Yet, you had done your very best to love him in every possible way as he had no other family besides you. 

It seemed that this was something your son was acutely aware of too as the young boy was fiercely protective of you just as you were protective of him. Case in point: the only other person in the room that could pose a threat-Wild’s own uncle, Saváge Opress. 

The seven-foot walking mountain of a zabrak had found you and your son on Tatooine whilst during one of your rare visits to the desert world. Your first meeting wasn’t pleasant. 

“You, woman, what is your name?” The low bass voice sounding from behind you would have been enough to make you run if not for the fact that your son was still in the store you had just left. Slowly, you moved your hand to one of your sabers concealed within the confines of your cloak before turning around. 

“Give me your name, dathomirian,” You spat at the goldenrod zabrak despite the fact he towered over you and could probably crush your skull with one hand, “and maybe I will give you mine.” 

He snarled, clearly displeased with the response but relented. “My name is Savage Opress.” 

You analyzed him for a moment, eyes raking up and down his form. He was big and strong and going by the saber hilt hooked on his belt, trained in the force. Was he a Jedi? Was he a sith? Had he been sent here to kill you? He was in for a surprise if he had. “Why are you speaking to me, Opress?” 

“You told me you would give me your name.” Savage growled, large hand landing on his saber. 

“No, I said that maybe I would.” You removed your lightsaber from your belt but ensured you kept it hidden from view. 

“I don’t have time for your games, woman.” 

“That makes two of us, good day, sir.” You hissed and turned to walk away, intent on looping around and meeting up with Wild to get off this miserable planet. However, that wouldn’t happen right now as your ears soon met with the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting. With an agitated sigh, you whipped out your own weapon and spun around just in time to meet your attacker; green blade clashing with red. Sith. Most likely his master’s new apprentice.

Savage was strong, physically, but you could feel that he was weaker in the force than you. That would be your only hope; let the force guide you while he relies on his own physical prowess. You met the male zabrak strike for strike, each one threatening to knock you off your feet with the force Savage fought with. The fight was grueling and you could feel the rustiness in each spin and block-you only ever used your lightsaber when training your son-and as it went on, one thought became abundantly clear; you weren’t going to win like this. You had to figure out a way to make the mountain stand still. Thinking on your feet, you fell back before taking a running start at Savage. You feinted to the right and used the wall to boost yourself over the behemoth of a man, twirling as you went until you landed behind him and shot a well-aimed kick to the back of one of his knees. The move was meant to bring Savage down to your level so you could cut his head off but when the blow landed, nothing happened. Startled, you froze which would prove fatal. 

Savage spun around and grabbed your ankle in one hand before roughly swinging you into the wall. The air was driven from your lungs as you felt your back connect with the sandstone of the building behind you. Savage released you, allowing you to crumple to the ground as you fought to breathe. You were granted little reprieve though as soon Savage was stooping down and roughly lifting you by your neck in one fist. Your feet kicked lamely at your attacker in your struggle for survival as your nails clawed at the back of Savage’s hand. 

“I’ll ask one more time, what is your name?” Savage growled low in his throat and tightened his grip. 

“Will you let me live?” You coughed out, looking Savage dead in the eyes which briefly reminded you of your son’s. Your son. You had to stay alive for him. 

“Maybe, if you are who I am looking for.” 

It seemed that that was as good a chance as any.

“Y/n, my name’s Y/n.” Savage’s necklace suddenly glowed an eerie blue and you were prompted to ask your next question. “Wha-What do you want with me?” 

“I’m looking for someone-my brother. I was told that you knew him, jedi.” 

Electing to ignore the incorrect title, you continued to talk. Maybe, if you lowered his guard, you could still make it out of this alive. “I know a lot of people but not a lot of them are zabraks.” Savage’s eye ridge quirked up in questioning. “But...if it’s who I think you’re looking for-he’s dead. Killed by Obi-Wan on Naboo twelve years ago.” 

“That’s what I was told too-but I have cause to believe he is still alive and I was told that you would be the one to help me find him.” 

No...impossible. “You’re....you’re a liar!” You screamed at the zabrak. “I watched him die! He’s dead-he won’t come back-he can’t come back no matter how much I-” 

“Mom?!”  A familiar pre-pubescent yet soft voice cut you off. Immediately your attention, as well as Savage’s, were on Wild who stood at the mouth of the alley with saffron eyes that blazed like molten lava. He had never looked more like his father than in that moment.

Savage looked at you, confusion and something else (regret maybe?) all over his goldenrod face. “Mo-?”

