#this is the first thing i've written in months so i'm sorry again for not finishing moving forward but i will get there lol
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wannabanauthor · 3 days ago
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What should happen to BuckTommy in Season 8b
Eddie's thinking about moving to Texas, right?
Well, he has to pack, and he calls his two favorite buff men to help him pack and load all his stuff.
Tommy did not know Buck was going to be there, and vice versa.
They stare awkwardly at each other before noticing that most of Eddie's stuff is already packed.
Cheeky bastard.
He locks them both in his house with the parting, "Figure it the fuck out, then I'll unlock the doors."
Buck and Tommy are more than able to break down the door if necessary, but that wouldn't be a nice thing to do to their best friend's house.
They try to out-wait Eddie, but several hours pass with no communication from him.
Buck is doing his best to not look or talk to Tommy, but all the doors are locked, including the bedrooms, so he's stuck in the living room.
The kitchen doesn't have any baking/cooking ingredients, just prepared food in the fridge.
Buck is without his coping mechanism, and at some point he breaks down crying in the kitchen.
Tommy wants to comfort him, but he knows he's the reason Buck is like this, so he feels stuck and doesn't know what to do.
He hands Buck a tissue and some water, but Buck turns around and ignores him, trying to hide his sobs.
Tommy goes back to the living room and sits on the floor.
"Why?" he hears Buck say.
He gets back up and goes into the kitchen.
"Why what?" Tommy asks.
"Why did you give me a second chance just to break my heart six months later? Why didn't you tell me that you only saw us as a temporary thing? Why did you even give me hope that we could be something more?" Evan asks, in between sobs.
"Evan, I'm so-"
"It's Buck. You don't get to call me Evan anymore."
"I'm sorry."
Buck stops crying and looks at Tommy. There's anger and heartbreak written all over his face.
"Fuck you, you don't get to be sorry," Buck says.
"But I am. I didn't plan any of it. It just happened. You asked me to move in, and I panicked. I've been hurt before, and I knew I couldn't survive it if I moved in and then lost you."
Buck scoffed, but out of irony, not amusement.
Tommy stepped closer to him, and Buck remained where he was, almost as if he was sizing Tommy up.
"You kept putting me on this pedestal, and I knew one day you'd see me for who I am and leave," Tommy says.
"Is that what you think of me? Out of the two of us, you're the one who has left me, twice," Buck points out, and Tommy winces at that.
"You're very impulsive, and we hadn't even broached that topic before. I thought I was okay with you setting the pace, but I guess I wasn't. I thought it was in our best interest to end things now then later when it would hurt more."
Tommy pauses for a moment and looks at Buck. Really looks at him. His own heart breaks when he picks up on the little details of how Buck had been handling the breakup, The flour under his fingernails, his stubble, his longer curls, the bags under his eyes, the fidgeting with what's ever in reach, currently tissues being torn into little bits.
Tommy knows in his heart that he practically broke the man he loves, and it makes him feel even worse. There is still a part of him that wants to run, but he can't run again. Not after seeing Evan like this.
"I'm scared, Evan," Tommy confesses.
Buck's head snaps up in surprise, and he squints his eyes as if he doesn't trust Tommy.
Tommy feels the panic rise within him, but continues his train of thought. "Evan, I love you. But i'm terrified that one day you'll get tired of me and find someone else. It's happened before, and-"
"I'm not him. I'm me. From the first moment we met, I knew that I wanted to be with you. I didn't understand it at first because it felt so different from my past. I mean, you're not the first guy I've had a crush on. At all," Evan says.
Tommy clears his throat uncomfortably. He'd rather not think about Evan's past crushes.
"We spent nearly every free moment we've had together," Evan says. "I thought we were ready to move to the next step."
"I wasn't ready, and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I should have stayed and talked it out, but it felt like the room was closing in on me, and I needed to leave."
"And you left, then ignored me for weeks," Evan says. "I felt like I was going insane and imagined our whole relationship."
Tommy steps into Evan's space and uses two fingers to lift Evan's chin. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Evan. I love you so much, and I'm terrified because it's never felt like this before."
Evan gives an amused chuckle. "I guess it was my turn to see you at your worst."
Tommy cups Evan's cheeks. "I am so sorry, for everything. I feel like I don't deserve a second chance, but I'm still ask-"
Evan cuts him off with a kiss.
Tommy relaxes and kisses him back. It feels like coming home after a long day of work to the arms of his partner. He never wants that feeling to leave.
"I love you too, asshole," Evan whispers against Tommy's lips.
They both chuckle at that.
"Where do we go from here?" Evan asks.
"Couple's counseling. I want us to work. I want us to be forever," Tommy says and gives Evan the tenderest kiss.
"That works," Evan replies between kisses.
They don't stop kissing or holding each other until they're nearly out of breath.
"Finally!" they hear from outside and jump.
Eddie's standing outside with his phone in hand, and on the screen is a live camera feed showing.
"Now, let's get something to eat," Tommy says and kisses Evan again. He was going to kill and thank Eddie, but for now, he's happy just to be with Evan again.
He looks into Evan's eyes and knows that this is it for him. Evan's the one.
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eliotlime · 18 hours ago
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November update post thing
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Drawing of me watching short-form video content without sound vs one where I am lol
If you use short-form video platforms of any kind and would like to help me with my survey you can do so here! Though I'll probably be closing it sometime next week (2nd November 2024 ish) to collate the data for submission.
I've got a metric tonne of deadlines due next week but you know what it's blog update time!!
This is also not going to be scheduled to post because I usually write these on the 29th but I forgot! So it's getting posted now!!
💀 School..
Yeap as I've said I'm in school so that's still in progress, I have completely no idea what I'm doing everyday and as it turns out no time to worry about it either I got deadlines baby!!!
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I mean in theory I understand but it's all a big question mark to me, like i need to be reassured like a nervous dog that I'm doing the right thing and what not
And because of that I'm real sorry about pushing the Abacelsus zine to the back burner, I actually got quite a lot of it done before I had to lock in for school of course.
And though I said I had a lot of sketches I didn't post well they were shittier than I liked them to be so I wanted to make it look nicer. Oh well dems the breaks.
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Another screenie of my school work, they didn't really go into depth about how to specifically design stuff so it's basically me frankenstien-ing stuff I've seen existing and just trying my best lol
I mean.. overall it's funnnn... i guess... I do like projects but everyone in my class are adults with established jobs or goals. Even those who are around my age seem to know what they're aiming for too, feels like I'm an unemployed little sucker fumbling in the dark. Can be humiliating I won't lie, why is learning something new so embarrassing?
