#this answer was so much longer before I held myself back lmao
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mad-c1oud · 8 months ago
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Say what inspired you to write a fanfiction between étoiles and charlie slimecicle? because as far as i remember the two of them never interacted with each other but i could be wrong so feel free to correct me
in the beautiful world of shipping, who needs two guys to even interact? I’m delulu
But really! I’ve been a Slimecicle fan for a long time now. I’m usually in that tag on ao3 looking for new fics and one day I saw this fic and the summary hooked me because I’m suuuuuuuuuch a sucker for people being nice to Charlie. that might’ve been when it officially began
didn’t ship them at the time of reading that fic, but it opened my eyes to their potential dynamic. They actually have had a few canon interactions on the qsmp, some that I’ve written about too. I love them as friends and their few interactions always have me laughing
After digging for more content between them, I found the ship fics… there were only a few at the time but it was enough to get my attention
Eventually I was crawling out of my skin with my own ideas and thoughts on the two so I caved and started writing! (Immi wasn’t the first starcicle thing I wrote btw… I have an old draft of another starter chapter for something else that I scrapped when I had the idea of immi…)
And now here we are!
If you want a really fantastic breakdown of why I love their dynamic so much, checkout this post here! It’s required reading o7
So yeah, they are a rarepair and but they are my rarepair and I love them dearly <3
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neteyamslovrr · 2 years ago
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Hiii, I'm mad late to this, don't hate me. 🤣
I'd love to request angst #10 “i trusted you.” with Ao'nung.
HOW STUPID
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another drabble woo!! i am working thru these my god. kinda struggling coz my new meds are kicking my ass LMAO but here is an angsty ao'nung drabble for the man, the myth the legend sia!!!!
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Your gut told you no when you started to think of Ao’nung differently. But your heart cried out for him. His cocky smirks and boisterous laughs. For some reason captured your heart, mind, and soul.
But it was when he changed, when he started to be nicer around you. Sharing small moments together as you walked down the dimly lit shore, hands intertwined as he caressed your thumb.
Your brothers warned you of him and his cruel nature, but you took a chance. Like an idiot you took a chance.
Ao’nung had a spot where his friends would hang out as the dark of the eclipse took over the sky. A bonfire lit in the middle of their circle, flickering orange light dimming on their faces.
You wanted to go to talk to him, ask if he wanted to go for a late night swim. Now you wished that you just stayed home and didn’t bother asking for his company.
A large barrier of mangroves and bushes hid the entrance of the secret spot. Your hand held onto the large greenery about to push it out of the way before your entire body froze.
“so Ao’nung is it true that your courting that forest girl, Y/N?” The tone was snarky, a heated question leading to a decimation of trust.
Your blood ran cold as you heard your name roll of a tongue in such a cold way. Hand letting go of the greenery as your body stiffened. Oh how you wish you left, so you could live in an ignorant bliss.
“The forest freak? Why would I court her, she is nothing to this clan, nothing to me.” Ao’nung scoffed at his friend’s question, as if it was completely ridiculous to ever consider being his mate. What was the purpose of his actions? Why did he spend so much time to change just to act as if you were nothing to him.
Your body was now hot. Furious and devasted at what you had just heard. Heart falling out of your chest as it left an empty cavity of hurt within you. How could he do this to you. You trusted him.
Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. There was no use holding them back as you sobbed down the shore. Your entire body ached, betrayal raking through your bones. You couldn’t go back to your marui like this.
So you sat, you sat on the wet sand, knees curled up to your chest as you stared into the dark sea. Had he thought nothing of your heart? Nothing of your feelings.
Time passed as you sat in your despair, the dim light of the approaching night transitioning to the darkness, only the bioluminescence of the sky and your body lighting up the world around you.
The padding of feet against the sand woke you out of you dissociation. Turning towards the sound it was the last person you wanted to see. Ao’nung. How could you face him, you couldn’t let him lie his way into your heart any longer.
He spotted you curled into yourself on the beach, concern growing his chest. But the closer he got the more he felt that something was incredibly wrong, so incredibly wrong.
“Flower…why are you out here so late? It is dark. Let me walk you home.” His hand laid on your shoulder anxiously.
Your muscles tensed under his touch, shaking his hand off your body as your eyes bored into his soul. Revealing your sadness to him. “What has happened?”
“You.” Ao’nung only furrowed his brows, confused at your answer. “You happened.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Why would I court her, she is nothing to this clan, nothing to me.” Your voice cracked as you said it, tears returning as the sting of his words resonated within you.
His face dropped. He had been caught, he was riddled with guilt, mouth growing dry as he tried to form words. “No- Baby I didn’t mean that.”
“Do you know how much I have risked letting myself love you? I trusted you with my heart, my body, my soul. I trusted you to not hurt me. How stupid was I for letting myself do that?” You sobbed between your words, an accusing finger pointed right at his chest.
“You’re not stupid.” You scoffed, a heartless laugh escaping your chest.
“No tell me how stupid I am for loving you. How stupid I am for thinking you would want to be with a forest freak like me. I should’ve listened to my brothers, you are not worthy of the love I have given you.” His face was permanently stuck in a frown, shaking his head as he tried to think of something to say.
“I am sorry flower I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t.” He grabbed onto your small hand in his, his fin like arms contrasting to your skinnier ones. Another reason he would never love you.
“Stop lying to yourself. You know you did.” And with that you shook his weak grip off you. Striding towards your family marui as his touch still lingered on your palms and his words lingered on your heart. It was childish to ever think he would not taint your heart.  
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thankyou sm for reading!!
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despairs-memorial · 1 month ago
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It was interesting just how quietly certain memories could live in the back of ones mind, only to be called forth with the most inane, random chance triggers when least expected. Mikan had told him about ptsd once, as she had with anxiety and adhd, and it was moments like this where he really wished he had listened better.
It was just a glass, not even a special one, just a simple, cheap glass that were a dime a dozen at any store. It was nothing to break it, and Kazuichi knew that, but when he'd felt it slip from his fingers, when he's heard it (now all too clearly) s h a t t e r upon impact with the floor, it was as if every part of his body had been dipped in acid the strike of fear had been so powerful.
"I-I'm sorry!" Instinctive in his apology, Kazuichi was no longer in Gundham's room, but back in the kitchen of his home, scrambling on his hands and knees to pick up as much glass as he could (if he happened to fall into it when his father inevitably 'taught him a lesson', sometimes it would hurt a little less with the bigger pieces gone).
"I'll p-p-pick it up, a-and replace it, I swear-" He didn't seem to notice the series of small knicks that appeared across his palm and fingers as he tried to pick up the jagged peices with his bare hands, the actions growing even more frantic with the sound of Gundham's boots across the floor, now just barely in his line of sight.
He cringed in on himself, the hand holding the glass gripping at the shards as he braced for a hit that wouldn't come. Not with Gundham.
But...this wasn't Gundham right now, it was his father, those heavy work boots rattling his bones with each step with only the sight of them in his peripherals telling him what was about to come, no matter how much he begged.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! P-Please don't be m-m-mad! I'll fix it, I will!" //im sorry i keep bombarding you with asks but they have the braincell lmao theres no rush on these btw just whenever you feel like answering them <3
The sound of the shattering glass makes Gundham flinch a bit in surprise, and he’s about to brush it off before hearing Kazuichi start to apologize in such a tone. The breeder knew quite well by now how bad the mechanic’s home life was, there even being times where he considered just outright asking if Kazuichi wanted to move in with him after graduation, no matter how their relationship went, just to make sure that he didn’t have to go back to living with his demon of a father. Ultimately, though it was up to Kazuichi, and as much as it would break his heart to see him go back, he wouldn’t fight him too much on it. 
Looking over at his partner, a gasp leaves Gundham, and he goes to grab the trash can to bring it over to him once he sees what exactly Kazuichi was gripping so tightly. “What do you think you’re doing?! Throw those to the depths, now!” He says as he grabs the mechanic’s hand to make sure that he let go and so that he can examine it to make sure that no small shards got lodged there. Gently holding his hand and massaging the back of it, he frowns as he sees that some had gotten stuck. 
“You are injured, fear not. I am more than capable of tending to wounds such as these with ease. Even a black mage such as myself is capable of this amount of healing!” Going over to get a pair of tweezers, he starts to pick out the glass carefully to make sure that he wouldn’t break the shards more. As he works, he starts to speak very quietly, focused on the task at hand, “There is nothing for you to apologize for, Kazuichi… once I ensure that your wounds are free from the offending shards, I will clean up what remains of the glass.” 
Though, gentle as Gundham sounded, he was somewhat angry, too. Not at Kazuichi, never at his partner, but he was seriously going to have to be held back if he ever had to meet the mechanic’s father. There was nothing that man could ever say or do that would ever make him forgive him for the hell he made Kazuichi go through, and if he ever did gain the power to make them pay for it, Kazuichi’s father was going to be one of the first that he used it on, second only to his own.
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fox-quills · 6 months ago
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For the asky thing! Coz I wanna be nosy but also I haven't paid attention to what's already been done! #7, #8 & #23 😘
Oooh thanks for asking!
I already did 8 in an earlier ask, so I'll do the other two!
7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
You know I just realized I missed the "explain why" portion when I answered 8 before, whoops.
Also this is such a hard question because there's uh. A lot of prose to consider, but my favorite bits are almost always when I land on a good/fun descriptive turn of phrase like: He held himself taut as an over-tuned guitar string, jaw clenched, the shadows under his eyes speaking of too little sleep. or The class scattered like a pool break or Izuku honked into Hizashi's shoulder like a mortified goose.
Those examples are all from Mobius, and just a few I could remember off the top of my head. I'm sure there are more/better.
If we're talking about a longer snippet, hm. It's kind of embarrassing to admit that I have such a terrible memory for my own stuff but here we are. Although! I was very proud of the opening chapter of Kintsugi in general (and credit where it's due, the emotional gut-punch of Izuku and Shouta dying together was all @scratchxiii, my contribution was just in the execution), but I do like the opening in particular:
The end of the world crept up on them by inches, the retreating tide a sign they had refused to heed until the tsunami crashed over them with terrible, shattering force.
Poetic bullshit, but there was something about the visual that Shouta couldn't shake. Hubris, maybe. In the face of the sea, in the face of the enemy, in the face of the end. Could also just be the sleep deprivation and the adrenaline making him fucking loopy. He slapped the C4 against the wall, checking the detonator. Or maybe he was feeling philosophical because they were about to blow themselves to kingdom come.
If everything went well, at least. It's a little more poetic than I usually am, which was fun. My prose is generally pretty straightforward, so I don't get the opportunity much. It also feels like a solid opening, establishing quickly that things are fucked, with the added punch of the characters being in a situation where death was the preferred outcome. I dunno, I just really liked it! 23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?
Okay so this question doesn't really apply to my current crop of stories, because the oldest thing I have is only... three years old maybe. So! We will talk of the Before Times. I've been writing fanfic for ages, so I've got a looooong trail of fics behind me on accounts I no longer use. I think the only answer here is one of my old FMA fics, which I will not name because I don't want to embarrass myself, because I wrote it when I was 19 and while it holds up pretty well, it's def not up to my current standards. It's a RoyEd fic (moment of silence for my long affair with problematique ships lmao), and aside from my BNHA stuff it's the most popular fic I've ever written. It was the first long fic I completed, and I was SO proud of myself, so it would be awesome to see it updated. Although it would probably be a wholesale rewrite instead of a revision. Realistically though if I ever went back to the ship, I'd probably write some of the ideas I never got to instead.
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dreamdropxoxo · 1 year ago
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Ohhh i just saw the smuty list Haha Can I ask you for the 69) "l'll take care of you" 😈 and maybe (if you want) make Laurent say it to Damen?
Okay.. now Im def going and leaving you alone! Haha 🍓 Take Care! ����
Hi dear!
So sorry it took me SO LONG to actually complete this prompt. I hardly wrote these last few months and when I did it felt a bit like a fever dream lmao. But finally I made it.
Thank you so much for this amazing prompt. I absolutely loved writing it and I hope you like the result.
The prompt is from the list here, where you find an overview over all my answers. (Original post of the prompt list here).
69. “I’ll take care of you.” (Lamen) sub Damen
Laurent was aware of the responsibilities that came with being the one in control, the one deciding on his partner’s pleasure. It was easy for him. The planning, the attention to detail but also to his partner, it came to him naturally. The giving and taking his role demanded of him, even easier. He took his pleasure in his partner while giving him exactly what he needed. He gave him comfort and attention after and took this full satisfaction that he couldn’t get otherwise out of it. 
A muffled groan made him look away from his book. It wasn’t particularly interesting or demanding, just engaging enough that he still had room for his thoughts to drift. The interruption was a welcome one although he acted like it wasn’t. He fixated the man bound to the bed with his eyes, letting impatience that he didn’t really feel into his tone.
“Now, didn’t we have an agreement, love?” He wasn’t expecting an answer. How could he? The gag in the other man’s mouth made any type of conversation impossible. 
“We did, didn’t we? You were supposed to be good and silent for me, weren’t you?”
A loud breath through flared nostrils and Laurent couldn’t keep the smile from his lips.
“I know, love, it’s hard, isn’t it? You’re not one for silence, never were and here I make you wait and wait without being able to complain about it. How cruel of me.” He marked his page and slowly put the book away. 
“Considering how much I’m asking of you, I think I might be persuaded to give you an out, love.” He advanced on the bed and loomed over his husband, carefully keeping his tone level.
“You have a choice. Either I keep you gagged and you get to come tonight or I undo the gag and you don’t get to come tonight. What would you like, love? One or two? Show me with your fingers.”
Damen balled his left hand to a fist with only his pointer finger extended and Laurent smiled, pleased. “Good choice, love. I’ll take care of you.”
He petted his husband’s sweaty hair and sat down beside him on the edge of the bed.
“You’ve held out remarkably well. I would have expected you to break much sooner, if I can be honest with you. You can take it for a bit longer, can’t you, love?”
Damen nodded weakly. Spit was leaking from the corners of his mouth and Laurent gently dabbed it away with a tissue. 
“Messy,” he tutted, “but you can’t help it, aren’t I right? Leaking all over.”
His fingers brushed over Damen’s cock, light as a feather, it jumped at the contact and Damen tried to gasp in air inconspicuously. It didn’t work and Laurent laughed, fingers dragging over the mess on Damen’s abs. “So desperate for touch. I bet you could come in under a minute if I touched you properly. How useless. I bet you couldn’t even fuck me properly. What use is such a big cock if you explode the moment I let you anywhere close to my ass?” He wrapped his hand around said cock and gave it a hard squeeze.
Damen whimpered. He shook his head almost desperately.
“No? You think you could make me come before you do?”
Frantic nodding.
“Hm. I don’t think I believe you, love.” He dragged his hand up over the hard, hot member. Damen’s back arched off the bed.