“Wild, run!” You cut Savage off and gathered enough strength to curl in on yourself and strike Savage in the face with both feet. The zabrak released you at once and you fell to the ground unceremoniously before summoning your lightsaber to you. Not wasting time, you ignited it and dove at Savage, ready to make him pay for his filthy lies. Savage was quick, though, and managed to block your blow with his own sword. However, what neither of you expected was for a second contender to join the match in the form of Savage’s nephew and your son wielding your old blue lightsaber. “Wild, I told you to run!”

“You also told me to never run from a fight!” The little boy shot back, pressing down with all the strength he had. Stubbornness. That was another trait inherited from his father and enhanced by your own strong will. With a roar, Savage launched both of you back, sending you to the ground and your son flying. You watched as his little body collided with the same wall you had been smacked against minutes ago and nearly lost it. Channeling all your anger, you reared on Savage and pushed him back with the strongest force push you could muster before immediately running over to your son. He had sat up and was clutching at the back of his head where you noticed a small cut. You were going to kill Savage; brother-in-law or not. 

“Wild, when I tell you to ‘run’, think of it as a tactical retreat. And for the record, I told you to know when to run from a fight.” You reprimanded quickly as you picked your son up and ushered him behind you. The two of you began to back away as Savage struggled to his feet. The two of you were almost to the entrance of the alley when the zabrak got a hold of his senses. 

“Y/n, wait, please.” Savage began, sheathing his lightsaber and holding out a hand to you in surrender. His yellow eyes flickered between your son and yourself, guilt prominent in his features. You found yourself pausing. “I know you do not believe me-”

“No, I don’t and frankly, you have given me no reason to. If...if Maul was alive, I would have found him.” You spat in anger at the arrogance of this zabrak. Did he think that you hadn’t searched? Did he think that you hadn’t cared for him? Did he not see the disproof standing behind you? 

“But you did not have the magicks of Mother Talzin.” Savage’s voice was soft now as he tapped the talisman around his neck. 

You were struck silent at that. He was of course correct-you hadn’t had the aid of his people. With a heavy sigh, you rose out of your defensive position and sheathed your lightsaber, much to the surprise of the two males. “Wild.” Your voice was soft, caring, and you could feel your progeny’s confusion as if it was your own. “Take everything to the ship. I’ll be there in a minute.” Wild hesitated for a moment and you expected to get some attitude later but for now, he just softly handed your second lightsaber to you and stalked off after sending a final glare at Savage. 

“Alright, you have my attention, Savage. What do you need?” You asked in a steely voice. 

“Everything you knew about my brother.” 

From there, the three of you had begun your search. Savage had explained his story and you had explained yours (he was almost overjoyed to know that he had a nephew). However, you both agreed that, for now, you wouldn’t tell Wild who Maul actually was in relation to him. This meant that Wild didn’t know that Savage was his uncle which led to the current distrust you were witnessing now. You hated not telling Wild but you didn’t want to give him hope that his father was alive to then rip it away from him when Savage’s wild goose chase proved to be just that. Now, you were riding in a cargo ship on your way to the trash planet, Lotho Minor.

You had landed a few minutes ago after Savage took control of the ship and were now faced with a dilemma. Did you go with Savage or stay in the ship with your son?

“Wild,” Savage’s booming voice called the young boy’s attention to him, however resentfully, “Stay with the ship. Your mother and I will explore.” 

“No.” Wild snapped immediately with a glare as his hand tightened around your own till his sharp nails started to dig into your skin. You sighed softly and turned to your son. 

“Wild, I’ll be fine. Savage won’t hurt me. Protect the ship, sweetheart, we’ll be right back.” You placed a soothing hand on the side of his face. His little red face grew more grave. He didn’t trust Savage, plain and simple. You wrinkled your nose at him before placing a peck on his forehead and pulling him into a smothering hug. “You worry too much, little man.” The boy protested at the display and loosely pushed you away but you had done your job as Wild seemed much more on board with the idea. “We’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone else on board, got it?” 

Wild sighed with an eye roll. “Yes, mother.” His tone was annoyed but, having raised the boy, you knew he was only exaggerating his feelings. You placed yet another peck on your son’s forehead and gently pinched his carmine cheek before striding over to Savage who had watched the whole interaction. Neither of you spoke until you were outside. 

“You’re good with him.” Savage piped up suddenly, his low bass a welcomed contrast to the wind whipping through the heaps of garbage. 

You were taken aback. For all the times Wild had been brought up in conversation with the older zabrak, your skill in parenting was never mentioned let alone complimented. “I should hope that I would be,” you began, uncertain where you were going with this, “I am his mother.” 

