#they feel genuinely weighed down/troubled/hurt by their situation

[itspileofgoodthings]

Crash landing on you is just like *most romantic scene you’ve ever seen in your life, the boys being cute and funny, women supporting women North Korea edition, evillest snake villain of all time, Se-ri’s toad family being toads, most romantic scene you’ve ever seen in your life—

[cloudwisp]

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 · 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬

contents: hurt/comfort. wriothesley cheering you up after a rough morning. 900 wc.

Sometimes you wonder if Wriothesley truly does see and hear all—much like his omniscient reputation where he always seems to know what goes on in the Fortress of Meropide every minute of every day.

But he doesn’t need his stream of intel to know that something’s wrong when you enter his office to share a nice meal and freshly brewed cup of tea with him during lunchtime. From the slight slump in your posture and the soft, weary sigh you exhale just seconds before you offer him your sweet smile and plant a greeting kiss upon his lips, he easily figures that your morning didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped.

He observes you for a moment as you place the takeout on the table and situate yourself on his velvet couch and he gathers his scattered paperwork into a neat stack. He can tell that whatever happened before coming here is still weighing heavily on your mind, and he doesn’t like it when you force yourself to smile. “What’s got you down, sweetheart?”

You hadn’t realized you were lost in thought when you turned toward his direction, and much to your surprise, he’s bent at the knee to meet you at face level to give you his full and undivided attention. You muster another smile and shake your head. “Hm? It’s nothing.”

Try as you might to hide your feelings, Wriothesley doesn’t believe a word of it. Not for one second. His tone of voice softens as he gently finds your hand to hold and his thumb rubs small circles over your skin. “Come on, I know something’s wrong. Don’t shut me out.” His other hand reaches up to brush strands of hair away from your face and tenderly tuck them behind your ear.

There’s no secret you can keep from him—he notices every little detail when it comes to you. He loves you more than life itself and he cares deeply about you and believes that his duty as your boyfriend was to ensure your safety and happiness. And so he looks at you, waiting in silence until you’re ready to confide in him. Like he knew if he waited, the truth would eventually come out.

You feel a wave of comfort wash over you when he cradles your cheek in his hand and you lean into the warmth of his touch. After a breath, you decide to tell him about what transpired at your workplace in the morning. How your boss keeps assigning you small and tedious tasks when you already have a full plate and deadlines to meet yet he refuses to hear anything you have to say.

Wriothesley listens intently to your venting and he nods agreeably with you. “And you’ve already explained to him that what he’s demanding is a little extreme, right? You’ve been trying to tell him this, but it’s still not sinking in?” He takes your sigh in defeat and your head falling forward as your response. “That would make anyone upset, sweetheart.”

He knows that any mentions of him wanting to have a friendly chat with your supervisor is only going to further upset you, so he’ll keep that to himself and quietly take care of it in his own time because he doesn’t intend to dismiss it. He would hate to see you in a troubled situation like this in the foreseeable future, and if he’s able to pull some strings behind the scenes then he’ll do anything within his power to make your life a little bit easier.

You perk up when you feel him lay a kiss on the top of your head and he returns to his full height, making you crane your neck at him curiously when you make out his smirk in the dim lighting. He offers you his hand and nods behind him. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.”

Your heart melts at his sweet gesture and you allow him to lead the way. With a few strides to his desk and quick work of his hands, a soft and romantic melody flows from the record player. A small laugh escapes you and he sees your real, genuine smile for the first time today. He chuckles when you begin to make sense of his plan to lighten the mood, and he reels you in by the waist and holds you close to him as you both start to slowly sway to the lovely tunes.

The ever-present smile on your face means that it’s working, your head gently rests against his broad chest and your sighs become one of contentment—all of your worries and frustrations fading away into nothingness. It’s just you and him, a feeling of safeness and belonging found in his embrace as his love wraps entirely around you.

“You know, I didn’t peg you for a dancer.” You tease, gazing back into those deep whirls of blue that hold all of his adoration and affection for you. If only you knew the depths of his feelings, perhaps he’ll save that conversation for another day. 

A quiet and happy hum sounds from his throat and he presses himself closer to you, giving your hand a light squeeze. “What can I say? Love makes you do all sorts of things.”

[bisexualiteaa]

Getting interrupted 🤭

CW: smutty 18+! Suggestive themes, light mentions of/implied smut, getting caught, possible errors and possible OOC scenarios. Otherwise, enjoy! 🥰

John "Soap" MacTavish

- he was a sucker for someone in uniform, so it was no surprise that he would come and constantly visit you down at medical where you worked. It's how you both met and got together after all, so despite the pain and occasionally bad memories that came with it, it still held a place in his heart because you were there.

- he'd never admit it, but sometimes he would get himself hurt on purpose just to visit you, he always loved to see the smile on your face as you would shake your head and rest your hands on your hips before fixing him up perfectly, always having the cure to his every injury or ailment.

- sometimes these were the only moments where he'd get a chance alone with you, enjoying the way you'd always make a little time for him to talk and enjoy each others company for a little while afterwards.

- no one knew you guys were together, everyone knew he had a crush on you because, quite frankly, he wasn't very good at hiding it, but he didn't really want to either. But for the sake of your job, he didn't want to reveal anything should it get you in trouble.

- "you never stay out of trouble, do you?" You asked with a playful grin as you'd just finished stitching up a small gash on his arm. "If I stayed out a trouble, I'd never get the luxury t' see you" he replied with a flirty tone, making you chuckle. "Just be more careful please, I need you in one piece" you replied, kissing his cheek as you sat next to him, having just patched up his arm. "I will, don't worry your pretty head lass, I'll always come back t' you" he assured, making you smile and hum in appeasement before you leaned in, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss. His hand came to cup your cheek as you held his other one in your own, fingers intertwined as you shared in your moment together. When you two were alone together, the world finally felt at peace, no wars to think about, no stress weighing down on you, all you needed to think about was your Johnny.

- So it was no shock that your kiss took a turn to something a little deeper, a sigh leaving you as your free hand rested on his collarbone. "Careful bonnie, go on like tha' and I'll be walkin' outta here with a whole different problem" he said, making you giggle. "Wouldn't half mind fixing that either, too bad you don't know how to keep quiet" you quipped with a grin, making him laugh at your remark. "Cheeky bugger" he replied with a matching grin before pulling you in again, kissing you as if tomorrow you'd be gone.

- But sadly, even the best moments must come to an end, neither of you were expecting the way it had however.

- "Sorry to bother doc, got room to squeeze in a- woah!" Spoke Gaz as he pulled back the curtain, seeing your form loomed over the side of the exam bed, kissing his comrade. You gave a short gasp as you both jumped apart, blushing wildly after being caught red handed. "Shit, I'm SO so sorry!" You spoke, bumping into your cart in your panicked frenzy as you tried to back away and button your uniform back up as to not look suspicious, but it was already too late.

- "Sorry Gaz, appointment got prolonged. Doctors, am I right? Gotta poke around an' check everywhere for some reason" Johnny spoke, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a slight blush but trying to joke his way out of things, as per usual. Gaz gave a chuckle. "Explains why you come down here so often. Here I thought you were just trying to get a good record built up for disability, didn't know you had a Dr. Feel Good situation goin' on" he teased with a grin. "I'm gonna get in so much trouble.." You muttered, holding your face in your hands out of embarrassment. "Relax doc, your secret's safe with me. I promise. It's about time you finally went for" Gaz assured you before offering a genuinely happy smile to Johnny. "I know all to well of the draw of the uniform myself" he added, looking towards one of the other doctors, her offering a giggle and flirty wave his way. "Well I'll be damned" Johnny spoke with a chuckle. "And looks like she's got an opening, so you two just earned yourself some more alone time" Gaz said, making you and Johnny both chuckle. "I owe ya one" Johnny spoke before Gaz walked away, turning back to you as you closed the curtain again, alotting you both some privacy for just a little bit longer.

König

- You were in his room, laying in bed together, enjoying the time alone after months of him being away.

- It started out innocent enough, just enjoying a movie together, but one innocent kiss turned to two, and when wandering hands found their way down your sides to your ass, playful giggles soon turned to quiet moans and it wasn't long before things turned just a little more heated.

- You were on top of him, straddling his lap as his kisses began littering down your neck, his large, rough hands at your hips moving you back and forth against him. A quiet moan and sigh fell from you, both of you doing your best to keep quiet as not to raise suspicions.

- "How I missed you, schatz" he told you, making you smile with drunken love in your eyes. "Missed you too, Kö" you replied sweetly, your lips now trailing down his neck to his bare chest in a way that he swore injected fire straight into his veins.

- You were topless as you sat there straddling him, indulging in one of those moments of kissing one another deeply, only stopping at the feel of each other smiling before resuming. Light, breathy giggles and quiet sighs of pleasure leaving you as you both were caught up in the heat of the moment.

- That was when you both heard the knock at the door, making you both jump. "Shit" you said quietly but in a panic. "Hide" he replied, getting up to put on a pair of pants, allowing you some time to scramble to grab your shirt and any trace you were here and hide in his bathroom, staying dead silent as you did.

- You heard the sound of him talking to Captain Price as you were hidden, relief washing over you once the door had finally closed and he walked away. You peaked back out from the bathroom, seeing König look at you as the look of panic finally fell from his face. "Close call" you spoke with a grin. "Way too close" he replied as you came back to him. "Ya know, if you just came over to my place, we wouldn't have to sneak around and worry about getting caught" you mused, making him chuckle as he leaned down. "Maybe I like the thrill a little bit" he admitted, making you giggle lightly before kissing him once more, your arms draped over his shoulders as you did.

- "Just keep it down in there" Price's voice spoke from the other side of his door, making you panic once more. "König! This is why we should be at my house!" You said, face red as a beet from fluster, and König couldnt help but grin at your embarrassment. Price gave a laugh as he walked away.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- Everyone knew you were his, he made it very clear that he would break the neck of anyone who would dare try to have a piece of you, or even look in your direction with malintent.

- He didn't need PDA to show it either, when you both were out with his comrades, or out in public, a protective arm laid around your waist yes, but even when it didn't, all it took was one look from Simon for someone to deeply reconsider their intentions with you.

- So one night, when you were both coming out to his truck for a smoke from a night out drinking with friends, the liquid courage seeping through your veins, you decided to push his buttons a little.

- There he stood, leaned against his truck, having just finished taking drags off of his cigarette before putting it out with his foot. His balaclava was still pulled up to rest on the bridge of his nose, showing off the lower half of his face, so you took the chance.

- You smiled as he grinned when your fingers slid along his jaw and up under the balaclava just a little, keeping it up so that you could kiss him. The taste of smoke, tobacco, and whiskey mixed together in a taste that was just so *him.* You couldn't help the surge of butterflies that came through you as his hands rested on your hips, the way he kissed you always left your mind reeling as they were always so intimate, so shameless.

- "Just couldn't wait, could ya?" He asked, making you chuckle as you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up from the drinks buzzing in you as well as the heat that always burned in you anytime he kissed you. "You know what bourbon does to me, and you know what *you* do to me" you replied with a playful grin, making him chuckle once more as you said it, poking his chest to prove your point before dragging your finger down some. "I'm very aware" he replied.

- Your finger looped into his belt, giving a strong tug to pull him closer to you, your lips just centimetres apart now before you closed the distance once more. "You're playing a dangerous game, lovie" he spoke in a low tone, making your grin only stretch wider. "That so? Gonna put me in my place then?" You challenged bravely, making his eyes hold a different intensity. Hunger, a predatory one at that. "Get your ass in the truck. Now" he ordered.

- Needless to say, it was no shock to him that you both managed to find your way in the back seat of his truck, music playing just loud enough in the background to add to the atmosphere as your panting from the deep kiss filled the air in the car.

- You grinned far too devilishly as you rolled your hips in time to the beat of the song, enjoying your moment of power over him. But he was there to remind you that even if you were on top and straddling him, that did not, by any stretch of the imagination, mean you were in control. His hand came to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugged it back, making your head dip back as he did. You gave a sinful moan as he did, roughly thrusting his hips up into you. "Your misbehavin' has gotten a bit out of hand, love. Someone oughtta teach you some fuckin' manners" he damn near *growled* in response, making you whimper as his hips stilled completely. "Gonna be good f' me? Stop bein' a fuckin' brat?" He asked, making you nod your head yes vigorously, earning another yank on your hair and a powerful thrust up into you. "Answer properly" he ordered. "Yes sir, gonna be good for you, I promise!" you let out, his hand leaving your hair as he started his pace up again. "Then be a doll and take it" he spoke, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continued his brutal pace.

- Anyone on the outside wouldn't have known, the music, not too loud to be suspicious, but perfectly loud enough to cover your joint symphony of moans, pants, and grunts, paired with the sounds of skin against skin. So Soap being none the wiser, thought it'd be safe to go to Ghost's truck to tease you both for being gone for so long.

- Then a hand came to the foggy window, smearing enough of the condensation away to reveal the both of you in the back seat. What he wasn't anticipating was the sight of you on top of him, fully clothed thankfully, but it was clear what was going on. "Shit!" You exclaimed when you saw Soap's eyes widen before he looked away, knowing he'd be in deep shit for catching you both. Simon's eyes followed yours to the window, catching sight of the reason why you were hiding your face in your hands. A devious grin came to his lips, deciding to roll the window down some, not too much to show too much, but enough to send you into a panic. "Si! What the hell are you doing??" You asked, making the scot give a chuckle. "Was comin' t' check an' see if you two were still alive, but clearly you're takin' more than a smoke break" he replied. "Started off as one anyway.." You spoke with a nervous look, making him chuckle once again before turning around and walking back. "Try not to kill 'er" Soap spoke before walking back inside.

- You certainly learned your lesson that night, hiding your face that burned bright red as you left the back seat, Simon of course delighted in your torture as you both went back inside to sit back at the table, getting to take in all the knowing grins from his friends as they all teased you for the rest of the night. To Simon's standards of course, he'd never let anyone take it too far. ❤️

[thepenultimateword]

...Arranged Marriage for (Civilian Identities of) Villain and (heroic) Sidekick?

Disclaimer: I definitely know that arranged marriages are often happy and healthy and completely normal for many people. When Sidekick refers to their arranged marriage with Villain as not a "regular" marriage, it has to do with their own outlook of their situation, and not my personal views on the subject.

Sidekick noticed the bruise right away. A perfect shoeprint on their new spouse's cheek, suspiciously alike to the one Hero struck under Villain's left eye earlier that night.

Everything Sidekick had suspected and ignored over the last month came crashing down like a tidal wave, pressing down heavily on their shoulders, crushing the breath right out of them.

"What happened?" they managed through constricting lungs.

"Nothing." Spouse tugged their chin-length hair in front of their face as they slid off their shoes and workbag. "Is there dinner?"

"You have a shoe print on your face," Sidekick said, unsure why they were pressing for an answer they really didn't want. "That's not nothing!"

Spouse shot them a mildly annoyed glance before swiping past them and poking around the contents of their fridge themself. "If you want the truth, I'm being bullied at work."

Bullcrap.

But what was Sidekick supposed to say? Prove it? I know you're lying? I know who are you?

Anything they said could immediately be turned against them, and the last thing they needed in this already tense arrangement was for Spouse--Villain--to uncover their secret identity.

"Are you ok?" they said instead, surprised that it slipped out so easily. Even with a small semblance of worry. It was worry for themself of course, for a future where they shared living quarters with a villain who recognized them as an enemy. Needing to watch their back every second of the day, keeping one eye open while they slept.

It shocked them when Villain's face softened.

"Hurts a little." They closed the fridge door, hunger forgotten, and ambled a little closer.

Sidekick fumbled internally for the correct response. What would they do if this was a regular marriage? One where they hadn't each weighed the benefits to their families against their personal feelings. One where Spouse wasn't Villain, and Sidekick didn't know.

Sidekick ghosted the edges of the bruise with the back of one knuckle. "It's a nasty one. Do you need me to beat anyone up?"

Villain's eyes sparked amusement. "I'd like that. But I wouldn't like you getting into trouble for me."

"Since when do you care about that?" Sidekick said, a little harsher than intended.

Villain cocked their head.

Shut up, Sidekick!

"Is this about me exposing your late-night comings and goings to your parents during our engagement?"

Actually, in the wake of other problems, Sidekick had forgotten all about that incident, for as infuriating and stifling as it had been at the time. They had been unable to help Hero on their patrols for over a month. But Villain had given them an out, so they shouldn't squander it.

"I wasn't allowed outside past 10 until the day we were married. What did it even benefit you?"

Villain stepped a fraction closer. "At the time I was upset with our situation. My family's money for your's reputation seemed an unbalanced, unworthy trade for my life. I took it out on you. And that was wrong." Their fingers crept along Sidekick's wrists, holding them light and gentle in front of them. "Forgive me?"

Sidekick slid out of their grip and took a cautionary step out of the range of soft, green-eyed charm.

"You haven't given me many opportunities for forgiveness. We barely even see each other."

"Not all my fault is it?"

Sidekick's stomach lurched. They thought they'd been sneaky about their absences from home; if they weren't waiting for times when Villain was out of the house or asleep, they at least always had a genuine errand to complete with it to excuse them.

"I have... Zumba," Sidekick said and immediately cringed. Zumba? All the time? Even at midnight?

"Whatever it is you have...or I have, I think we should make some changes."

Sidekick raised a brow. "Changes?"

"Dinner, every night, and at least one date a week."

Sidekick stared, mouth agape. They hadn’t been married long, but this was the first indication they’d given Sidekick of wanting to try for any sort of amicableness.

“Why?” They knew it sounded strange, it was stranger continuing as they were, but they couldn’t shake the suspicion growing in their gut.

“Because like it or not, we are married. And I want to love my spouse. And…from what I know of you…that doesn’t seem an impossible feat.”

Sidekick had to resist the urge to counter. This was the best thing. Hiding their identity in a comfortable relationship was probably easier than in a tense one. That was how Sidekick discovered Villain after all, the constant questioning, distrust, and watching giving way to another all to familiar persona.

“That seems…reasonable,” they said.

Villain smiled. “Why don’t we pick a day for date nights? A day where we don’t make other plans.” They’re smile grew. “I’ll try to schedule around your Zumba.”

They definitely didn’t believe that lie.

Wait. This was an opportunity. If Villain was out with them, they weren’t causing arm to the city. Sidekick was still helping Hero, just…less conventionally.

“Fridays?”

Villain pondered that moment, probably thinking about how much they enjoyed ruining Fridays for everyone else with their chaotic schemes.

“Works for me.”

Sidekick nodded brusquely. “I'll get the first aid kit."

“You’re patching me up?” Villain said, sounding amused and thrilled for some reason.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason. Thank you.”