“See? So easy. You would come the moment I had myself seated.”
Damen’s moan sounded like he was in physical pain and Laurent hesitated for a second, let his gaze flicker up to Damen’s hand, where he held a silk cord safely cradled in his palm. All good then. Still, he wasn’t that cruel. At least not in right that moment. He still pumped Damen’s cock slow
“You think you could come twice, love? Maybe if you came now you wouldn’t have such a hair trigger the second time around.”
Frantic nodding again. Laurent chuckled.
“Alright, love. Come whenever you want, just make sure you can still fuck me after.”
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marwritesgood · 4 years ago
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Just Me | S. Basset
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Pairing: Simon x WOC!Reader
Timeframe: Early Season One
Summary: Simon and Y/n had a long history together. So why did it take reading Lady Whistledown’s latest column for her to learn about his blooming relationship with Daphne Bridgerton?
masterlist
A/N: This fic is over 6K words. 
The mere thought of a BIPOC love story set in the 18th Century is enough to make me swoon. So I decided to give it a go and write one myself. There’ll be two more parts after this :)
I also wanted to keep the reader description applicable to any and all women of colour, so it’s a bit vague just to ensure all of us (women of colour) can feel included. Please let me know if there any parts of this fic that don’t do this and I’ll fix it asap! 
If you’re white, this fic is not for you to identify with x
Also, if at any point you find my attempt at mimicking the language used in Bridgerton laughable... you are not the only one lmao. This has been super fun to write and also very challenging, but I am well aware it is farrrr from perfect :)
Nonetheless, I hope it’s a nice read for my WOC readers <3
Simon and Y/n first met when they were children. Her mother was very closely acquainted with Lady Danbury, so naturally, a friendship grew between the two of them- and a strong one at that. 
For years, their interactions had remained within confinements of what was socially acceptable. They bickered. They laughed. They shared inside jokes about the people within their social circle. Their feelings for each other never extended beyond what was befitting of a friendship. 
That was until they grew older.
When marriage and love became more and more ingrained into casual conversations, Simon and Y/n explored their feelings for one another. Questioned the extent to which they cared for each other and whether there was something more beneath the surface.
However, just as Y/n came to realise her love for Simon, he left for London. After a few short weeks, he returned with a new title. A new vow that the Hastings bloodline would end with him. Subsequently, with it, any hope Y/n had of her relationship with him becoming anything more than all it had always been: a friendship.
A year had passed since the sorrowful conversation resulting in Simon and Y/n agreeing to not indulge in the affections they shared. Since then, Y/n struggled to focus on securing a marriage proposal from one of the suitors in her town.
“This is your second season,” Y/n’s mother cried as she paced across the sitting room. Y/n sat in silence, having been interrupted from playing the piano by another one of her panicked outbursts. “Your second season and yet you continue to reject every marriage proposal you receive.”
She couldn’t blame her mother for being frustrated with her. As her only daughter, she needed to find a good match and be married off as soon as possible. Her father was of old age, but even he remained restless that Y/n be married. He much preferred the prospect of dying knowing that the estate would be inherited by Y/n’s husband instead of his nephew.
“I did not reject Mr Graham’s proposal, mama,” Y/n responded, unnervingly calmly considering how distraught her mother was. Mr Graham’s proposal was the latest one she had received that season. “I... simply asked for more time to consider my answer.”
“What on earth is there to consider?” Mrs Y/l/n shrieked. Her frustration only grew when her daughter was unable to answer her question. Y/n turned away from her mother. “He is a good man. He comes from a good, honourable family and will give you a good future- something you will not have if you continue to turn away suitors.”
“Mama, please.” Y/n could not say anything more, for fear that her mother’s anger toward her would only grow if she were to find out the truth. The real reason she could not yet bring herself to accept a marriage proposal.
“Why do you need time to consider, Y/n?” Her daughter had stood up from behind the piano and had her back turned to her mother. That did not stop her from continuing to pry. After so many rejected proposals, she felt she had a right to know why her daughter refused to marry. “I beg of you, tell me- what is there to consider?... What could possibly be keeping you from marrying Mr Graham.”
They stood in silence for a moment before Y/n sighed exasperatedly and turned back to face her mother.
“I do not love him,” Y/n replied in a hushed cry, only just loud enough for Mrs Y/l/n to hear from across the room. “He may be a good man, mama, but I... I do not love him, and I do not believe I ever could.”
She knew from their first encounter that she could never love him. Perhaps it was how he mispronounced her grandmother’s name or the way he possessed the same arrogance as every other suitor Y/n encountered. 
“My dear,” Mrs Y/l/n said, her voice and expression softening entirely. She reached out for her daughter’s hand and took hold of it gently. She knew precisely how Y/n felt, which meant that, unfortunately, she knew there was nothing to be done. “We have talked about this. Women like you and I... we do not have the luxury to make decisions based on our own feelings.”
Y/n was surrounded by women who did not share the same experiences she did. Women who could not empathise with the challenges she faced and being a woman in the 18th Century. Not even if they tried.
Therefore, whenever Y/n found herself hoping for the same things as the white women around her, she had to bring herself back to reality. She had to remember that if life was unkind to white women, it would always be hell for women like her, no matter who married into the royal family.
“I know,” Y/n answered. 
She did. She knew it was incredibly reckless of her to reject all of the proposals she had received. She knew she was naïve for basing her decision based on love. Yet, even so, she could not keep herself from holding out on the hope that she would not end up in a loveless marriage.
“I do not mean to upset you, Y/n,” Mrs Y/l/n said sincerely, as she guided her daughter to the nearest seat. “But I fear that if you continue on, you will have no more proposals to reject, and I... I simply cannot bear the thought... Please, dear, you must-”
Y/n began to close her eyes ready to brace herself for what she feared would inevitably happen- her mother insisting she accepts a proposal. However, just as she did, a maid knocked on the door and promptly brought in the newspaper. When Simon left for London, Y/n requested that any newspaper copy or mail sent to her from London be immediately handed to her. She looked forward to any kind of update on him.
“Thank you,” Y/n said to the maid as she handed her the newspaper. Without hesitation, she immediately turned to Lady Whistledown’s column.
“What does it say?” Her mother asked, giving up on her attempts at convincing Y/n to accept a marriage proposal, at least for the time being. 
Y/n’s blood ran cold as she read the column. She had expected to hear more about the bitter impression Simon was leaving in London. She was going to comment on how typical arrogant white elitists villainising anyone who did not approach them in a way that appeases their ego.
But that was not what she read.
Instead, she read about Simon showing a particular interest in the woman named the ‘Diamond of the Season’ by the Queen herself- Miss Daphne Bridgerton. She read about him courting her and spending a significant amount of time with her. She read about flowers, the expensive kind, and walks through Hyde park, and she was unsure whether to feel betrayed or feel furious.
It was one thing for Simon to begin courting another woman, after explaining to Y/n that he would never marry. It was another for her to have to learn all of this from reading the Lady Whistledown column. 
Without providing her mother with an answer as to what the column wrote, Y/n slammed the newspaper against the table beside her and stood up abruptly. 
Her mother went to reprimand Y/n for slamming the paper so violently against her favourite table. However, Y/n walked hastily into her bedroom. She began to plan what she was to pack when she would leave for London in the morning.
She was adamant on learning the truth in its entirety. And, this time, not from an anonymous publisher but from Simon himself.
***
Y/n had an aunt who lived in London with her husband and their three kids- all much younger than Y/n was. She knew that if she could get away with arriving in London unannounced with intent to stay for longer than a week, her only luck was with her aunt.
After she was escorted inside by one of the workers, Y/n stood and marvelled at her aunt’s husband’s estate. It looked nothing like the sitting room at her home. It looked fancier with much nicer things, leading her to think back to why her mother pushed so hard for her to marry. Mrs Y/l/n had helped her younger sister find a match, and now she lived in a beautiful home in London. 
Perhaps all she wanted was to ensure the same future for her only child.
“Y/n, my dear!” Her aunt came bursting through the doors with arms stretched out. She pulled Y/n into a tight embrace as she always did whenever greeting her niece. Before her three children, she had Y/n. “Oh, how I have missed you!”
“I have missed you too, Aunt Philippa,” Y/n smiled, gently clutching her aunt’s hand as she held her cheek. “Please forgive me for arriving here unannounced. I would have written to you in advanced, but I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
“Do not be silly, my dear,” Philippa laughed, before guiding her niece out of the sitting room and towards the staircase. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you may need. Though I imagine your mother will be impatiently anticipating your return... how is my dear sister?”
“As restless as ever,” Y/n mumbled. Philippa’s laughter echoed across the halls. Just as she expected, her older sister had not changed. Not one bit. “She is adamant that I am engaged by the end of the season, which is part of the reason I needed to leave home so quickly.”
“I do not blame you, dear,” Philippa murmured. She knew from first-hand experience how relentless Y/n’s mother could be. Even so, she knew it was out of love. Y/n knew as well. “Now... what is the urgent matter you need to attend? I imagine you will need a chaperone... and perhaps a carriage?”
Y/n smiled in relief. Everything she had done leading up to her arrival in London was purely impulsive. She hadn’t even thought of how she would get to Simon or who she would have to escort and chaperone her. 
“You wouldn’t happen to know the whereabouts of... the Duke of Hastings?”
Philippa’s eyes grew twice in size. Whether it was shock or excitement, Y/n could not figure out. It wasn’t until her aunt pulled her into the nearest empty room, checked to see if anyone was listening in, and grinned at her that Y/n concluded it was the latter.
“When I read about the Duke and Miss Bridgerton, all I could think of was you,” Philippa began, speaking in a hushed tone, though unable to contain her excitement. She did not typically indulge in gossip, but she was entirely invested in staying updated to her niece and Simon. “You never did tell me what happened when he returned. Did you confess your feelings?”
Philippa had generously volunteered her afternoons so that her niece could practise what she would say to Simon. She hoped those afternoons had not been spent in vain.
“I did... And then he did too... Before telling me, he would never marry,” Y/n explained, trying to conceal the way her breath hitched and the way tears welled up in her eyes. “Though, after reading Lady Whistledown’s column, it is clear that perhaps he meant that he would never marry me.”
Philippa frowned and lifted her hand up again, holding the side of Y/n’s face and swiping the few tears she couldn’t stop from escaping. As she did so, Y/n inhaled sharply- trying desperately to keep herself from indulging in her sorrow.
“I am sure that is not the case, dearest,” Philippa insisted. 
She refused to believe Simon would do that to her niece. Not after the stories she had heard from Y/n as they grew up. Not to mention all the times she caught one staring at the other across ballrooms and dining tables. 
“We must hurry,” she chirped, dropping her hand so she could grasp her niece’s arm. “I believe the Duke will be in Hyde Park with Lady Danbury. ‘Tis best we leave now if we wish to catch them.”
Y/n smiled. Being with her aunt was a nice change of pace to being with her mother. She would have scolded Y/n had she caught wind of what had happened. 
***
Upon their arrival at Hyde Park, Philippa approached Lady Danbury. Her plan was to make conversation with her, find out more about Simon and Daphne’s relationship. Then, she would ultimately create a segue for Y/n to have a somewhat private conversation with Simon.
However, Y/n had other plans.
When they arrived, she scanned the park in search of Simon. Once she spotted him walking alone on the pavement, she threw caution and decorum to the wind. Before her Aunt Philippa could stop her, Y/n sprinted. 
Once she reached him, she grabbed his shoulder roughly, prompting him to turn around.
“Peach,” Simon whispered, dumbfounded by Y/n’s sudden appearance.
He stopped calling Y/n by her name when they were five. Instead, he called her Peach, for reasons that remained a mystery to Y/n. Despite not knowing the reasoning behind it, she always adored it. She was the only person he had a unique designated name for.
More recently, she wondered if Miss Bridgerton would soon become an exception.
“You owe me an explanation,” Y/n said harshly, not having the patience to beat around the bush. This was primarily because she wanted to know the truth and because she was out of breath from sprinting to Simon.  “Do I really mean so little to you, Simon?”
“Please lower your voice,” Simon begged, subtly grabbing Y/n’s arm and quickening their pace to avoid the crowded area of the park. 
“Do not speak to me as though I am a child,” Y/n growled, yanking her arm away from him and stepping back. 
“Then do not act like one,” Simon retorted.
Y/n scoffed, before dusting off her dress. Simon rolled his eyes to cover his nervousness. He had a habit of concealing it with aggression. Y/n was often able to see through it, but she was guilty of doing the same.
“What changed?” Y/n asked as she looked back at Simon. “You seemed so certain when you told me you would never marry. Now you have extended your stay in London to court Miss Bridgerton?”
“I wish I could give you an answer,” Simon responded honestly. It was perhaps the most honest statement he had made all month. 
His courtship of Daphne was a mere ruse to attract more suitors for her. Truth be told, Simon was incredibly stressed by it, but he was too deep into the lie to give up any time soon. He hadn’t anticipated Y/n would be caught in the middle of it.
“Well, what could be hindering you from doing so?” Y/n cried, confused by how vague and cryptic Simon was acting.
He struggles to find the right words. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Y/n any more than he already had, but he could not give her the answer she wanted. Although he was not actually courting Daphne, he still would not marry. Thus, he could not do what would make her happy, which was the main reason he kept his distance from her in the first place.
“Things are different now,” Simon said apologetically, hoping to deter Y/n from prying. Though he desperately wanted to say more, he knew that doing so was incredibly risky. “We... we are not children anymore.”
Y/n blinked, astonished by Simon’s reaction. It was far from what she had expected. She expected an explanation. She expected assurance. Instead, she has pushed aside as though she and her feelings were disposable. 
This was a familiar feeling to Y/n.
“Is that all you think of me?” She asked angrily. Simon, of all the people in her life, had the most power to hurt her. And he often did so without realising. “A child?... And our relationship? You think it is something as easy to put behind you as your childhood? Is that all this is to you, Simon?”
She went to speak again. To demand what she felt she had a right to. However, before she could get a word out, a woman appeared from behind her. She was fair-skinned and wore a dress that resembled her complexion. 
“Miss Bridgerton,” Simon gasped. He did not know whether to be grateful for her arrival or concerned about how it would affect Y/n. He eventually became both. “May I introduce you to Miss Y/l/n. She is a... very close family friend.”
Y/n had to keep herself from scoffing. She was more to him than just a friend. Y/n knew that well, despite Simon’s denial.
“I am terribly sorry,” Miss Bridgerton cried, averting her attention to Y/n. “I did not mean to intrude.”
“Not at all,” Y/n assured, smiling sincerely at Daphne. Her anger was entirely directed towards Simon. Unlike him, Daphne had no pre-existing history with Y/n to remain considerate of. “I actually must return to my aunt. It was lovely to finally meet you, Miss Bridgerton.”