Savage made a funny noise in the back of his throat that prompted you to look up at him. “I-I just meant that…you’re...different than the nightsisters. They...they didn’t care if they had a boy.” Ah, the nightsisters. The infamous clan of witches that had bought and traded your unofficial husband long ago and continued to do with Savage. You prompted Savage to elaborate as you two began to walk. “They cared if they had a girl as she would stay with their clan but...if it was a boy, he was sent to us to be subjected to the same fate as so many men before us.” Savage’s eyes were clouded in thought as he relieved what was probably some awful memory. “It’s strange to see a boy be cared for is all.” 

“Dathomir sounds...awful. I can’t imagine what you went through, Savage.” You dared to lay a hand on his forearm, making the zabrak halt in his tracks. “But...but if Maul isn’t...but if Maul isn’t here to be found, you could have a place with us.” You smiled gently. “You are family, Savage. I see it and I’m sure Wild will see it as well.” 

Savage’s other hand came up to rest on the hand on his arm. There was a genuine smile on his face, for once. “Thank you, Y/n.” With a dip of your head, you resumed your walk. “Y/n?” Only to be stopped by the questioning lilt in Savage’s voice. “I never asked, how did you and Maul ever meet?” 

A wistful smile dared to dash across your face as your mind’s eye immediately conjured up the image of the stunning ruby red zabrak you’d come to love so dearly. “That, my dear brother, is quite the story...”

....………………………………

Next ->

[chocolate-parfait]

Childhood love MC - ikesen headcanons (Ieyasu & Masamune)

Ieyasu

Ieyasu was 4 years old when he got sent to the Imagawa clan as a hostage, leaving his parents and homeland behind. His captors barely ever paid him any attention, and when they did it was only to rage on him. The little boy spent his childhood being treated as an insect, a nobody and a burden, he couldn't trust anyone but himself. Or at least, that was how the story was until he met you, the daughter of an Imagawa vassal

Approaching him the first times was a very difficult task as you had to do it in secret and Ieyasu surely wasn't down to cooperate. As the days passed by your smiles started working their ways into his heart, melting the ice in his eyes just a little and occasionally inspiring him to mimic your actions. You were the only one in the whole castle that he could dare label as a genuinely nice person, and perhaps his only source of light and happiness

Despite the countless scoldings for your actions, you started visiting his room on a daily basis, and when your father forced you to stay away you stopped eating, refusing to touch your food unless you were with Ieyasu. Seeing the determination in your eyes and fearing you might actually die, it was decided to let you meet him once a week. After you updated the boy about everything that happened, he flicked you hard on the forehead while calling you a dummy as a deep blush spread across his features. No one had ever gone to such lengths for him, and at this point he was more sure than ever that you didn't do it out of pity, but because you truly enjoyed his company. He was so touched he had to fight back the tears, suddenly realizing how much you meant to him

And so your friendship continued until Ieyasu turned 17 years old and was allowed to go back to his clan. His 13 years long stay was the most horrible experience of his life and it filled his soul with hatred and a strong wish for vengeance, but you were a different matter. He didn't even consider you a part of the Imagawa clan. You were just you, his first friend, his first love, his only ally and weakness. But he was obsessed by the idea of strength, since being strong would have prevented people from treating him however they pleased, and after endless reflections, he convinced himself that he had to shut you out of his heart or else his soft spot for you would've caused his doom. It was a self-defense mechanism and as the months turned to years, he repeated to himself it countless times like a mantra, probably trying to convince that tiny little part of his heart that was still yours to let you go

The first time he met you again though, his resolve crumbled away, his heart stirring at the sight he so longed for. Following Nobunaga during an inspection in one of his domains that were property of the now fallen Imagawa clan, they arrived at a village not so far from where the blonde man used to be kept as an hostage. There, hosted at the mansion of an ex vassal, he saw you tending to the plants in the garden. Just like the flowers you were so focused on, your beauty had blossomed into a delicate yet breathtaking mix of features, all singular on their own; your eyes were as transparent and clear as the morning dew, your delicate lips as red as plump raspberries, your rosy cheeks framing your face in a perfect picture, supported by an elegant neck that emerged from a pink kimono. Shocked by the sight he had stopped walking, gaining a glare from Nobunaga, who on its part received a curt invitation to reach the chambers on its own as Ieyasu had now more important things to deal with