The genuineness in their voice caught Sidekick off guard. They had to shake themself back into motion. “You’re welcome. Um…there’s some left over spaghetti in a bag on the bottom shelf if you want to warm it up. If you’re still hungry that is.”

With that, Sidekick retreated, trying hard not to think about how they were sharing food with a criminal, and how they didn’t completely mind it.

[frecklystars]

Wow, 32 asks. Thank you guys so much 😭😭 last night was one of the worst shifts I ever had at work. I feel like i keep reverting back to a year ago when everything was fresh. it's been extraordinarily difficult the past couple of months but it always eases the ache when I read nice messages. it genuinely calms me down a lot when other people tell me it's gonna be ok. so thank you to everyone who took the time to do that for me ;-;

I'm gonna be honest, I feel super hopeless. I am not getting joy from anything right now. Drawing, socializing, watching movies, listening to music, I'm feeling *absolutely nothing*. I am triggered by the SMALLEST fucking things that I thought I was getting better at handling. I'm having trouble wearing skirts again. I'm flinching around the color pink when I was doing SO much better with it. For the last nine days, I haven't gone three hours without having a panic attack. I'm not sleeping. My flashbacks are lasting longer. I'm having out of body experiences again for the first time in almost a year. I feel so hopeless. I told myself one year ago "hey I feel like I'm dying right now my ptsd is so fucking bad but! hey! one year from now, I'll feel better! this will feel so far away from me!" but I don't. I don't feel better. I don't think it's possible to feel better bc I'm too broken. It's been over a year and I don't feel like it's possible for me to make progress.

My Barbie/Ken anniversary is coming up and I was excited for the first couple of weeks, but right now I just... feel absolutely nothing. I am so, so, so severely depressed and my anxiety is getting worse every day. I need help out of my unsafe situation so fucking bad dude it's just gonna kill me. I'm so scared this whole thing is gonna genuinely kill me. I wish I could talk about it but I don't want to scare people but at the same time, it's so bad and it's weighing on me so heavily and I am so fuckign tired of dealing with this every single day

I don't know if I'm gonna go offline or not, bc my problem isn't even online. so... I don't see how being offline would help much. I just feel like I'm supposed to do SOMETHING, literally ANYTHING to feel something. Going offline last time made me feel significantly worse, so maybe that shouldn't be my next step. But I feel nothing when I'm blogging right now. I tried making a Jacob edit the other day and I felt no joy. I want to be filling up my queue for the 21st, all of my Barbie and Ken photos and gifsets. I should be writing Barbie and Ken love notes. I should be making video edits again! but I feel nothing!!! This is the one and only anniversary that actually matters to me this year - sorry to the other 12 Ryan F/Os who have anniversaries but THIS ONE is THE most important one, because these two characters are the F/Os that have helped me the most with my abuse trauma/cptsd. They're the whole reason why I started self shipping again. I want to celebrate that. I want to be excited about it. I am just so fucking numb.

I NEED to feel something for this anniversary, I miss celebrating F/O anniversaries! I don't get to do that anymore since self shipping was ruined for me! Since my main F/Os were ruined for me! I deserve to have a good time with my new F/Os!! I am a good person and I am kind despite all the bullshit I've been through and I work really hard to try to heal from shit! I try to stay positive and I try to help people and I!!! Deserve!! To have a day where I feel good with my F/Os without reliving every single horrifying vile thing that someone did to me! but I feel so empty right now and it hurts! I was excited a couple of weeks ago when I was planning all the activities i was gonna do on the 21st, like a restaurant and a movie and baking and throwing a party with my friends, but now?? Nothing. Absolutely NOTHING in my heart. I feel so goddamn empty. I am so depressed. I really really feel like I can't get better. It's been over a year and I am incapable of healing from my trauma and I don't know what to do about it. I am trying so many things to heal!! I'm going walking, I'm eating way healthier and cutting sugar to see if that helps clear my head a bit more, I'm getting sun, I'm drinking so much water, I'm exercising, I've cut my screen time significantly and reading more often, I'm hanging out with my friends as much as I can, I am trying everything in the book and I feel like a zombie just sitting here and rotting to death, going through the motions and reliving my trauma in my head over and over and over and over and over and over again and I can't get any fucking peace. It's like everybody in the world is living their days while the planet is spinning but I am stuck in the same spot reliving the most horrific bullshit imaginable over and over and over. I feel like I've lost almost 2 years of my life to trauma. I don't feel like I've aged, I feel like everything happened yesterday. I feel like I'm stuck in one spot while everybody else is walking forward and I can't move.

Sorry to ramble I didn't mean to turn this into a vent post but idk what else to do. I don't know if I should go offline on my actual anniversary or maybe a couple of days leading up to it?? Or maybe I'm supposed to BE online and blog about the F/Os to see if that helps me feel better?? Being offline made me feel worse. But being online isn't helping me either. Dude I don't fucking know. I need to work on some crafts or something. I need to make a BarbieLand diorama and paint it. I'm gonna bake heart shaped cookies for the first time this weekend. I'm gonna invite my friends over and we're gonna have a party on Sunday and watch the Barbie movie together. I don't know what else to do but I have to just... keep trying I guess even though I feel nothing while doing these things, it's better than doing nothing

If anyone has advice or something, it's more than welcome. Or even just a "wow, that's rough, buddy". I'm sorry for being negative, I try to remain positive on this hellsite but it's so hard right now. Thank you again to everyone who wrote me a nice message last night when I was hurting. I'm sorry I'm gonna probably be asking for encouraging messages a few more times in the next few weeks bc supportive messages are the only things that have been effectively (affectively?) helping me lately

[iznsfw]

hii can u make fluff with shen xiaoting?

This Too Shall Pass

Kep1er's Shen Xiaoting x Male/Female Reader Fluff

Sometimes you can feel the tears making your throat tighter, but the feeling of the sobs making the invisible burden on your shoulders weigh more is more frequent than that recently.

Your room is wide enough for your bed and closet to occupy with extra space for recreation, but today it feels narrow. But yesterday it was like this too, was it not? The walls seem to close in around you, and no matter how much you try to hide under the duvet, everything still feels out of place. Tight. Unmoving. Miserable.

How many days has it been like this? Maybe this is the twenty-seventh day. Wait no, it could just be the fifth. But you wouldn't need to keep count anyway, you think—this feeling is eternal.

And even with the endless days of feeling like this, you still wouldn't know where you're headed the day after. Maybe still in bed sobbing till your eyes are dry? Or would it be different?

You are not even sure you would be there to see it.

Your troubling thoughts are interrupted by the door of your room being thrown open. You sit up in alarm, looking around anxiously to try and keep your situation decent for the eyes of others. You hope the light does not bring attention to the pillow stained with your tears.

"Wait, hi. Why didn't you kno—"

"Whoa, you okay?"

Oh.

It's just Xiaoting.

It's just Xiaoting.

That's when the tears start to flow.

They stream freely down your cheeks like a river. Large, fat drops of sadness sliding down your face and onto your neck. You find it funny how you'd know where your tears are headed if they were a river but have no idea where you will be.

You bury your face into your hands and wish you weren't such a crybaby. Wish everything is easier and doesn't hurt as much as it does. But there exists no fairy godmother or genie coaxed out of a lamp who would grant these painful wishes.

No one.

But there is Shen Xiaoting.

"Hey, it's alright."

Suddenly her arms are around you. Though the way they wrap around you is probably tighter than the feeling of the walls closing in, this tightness feels comfortable. You even savor the feeling, seeking more of it by shifting more into her embrace.

You wonder why it feels different.

Maybe it's because Xiaoting's angelic face holds no grudges, no anger. The smile that rests on her lips is soft and genuine; the only time it disappears is when she leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Comfort.

Wait, no. It's probably because of the way her hand rubs comforting patterns on your back and arm, warming your skin beneath her fingers. But it's most likely that it's—

Xiaoting cups her hands on your face and kisses your nose. "Listen, you wanna come outside with me? It'll be fun."

You nod through your tears. Sure. Anywhere is better than your lonely room. Hell, she could just take you to jail and you'd bet it still would be a better place than here.

No questions about why you were crying, no questions what you were thinking about that. She only kisses your cheek lovingly and tells you that the two of you leave in five.

You throw on a coat before going out with her. It's cold in China nowadays, so the air hangs in the atmosphere in the form of gray, cool mist. Sometimes the days are accompanied with ligjt drizzles of rain. That reminds you to bring an umbrella too, but Xiaoting assures you that she has already brought one for the two of you.

"Don't bring anything but my hand," she says to you.

You obey her. As the two of you leave the apartment, you clasp your cold hand in hers, locking the door behind you.

It is hard to recognize the world in front of you. Usually it is the darkness of your own bedroom, but now it is a landscape view of tall buildings that reach the grayish blue sky. Cars run along the road right ahead while passers-by chat happily, snug in the padded coats and jackets of their own.

It fascinates you how this is only a part of the world. That this is merely one small place that is nothing compared to the worlds far awat you could reach with a flight or bus ride. That this is just the beginning.

"First we have to go to the grocery store!" Xiaoting informs you as you walk down the stairs to the lowest floor. "We can just walk there or we can take the taxi. Your choice."

Oh wow. Your choice. It has been long before anyone has ever asked you what you would like to do, or even considered your thoughts on any matter.

You gulp down a sob. "Let's take the taxi," you manage to say. You rub your eyes, hoping that people would not notice how red they are from all the crying you did.

"Okay!"

She calls for a cab, and suddenly, you are being taken to a whole new world again. Though you have to view it in dim colors due to the car window being rolled up, you notice the rain creating wet patches on the ground, and the drops left on the window. You have never seen that café before; maybe it's new? Oh, and that park too!

It isn't a long trip to the grocery store. It even surprises you how quick it was. Just a few turns and you find yourself parked at the sidewalk, where a humble store stands tall despite the small size of its establishment compared to the other buildings. You would have figured out the name of the store if the words written at the front of it weren't in Chinese.

Xiaoting giddily hops out of the vehicle. She hasn't let go of your hand even after the trip. She gives it a reassuring squeeze before you enter the store with her.

"Okay, first thing we need to do is get some chips. I think they're in the seventh aisle."

For the first time the whole day, your face cracks into a grin. "We aren't even gonna get bread first?"

She playfully jabs you in the ribs. "Hey, don't tease me like that or I'll leave you here."

You chuckle as she drags you to said aisle. Xiaoting both hates and loves it when you bug her like that; she just won't admit it to spite you.

The world seems to be brighter now, even with the ceilings being a lonely color of gray. The colors of chip packages stand out to you in green, blue, yellow and red. If you rush by the aisle shelves really quickly, the colors morph into a mini rainbow.

Xiaoting grabs a blue bag of Lay's. "You think we could share a medium-sized one?"

"Why not?"

Shen Xiaoting's addictive grin reaches her ears. No words could describe how happy she is to hear even a bit of positivity from you. "Seeee? That's what I want to hear!"

You smile too. You are always happy when Xiaoting is happy, so if your own happiness influences hers, maybe you should start trying to be happy.

If you cannot be happy for yourself, you could be happy for Xiaoting.

Xiaoting who is running her fingers through her own hair at this moment and grinning at her reflection staring back at her in the gray shelf. "I think I look pretty today. Can you take pictures of me with it?"

"Why not?"

You repeat the answer you gave her earlier just to see another wide grin on her beautiful face. You have a feeling that you have just birthed another inside joke that will be overused for the next twenty centuries. You wouldn't mind it at all though.

Xiaoting eagerly hands you her phone. You turn it on and switch to the camera app. Beneath your fingers you could see her hide part of her face behind the bag of chips, then make a cute expression for the camera. Click. You take the picture and hand it back to her.

"Wow, you take photos really well!" When you give her a mocking doubtful expression, she whines. "No, I'm serious! I look prettier here than in any selfie I've taken."

"Well, that's because you're already gorgeous to begin with."

It's a cheesy response, but Xiaoting's cheeks fill with rosy red. She punches your shoulder playfully, hiding her face behind the bag even more. You laugh out loud at how another cringeworthy quote of your has made her blush.

You grab this moment out of the air and tuck it into your heart, remembering to keep it there forever.

*****

"How about milk? Do we have milk already?"

You shake your head. "I don't think so."

"Then let's get some! Chocolate milk sounds good to you?"

A sudden gust of cold air springs out of the refrigerator when Xiaoting opens the door. Inside are an array of beverages, ranging from soy milk to cola and packed juice. You shiver at the added temperature of coldness in the air.

"Yeah, sure," you agree. Your eyes scan the variety of choices before you. Fresh cow's milk, iced coffee, ready-to-drink milk teas… you point to the bottle of chocolate milk. "How about that?"

"Okay!" says Xiaoting cheerfully, taking the bottle from the fridge shelf. "Then we can get the bread, and leave."

She places the bottle in the red basket hanging on her forearm beside the three bags of Lay's chips. The handles of the basket are creating marks on her skin, so you have constantly offered to carry it for her. But similar to your constant offers, over and over she has refused. And over and over, she says, "I only want you to hold my hand."

"Just hold your hand?" you ask doubtfully.

"Yes! Just hold my hand—wait!" A bright spark lights up in her eyes. "Neukkimi ojanha tteolligo itjanha—"

You recognize the lyrics immediately. "Eonjekkaaaaaaji!" you yell out the high part in a strained voice, not caring if customers in the grocery store look at you with deep concern. "Nunchiman beol geoni!"

Xiaoting throws her head back, laughing loudly. She buries her head in the crook of your shoulder as she tries to contain her guffaws.

Of course! IU's "Hold My Hand"! One of the first ever songs IU wrote herself before many other masterpieces. Anyone could recognize it the song because of how timeless it is.

Surreptitiously—or so you thought—5hrow three or five bottles of iced coffee in the basket. "Ne mameul malhaebwa!"

Xiaoting shakes her head and returns the iced coffees back in the fridge, the tone in her singing a clear "no" to the coffees. "Ttanchong piuji mallan mariya!"

"Oh, come on!" you protest. You are still stuck in the duet with her despite your whining, so the words come out as a singsong.

But she quickly places a finger against your lips. "Ganeun geudaero…"

"Jigeum nae soneul jaba!" the two of you yell out, cackling along the way. You attempt to snatch the lost bottles of iced coffee again, but Xiaoting slaps your hand away.

Oh well. You'll sneak an iced coffee another time.

******

You and Xiaoting almost miss the train back home, but you swear that this time it isn't your fault.

One of your arms are wrapped around a brown paper bag, contents being the beverages and loaves you bought from the grocery earlier. The other one is draped on Xiaoting's shoulder to protect her from the ever-so-busy train.

It's funny how although the train seems is the physical manifestation of the tightness that you felt in your room, you do not feel like crying. People bustle in every direction in the narrow vehicle yet this has been the most comfortable you've been the whole day.

Sometimes you can feel the tears making your throat tighter, but the feeling of the sobs making the invisible burden on your shoulders weigh more is more frequent than that recently.

But sometimes you can also feel a little clarity creep into your heart, warming it and bringing a smile to your face.

As you look at Xiaoting napping against your shoulder in the subway with her arms tangled around you, you conclude that maybe things aren't so bad after all.

Although you have to start all over again tomorrow, you can't help but look forward to what will come.

[frankcastleissoft]

Lover

Frank Castle x reader

Word Count: 4,431

Warnings: angst, attempted rape, conflict/tension, and fluff (( but that’s not a bad thing :) ))

__

This new life with Frank was very simple. Not much else to be said about it. You both went to work and came home. Day after day, week after week. Simple.

It had been almost five months since Frank had finished off the last of the people responsible for his late family’s death. You could tell it still hurt though. It stung deep in his core. Like there was a ton of bricks inside of his chest, weighing him down. It hurt you too, to see him like that. Work for him was just a way to let out everything he was holding deep inside of him. He worked at a construction site, tearing down an old building. Sometimes he didn’t come home till dark and that scared you.

You worked at a catering company. You would go to the companies and help cook and keep the food refreshed. Cooking was something you really loved to do, so when you were able to get this job it really helped the situation.

The situation:

Frank was dead. And technically you were too. Not really anyone knew about you, but you had to be dead too. Now you both were living in a small, one room apartment.

You would come home around 5:00pm every day. Frank never beat you home. The last five months had been rough to say the least. Your marriage felt like it was hanging by a thread. You hardly talked and there was always this tension between you two. Some days you wouldn’t see Frank at all. He would come home after you were asleep, take a quick shower, find the plate of dinner in the fridge, then go to bed. You always made him dinner. Without fail. Frank loved your cooking. He was always starving when he got home.

And by the time you woke up in the morning, he’d be gone. It gave you this ache in your heart when you woke up and he wasn’t beside you in the bed that was much too small for the two of you.

So you would get ready for the day, then head out the door for work. It was always the same. Unless on the rare occasion, Frank would be dead asleep next to you, breathing heavily. He slept so hard sometimes it made you worry about how intensely he worked.

Work was long today. It felt like everything was ten times harder than it usually was, so you were looking forward to getting off your feet and sipping some tea, while reading a book. The little things meant the most living like this. The air was cool as you walked along the busy, Brooklyn streets toward home. You pulled your coat collar up against your neck, attempting to warm yourself.

After a few flights of stairs, you pulled your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. You set your things on the table in the middle of the room and put your coat in the wardrobe that was just small enough to fit in the room. You looked around the apartment. The bed was facing you, across from the door and the wardrobe. In the middle a table sat there with two chairs on each side. To the left was a door that led to the smallest bathroom in history. Then a doorway beside the bathroom led to the narrow kitchen. The cabinet space was limited and there was a small oven and only a little bit of counter space. The Fridge seemed to take up the most room. It wasn’t much, but you did your best to make it feel like a home. Flowers on the table— they were dried up and dead now. A rug in the kitchen, a knitted quilt on the bed, and a few books on the nightstands.

You made your tea, then made dinner soon after. Just like always, saving a plate for Frank. You had finished dinner, avoiding the mess, now sitting at the table, reading and indulging in another cup of tea to help you sleep well tonight. Then you heard a key slide into the lock and the door opened. Frank’s heavy boots stepped in, the weight of his feet sounded like he had had a long day too. He placed his metal lunch box on the table, and sat down to take off his shoes.

“Hey,” his deep voice whispered.

“Hey,” you said just as quietly.

He put his shoes by the door, then went to the bathroom to wash his hands. You watched him from where you sat. His dark hair was getting longer and his beard made him look so different. You didn’t mind it though. Your eyes traveled down to his hands. They were so calloused with so many welts and blistered. More proof he worked so hard.

“I wish you wouldn’t work so hard,” you said without even thinking about it.

Frank turned off the water and patted his hands dry. You knew he had heard you, but he pretended not to.

“I’ll heat up your dinner,” you said, setting down your book and heading for the fridge, avoiding eye contact.