Before Y/n turned to walk back to her Aunt Philippa, she glanced back at Simon, who was very clearly terrified of how calm Y/n was. He could only imagine the amount of anger she was harbouring. Deterring her would prove to be much more complicated than he expected.
“Your grace,” Y/n snarled through gritted teeth, before forcing a smile as she turned away.
***
It had been a week since Y/n and Simon’s interaction at Hyde Park.
Y/n sat beside her aunt Philippa in a carriage as she read through her mother’s letter. She had made vividly clear, through an eight-paged rant, that she was absolutely livid with her daughter. Y/n’s hands were trembling. 
“I assume she is quite upset?” Philippa asked, though she already knew the answer. 
Y/n had extended her stay to a week just so she could attend a gala at Lady Danbury’s estate. It was her last hope of catching a moment alone with Simon and gaining, at the very least, some form of closure. She hoped it would not come to that, but from their last interaction, Y/n was losing confidence.
“She is furious,” Y/n answered shortly, before folding the letter abruptly and placing it aside. Her mother wrote one demand that sent chills through her bones. “If I am not home within a week, she will come to London and take me back herself. Then, I will have to accept Mr Graham’s proposal.”
Philippa’s stomach dropped. She placed her hand atop her niece’s. Y/n looked down to conceal the tears that began to gather in her eyes. Philippa noticed and wrapped her arm around Y/n, gently squeezing her shoulder. 
“I am sure it will not come to that,” she whispered soothingly, though she struggled to sound sincere. Y/n nodded. She didn’t quite believe her aunt, but she knew there was no point in losing hope entirely. At least not yet.
Once they arrived at the gala, Philippa made conversation with a friend, whileY/n made way to Lady Danbury. The event was held in her courtyard. While others marvelled at her estate, Y/n felt a warm sense of nostalgia. When Lady Danbury brought Simon to her London estate during summers, she would often invite Y/n and her parents. While her parents and the Danburys made conversation in the house, Simon and Y/n would run about freely outside.
“Welcome back, Miss Y/l/n,” Lady Danbury smiled warmly, as Y/n and her aunt approached her.
“It is a pleasure to be here, my lady,” Y/n responded curtly, before laughing out loud as Lady Danbury pulled her into her arms for a tight hug. 
Once she let go, they made small talk. Lady Danbury asked Y/n how her parents were. Y/n asked Lady Danbury how she was and how her fruit orchards were. After they ran out of things to discuss, Y/n could not help but scan the room searching for Simon, who was nowhere to be found.
“I am not completely sure where he is,” Lady Danbury said, startling Y/n who had not realised how far from natural she was acting. “Though, he did complain about how suffocated he was by the throng here... I imagine he has gone to a place where it will be difficult for most to find him.”
Y/n thought for a moment. Lady Danbury was cryptic by nature, and after years of knowing her, she had a knack for figuring out what she meant. Once Y/n knew, she smiled at Lady Danbury, before excusing herself from the gala.
Y/n headed away from the gala and towards the maze area. It was well-lit, which she was grateful for as it meant she could navigate her way around swiftly. It felt like second-nature to her; running about in the Danbury’s London Estate. She forgot how much she enjoyed the thrill of running through and past the hedges.
Once she reached the maze’s centre, she saw Simon standing idle, his back towards where she stood. That was the place they spent most of their time. When they were younger, they would sit there and play games. As they got older, they would sit there and talk. Sometimes he would read while she drew. Sometimes vice versa. But most of the time, they spoke—about everything worth talking about, and then some.
“I remember the first time we played here together,” Y/n began, causing Simon to jump. Once he turned around and saw Y/n his tense posture softened, and a small smile appeared across his face. She felt relieved by it, though she didn’t want to let her guard down entirely. “I got lost, almost immediately, and you found me sitting here, cross-legged, in a puddle of tears. Do you remember?”
Simon chuckled. Of course, he thought. 
“You were inconsolable when I found you,” he mocked, prompting Y/n to reach out and lightly punch his shoulder. His laughter only grew.
“We were five,” Y/n reasoned. She would never admit that she was dramatic. Not even as a child. “I genuinely thought no one would ever find me... and then you did, within a matter of minutes.”
She joined him in laughing. It made for a very entertaining story that they retold relentlessly. While others were sick of hearing it, neither of them were sick of recounting it, for their own reasons.
“I told you I would never leave you behind,” he added, smiling as he thought back to that day. His smile faded quickly when he realised the irony. He frowned and took a step towards Y/n. “Peach, I must apologise-”
“-No... I am the one who must apologise,” she intervened. Simon stood back in confusion. Y/n sighed before clarifying herself. “I did not mean to blindside you so aggressively before. I did not come here to argue with you, Simon, I... I came to ask you if it is true... Are you courting Miss Bridgerton... with the intent of marrying?”
Simon winced. 
He felt conflicted by both his love for Y/n and the promise he made to Daphne to uphold their ruse. He could not in good faith outright admit that he was merely pretending to court Miss Bridgerton. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Y/n’s heart a second time.
His lips parted, but his mouth ran dry. Before Simon could keep himself from blurting out the wrong thing, he was overcome by a habit he developed over the last month of playing along.
“I am,” he answered.
Just as he did, he lifted his hand to his temple and scrunched his eyebrows. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Y/n. He was still haunted by the look on her face when he told her he would never marry.
“Right,” she sniffled, unsure how to react. Y/n had convinced herself that there was more to the story than what she had read from Lady Whistledown. She regretted how in-denial she allowed herself to become. 
One thing Y/n knew for sure, though, was that she did not want to be near Simon. Although she was on the verge of sobbing, she still turned around and intended to leave him, but Simon grabbed her arm and kept her from doing so.
“Please let me explain,” he begged.
Y/n’s tears halted as she glared at Simon, shocked. She shook her arm out of his grasp and took a step back from him. She had always despised the way men often treated women as though they were disposable and replaceable. She never expected Simon to be one.
“There is no explanation necessary,” she scoffed.
“Y/n, please, you do not understand,” Simon cried. It was rare for him to call her by her name, but Y/n dubbed it as him trying to manipulate her emotions. She would not let that happen. 
“No, of course, you would deceive me,” Y/n spat, unwilling to let Simon get a word in. She was tired of waiting around just to hear from him. This time, she would be the talking. He would be the one listening. “-about not wanting to marry or have children, and of course, I believed your ridiculous lie, like the fool I have always been for you.”
“Ridiculous?” Simon hissed. Y/n’s dismissal of his vow sparked a fit of anger that overcame him before he could realise it had done so. No one had ever called to question or criticised his decision to remain a bachelor for life. No one until Y/n.
“Perhaps not a ridiculous lie,” Y/n sneered. “No, it was more-so childish and nonsensical.”
“And yet, you believed it... What is that to say about you, Miss Y/l/n?” Simon scorned. Y/n flinched. Simon had only ever addressed her in such a way to either tease her or to emphasise his anger. It had been a long while since he had done so for the latter. “It was not a lie, Y/n, I... You could never understand the immense pressure I have been placed under my entire life-”
“- Pressure that significantly decreased with the death of your father,” Y/n argued. Simon acted as though he had a monopoly over her when it came to challenges in life. He could not have been more wrong. “I, on the other hand, am placed under severe pressure and will continue to be, long after my parents pass... That is one of the many things you will never understand.”
“That is not true,” Simon fired back, only for Y/n to continue speaking- this time, with a louder voice.
“We may be the same in one sense, but we are significantly different in another, because you, Simon, are still a man with a title.” Y/n and Simon both shared similar challenges as neither of them were white. However, where Simon inherited certain advantages for being a man, and a Duke, Y/n was only disparaged more. He often forgot that. “You, at the very least, still have the luxury of choice. To choose how you wish to fulfil your future, and whether or not that may include a wife or children.”
Simon lowered his eyes defeatedly. Though he was still angry, there was no denying the shame he felt. 
“I do not. Those choices were made for me the moment I was born a daughter and not a son. So do not act as though you are in a position to empathise with me,” Y/n said. “Especially when you have been the least bit empathetic after I came all the way here, just to confirm the truth about you and Miss Bridgerton.”
“I never told you to come to London,” Simon snapped.
“No, you did not,” Y/n retorted, with just as much, if not more, annoyance in her voice. “You did not tell me anything. I had to find out at the same moment as everyone else in England, as though we are strangers.”
Simon flinched as Y/n progressed from speaking loudly to outright shouting. He had always relied on having her sympathy and her support, even when he was in the wrong. Thankfully, they were far from the gala. However, Simon still feared someone had heard her reprimanding him.
“You claim you are different, now that you are a Duke, but you are the same as you have always been,” Y/n continued. She knew how he had always been. Better than anyone, let alone Miss Bridgerton, that was for sure. “You are still rigid and arrogant. You are still a coward who will never allow himself to feel any kind of joy. And you are still revolving your every decision in life around a man you claim to despise.”
“You do not know a thing,” he whispered, which only confirmed to Y/n that he was scared. He was intimidated. For as long as they had known one another, Y/n rarely confronted his relationship with his father.
“I have watched you go from living only to please him to living only to spite him, even if it means hurting the people who actually care for you,” she cried. She had no more anger within her. Not any more. She had only sadness. “Did it ever occur to you how much it hurt when you rejected me?”
“That was never my intention,” Simon said regretfully. 
It was the truth, though Simon had begun to realise that his wrath against his father blinded him from what he cared about more: her happiness. 
“Peach,” he whispered, inching towards Y/n as he lifted his hand and held the left side of her face. “Please, believe me, I never meant to hurt you.”
Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. It had been so long since they had shared a moment like that. An intimate moment shared between no one but them. Where Simon was not the stoic and emotionally detached Duke of Hastings. He was Simon. Dare she say, her Simon.
Despite that, Y/n was the first to turn away. She wanted to indulge. To take advantage of the opportunity to reconcile with him. To enjoy how vulnerable he was, after months of distance. 
But she couldn’t. 
Not when there were still questions burning in her mind. She could not rest until they were dealt with. After all, she was her mother’s child.
“Then what about Miss Bridgerton?” Y/n’s expression remained stagnant, but she could not keep hands from trembling. Simon winced at the mention of Daphne. “You... courting her after rejecting me... You cannot possibly tell me you did not intend to hurt me when you did that.”
Simon opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had no response to what she had said because there was no justification for what he had done. All he could do was curse quietly to himself for taking so long to realise how foolish he had been.
“I had always expected this to happen,” Y/n began, sniffling as she tried to compose herself enough to explain herself. Simon remained quiet and decided he would until she finished. He figured he owed her as much. “I always knew I would be turned away for someone like Daphne Bridgerton.”
It had been the subject of many of her mother’s lessons. Before she was introduced to society, her mother made it a point to prepare her for rejection. To not hold out hope for any man, until a marriage proposal was made. 
Simon had been Y/n’s only exception to that rule. 
“It’s happened to me my whole life,” Y/n laughed bitterly, as she recalled all the times she had lost to a woman of fairer skin than her. All the times she wept to her Aunt Philippa and to Simon. “I always expected this would happen. But I never expected this would happen with you.”
Simon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Y/n struggle to stifle her cries in between her sentences. He had watched her sit in this sorrow many times, just as she had done for him, for this was a pain she shared. But this time was different. This time he was the one responsible. 
He didn’t know pain, so heart-wrenching, was possible. But watching her cry and knowing he could do nothing to fix it. That pain had never felt more real.
“I do not blame you, Simon,” Y/n whimpered, which only made him hurt more. He wanted her to be angry. To berate him some more. It was the least of what he deserved for causing her such sorrow. “She is the ‘Diamond of the Season’ after all, and... I am just me.”
Y/n hated the pity party she was throwing for herself, but she could not help what she felt. After a life of being classed second to white women, who could blame her for internalising this? 
He was dying to say something. To tell Y/n that she had it all wrong. He wanted to reveal that his courtship of Daphne was all a ruse. That he could never bring himself to entertain the idea of marrying anyone but her. But his fear of only making things worse left him paralysed. 
“You have made it abundantly clear that I was a fool forever waiting around for you,” she said to Simon. Unfortunately for him, she had taken his lack of response as confirmation that what she had concluded of the situation was accurate. “I will not make that mistake again.”
“Peach-”
“Goodbye, Simon,” Y/n blurted as she turned away hastily. 
Left in too much shock to reach out and stop her, Simon stood, dumbfounded, and watched as the woman he loved walked away from him and back to the gala. Looking back, he wished he had called out to her. Simon wished he had run after her. But he did not.
When Y/n reached the courtyard where the gala was being held, she couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that rushed over when she realised Simon let her go. This assured her that she was right to leave him, but it did not alleviate the pain in doing so. 
She made her way through the crowd and searched for her aunt. As she did, she felt her cheeks burn and her pace of breath quicken. She had gone through all the effort of coming to London just for what she feared most to be the reality. 
“There you are, my dear!”
Y/n turned around and saw her Aunt approaching her. Philippa smiled brightly as she walked towards her niece. However, when she realised that Y/n’s enthusiasm fell short of matching hers by a significant margin, her smile began to fade.
“Where is Simon?” She inquired, her voice lowered to not draw attention to their conversation. From Y/n expression, Philippa inferred that was the last thing she wanted.
Y/n’s lip quivered as she tried desperately to answer her aunt’s question. When she failed to do so, she hung her head- too embarrassed to face her aunt. Philippa frowned. A line appeared between her brows as she reached out to her distraught niece.
Though she was dying to know, the details of Simon and Y/n’s conversation were the least of her concerns. All she cared for was her niece and helping her in any way she needed. 
“I will call for our carriage,” she whispered, before guiding Y/n out of the courtyard. 
Once their carriage arrived, Philippa sat opposite her niece and watched worriedly as she refused to make eye contact, let alone speak.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Y/n took a long moment to respond. She stared at her gloved hands as she thought about what to do next. She regretted all the proposals she had turned down, and all the ways she put her life on hold for Simon. She felt ashamed that she had allowed herself to be in the situation she was in. 
Then she realised the only thing she could do to fix it.
“May you organise a carriage to take me home tomorrow?” Y/n asked. Her aunt’s eyes widened. Returning home to face her mother was the last thing Philippa expected Y/n to want to do. 
She watched her niece closely, trying to figure out what her plan moving forward was. Y/n finally looked up and met her aunt’s gaze. To Philippa’s surprise, her niece had a prominent sense of confidence in her expression. 
“Why, my dear?” Philippa quizzed, her eyebrows still knitted in confusion as well as fear. The way her niece was suddenly overcome with confidence after being on the verge of tears was concerning. She couldn’t imagine it would lead to anything good.
Y/n inhaled sharply, pursing her lips as she did so. She knew her aunt would disagree with what she planned to do. But she also knew that, given the circumstance, Philippa would reluctantly do as she asked. Before she answered, Y/n momentarily glanced down at her hands and turned back to her aunt.
“I have a proposal to accept.”