Aside from that I'm seeing people be so social online while studying too and it's almost mesmerizing, it's definitely survivor bias but those that can balance it are fascinating to me.
📖Anthology Update
Agh enough of that debbie downer bullshit, I'll tell you what I've also got due next week! That's right!! The drafts for my anthology!
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Screenie of one of the panels I posted onto my ko-fi discord!
I'm not even half way done and it's due on the 6th of December. I'm beyond FUCKED. Anyway I can get it done by then but the school shit is sucking the life out of me through my ears.
☕ Ko-Fi Page
Deadlines aside I've also randomly launched my Ko-fi Membership page! I haven't quite had the time to properly promote it but it's there and I've been updating it every so often
I've got stuff up there already and comics of things that aren't polished (or sfw) enough for me to post. Especially if you're interested in my characters and would like to support me, here's a good hub to check all of it out!
The Ko-fi Discord updates the most frequently, basically every time I draw anything (Which is quite often!). The actual ko-fi gallery is only being updated every week to prevent spam.
Shout out to my one ko-fi member, wormfriend. Right now it's quite funny to have just the one but I definitely would like more so plz join!!! I promise I draw a lot!!!
🌯 Wrapping it up...
That's all I've got for you this month, real grind-y and uneventful but hey some moths are like that. I talked about opening my commissions again in December and I intend to keep that promise but as of yet the first week is not looking too hot haha. I'll consider it on the 7th but whuff it's real packed right now!
I don't have really anything else to say or add that isn't either
a) incredibly negative and self deprecating
or
b) cussing the shit out of disrespectful transphobic anonymous asks I've been getting
so I'm just going to end this hastily written blog update here and get back to work!
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I leave you with this cool down drawing of a honda civic and my attempts at a motorcycle that can also hover in the air.
As always thank you so much for reading and I've been so busy I haven't even had time to work on my annual redraw that's been sitting in my folders gah! If you’d like to support me, here’s my ko-fi page again and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.
If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: [email protected]
XOXO, Stay weird!
-Eliot :)
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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 8 months ago
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'Amas Veritas' Prologue: The Man Who Didn't Exist
A/N: I can't believe I haven't done this yet either. I don't normally like to post anything so early in the writing process, but this prologue is finalized. If you're familiar with Practical Magic, then you understand the meaning behind this prologue. It's just a small tiny taste of what's to come, and posting it so early is a promise to myself I'll see this through.
Summary:
Practical Magic AU. Molly Hooper is a witch with an affinity for the dead, performing post-mortems in the town of Glengarriff, Ireland where she grew up. She comes from a cursed bloodline on her late mother's side, doomed to never find lasting love. When her relationship with James Moriarty goes awry, she calls upon another witch, Mary Morstan, her childhood best friend who is like a sister to her, to help her out of the mess she's in. After faking his death to fool his adversary, James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes attempts to hunt the consulting criminal down after dismantling his network, only to find that the man he is after has disappeared. He returns 'from the grave' to investigate, dragging along his best friend, John Watson, only to find that an enchanting pathologist may be the key to unraveling the mystery.
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irishmammonagenda · 9 months ago
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Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader
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Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.
post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)
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"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."
"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.
"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.
Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.
"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.
"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle
"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.
Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"
"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."
"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."
"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."
You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."
You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."
He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"
"Yeah?"
"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.
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Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.
After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.
In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.
One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.
You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.
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Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk
Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....
No fucking way.
Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.
After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.
You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.
Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.
You grabbed a crayon and began to write.
WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha
"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.
"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."
"Yessir."
You were a master conspiracy theorist.
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In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.
You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.
You know, the usual.
You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.
Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.
You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'
Michael opens the doors.
You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.
Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.
Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.
Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.
"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."
You shake your head.
"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"
You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."
"Are you sure we haven't met before?"
"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.
Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.
Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.
Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.
Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.
Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.
When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.
"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.
"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.
"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.
Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.
L.
You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.
"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."
Oh shit.
"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.
Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"
Shit.
"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.
This was getting awkward.
"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.
"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.
You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.
When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."
Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"
Michael clears his throat awkwardly.
You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."
Michael nods aggressively.
Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.
"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"
At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"
Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.
Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.
"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."
"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.
A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.
'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.
The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.
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You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!
Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.
You almost cackled.
Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.
Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"
You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."
You are such a good liar.
"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"
"Yes."
Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'
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After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.
He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,
"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.
You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"
Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.
"..MC?.."
You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"
You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.
Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.
Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."
You hug him just as tightly.
But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"
"Yes, my dove?"
"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"
"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."
You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."
Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"
"Try again in another century dear."
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The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.
Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"
In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."
A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.
Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.
Time to run away.
As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.
Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)
In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.
Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.
Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)
His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.
He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.
You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.
"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"
Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."
Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"
Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.
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Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.
"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"
You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.
It was on.
Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!
In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.
He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.
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Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.
You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)
Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.
"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.
Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.
You however know what you should do now.
Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.
You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.
It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.
On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)
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After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.
Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.
It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.
When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.
Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.
As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.
You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.
Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.
"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.
"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."
"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.
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After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.
Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.
As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.
You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.
"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.
He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.
Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."
You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.
You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.
"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.
"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.
"Of course."
After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.
A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.
A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.
Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"
Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"
Luke nods and gets up dutifully.
As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.
"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.
"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.
"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.
When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.
Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."
"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....
....for now.
You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.
Your list was now as follows:
Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.
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After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.
Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.
After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.
You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."
Bastard.
Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"
"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."
Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"
"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.
"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."
Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"
"Hmm?"
His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."
You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.
Bastard.
On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.
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Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.
´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.
Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.
You fucking caught them.
No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.
So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.
"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."
From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.
"Of course it's our best one yet!"
You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.
Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.
You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)
Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.
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House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:
it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.
note on their chests just in case.
Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.
Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.
Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally
Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.
As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.
As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.
"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"
"Hi!"
Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.
"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.
"I did. I just came back as an angel."
"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."
You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.
"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."
He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.
"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."
"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.
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House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie
Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.
Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.
Levi it was!
You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.
When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.
After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.
You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.
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House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie
It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!
As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.
It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.
He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.
He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.
"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"
"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.
It was a nice night.
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Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.
Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.
Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.
Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?
You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.
In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)
You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."
"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.
And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.
Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.
Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.
Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.
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This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊
also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious
1K notes · View notes
sahisan · 8 months ago
Text
hollow.
⭒ summary: arlecchino comes to your lands in hope of getting your gnosis non-violently. having hidden feelings for the harbinger, you offer a bargain, which she ends up accepting. it hurts both of you in the end.
⭑ cw: suggestive (no nsfw). angst. a lot of angst. angst no comfort (i warned you). hidden feelings. archon!reader. reader and arle both feel, and i mean feel.
⭒ wc: 3.4k.