As his plate made its way around the microwave, you stared at it intensely, lost in a jungle of thoughts.

You and Frank had met during his massacre in Hell’s Kitchen. One night (or early morning) you were walking home from your dead-end job at a crappy diner, when a strange man came up behind you, sticking a gun against your side. He casually told you under his breath to stay quiet or you were dead. You felt fear spread through your entire body, not one finger left without terror. You continued to walk, the panic making it hard to put one foot in front of the other. But the man helped you out by shoving you along.

“Wha-What do you want?” you managed to crack out.

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” his voice sounded evil and cold.

Your stomach fell through, your heart pounded even harder. You had hoped he had just wanted your wallet, but now it seemed he wanted more from you.

“Come here,” he growled, shoving you into an alley, no one around to possibly help you.

You let out a cry as he shoved you against the wall, your head felt like it could have split against the brick. You sobbed out little pleases and cries.

“Shut up!” the man yelled in your face.

You finally saw what he looked like and you almost wished you hadn’t. He began to pull off your coat with one hand, the other holding the gun at your stomach. You felt paralyzed. You wanted to fight back, to never let this man take this from you, but you just couldn’t. Once your coat was off, he started on your shirt, a white button down, your diner uniform.

“Oh, hello, Y/N,” he sneered, noticing your name tag. “It’s nice to meet you.” His voice echo through your head. You knew it would haunt you if you made it out of this alive.

At that moment, you heard heavy feet scuffing against the sidewalk outside of the alley.

“Please,” you said a little louder, hoping the person would hear you.

“Shut up!” the man yelled again, shoving the barrel of the gun into your stomach harder. And just then, a large man shoved into the man who had half unbuttoned your shirt, knocking him to the ground. You cried harder, relief washing over you. The big man got the gun from the criminal and began beating him with it. Repeatedly and with so much force, you couldn’t help but stare. When his head was much too beat in to be alive, the big man stood up, looking down at his work. You just stood, melting into the brick wall. Both of your breath was rapid and heavy.

“You okay, ma’am?” the big man’s raspy voice echoed in the alley.

You just nodded quickly, almost scared of your hero too. He turned to look at you, his face splattered with blood. This was all too much. You were just coming home from work, looking forward to sleeping for twelve hours. But there was something in his eyes. They were dark, but full of something you couldn’t quite place. Your mind began to fog up and you felt yourself lose control. Then your legs gave out and you began to lose consciousness. You felt strong hands catch you around your waist, then you were out.

It was dark and quiet except for the faint sounds of cars and sirens. You were laying down and staring up at the darkness, a small light illuminated the space around you. When you were fully awake, you shot up, looking around. For a second you thought you had been taken somewhere, kidnapped, but when you saw the man who had saved you, your fear subsided some; but still wary of your safety.

“Hey,” his voice just as gravelly as in the alley. “You’re safe.” He added, noticing your nervous eyes.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around.

“An old building,” he replied. “You’re safe here.” He assured again.

You took in your surroundings again, lost in your fuzzy brain. Then something struck you, and you looked back at the man sitting on the floor. His face was stained with bruises. Dark ones around his eyes and lighter ones on his cheeks.

“Wait…” you spoke softly. “You’re Frank Castle. You’re The-The Punisher.”

“That’s what they’re calling me.” he said, almost pissed off at the mention of it.

You felt a bit of fear stir up inside of you again, but it quickly settled. He saved you.

“Why did you save me?” you asked.

“I wasn’t going to just keep walking when I heard you were in trouble.” his gruff voice replied.

You gave a slight smile, thinking.

“You’re not like what the news makes you out to be.” you started. “I mean, what you did to that man was pretty… intense, but you saved me. They make it seem like you’ll just kill anyone.”

“I only take out the ones that deserve it.” he said matter of factly.

You grimaced a little at that; you didn’t know how you felt about his morals. But you watched him from where you laid. There was something about him that was comforting. Maybe it was the fact that he had just saved you from something that would have stuck with you forever, or maybe it was that he seemed like he genuinely cared about your well being.

“Where’s my coat?” you sat up, feeling a little frantic. It was something that felt so important in the moment that it made you anxious.

“Oh, I- I didn’t get it. I didn’t see it,” Frank said, noticing your frazzled state.

“It’s okay,” you sighed. It was just a coat.

“Can I go home?” you asked, slightly pulling the blanket off of you.

“Yeah,” he stood up, a grunt of pain leaving his lips. “I’ll walk you back.”

At first you were going to decline for some reason, but then you realized that was the stupidest thing you could do. You stood up slowly, your head still fuzzy from the passing out.

“Here. You can use this.” Frank laid a big coat over your shoulders.

“Oh- thank you.” you said, caught off guard. You slipped your arms in the sleeves that were too long for your hands to poke through.

“Yeah,” he said under his breath.

As you walked home there was silence between you. You wanted to talk to him though. This all felt so surreal.

Then a loud noise, probably a motorcycle backfiring, came out of nowhere. You were still shaken up by what had happened maybe an hour before, so this sent fear through your body. You let out a fearful cry and grabbed onto Frank walking beside you.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said calmly. “It’s nothing.” He held your wrists, taking your hands off of his arm.

“I’m sorry,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so on edge. This isn’t my average night.”

Frank gave you a smile. His smiles were magic, his eyes smiled too.

“This isn’t too unusual for me,” he snickered. “Except for you.”

That made you smile a little wider. There was something about him. Had you known him for twenty seconds, or twenty years?

“Well, this is it.” You said, taking a step up to your apartment building, now more level with Frank’s eyes.

He stood there, stocky frame, both hands in his pockets.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, a slight smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said quietly, almost blushing at the care in his voice. “Do you want your coat back?” You began pulling your arms out of the sleeves.

“No- you keep it,” he put a hand out in front of you in rejection. “I lost yours, so.”

You smiled again, putting your arms back in all the way. It was quiet for a little while, just standing in front of each other. The city was mild tonight- well, this morning. It had to be 3am by now.

“Thank you.. Frank.” You said his name, really felt the word, nervous what he would think that you used it. Names are weird to say sometimes… when you don’t know the person very well.

He didn’t respond right away, maybe you were overthinking and it hadn’t really been that long.

“—For the coat.” You giggled, holding the front of the coat with one hand like a model.

Frank snickered, shaking his head. “No problem.” He grinned.

The joke hung in the air for a while as an excuse to not leave each other. But then it left and you both stood there in the silence again.

“Good night… uh.” Frank said.

“Y/N,” you replied.

Frank had seen your name tag, but he didn’t want to sound creepy by knowing your name.

“Y/N.” He said back.

The way his voice carried your name gave you this feeling deep in your stomach.

“Good night.” You replied.

He took a step back and you took another step up.

“Be safe.” He said quickly, then turned away, walking back to where you both came from.

The next night, you were walking home from work again. This time with your pepper spray in hand. As you walked, you felt like someone was following you. You became very aware and walked a little quicker. Then you slightly turned your head and caught a glance of the person. You stopped in your tracks. That frame you knew anywhere.

“Are you trying to get pepper sprayed in the face?” You chuckled.

“Not what I was wanting to happen, but worth it just to know you’re taking safety precautions.” You heard a gruff voice say behind you.

You let yourself laugh out loud, turning around to see Frank in a baseball cap and coat. He was grinning from ear to ear too.

It continued like that. He would walk you home every night. “Just for his peace of mind” he would tell you. That made the butterflies in your stomach fly higher. Those butterflies wouldn’t calm down. Even when you were just at home or at work. Frank was all you could think about.

One night you were at the diner, pulling another graveyard shift. You were in the back filling up the salt and pepper shakers. It had been a slow night. The bell sounded, telling you someone had come in.

“One second!” You called, screwing the top back on a salt shaker. Then you went to the front and saw Frank. You both gave each other bright smiles.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, coming out from behind the counter.

“Had the night off, thought I’d pop by.” He shrugged.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, shrugging too, joking like this was a normal thing he did. “Coffee?” You asked, but already started pouring a mug.

“Thank you.” He nodded. “I’ll just wait over here till you get off.” He went over to a corner booth.

“Okay,” you ducked your head, smiling like a fool.

As things progressed in The Kitchen, Frank walked you home less and less. You knew what he was. You knew what he did. It scared you to think about sometimes. There was something so mysterious about him, but there was something rooted so deeply in him that was just simply good. That’s what you saw every time you looked at him. His goodness.

Frank didn’t tell you much about what was going on, he said he didn’t want you getting in the middle of it; you had a couple fights about that. But you knew about Karen and how she was trying to help him. You were thankful for her. That she was helping him in ways you couldn’t.

He told you about his family. You cried. It broke your heart to hear the way he talked about them. His eyes glossy, his voice growing raspier.

Then he got arrested. You were shocked as you watched the news on the tv in the diner.

As the days dragged along, you felt yourself start to think it wasn’t ever going to be what you wanted it to be with Frank. It was hard to come to that conclusion, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop caring about him.

One day, you tracked down Karen Page and told her who you were and you both talked for hours. She told you about how she was investigating his case. You told her what you knew about him, it wasn’t much at all, though.

She told you as much as she could about his case. It was nice to have her, you both got along so well.

You kept up with the trial through the news, it hurt to see the way he was handling it.

Then he broke out of jail. That scared you. You didn’t know what he was doing.

Then all of the shootings happened. Everyone was blaming him, and you didn’t know what to believe. Karen was quick to tell you that it wasn’t him and that he had saved her. Those few days you were a nervous wreck. Karen wasn’t answering your calls and you didn’t know what to do.

Then the next night— or very early morning, you were coming home from work. You dumped your coat (the one that was really Frank’s) and purse on your couch and headed for the fridge; you were starving. Then you heard a sound in the corner of your living room, causing your stomach to flip. You slammed the fridge door in fear. Then a figure stepping forward, into the moonlight coming through the window.

“Frank?” you dropped the apple, tears immediately flooding your eyes. “Wha-What is going on?” Your voice quivered with emotion. You noticed is bruised and bloody face.

“I gotta disappear for a while,” he said slowly.

“Frank,” you said again, running forward, into his arms.

This was the first time you two had had any physical contact like this. His arms wrapped around your waist so tightly, you thought he could break your ribs if he wanted to. Your arms were around his neck, your face in his shoulder. Blood was probably staining your shirt, but you didn’t care.

“Do you mind if I wash up a bit?” He asked after you had parted.

“No, of course,” you led him to the bathroom.

That was the last time you saw him. The news said he was dead. Some explosion. It broke your heart.

A few days after the news, you learned it wasn’t true. The experience in your living room when he showed up was heart stopping. You woke up around 11am after another late shift. You shuffled into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“Can I get some of that?” You heard the familiar, gravelly voice say behind you.

You gave him the what-for for scaring you out of your skin. But it ended in tears and gratefulness that he was alive. You had to admit, you had a feeling he was.  

He left the next day, saying he had to finish what he had started. You tried to convince him not to, but he was too stubborn.

About a week later, he came back. He told you he had to disappear, go underground. He had changed his name to Pete Castiglione and he said he couldn’t see you anymore since he was technically dead. It stung. It hurt him too, you could see it in his eyes. There was something about his eyes that always had you captivated.

“Frank,” you said quickly as he stood up to leave, after telling you all of this.

He froze.

“What if I came with you?” You knew it sounded crazy, but you felt like Frank was someone you couldn’t live without. You’d known each other maybe a month, but it felt like years. You had a feeling he felt the same way.

He didn’t move, holding his hat with both hands in front of him. You stood up from the couch, turning to face him.

“Tell me you don’t feel like you’ve known me for years, like we were meant to meet.” You said, your face burning with embarrassment as you spoke. “Tell me you want to leave and never see me again. That you could just leave and never look back.” Your voice got caught in your throat.

“Y/N…” Frank whispered, taking a step forward.

“Cause if you tell me that, I’ll let you go. It’ll break my heart, but… I’ll let you go.” You bowed your head, closing your eyes, tears streaming silently down your cheeks. You felt a warm hand grasp your face, so gently. You looked up and was met with those eyes. They were glossy and sad.

“Frank,” You said so quietly.

“I can’t tell you those things, Y/N,” he replied. “I can’t lie to you.”

Your heart sped up as you looked up at him, his thumb grazing your cheek, wiping away fallen tears. You leaned forward, your head resting on his, both of you holding onto the moment with everything you had inside of you.

“I can’t let you go.” You whispered.

“You don’t deserve to live like a dead woman.”

“I’ll be with you.”

“What about your life? Your friends and family?”

“I don’t have any of that.” You told him that your parents were both dead and you didn’t have any other family. And friends were never your strong suit.

“But I—“ Frank continued. “I can’t put you in danger and you deserve so much better than—“

“You deserve to be happy, Frank.” You interrupted. “I know you don’t think you do, but you do.”

He was quiet. Standing there, you in front of him, your hands now intertwined in between you, he was in awe of you. He never thought he would feel like this again about someone. To him, you were perfect in every sense of the word.

“Please, Frank,” You stood on your toes and place a kiss on his cheek. Your lips felt the tear that had run down his lightly bruised face.

“You’re gonna have to start calling me, Pete,” he said, and both of you broke into the biggest smiles.

You jumped up into his arms in the tightest hug. Then you pulled away, looking at his sweet face. You both dove in at the same time with a deep kiss. It was full of so much love you both felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

“You are everything, Frank Castle.”

A few weeks passed and you both decided to get married. It was scary and something that was difficult for Frank, you could tell, and you didn’t blame him. But he loved you, simply and hard, so he knew it was right.

You changed your last name and quit your job and began to live a different life. A life away from the internet and the outside world. It was difficult to have to forget about your old life. More difficult than you thought it was going to be. You moved into a much smaller apartment and left everything of yours behind. You were dead after all, and you can’t take your things with you when you die.

You had contacted Karen before everything. She was the only person Frank trusted and you wanted to make sure she knew that you were both okay. She was so happy for you both.

Now here you were, months later, that honestly felt like years. Frank had distanced himself from you and you had curled in on yourself too. Things were rough. The routine was the same and everything was stuck in a time loop.

 Frank had cleared his plate, now taking a shower. You turned on the clock radio for some music while you tackled the messy kitchen. Music was a safe place for you and it was nice to at least have the radio to keep you company. Then a love song came on that you adored. It was one of those songs that you can’t help but sway to. Frank came out of the bathroom soon after it started, but you hardly noticed as you were lost in the tune. You were standing over the sink, washing a plate, swaying to the slow beat. You did notice Frank enter the small, kitchen area, but you were caught off guard when he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You were stiff for a moment, but quickly softened into his embrace. You laid your head back against his shoulder as you both swayed from side to side, lost in the lyrics.

“You’re my, my, my, my… Lover.”

You felt Frank’s warm breath against your neck. It was so comforting. His arms tightened around you and you dropped the plate in the dish water, moving your soapy hands to on top of Frank’s. This was everything.

The song ended, it wasn’t long enough. You turned to face Frank, looking into his eyes. His eyes. You hadn’t looked at them and gotten that feeling in so long.

“Frank,” you said with your breath, your hand grasping his bearded cheeks.

You felt his hands grasp your hips tightly, and you both leaned in, your lips pressing firmly against each other. Things got a little brighter as the night went on.

...

[remsmoonlight]

— title : don’t leave me lonely

— word count : 3 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : when the protective instinct that runs deep within daryl you can’t take how much of a child he treats you, only when words spoken in anger do you both see the truth.

— warnings : swearing, one instance of blood description, vague mentions of daryl’s past and just some general angst

I've heard you're taking requests, soo, Could you please write something with Daryl and 20+62 from prompt list?

Thank you in advance and have a nice day ❤️

        ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested   ? yes !     /   requests are open   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 prompt list : 20. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” &&             “ After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

Pale grey pavement is being painted with the blood of the walkers you had to slaughter in order to survive, to make it back to your family. You dare not speak a word, already predicting a storm awaiting to drench you in its anger that currently forms within the man you slowly began to love. You can’t pinpoint exactly where you began to have these thoughts, experience these feelings, as it hasn’t been an easy road. Loving him is not uncomplicated, the image he shows the world is harsh, though his actions speak louder than his words.

You’re stuck following him and Aaron, the man sparing apologetic glances back every few metres. He has nothing to apologise for, he was simply a bystander to a very awkward encounter between the two.

“ the hell y’doing out here? “

For a moment, your world stops. You hadn’t expected to see anyone out in the secluded area of the greenery that surrounds Alexandria, the whole idea of going from fighting for your life every day to pretending the world isn’t dead is not a pill that is easy to swallow. A potentially horrid coping mechanism, but you have to remember what it’s like out there, to not be protected by steel walls. To pretend you still have to sleep with one eye open, if anything was to ever happen to anyone you love because you allowed your guard to be demolished by a faux safety you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself.

A timid smile arises on your expression, almost apologetic. You shrug in response to Daryl’s question.

“ y’got no brain now? “ stomping towards you, his eyes burning with outrage and alarm, he doesn’t trust this new situation with you in it.

“ not here, Daryl. “

Trouble has a way of finding you, the unfamiliarity of everything touching the fear that he prays to stay dormant within the walls of Alexandria. At least with you confined to the area he can see clearly, he doesn’t have to imagine the worst possible outcomes to prepare himself for the inescapable of what always happens.

He can’t lose you, he can’t tell you either.

Eyebrows raise in shock over the suddenness of his heated words, never once had he spoken to you in such a way. Even on the rare occasion he was genuinely annoyed with something you had done. You force your features to stay neutral, not wanting a war in front of Aaron, considering you haven’t known him for long.

A mirror image is the displeasure that has stewed within you, the very same of the Dixon man you had shared the road with. Who does he think he is? You ask yourself, that outburst was for no reason and you know it. It’s times like these that confuse you and your feelings for him.

Though you hear no footsteps behind you, you can feel Daryl’s presence stalking you closely, but you pay no mind. Not in any mood to talk, afraid for what you will say in anger.

A temper is something you control, though there are moments it wants to smash down your walls.

With a heavy breath set free into the air, you turn the handle of your home open, leaving it open for Daryl as you know it’s going to be a conversation he will wish to continue. For a rather quiet man, when he wants to, he can say a lot.

Turning to face him, you wet your lips to say something, hoping to calm him before the situation gets out of hand. Hoping to get an idea of why he is so irate, though your expression hardens ever so softly as you realise that he’s most likely going to continue on the tirade he began outside of the walls. Your heart thumps against your ribcage, almost rattling your entire being with anticipation. Being able to hold your own in conflict is something you are able to do, but it doesn’t mean it leaves no scars to litter your soul.

“ okay, so what was that out there, Daryl? “ your words are soft, almost to the tune of a whisper as you question him. Hoping to understand his point of view.