NEXT PART
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tendousthoughts · 3 years ago
Note
Yo yo yo... god that cringy but anyway! I would like to request something that I saw on another blog. It’s when the s/o has a fight with the boys and after it the boys go to the bedroom or somewhere to be alone but when they come out they see that their s/o is gone. In reality they just went outside for a walk to clear their head but our precious boyos panic that they left them for good.
I hope I explained that well I’m pretty new to requesting and stuff but I really love what you’ve written so far on your blog🥺
HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 1
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Character(s) included: Sakusa & Iwaizumi
Warning(s): Foul language (cursing), flinching
Song of the day: Meteor Shower by Cavetown
A/N to ask writer: Heyo! Thanks for enjoying my content! I love this idea, thanks for sharing. If you were looking for a specific character(s) to be put in this prompt go ahead and shoot me a pm/dm, write another message in anon or non-anon, or just comment on this!
A/N: Heyo as you can see I’ve added a new section for people who are my ask box writers in answering too! I got some new rps but if anyone wants to chat! This prompt gave me a lot of space to work with and I’ve decided that it will always probably be a four part series as well or maybe five. I’m extremely sorry about the break I took. If you have any ideas what to call this please tell me lmao. If you have any requests please read my rules first! Sorry for my grammatical and spelling errors. Reblogs, follows, and likes are greatly appreciated!
Where to find all the parts!
Where to find all my content!
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Sakusa
It was a one sided fight. As always. He was yelling and you just took it. It was your fault after all. You shouldn’t have touched his shit, but you did. So now you are here. Holding back your pathetic tears. A mouth full of words was pushing through your lips and soon they fell out. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re still with me..” you whisper, no longer able to push back your tears. “I mean I don’t know what you want from me anymore,” You mutter softly.
He sat their stunned for a moment, “Maybe I want to be alone, but fuck your so clingy and nosey.” He muttered softly. He looked up at you, disgust in his eyes. “You know sometimes I wonder what the hell happened to you at birth to make you this fucked up. We’re you dropped or something?” He screamed. His hands now balled up into fist. You’re scared. You’re not going to lie. As he steps forward you flinch and that brings him back to reality. Instead of saying something he backs off and slams the door. You sit there stunned.
“I’m sorry..” you whisper and leave, grabbing most of your stuff. What ever you can grab at that moment which happens to be your phone, keys, wallet, and jacket. You take a deep breath as you slip on your shoes and leave quietly. Locking the door after yourself.
I’m sorry
I’m sorry
I’m sorry
Your thoughts were all over the place as you got into your car. Grabbing your phone you turn it off. Not wanting any calls or texts. Expecting none, but that just might hurt you more. You take a deep breath and decide to drive nowhere on a random freeway. You start the car and leave.
Hours passed when Sakusa finally came out of the room, “y/n..?” He whispered softly. Now missing you as he didn’t know what he was doing. He looked around and soon realized some of your stuff was gone, and so were you.
He bit his lip running to his room as he called you. “Pick up.. pick up.. pick up..” he whispered.
Heyo! You’ve happened to miss me! I’m sorryyy but I am probably hanging out with my amazing boyfriend. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back soon! Anyways gotta go. I’m going to get in trouble with my boss if he catches me on my phone.
He bit his lip hearing the voicemail. It’s funny, he had never heard it before. Maybe it was because he never called and it was always you. Or maybe because when he did you picked up immediately. Unknowingly tears start to roll down his face. He fucked up. He knows he fucked up.
He lays down on the bed you guys share and just holds your pillow close. Tears rolling down his cheek. He calls again but waits till he can say something. “Y/n.. I’m sorry.. Please pick up. I’m sorry.” He sniffles as his tears fall. “I didn’t mean any of it.. please..” he whimpered softly as he knew it was no use. He ended the call and just cried for a few hours.
When night came he decided not to eat. He wasn’t feeling good as he tried to call you again. Yet not to his surprise he heard the same voicemail. Tears welled up as he heard your soothing voice. He couldn’t believe he made you so scared that you flinched away from him. “Y/n.. baby.. please.. I’m sorry.. I miss you.. I know I sound stupid and you probably want some space.. b..but please..” he hung up. Throwing his phone as he hugged your pillow closer.
At 11 pm you finally make it back. Hoping he is sleeping as you walk in. But to your surprise you can hear soft cries and whimpers coming from the room you share. You bit your lip softly as you gently put your stuff down. Softly taking a deep breath, you gently knock.
“Ba.. Sakusa..” You bite your lip as a couple seconds later you can hear the sound of someone fall or something and then you’re greeted with a tight hug.
“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..” he whimpered softly as he just held on to you. “Please don’t go.” Fear was heard clearly in his voice.
You bit your lip. “Baby.. I’m right here.. take a deep breath.. I’m dirty Sakusa you gotta let me go..” you whispered worried how he might react later.
“No..” he whispered softly as he held on tighter. “P..please no..” he was scared.
“Okay okay.. I’ve got you.. no leaving..” you smiled softly as you gently held him. “I’ve got you..” you muttered softly. You gently held him kissing his head. You take off your jacket and make your way to the bed you guys share. Gently sitting down and Sakusa followed.
He hugged on to you immediately as tears flood his eyes. “I’m sorry.. I don’t want you to leave me and stuff.. I didn’t mean any of it..” he whispered softly “I love you so much.” He muttered.
“I love you too baby..” you whispered softly playing with his curly dark hair. “I didn’t mean to worry you okay.. I’m sorry baby..” you mumble softly.
“It’s my fault.. I got angry and I started yelling and.. a..and I wanted to show you how mad I was.. and I started to scream at you and I said that I didn’t want you to be so clingy.. I didn’t mean that. I missed you and when I went to find you I couldn’t.. and it scared me and I know I fucked it. And I know I shouldn’t have done that. When I saw you finch I didn’t know.. I..I just thought about how terrible I was acting and stuff..” he whispered softly. “When I tried to call you.. you didn’t pick up and then I heard your voicemail.. and I don’t know I just..” he was crying into your chest as he held on.
“Shush.. I’ve got you.. I’m sorry baby.. I know.. it was my fault okay? You didn’t mean too. I touched your stuff and I didn’t think about how you would feel.” You whispered softly, kissing his head softly. “I didn’t mean to worry you.. and you know I wouldn’t ever just leave you without saying anything. I won’t do that to you..” you whispered as he closed his eyes and just held on. “I’ve got you and won’t let you go I promise..” you whispered softly while holding him.
“I love you..” he whispered softly as he looked up to you. Tears in his eyes. “I love you so much..” he whispered.
“I love you too darling..” you smile softly. Holding him till he falls asleep. Once he does you close your eyes and fall asleep too.
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Iwaizumi
He got jealous easily. Everyone knew that. He was the type to act on his jealousy. Not only that, but he acted upon them in irrotational ways. So when he heard that you were hanging out with a coworker, it wasn't an extreme surprise that he made a huge deal about it. Starting an argument as soon as you get back.
"Just tell me who the fuck he is!" He screamed, his voice echoed in the hallway. You weren’t even inside yet and he was already acting as if he was going to kill someone.
"Can I even just come in?" you look up at him. You’re clearly annoyed which might just make him more upset.
"Oh okay just come inside! Would you like something to drink too?” He said sarcastically.“Oh wait you went and had coffee already with this 'coworker'!" He screamed as you pushed your way through the door.
When you turn to him the door is already shut and he is waiting for an answer. “It’s a coworker I don’t need to repeat myself, and I won’t. I’m not going to not hang out with people because you want me too!” You scream. Here’s the thing. Your so fucking sick and tired of him pushing you around. You used to take his shit but a month or two ago you started to respond. There’s no fucking reason for his shit.
“Ya you know what. Maybe I would be okay with it if it wasn’t taking up our time together!” He screamed and at this point nobody is really understanding what the other is saying.
“Our time? Our time?! How fucking dare you. You’re always at work! I don’t get a word out before you kick me out of our office!” You look at him in annoyance.
“My work is something I can’t just ignore! So I don’t understand why you keep bringing it up! Your fucking coworker can wait can’t they? I mean you knew I was off today! Did the whole fucking date just skim over your head?” He screamed. Now everything sorta just clicks.
“Wait ba-” but before you can finish he had already left the room. A few brief seconds pass by and you are met with the sound of a door slamming. “Fuck..” you muttered softly.
A few minutes go by and you come to the idea that he wants some time alone. You are just coming home, and are already ready to leave. So you slip on your shoes and leave. Locking the door after you head out to go get some for him, full of his favorite snacks and stuff. Knowing full well that wouldn’t fix it but maybe it could make him a bit happier.
When you get to your car you get a pop up from your reminders app. You feel a wave of tears. “Fuck,” you muttered throwing your phone to the next seat over as you start to drive.
It takes about half an hour for him to notice you’re not there anymore. He doesn’t hear your footsteps or anything as he gets up to check. After a moment or two he knows you left for sure. “Fucking shit. Misses our date and then leaves..” he muttered softly as he headed to the shared room.
You arrived getting a few things as you don’t think about anything other than how to make him happy.
After an hour or two more he bit his lip softly now a bit worried if you’re okay. But he doesn’t call waiting an hour before he does so.
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
Hello! It seems like you have sadly missed me. I can call you back as soon as possible! Just please leave a message! Bye bye!
It takes him a moment before he opts just to hang up. When he does he releases a shaky breath.
An hour later you get back with some stuff gently placing the stuff down as you take off your jacket and shoes.
Iwaizumi hears you scrambling up and running over. A sigh of relief falls as he sees you standing there. “Thank god..” he muttered softly, walking up to you.
You look over unsure what to say as you feel his arms tightly wrap around you. “I’m.. I’m sorry Hajime…” you whispered softly as tears welled up. You hugged him tight as you felt terrible. “I’m sorry…” you whisper again.
“Hey it’s okay.. I know you didn’t mean to.. I just.. I was upset because it feels like sometimes when I do make time for you something happens.. like last time and shit. But when I don’t it always seems like you’re free and I thought we knew we were both open today and I woke up without you there and then I found out you were having coffee with someone and everything just started crashing down you know..?” He whispered softly.
“I know baby.. I know.. I’m sorry.” You whisper as you hear soft cries come from him. “I’ve got you.. okay? I promise next time I will remember.. I know I messed up okay? You didn’t deserve that..” you whispered as he kinda just stays quiet and holds on. “I got you some goodies baby…” you whisper.
“Please don’t leave like that again.. it made me worried..” he whispered now finally telling you. “I thought you left for good..” he muttered softly, holding you “you didn’t respond to my calls either..” he whispered softly.
“I’m sorry baby.. I won’t.. and you know I wouldn’t do that to you.. I love you too much for that okay?” You bit your lip as you listened “I didn’t see them.. I’ll check why later.. okay? I’m sorry,” you whisper and kiss his head holding him close. Soon enough he drags you to your shared bed to cuddle.
“I love you..” he whispered softly, holding on.
“I love you too Hajime,” you smiled softly, kissing him. Soon enough he fell asleep, the stress finally lifted off his shoulders. You were in his arms again. That’s all that mattered.
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stxrshxpxd · 3 years ago
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thats what you get for sleeping with the enemy x 90s!liam
pairing: 90s liam gallagher x reader
word count: 935
warnings: none
alright i wanted to write this concept again (wrote it on hessohigh) cause this oasis line is so fucking hot. and the prompt that liam is jealous of damon and secretly in love with you is just *chefs kiss*
i hope ill get back into writing longer better written things but lmao i hope this little fic is fine for now
* * *
I had definitely seen Liam upset before, but it had never been directed at me. The atmosphere was as cold as the beer he had just handed me. Not a word had been spoken, not even a greeting at the door.
I let out a short laugh at his weird mood as I followed him into his kitchen.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he finally spoke and turned around abruptly, leaning against his counter as he drank from his bottle and looked away.
“Is Noel being a dick again?” I pouted excessively, trying to gain, at the very least, eye contact. It seemed a grin or a chuckle was too much to ask for at the moment.
“No,” Liam snapped and began studying his bottle in detail. I watched him twist it around in his palm and pretend to read the label with a lowered head.
“Liam, I can leave if you don’t want me here,” I chuckled again, starting to feel really odd about standing in the middle of his kitchen with an ice cold beer in my hand and an even colder Liam in front of me.
“No,” he said quietly, his neck seeming to have grown stiff in its lowered position. I stayed for a moment in silence and waited for an explanation. I figured he wasn’t going to give one, but then he spoke again.
“I know where you’ll go if you leave.”
“Liam, can you look at me?” I asked in a slightly annoyed tone. He listened to me and looked up finally. It wasn’t much help though, as his face was emotionless and impossible to read.
“I would probably go back home,” I laughed, still confused.
“You’d go to Damon’s,” Liam said at last.
A small chuckle bubbled inside me, purely at the absurdity of the situation. There were many things I couldn’t wrap my head around. How did Liam know that I had slept with Damon the other night? Why was he so upset about it? Why did he care?
I made a face that I couldn't explain the emotion of, trying to think of the right question to ask.
“How-” I finally began, and Liam cut me off immediately.
“Every single tabloid.”
I stayed quiet and Liam kept talking, as he placed the bottle on his counter and wiped his cold damp palm on his jeans.
“Fucking loads of photos of the two of you snogging in some dirty pub.”
“Okay, well-“
“You slept with him?”
It had been the first time we had met properly. Being friends, with certain benefits, with Liam meant I had run into Damon a few times. We had never had a real conversation though, until the other night. The conversation in question had quickly turned physical and I had ended up waking up on top of his sheets, and under his arm, the next morning.
Had Liam not been so obviously hostile about the subject, I would have had no problem telling him the truth. But his frown made it almost impossible to answer his question, even though we both knew the answer.
“I mean…”
“Was he any good?”
“Why do you care?” I asked back and placed the bottle down on Liam’s kitchen table. He turned silent again. He stayed leaning against the counter with his one ankle casually crossed over the other.
“I’m not your girlfriend, am I?”
The word girlfriend hung heavier in the air than any other words that had previously been spoken. It was a rhetorical question, but I found myself wanting him to answer it. Granted, I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be.
“Fucking- I don’t know,” he cut himself off and tossed glances around the room, avoiding eye contact again.
“Well, I’m not,” I stated, a little too harshly. “You haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend. You don’t seem to want me to be your girlfriend. Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”
Every time I repeated it the word got heavier and bigger and Liam seemed to hate it.
“I want…” he began in a loud, upset tone. “You.”
His answer was vague, and as much as it annoyed me, it also pained me in a very different way.
He stopped leaning against the counter and in a swift movement he was standing right in front of me. His large hands held my waist firmly and one deep exhale of his fell on my nose.
“That’s not an answer to my question, Liam.”
Playfulness had made its way back into our repertoire and I realised how much I had missed his smug grin. It sat confidently on his lips and I felt it on mine as he kissed me. I knew Liam quite well, and I knew he was currently trying to cover up his emotions.