As the others warlords' footsteps grew distant, the head of the Tokugawa clan hurriedly made his way to where you were crouching down, stopping right in front of your figure. When you looked up and locked eyes with him, a confused wave of emotions took ahold of your heart, and before you knew it you had thrown your arms around his neck, trapping him in a tight embrace while breathing in his scent. Your love for him had never wavered but you would've never thought you'd get the chance to meet him again. Unable to resist the addiction to the other's presence, you offered as a guide for the warriors to travel across the land, therefore never leaving Ieyasu's side. The night before his departure, you went to his room to bid him farewell, but what you had least expected was for him to confess the feelings that were burning in his chest and then, after you accepted his confession with a fiery blush on your pretty face, he gently cupped your cheek with his warm hand and kissed you as the moonlight surrounded your fervent bodies

He had tried erasing you from his life and denying a love that was undeniable from the start. So now realizing the big mistake he had made, he had no intention of letting you go ever again, even if it meant marrying you the next morning or kidnapping you and taking you back to Azuchi with him. He wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of what he truly wanted. You.

Masamune

As the daughter of one of Date Terumune's most loyal vassals (Masamune's dad), it wasn't rare for you to stay at the castle while your father was out doing errands, battles and even wars. You don't remember the first time you had met the blue eyed little boy, and yet of one thing you were sure: you two became immediately friends. Despite his sometimes cocky behavior and his recklessness, you couldn't help but be attracted to him as he was born a leader. On the other hand your father always encouraged your friendship, though he always reproached you for using such a confidential tone with the future heir of the clan, when in truth you couldn't help it; you had been around him ever since you remember, and he was the one that actually asked you to drop the formalities around him

You two spent a lot of time together, whenever he wasn't practicing or studying he could be found dragging you along to join one of his wild shenanigans that, at a certain point, became just an excuse for him to show off as a way to express his obvious feelings for the much oblivious you. Everyone decided to let the two of you be since your family had been serving the clan for many generations already, so a potential union between the two would be well accepted

Though weird it may seem, your relationship truly blossomed after Terumune's death. It was a heavy blow to the boy's pride and psyche, sending him into a loop of guilt and regret. You stood by him during a dark moment of his life, and helped him go through the preparations for his succession. As the two of you grew closer and your feelings for each other got stronger, holding everything in eventually became impossible, causing you to share your first kiss only a month after his ascension as heir. It was very spontaneous and the day was just like any other. You sat by his side as you ate your lunch, then smiled at him for a comment he had made, and suddenly he met your lips with his in a painfully sweet kiss

Being just a pair of young teenagers, he decided to put off asking your hand in marriage until you were finally used to being together as a couple. You were more than fine with this, but as head of the Date clan Masamune had responsibilities to take care of, and after certain events he formed an alliance with the Oda clan, meaning he had to temporarily move to Azuchi

Despite not wanting to put any pressure on you, he preferred taking you as his wife before leaving for an undefined period of time, so one summer day he proposed to you, pouring his entire heart in what was one of the most nerve-wrecking moments of his life. Many year had already passed from your first meeting, and though your eyes were always the same beautiful glass beads as ever, your body went through a considerable amount of changes; you had gotten taller, your face became more mature while keeping its usual soft features, your voice grew more stable and delicate, your chest got bigger, and so many other things he could fill a thousand books by listing them all. The moment the words left his lips he saw such a pure joy painting your features that he was stunned into silence, barely hearing your answer. You were perhaps the best thing he could've ever wished for, and the thought of finally being bound to you for eternity made his heart tremble with anticipation. The official proposal was happily handled by him because everything he did was just a step closer to the fateful day. Nothing could stop him from making you his, and after you become husband and wife, he'll make sure you'll never live a boring day as long as he's around

[cheekysos]

Between Hate and Lust Part Four

Ashton Irwin x Plus Size Reader

Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on writing part four but there’s a handful of people interested so thank you to them. Definitely think this is the dirtiest thing I’ve written to date so I hope you guys like it.  I’m not writing this series to exclude any body type, shape, or size because everyone’s bodies should be accepted and celebrated. So I am very sorry if this in any way excludes anyone, that is not my intention. If there’s anything you’d like to read please leave a request in my asks and I will try my best to do it justice. If you have any feedback please let me know.

Summary: Ashton and Y/N go back to her place to finish what they started in the parking lot

Warnings: LOTS of smut, masturbation, oral sex, protected sex, dirty talk, swearing, very light bondage, and choking.