⭑ a/n: oh wow. hi. this is like, the first fic i've written that was so long. ended up beta reading it with grammarly for two straight days. also tried improving my writing style, hope it looks like it lol. please like and reblog !!
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"so, lady arlecchino," you started. your gaze remained cold but calm despite the inner hesitation you were feeling while facing the harbinger. "what business do you have in my lands?"
an unexpexted visit of the fatui delegation along with the fourth harbinger visiting her homeland was quite the news to you this morning. having no other choice than to face them, and you knew precisely why she would visit, hearing the news from the archons of other regions from last months.
it scared you, in some way. but you were expecting they would eventually reach you.
arlecchino slowly lowered herself into her own comfortable chair opposite of you before looking at you again. her face became expressionless again.
"It's a pleasure to see you too, miss [name]," she retorted in the same calm manner, despite her words clearly having a mocking undertone somewhere deep down. her eyes studied you as she continued, hearing you not reacting to her words.
you didn't change much from the last time she saw you. she didn't want you to, anyway. the same eyes, hair, accessories, manners... so on. she remembered every little detail.
"miss [name], do you really think you can rule this region on your own for the rest of eternity?" arlecchino suddenly asked, crossing her legs and arms simultaneously as she leaned back in her seat, seemingly making herself very much comfortable.
you blinked in confusion, head tilting the slightest bit. the woman had the dignity to let a corner of her lips raise upward at your reaction. she knew this "start" of the conversation wasn't what you expected.
"...i'm sorry?" you asked, not quite getting the meaning of the question.
"i'm sure you've already guessed what i'm here for. what i'm getting at is..."
arlecchino leaned forward in her chair, her eyes studying you. her face became expressionless once again, but a dark half-smile was painted on it. her voice became slightly threatening, nearly causing goosebumps to run across your skin. she knew your exterior wouldn't be cracked so easily - you're tough; much tougher than many people she's met in her life. but this was a start.
"...what do you want in exchange for your gnosis?" the question was almost a demand. she simply voiced her intentions - get your gnosis, and it wasn't an invitation of any sort.
your eyes narrowed, eyeing arlecchino. what is this? a negotiation? it does sound like one. but is that really it?
"and when did i mention something about giving up my gnosis, lady arlecchino?" you asked calmly.
"don't pretend you don't understand."
arlecchino's voice now held the slightest hint of threat to it, but her face became a little kinder and she continued in a more calm and friendly tone. or she only intended for it to sound friendly. uh, these diplomat things.
"i think we both know perfectly well what I want to hear from you; a clear answer. why don't we come to an agreeable conclusion and you'll give up your gnosis to me? certainly with no harm, you have my promise," she said, her voice getting a more expectant undertone as she spoke the last words, then looked at you in anticipation of the answer.
you leaned back in your seat, unsure of what to make of this whole 'visit'. it was suspicious, you couldn't deny it, but the pull towards the forbidden was finally getting to you, and your bottled-up for centuries-on-end feeling might be getting outside right at this moment.
this is an opportunity you have once in a life, your heart screamed at you. use it.
despite floating somewhere deep in your thoughts, you could easily feel as if arlecchino kept trying to burn a hole in you. and her eyes - especially the shape and color of her pupils - weren't helping either. she did look intimidating like this, but nonetheless, she was willing to wait. at least for now.
you weren't the type to risk, but...
so, an opportunity.
"now, what was that you said about getting something in exchange?" you inquired, exhaling a soft, quiet breath as you got out of your mind. shouldn't have entered it in the first place, you thought. too much of everything.
arlecchino smiled and her eyes gleamed a strange glint you couldn't quite decipher what meant.
"oh, it's good that you're interested," her voice became inviting again, almost soothing, but behind the façade was clearly a not-so-hidden intention. "i wouldn't want to use force against you if this escalated any more."
"of course i wouldn't just take your gnosis from you. i am a woman of honor and deal, miss [name]. if you'll give your gnosis to me i will, of course, give you something in return," she leaned back in her chair and stared straight into your eyes.
"would you like to hear what i would offer you?"
"no," you instantly replied, dismissing the woman. "i already have something i want to ask of you. but first..." you looked around the room, noticing a few fatui soldiers standing here and there. you didn't need extra ears from here anymore. "i need them to leave us alone."
arlecchino's lips curled slightly upward, resembling a smile.
"i see no problem in that. if you're planning on saying something personal, they don't need to witness this conversation."
she glanced at her soldiers and then turned her gaze back to you. the fatui left the room instantly, with no further words said.
"and now to the important part: what can i offer you in exchange for the gnosis, miss [name]?"
you kept silent for at least a minute. you licked your lips, then let your teeth bite down into her lower lip as you thought. arlecchino already seemed to notice one thing that stood out the most - you hesitated.
a deep inhale and the same deep exhale.
"my offer is..." you started slowly, eyes drawn to the table. you simply just couldn't bring yourself to look the woman in the eyes when saying what you were going to say. "we spend the night. together," you said, knowing that she clearly understands what you're talking about.
"and in the morning, i will grant you my gnosis, and we won't have any more business together after that."
silence.
this was precisely what arlecchino was hoping to hear from you.
she raised an eyebrow after a few moments of processing your words, expecting something like this, but still surprised by such a straightforward proposition. however, she quickly regained her composure, leaning back in her seat.
she knew where you were getting with this. she knew you craved this since you both ever saw each other. this was seemingly what you and her needed, but it was so much more complicated than just that.
she also knew that you would hurt so much the next morning, after giving up that gnosis, if she accepted this deal.
for the first time in a while, arlecchino felt torn by the thought of someone being hurt. surprisingly, it's you she was thinking about at that moment.
"my, my... i must admit such a proposal from you is a shock to me. so bold of you to assume that i would accept your deal so easily," she gave you a look, which held the tiniest bit of sympathy and compassion. she had mixed feelings about this.
"however, i'm indeed sure that you mean no harm, especially to me. so, i'll accept your offer on one condition."
she accepted it, immediately flashed in your mind. she accepted it almost instantly. your heart seemed to take a leap, no, a thousand of those as your eyes widened at the realization.
what was going on between the two of you?
you finally found the courage to look up at the woman. hearing no further elaboration, but wanting to hear it right now, you pried further, "that condition being..?"
arlecchino's eyes found yours, as if trying to read you from the outside, and she leaned in closer to the table separating the two of you.
"we keep this a secret," she said, eyes narrowing slightly and voice becoming nearly a whisper. "from the fatui and from everyone else."
"do we have a deal?"
you nodded. "i thought it's only logical that we keep it a secret. so, of course," you continued, eyes focusing on the woman. you didn't want to look away from her for a second, afraid she might disappear. "we have a deal."
a small smile played on arlecchino's lips as she gave a slight nod of satisfaction in response to the fact that you agreed so eagerly. her voice became slightly louder now, as if to not cause any suspicion if someone were to listen from the outside.