“I want you..” he echoed and tried his best to conjure up a better answer. “..to only want me.”
“In what ways?” I teased him further and tugged on his washed out Beatles tee.
“All of them. Especially the ones that make you forget about blonde little art school snobs.”
Liam’s fingertips continued to dig deeper into my sides, pushing all my right buttons. I was pushing all his buttons as well as I let my palms slide up inside his shirt slowly.
“Drama school,” I corrected, and Liam shut me up with an annoyed grunt embedded in a harsh kiss.
“Forget about him,” he demanded while our noses stayed pressing against each other.
“Consider him forgotten,” I promised as my hands reached his chest and I planted another kiss on his lips.
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago
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ANOTHER TITLE
a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself
pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader
word count: 1.8k
This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!
masterlist
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(gif is not mine)
You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.
Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.
Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.
Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.
“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”
He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.
Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.
“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”
He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.
“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”
Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.
You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.
As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.
“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”
“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.
Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.
“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.
At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.
Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.
Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!
“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.
“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.
You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.
“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”
He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.
“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.
Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.
“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.
“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.
“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.
“Which one?”
“Love of my life.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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sukirichi · 4 years ago
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earned it [06]
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Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.
cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭
notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)
series masterlist
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Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.
“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”
Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.
“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”
“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”
“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.
You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.
Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.
“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.
It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.
“Don’t you want that?”
His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”
“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”
“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.
“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.
“I expect an answer when I get home.”
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You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.
Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.
His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.
Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.
You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.
“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the  glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”
“I want to go home.”
He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”
“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”
“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”
You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.
Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.
“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”
“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”
You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”
“Even if he used to be your lover?”
“Especially because he used to be my lover.”
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Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.
Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.
Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?
Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?
It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.
Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.
“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”
You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.
Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?
“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.
Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”
“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.
Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.
You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.
“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”
“Because I don’t have the money!”
“What?”
“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”
“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”
Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”
“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”
“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.
Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.
“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”
“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”
“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”
“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”
“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”
You pushed yourself off him.
His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.
“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”
“Friendship?”
You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”
The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.
Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.
“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.
The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.
“I loved him as much as I hated you.”
Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.
“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”
You remembered what you tried to do today.
Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.
“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”
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It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.
His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.
You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”
“Trying to get into my good graces now?”
“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”
You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“That we’re back to being enemies?”
You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”
“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.
Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”
You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”
“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”
“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”
Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.
The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.
“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”
“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”
“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”
Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”
“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”
Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.
Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.
The hotel room was eerily silent.
Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.
An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)
His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.
You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.
“Did you really get dressed to kill?”
“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”
“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”
“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”
“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”
You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.
It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.
Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.
The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.
You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.
No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.
Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”
You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”
“I swear, I had no idea.”
“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”
“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?
If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”
Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.
He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.
Satoru danced with the devil.
And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.
Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.
Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.
A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?
The spell was broken in an instant.
Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.
“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”
You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.
As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”
You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”
“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”
“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”
“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”
“You guys are out to kill me too now?”
“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”
“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”
“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.
“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”
“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”
Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”
“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”
“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.
He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”
“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”
“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”
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SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*
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taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):
@sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant​ @mikiminaccch​ @riri-marley​ | bolded users cannot be tagged
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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago
Note
Heyy!!
I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?
BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?
Just cute ackerbabies!
Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!
Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.
Word Count: 1.7K
__
You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.
“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.
“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,
“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.
“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”
“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”
“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.
“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.
“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.
“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.
“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.
“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.
“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.
__
You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.
So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.
He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.
“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.
“H-How long until...”
“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.
“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.
“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.
“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.
“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.
__
Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.
“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.
“Nothing’s wrong...just-”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.
“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.
“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.  
“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having. 
“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly. 
“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office. 
“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet. 
__
The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion. 
It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home. 
One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease. 
It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side. 
“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of. 
“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features. 
“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue. 
“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply. 
“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you. 
“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head. 
“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing. 
“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking. 
“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully. 
“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips. 
“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his. 
You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else. 
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dreamrecorder · 4 years ago
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Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request
Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.
Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️
IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj
But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-
Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️
The heart yearns and the wind heard
lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks
anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long
The Yaksha sighs.
He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.
He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.
He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.
One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.
Xiao sighs again.
This is his karmic debt.
~
The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.
You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.
With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.
“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.
“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.
You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.
Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.
Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.
Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.
“Name?”
You answered immediately with a questioning hum.
“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”
It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.
Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.
Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’
“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.
~
When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.
“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.
“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.
The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.
Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”
Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”
You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.
“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”
The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.
“Did Ganyu tell you?”
The Archon nodded and you sighed.
“I volunteered, actually.”
And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.
“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.
For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.
“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”
A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”
You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”
“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”
~
The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?
You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”
Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.
To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.
He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“
“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.
~
As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.
If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.
Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.
Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.
Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.
The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.
It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.
It’s ready.
With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.
Scratch.
Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.
Scratch.
Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.
Scratch.
Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.
Scratch.
What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-
“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”
The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.
The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”
~
There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.
As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.
Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.
~
You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.
Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.
He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.
Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.
Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.
To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.
Everything hurts-
And everything was driving you mad.
You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall. 
This god- he was driving you mad slowly.
If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-
You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.
If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it. 
Please
However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.
~
Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.
The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.
With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more. 
“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?” 
To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”
“Where?” The Yaksha growled.
“In the Golden House.”
Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.
To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils. 
Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself. 
It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice. 
“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?” 
The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-
His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.
In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”
~
He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue. 
In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.
“I will ask you again, where is she?”
In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.
“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.
I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”
Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore. 
Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.
All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill
Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.
Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.
“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.
With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”
But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil. 
“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”
With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer. 
Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night. 
The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.
You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.
Please, just a little more...
Please, just stop...
Please...
The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.
“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”
With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.
“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-
You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.
“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’
The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”
With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.
After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”
The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.
A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-
how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks
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babygirl-diaz · 3 years ago
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We've read SamBucky meets Young Bucky and SamBucky meets Young Sam, now imagine Young Sam meets Young Bucky, that'll be legendary lmao
((Hey, anon! I hope this finds its way to you. I basically wrote this as crack. Hope you like it!))
***
“Buck?” Sam asked as he answered the phone. “You must be a mind reader because I was just about to call you. I have a big problem!”
“I have a big problem!”
Their same declaration surprised Sam, but Bucky’s problem couldn’t be as big as his, so he said as much, “I’m sure my problem is bigger than yours.”
“Yeah, don’t be so sure. Because I have an enormous problem.” Bucky huffed.
“Wait… Are we still talking about our problems?” Sam asked when he realized their conversation may have deviated to a very different route.
“Look, Sam, I don’t have time for this. You need to get to New York. Stat.” Bucky practically ordered, making Sam frown.
“I can’t,” Sam replied.
“What do you mean you can’t?” Bucky asked with an edge in his voice.
“I have a… house guest,” Sam replied as he turned around and looked at said guest, who was currently tied to the dining room chair. No, that’s not how Sam normally treated his guests, but this was an exception.
“A house guest? You are such a liar,” Bucky scoffed.
“You don’t have to believe me but it’s the truth.”
“Who is it?” Bucky asked.
“I can’t tell you that. You wouldn’t believe me if I did,” Sam replied and his own voice sounded nervous to him.
“Trust me, after what I’ve seen today, I’d believe in unicorns if you told me they existed,” said Bucky.
The line went quiet for a few seconds, and Sam wondered if Bucky had hung up. He had to admit; he was getting a little worried about his friend. “Bucky?”
“Fine, I’ll come to D.C. Give me a couple hours.” With that, Bucky hung up before Sam could say anything.
“Hello? Bucky?” Sam called out. “Dammit,” he mumbled under his breath.
Sam turned to his tied-up “house guest” and frowned at him. Said house guest was currently struggling in the chair. Sam walked over to the chair and slowly removed the duct tape from his mouth and the man glared at him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled. “Free me right now!”
“Not until I figure out who--- what you are,” Sam replied.
“I am YOU!” the man replied. Well, he was more like a kid. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“How is that possible?” Sam asked, “You are clearly some kind of--- shapeshifter!”
“Shapeshifter? They don’t exist!” The kid scoffed. He then released a deep breath and said, “Look, I know this is crazy--”
“That’s an understatement”
The kid pointedly ignored him, “--BUT I think I somehow ended up in the future. I mean, look at you, you’re old.”
“Excuse you!” Sam balked.
“I mean, you’re older than me…”
“How are you so chill about this?”
“You’re freaking out enough for the both of us,” the kid replied.
***
It took Bucky a little more than a few hours to get there.
“Well, about damn ti--” Sam said, opening the door, but stopped mid-sentence when he saw Bucky wasn’t alone.
Sam’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes widened when he saw the person beside Bucky. “What the fuck?” Just like Sam, there was a younger version of Bucky standing right in front of him.
Young Bucky pushed Buck aside and got in front of him. “Hey there, doll. I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can me Bucky,” young Bucky introduced himself and held out his hand in front of him.
Dumbfounded, Sam took his hand and shook it, but young Bucky held his hand for a little longer than necessary, and then, much to Sam’s surprise, he kissed the top of his hand.
Behind him, Bucky let out a groan.
“Seriously? Do you flirt with everything on two legs?” Bucky asked, sounding exasperated.
“I don’t discriminate, Metal Man,” young Bucky replied
“Metal Man?” Sam raised an eyebrow
“He’s part Metal, part Man, so Metal Man,” young Bucky told him excitedly
“Wow, you really gave that a lot of thought,” Sam said sarcastically.
“Ha! I like y--” young Bucky stopped mid-sentence and his eyes widened almost comically like a cartoon character. “Whoa,” he blinked at something behind Sam, and then, much to Sam’s surprise, he hip-checked him out of the way and invited himself into his apartment.
Sam turned around to find young Bucky carefully approaching young Sam.
“I think I’m in love,” he announced.
“What is happening?” Bucky asked. “Is that--”
“Yep, that’s the younger version of me,” Sam replied, looking at the kid in his military uniform.
“Shit… what is happening here?” Bucky asked again. “Where did they come from?”
“Hell if I know,” Sam replied.
Young Bucky was now on one knee in front of young Sam and staring up at him.
Sam could only see his younger self, who was staring back at young Bucky like he had hung the moon for him. And he suddenly seemed to have forgotten that he was tied to a chair.
“Hi,” young Sam whispered.
“Hi,” young Bucky replied. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky." He introduced himself but this time there wasn’t any flirtatiousness in his voice.
“I’m Samuel Thomas Wilson, but you can call me Sam.”
“Sam,” young Bucky repeated the name like he was testing it out. “You’re beautiful, Sam.”
Young Sam shyly looked down and bit down on his lips. “You’re not too bad-looking yourself,” he said.
“Sweetheart, do you have a dame or a fella in your life?” He asked.
“Dame or fella?” Sam whispered to Bucky, who just stood there stoic, not saying a word.
“No, I’m single,” young Sam replied. “I mean, this one guy just asked me out, but I was plucked from my timeline and thrown here before I could go on said date.”
“Well, I thank whatever god is out there for that,” said young Bucky. “I would have been really heartbroken if you were taken.”
“Why?” young Sam asked and bit down on his bottom lip.
“Because I think I may be in love with you.”
“What?!” Sam screeched
“Excuse me?!” Bucky asked at the same time.
Both Sam and Bucky looked at each other and rolled their eyes before turning back to the two young versions of themselves.
“I think I might reciprocate those feelings,” young Sam replied, much to Sam’s surprise. He doesn’t remember being this naïve and a complete dumbass.
“Great, they’re in love,” Buck grumbled beside him.
“They’re not in love… they’re just dumb kids,” Sam huffed.
“Which asshole tied you up like this?” Young Bucky asked as he untied Sam
“Him,” young Sam nodded towards Sam.
Young Bucky turned around and glared at him. “How dare you tie up the love of my life?”
“The love of your life?” Sam almost choked.
“Yes, Sam here is the one I have been looking for my whole life.” Bucky took young Sam’s hands as he stood up from the chair and the two of them stared at each other with love and awe. And then they were kissing...
Sam wasn’t sure which one of them initiated the kiss, but soon they were all over each other, kissing like they were two drowning men, holding onto each other for dear life.
“And now they’re kissing,” Bucky commented beside him.
“Wow, thanks for the commentary, Buck. I, of course, can’t see for myself that they’re kissing,” Sam scoffed.
“What do we do about them?” Bucky asked, clearing his throat.
The longer they kissed, the more awkward Sam felt, standing next to his best friend, who he most definitely didn’t want to kiss.
The two kids pulled apart from the kiss, but stayed close to each other and giggled like a couple of schoolgirls. They were whispering something to each other that Sam couldn’t hear.
“Have you ever thought about--” Sam didn’t finish his thought.
“About kissing you?” Bucky finished it for him. “Yes, I have.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Sam asked.
“Didn’t want you to kick my ass,” Bucky replied.
That made Sam chuckle. “I wouldn’t have kicked your ass. Not for that, anyway.”
Soon Bucky’s metal hand found its way to Sam’s, and he took it and intertwined their fingers.
Young Bucky and young Sam were kissing again and Sam suddenly had the urge to kiss his own Bucky. Their young versions soon pulled away and took each other’s hands before coming over to Sam and Bucky.
“We have decided that Sam is coming with me back to my timeline,” young Bucky informed them.
“Uh no, he’s not,” Sam replied. “You don’t exactly come from a tolerant time.”
“I have to agree with Sam,” Bucky chimed in.
“Fine! Then Bucky is coming with me,” young Sam huffed.
“He can’t,” Bucky told him. “He’s not from this universe.”
“What?!” Sam asked.
“He comes from a universe where Peggy Carter became the Captain, not Steve.”
“What the hell?” Sam blinked at young Bucky. A person from a whole other universe. That was crazier than his younger self coming here from the past.
“Wait, you’re friends with Captain America? You’re that Bucky Barnes?!” Young Sam asked, surprised.
“No, that’s him,” Sam said, pointing at his Bucky.
Young Sam completely ignored him and grinned at Bucky. “That’s the coolest thing ever. My boyfriend is a famous historical figure.”
“Your boyfriend?” Bucky, Sam’s Bucky, choked.
And then young Sam and young Bucky were kissing again.
“Wait till he finds out that you’re Captain America,” Bucky chuckled.
Sam glared at him in return. “We’re not telling them anything. We don’t know what the repercussions will be!”
Young Sam and young Bucky were so lost in each other that they didn’t even hear Sam and Bucky talking about them. The young ones finally pulled apart to catch a breath.
“I’m not going anywhere without him,” young Sam adamantly told him and took young Bucky’s hand again.
“I’m not going anywhere without him either,” added young Bucky. “I believe I was sent here to meet the love of my life.”
“He is not the love of your life,” Sam sighed. “You’re kids. How old are you again?”
“I’m 20!” Young Bucky replied.
“I’m 18,” said young Sam. “We’re not kids.”