Y/N’s POV

Your legs were practically jelly walking to Ashton’s car. You still kind of hated him but you were desperate for more of him, to taste him and to feel him. It definitely wasn’t your proudest moment leaving your best friends wedding without telling anyone just so you could indulge in crazy hate sex but you were way beyond the point of caring, you’d do damage control once you came down from this high. You have never experienced an orgasm like that before. It’s possible it was because of the risk of it, the idea you two could get caught at any second or maybe it was because you had such a strong hatred for Ashton and there really is a fine line between hate and lust. Most likely it was simply just because of Ashton, how skilled and tentative he was with your body and how you reacted. 

Driving back to your place was torturous, you were conflicted with rethinking your decision and just reaching over and taking care of him right then and there but big girls and car sex is not always great, especially with a smaller car like Ashton’s. 

“Can see those wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours.” Ashton interrupted. “You thinking about how many times I’m gonna make you cum?” His massive hand started to knead at the meat of your inner thigh. He was so cocky and clearly still playing games. You reached for his hand and removed it from your thigh. He shot you a quick confused look as you brought his hand to your lips. You guided his two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and sucking. He shifted in the drivers seat when you removed them from your warm mouth. You spread your legs and pull aside your panties for him with your free hand while your other guides his coated fingers into you.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, “such a needy little thing. Can’t even wait ten minutes to cum again.” 

“Just shut up, before I do it myself.” You moaned. Shit ,you hated how sexy he was. 

“Then do it. Fuck yourself with my fingers, show me how to do it.” Ashton’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. He was driving you insane and he wasn’t even doing anything, but you did as you were told and slid down the seat making yourself comfortable. You lifted your leg slightly up onto the compartment of the door, gripping his hand tighter and began to fuck yourself with his perfect fingers. They were long and thick and filled you to the brim. You could feel Ashton stealing glances from the road probably too often to watch you. 

"Look at you, you’re insatiable. Think you can cum before we get there?” he questioned.

“Maybe if you shut the fuck up I could.” That was a lie, you hated how much Ashton’s dirty talk turned you on. 

“I know you’re lying,” he scoffed. “I can tell you like to praised, told how you’re such a good girl, how you take cock so well.” His voice was rugged and scratchy,  it sent a shiver down your spine. 

The knot in your stomach was ready to burst for the second time that night. You pushed Ashton’s hand firm against your pubic bone, desperate for some sort of friction on your throbbing clit. He could clearly tell you were close because he took over, allowing you to focus only on your orgasm which is exactly what you did. Before you knew it you were coming undone around him.

“Look at how wrecked you are with just my fingers can’t imagine what you’ll be like wrapped around my cock.”  

Ashton’s POV

The car ride back to Y/N’s felt like the longest car ride ever. She was driving you mad and your cock has never been harder, watching her in the passenger seat of your car, getting off using your hand. It took everything you had to not crash the car or pull over on the side of the road, but you meant it when you said you wanted to take your time and treat her right like she deserved. 

When she finally came you were just pulling up to her apartment. Your hands were all over her and she fumbled with her keys, cock pressed firmly against her voluptuous ass, lips latching onto her earlobe. 

“Open the goddamn door before I break it down.” you growled. 

She chuckled while she turned the key and opened the door. She spun around and attacked your lips. You kissed her back as you both stumbled around in the dark towards her bedroom. You pulled away from her and took in the sight. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips were pink and swollen, and her hair was disheveled but she looked as gorgeous as ever. 

“Turn around.” you whisper. She stepped out of her heels and turned away from you. You brushed her hair to the side and kissed down the back of her neck and slowly unzipped her dress. You peppered kisses across her exposed shoulders as you pushed her dress down her body. 

“Gimme your hands doll.” Again she complied without an backtalk. You removed your tie from around your neck and gently tied it around her wrists. 

“This okay?” You waited for her approval. 

“Yes,” she panted. “More than okay.” 

When she turned around she instantly dropped to her knees. You undid your belt and trousers more desperate than you would have liked. Within seconds your pants were around your ankles finally exposing you to Y/N for the first time and you’re almost positive you heard her whimper.  She looked up at you through heavy lustful eyes and licked her lips before she leaned towards you. She licked up the length of your cock all the way up to the tip, lapping up the precum pooling at your slit. Her lips surrounded the head as she slowly slid down your shaft and buried her nose against you. She felt absolutely incredible, so warm and wet, you actively had to focus on not cumming then. You gathered her hair as you slowly guided her. 

“I knew it, knew you’d take my cock so well. Such a good girl for me.” The moans she was eliciting from you were almost embarrassing but you couldn’t help it, she felt amazing. She steadied her pace, bobbing up and down on you and looking up at the entire time. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer if she kept this up.

You stepped back slightly so she could release your cock with pop, “up.” you panted. 