"very well. i accept your terms. and i give you my word to keep this... arrangement, a secret from everyone else," she said. her piercing gaze met yours, but the smile on her lips did not disappear.
"where would you like to meet, miss [name]?"
you didn't know how you both made it to your room, but the second the front door was closed and secured with a 'click' of the lock, arlecchino's lips crashed onto yours, as well as you found your back to quickly meet the wall.
there were lips biting one another, hands everywhere, tongues intertwining, your own heartbeat loud in your ears as you kissed, your hand shooting up to grab the back of arlecchino's neck... and you were hoping to forget about the gnosis just for this night. just for the duration of these hours.
just for one night. and then it'll all be over in the morning.
arlecchino's lips felt soft and warm as they pressed against your own. her tongue gently licked your lower lip, teeth tugging at it slightly as her hands roamed all over you. she didn't seem to want to pressure you into something, but she wanted to show you how much she wanted this, too. she then broke the kiss to catch her breath, eyes gleaming with hunger for more, despite the softness in them.
her fingers tangled in your hair as she looked deep into your eyes, "you're even more beautiful than i imagined."
with those words arlecchino pulled you closer, pressing herself against you, as her lips found their way to your neck, kissing her way down to your cleavage, before finding her way back onto your lips.
you felt like you were suffocating; suffocating in arlecchino. in her touch, lips, breath, and in your own sensations of all of the above.
"not here," you managed to whisper out breathily, already panting. you were sure your lips were already red and swollen from all of this. "left door."
arlecchino's lips came back to trailing kisses down your neck, biting softly in some places, but she seemed to obey you. her hands seemed to settle on your waist as she led you to the said left door.
"are you sure?" she whispered in your ear, her lips brushing against the skin there, and you immediately felt shivers crawling down your spine.
"are you sure you want this?"
"are you?" you asked in return, words barely a whisper, brows furrowed a small bit as if you yourself contemplated your choice.
you didn't. not for a single second.
"i am."
with that, arlecchino pulled you closer to herself again and claimed your lips once again. it was a hungry kiss, filled with passion and desire and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of longing.
"i want you," she whispered against your lips before kissing them again. the sound of your heartbeat was so loud that you were sure the woman could almost hear it in her own ears. her hands wandered over to your shoulders, pushing you through the door and into your bedroom, and she pushed the door with her leg to close it.
"all of you... i want all of you," arlecchino murmured, letting her lips detach from yours for a split second, eyes finally meeting yours, seeing all the need and yearning in yours.
she craved this a lot, but she knew you craved it more.
"then have all of me," you whispered in reply, ignoring the fact that the loud pounding of your heart in your ribcage seemed to reach the limit of its loudness, almost drowning out all other sounds. you pulled her along with you, your back falling onto the bed with a soft thud, leaving the woman to settle on your hips and watch you from above.
if arlecchino was sure, then you were also sure. you knew it wasn't how that worked, but you could let yourself forget that just for tonight.
arlecchino seemed like she was about to pounce on you, the hunger and lust in her eyes increasing rapidly as she watched the rise and fall of your chest; the way your breath would increase as she looked in your direction. her eyes wandered over your body, taking in every curve, every muscle, and every movement you made. her own breathing became slightly more ragged and she licked her lips.
"you're so beautiful," came out as a soft whisper, arlecchino's eyes now resembling a newfound tenderness that wasn't there before.
she leaned in closer, warm breath caressing your neck, her scent filling the air around you as her palms settled on your cheeks and jaw, thumbs caressing the skin mindlessly.
"may i?"
gods, she still asked for consent.
you exhaled shakily while realizing that; that she didn't want it to be just a decision in the heat of the moment. it warmed your heart, even if a little bit.
"anything."
arlecchino suddenly felt loved and wanted, and it was almost the same feeling that she always wanted to feel from no one but you.
you were giving yourself up to her for one night, and she was going to make it count.
she kissed you like it was the last kiss of her life. she kissed you deeply, heartfeltly, lovingly, and with such intensity that it was like you two were the only people in the world, and both your and her touch screamed please, don't let me go.
you awoke just as the sun had begun to rise, the light from it shining through the curtains and onto the bed. the woman beside you shifted, too, seemingly being already awake for a little while.
arlecchino had watched you for a little bit while you slept. it was a sight she couldn't tear her eyes from away even if she wanted to. duties and titles long forgotten, this was what she wanted to see every day.
you blinked as the light found your eyes, rubbing them for a few seconds before focusing your gaze on the woman on the other side of the bed. neither of you spoke, for now.
you sat up on the bed, having the blanket cover up your naked, marked, loved body. arlecchino followed your every move, eyes only once wandering down to your back and back up to your face.
your heart hurt at the realization that it was already morning.
the night had ended.
you didn't want it to be over so fast.
looking down at the woman, you averted your eyes, feeling the need to blink away the sting of tears threatening to find their way out. one of your hands moved up, palm facing upwards. your fingers trembled as you exhaled shakily.
you got lost in your thoughts for a few moments. what if arlecchino won't take the gnosis? was that even possible in a situation like this?
certainly not, you must be daydreaming of some kind of hope.
glowing a soft light, floating up and down over your hand was your gnosis.
you stared at it, not blinking, then stared a little more, and then your hand shifted and offered the gnosis to arlecchino.
it was over. as simple as that.
arlecchino's breath hitched as she sat up to have a look at the small, glimmering chess piece. her hand slowly reached out and she took the gnosis from your hand, her fingers closing around it. she examined it closely, as if making sure it was real. to you, she looked satisfied with your deal.
"thank you very much, miss [name]."
you immediately noticed the change in tone. it became professional in just a few moments, leaving you confused.
she then stood up from the bed and started to put on her clothes. it was the sign that the deal was over and that her mission was complete. she didn't even look back at you, you thought. oh.
"well then... i guess my work here is done."
"...i guess it is," you could only reply quietly, eyes rooted to the woman's back as she got dressed.
you noticed the change in the woman's attitude, in her voice, and your heart basically shattered. it was like there were no kisses shared between you two just hours before, no compliments whispered, no intimate connections made. like the night before never existed.
you were just another mission.
of course it would be like this, you thought. you were the first to suggest that you both will never see each other again after this, and you were the one to fall for all of this.
but it still stung.