“ y’really gotta ask that? “

Your lips purse, you merely blink in his direction as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Your heart is full of hurt as he treats you as nothing more than a stranger with the heat that coats his furious words that he hauls in your direction.

It confuses you incredibly how the day has gone to hell so swiftly, but you warn yourself about that. Assuming once dawn breaks that the day will bring something good for once, and not news of another tragedy. Even protected by the stereotypical image of a cookie cut American household can’t hold off death. No matter what, it gets its day.

“ yes, I do! “ you raise your voice, fighting the urge to close the distance. Knowing that he’d mistake it as you being on the offensive. “ I wasn’t doing anything except walking! “

“ yeh, an’ that’s what concerns me. “

A pause.

Nothing but the noises from the residents of this small town can be heard, the silence so deafening it almost obliterates your confusion. The room is so quiet that you even doubt that the two of you are even occupying it, the house feeling more and more cold with the seconds that slug by, it feeling that there’s no life to breathe a new warmth into it. Never has it felt so bare to be in that in that very moment than with the two of you ready to cut deep.

This is what he's pissed about? Before you even realise, you snort from disbelief. It’s something so small, so insignificant you can’t even believe it. Their new found safety has affected the group in many ways, but this has to be one of the strangest as you openly stare at his tense form.

“ seriously? “ you ask, refusing to believe he’s pushing this so intensely for that very reason.

“ y’finding that funny? “

“ yeah, because you’re acting like you’re my damned father. “ pointing a finger in his direction, you pace for a few fleeting seconds.

A closeness between you both has long since been acknowledged, but you’ve never divulged to him the true extent of your emotions. Sometimes you think he’s aware of what you feel, though late at night when you’re alone you realise that it may be better if he doesn’t. You wish you have the confidence to even share it with him, although the thought that blares in your ears warns you otherwise. Your heart couldn’t take another heartbreak, opting for his friendship rather than a cold shoulder born out of awkwardness.

Sometimes you’re sure he’s staring at you with a longing glint in his eye when you’re not paying attention, however you often chalk it up to hope. Never are you one to follow the signs, not wanting to be wrong. Your imagination cannot be crushed if it doesn’t have confirmation.

Hope can be cruel as it can be kind.

“ someone’s gotta, I can’t remember all the times I’ve had t’drag your ass outta trouble! “ his crossbow thuds as it’s dropped without a care, his face reddens as it twists and contorts. You haven’t seen him show this much rage since the Greene’s farm.

The day you first met him is permanently burnt into your brain, being half starved and dehydrated you thought you were hallucinating him. Unable to walk, your limbs weighed a ton under the exhaustion you felt under the punishing Georgian sun but there he was. Surrounded by the rays as if he was your very own guardian angel, but that idea had been put straight to bed as soon as you saw the outbursts from him to the other members of the group.

With the months that passed, you had trouble saying that was the same man you knew today. Less prone to rage, clearer about doing anything in his power to aid his family, though you can’t help but wonder if the old Daryl wants to break through the progress he has made so far.

“ and I never asked for that, Daryl. Why are you acting as if you’re my keeper? “

“ fine! it ain’t my problem if y’wanna be a selfish bitch. “

Causing hurt to the people he loves comes easy to Daryl. To wound deep when he’s scared is all he has ever learnt, to show love and affection was never afforded to him as a child, not even when he silently begged for it. Now, he was physically and mentally scarred, even these days were they still plaguing him like a never relenting ghost. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he hates seeing pain in your eyes, but he can’t convey his worry without fury over the idea of losing you.

He can’t imagine having to live a life where you’re not cracking a joke at the worst possible moment, or your selflessness that will surely one day cause you more harm than good. His breathing increases at the thought, his fists clenching, willing him to stay in place and not barge through the door without a second thought.

“ se - selfish? Daryl, you’re making sense! “

“ y’don’t care about anyone but y’self. Doin’ shit like that by y’self is only gonna get y’killed. All y’think about is you, not anyone left behind. “

“ after everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you? “ the fire you had once now leaves nothing but dying embers, defeat coating your words as tears shimmer in your eyes

Daryl doesn’t know how to react at your proclamation, the inner battle to stay in the lounge now lost. His mind is unable to warp the idea of you even entertaining the thought of becoming more than friends, never did he dream that the shield he’d built around himself could injure him more than the outside elements could.

Before he even realised it, he’s leaning down to pick up his crossbow and heading straight for the door. Paying no mind to you taking his departure as rejection and not self preservation.

“ if you think I’m gonna come back, I’ll make you wait a long time! “ you call out before slamming the door.

Hands are brought to your stomach, as if to stem the bleeding from a wound made deep into your torso, though it can’t curb the internal trauma you feel from Daryl ripping himself from your presence. You knew it was a bad idea to tell him your feelings, yet you could hardly stop yourself in the war of words between the two of you. Nothing is a big enough wish than to stop the pain that ignites your entire self, threatening to consume you entirely. Only now do you understand the true extent of your love for him, previously thinking it was little more than a crush, though this feels more. Especially mourning what could have been.

You retreat to your room, not even leaving to share dinner with your family. Afraid not if Daryl would show, but rather your ability to hold your composure when you feel as if you’re glass who’s moments are counting down by the second to shatter into nothing more than sharp fragments that will only slice others to ensure they bleed, to ensure they feel as bad as you do.

“ come on, you’ve got to get some air. “

A series of knocks interrupt your sleep, followed by the voice of who you recognise as belonging to Carol. You ignore her, not wanting to face anyone just yet. The trauma on your heart is still too fresh. However it matters not to Carol, for she simply does not take your silence as an answer, but rather as an invitation as she opens your door.

“ just leave me alone, please. “

“ the others are worried about you, so am I. “ she speaks, concern written all over her face as she steps forward closer to your bed, her frown becoming more and more prevalent.

“ let them be, I just want to sleep. “

“ you don’t have to talk to anyone, come down after breakfast. Just get some fresh air. “ Carol gently requests with a half smile blooming onto her features. If anything is certain, she wants to see you and Daryl work through the fog that currently locks you both away.

Leaving the bed, you groan to yourself. You’re not sure how much time has passed since Carol departed, but it has been long enough for your family to have also left the house to either explore more or two engage in their jobs. It’s something you send a silent thanks to the sky for, all you desire is solitude, with the sun etching its warmth onto your face. Opening the door, you see people going about their business with little regard for you, though you’re sure some of them must have heard the commotion the previous day.

You pay little mind to them though, more concerned on piecing together the broken pieces of your heart than anything else.

Sleep never once visited Daryl, never did it carry him off into a peaceful slumber. Though he can’t help but feel as if he deserves it, as payment for having to be the cause of the damage to you, being the reason you sobbed harder than he’d ever heard you. He’d waited outside that door, pushing himself to make things right, but never did the courage arise. Leaving him lonely once again.

Fuck this he curses himself mentally, this is going to be the one time an opportunity for happiness does not pass him by. Not once more, that was the last time he’d be nothing more than a witness.

Astonishment transforms his hardened expression as he comes to a stop, realising you’re already sitting on the porch next door with a blissfully peaceful air surrounding you. You don’t realise he’s there just yet, your eyes closed as you take in the sounds and smell of Alexandria, a distraction to what you feel. Daryl briefly wonders how he should go about patching things between the two of you, the situation an alien one to him. Fingers reach towards the cigarette packet concealed in his trouser pocket, with the barest of shaking from nerves.

Bringing it to his lips, the smoke is what alerts you to his being closing the distance. You can’t prevent the draining of colour from your face, not prepared from yet another interaction with the Dixon man so early in the morning.

“ I - uh, wanna say sorry. ‘Bout yesterday. “ Daryl apologises, with a regretful tone colouring his words with the most vibrancy he can muster.

Your gaze slips to the floor, watching the grass move ever so slightly with the breeze that wanders through. To forgive is in your nature and you sorely want to extend that forgiveness to him, but to do so after that exchange is a difficult thing.

“ thank you, I suppose. “ you shrug, your hands tying together as you try to make up for a lack of words.

“ I ain’t expectin’ y’to forgive me or nothin’, I just want y’to know. “

You sigh to yourself, you know in your heart he means what he says, you hate that you’ve been this mad at him.. at each other this much, even for a few hours. People and bonds are a rare blessing in this world, and you know it’s better to keep them close than to allow them to burn in the fire of hatred and impulse, to leave them nothing more than ashes ⎯ remnants to revere of an age that has since past.

“ Daryl, I do forgive you. I’m just trying to figure out how we move past this. “ you reply with sorrow, your eyes closing, a crease intensifying between your brows. It hurts to even speak into existence.

“ those things you said yesterday ... did you mean them? “

Bewilderment forces your eyes open, your head snapping to meet his figure that still stands. Here you are preparing yourself to move past Daryl, no matter how hard that would be, and he’s asking you questions about what you said.

“ you’ll have to be specific, I said a lot. “

“ it needs sayin’? “

Daryl can’t help but feel put on the spot as your sight bores into him with a forceful amount of strength, scrutinising him with the need to find an answer he’s not yet sure of.

“ yes, it does. “

“ was y’serious about.. bein’ in love.. ? “ with me is the silent end to the sentence that lays peacefully on his tongue as he leaves it out, the invisible presence of it painfully clear to the both of you, knowing that while it wasn’t included, it was there regardless.

“ when it comes to things like this, I don’t lie. “ you rest your head on your chin, a small yet anxious smile fighting to break free onto your features.

Why do I have to be a nervous smiler?

Daryl doesn’t answer, instead he moves to sit beside you on the porch. Closer than ever before, it’s not something that goes unnoticed by either of you, and like that hope is once again reignited within your core. Even small steps like this are significant, physical affection with other people is still something that has not changed all that much with him.. Though, you’ve seen moments on rare occasions, witnessing it before he can even stop himself.

“ so, we boyfriend and girlfriend now? “ you joke, laughter allowing the grief to peel away from your heart, allowing it to flutter in the air at the thought of the potential between you.

“ shut up. “ mumbles Daryl, although there’s a small grin that is peaking through his expression as he allows it to be set free, even though the full picture is still hidden under the grime and the hair that has long since overgrown.

But, you find you wouldn’t change a thing about that. It being part of his charm. You can’t help but find yourself full to the brim of excitement of what can grow between you, with the possibilities endless.. no matter how hard things can and will get, you will have each other in a new way that you’ve never before and that? It’s a heavenly picture you want to cut and pocket away in the confines of your heart.

[kyuus4ku]

𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗢𝗔𝗣 𝗕𝗨𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦

chuuya nakahara

genre: minific ; fluff

warnings: mentions of blood, a little bit of profanity

word count: 2.1K

Your head throbbed with a dull sting as you carried your aching back to sit upright on the bed. Rubbing your eyes in exhaustion, a sharp sigh escaped your lips. You had a long week, and the missions the boss sent you on weren't easy ones. As one of the Port Mafia Executives, the number of reports you had to write and dirty tasks you had to deal with were numerous, but it seemed as if the pressure that initially weighed on you was subsiding, or perhaps you were just slowly getting used to it.

Nevertheless, it was easier than before since you could work alongside Chuuya.

It seemed as if you both shared each other's burdens of the stress imposed on you everyday. Other than that, it was nice having a partner who knew exactly what you had to deal with at work. It sort of saved you the trouble of explaining and elaborating on details of how your day went, since the both of you stuck together most of the time. Even your colleagues were well-aware of how close you were. Disregarding the countless times Dazai, who was your esteemed colleague but also your close friend, had mockingly declared that you both acted like 'a pair of pathetic, lovesick teenagers,' the fact still remained that you and Chuuya were highly respected at the Port Mafia because of what your ideal duality was capable of accomplishing.

But today, you didn't bother thinking about work. It was the last thing you wanted on your mind. You turned your head to your side, and found that Chuuya was not sleeping next to you. You got out of bed and started humming a tune whilst making your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Your head was cluttered with thoughts about what your plans were for today, since it was one of those rare opportunities to spend some quality time with Chuuya, who wished to do the same with you, too. Just as you were about to get out of the bathroom to look for him, you heard a voice coming from behind the shower curtain.

"Oi," Chuuya's morning voice rang groggily, "what happened to wishing your boyfriend a simple 'good morning'?"

You tittered lightly and proceeded to open the curtain, only to find Chuuya comfortably relaxing in the bathtub with a glass of wine in his hand. A grin broke through his expression as your eyes rested on him.

"Good morning, idiot," you chimed sweetly, "how long have you been in here?"

Before he could respond, you held your index finger up in realisation as you recognised that strong scent hanging in the air. Chuuya looked at you innocently as he tried to think of a way to justify the fact that he used too much of your favourite vanilla soap in the bath. You also realised that there were more bubbles than usual, so you quickly deduced the situation and frowned at him in fake disappointment.

"I'll get you more soon," he added awkwardly before you could say anything.

"How much did you use?" you inquired seriously, attempting to scare him.

"Half the bottle... sorry... it took a while to bubble up... I was really confused," he scratched the back of his head guiltily.

"I'm kidding, Chuu~" you chuckled softly. You proceeded to remove your clothes and carefully slid into the tub to sit across him. He had prepared another glass just for you. Pouring a portion of one of his most expensive wines into it, he checked to see if you were seated comfortably.

"What's the occasion?" you asked as the sweetness of the alcohol washed over and soothed your tastebuds. The bitter aftertaste and the way it flooded over all your distressing thoughts about work summed up just how much you liked it.

"I'm a great boyfriend," he said airily, a smirk curling up the corners of his lips.

"Nah... admit it," you replied nonchalantly, "you just love spoiling me."

Chuuya laughed at this, not bothering to differ with your statement. The both of you sat in silence for a bit, casually sipping from your beverages and engulfing yourselves into your thoughts, while slowly getting a little light-headed from the gradual intoxication of the wine. The alcohol seemed to be doing a great job of relaxing your sore joints, and bringing Chuuya into a flurry of lukewarm emotions which stood in contrast to his usual agitated mood.

However, this changed as Chuuya broke his train of thought when he noticed the bruises lining your right shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, so he leaned forward and reached out his hand, gently brushing the tips of his finger against them and catching you off-guard at the same time.

"What happened here?" he asked, observing it carefully as your hand reached out to push away his. You didn't really like it when he showed too much concern over such trivial things, even though you deeply appreciated it. Since working in the Port Mafia often posed threats to the both of you physically, these sort of minor injuries were normal, but he never failed to dote after you. He took care of you as best he could, and you did just the same for him. This was one of the million reasons why Dazai often referred to you both as 'the cheesiest couple to walk on this godforsaken planet.'

"It's nothing," you held your hand over your shoulder, pressing the bruises lightly to see if they still hurt as much as they did a few days ago, "It's just from that dumb fight that broke out a few days ago. Remember?"

"Where was I?" a look of annoyance replaced his concerned expression, "why didn't you ask for help?"

"I managed it just fine," you replied rather abruptly, trying your best to brush it off. You two often argued about such things, but today, the last thing you wanted to do was fight over something so minor.

Chuuya stared at you seriously while you tried to avoid his gaze. Your heart raced a little at the thought of a potential argument breaking out, so you decided to diffuse the tension since it was supposed to be a day of rest, and... slight inebriation.

"Chuuya," you subtracted the ego your expression held, and assumed a calmer, more tender tone, "it's nothing to worry about, okay?"

He pursed his lips as his eyes travelled down to your bruises, then back up to meet your gaze, "please, be more careful, for fuck's sake."

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The pace at which your heart was beating slowed down to keep up with the alcohol's minor effect on your body, and Chuuya's sharp features, with its present undisturbed guise, had a strange way of setting you at ease, too.

Maybe it was just the wine talking, but you didn't let anything stop you from soaking up every fibre of this moment.

"Hey, don't act as if you didn't come home with blood all over your clothes a few weeks ago. It was a fucking bloodbath over here, and all I got were a few bruises," your playful teases overtook the silence which the both of you were too captivated by for a while.

"Shut up. Don't make me remind you about how you were freaking out," he mentally mustered up the theatrical skill hidden deep inside him to imitate your voice, "'Fuck, there's blood everywhere! Chuuya, how are you feeling? It's okay, I'm going to patch you up... where the fuck are the bandaids!? Oh my- okay, wait, I'll be back, don't move. Oh, wait, you can't- sorry, just give me a moment-"

"I had all the right to freak out, dumbass!" you cut him off and giggled as he shook his head dismissively, trying his best not to smile but failing all the same.

"On a serious note," Chuuya uttered after some contemplation, "if something like that happens again, call out my name."

"In the middle of a fight?" you tilted your head, perplexed.

"Yeah," he responded plainly.

"What are you going to do? Bitch-slap them?" you asked with a mischievous grin, unable to take him seriously.

"Make them regret it," Chuuya replied bluntly before a devious smile broke through his serious expression, "of all people, you know what I'm capable of."

"I do," you assured him, "but why?"

The question was genuine, and he decided to respond with brutal honesty.

"I don't take people's wellbeing lightly," he said, sipping on his wine while keeping his gaze locked onto you, "especially the people I give a damn about. So if anyone ever crosses that line— I'll kill them."

You felt something shift inside you.

His aggression and fierce loyalty seemed to overwhelm you. No one had ever spoken for you like that.

He took note of your silence, and wondered why you became quiet all of the sudden.

"What's wrong?" he asked you, gesturing for you to come over to his side. You did accordingly and made yourself comfortable in between his legs by stretching out your own, so that the both of you made good use of the space in the bathtub. The back of your head rested on his chest as the two of you blankly stared at the bubbles that surfaced the soapy water decoratively. He took away the wine glass from your hands and placed both the glasses on the cabinet nearby, where your essential oils and premium soaps were housed. He reached out to the lowest shelf for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Nothing," you replied calmly, "thank you."

"For what?" he asked, slowly getting a cigarette out of its box, careful not to get the tobacco rod wet.

"Don't know..." you replied dreamily, "no one's ever..."

Your voice trailed off. Chuuya sensed that you weren't in the mood to respond, so he reached his hands in front of your face with a cigarette in between his fingers, and placed it in between your lips carefully, with his face peeking over your shoulder to ensure that he had the permission to do so. As he gently handled your jaw in one hand and the lighter in the other, he lit it up for you.

"There's no reason to thank me," he leaned back once again as you painted the air with wisps of smoke. You remained silent as you handed him the cigarette. He held it in his hand and opened his mouth again, "this job really sticks a fuck ton of needles up the soles of your feet, so I can't help but feel worried about you."

"I'm worried about you, too," you replied as he passed you back the cigarette, puffing out clouds of smoke smoothly, "you know that, right?"

"Of course, I do," he scoffed, surprised at your question, "you're the one who doesn't seem to get that."

"Huh? What do you mean?''

Chuuya took a while to come up with an answer because he was trying to pick out words that he meant from the bottom of his heart.