 She looked almost disappointed to not have you in her mouth anymore. As she got to her feet you quickly discarded the rest of your clothing and removed a foil packet from your pocket. You admired her as she stood in front of you in a matching black lace bra and panties. The shape and curve of her body was mouth watering, you wanted to touch and kiss every inch of her skin. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous you know that.” She looked down at your words.

You lifted her face and wiped the saliva collecting in the dip of her chin. “On the bed. On your knees and face the wall. ‘m gonna fuck you now Y/N.” 

Those pretty pink lips of hers parted, probably to voice a snotty remark but you shot her a domineering look and she instantly reconsidered. She climbed on the bed and faced the wall while you removed the condom from the foil  and hastily slid it onto your throbbing cock. You sauntered towards her and ran your hand down the length of her spin, her skin instinctively producing goosebumps from your touch. Slowly you looped your fingers in the waistband of her lace panties and pulled them down.  You couldn’t resist the urge to cover her ass in raised bright red hand prints. Her yelps were accomplished by soft little moans that made your cock twitch.

“Please. Just fuck me already.” Her tied hands reached for you behind her back. 

Your pushed her forward, her face pressed into the mattress and your hands splayed across her ass checks exposing her dripping core. Fuck your mouth watered at the sight. “Be patient or you won’t cum again.” You spoke against her center, inhaling her arousal before lapping it up, tasting her excitement.

“Oh fuck Ash.” she whimpered. 

You lined yourself with her entrance and teased her slit with the tip of your cock. “Tell me you want me.” you grunt. 

“I want you, I need you!” she begged.

 You slowly slid into her tight cunt and stayed there, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of her inside her. You hadn’t even  properly moved inside her yet and you could already tell you’ll be addicted to this feeling, addicted to her. When she started to push back against you you knew she was ready for you. Your hands latched onto the curve of her hips as you started to thrust in and out of her. 

Both of your moans and grunts filled the air while you fucked her. She looked ravenous like this, her face in the mattress, hands tied, ass in the air, and pussy lips gripping onto your cock like they were holding on for life. You grabbed onto her restricted hands and pulled her off the mattress, deepening and quickening your thrusts into her. Her back was almost flush against your chest as you took her from behind. 

“I...’m close,” she heaved. “Choke me.” 

Fuck, she’s definitely going to be the death of you. You wrapped a hand firmly around her throat and applied pressure. A few thrusts later she was crying out, her climax finally taking over. Her walls clenched around your cock, squeezing you so tightly she milked every drop of cum you had into the condom. The two of you stayed pressed against each other with your cock buried inside her for a bit while you both came down from your highs. You kissed her shoulder up the length of her neck until you caught your breath. 

Y/N’s POV

Ashton slid out of you after your third orgasm of the night. You mewled at the absence of him and fell onto the mattress. Ashton untied your wrists and you turned over on your back. He pulled off the used condom and tossed it into the bin. He crawled over to you and hovered over your body and kissed you softly. You were starting to like him and you hated it. 

“That was...incredible.” that stupid beautiful smile was plastered across his sweaty face. 

“It was alright.” you teased. “Like I said still hate you though.” 

He snickered. “How will I ever change your mind?” 

You ran your fingers through his chest hair, “A couple more orgasms would be a good start.”

[aros001]

First time read through light novel vol. 6. Random thoughts.

Hey, can you guess what my favorite episode of the anime is? Here's a hint: it's one apparently a lot of other Subarem shippers hate. I say f**k that! Episode 18 and this book made me love the idea of them as a couple even more! But we'll get to that in a minute.

“By conducting these negotiations, you bear Emilia’s fate on your shoulders. Naturally, everything you say affects her, and it carries the same weight as Emilia’s words. This is not a decision you should make lightly, nor are the words you say easily taken back.”

“...Ah, uh...”

“Moreover, I ask again—should you owe me in this matter, it will mean the defeat of the Emilia camp. Are you truly fine with this?”

It really brings into the focus the problem of Subaru calling himself Emilia's knight without thinking and why the actual knights took such offence to it. At best it was a gimmick with no actual meaning to him and at worst he wanted all the rewards that came with being a knight (or at least what he perceived as the rewards) and not any of the responsibility. That's basically the reality Crusch is making Subaru face; the true burden that is on the one who claims to be Emilia's representative. Being a knight isn't just a game or a fancy title. Whatever he does will heavily impact his lady's future and he never once considered that.

“You hate the Witch Cult. That’s the reason you approached Emilia, is it not?”

Damn.

“—You have not said, ‘I want to save Emilia,’ even once.”