"you never meant it," you whispered in the end, realizing those words spoken and whispered so intimately were, apparently, just in a haze of situation. how predictable. you fell for that yet again.
arlecchino paused for a moment before she picked up her remaining clothes and turned to face you. her gaze was cold and emotionless, but she hesitated, before her expression purposefully changed into a more serious expression.
she needed to make you feel like she didn't have any feelings for you. it would be better for both of you. no bonds. no strings attached. she never wanted you to pine for her, as she was certainly not the one you needed to have beside her.
an archon and a harbinger. comical.
"i was agitated," arlecchino replied, voice turning back to previous hardness and flatness, zipping up her pants.
she hated saying the next words.
"you were just a means to an end."
pause.
your chest hurt. your eyes stung.
you wished you'd never heard any of this. you weren't ready to hear any of this. but now, these words will surely be engraved into your memory.
you didn't reply, and thus, there was silence. a loud one at that.
arlecchino felt the said silence like no other. she knew she'd achieved what she wanted just by witnessing your reaction.
you didn't stop looking in the direction where the woman was getting ready. neither did you react, just blinking away the tears from her eyes, preventing them from appearing.
your chest suddenly felt hollow, and not because of the gnosis that was no longer there.
arlecchino finished getting dressed quickly, since the silence in the room was getting more and more uncomfortable. it was a sign of your defeat, and she hated the realization of that.
she wanted to say something. wanted to take it back. to hug you. to kiss you again. to make love to you again. she wanted to tell you that she had fallen in love with you and that she wished everything was different.
but she knew that she would only end up hurting you more if she did so.
"i will be taking my leave."
you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood just trying to hold back your tears. your emotions. you weren't allowed to feel, but you felt, and it was suffocating you, dragging you towards the bottom.
"good job," you could only mutter, voice barely a whisper, gaze shifting back to the blanket.
arlecchino felt so much guilt for the words she had said. she knew how much pain those words were causing you, but she couldn't take them back even if she wanted to. the hurt was necessary.
she wanted nothing more than to go over to you, pull you into her arms, comfort you, and whisper how much she loves and cares for you. she wanted to apologize to you; wanted to tell you how sorry she was for hurting you.
but she didn't. she couldn't, because no one could know about the true feelings she had for you.
not even you.
so she just got dressed in silence, the weight of your gnosis in her pocket feeling heavier with every moment that passed. it's not like she could do anything other than that.
you heard arlecchino's hand placing itself on the door handle, and the woman paused momentarily, eyed wandering over to your form on the bed, scenes of the previous night flashing in front of her eyes as she looked at you.
the door clicked open, and she took one step outside your room before speaking her last words to you.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss [name]."
the door closed.
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cuteselle · 4 months ago
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⊱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱.
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𝓢 — enha maknae line saying you remind them of their ex in an argument
maknae line 𖹭 fem reader , angst , cussing , breakup in riki , u don't let it slide w jungwon , not proofread — 991 wc
ac 𖧷 .. when fluff comes yk i gotta double it w angst! this isn't that good because i haven't written it in months.. enjoy!
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YANG JUNGWON ᰋ you and jungwon had been bickering all evening, and the tension in the room was thick. it felt like every little thing was setting the other off, and you were both getting more and more frustrated by the minute. as the argument escalated, jungwon's frustration finally boiled over. "you've been ditching our dates for two weeks, this is the first time i've seen you!" you yelled, not minding the fact that everyone else was only upstairs.
“oh my god yn, you're acting like my ex can you calm down?” he snapped, his words cutting deep. your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, and you felt a rush of anger and hurt. "i can't believe you just said that," you shot back, your voice shaking with emotion. "i'm not going to stand here and take that kind of disrespect."
jungwon looked taken aback by your reaction, but he didn't back down. "well, maybe if you weren't acting like her, i wouldn't have said it," he retorted, his voice defensive. you felt your anger rising, and you knew you needed to get some space before things got even worse. that's when jake had stepped down, listening to the argument and debating when to step in.
"i need you to leave," you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. jungwon looked at you in surprise, but he didn't argue. he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, but before he left, he turned back to you. "yeah okay," he said, his voice softening slightly. "we can talk about this when we've both had a chance to cool off."
you didn't respond as he walked out the door, and you heard the click of the lock as he left and slammed the door. you fell to your knees, feeling exhausted and drained from the argument. everyone quickly rushing downstairs to your side, “aish, don't cry yn.. i'm sure he'll come around, yeah?”
KIM SUNOO ᰋ “really, sunoo? it's not even that big of a deal, he's my friend.” you continued, running your hands through your hair. you've known gyuvin longer than sunoo, so why would be be so mad that you want to hang with your friend every now and then?
“do you not see the way he looks at you? it pisses me off,” he started, you and sunoo had been arguing for at least an hour, and you could feel the tension building between you. you were both getting more and more frustrated, and it felt like every word was just adding fuel to the fire. "you're acting like giselle, she always said he was just a friend." he snapped, his voice filled with frustration.
your heart sank at his words, and you felt a wave of hurt wash over you. giselle was sunoo's ex, and he had always spoken of her in negative terms. to hear him compare you to her was like a knife to the heart. “how could you say that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "you know how much it hurts me to be compared to her.”
sunoo looked away, his jaw clenched. "i'm sorry, my love" he muttered. "i didn't mean it, i swear." but the damage had already been done. you could feel yourself starting to overthink, wondering if sunoo still had feelings for giselle, or if he thought you were just as bad as she was. you knew you needed some space to clear your head.
"i think i need some time alone," you said, your voice still shaking with emotion. "i'm going to go for a walk." you grabbed your jacket and walked out the door, not looking back as you headed down the street. you didn't know how long you would be gone, but you knew you needed to sort through your thoughts before you could face sunoo again.
NISHIMURA RIKI ᰋ you and ni-ki had been arguing for what felt like hours. it had started out as a small disagreement about household chores, but it had quickly spiraled out of control. you were both tired from a long day at work, and your tempers were short. you felt like you were doing more than your fair share of the chores, while ni-ki felt like you were nitpicking and being overly critical.
the more you tried to explain your perspective, the more defensive ni-ki became, and before long, you were both shouting at each other. you knew that this wasn't productive, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from engaging in the argument. “ni-ki it isn't that hard to just clean up around the house, i get you're busy but sometimes you're doing nothing!”
"you're acting just like my ex, can you quit it?" he spat, his words cutting deep. “i clean around, i tell you i'll do things later.” he continued on this rant, but you were still stuck on one thing. you? acting like his ex? he must have just hated you then cause he hated his ex with his heart. your heart sank at his words, and you felt like you had been punched in the gut. you knew how much ni-ki had been hurt by his past relationship, and to hear him compare you to his ex was the ultimate blow.