"I signed up for this shit. I signed up for worrying about your dumbass and wanting to slice the throats of anyone who hurts you, let alone, touches you. So there's no reason to push my concern for you away; it won't go away. I'm just like that. I just care for you that way."

You giggled at his statement; that was the only way you seemed to know how to respond.

"What's so funny?" he growled grumpily.

His statement rewinded and played itself over and over again in your head.

"I feel like the luckiest person alive when I'm with you," were the words that came out of your lips breathlessly.

"Damn, it took you that long to realise?" he chuckled lightly and wrapped his arm around your abdomen to bring you closer toward him, "I'm going to keep you safe... whether you like it or not."

You turned back to peek at his casual smile and leaned towards him to place your lips on his; his fingers travelled up the back of your neck and into your wet hair as he pulled your head closer to his. Your body was physically enchanted by his embrace, to the point that your fingers started playfully drawing curly, deformed doodles on his bare chest. The essence of tobacco and wine were exchanged as your lips continued kissing his.

The rest of the day was similar to that morning you spent in the tub, except that it involved a slightly more chaotic type of drunkenness by which you two wreaked havoc wherever you could in the comfort of your home. It was an activity you two started looking forward to every weekend: just the two of you, drinking wine in the bathtub lined with vanilla-scented bubbles.

author's note: Heyo! This is pretty much my first post on this blog. I'm not very new to writing but this is my first attempt at drabble/short story writing revolving around an established character lol I hope you liked it! I'll make up a masterlist after I've written more fics/drabbles so I will do my best to come up with good content! Thank you for reading(◡‿◡✿)

[nat-20s]

hey, dont answer this if you dont want to or if youre not in a good headspace to give it but i think i need advice and im trying to reach out to people. so here goes

ended up being kinda long sorry :(

im having trouble with an internet friend. i love them. and i care about them. and they feel the same way for me. but they have mental health issues and sometimes they get really depressed.

i dont ever feel genuinely that they are At-Risk or anything, but recently theyve had a depressive episode and ive tried to do everything i can to help them.

but this is where i think things have been going wrong for a long time. because i try so fucking hard. i try so hard to help them. and i CANT. and i realize that i cant do anything to make them feel completely better because its their fucking brain chemistry but. fuck. i just want to help them. i want to say SOMETHING. anything to make them feel like theyre WORTH IT.

but. we had sort of a feelings jam that didnt go so well today. and i realized that i dont think our relationship is where is should be. and i dont know that its healthy.

because they said something to me. they said they dont want me worrying about them- that they know theyre more of a burden than a normal friend and they dont want to weigh me down with that.

and. fuck. it hurt so much to read that. because its TRUE. its true that trying to talk them out of negative thought patterns and boost their self esteem has been so. Draining.

and i didnt realize until they said that just how much id been trying to FIX them. and i dont think thats fair to them. and i dont think its fair to me.

i realized then that id at some point decided i had to fix them. that id decided i had to protect them and take care of them. and that id been changing the things i said to them as to try to not make them feel bad, or to try not to tip them off on how bad i was doing.

i remember a time when they asked me if i was okay to feels jam and i lied and said yes because i didnt know who else they could go to. if they had someone else to talk to. so i decided i needed to make a sacrifice to help them.

i need help. i need to know what to do now.

because weve had this feelings jam today. and i dont know what i have to do next.

im so fucking scared that theres no way to fix this. or that they dont fit into my life anymore.

im scared im going to have to let them go. i dont want to. but im so scared i might have to.

how do i fix this?

woof okay here's the best advice i can personally give but I won't claim to have a solution:

-I think dishonesty is going to hurt in the long term. pretending to be okay with a feelings dump when you're not because you feel an obligation is likely going to lead into resentment, and can then turn into a flow blown feeling that the friendship is a noble sacrifice on your part, which is helpful to neither you or them

-a friendship where you're trying to fix them isn't a friendship, it's a job. and a deeply unrewarding one at that. it's a super hard to kind of learn that, because by nature we want to help the people we care about, but learning to differentiate between support and trying to singlehandedly cure someone else's depression is vital

- only give advice when it's asked for? I'm not sure if that's relevant to your situation, but i know a lot of people will react poorly to being like "this is how you get Better tm" if they Did Not Ask, even if the advice itself is good and true, it can still come across as like, holier than thou? judgmental? and it will leave both people unsatisfied with the final results

-if they DO ask for help, give what you can! but don't exceed your own personal limits! and try to make sure that it's a fairly balanced give and take a la they also help you out when you ask, because, again, if it's completely one way help, that's a job, not a friendship

- i know im probably bludgeoning this point to death but welly truly a friendship will get 9000% healthier when you support your friend but do NOT try to fix them. being there for them is significantly different from telling them what to do

- lastly i would say: it's okay to end friendships sometimes. it sucks when it happens, but it DOES happen, and one or both of you will probably be better off, and that's fine too! People drift, lives change, and if you don't fit, you don't fit.

Tl;dr- Are you responsible for other people's dysfunction? No!

[jekunitrash]

A very short one-shot for Jeje and Mikuni's birthdays

I know I'm late for Mikuni, please just consider the story is taking place on October 1st.

Mikuni wasn't fond of parties. Not anymore, at least. There used to be a time when the manor got pretty lively on this particular day. But now, even though he wasn't there to witness it, he could imagine it was but a plain and normal day at the Alicein mansion. Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy all the attention, the presents, the praises, and everything that came along with celebrating his birthday. It was just... something he could live without. Compared to the other, more considerable losses, this one was irrelevant. Laughable, even. And yet, it was at this very moment, that Mikuni felt the loneliest. It wasn't the celebration in itself he missed, but the people who were there to take part in it. People he loved and couldn't see anymore, people who had loved him in return and couldn't anymore. For quite various reasons, but the conclusion was the same. His deceased mother could never wish him happiness again, and neither would Misono nor his father.

Today could have been a delightful day, but all joy had died that night, as well. Celebrating had become meaningless, worse, it would be painful more than anything. From now on, Mikuni's birthday would be a regular day. That was what he wanted.

So why did his chest hurt so much? He had come to terms with his past decisions, since then. He'd known about the consequences. He preferred it being like this, a hundred times more than what could have been. But it still hurt. Maybe because this date was special, maybe because he only truly realized now all that he'd lost. Perhaps it was because he knew no one could make today the same as before, too. For all of those reasons, Mikuni felt empty like he hadn't felt in a while.

Then, he remembered a conversation he once had with Tsurugi. About being jealous of him. Obviously, the blond had denied it. What could he possibly envy about the raven? His situation was just as bad, if not worse than his. But as of now, it did feel like jealousy. Tsurugi may not have the best life here at C3, but he at least had Touma and a few friends to think about his birthday. Mikuni didn't even have that. It was such a pathetic thought, but it was true nonetheless. Tsurugi had something Mikuni didn't. And he sometimes hated him for it.

Jeje turned around upon hearing someone sneeze, and sighed when he saw it was only Tsurugi.

"Tissues... on the table...you should... dress warmer. Fall... is already here."

"Sure, thanks, Jeje-chan!" The man said, hopping on a chair. "This mission was so boring, I couldn't wait to come back. Where is Kuni?"

Jeje swayed from one foot to another, visibly uneasy.

"He is still... working. He said... he wanted calm and... silence."

Tsurugi downright pouted, a childish mannerism to express his disappointment. "Heeeeh, is he for real? Today is his birthday, though. Where is the fun in filling out paperwork?"

The vampire fumbled with his sleeves. "I don't think... he is... looking forward to his... birthday." He muttered, and Tsurugi noticed the hint of guilt in his voice.

"Well, for starters, did you wish him an happy birthday? That could help." He said, a brow raised.

"He... probably... doesn't want to hear it from me..."

The raven leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his hands. He looked irritated somehow and that sure was something new.

"Jeje-chan, that is, how should I put it? Yeah, you're being stupid."

The taller man was about to get irritated as well, but Tsurugi went on.

"Look, what I'm saying is, you can't know how he feels nor what he wants if you don't ask or try. Kuni-chan has no one besides you to remember - well, I happen to know because it's written on his registration - but anyway, of course it would make him happy to hear it. That's only natural. Even if he denies or try to hide it behind a facade, he has a heart. And he's too sensitive for his own liking."

Jeje bit on his lower lip, pondering on what the raven had just said. He knew his eve had been moody since this morning, just as he knew his family's absence, today of all days, was weighing on him. He just felt like it wasn't his part to play.

"Even so..." he began eventually, "I can't replace... his family. It will never... be the same, for him."

Tsurugi was quiet for a moment, as for once, he was thinking of the best way to say things. It was soon obvious what he should tell Jeje.

"Okay, you may be right. It will indeed never be the same. But it doesn't have to be such a bad thing. What I mean is, from now on, what you have to do is to make it as good as you can. And then, little by little, you will both get new habits and find a way of your own to celebrate it. Kuni-chan... he's stubborn, and I'm sure he can be resentful, but he has a sense of what's right and what's not. So it's unlikely that he hates you to begin with. Therefore, being wished a happy birthday, even if you're not best friends, would still make him a little joyful."

Silence followed his statement. Jeje couldn't argue against that, as his analysis of Mikuni was so sharp. He was admittedly impressed, since Tsurugi always acted like an idiot. He hadn't thought he could have such a good understanding of people. After being stared at insistently for a solid thirty seconds, Jeje resigned himself.

"Alright... I will... talk to him."

The raven smiled like a contented child, his arms proudly crossed on his chest.

"Good, good!"

The afternoon was near it's end when Mikuni got it over with, not that it mattered. All he wanted was for this day to finish quickly, so maybe the one after he would forget about it already. It was so frustrating. He knew there was nothing he could do to change anything now, but it was bugging him nonetheless. It was as though a little, pestering voice kept reminding him, 'hey, you're all alone for your birthday. You ruined everything, so this is entirely your fault, tough'. And at this point he was tempted to go to sleep if it meant it would shut up. It would most likely have to wait, if the knock on the door was anything to go by.

He'd be lying again if he said he wasn't a tad bit surprised to see Jeje.

" What? I said I needed calm, didn't I?"

While it was far from an engaging start, his tone wasn't as spiteful as he had meant it to be. He had mostly sounded tired.

"I know... but you've been here all afternoon and... I thought you should... take a break." Jeje mumbled, which made Mikuni look at him quizzically. He had never acted out of his own initiative before. Rather, he had never gone against his eve's indications.

"Oh." Mikuni said, "Well, there is no need anyway. I'm done."

"That's... good."

Well, now it was awkward. Mikuni wasn't too sure, be it because of the fatigue or the unrealistic side of the situation, but was Jeje acting shy?

"Yeah, I guess." He spoke, "If that was all-"

But, unexpectedly enough, Jeje wasn't done, and Mikuni stopped midway after hearing a distant voice.

"Ha..."

The blond eve frowned, Jeje was being so weird and he had no idea why. Plus, he wasn't in the mood and it was beginning to annoy him.

"What?" He asked, and this time the vampire straightened his posture a little more.

"... happy birthday."

Mikuni legit blinked, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Huh?" He genuinely thought he had misheard, that he was imagining things. But his servamp surprised him even more by repeating that sentence. Louder, and firmer.

"Happy birthday, Mikuni."

The eve closed his mouth, opened it again, and in the end closed it. His troath felt dry for some reason, and his chest stinged in a manner that was oddly familiar. It was a strange warmth that spread and that he used to identify as joy.

Jeje was standing here, perfectly still, apparently waiting for an answer of sort. The way his mouth formed a line indicated that he wasn't too sure of what to do next, and Mikuni himself would have liked a notice.

At last, the only logical thing he could do was to thank him, and even then, he had trouble to process it. The embarrassed mess who spoke was totally not him, either.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Thank you."

Jeje seemed to relax afterwards, but it was still strangely tense. Mostly because Mikuni had a hard time believing it had happened. The vampire tried to think of a normal thing to do in this situation, or remember something the Alicein used to do on their birthdays. But then he recalled that Tsurugi had adviced to do something new, and decided he should just ask his eve at this point.

"So... Is there something... you want to do? Or eat?"

Truthfully, Mikuni's face was priceless, and perhaps someday he could even laugh about it, but not now. Right now Jeje was relieved, above all things.

"Some good tea would be nice, I suppose." Mikuni said eventually. "Also, a midnight stroll in the park. And why not cake, but I'm not going to eat it by myself, so... "

It was Jeje's turn to be started, and despite not being fond of sweet things, he couldn't turn down the offer.

"I... see. Then... I'll... have some. If that's... okay."

And then, Mikuni smiled for the first time in months.

"That would be alright."

Jeje poured a second cup of Ceylan tea for his eve, while the latter cut the small cake they had just bought. Tsurugi's present had been to negotiate a night out of C3 base without surveillance, and it was admittedly the best. Mikuni had cringed upon having the raven pester him about his birthday, of course, but his soft expression later on had told Jeje that he was thankful. The servamp could feel himself smiling, ever so slightly, as he put the cup on the table, and he was glad for the way it had all played out in the end. Mikuni was indeed loving his birthday, in a way, despite everything, and it was all the vampire could ask for.

It was when they were coming back from their walk, couple hours later, that Mikuni asked him out of the blue.

"By the way, Jeje. When is your birthday?"

Then again, it startled him. For one thing, no one had asked him that in a long, very long time. And for another one, he had stopped caring since he had become an immortal monster and had incidentally forgotten about it.

"I... don't know." He replied simply.

Mikuni hummed, and when the clocks indicated one minute past midnight, arbitrarily declared,

"In that case, your birthday should be today".

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 7

masterlist 

Kim Namjoon. That was the name of the devil. This was the information that they had wanted her to find. How ironic that she had it only after it was too late to do anything with it. She wanted nothing more than to call the police force and scream the information to the high heavens, to tell them where she was, who he was. More than that she wanted to go home. She wished she had never come her at all.

“At least it’s better than RM.” She huffed bitterly under her breath wrapping her arms around herself in her some semblance of comfort although it really wasn’t all that comforting.

“You should get used to it, jagi.” He hummed looking quite pleased with himself. “You are the lady of the house now.”

Her head shot up at that gazing at him with eyes wide and fearful. “The what?” she whispered hoping she had misheard him.

“The lady of the house.” He repeated smiling at her as though there was nothing wrong with the current situation. She could name a hundred things that were wrong with the situation she had found herself in. Her chief concern was RM, Kim Namjoon. “That is what the staff have been referring to you as.” He explained picking up his cup to sip at his tea.

Her brow furrowed in thought thinking back to her interactions with Miss In. “Bu-in.” she murmured contemplatively. “Is that what that means?” she nearly shrieked jumping up from her seat in a panic.

“Sit down, jagi.” He barked giving her a stern look. “You’re still recovering. All this upset isn’t good for you. Drink your tea.”

She glared at him wanting nothing more than to launch the tea cup at his head, but thought better of it choosing instead to sit down and glare at him from her seat. How could he go from barking at her to cooing over her health in less than a minute? She had called him insane before, but maybe he actually was.

“The tea, jagiya.” He reminded elegantly motioning towards the cup she had left sitting on the coffee table untouched since it had first been handed to her. “It’ll make you feel better.” He encouraged as though he had any right to care about her wellbeing when he was the one who had put her in this mess.

“Don’t act like you care.” She scoffed harshly.

“I care very much what happens to you.” He refuted taking another sip of his tea, infuriatingly calm.

Her eyes narrowed as she hissed at him. “Bullshit. You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself.”

A frown marred his features pulling down the corners of his mouth as his eyes lost their warmth and sharpened back into the cold calculating expression she was used to. “I don’t appreciate your tone, jagi.” He tutted shaking his head slowly as though he was disappointed in her. “You’ve already tested my patience once today. Let’s not do it again.”

The warning was clear. Behave or suffer the consequences. So she picked up the cup and took a sip allowing the ginger tea to warm her from the inside out and settle her rolling stomach.

“I forgave your lapse of judgement earlier, but I won’t allow such disrespect in my house, Y/N.” his entire body radiated dominance as he spoke, watching her with those cold dark eyes. “There are rules here, even for the lady of the house.”

“I’m not the lady of this or any house.” She hissed through gritted teeth allowing the anger to seep into her tone. “I’m not your god damn wife.”

He smiled. She hated that smile. Nothing good ever followed it. It was cold and cruel, predatory in nature. “You and I both know that in this world the legal trivialities don’t matter. If I’ve claimed you as my woman, then by the laws of our world, you are as good as my wife. No one can touch you here.”

“Except for you.”

“Except for me.” He agreed pleased by her understanding of her place in this new twisted world he had thrown her into. “Let’s go over the rules shall we, jagi?” His tone was suddenly cheery giving her whiplash. “Unfortunately your little stunt will have consequences.” He tutted though they both knew he didn’t have any real remorse for anything he was about to do. “I can’t have you throwing yourself out windows or causing harm to yourself or the staff. Until you’ve adjusted you’ll be confined to these rooms.” He announced watching with a gleam in his eye as she stiffened. “They were prepared with you in mind, jagi.”

She couldn’t stop herself from scoffing. “I don’t give a flying fuck who you prepared the rooms for.”

“Language!” he barked shooting her a harsh glare. “I will not have my wife swearing.”

“I’m not your wife!” she shrieked gripping the tea cup tightly in her hands debating whether or not it would be worth it to chuck the porcelain at his head.  The look on his face told her it wouldn’t be. As satisfying as it would be, she couldn’t afford to incur his wrath any more than she had in the past few hours.

“Y/N.” She didn’t like that tone. She didn’t like how patronizing it was. “Watch your tone.” He warned. “You are the lady of this house now, but I am still its master. If you behave I can give you a very good life, Y/N. And if you don’t I can make your life very miserable.” It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. “Now be a good girl and listen to what I tell you.” God how she wanted to slap the smirk right off his face.

She clenched her jaw but made no move to do or say anything else. “Until you can be trusted not to be a danger to yourself or others you will remain here. The staff is, of course, at your disposal, but they will not help any of you with any ill-conceived escape attempts. They are nothing if not loyal to this house.” She nodded slowly, and he seemed content that she understood and was listening. “Once I’m satisfied that you’ve… adjusted, you’ll be allowed free reign of the house and the gardens. You will not be allowed outside the estate without my supervision, though I suspect you won’t be ready for that privilege for a long time.”

The look he sent her was pitying, and it did nothing but make her skin crawl. They both knew that he held no pity for her. He was more than pleased to have her settled within the confines of the estate. Marcus had been a controlling and vile man, but he had never actually locked her away from the world. This was a new form of torture even for her.