“Metal Man and Not Sam--”
“Hey! I am Sam.” Sam glared at him.
Young Bucky smirked “Metal Man and Not Sam, you are going to figure out how to keep us together.”
“What?” Bucky and Sam asked at the same time.
“You’re gonna figure out a way to keep us together because if you don’t then we’ll just stay here and mess up your timeline,” young Sam added.
“This is a nightmare. This cannot be real,” Sam said, horrified.
119 notes · View notes
xmint-conditionx · 4 years ago
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art on exhibit | myg + jhs feat. knj
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pairing: sugardaddy!hoseok x fem!reader, ceo!yoongi x fem!reader, brat!reader, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, dom!yoongi w/c: 5k but i feel like it should be so much longer for some reason smh summary: you and your sugar daddy, hoseok, are big fans of exhibitionism, but this is the craziest you’ve ever taken it. most of his prestigious party guests are jumping to get to get their hands on you. will you be able to handle it? tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, remote controlled vibrator, almost reaching limits, spanking, marking, biting, ball gag, degradation (slut), praise, punishment, crying, light oral (f recieving), public humiliation, rope play, shibari, suspension, almost like being pimped out but u like it?, open relationship, hoseok is sort of protective tho, overstimulation, subspace, the orgasm nearly kills you, this one is real nasty, namjoon is just a guest appearance tbh but maybe later he doesn't have to be???
a/n: this thing has given me so much trouble by not appearing in tags. it didn't the first time i posted it on the old blog, and it hasn't been showing up this time either, so please feel free to give this one some extra love. also, honestly, i was sitting on this idea for a long! time! before i actually wrote it out. if i was spaced out in my last class of the day, i was probably thinking about this. i am almost proud and almost ashamed to share this with you all, lmao cause it's honestly a huge fantasy of mine. i’ve been really wanting to do a sugardaddy!hoseok thing for a while, and if you guys like this, then i think i can add more to the story. alright, y’all stay nasty. enjoy!
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The ropes dig into the skin of your thighs ever so gently, and you close your eyes to listen to the din of the party that surrounds you. Guests only arrived 30 minutes ago, and you’re already dripping wet. This isn’t the first time you and Hoseok have done exhibitionism, but this is the farthest it’s ever been taken. Men and women in their best black tie attire surround you, glasses of his most expensive champagne in their hands. Not all of them are looking at you; some are too bashful to acknowledge your existence. Some only sneak glances when they think nobody else is looking. Few have come up and examined your entire naked frame, suspended from Hoseok’s ceiling in the middle of his entertainment space.
They’re examining you as if you were a piece of fine art; just another pretty and peculiar object that Hoseok has collected. You’re placed among some of his other art pieces - some Pollocks, some Dalis, some Picassos, and one O’Keefe - and somehow, you feel like you fit. That’s what Hoseok had said anyway. That since you were one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his life, he wanted to feature you as the work of art you are. He chose to display you in his favorite way.
Red shibari rope surrounds each of your legs like a cage before confining your hands behind your back. The rope trails over your torso and is twisted and knotted around your exposed breasts, but not tightly. Just enough to accentuate your natural shape. Your legs are tied so that they remain apart, one held higher than the other to leave you fully exposed. Your stomach is facing the floor, but not entirely; Hoseok has tied you so that you’re almost lounging comfortably there, suspended in midair. The lines of rope flow with the form of your body, and even though all of your weight is pressed down onto them, the ropes are the soft and luxurious kind - no doubt expensive - that make you feel as though you could be floating instead.
Just then, your attention is jolted to your cunt, where his favorite black remote control vibrator has just been triggered. You clench around it, and your moan is muffled by the ball gag that is secured over your lips. When you open your eyes, he is standing solidly in front of you.
His black button up shirt and jacket combination is draped over his shoulders beautifully, and his shiny brown hair is parted in the middle. He looks incredible. Radiant. Sinful.
“You looked bored,” he says with a little smirk as he continues to let the vibrator run inside of you, “and we can’t have that… Perhaps I should turn it up.”
He twists a small knob on the remote and the vibrations steadily rise in frequency until they’re as high as they can go. A semblance of a scream escapes your lips behind the gag. You begin rocketing toward climax, but Hoseok knows you and your body too well. Just as you begin to feel the tingles spread over your body, he shuts it off, and your muscles immediately go lax from being tensed up and ready to come.
He laughs softly as you pant, and then takes a quick look around the room.
“You seem to have gathered some attention. That’s my good girl.”
Without another word, he pockets the remote, and you watch how his ringed fingers delicately pick up a flute of champagne from one of the server’s tray tables. Then he simply walks away. His immaculately shiny black shoes gently thud on the marble floor as he makes his way through the crowd, to presumably some other obscenely rich friend of his.
You feel a small amount of saliva about to peak over your bottom lip. You’ve been good about swallowing everything but it seems your denied orgasm has made you forgetful. Moments later, a small thread of your own spit runs out of your mouth and onto the floor. You know that you have been dripping from the other end too, and you wonder if any of the guests have just seen you drool on yourself.
As if to answer, Hoseok comes back from behind you and grabs you by the jaw. His face lights up when he confirms that you have made a mess of yourself. He turns to one of his guests and speaks.
“See, Namjoon?” he says, tilting your head up toward his guest so that he can see, “She’s incredible.”
You meet eyes with the guest, and put on your best innocent look. You love how a blush starts to creep up into his cheeks, and how his pillowy lips part slightly. Even though you’re bound from head to toe and easily the poorest person here, you feel like you’re the most powerful person in the room. The guest clears his throat and turns his attention back to Hoseok.
“How much was your price?” he asks.
Hoseok looks down at you, and a smirk begins to form on his plush lips.
“1,000 US Dollars. Per second,” he says, “Which charity will it be, then?”
You’d been the one to come up with the idea for the proceeds from the charity fundraiser to be benefitted by getting to control the vibrator. Hoseok loved it.
“Your education charity,” he says, “and I’ll take 30 seconds.”
Hoseok nods, “Do you want to go ahead and write the check now or do you want me to keep a tab running and let you know at the end of the evening?”
The tall man considers this, and looks back at you for a moment before answering, “keep it open, will you?”
“Alright, Mr. Kim. All yours,” Hoseok says as he fishes out the device from his suit pocket before turning to you, “Be good, you hear me? Don’t come until you have been given permission by either Mr. Kim or myself. Understood?”
You nod frantically as you watch the remote being transferred from Hoseok’s hands to Namjoon’s. The earlier flustered man turned more confident once he held the little black fob in his palm - quite a large palm now that you look at it closely. It would look so nice trailing up your thigh, you think. You look up at Namjoon and convey a pleading look, one that silently asks for mercy.
He does not give it.
With a small grin, he turns on the vibrator, and you scream (or try to) at the suddenness of the sensation. He spends his entire 30 seconds with the device in your pussy at full speed, and you can’t hold back your groaning. You clench around the bullet, and when his time is up, you feel beads of sweat starting to form on your brow from the exertion. You’re left a panting mess in front of him, Hoseok, and every other guest that has turned to watch you squirm.
Namjoon’s satisfied smile and nod encourages others in the room to have a turn. Before long, you see a few more guests make their way over to where you are hanging. This time it is a group of women.
“Hye-jin!” Namjoon exclaims, before he hugs the woman and offers a short to the three others that come over with her. She’s dressed in the most beautiful black form fitting dress you’ve ever seen. Her hourglass figure sways captivatingly in the gown, and you’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. You look up at her and she’s smirking down at you; you were too distracted at the way the large jewels on her necklace fell over her collarbones to realize that they were already discussing you.
“I should have known it would be you to break the ice,” she says playfully to Namjoon, who just presses his lips together in resignation as he puts his hand to the back of his neck.
“How’s the comeback?” he asks casually, as if there isn’t a fully naked and exposed woman suspended in front of him. His ability to be so casual while you’re at the edge of your sanity shoots a ping of arousal through your body. You shiver slightly, and you catch Hoseok looking at you out of the corner of his eyes. He’d never admit it, but he cares about you a lot. You can tell he’s checking to make sure you aren’t getting ready to start snapping your fingers- the safe action you’d both agreed on to release you from the ropes and send you into his master suite. Even when he had walked over to find Namjoon, you know even then he wasn’t out of sight or earshot from you.
He had a clean and plush robe stowed away in the closet nearby, and was always ready to release you should you want to be. You’d worked together before the event to set up a space in his suite to go should you need to retire for the evening, and you caught him setting a hoodie of his on the side of the bed where you typically sleep. You’d always playfully taken them, either to flirt or to wear it (and only it) to encourage a round two. But he had never deliberately set one of them aside for your use. He knows you won’t be using it to flirt or to rouse him into more sex, so his little efforts to bring you as much comfort as possible had set alight something in your heart.
He really did take pride in taking good care of you. As a good sugar daddy should.
You’re yanked back to reality when the vibrator starts up again. You clench around it and feel a gush of wetness surge out at the sensation of it going at full blast. Just when you become used to the speed and lower your whining, you open your eyes to see the woman holding the remote this time, grinning down at you with full lips. She meets your gaze and turns it up all the way, which makes you tense up every last one of your muscles. The woman next to her with long, light hair and a wicked gaze, whispers something to her while eyeing you up and down. It then occurs to you that you weren’t paying attention and don’t know how much time she purchased.
As the seconds tick by, they feel like hours. With the device at full speed, you feel yourself closing in on a climax, and so you squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the orgasm that is about to rip through your body…
She turns it down to the lowest setting and watches as you groan at the second denial crushes you. More saliva drips down your chin as she switches it off, leaving you with only the beads of sweat that cling to your skin.
“Thank you, Hoseok. Worth every penny,” Hye-jin says, handing the remote back to him.
Hoseok beams his thousand-watt smile at her, and congratulates her on both the success of Maria, her solo album, and then thanks her for her donation.
She thanks him in return, and both women walk back into the crowd. Namjoon has also gone, which just leaves you with Hoseok again. His eyes meet yours for a moment, and you see a fire in them that you’ve never seen before. You’re dangling about waist height, and you can’t help but to look down from his face to try to see if you can make out a bulge. You don’t get time to really look, because as soon as you break eye contact, he moves to your back and smacks your ass cheek hard. A loud thwack echoes throughout the large space, over the din of the partygoers. You inhale sharply at the sting, and let your breath back out in a long groan, drawing the attention of more guests. You knew that the champagne would loosen inhibitions eventually.
You hear the footsteps of a couple other guests walking toward you from behind where Hoseok stands. You crane your head to try to see over your shoulder, but they stand just out of your peripheral vision. They’re talking in low voices, and you can’t make out what they’re saying. You wish you could swing yourself around and look at them, but knowing that the only thing they can see of you is your dripping cunt, you’re not so mad.
You feel a hand on your thigh, a touch you’re familiar with. You know it’s Hoseok’s hand, as he gently trails up your inner thigh, purposefully teasing you. An involuntary shiver runs through your body and you can’t help but to whimper slightly. You hear a man’s chuckle, and then he’s speaking, again too low for you to hear.
Hoseok uses his grip on your inner thigh to spin you around so that you’re facing the group of men. Namjoon has come back, this time with what appears to be a friend in tow.
“Baby girl,” Hoseok’s voice says gently, and you look up to meet his gaze, “Yoongi here has just asked if he may touch you.” Your eyes widen at the thought, remembering how just Hoseok’s hand trailing up your thigh had your toes curling. You look up at the new guest, and see only a cold and stone-like expression. His eyes seem to bore right through you, and directly into your cunt. You’re momentarily mesmerized under his heavy stare, before you slowly nod your head.
“Yoongi here has just generously donated one million dollars to one of my charities, so do you know what that means?” he asks you, not expecting an answer, “How long is one thousand seconds?”
“Sixteen minutes and 40 seconds,” Yoongi says, not breaking eye contact from you, “If I’m correct.”
If your mouth could drop, it would. Namjoon, looking up from his phone, just nods nonchalantly.
Hoseok asks the man what he has asked everyone else: if they would like to keep a running tab or if they would like to write a check now. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out what you assume to be his checkbook. With rings glittering in the lighting of the room, his hand swiftly fills it out. He rips it out and extends it to Hoseok.
“I won’t be needing more time.”
His cool confidence in saying this small phrase makes your stomach drop.
Hoseok grips your chin and tilts your head up. “Remember, baby girl, don’t come until you’re told to. You want to be on your best behavior for Mr. Min. Trust me.”
He speaks sternly and then releases your jaw, trailing his hand back to stroke your messy hair, before settling on your two hands secured behind your back and giving them a light squeeze. A silent reminder of your out, should you need it.
This Yoongi must be… a force to be reckoned with.
“Your time starts now,” Hoseok says, tapping his phone screen. You squeeze shut your eyes and brace yourself for the abrupt shock of the vibrations, but seconds pass, and they don’t come. You gingerly open your eyes and look up at the man standing above you, toying with the remote. He regards it with vague interest, and then he flicks up his eyes to look at you. Your heart stops for a moment, as he begins to rake his onyx eyes over your body. He purses his lips slightly and begins walking around you, all too slowly.
Even though he has disappeared from your view, you can feel his eyes on you. Your anxiousness grows as he remains out of your sight longer, and this is no doubt intentional. It seems as if he picked up your unease earlier when he first approached.
This guy is good.
You’re so on edge, that the light vibrations that begin in your cunt still surprise you. He turned the vibrator on to its lowest setting, but these low and slow vibrations still make you have a sharp intake of breath. He finally arrives back to your front and seems pleased at your reaction. He squats down so that his face is level with yours.
“What a good girl you are,” he muses, lips parted, tongue playing with the inside of his cheek, “I hope Hoseok here treats you well. You seem… pent up.”
At those last two words, he revs up the vibrations slightly, causing you to let out a small moan. He stands and puts the remote in his pocket. You watch as he gently rolls up his sleeves to the elbow, his forearm flexing as he fixes them. Your hungry stare betrays you.
“Is she always like this?” he asks Hoseok, almost laughing at you. “God, she’s desperate.” He looks at you. “Does Hobi not fuck you enough, little girl?”
Your eyes widen at the implications, and you furiously shake your head no, trying to convey as much as you can with your eyes alone. He just chuckles.
“Loyal,” he says, “I like that.” He looks back up at Hoseok. “Is your agreement exclusive, or is there room in her life for a second... benefactor?” You look up at your sugar daddy, eyes wide with what he might say. He’s just standing there, arms folded over his chest, as if he were discussing the weather or the stock market.
“I’m afraid she’s all booked up for the foreseeable future, unfortunately,” he says cooly but firmly, a little bit of edge to his voice.
“Pity,” Yoongi says, taking a step toward you, “I could think of a million good ways to take up her time.”
“You’ve got 14 minutes left,” is all Hoseok says in response, a definite sharpness to his tone. You’ve only heard this type of voice from him when you’re being particularly bratty. You rarely hear him this stern.