"if i'm such a terrible girlfriend, then maybe we should just break up," you cut him off, your voice trembling with emotion. "if that's how you feel, then there's no point in continuing this relationship.” you turned around to get your bag, ni-ki's eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately tried to backtrack.
"baby, i didn't mean it like that," he stammered, trying to apologize. "i was just upset, i didn't mean to hurt you.” you scoffed, opening the door to what was your shared apartment. “well you did, i won't be a burden to you anymore.” you took off the promise ring he gave you, and his eyes swelled with tears. “bye riki.”
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© copyrighted by cuteselle. do not repost, ask to translate. comments and reblogs appreciated !
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ckret2 · 4 months ago
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Chapter 62* of the first day of the rest of human Bill Cipher's life—he's back in the Mystery Shack but whether or not he's a prisoner anymore is up in the air, he's proven he knows how to escape, and the Pines have proven they don't want to execute him anymore. For now. How's he gonna celebrate?
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With back pain! That's what you get from half a week of running around in the woods ignoring all your body's pain signals.
But at least it can't get worse.
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This chapter is book compatible but book spoiler free! The fic won't remain spoiler free, but while I figure out how to incorporate the new info in the fic, we're proceeding with pre-written chapters unaltered.
[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]
####
Soos was awakened by Melody as she thrashed and sucked in a gasp like a scream. Groggily, Soos said, "Babe? You okay?"
She rolled over, grabbing for his arms with trembling hands. "Soos—"
"I've got you." He half sat up with a sleepy groan and pulled Melody into his embrace. She pressed her face into his chest with a sigh. As he stroked her hair, her breathing slowly steadied out again.
"M'good," Melody said. "Sorry I woke you."
"Don't worry about it, babe. Always happy to cuddle." He yawned. "Sleep paralysis again?"
"Yeah," Melody sighed.
For as long as Melody could remember, she'd had sleep paralysis nightmares: nights where she'd wake up and find she was unable to move any part of her body but her eyes, and a monster escaped from her worst dreams was lurking in the room. Shadowy figures with glowing eyes, twisted demonic representations of her least favorite teachers, hunched hags with claws extending out of tattered robes—for three years, it had looked like a werewolf-mummy from an old horror movie that terrified her as a child—filling the doorway, or silhouetted in the window, or standing perfectly straight in the corner with neck tilted sideways as though it were broken, or staring hungrily down at her from the ceiling with bulging eyes, or crawling up from the foot of the bed and over her body to grab her throat.
The first time she spent the night with Soos, she'd warned him about her sleep paralysis; but for the past year, she'd never had a nightmare while sleeping in the Mystery Shack. She'd even been completely free of them for several months—something subconsciously reassuring about having her fiancé next to her, probably—until their unwelcome house guest moved in and she'd gone back to sleeping at her aunt's house in town.
And now she was even having them in the shack.
"This is the third time in less than a month," Soos asked. "Same one as usual?"
"Mhm."
"I couldn't protect you this time," Soos said mournfully. "I have failed you as your knight in shining armor... Maybe I need shining armor. Do you think they make like, shiny silver spandex pajamas?"
Melody laughed. "Soos, you goofball." She hugged him tighter. "It's fine. I always get sleep paralysis more when I'm stressed. And the situation in the shack's been... well..."
"Yeah," Soos sighed. "I know." She didn't need to tell him what part of "the situation" was stressing her out.
For the past year, ever since Weirdmageddon—which she'd been just unlucky enough to catch live on a weekend trip to visit Soos—her sleep paralysis demon had looked like Bill Cipher.
She'd told Soos this last fall, and in a panic he'd told her that Bill was a dream-invading demon; and for a moment they'd feared this meant Bill had found a way back. But no—according to Soos, Bill was a real chatterbox, and he was always doing something if he invaded your dreams. The thing Melody saw acted like any of her other nightmares: creepy. Standing on too-long legs at the end of the bed; giving off sickly yellow light she could see through her eyelids; staring at her with one bloodshot eye; crawling onto her chest with claws like gnarled black branches. It was just an unlucky coincidence that the real Bill had been a dream demon, and just an unlucky coincidence that being petrified by an eye-bat felt so much like sleep paralysis.
Ironically, now she had confirmation that her nightmares didn't mean Bill was back—because, when Bill did come back, her nightmares hadn't changed.
"My subconscious just hasn't caught up to the fact that you guys finally executed him," Melody said, getting comfortable to go back to sleep. "The good news is, the real Bill's gone and we never need to worry about that again."
"Oh," Soos said. "Um. By the way. The craziest thing happened at like one in the morning."
####
Bill was creeping upstairs to bed when he heard Melody shout, "He's WHAT?!"
He had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out giggling.
####
Bill was getting better at using his other eyes in his sleep, even when he hadn't chemically connected himself to them. His range wasn't very far yet. From inside the shack, all he could feel was his hoodie, his new necklace, a handful of drawings Mabel had done, and four blankets of his zodiac wheel: two in the kids' room, one in Soos's, and one in the dark.
Around eight in the morning, Mabel was still sleeping comfortably and Dipper was staring at the ceiling worrying; all was right with the world. He only glanced into Soos's room long enough to overhear Melody, "—I'm not mad at you, I'm just mad about the whole situation. I mean, I'll adjust, but still—" before moving on, uninterested in listening to a cutesy couple reassuring each other.
The fourth blanket was in some tight dark container—leather?—but he could hear a muffled voice: "If Bill's staying here on a long term basis, we need to renegotiate... almost everything about his captivity." That was Ford. It was gratifying to know that even when Bill was asleep, the whole household was thinking about him.
"Yeah, you're right," Stan sighed. "We can't just let him keep sleeping on a couple of cushions. We haven't been able to use that couch all summer." There was the sound of a zipper and the lid over the zodiac blanket swung up, revealing Stan standing above.
Ford said, "And trying to get him to sleep in the living room is a lost cause. He says he needs to sleep in a room where he can see the stars."
A guilty look crossed Stan's face. "Right. That's probably it." He pushed the zodiac blanket aside, pulled out a t-shirt, and shut the suitcase again. "We could get—I don't know—an inflatable mattress or something..."
"There's an unused mattress in the basement, isn't there? Maybe we could haul it up." (It wasn't a terribly comfortable mattress. But Bill supposed they only wanted to give him the bare minimum so they could get their precious couch cushions back.)
"I'll ask Soos about it," Stan said. "Well, let's get this over with."
That was Bill's cue to wake up. He'd like to look alert when they came for him. Negotiations ought to go in his favor; he could still threaten suicide if their terms felt too restrictive—or even just threaten to escape, he could do that now if he didn't like their terms!—but they couldn't threaten to kill him anymore. He wondered if he could get phone privileges...