“You are a rare bird, and I enjoy your fire, but I will not condone the same behavior I saw today. You will not swear. You will behave in a way that befits the lady of this house. And you will never lie to me. Do you understand me, jagiya?” He asked leveling her with a hard stare. “I’ve already told you that any more of your ill-conceived attempts at freedom will result in punishment. Oh!” He paused as though a thought had just come into his head. “The windows. I’ll be having them sealed until sure you won’t try to throw yourself out of them again. I’d prefer not to put bars on them, but I will if I have to.” He warned, and she knew he meant it. No more window themed escapes for her.

“Don’t fret, jagi.” He cooed getting up and strolling around the coffee table to kneel in front of taking her hands in both of his. His hands dwarfed hers. “You’ll be well taken care of here. I even have a gift for you.”

“What more could you possibly do to me?” She spat trying to pull her hands away from his, but his grip tightened preventing her from doing so.

“I haven’t done anything yet, jagi.” There was that smile again. It would have been such a warm expression if only it could reach his eyes, but those remained cold and hard. “I have no intentions of hurting you.”  

“I doubt that very much.” She huffed trying once more to pull her hands from his though the effort was futile.

He took one of his hands away to reach for something on the coffee table, a little black box that had previously escaped her notice, and her eyes widened at the sight of it. The box was opened to reveal a ring nestled against the velvet. It was large and glinted wickedly in the light. The center stone rested proudly in a nest of smaller diamonds that ringed it in sharp contrast all tied together in a silver band. The black diamond shimmering in the middle reminded her rather sickeningly of his eyes. They were both dark and cold.

“What is this for?” She asked eyes the piece of jewelry suspiciously. “Please… please don’t tell me this is meant to be a wedding ring.”

He smiled at her again, this time the expression reached his eyes, and she wasn’t sure which expression was worse. The cold hollow smiles seemed to suit him. They were unnerving and dangerous, but they suited him. This smile held a genuine fondness to it that was far more disconcerting. It suggested that somewhere in that twisted head he actually cared for her, and that was far more terrifying than any anger he could show her.

“Of all the jewelry I plan to give you, jagi, this is the most important.” He explained carefully, removing the ring from its box and taking her limp left hand in his. “This ring is never to leave your finger.” He slipped the offending jewelry onto her finger keeping her hand tucked between both of his. “And I do mean never, Y/N. You won’t like the consequences of if it does.”

“What are the consequences?” She whispered her eyes transfixed on the stone that now weighed down her finger.

He hummed contemplatively reaching up a hand to tilt her chin up so that she was looking at him. That retched smile was still there accompanied by those damned dimples. “I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I’m not a man who takes pleasure in beating his woman like some savage, but I have other ways of punishing you, rest assured. I went to a lot of trouble to bring you here. I won’t have you harmed while you’re under my care.”

She huffed out a laugh bordering on the hysteric as she moved her head away from his hand. “I’m sure the great RM had so much trouble kidnapping one foreign girl.”

“You will call me Namjoon, never RM, not to you.” The correction was emphatic as though it offended him to hear her call him by that name any longer. “You are after all for all intents and purposes, Mrs. Kim.”

“No.” The word came out as a whisper. She shot up from her seat breaking away from him to pace in front of the fireplace ignoring the nausea and light headedness the sudden motion caused.  “No!” She was more frantic now. “You can’t… you can’t…” She had stopped pacing a rush of dizziness going through her causing her to lean on the fireplace for support as she swayed on her feet.

“Y/N.” Concern colored his features as he slowly rose to his feet. “Y/N, come sit down.” He held out a hand to her trying to convince her to come back to the sofa.

“You can’t just… just…”

He watched horrified as the color drained from her face, her eyes wide, blinking in an attempt to banish the black dots that spotted her vision. And in the next moment she dropped crumpling like a rag doll as she did.

part 8

[jadethest0ne]

In need of Refueling, Chapter 11 - Help

Summary:  “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the  White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red  Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2173

Ratings/Warnings:  Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse

Notes: Time for Red Son and Sandy to have a talk

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo  for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep  some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!  

Read on AO3

———-

He must have passed out at some point because Red Son wakes up, finding himself still on the floor, leaning up against the bed. Pillows and blankets have been stuffed around him and a heater has been placed in the small space. The shivers he was experiencing earlier have quieted down to a low rumble beneath his skin, and he feels much more cozy.

There is a tray in front of him as well, with some more tea and a couple of bean buns on it. From the steam coming from the tea, he can tell it is still warm. The steam reminds him of his sudden lack of powers, and he sinks his nose down into the blankets, hitching his shoulders up to his ears in remembered embarrassment and shame. Not only is he injured, but without his powers he is utterly defenseless.

A gurgle from his stomach alerts him to how empty it is, and he eyes the tray once more. He weighs having to leave his little cocoon of warmth to eat, but ultimately decides that having something warm to eat and drink will satisfy both his hunger and his need for heat. The thought that they might be poisoned did cross his mind, but he logics that if the Blue One was going to kill him, he wouldn’t have bothered healing him first. No, there had to be another reason he was going through all this trouble.

Red Son worms his arm out from the blankets and reaches down to the tray, picking up a bun and sinking his teeth into the plump bread. It has the perfect texture - soft and pliant, but firm enough that there isn’t a hint of sogginess where it touches the sweet beans inside. The bean paste has a nice creamy texture to it, with grains of surgery goodness. A contented mumble purrs out of his mouth as he chews on the sweet treat. He gets through half a bun before his dry throat reminds him to slow down and drink something. He takes a sip of the tea, which has a pleasant bitterness to it, with a mixture of ginger and flowery fragrance balancing it out. The tea and the buns compliment each other nicely. Red Son couldn’t remember eating or drinking something with so much apparent care and flavor put into it in a long time. If the big guy’s snacks taste this good, he wonders vaguely what any meals he makes taste like. Not like Red Son intends to stick around very long to find out though. A part of him that he doesn’t want to listen to quite yet, wonders where he’d even go.

Instead, he turns his thoughts to his present circumstances. Where is that big guy anyway? There are still a few cats in the room, but true to the man’s warnings they stay away, eyeing Red Son cautiously. Chewing through the first bean bun, he picks up the second one and notices another two items on the tray - a bell and a note. The note says ‘Red Son: I hope you enjoy the tea and bean buns. Please ring the bell if you need assistance.’

Red Son rolls his eyes at this. Like he wants anything to do with an enemy. Then again, he did seem to care for his injuries and give him some (extremely tasty) tea and snacks. But why? Red Son still can’t figure that out. He huffs out an anxious breath and puts down the last half of the second bean bun, stomach now having been filled despite the small amount of food. He slowly nurses the rest of his tea as he contemplates the situation. Where would he go? What happened to his parents? Would they even want a now powerless demon like him around?

After staring out at space for a bit, getting distracted at nothing but the same questions rolling around in his brain, he notices that his tea has gotten a bit cold. His body is also really achy from sleeping on the floor the whole time. He tentatively stretches out his sore limbs as best he can despite the bandages. He contemplates the distance from the floor to the bed, and decides that he can totally get up there by himself. He struggles onto his knees, careful of his sore ankle, and puts a hand on the bed.

A meow distracts his progress. He looks down to see that blue cat with the tuft of fur that matches the big guy’s mohawk. It’s pawing at his leg and giving him a meaningful look.

“What’s wrong with you? Go away! I’m trying to do something!” Red Son swats at the cat.

The cat responds with more meowing.

“Pft, dumb loud cats,” Red Son grumbles as he tries to ignore the yowling, and shifts his body upwards. He wobbles on one leg, but keeps steady with his hand on the bed. Unfortunately, the bedding is too fluffy to give him sturdy enough leverage to help him up to it. He lurches forward trying to use the momentum to get him up, but instead finds himself doubled over in pain, as his ribs protest the movement. His leg gives a final wobble, and he slips back to the floor with a grunt. He muffles a yell of pain and frustration in the soft mattress.

“Are you all right?”

The loud, but somehow still soft voice causes Red Son to flinch back. He swallows another grunt of pain, in the form of a growl he throws at the Blue One who had appeared in the room. “Of course I’m not all right! I-- I…” He looks to the side unhappily. “I can’t get into the bed.”

“You could have asked for help,” the man says matter-of-factly. “I left a bell.” He smiles genuinely and points to the bell still on the tray.

“I don’t need your help.” Red Son grumbles.

The blue man blinks, then squats down to Red Son’s level, and tilts his eyebrows upward, as if trying his best to appear as small and non-threatening as can be. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know?”

With an eye-roll, Red Son huffs, “Well, I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Technically, you did,” the man points up a finger.

“Listen,” Red Son says ignoring that obvious falsehood. “I’ve been completely fine on my own before. I’ve never had to ask for help! I don’t know what you’re doing here by bandaging me up and stuff, but I’m not playing your game! I don’t need your help! I can do this myself if I just try a bit more!”

“I’m sure you can!”

Red Son gives him a rueful look at his placating tone.

The man’s eyes soften. “But you don’t have to.”

Red Son’s instinct would be to argue further, but there’s something just so darn honest about the man’s tone and a gentleness in his eyes. He mulled over the man’s words. He hadn’t thought of it that way.

The man speaks up again, his gentle demeanor not changing in the slightest. “Would you like to get in the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get in the bed by yourself?”

“...Not… easily,” Red Son decides.

“Would it be easier and less painful if I helped you?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be okay if I helped you get in the bed?” The man holds out an offering hand, palm up.

Red Son looks between it and the man. He nods slowly.

“Okay!” The Blue One beams like Red Son just made his day.

Red Son grimaces and squints as if he is looking directly at the sun.

It ends up being much easier getting into bed with the man’s help. Red Son gets the feeling that the Blue One could’ve just picked him up and put him in bed. But he took care to allow Red Son to go through the motions of pulling himself up and shifting into a sitting position on the bed, as if he had done it on his own, and not that his entire weight was being supported by the Blue One. Red Son decides to not dwell on that fact, and tries to hold onto the last dregs of dignity he had left. Once in bed, the man moved the pillows and blankets back in place once again creating a warm cocoon for the demon to be nestled in. He also moved the heater closer to the bed, and brought him a new cup of warm tea.

A big part of Red Son hates all of this unnecessary pampering, but he was beginning to get very tired and cold again and he didn’t have the energy to fight back.

“Why did you help me?” Red Son asks finally.

“Like I said before, you asked me to!” the man says jovially.

“No, not the bed thing - why did you rescue me?”

“You asked me to do that, too!” Upon seeing Red Son’s disbelieving expression he says, “Well, technically, I don’t think you knew it was me you were asking - you were kind of out of it -  and also maybe you don’t remember because of the whole shock, and cold, and being injured thing…” Red Son notes that the blue one really likes talking with his hands as they gesture about in his explanation. Either way, Red Son is not convinced.

“But why? This must be some sort of trick, or maybe a way to hold me hostage for-- you’re not going to try to use me as leverage for my parents, are you? Or-- what happened to my parents?! You haven’t captured them, too?!” Red Son’s voice starts pitching wildly, and he casts a highly suspicious gaze at the man.

“Woah, woah there! It’s not any of that!” The man holds up his hands in surrender. “MK was able to stop DBK. It’s… difficult to explain what happened, but you all were carried away by a, uh, flash flood…” Red Son quirks an incredulous eyebrow up at that. But the Blue One continues, “I happened to find you washed up on shore by my house boat. To be honest, I don’t know what happened to your parents. ” He shrugs apologetically, as Red Son’s eyebrows knit together at that revelation.

He mulls over the explanation. But something didn’t track right. “But I-- I attacked your friends. We’re… enemies! There’s… no way you would help me unless you had some sort of a plot.”

“Red Son,” the Blue One says, (again with that annoying, honest, gentle voice!). “I helped you because you asked, and I wanted to. No other reason than that. You are free to go and look for your parents whenever you want.”

Red Son sits there, confused. He considers himself very good at reading people. If this guy wanted to intimidate him and hold him hostage, he could easily do so through force, if his appearance is any indication of that. But instead he used everything in his power to appear not threatening. So either the Blue One was one of the best liars that Red Son had ever seen, or he was telling the truth. And he isn’t sure which explanation perplexed him more. Furthermore, if he was free to go and he did find his parents, would they even want him back? Maybe this was secretly a ruse to do so and find that they had actually disowned them. He would certainly deserve that after what he did…

Red Son shakes his head as if to rid himself of those thoughts. “How did you know my name?” he asks instead.

“I try to remember the names of everybody that I know.” The man gives a toothy smile, and points a thumb at himself. “My name’s Sandy, by the way!”

Red Son scrunches up his nose in what he hopes is convincing disgust and not embarrassment at not knowing an enemy’s name. “O-of course I knew that was your name, Blue One! I just don’t lower myself to using the names of peasants!” He tries to make a show of folding his arms, but it’s difficult when one is bandaged to his torso.

The Blue One laughs loud and heartily, which is not the reaction that Red Son wanted, but by now he supposes is the reaction he should expect from this impossibly happy man. “That’s fine! But please,” he places the tray with the bell on a table next to the bed. “Feel free to ask for assistance if you ever need it!”

Red Son grunts in response and buries his nose back under the covers, sinking into the cocoon of blankets. He realizes that he is still very tired and his eyes drift shut. He feels that he can maybe relax a little bit around the Blue On-- Sandy. Still, uncertainty about his parents and his powers bubble beneath the surface. Maybe it would be better if he stayed here. He couldn’t show his face to his parents. Not after all this.

start || <– previous // next –>

[auncyen]

So a long time ago I wrote a start of a fic where Ryuji gets knocked out from Shido's explosion and is thrown back into the real world, unconscious. Ren brings him to Takemi's clinic and then answers Ryuji's phone when he realizes Mama Sakamoto is calling, attempting to make some kind of cover story for Ryuji not coming home or answering his phone before it becomes apparent she ID'd Ryuji from the video calling card. She's coming over to the clinic, and she wants answers.

AND THAT'S WHERE IT STALLED FOREVER. If anyone would like to take a look at what I have of part 2, where she gets to the clinic:

Ren was in the middle of sending an update to the group chat when the door to the clinic opened. The woman who walked in was short and dark-haired, and Ren had the split-second impulse to ask her if she had a real emergency--god knew he didn't want anything drawing Takemi's attention away from Ryuji right now--before her eyes landed on him with a look of such contempt that Caroline might have asked for tips.

The text for the group chat was forgotten. It would have only been to report that there was nothing to report yet. "Sakamoto-san?" he hazarded, his voice wavering.

"Where," she said flatly, "is my son."

He didn't know why it should have thrown him off so much that her hair wasn't bleached blond--of course it wasn't. But even besides that, she really didn't look like Ryuji at all. Short, somewhat stout, with a wider nose and other differences in the face...when it came to looks, Ryuji must have taken after his father's side.

Ren immediately knew he'd rather eat one of his daggers than say that to either mother or son.

"Sakamoto-san," Takemi said, emerging from the back. "Your son is in here. He suffered a concussion and Amamiya-kun brought him to me for examination." Her tone was a bit more polite than her usual, if still casual, and Ren appreciated that maybe she was trying to pull his fat from the fire.

"I want an explanation for all of this," Sakamoto-san said angrily. "...But I want to see him, first."

Ah. Now Ren saw the family resemblance, both in her expression and her protectiveness.

Takemi nodded, opening the door for Sakamoto-san to go in. Ren started to rise from his seat, wanting to see Ryuji himself, but a flat look from the doctor stopped him cold. She didn't want him following.

Logically, he knew Takemi was simply keeping things orderly and controlled. Ryuji's mother was upset, and Takemi knew she was mad at him already. Better to keep him out of the room if Sakamoto-san might take any of Takemi's news badly.

But the feeling that stirred in his gut was blame and guilt, making him cover his face with his hands after the door had closed. He felt sick.

He couldn't deny his responsibility. It had been his idea to stall in the safe room instead of immediately stealing Shido's treasure after Futaba broadcasted the calling card. If stalling had been the deciding factor in Shido being able to manipulate his own cognition and cause the violent collapse... Then it was completely his fault.

He shouldn't even care about what Ryuji's mother thought of him, anyway. That could wait until after Ryuji had woken up. But the cold way she'd looked at him hurt, pathetically enough. He'd really hoped that she would like him. Mostly because Ryuji was afraid she'd be upset when he came out to her--she'd asked a couple of times about him getting a girlfriend. Ren was hopeful, considering she'd supported her son through thick, thin, and hair bleach, and might only be asking about girlfriends because Ryuji was way more vocal about his interest in cute girls than cute guys, but he understood Ryuji's fear. There was always the chance that it would be the one thing too far. So he'd wanted to make a good impression on her when they met, hoping it'd help her accept it better whenever Ryuji was ready to come out.

But Ren had also just...selfishly wanted Ryuji's mother to like him. He'd wanted to make a good impression on her because Ryuji always lit up when he talked about her, and she sounded like a great mom, and Ren wanted someone like that to look at him and think that he could be a decent match for her son. That he was a good kid.

Well. He'd fucked that up already. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes, forcing a deep breath as he tried to press the tears back. This wasn't the time for being weak and selfish. He had to worry about Ryuji waking up first. Then he could worry about making sure Ryuji wasn't grounded forever, and that he wasn't strangled for endangering Ryuji.

Except that still left him with nothing he could do for the time being.

He felt so useless. He wished he could have taken Ryuji to Shibuya station. If he could have just gotten him to the entrance of Mementos with Morgana, the two of them might have been able to heal Ryuji. But they hadn't been sure if cognitive healing would help when someone was plain knocked out cold in the real world; bringing him to the clinic had seemed the safer bet. But now...

Ren groaned. First he'd left Akechi behind a solid wall of metal on a ship that was now sunk. And now, Ryuji...

Takemi was speaking to Ryuji's mother in the room at length, and Ren rested his head against the wall, hoping to hear through it. Good news? Bad news? He could only hear her tone, calm and level. Takemi wasn't the type to sugarcoat, but she still highlighted better outcomes when they were possibilities to her patients. She'd said once that people often had improved outcomes if they were given attentive care and thought they should get better. She called it a placebo effect. Morgana called it the power of cognition.

But since Ryuji wasn't conscious, he didn't know he was being treated by one of the best doctors in Tokyo. That he should get better and just please wake up.

Ryuji's mother didn't seem any happier when Takemi opened the door for her to step back out into the waiting room. Ren felt his whole body stiffen when Takemi closed the door again, half-expecting to be screamed at, but Ryuji's mother just stared him down. When she spoke, her voice was tightly controlled. "So you're the leader of the Phantom Thieves. What must your parents think?"

"My parents?" he echoed.

She laughed, but it sounded more disbelieving than genuine. "You think they don't know? I recognized Ryuji plain as day under that weird skull-mask. Yours shows even more of your face. Do they actually approve of all this?"

That was a question he hadn't even considered recently, and he weighed what honest answer he could give her that didn't sound self-pitying. No, he didn't think they knew at all. They didn't have reason to look at the calling card too closely. Didn't have any suspicions about his after school activities, or any clue that he wasn't even in school for the time being. Ryuji's phone had several voicemails from his mother tonight alone. Ren's phone hadn't rang once tonight, and it had been a while since he had gotten a message from either his father or mother.