The vibrations quicken slightly, and you can tell from your frequent use that the device is at about its medium speed.
Yoongi takes his hand and reaches out to your back, and with a featherlight touch, begins to trace next to where the ropes lie. He keeps working down your back, and gently trails down your bare ass cheek and ghosts against your pussy. You can feel the heat from his hand, impossibly close to touching you. You hold your head back and try to look at him as you whine out a plea.
“Eyes straight ahead, little girl,” he says, and you comply reluctantly, flopping your head forward dramatically as you sigh. His hand grabs hold of your thigh, and squeezes it so hard you’re sure you’ll find a bruise there in the morning. “And lose the attitude.”
You whimper as he releases your thigh, and goes back to delicately running his fingertips up to your core. He stops just short of your cunt, and you desperately want him to just touch you. You flex your back and buck your hips in order to push yourself onto where you know his hand is. Your clit makes contact with his hand, and as soon as you feel it connect, you feel it missing. Not even a moment later, a sharp sting spreads across your ass, and you clench around the vibe.
“What a greedy little slut you are. Do you always misbehave this much?”
You turn your head back to look at him, and as you meet his eyes, you can see he begins to fume.
“Namjoon, keep her head straight. Someone's not listening.”
You turn your head back around and Namjoon is quickly grabbing your jaw firmly in his hand. Your eyes meet his, and his earlier show of no mercy seems to still be intact. You feel Yoongi’s hand soothe the soreness he just created, only to once again reel back and give the same spot another firm smack, just as hard as the first one.
You cry into the ball gag and the shockwave from his hit sends you slightly swinging forward into Namjoon’s belt. Even though the vibrator is only at medium speed, you feel yourself beginning to get close to a climax. Your moans get longer and higher, and your body tenses to prepare for it. You hear Yoongi behind you.
“Don’t.”
You know exactly what he means. You focus on your breathing and furrow your brow in an attempt to stave off your orgasm. It’s working, but barely. He turns up the vibrations and you cry out again, your head shaking as much as Namjoon’s firm grip will allow.
“Don’t.”
You distance yourself from the situation, distracting yourself with thinking about schoolwork. The essay you’re currently writing. How the rough draft needs to be done by tomorrow night. You need three more in-text citations to make --
His hand is against your clit, and he’s rubbing at an agonizingly slow pace, with just enough pressure for you to want more. You inhale sharply and work harder to distract yourself.
You have two of the quotes picked out, but you need to finalize the third one to really hammer in your point. Maybe you can spend tomorrow morning reading --
His lips graze over the ass cheek he tortured earlier, your smarting skin responding sharply to the gentle contact. He gives you a soft kiss, and then you feel a sharp pain as he sinks his teeth into your already ruined ass.
Your eyes fly open and you make desperate eye contact with Namjoon, trying to show him that you can’t last much longer. Thankfully, this Namjoon is a perceptive man, and he looks from you to Yoongi.
“She can’t take much more, Yoongi.”
“Good,” he says, breath grazing over where he just bit as he speaks. “Come, slut.”
For the first time tonight, your orgasm peaks and rips out of you. Your whole body trembles with the sensation, and you feel his pressure on your clit increase to see you through. The orgasm is hard, and long, and it leaves you with tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running wildly. You’re coming down slowly, and you feel his hand pull away. Before you realize it, he is standing in front of you again. Namjoon releases you, and your head hangs lifelessly as you pant.
Yoongi stands directly in front of you again, and you find yourself staring at his expensive shoes. You’re completely spent. Post orgasm bliss spreads throughout your muscles, and then, a slight discomfort. You realize what it is: the vibrator is still going.
You squirm lazily and whine at the sensation, it being too much. Yoongi squats down and gently lifts up your head by the chin. Your exhausted eyes meet his, and he clicks his tongue.
“Aw, are you all sensitive now?” he asks gently, in an almost patronizing tone. You don’t care. You nod sleepily.
“Is the vibrator too much, little girl?” You nod once more, eyes fluttering shut.
“Then use your safeword gesture,” he says, almost as if it’s a dare. "Go on. Snap."
If he’s not done with you, then you’re not done. You open your eyes and look directly at him as if to say “challenged accepted.”
Without moving his eyes from yours, he cranks up the vibrations until you’re whimpering again.
“Six more minutes,” you hear Hoseok say from beside you.
“Plenty of time,” Yoongi replies without skipping a beat. “I think we can get three more in. One every two minutes? Surely a slut like you will have no problem with that, since you wanted to come so badly earlier.”
You groan at the ache in your cunt, and at the slight displeasure the vibrator is causing. Yoongi stands again and walks back behind you, and this time you know better than to move your head to look.
Soon the vibrations begin to feel pleasurable again, and you’re having a hard time keeping your moans quiet.
“Atta girl,” you hear Yoongi say from behind you, “Your next one’s already coming isn’t it? You greedy little thing. You’re going to ruin Hoseok’s nice floors with your slick. And in front of all these people?”
Just like that, you’re reminded that you have an audience. Quite a large one. You open your eyes to see just about every guest’s gaze glued to your straining form. The heat bubbles in your abdomen as your next climax rushes toward you.
“You may come again,” is all Yoongi says as you’re thrown off the edge again. As soon as you begin to recover from this one, he ups the vibrator to full speed. You scream into the ball gag at the overstimulation, and cry out as tears spill out of your eyes. It’s entirely too much, but you love it. Before you realize it, another orgasm rips through your body, almost as if it were a continuation of the last one.
He doesn’t miss this though, and spreads your ass cheeks apart so he can get a better view. At this point, you’re not sure if you can do another one. You feel as though you might pass out if you come again. But the overstimulation is so overwhelming that you can only think of reaching one more high. You tense your entire body and try to get another one, but your muscles are so spent that you can’t stay tense for long. After a few more tries, you just sigh and hang limply, your limbs heavy and tired. You hang on the edge of climax, being able to see the other side, but not being able to go there.
Mascara tears stain your cheeks from exertion, and you are well and truly spent. You give up.
But you don’t snap your fingers.
Yoongi fastens his lips over your aching clit, and sucks. Just like that, you feel your orgasm building again so you clench, desperately trying to claim it; this time, you reach it.
It tears through you like a slow strike of lightning. You feel yourself shaking as it takes its time fracturing within you. It grows white hot in your belly, and it’s as if every cell in your body has been burned alive. All of the energy you have left is spent thrashing in the ecstasy of your orgasm, and for a few seconds, you know nothing else but the pleasure.
You find yourself deep in subspace, practically dead to the world. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes. You barely register Hoseok as he begins untying the ropes around your hands, getting assistance from both Namjoon and Yoongi. You feel his hands as he releases your ball gag and caresses your face as he asks if you’re okay. You give the tiniest nod, and he wraps your limp form tightly in his arms as the two men finish unwrapping your legs. He swoops down and sweeps your legs up to carry you bridal style away from the party.
The next thing you know is the soft and cool silk of his sheets enveloping you as he lays you down. You exist there for a time, every nerve ending in your body tingling as you drift off.
You wake some time later to hear quiet chatting. You inhale and breathe in the musky scent of Hoseok’s favorite cologne. You find yourself curled around the hoodie he left for you. As you slowly open your eyes, you can just make out the time on the nightstand clock. It’s almost 3 AM; the fundraiser had to have ended over four hours ago. You breathe slowly and close your eyes again so you can focus on the voices in the room.
You hear Hoseok straight away; his tone is forever instantly familiar to you. The way his normal speaking rhythm is a little sloppy with alcohol. In reply is a voice you more recently became acquainted with. The voice who you last heard giving you permission to come. It’s a little bit more rough now, a Daegu accent slipping out in his intoxication. The third one takes you by surprise. A low and calm voice. Lower than you’d ever suspected possible, from hearing him speak this evening. Even still, Namjoon’s even tone is a rumble you can make out.
You sit up slowly, not wanting the blood to rush to your head. You were sleeping hard. Your dry mouth guarantees that. At your movement, the three men stop their talking and look over at you. Hoseok is the first to set down his glass and walk over to you. His black tie is gone and so is his jacket. His collar is wide open, showing off his tanned chest behind the many unfastened buttons. He gets on his knees next to the bed and reaches for your hands. Once he finds them, his brow is creased with worry, as he brings your hands up to his lips.
“Are you alright, baby girl?” he asks into your hands. You still have the weight of sleep over you, so you don’t respond right away.
“She had her gesture, Hoseok. She could have used it,” you hear Yoongi say, and you look in his direction. He sits with his legs spread, glass of whiskey hanging off of his fingers. Your eyes meet, and even though he’s trying to seem impertinent and uncaring, there’s a tinge of worry and guilt in his eyes. You glance to Namjoon and see that his worry is more plainly stated.
Hoseok caresses your cheek and turns you back to facing him. His eyes plead for an answer. So you give it.
“Yes,” you say, voice raspy, “I’m alright. I feel great, actually.” Hoseok visibly relaxes and you hear Yoongi across the room mutter an “I told you so” to Namjoon.
“He didn’t push you too hard?” Hoseok asks.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you reply smugly, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, “But he did well and truly wear me out... Clearly."
You chuckle as Hoseok covers your hands in a million tiny kisses.
“Perhaps I do need to step my game up,” he teases, “I’ve never seen you so fucked out.”
“Nothing a good nap can’t fix,” you tease back. He smiles up at you, and you once again get lost in his brightness and warmth. “Mind if I join you all for a drink?”
“Of course not, baby girl,” Hoseok says, “I’ll go get your robe--”
“Don’t bother,” you say, wiggling into his hoodie and pulling the hood up and over your hair, “but you can go get me a glass.”
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gb-patch · 4 years ago
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Ask Answers: May 15th Part 1
It’s been longer than usual since our last answer session, so I’m answering a ton of questions today! It’s so big I split it into two parts. Thank you for the patience on getting a response to these.
Thanks for reaching out to us with your questions and kind words ^^!
Sorry if this has been asked before or isn't something you can say but is there anyway for Cove to confess in step 4? I wanted him to confess in step 3 and followed all the steps to make him do it but ended up texting my family instead of Cove at the end.
Yeah, Cove can confess in Step 4!
Hello! I heard that Cove is on the spectrum, albeit undiagnosed. As someone who is ND, this makes me UNBELIEVABLY happy. I literally was brought to tears! Thank you for that!
Out of curiosity, will Cove be diagnosed in Step 4? I have a strong feeling y’all won’t make it a HUGE deal/make it out to be negative, so I’m not worried about that whatsoever! I’m just curious just he’ll off handedly mention it? Or will it just not be touched upon at all (which is ok!)?
Either way is ok, I’m just curious!
I’m happy it made you happy! Admittedly, Cove simply being someone with autism that grew up not being diagnosed was something I included for myself. I didn’t really think anyone would notice or ask about it, aha. But players did start to have questions about his traits, so I started to talk about it outside of the game. It’s great to see it get such a positive response and now I do feel like having it be a non-topic may have been the wrong choice and bringing it up would’ve been good in terms of having positive representation for that. I don’t know if I’ll find a way to mention it in Step 4 now, with how far along the game is, but I am at least thinking about it when originally it wasn’t something I really even considered.
Hey!  Just wanted to say thank you for Our Life.  It's been a bright spot and a needed escape in what's otherwise been a crummy year.  I know you just did a Q&A post but I figured I'd ask anyway.  Was just curious about Step 4.  Will it be similar to the other Steps in that it consists of several different moments or will it just be one long sequence?
Step 4 is shorter than the prior Steps because it’s just an epilogue rather than a full arc of a story. It’ll consist of scenes that all happen in a set row one after the other. There won’t be a collection of Moments to choose from. But it’ll still be very sweet and fun.
¡hola!, you see, first I want to say that I love Our Life! (°◡°♡) and I have 2 important questions, would Cove cry watching titanic? and what is the saddest part according to him? (sorry for my english) 
Titanic would make him cry. He’d probably think the parts showing people who aren’t able to make it to the life boats/are choosing to stay and go down with the ship were the saddest.
Hello, I wanted to ask how much you earn with creating games? Like is it possible to make a living? Thank you >< <3 
How much I earn varies a lot month to month based on Steam sales, Patreon backers, and how many projects are in full production at the time. It’s also hard to say how much I make historically, since that also changes dramatically year by year. But I do earn enough to work on these games full time! I really appreciate all the support that allows me to do that.
Hey!! I was wondering for the 18+ Our Life moment, will there be an emphasis on safety/comfort for all involved? I feel like there  would be just going off of what the rest of the game is like, but I wanted to ask 
Yes! Cove is a nervous boy himself and also super cautious about doing anything the MC doesn’t like, so clear consent from both is absolutely needed for anything to happen. It’s a conversational sexy times Moment with stops/starts so the two can talk about how they’re feeling, rather than a heat of the moment just going for it kind of thing.
Hey!! I was wondering how long the wedding dlc would be? Will it be broken up into moments, or just one big event? 
It’s one long series of scenes all in a row rather than a collection of Moments to pick from. It’s the shortest and the least expensive of all the DLCs. It’s not super crucial to get and those who aren’t into big weddings can totally skip it without worry.
HELLO AMAZING DEVS 👋 i am hopelessly in love with the worst guy ever (jeremy king) and because of this i have a really stupid question: does he really hate people who are nice to him? TvT he’s too cute to be mean to istg it’s a miracle JB held the urge to be consistently nice to him bc just look at his FACE he is so cute! thank you for jeremy’s route it’s so lovely (and awful bc he’s scum 11/10) it gave me so much laughs LMAO i hope you guys have a good day!! 
Haha, thank you. He doesn’t hate them but he’s certainly not pleased with them. Jeremy is either uncomfortable with or annoyed by people being sweet on him, depending on how they approach it. He’s far more comfortable with jerkiness. It lets him relax and he can be himself without it being a problem, since he’s also a jerk. He feels a level of guilt being such a little punk to kind people, not enough to be a better person but still.
Has Cove dated or been interested in someone other than MC? 
Nope! He stays single over the course of the game if he’s not with the MC.
Is Step 4 more mature? Or it's gonna be set in similar atmosphere as Step 3? 
Step 4 is a similar atmosphere as Step 3. Though, it’s actually kind of less mature-topic heavy than Step 3 since it’s just a ‘hey, let’s check in on the gang to see what they’re up to’ style epilogue rather than a story arc with serious issues.
will there be new music for now and forever?? or will the old our life music be reused? 
It’s gonna be a brand new soundtrack. We’ll be opening up a job position for that soon.
Hi, is it okay if we use the assets in Our Life (like the sprites) for fanworks or fan content content, like edits? 
Sure! Just as long as you don’t use the assets made by those artists to make money.
Quick clarification on Step 3 choices: I hope I didn't come off rude (because I LOVE the game, really!!), I was just curious because the intro threw me off at times. For example, you could choose how you felt about Elizabeth in Step 2 (Dinner), but during the Step 3 intro, it says that you got closer to Liz and I didn't get a choice in it. 