He opened his eyes. He was laying on his left side, the window at his back. He tried to push himself upright.
Sharp pain exploded in the left side of his back. He gasped, collapsing on his side. The pain clawed over his left shoulder, inside his arm, up his neck, across to his right shoulder blade, down nearly to his hips. His entire body tensed around the pain.
He let out a weak, wheezy laugh. (He could feel his ribcage contracting as he exhaled.) That was truly exquisite pain.
All right. He shouldn't be surprised by this. He'd spent four of the last five days tromping through forests and mountains and three of the last five nights getting next to no sleep, including two nights in a thin sleeping bag. The last couple of days, he'd hiked all over creation carrying two fully-loaded backpacks, in a body that had gotten next to no exercise for the past month and probably hadn't been designed for hiking in the first place. And on top of all that, first he'd thought the Axolotl was coming to arrest him and then that the Pines were going to kill him—and human bodies handled emotional stress very poorly. Not to mention whatever the heck had happened when three-fourths of his body had simply stopped working for an hour.
He'd ached for days. He'd simply kept pushing himself through it all, because this stupid weak human body didn't get the luxury of rest when Bill's life and death were on the line. 
Apparently, that was all the pushing it could take. Now he felt like someone had shoved a knife in his back and twisted the muscles up around the blade like twirling a forkful of spaghetti. (Oh, that sounded delicious. One more brilliant idea to implement when he restarted Weirdmageddon: spinal muscle spaghetti. Freshly grated parmesan, maybe a little pesto.)
It was difficult even to breathe—that little motion was enough to make his back muscles squeal in pain. He had to carefully move his hips and right arm in tiny motions to let him roll onto his back while roiling up his pained muscles as little as possible; and then he just as carefully rolled onto his right side, his back to the room. The human body was such a fascinatingly complex interconnected thing, crisscrossed with puppet strings that all tugged each other; no matter what part of his body he moved, somehow it managed to yank on something in his upper left back. He curled his left arm against his chest and squeezed his elbow with his right arm, trying to find a way to tense the rest of his body that reduced the tension on his back.
He heard the door to Mabel and Dipper's room open. For lack of a better plan, he shut his eyes and tried to look natural as they passed him on the way to the stairs. Like heck was he about to let the kids know he was in pain, much less ask them for help. He doubted he was severely injured—he combed through his knowledge of human anatomy—probably just a muscle spasm. It would reduce in a few hours; and then he could make his way downstairs and figure out how to convince someone to get him an ice pack out of the freezer without betraying that anything was wrong. For now, he just had to lay down, try to find a position that didn't stab into his revolting muscles, and wait...
Downstairs, Stan bellowed, "Hey, demon! Get down here!"
Right. What were the odds Bill could make it downstairs and fake that he wasn't in agonizing pain in front of the Pines family? Could he suppress those winces convincingly? He tried to sit up.
And immediately fell to his side again with a gasp. In spite of his breathtakingly self-destructive willpower, he physically couldn't force himself to sit upright. Why not! What was the point?! He didn't mind the pain half as much as his body did, and he thought he should be the one in control here!
Stan hollered, "BILL!"
His voice cracked, "Later!" Ugh. Good thing he'd gotten in his dramatic return last night. He suspected that was the last time he'd look cool for a while.
####
Soos was just emerging from the bedroom when he heard Stan shouting, "I said get down here, Cipher!"
There was a long pause before the reply came from upstairs: "Can't!"
"I WASN'T ASKING!"
"ME NEITHER."
Something was up. Bill always talked a little too hard—not always loud, but hard—as though he were trying to carry on a regular conversation over a strong wind; but Soos thought something about his voice seemed even more forced today. Almost strained.
Soos heard Stan and Ford talking quietly as they headed up the stairs—"...sounds off, do you think he's injured?" "I can't imagine how, if he'd been up this morning we would have heard him banging around..."—and he followed them up.
At the top of the stairs, Stan demanded, "Well? What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me." Bill was curled up on his usual cushion bed. He didn't even turn to look at them. "Just—let me sleep in. Am I not allowed to sleep in? It's not like I have a job." Now that he wasn't straining to shout, his voice sounded even more pained—barely more than a tight whisper.
"All right, fine. Nothing's wrong with you," Ford said. "Then what's wrong with your body?"
Bill chuckled weakly in defeat. "Back's in too much agony to do its job, so I'm giving it the day off."
"Oh, dude," Soos said sympathetically. "Back pain is the worst. One time, I messed up my back after carrying a bunch of boxes between the museum and the attic? Yeah, it was pretty bad for like, a day. I was kinda crying, because it hurt, but also because I had to miss work, and I felt awful about it—but then I remembered the Mystery Shack was closed that day, and I wasn't missing work. So I went to sleep."
Stan and Ford stared expectantly at Soos.
"That's it, that's my whole anecdote."
"Riveting," Bill said flatly. "Did you invite everyone up here to stare at me?" With great difficulty, he pulled his bedsheet up over his head, leaving only a pile of golden curls visible. "Anyway. I'd love to come downstairs—really, I'm famished—buuut my back won't cooperate, and I can't tell you how furious I am about laying on the ground like an idiot at the feet of three of my captors, so if. you. all. would. leave. Please." The "please" came out sounding like the final word of a hex.
Soos winced. Oh, yeah, he supposed being stuck on the floor in front of a bunch of guys you didn't like was pretty embarrassing. He looked toward the stairs and shifted his feet, waiting for the Stans to make a move that direction.
But instead they huddled up to discuss. Stan muttered, "Think he's faking?"
"Why would he?" Soos asked.
Ford murmured, "Soos is right—unless he's that desperate to sleep in, I can't think of a reason he'd lie. He had some... muscular issues after the eclipse—and who knows what he's been up to the last couple of days..." Ford raised his voice, "This isn't the same thing as after the eclipse—?"
"No, just garden variety human back pain," Bill said quickly. "I assume it's garden variety. I've never had back pain before."
"Can you tell what muscles it is?"
"Ugh." Bill let out a shaky sigh. "Pain's... generalized, but... top suspect is the latissimus dorsi. Next guess is the erector spinae group."
"What," Stan said.
Ford nodded like he knew what Bill was talking about. Which he probably did, Soos figured. Doctor and all. "Probably not a severe injury, then. It likely just needs rest—"
Irritably, Bill snapped, "Like I said."
"Great," Stan said. "Then I don't care anymore." He headed downstairs. "Lemme know when the demon can walk again."
Soos and Ford exchanged an awkward look, silently debating whether to follow suite. Ford turned to Bill and cleared his throat. "What do you want for breakfast."
Bill groaned and muttered, "Probably can't use utensils. Whatever, just—bacon and toast and the strongest painkillers in the house."