He was taking too long to answer; something in Sakamoto's expression shifted. "I don't have their approval," he said quickly, before she could get further upset. "I act for my own sense of justice."

"An' you dragged Ryuji right along into it," Sakamoto said.

That wasn't quite accurate, but Ren nodded anyway. "...Yes." It had a grain of truth to it: Igor had given the app to him. Ryuji would never have been thrown into the metaverse if he hadn't run into Ren. And it would be better to just get this over with. Take her anger and her blame. It was his fault she was upset.

Ryuji's mother took a long, deep breath. "What happened?"

"It's...hard to explain."

"Sure, you steal hearts and desires and whatnot. I still want an explanation," she pressed.

...He had no idea if she'd be patient enough for an explanation of the Metaverse. He'd bet on not. So he described the situation in broad strokes: "The group was in trouble. Ryuji took a risk to get us out safe. And he pulled it off. We could have all ended up dead if it wasn't for him." Futaba didn't know how to swim. Even for the rest of them, the waters had been turbulent enough that Ren didn't think their odds would have been good, not when they'd also had to navigate to their entrance point in the dark of night, already exhausted from a grueling fight. Perhaps some of them would have made it out...he doubted it would have been all of them. "But he got hurt. I'm--I'm sorry. It's my fault we were in that position."

"Why?"

"I...made the group wait before we changed Shido's heart. I was hoping..." Ren's voice shook, and the rest of the words failed to come.

He'd been hoping Akechi would show up. If Akechi had been alive, no matter if he was hiding somewhere in the Palace or trying to stay under the radar in Tokyo, as soon as they'd took over the airwaves with their calling card and set the Palace's security to high alert, Akechi would know. He would know they were taking Shido's heart. He would know that they would be in the Palace.

He could have joined them. So Ren had asked everyone to wait for an hour in one safe room as he warped between all of them and entrance, checking to see if Akechi would manage to drag himself in. Ann and Ryuji had both volunteered to help, and he'd been grateful, but he figured it was better if everyone else stayed together so they weren't split up between several different locations. When he hadn't spotted Akechi in the hour, he'd come back to the group and asked Futaba if she could do a scan for him--a last-ditch request, since she had every right to refuse to help.

Futaba had looked absolutely miserable. She'd already tried multiple scans. There was nothing. Ren had made everyone wait for nothing. He should have known it was too much to hope after Akechi had closed himself off behind the door. He'd only given Shido more time to counter.

"We were missing one," Ren said finally. Maybe Akechi would have objected to being counted as one of the group, but it was the simplest way to explain now. And he...wasn't going to object, anyway. "I made the group wait, but they never showed."

"They in some kind of trouble?"

The question surprised him a little, but this wasn't a subject he wanted to dwell on any longer. "Nothing I can help with," Ren said.

-and that's it so far.

And I'm just kind of......unsure where to go from there. Which makes me wonder if I should have started the dialogue differently or change something else earlier or...what.

[shintorikhazumi]

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

A/N: I might do a part 2 to this, maybe. Also, Sorry to the one who requested something else first. Still looking for a trope to match your description :’<, but I will get to it!! Please do submit um, specific tropes. That will also make it kinda easier :)). Thank you!

Sorry if this isn’t quite what you had in mind? I had fun though. Will try to stick closer to the theme next time ;-;. Really need to practice. This feels more like… unintended? Marriage? Then Accidental? Yep. I might just need to redo this prompt someday huehuehue. I’ve been burnt out of good ideas lately so. This is ;-; sorry. Realized too late, and couldn’t retract, rip.

This is not a short, it seems. I have failed. Both the short, and the prompt. I’m sorry. ;-;

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

“This… was not quite what I meant before when I said I needed a partner who could stand alongside me on stage forever.” Claudine muttered, still shocked as she played with the ring on her finger, beholding it with some sort of awe, and slight awkwardness.

“Is that so?” The question was followed by a thoughtful hum. “This was exactly what I had in mind, though.” Maya smiled flirtatiously across the table, act perfect as always as she pretended Claudine’s words and the migraine she currently sported did not hurt her as much as they actually did.

“Hmmm.” Claudine simply continued to scrutinize the jewelry that now adorned her finger, not sparing Maya a glance.

This made the latter deflate, confidence shrinking by the minute. Claudine… did she really dislike the situation all that much?

Maybe Maya should find this sudden, forced(?) romantic engagement weird as well. After all,

They were only best friends.

And best friends didn’t just wake up side-by-side, married, out of the blue.

-As much as Maya loved the mere idea of it.

The events of yesternight were surprisingly vivid and fresh in her mind; Claudine’s as well. This only served to feed the uncomfortable atmosphere and embarrassment between them as they tried to wrap their heads around the thought of them actually, legitimately, officially being married.

How had it even come to that point?

Well…

It all started with Maya’s celebratory party after a successful nation-wide tour for her new show. Claudine had come to watch the top star in all her glory on the closing night, and had gotten herself invited along with the cast afterwards while the pair had been exchanging pleasantries and the usual congratulations. Claudine had been pulled along so naturally, like she was meant to be with the group, and it wasn’t even on Maya’s request.

Maya was ever in awe of her former partner’s charisma, drawing her own cast to the French actress, as if she were their companion these past few months of dedicated rehearsals and shows.

She was happy, and just the slightest bit jealous. Of Claudine or her cast? Maya didn’t really know.

Another thing she did not know was that everyone knew something. That there was something different, different about Maya and Claudine, leading to this turn of events.

After months of dealing with a stoic Maya with minimal genuine emotions slipping by, they’d known in a heartbeat when things changed. Changed when Saijou Claudine, her best friend, was around. They’d have to be blind to not notice how Tendou Maya was always much more enthusiastic in practice whenever Claudine would drop by. Though of course, she was always perfect during any performance, whether in practice or the final thing.

But the troupe knew it was different. It just was. As unexplainable as it was.

There would be weeks when Claudine would never show up, and sometimes it felt like practice was a little tense. Maya was like a deprived pup, waiting on her owner, eyes darting to the door at the end of the practice hall any chance she’d get. She thought she was being discreet, but no. No, she was not.

By no means did her distraction ever weigh anyone down. Maya would die before letting something as trivial as feelings get to her. But… it was clear when her heart was in a place separate from the stage. It never did leave, but it occasionally wandered off, taking its steps farther and farther to where Claudine was as time went by.

Moments like those, the cast had learned to deal with. With how often Claudine came over, they’d all gotten to know each other enough to exchange numbers, and it was simply an easy matter of praying the woman wasn’t too busy for a quick video call, the troupe members shoving a smiling Claudine on their phone screen, the blonde tutting Maya and telling her to move her ass along and stop troubling the rest of the group.

They could just see the light beaming off of Maya even as she was being scolded; so happy, so pleased.

‘Best friends’ their ass.

She’d make a haughty, faux-prideful remark and Claudine would call her out on it, be her usual irritated self with the occasional “mechante va!” . Maya would laugh airily at her, before calming down and mumbling softly how she missed Claudine, how she wished she could pay her a visit- selfish as it sounded. Claudine would then apologize for being so busy, tell Maya that her schedule was hectic at the moment, but that she’d try to swing by one way or another soon. The cast would pretend they didn’t hear the longing in the pair’s tones over the phone, how Maya’s usually perfect posture would slip, frame slouching in poorly-hidden sorrow.

Being apart clearly tore at her. But what could anyone do? Maya had chosen the world of Takarazuka, and Claudine went to walk on broadway. It was surprising enough that they were able to still visit one another as often as they did, Maya surely having been on Claudine’s sets more than once, always welcome, and ever well-known.

They were inseparable, not only physically, but in public image and name as well.

And so with all this knowledge, it was only the obvious choice that Claudine would be invited as an honorary guest to the afterparty, right? No problems with that, right?

….right. Maybe.

Everything had been going swell at first. All was the norm when it came to these somewhat generic parties. There were the usual speeches, acknowledgements, some challenges, karaoke and games. Yes, games. And one game just so happened to swerve them completely off of the safe course.

Maya had been observing Claudine the whole night from where she was seated at the head of the table with important producers and guests. She tried her utmost to hide the annoyance at being interviewed after a long show, unable to enjoy the ambience of the festivities. Coupled with that were the people attempting to get with her, or at least suck up to her good graces. Albeit, she should be used to all this, with Claudine so near, yet so out of reach, it only served to tick her off each second that went by with these snakes of men and women coiling about her, choking her with their disingenuous praises.They were as acid in her ears, burning hot and unwelcomely painful.

The horrid collective concentration of their too-strong “fancy” perfumes with scents all jumbled and odd, along with all the alcohol they made her down (she willingly did so, if only to distract herself from all of them) made bile tickle the bottom of her throat, humiliation threatening to make its appearance.

‘Ah, how annoying.’

She’d much rather be next to one gorgeous French woman, standing alongside all her underrated castmates- these moneybags never gave their potentials a second glance, the idiots. She’d much prefer to be dancing the night away to the oddest of tunes, but enjoying each moment all the same with the rest of her new family, alongside one who had always been her family. And her home. And-... she would stop herself right there.

She hadn’t the right to claim Claudine like that. Not while she remained cowardly, concealing her affections each and every day. She shouldn’t. Not until she made the effort to be able to.

Maya sighed, downing another glass of beer. She was beginning to feel a migraine coming on. She needed a different distraction. One that hopefully did not involve her getting more drunk than she already was.

Who better a distraction than Saijou Claudine then? Beautiful, a sight for sore eyes, voice a pleasing timbre to the ears, aura radiant and warm. Maya sighed, feeling her stress melt away instantly the moment she’d placed her focus on her cherished partner. Now, if only she could call for her attention to save her, or maybe go to her and spend the rest of the night with- wait. Wait a second.

While observing Claudine intently, Maya had realized something. Maya, with all her competitive spirit, had taken note of the fact that Claudine had drunk one glass of alcohol more than Maya. How she knew this? Besides the number of empty glasses laid before the woman on a table as the troupe had currently advanced into a drinking competition, Maya had subconsciously been taking note of each time Claudine called for another drink when Maya managed to spare her a glance. And she always seemed to be taking in more and more!

Therefore, by her very sober mind’s standards, did this not mean that Claudine was trying- and actually being- superior? With the higher tolerance and capacity? Claudine was winning something! And that certainly wouldn’t do! For Maya was always the winner.

Yes! Maya now had the perfect reason to get out of this unwanted bind! She had to defend her honor! She had to maintain her winning streak! She had to best Claudine as she always did in any competition they had! It was tradition; everyone knew of their rivalry since the beginning of time. This was a valid excuse!

With not so much as a word of farewell to the blabbering buffoons she’d be leaving behind, Maya made her exit, stumbling momentarily- whoops, was that supposed to happen?- as she moved out of her seat towards where Claudine currently stood. She had left the drinking game she’d been a part of moments prior, now occupied in talking with one of the show’s directors who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the affairs that Maya had been drowning in, it seemed. And he should have been the one to be receiving all these… those people. He made Maya his scapegoat, the damned old man.

“Tch.”

She observed for a moment as they continued chatting, one moment looking serious, then the next, laughing as if they were old time friends. Was their conversation of great significance at the moment? Maybe. Maybe Maya shouldn’t cut in. But Claudine was animatedly communicating with him, gestures and smiles and all, and something stirred within her at the thought of her best friend so close to this man. Claudine looked like she was having fun. Too much fun. So Maya thought it would be best to interrupt them. Right now.

“Ma Claudine!” She hiccuped, covering her mouth in surprise, and giggling a little ‘sorry’, very amused by the sound that had slipped from her own lips.

“Hmm?” The woman turned around before her eyes widened, moving forward just in time to catch Maya in her arms as she slumped forward. “Maya?! What are-” Her scent… though still as pleasant as always, was mixed with something Claudine didn’t quite fancy as much.

“Claudine? Oh! Claudine! Greetings, my lovely sta-”

Maya had leaned in closer to do who knows what, but Claudine was not having it. Not right now. She pushed her face away, still holding the girl up by the waist. “Maya! You’re drunk! So drunk!” She screeched, already requesting for a glass of water that the director went and fetched from a passing waiter, a glass of relief that Maya adamantly rejected, stomping her foot down with a little whine.

“No! Am not!” She slurred, giggling some more. “But maybe you are!” She poked at Claudine’s chest. “And so you won’t accept my challenge!”

“Challenge?” Claudine shook her head, not wanting to be distracted from the matter at hand. The matter in her hands being an incredibly wasted Maya. “Maya, I think you’ve had a little too much to-”

“You’ve had too much to drink? Haha, I thought so. You’re looking a little red, my dear.” Maya drawled, dragging a manicured nail along Claudine’s cheek, lightly scratching.

“No,” Claudine sighed. “I am very much sober, thank you.” She shook her head fondly. “Come on now, be a good girl for me and take this water.” She tipped the glass the director had passed her, getting Maya to drink somehow.

“I’d say thank you-” Maya exclaimed, pointing a finger into the air, still slumped against Claudine. “But times like these, I can’t be grateful to the enemy. Saijou Claudine!” She patted the said woman’s cheek, maybe a little too hard. It sounded like it would leave a mark.

“Maybe you need more water.” Claudine grit her teeth, very willing to douse Maya with a pitcher with the way she was acting at the moment.

“I challenge you-”

“Are you not listening?!”

“To a drinking contest!”

“I just told you you’ve had enough-”

“Scared?”

“Maya, if you drink any more, you’ll-”

“You’ll lose to me.” Maya grinned, evil and conniving. “Wouldn’t want that now would we? Haven’t won lately, dear Claudine.” Maya chuckled, lips leaning close to a now shaking Claudine, irritation and fury building. Maya just had to add the spark to the ready fuel. “- or at all.”

“You…. you… mechante va! ” Claudine grabbed Maya by the wrist, taking her to the drinking table, seating her opposite of herself. “I’ll make sure you eat your words. Or well… drink them bitterly. More bitter than any alcohol or your tears. Be prepared, Tendou Maya!”

“Always am, Saijou Claudine. ”

//-//-//-//-//

Ten mugs in and Maya was toeing the edge of consciousness. Or lack of it. Her mind was floaty, hazy, dull.

Still, she could not lose. Not to anyone. Especially not to Claudine. She had to always stay on her toes, and keep Claudine’s eyes on her… she’d also like it if they met her own and they’d stare into one another’s colored gems, the sunset’s rays hitting Claudine so perfectly as they had dinner by the beach, the sound of waves beating against the coast as Maya got down on one knee and- that was not important right now.

Maya had to get through one more drink. She shook irrelevant thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus. Focus.

Focus on… Claudine and her pretty pink eyes, almost identical to the flush of her face, lips parted slightly as she breathed gently over the chilled glass, droplets condensing on the outside and rolling down, and gently falling onto the waxed wood of the table.

‘ Ah… you’re just so… ‘

“Beautiful.”

“What was… that?” Claudine got out, tolerance slipping after so many rounds of drinking, including the ones from her previous match up.

“If I win this… there’s a reward, right?” Maya changed the subject, hoping Claudine was drunk enough to truly not have registered her little slip up. Now was not the time for her desires to be made known. She took in a deep breath of air while their drinks were being refilled. “There is. Right?” Violets pinned Claudine in place, daring her to say no.

“Mmph.” Claudine nodded sloppily, reaching for the full glass, bringing it closer and staring into liquid death. This little contest might just be going too far. Claudine still had work the next day. She knew this. Maya knew this too. Claudine knew that Maya knew this. And yet, here they were, probably way past midnight and into the early morning, drowned in intoxication and pride. And yet, “Whatever you want.”

Maya had never been so irresponsible in her life, to get this inebriated. She knew this was a first for Claudine as well. They were usually so careful and calculated, and just… not this pair of reckless drunkards, consuming glass after glass, staring into each other’s souls, no one willing to back down.

“Whatever… I w-want… you sh-say…” Maya drawled, tapping a finger against her cheek, looking to be in thought.

“Obvious-ugh-... obviously… within my power to give.” Claudine laid her head back against her seat, breathing heavily through her nose and huffing out strongly, hoping she wouldn’t just spill her guts right then and there.

She was going to fucking win this.

“And if you won? Whaateveeerr could Claudine Saijou even need, or want in this world?” Maya giggled, taunting. “I’ll give it to you. All of it. Even if it were to be the moon that you wanted, or a star.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not as unrealistic as you.” Claudine waved.

The twentieth glass glared at them through the table.

Maya could barely manage to read Claudine’s body language, but she knew the girl was at her limit. Well, she was too. Her beautiful best friend remained staring into the cup.

“Giving up?”

Claudine shot her a glare, one that sent electricity coursing all throughout Maya’s entire being. She loved it. She loved it so much. This feeling, that gaze, that Claudine. She loved her.

And all Maya wanted to do was be able to tell her without fearing rejection. Why she ever did was stupid. She knew Claudine, and Claudine knew her. They knew each other’s minds, almost as if they shared them. She knew Claudine’s kind and gentle heart. She would feel her affections, sweetness, and genuine thoughts in every action.

So why was she so hesitant?

Why did she still think that Claudine might not return her feelings?

Maybe it was because she knew she could be too egotistical and assuming; assuming that everyone loved her, and always would. Because they just did.

But Claudine wasn’t everyone.

Claudine didn’t fawn over her every gesture, or plaster her posters along her wall, or cry out for autographs, or send her billions of gifts and mails and extravagant whatevers.

Claudine just stayed by her side. Even after seeing how weak Maya truly was.

Even now, in her insecure, lowly, shameful state.

Claudine loved her.

Maybe.

Maya wasn’t brave enough to confirm that sober, so maybe this little contest reaped good benefits for her after all.

She had a chance if she won. Yes. She’d use the reward to request Claudine to go out on a date with her, then they’d go to this quaint little cafe, just like the ones Claudine loved in back in France, and Maya would get her a dress in a shop, and take her on a boat ride and-

“Maya.”

“Do you like the swan boats, or the wooden ones?”

“...huh?”

“O-oh.” Snapping out of her reverie, Maya asked Claudine to repeat her words, apologizing for being absent-minded.

“Iiit’s… it’s alright.” Claudine blinked, brow raised in question, before shaking her head in dismissal. “Anywaaay,” she sighed. “I… said I’ll sh-stop. Tch. I give in. You win.”

Claudine sounded a lot less drunk then Maya, but maybe the glass of water in her hand, as well as the lack of people around them explained that Maya had been out of it for a while. Really, Maya was so far gone from the world that she hadn’t noticed most of her troupe and guests had already headed on home. Even the bartender who had been serving them up to this point was already wiping down the far ends of the counter, preparing to close up.