For the example, it can’t be helped that you’re closer to Liz in Step 3 than you were in Step 2 because she’s inherently closer to the MC regardless of whether you liked her or not in Step 2. Her feelings are out of your control and the game isn’t so dramatic that you can push her affection away and not let her bond with you, haha. But ‘being closer’ can still be relative. For some people maybe that means you’re best buds now and for others it might just mean you’re not fighting all the time any more. If there’s other parts you want to mention, feel free to let us know.
Did the illustrator for Our Life change? 
We have many OL artists! The main artists who set the game’s style haven’t changed, but there’s multiple other artists who help finish assets.
So Miranda's type is confident and outgoing, huh? So...does that mean Terri's her type?? 👀 
Haha, sorry for the late reply on this. As you might’ve seen in our post yesterday- yeah that is her type.
Hey! First, I just want to say I've really enjoyed how detailed OL got with gender identity and sexuality and how respectful the topics were handled! It's been so wonderful to play since the experiences could be close to my own (I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up at parts). Second, I was wondering, would future games explore the topic of polyamory? I'd love to see more visual novels allow room for that and I saw you've explored the topic before.
Keep up the amazing work! ♡
Thank you! We do want to include polyamory in at least some of our future projects. Floret Bond, which might be what you’re referring to when mentioning how we’ve explored the topic before, is on hold unfortunately. So right now I’m not sure when something might release or what will be the first game of ours to come out with poly relationships (we might do something else before FB is done). We’ll have see how things ends up coming together.
Hey um. I feel like im not allowed to ask this on the private discord cuz people will yell at me but why is there so much focus on OL2 and not finishing OL1 stuff? I like the new people but i kind of want to finish cove's story and get derek and baxter stuff first. didn't people pay for it? 
I’m sorry, I don’t understand entirely what’s making that situation a concern. There’s a channel in the discord for critique where no one is allowed to comment back. People can voice things they’re worried about without any way for others to push back on it. And the two teams working on the OL games are different. We try to post pretty often about how we’re hiring brand new people to start on Our Life: Now & Forever. The OL1 team is all still working on OL1 like normal. There’s only more updates on the Patreon for OL2 because the expansions to the first game are mostly script-based at this point while OL2 is just starting to get all its art, which means there’s a lot more to show off as previews.
Also, there was a Kickstarter for the first Our Life, if that’s what you mean by people paying for it. But one of the stretch goals was to start Our Life 2 early, before fully completing Our Life 1, so that the new game could be out sooner. It wouldn’t make sense to stop doing OL2 work because that would be going against what backers were promised. Maybe you didn’t get the full story before and hopefully this clears it up!
Hello! I know it's up to every player but.. What is your recommendation for playing order? Did you ever had any timeline  events planned? 
I didn’t make the events with a planned timeline. The events got made simply as I had ideas for them and then I just kind of organized them from left to right on the screen in an order to space out more dramatic ones between more lighthearted ones. Any order the player wants to go with is totally valid!
Hi! It's Step 4 a paid dlc or update? And how long it's planned to be? Ps. Love the game! 
The Step 4 epilogue is free! The Cove Wedding DLC does cost money, though. Those are planned to be shorter than the usual Steps/DLCs.
Will we have options for what sort of job the MC might have by the time step 4 takes place? 
Yeah, you can. It’s not super exact or detailed, but there are options about it.
Is there a pandemic in Our Life world, or is it just in a better timeline with no pestilence? 
Our Life is pandemic-free! That didn’t exist when we began working on the project and it’s not something we’d like to feature in this story now that it has unfortunately come along, aha.
Hi, you said that you can play tic-tac-toe or hangman with Cove in Boating if you're sick/scared but I keep getting tic-tac-toe. Am I doing something wrong?
After being sick/scared you have to continue to be upset/unwell. If you calm down and decide to just chill you’ll end up playing tic-tac-toe.
Hi, GB Patch! Since Lee was initially commissioned to only appear in two Steps does this mean she won't appear in the Wedding DLC? I really like her character so it'll be a little weird to not have our cousin at our wedding, aha.
She is gonna be in Step 4/the wedding DLC after all! We’re still working with her creator to make sure it fits with what they wanted.
Is Sunset Bird based on a real place? Asking for a friend, not trying to move there or anything. 👀
It’s based on small beach towns in So-Cal, but not one specific town you could go see in real life, I’m afraid. It’d be nice if it was real, though.
—– —– —– —–
We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog
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cuntycassandra · 3 years ago
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Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship. Pt 2.
We’re back at it, here with the second post in this father-daughter-space-duo series! You guys responded to the first post better then I expected in all honesty! I didn’t think my insights were viewed as so important lmao. I don’t really think much introduction is needed here, the post itself is very self explanatory.
(Pasted paragraph: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!
I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)
(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @treasureofmy-heart 💛)
Cut and Run: S1/E2
We kick off this episode with Hunter walking in on Echo inspecting Omega and Wrecker fast asleep on the floor. His face is very relaxed and he clearly finds it very sweet that her childlike curiosity has tired her out. His line, “ha, well this is a first,” while holding a strong gaze in Omega’s direction, suggests that she’s been exploring for quite some time, unleashing her endearing juvenile inquisition in the batchers presence. Hunter continues to claim she’s curious, using the same lighthearted tone he has always used in her regard, sparing the conversation in the medical wing on Kamino. This continues to confirm his gentle approach and concern towards the young clone.
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When Echo confronts him over the situation at hand, it’s evident that Hunter hasn’t actually thought about what he’s going to do with Omega, yet by the look of quizzicality on his face. I personally took this as a sign that his initial thoughts were always “we’re going to lay low with her, look after her, while keeping everybody else safe.” It’s clear here that Echo has differing ideas that Hunter hadn’t even began to consider, and I think that’s what perplexes him in this moment. He needs to consider everybody.
The kid is up and awake! (Let the havoc commence aha.) Omega’s reaction to sunlight and dirt is definitely one of my favourite developmental moments of hers, it really sets in place that this little girl may have been an intelligent medical assistant, but she lacks experience, and still needs a guiding hand to help her through this new world she’s never endured before. I’d like to point out that it is, in fact, Hunter who stops to watch Omega’s reactions, and his FACE when she’s playing in the dirt! I’ve never seen such a parental smile on a man so stoic! I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot, but he is so endeared by her! She’s a breath of fresh air in Hunter’s very toxically routined life, and I love that for both of them. When they finally reach Cut’s land, Hunter is the one to pull her back, despite the fact she had to run between Echo and Tech to get to him. And upon Suu and Cut’s arrival, I actually didn’t realise that Omega creeps behind Hunter, most likely because these are strangers she doesn’t know and she feels she needs the protection. This confirms a clear bond between them has already began to flesh out.
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There isn’t too much to say about the introduction and inhibitor chip discussion, as Omega spends a decent amount of that time exploring Cut and Suu’s house, but I will just say that it’s a nice touch that she ends up back at Hunter’s side when her part of the conversation is needed, she always seems physically drawn to him. Which brings me to my next point. Upon Shaeeah and Jek’s arrival, Omega once again creeps behind Hunter out of fear, only deciding to approach when formally addressed to do so. *Sigh*, and when Shaeeah pulls Omega out to play, and she halts to ask for Hunter’s permission, which is clearly given through a series of comforting smiles, is a plain indication of a trusted child-parental relationship. I must admit, Hunter’s face is pretty hilarious when everybody practically calls him out on his parental role- it’s just “why are you all staring at me..?” Because you’re acting like a dad, my dude.
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Okay! Down to Cut and Hunter’s discussion. It’s a nice touch that Hunter is the first one outside to watch Omega play, swiftly followed by Cut, who, rightfully so, questions her existence. Although instead of explaining Omega’s origin (and by that I just mean that she’s a medical assistant clone from Kamino), he states that it doesn’t matter what the Kaminoans created her for, because she’s with them now, and to be with them she doesn’t need a purpose, she’s just a kid and should be allowed to act like one. Cut goes ahead to tease him over the ins and outs of raising a child, but to Hunter it was a no-brainer, Kamino wasn’t safe, so she was coming with them, as I’ve said previously, he saw NO negotiations. And as Cut says, “I (you) have to do what’s best for them.” This adds sentiment to the narrative of Hunter’s commanding role within the squad and Omega specifically.
So I’m shifting ahead slightly to the ball incident, and I have a LOT to say about this scene. First of all, it’s clearly evident that Hunter is the first to leave the house, along with Cut and Suu following closely behind. Associating this trio together is purposeful on the animators part in my opinion, they intentionally exclusively had Hunter leave with the other parents in the situation, isolating him specifically with that role in Omega’s life. When he finally reaches her, we see the protective hand come straight out to guard her against the Nexu, a typical trait they’ve established between them.
Now we move on to the confrontation. This is the first time Hunter raises his voice at Omega, and immediately she turns herself away from him, curling into her shoulder and making herself small. Omega is going through a lot of emotions right here, she’s afraid, anxious, and she’s being forced to deal with the fact that for the first time, Hunter is mad at her, for something she didn’t even intend to do wrong. Whereas from Hunter’s perspective, he hasn’t acknowledged she’s already in a bit of a state, and instead feels the need to immediately lecture her for her mistakes….although this lasts all but thirty seconds. Upon Cut’s attempts to diffuse the situation by having him pull Hunter away and reiterating that “she’s (Omegas) not a soldier”, his face immediately softens, he forgot for a moment, but now he realises and instantly the features are set in a regretful frown, he clearly feels awful and misrepresented. Hunter continues to observe Cut’s behaviour as he comforts Omega, who seems to take to the attention like a kicked puppy, lip trembling, eyes shaky, shoulders hunched, and I honestly think as Cut carries her away- is the exact moment Hunter realises he isn’t good enough for Omega. (I’ll further out on this in a moment)
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I only want to briefly touch upon Omega’s gunners nest scene because I don’t think it has too much impact on her relationship with Hunter, however I would like to address the symbolism. I personally see the removal of her headpiece and the addition of her bangs as a new beginning, attaining the contrasting yellow light of Salucemi in comparison to Kamino, where she would’ve been given her jewel. Considering the episode’s outcome, Omega is no longer the tightly held, quivering little girl from Kamino, and instead she brings a slight unruliness to her aura, a little cheeky, definitely her brother’s sister. Still a sweetheart of course, but with a matter of confidence and boisterous behaviour to her. She seems to bounce out of her sadness quite easily here, as she seems suddenly awkward- yet curious- over Tech’s plan later on.
Furthering out into my previous point about Hunter believing Omega deserved much better in comparison to what he could provide: his conversation with Suu. “Protecting them is what we do.” The realisation on his face when she says this, it’s so…raw, something he’s taking time to comprehend. He heeds her words because he knows she and Cut are experienced in this field, they are better suited for Omega than he and the boys are, he believes he isn’t good enough for her, and this is projected when he insists ‘Mega leave with the family of four. Although Suu questions his sincerity, and he does indeed dodge the straightforward answer, this is what Hunter anticipates is best for Omega. He’s putting her needs above his happiness, no matter the heartache.
Moving along slightly, as Omega and Hunter spend a short period of time away from each other during the ship impoundment, I briefly wanted to touch upon the tone of Hunter’s voice when he learns Omega is on route to their position…by herself in a heavily armed spaceport. His eyes widen in a moment of fear, his voice is suddenly strained, he is struck with another raw emotion, something he frankly can’t obtain right now, and it’s let out in a minor threat towards his brothers- “if something happens to her-“ a clearly indication of worry.
This next point absolutely breaks my heart, the poor dears, both of them. Upon Omega’s arrival, Hunter is left to explain his forced proposal that she should leave Salucemi with Cut and Suu. As usual he completes his little ritual of taking her shoulders and crouching to her level, although this time he can’t quite look her in the eyes, a clear sign of regret and guilt, because he doesn’t want to give her away, he knows deep down she belongs with them, but he doesn’t believe he has what it takes to raise and protect her. The way Omega’s eyes crumple really catches me here, she’s being left, again… All this kid has ever known her entire life has either been abandonment, abuse or isolation, and she’s being passed on to strangers by the only people she’s ever been able to trust, and not only is it clearly breaking her heart, but she’s taking it personally, she thinks she’s at fault, much like Hunter does. Her line: “but, I want to stay with you.” compressed with the quivering tone and her precious accent really aides her desperation here, it conveys her in an adequate and very precise way.
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Starting a brief new point to split these up slightly: I bring us to the continuous glances shared between them. Omega consistently looks over her shoulder to Hunter, she doesn’t want her eyes to leave him for one moment, she’s savouring his face, his details, for the very last time. And equally, Hunter is letting go of something he doesn’t want to leave behind, he likes the kid, to the point where his own self depreciation and doubt have been forced ahead in order to protect her, he can’t risk anything at this point. I’d also like to quickly mention how beautifully Omega’s eyes are animated, they intel so much, those precious little doe irises hold such story to them.
Moving on to a little jump cut enduring the batch’s escape and Omega’s return: Hunter’s tone of voice when addressing Wrecker is so pained, and his facials match it perfectly “she’s not com-“ it’s almost as though he’s biting back the urge to sprint headfirst into the gunfire if only to catch up to the little clone before it’s too late.
However, seeing as she’s managed to find her own way back that wouldn’t be exactly necessary. I think it’s a nice point that Hunter is the one to rush to Omega’s aide after she is grabbed by the trooper (flowing a brief flash of concern crossing his face), although Wrecker might’ve been closer, it’s a nice hint to their subtle closer bond. He, once again, crouches to her level although an unnecessary step in the situation, and I see this as another nod to their familiarised dependancy.
Finally, my last point for this episode, is their final conversation within the last few minutes. It’s faint, but the fact that the other batchers are all busying themselves in the cockpit, leaving Omega and Hunter to chat privately, is a very distinct use of separation. It also should be noted that Omega is the one to approach Hunter, this shows a decent level of not only maturity on her part, but trust between them as family, she trusts both him and herself enough to advance on a delicate situation, we even see her hesitate slightly, before pushing forward with a slip of confidence, and that takes a lot of gut from a little kid. She stands her ground, but with compliment. She very much reminds me of Hunter himself in the brig, assertive yet respectful. And speaking of Hunter, his face is just absolutely guilt-ridden when talking to her, because he too made the mistake of attempting to give her away, no matter how much good he thought it would do them both. While Omega is admitting she has a lot to learn in regards to safety and tactility, Hunter is suggesting he has a lot to learn about raising a child and providing the necessary care for her. It’s a brave moment for both of them, to be honest and open, and yet its received extremely well on both ends.
“If this is where you want to be…then this is where you’ll stay.” The admiration in his voice, the admiration in her eyes! They absolutely adore one another, and it melts my heart every time it’s displayed!
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I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode two of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!
As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛
Part One: Aftermath
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