Daaaamn. Obviously, we know the witch cult has nothing to do with why Subaru wanted to hang around Emilia, but it's really telling of his current state that that's what it looks like from the outside. His hatred for Petelgeuse is stronger than his love for Emilia.

The fact that Roswaal has twice now been absent during events that his presence could easily have prevented tragedy is incredibly suspicious. Especially during the mansion arc, where he only left the mansion during the loop Subaru had made a lot of progress in finding the shaman and thus, unlike the previous loops, could have warned him about what was about to happen. It feels like Roswaal is intentionally removing himself as to invite disaster upon his house and Emilia, likely to manipulate her and Subaru.

Priscilla is an oddity to me, because she really feels like someone I should dislike more than I do, as I tend to have an instant dislike for very bratty, entitled, and/or spoiled characters. I'm not sure what it is specifically that's lifting her up so much for me. It's not just the looks, because I've seen attractive female characters I've hated because of their brattiness (I think she and Bitch princess from Shield Hero share the same english voice actor, in fact). I think that, one, there is just this sense of fun and amusement when Priscilla's around, like I just want to see whatever she does next, and two, despite her attitude, I'm not really getting a feeling of shallowness from her. She doesn't feel like she's putting people down just to prop herself up. There is actual strength and depth to her.

Rem followed behind both of them, and he could hear noises coming from her nose every so often. Rem had a keen sense of smell, and she’d apparently picked up some kind of unsavory scent, staring at the back of the iron helm as they walked along.

Well, Al is from another world like Subaru, so it wouldn't be surprising if he also had the witch's scent attached to him, assuming his situation is anything like Subaru's.

“Don’t be silly. You’re Ram, right?”

“I am Rem... Forgive my rudeness, but where have you met Sister, Master Al?”

Rem explained how he’d mistaken her for her nearly identical older sister as she posed the question. However, Al made no reply. He raised up his one arm and touched his helm, busily poking the metal.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here...?”

Al sounded nervous, seemingly unable to process the information. The increasingly rapid tapping offered further proof.

“So you’re Rem...and your sister is Ram?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“This might be a weird thing to ask but...is your older sister alive?”

“...? I do not understand the meaning of your question. Sister is alive, as she should be.”

The instant Rem gave that answer, Subaru, who had been listening to the conversation in silence, felt goose bumps all over his flesh.

“—This ain’t funny.”

Well...that got a lot of theory wheels turning in my head. I was already wondering if Al had his own Return By Death ability, so it's certainly possible he'd met Ram before a restart, though why he'd mix up her and Rem, I'm not sure. Another possibility is that he's maybe experienced Subaru's own RBDs, so while he can't trigger the ability himself he retains his memories from the original timelines. We've seen timelines where Ram has died but also one back at the mansion where only Rem died. Of course, there's also the possibility this story is going to go full Futurama: Bender's Big Score and Al is going to turn out to be a future version of Subaru sent back to the past.

That damn whale is like something out of a horror movie. I don't tend to care for gory horror but I do like movies with unique monsters and killers, so I could easily see myself getting into a movie about a giant flying whale that appears in a dark fog and basically consumes the entire existence of whatever it eats, including its past presence in the world. It's not just memories being erased. The person themselves never was.

You can tell the story is doing a good job of connecting when I know full well that Subaru's going to have another RBD and that everything's going to be fine and I'm still tearing up over Rem basically sacrificing herself to hold off the whale and Subaru is realizing he's allowed her to die four times over.

Huge difference between the books and the anime, as I'm pretty sure in the anime Puck just killed Subaru in the room Emilia died in. There was no bringing her to the witch cult's hidden cave like there was here.

“Unable to even pass a single trial, not even facing a single Deadly Sin, bearing great expectations only to stumble over the first stone in her path...”

The madman looked down at the sleeping Emilia, sighing.

“—Ahh, you were lazy!”

Curious as to what he meant by all that. Now that I think about it, I don't think it's been revealed yet the specific reason the witch cult went after Emilia. Yes, she looks like the Witch of Envy but it that a bad thing or a good thing to the cult? Do these "trials" she was supposed to face have to do with the dragon and royal selection or the witch?

I don't think they said why Subaru can now see Petelgeuse's previously unseen hands. I think I saw a theory about how Subaru's connection with the witch grows stronger with each RBD, beyond just the scent, so he might simply has just accumulated enough EXP to finally level up into seeing them. Then again, I did love Subaru's mocking line to Petelgeuse that the witch has been "cheating" on him with Subaru, so it's certainly possible he just has more of Satella's affection than Petelgeuse and thus he gets more special perks from her.