She would have been concerned about all that, if not for one little detail...

“Araaaa~Ara, Shaijou-shaannn~” She grinned. “Admitting de-*hic*-feat is so unlike y- ack”

Claudine retracted the hand that had just chopped Maya on the head. “Quiet. Drink your water and let’s go home.”

“Eeehhh...”

Claudine sighed. She barely had enough of a mind to be thinking straight right now. She really should have stopped this stupid little thing sooner. She was lucky enough to notice that Maya had very much passed out seated, and she knew she was on the brink of losing her rationality as well. So she just wanted them both to get home in one piece before she lost all semblance of controlled thought. They needed to be home safe. Home separately, not together of course, not that they lived together. Not that Claudine minded , but… oh God. She was really getting there.

“You haven’t forgoootteeen about my… -eugh- ahh… reward though? Have you?” Maya managed, wiping the drool from her cheek as she asked for another glass of water.

“I’m starting... to think you’ll be the one t-to forget it very soon.” Claudine sighed, feeling her eyes begin to droop, rubbing her face with her palms. “Buuut... whatever.  Get it over with. What ish-is it that you want, insufferable woman?” She still tried to maintain her coherent speech, shamed enough for losing their little bet.

Through her exasperated tone, Maya still heard fondness and sprinkles of mirth, Claudine smiling at her gently, even if her brows were furrowed. Ever the good sport. Maya loved her like this too.

“Sooo? Hurry up? We don’t... have all the time in the world here?

Right. Maya’s reward. A response.

Drinking more of her water, she prepared her tongue to speak the necessary words.

‘I want to date you. I want to go out with you. Please go out with me. Please be my girlfriend, please be mine.’

“Maya?” Claudine was beginning to get worried as Maya just stared at her blankly.

‘I love you.’

“Oi. Tendou Maya!”

‘You’re beautiful, inspiring and amazing.’

“Maya? Ma Maya?”

‘I love you. I want to be with you. For a long long time. Please go out with me. Say it Maya. God damn, SAY IT!’

“Tendou Maya!” Claudine shook her by the shoulders, very concerned now by the lack of response, that concern quickly turned into surprised confusion as Maya blurted out her request.

“How about your hand in marriage?”

“...”

‘ What did she just…’

Claudine was in too much shock, too drunk to comprehend what the hell Maya had just asked. So just as stupidly, she replied,

“Sure whatever.”

Maya felt herself slightly sober up suddenly. Wait… didn’t she just say… and Claudine said... “Is… Is that…. Are you shue-su… sure?? Are you-”

Claudine sighed, headache coming on quick. She hoped she had aspirin in her bag. Or car. Or- ah gosh dang it, she wasn’t in the safest state to drive. “Go on ahead, you idiot.”

“But…” Maya tried to reach out for Claudine, still fairly surprised. “What about yoouur… feehlinshh-whoops.” She had stumbled forward again, Claudine catching her the same way she did earlier that night.

Just a lot less sober.

Claudine sighed, taking a sip from her water glass on the counter, hoping to keep her mind for moments longer. Downing one big gulp, she decided maybe it wasn’t so bad to be honest from time to time. Maya was a lot less sharp- scratch that. She was completely dense when it came to Claudine, it seemed. Or maybe she was pretending not to know of the blonde’s feelings for her. Whichever it was, Claudine had no better chance to tell Maya something she’d otherwise never allow the light of day to see.

The truth of her feelings. It was fine. Nothing would be amiss after this, even if Maya understood it now. Tomorrow would be a normal day. So Claudine just needed to tell her honestly, and wholeheartedly, try to make these feelings known tonight. Not that Maya would remember this in the morning. Not that Claudine wanted her to.

This water tasted funny.

But Claudine needed to confess first.

“Don’t you know I’ve…”

‘Huh? What is this… why is everything suddenly so hazy and…’

“likaefgfin you fer so”

“Whaaat was thaaat?” Maya replied a little too loud for Claudine’s eardrums to take.

She barely registered the bartender cursing under his breath, apologizing for leaving that drink on the counter fairly close to Claudine’s water. It was supposed to be his. A strong drink for him to unwind with.

“Ah, Fuck it.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I have to admit, as weird as it feels, I’m impressed.” Claudine whistled, still looking at the metal band wrapped about her finger, fitting perfectly, design simple, yet intricate- and how did that even work. A beautiful purple sapphire rested at the apex of its curve. Claudine admired it carefully. “I really am impressed. How you managed to arrange all this, drunk. Rings and all, even marriage papers.”

Claudine sorted through her memories of the day hours prior to their current afternoon meal time on Claudine’s apartment balcony, admiring the sunset that was closing in. Fragments of images of them walking up to an empty church with Maya shaking down a priest to marry them haunted her recall.

Claudine wasn't all that religious, but Dear Lord, forgive them both.

Claudine felt the intensity of second-hand embarrassment wash over her. Really. What had they been doing at six a.m.?

Right. They had been busy trying to get married.

They even sat in front of the supreme court, waiting for it to open come eight-thirty in the morning. How Maya convinced people there to get them to do the procedures that fast was a mystery in and of itself, but in barely two hours, they were walking onto the street, hand-in-hand, somehow still barely conscious and far from sober enough, with the sun blaring in their eyes, sleep-deprived, and now officially married.

“I still can’t believe your crazy amounts of luck, to have come across a travelling trader. And these rings…” Claudine stroked them gently. “Exotic and from a different country, huh…” She murmured. “Hope they aren’t fake.”

Maya choked on the tea she had been sipping, tongue burnt suddenly. “I-I’ll have you know I have a good eye for these kinds of things.”

Claudine merely hummed again, stirring Maya’s anxiousness up even worse. Maya thumbed the onyx on her own wedding ring, biting her lip nervously, a question on the tip of her tongue escaping after being held back since they’d regained consciousness.

“Do you mind it? Being married to me?” She whispered, hopefully loud enough for Claudine to hear. Or not in case she had an unfavorable answer for Maya that she didn’t know if she wanted to hear. “Does it bother you?”

Claudine’s eyes lifted up, a sparkle in them, and a few shadows swirling about. Maya read it as doubt, but with a conviction. Claudine had something planned. What it was waslost on Maya, but clearly she was about to say something important-

“I mean, I love you. So I hardly mind this arrangement, out of order as it is.” Claudine laughed. “And I’m fairly sure you feel the same way, considering you were the one to propose this. Quite literally propose. So,” She tried her best to offer a reassuring smile, finally looking Maya’s way to meet her eyes and tell her what they both thought about this- “Maya?”

The sight that greeted her was a flabbergasted Tendou Maya, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I… you… I- you- me, l-l”

Claudine blinked, taking Maya’s image all in. Before she broke,

“...pfft- Ahahahaha, you should see your face, Tendou Maya! You look like you can’t believe what I just said!”

“I… I-”

“If you say you actually can’t believe it, I’ll be incredibly heartbroken, you know?” Claudine wiped tears from her eyes; she propped her arm on the table, chin resting on an open palm. “I’d cry a river.” She giggled, but they both knew there was a truth to her words.

Maya was still at a loss. And Claudine was only teasing her more and more. It was frustrating that Maya couldn’t even manage a word out, she couldn’t even tease her back to regain the upper hand-

Wait… didn’t this mean…

“Oh my god.”

“Hmm?” Claudine cocked a brow. “Are you praying or something?”

“You’ve won.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve actually won.”

“Won? Won what, exactly?” Clearly, this victory wasn’t registering in Claudine’s mind, as she still gazed upon Maya tenderly, a soft blush on her face as she lovingly made fun of the girl. Her smile was of a maiden in love, happy and satisfied, and Maya…

“Or am I the one whose won?” A winner to be married to the most wonderful person in the world- unintentional as it was. Maya knew she’d do it all over again. Intentionally, this time.

“If you’re talking about winning me over, then isn’t it a little too late to realize it now, Tendou Maya?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her tea.

Maya blinked. “Maybe.”

“Eh? Not that?”

“But maybe you can take that as your first victory.” Maya’s usual flirtatious smile had returned, but there was a sincerity to it that made Claudine’s heart flutter in her chest, Maya’s eyes so warm adding to the butterflies within her.

“A-and what… what “reward” do I gain from all of this?” She stuttered, suddenly unable to keep her eyes locked with Maya’s.

“My, what a silly question, Ma Claudine.” Maya reached a hand over, taking Claudine’s ringed one in her own. “For haven’t you already won me?”

“...you really are infuriating.”

“Infuriatingly charming?”

“I should not be as calm and accepting as I am in-and-of this situation. I just got proposed to and married in the span of so few hours.” Claudine shook her head, almost in disbelief. Almost. There were too many things grounding her in this reality, proving to her that she indeed was bonded to Maya in sickness and in health.

“That wasn’t a no, and don’t change the subject like that.” Maya laughed, standing up from her seat and walking around the table, standing behind Claudine for a while, unsure if she should proceed with her actions.

“Quit being weird and standing behind me like a stalker. Just hug me if that’s what you were planning on doing. You already did it before all this, what’s stopping you now?”

“Th-things are different this time, clearly I’d be a little nervous!.”

“Wuss.” Claudine teased, but her heart was beating way too loudly in her chest.

“Ever the sharp tongue.” Maya sighed fondly, wrapping her arms around Claudine from behind, kissing her on the temple.

“You like it.”

“I do, Mrs. Tendou.”

“Hmm? Are you still drunk? You got a little confused there, Tendou Maya.” Claudine chuckled, a hand reaching for Maya’s left and kissing the back of it, before kissing the ring.

“Not at all? Are you forgetting something? Tendou Claudine?”

“Ten- ah…” Claudine’s face burst into flames, the realization finally sinking in. That she was actually married to the person she loved for so long. So unconventionally too. She would have been consumed by these emotions, but then again, there was something wrong about that statement that stirred up her competitive nature. “Why do I take your name?”

“Well, obviously, I-”

“Saijou Maya.”

Both their brows twitched.

“Yes, that just…”

“Doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Tendou Claudine does not work for me either.” Claudine huffed.

“Alright, alright.” Maya laughed. “Mrs. Saijou, would that work for you?”

Claudine turned to give her a bright smile, actually liking how that sounded. “Yes, it would, Mrs. Tendou.”

Staring into one another’s eyes, they felt that familiar magnetic pull they always seemed to have between them, drawing them ever closer. They had always tried to fight against it before, afraid of what the next moment would bring, but now… there was none of that fear. Only reassurance and love.

“May I kiss you, Saijou Claudine?” Maya whispered, softly against Claudine’s lips that were now barely touching her own, breaths mingling and warm.

“You’ve already married me. So why not?”

Soft and teasing, chasing and embracing, their first kiss was all sorts of wonder, and colorful in every way. Their first kiss, and it had happened after they had gotten married.

It truly was out of order, the way they did things. Odd and different, just as everyday was when they were together. Never dull, never getting old. Always something new and changing. Never ordinary. But really, when were they ever the ordinary pair, Maya and Claudine?

Pulling away, Maya laughed. Laughed so hard tears spilled from her eyes until her laughter turned to chuckles, and into sobs, all of joy.

“I love you.”

Claudine felt herself tear up as well, getting up from her seat to hug Maya in full, both of them holding onto one another, neither willing to let go. Whispered reassurances and small kisses brought them down from their emotional high, calming them both as they swayed about in a slow dance on the terrace. They shared words, not really meaning anything at the moment. A few jokes, a few feelings, a little love.

It truly was a wonder how perfect everything fit, and felt. Like it was all natural, the pair so easily getting used to this new lifestyle as sudden as it was.

The stars shone overhead as night fell upon the dancers, the cool breeze wrapping them in its refreshing embrace. Nature provided them their music to a well-practiced dance that only they knew, and Maya had never felt more content in a moment than now. Truly, it was a perfect end to their perfect wedding day. But something seemed to be missing...

“Honeymoon?”

“...”

“Not here, obviously. Bahamas?”

“...”

“Claudine?”

Face heated and hidden in Maya’s neck, Claudine mumbled, “You truly have no shame…” She groaned, but added, “...Only if you’re paying.”.

Maybe some things needed the normal getting used to, after all.

Notes:

A/N: Might make a part 2 if I feel like it. This one was fun! ~Shintori Khazumi

[alice-in-wonderart]

hiii, do you write for xue yang? if yes, could you do some poly!xuexiao headcanons or scenario? whatever its easier to you! maybe with a little angst since xue yang is a hard person. even if you say no, thank you so much for your attention and for your writing, I love what you do 💞

UWU, you made my entire week, thank you so muchhh ❤️❤️❤️ you warmed my heart! Of course, I write for best boy XY~ Honestly, I write for nearly all characters. I picked headcanons, because there is- a LOT to talk about when it comes to poly XueYao and your girl is living for that adventure! I tried making it as angsty as possible, but my THIRST for a happy ending is so strong- I apologise for the delay in answering (life decided to life a bit more these past few days) and I hope you enjoy my take on the relationship~

P.S I might have gone a tad overboard-

I'm changing the canon quite a bit, because XueXiao need happiness and you are that happiness. XXC doesn't know Xue Yang's name until they meet post-blindness, Song Lan doesn't appear until MUCH later and ofc you're there lol.

You know that trope of the angel and the devil on your shoulder? That's your relationship with Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen in short.

It all started when you met Xiao Xingchen during one of his many travels. He was so kind and sweet, understanding and compassionate. You were very fond of his company. Likewise, you didn't underestimate him, you listened to him, you were intelligent, funny, caring, responsible and he quickly found himself drawn to you.

So, it was no surprise when he expressed a certain interest in you. And it was even less of a surprise when you returned his feelings. And life was great.

But then, Xue Yang came into the picture and hit both of you in the hearts like Cupid's arrow. Discovering him on the side of the road was both the best and worst thing that had ever happened to you.

At first, both of you denied your attraction to him, but with every passing day, it grew more and more. The three of you'd spend nearly every second of the day together. The boy was handsome, funny and had a certain aura of...danger to him - one you found to be very charming in it's own way. Xiao Xingchen, too, had a growing fondness for Xue Yang's quick wit and rough play.

Nobody really suggested a poly relationship, it just kind of happened. One day you just grabbed both of their hands and they went with it.

Now, the dynamic between the two of them is much too entertaining. XXC is much more careful and caring, worrying and doting over both you and XY, showering both of you in love and affection. Xue Yang, on the other hand, is much more rough, mischievous and daring. They are the epitome of "good cop bad cop."

It is the most noticeable when you want to do something more dangerous or risky, be it joining a night hunt or anything else that could potentially end with you getting hurt. The response is always Xue Yang's immediate "Hell yes. Count me in" vs Xiao Xingchen's "No wait, what if you get hurt, just be careful."

While Xiao Xingchen is all sweet caresses, gentle hugs and forehead kisses, Xue Yang much prefers hidden inappropriate touches, especially in public, bites and playful smacks. He could endure a bit of scolding from Xiao Xingchen.

They wouldn't necessarily fight over you, but Xue Yang is much more needy when it comes to affection and it shows. God forbid it's just you and Xiao Xingchen without him. He'd be quick to join in, seemingly casually butting into the conversation, but you'd know better. He's lacked affection as a child and you know it, so his touch-starved nature is far from surprising.

Sharing a bed is an adventure. One sleeps unmoving, barely breathing, like a corpse, while the other - kicks and turns. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. Xiao Xingchen is the one who is turns, surprisingly. And of course, you're sandwiched in the middle of it all. Let me tell you, it's all fun and games, until summer rolls around. Sharing a bed in winter is a blessing, but the scorching heat of the summer days has made for some pretty interesting solutions. But nobody refuses to sleep away from the other two. You just HAVE to be bundled up together.

Xue Yang, despite being the self-proclaimed scoundrel of the relationship, is actually the most overly protective of the three of you. Underneath that seemingly devil-may-care attitude of his is a ticking time bomb of emotions ready to explode whenever somebody dares to so much as look at either you or XXC the wrong way.

"So what if he's blind! It's a blessing he doesn't have to witness your ugly damn face."

"Touch her. I dare you. I may not have a pinky, but you won't have a- " cue both of you dragging him far far far away from the situation.

But with life, as life goes, things are never black or white. And amidst the genuine love you three had for each other, trouble was bound to arise eventually.

Xue Yang never truly changed. How could he? The damage was already done. He may have found life with you and Xiao Xingchen to be pleasantly mundane and calm, but something kept weighing him down. And he decided, that it must have been Xiao Xingchen himself - the walking reminder of his past pain and his thirst for vengeance.

Imagine waking up one night, only to see Xue Yang standing next to the bed, staring at Xiao Xingchen holding... something in hand. It was too dark to tell. Upon noticing you're awake, he quickly turns around and leaves the room. And after a few long minutes, you feel the bed bext to you dip down with his weight. "Sleep." he'd mumble, before wrapping an arm around your waist. But somehow - it felt different.

And somehow you get that gut feeling, that perhaps you shouldn't leave Xiao Xingchen alone with Xue Yang. Perhaps you should be there at all times. Perhaps you were just imagining things, but you could swear something was rather off with your dear lover.

And then a fight happened. Now fighting was far from unusual, but this one escalated. It was over something minor, yet Xue Yang was much too hostile. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes - something you were used to, but this time your subconsciousness was screaming for you to run.

"It was you wasn't it?" Xiao Xingchen's gentle-as-ever voice rang, cutting through the unbearable tension, "Baixue Temple, Yueyang Chang Sect, it was you wasn't it, Xue Yang?"

And Xue Yang would just laugh and laugh. "I am glad you didn't forget me, dear Daozhang." And through a wicked smile, he'd tell his story of the missing pinky, sparing none of the gruesome details. And you'd realize, that all this time you'd been sharing your bed, your food...your love and relationship with a madman.

But that didn't make you want him any less. Not after so much time together. Not after falling in love. The situation was much more dire for Xiao Xingchen. He'd fallen utterly in love with the one who'd-

Yet he loved him so much. You loved him so much. And God, did it hurt, because through that fake smile of his, Xue Yang was fighting with himself. He didn't want his heaven to disappear. You - his wonderful candy, and his precious Daozhang were the cure for boredom he'd needed, the compassion he'd seeked for as a child, the understanding and caring he longed for.

And he wasn't ready to let go.

He'd try to attack, but it would be futile. Deep down Xue Yang knew, that he didn't want to hurt either of you. You never looked down on him, you never took advantage of him, you never stopped caring. And when Xiao Xingchen moved in front of you to protect you, yet took away his sword, instead opening his arms, Xue Yang realised, that perhaps for the very first (and only) time - violence and death weren't the only paths to walk on.

And perhaps, with time he'd learn how to properly love. And both Xiao Xingchen and you would be by his side, leading him and showing him what love is.

Perhaps, this relationship was worth fighting for.