And finally, we get to the talk between Subaru and Rem at the end. Funny thing, when I first started watching the anime, someone I knew who'd seen it before me told me that, one, it's very different from Isekai Quartet, which introduced me to the characters, so don't go in expecting a comedy, and two, that episode 18 has a Subaru moment that a lot of people hate. Given how the arc had been since before that episode and how Subaru kept falling further and further, I had no idea what was going to happen or what was worse than what he'd already done that'd get people to hate him so much.

And it turns out it's just because of a shipping war. I'm still not sure if I should feel relieved or annoyed. Yeah, I ship Subaru and Rem over Subaru and Emilia, but hating this part of the story just because he still loves Emilia? I feel like everything else except for that one line gets ignored (the line I'm avoiding saying because I don't want a bot to flag this post) and that the lack of all context except Subaru loving Emilia while Rem loves him destroys a lot of why the scene works.

There's just so much to talk about with why I love this part between Subaru and Rem. I'm a big fan of superhero stories and a classic trope I love is when things get dark and everything is brought to its lowest point...only for the hero to make a comeback. And Subaru... The man is broken. He's given up. Not only has he experienced death, failure, and futility multiple times, he's seen the people he cares about be completely slaughtered, with Rem dying, being mutilated, and even erased to protect him and Emilia, the woman he loves, dying directly because of him. He's powerless to change anything, or at least everything he does change seems to just make things worse. He sees himself as selfish, greedy, and arrogant; that he never actually cared about anyone other than himself. He's just spewing all this very justified self-hatred...and Rem counters it perfectly, not saying a single thing that isn't true about what she loves about him. Last volume had her imagining running away with Subaru, so the possible life with him she talks about isn't just something she's pulled out of the air. It's something she's considered and wants, which means it has actual weight when she turns him down.

I think another reason Rem connects to Subaru so much is because she's no stranger to self-hatred. She's also seen her own existence as a blight on everyone and everything around her. That she's selfish and terrible. And the person who helped pull her out of that state, at least somewhat, and get her to start liking herself was Subaru, which is what she's doing for him now. It's what I love so much about the relationship between these two. It's not just that they've saved each others' lives. They've helped each other in incredibly personal ways, despite the fact that neither fully knows what the source of the other's pain is. Subaru doesn't know what Rem felt as she watched Ram's horn get cut off. Rem doesn't know about Subaru's RBD and constant failures. They didn't need to. They simply knew the other needed help and they gave it, with no strings attached. It's why, despite me shipping them together, I'm not upset that Subaru doesn't return Rem's love (yet?) in the same way. There was a great bit of art I saw of the moment, and the words alongside it were "I didn't say I love you to hear it back. I said it so that you would know." Despite her still having some issues, being a little too subservient and obsessed with Subaru, I can believe Rem's love for him is real. When Subaru hated himself and believed everyone else did too, Rem told him that she loved him, not to get anything back out of it, but simply because she wanted him to at least have that to hold onto.

Rem was clearly at least a little upset at the end of their talk, and I can see it being some regret that she turned him down or that he does still love Emilia more, and I'm fine with that. She did the right thing and she is happy the real Subaru is back, but her being a little sad afterwards keeps her human (even if she's a demon).

Honestly, while I do ship them, I think both did make the right call. If or when they hook up, it should be when there's no lingering doubts or regrets they're carrying with them. Where they can have a future where they can smile together and with everyone in their lives they love and can't just abandon. Plus, I want to see Ram as an aunt to Subaru and Rem's kid! That sounds amazing!

And Subaru saying he loves Emilia, even after Rem poured her heart out to him...well, yeah, of course he does. He just found out Rem loves him and has had no time to process it (he was trying to run away with her out of fear and guilt, thus why she turned him down). If his feelings for Emilia were that easily swayed then it'd be hard to say that they were ever that strong or real to begin with, and thus what would have been the point of everything he's been through? It's not like he said it to hurt Rem. Hell, here and in the anime he sounds pretty apologetic as he says it, because he knows it'll hurt her to hear it and he doesn't want that. But it is the truth. So I'm not going to get mad at him for it. It's consistent with his character and everything he's been through and lead to great character moments for both him and Rem. What's there to be angry about?

But yeah, there was a little bit of it in the last chapter but I'm soooooooo looking forward to next volume. I remember just the feeling of hype and "F**k yeah!" going through my chest on my first watch of the anime. Subaru, after hitting his absolute lowest point, pulling himself together with Rem's help and gathering up everything he's got to fight back against the previously hopeless situation and save the day. It made all that heartache and misery so worth the wait.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gr9y77/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_6/