"All right." Ford headed downstairs.
That struck Soos as inadequate. Trailing after Ford, he said, "Dude, Bill's in so much pain he can't even sit up. Shouldn't we offer to call a doctor or something?"
Ford said, "Knowing Bill, he'd rather die."
Soos considered that. "I'm gonna offer it anyway." He backtracked enough to get his head above the attic floor. "Hey Bill, do you want us to call a doctor or something?"
"I'd rather die."
"Haha, okay! Welp, glad I checked."
But as he headed down to the kitchen, something about the situation still bothered Soos.
Ford was already laying out bacon in a frying pan. "Soos, could you get the painkillers?" he asked. "We should probably give him individual pills rather than the whole bottle. When he got his hands on the cold medicine, he used it to get crossfaded with cider and to drug a wild animal."
Soos winced. Ouch, was that the cold medicine he'd given Bill? (He wondered when Ford had learned the phrase "crossfaded.") 
"Hey... didn't Bill say he was famished?" Soos asked. "Is it kinda weird he's just asking for bacon and toast?"
It took Ford a long moment to answer. He didn't look up from the bacon. "I... suppose he's too proud to ask for anything more complicated."
"Why wait for him to ask, then? Just make him some more stuff anyway?"
Ford shook his head. "He'd be insulted."
Ford had been right about Bill's reactions so far, but— "Okay, fine. Then I'll bring it upstairs and insult him. He'll be insulted and fed. What do you think he'll eat?"
Ford glanced at Soos. Soos thought the look was grateful.
####
Apparently, Bill's age looked a little bit different to everybody. Soos had first found out when Abuelita mentioned that Bill looked like one of those ladies she saw at bingo night who were clearly 60-something, but had had a little too much work done—makeup, facial injections, hair dye. The sort who never really looked younger, but rather just gave off the impression that they were terrified of looking older.
So Soos had asked Mabel, and she said that Bill looked like he was in his mid-20s—about Soos's age, maybe a little older. He'd asked Dipper, and Dipper said he had no idea—to him, Bill never really looked quite convincingly human, more like an alien wearing a human rubber mask—but if he had to take a guess at the age the rubber mask was supposed to portray... like, middle-age-ish? Parent-middle-age-ish? Maybe 40-something? 40-something. Melody had had a hard time as well, but eventually settled on early 30s—the age you imagined a snotty Silicon Valley startup CEO would be.
Which was all very fascinating to Soos.
Because to him, Bill looked eighteen. Exactly eighteen.
At 23, Soos was just reaching the age where 18-year-olds stopped looking like peers and started looking like babies. Eighteen was "you know this is what an adult looks like, but it takes you by surprise almost every time" age. Eighteen was "you wouldn't be surprised to see this face behind a counter working as a barista, but you'd be a little alarmed if you overheard them talking about paying rent" age. Eighteen was "they can be all alone in the world making their own decisions and it's technically okay, but if they are, then someone failed them" age.
To him, Bill looked like somebody who'd been flung callously out into the world before his time—unprepared, overwhelmed, and alone.
Soos knew Bill was older than the whole universe or whatever. He knew that Bill was the guy who'd tried to take over the Earth. But he wasn't that guy now. Look at him. He shouldn't have been worried about imprisonment or world domination or getting executed. He should have been making pocket change working at the mall food court over summer break and playing Dancy Pants Revolution at the arcade with other recent high school grads and making puppy eyes at all the small business owners in town until somebody offered him a minimum-wage full-time job and sneaking into the movie theater on Saturday mornings.
Soos was finding it more and more impossible to see Bill as the enemy, much less as some incomprehensible alien. He had cousins who looked like Bill. Slap a pair of sunglasses over his freaky eyes and try to ignore that his body proportions were just a bit unnatural, and he could blend right into a Ramirez family portrait. Just another post-high-school pre-college kid in the middle of the transition from skinny teen to fat adult that most Ramirez women went through by 30. His neon yellow hair would fit right in beside Reggie's little sister's current neon red dye job.
From the moment Bill temporally poofed into the Mystery Shack on June 1 with a Pony Heist bedsheet toga and an ineffective vengeance plot, he'd been going through the physical and emotional wringer. Soos got it, of course Bill was having a bad time, he was a prisoner because he was a danger to the whole universe. And being human for the first time was probably tough. One time Soos was stuck in a pig's body and that was rough, and it was only for one day and at least Soos had still been a mammal. It was probably inevitable that Bill was having a bad time.
But it bothered Soos, seeing somebody in his house who was so miserable. And it bothered him that no one else seemed very bothered.
He loved the Pines family—he'd reverse-adopted Stan as his dad and he'd give his life for any one of them—but part of him had to wonder whether they'd be more bothered by witnessing the hell Bill was going through if he looked like he could be part of their family.
####
"Hey dawg!" Soos hefted up the tray as he entered the attic. "Breakfast!"
Bill was still buried under his bedsheet. "Stanford couldn't be bothered to come up himself?"
"I wanted to bring it!"
Bill grumbled something inaudible. He'd made no secret of the fact that he disdained Soos, although Soos had no idea why. When a human looked down on Soos, he had a couple guesses; but he didn't know what an alien could judge him for. Was it the British dog man nightmare? Was Bill insulted by Soos's 10th grade geometry grades?
But Bill didn't protest, so Soos scooted around his makeshift bed to set the tray down on the floor in front of him. "Uh... feel better, dude. Hey, you know—if sleeping on the floor is hurting your back, the fold-out sofa in the living room is still totally available. Just, in case you wanna—"
"Not interested," Bill said. "Buzz off, Questiony."
"Okay." He'd offered.
Soos was almost back to the stairs when Bill said, "What is all this stuff?"
"It's breakfast!" The tray included bacon, a toasted sandwich, a drink with one of those straw that bent in the middle so Bill didn't have to sit up all the way up to drink it, a pre-opened chip bag, and a pre-opened pill bottle. (Soos had elected to ignore Ford's advice that they mete out painkillers one pill at a time. If they gave Bill individual pills, he'd have to ask for more when they wore off, and Soos suspected he'd rather choose to suffer.)
"I didn't ask for this."
"Well, I thought you might want some other stuff."
"I don't."
Surprise! Bill was insulted. Soos didn't understand how he could be insulted by some extra food for breakfast—he's still gotten his bacon and toast—but all right, fine, Soos had been warned. "Oh, okay. Just don't eat anything you don't want."
Bill grunted in response.
As Soos started down the stairs, Bill said, "Hey, Questiony. If Mabel asks where I am, just tell her I woke up for breakfast then decided to sleep in."
Aww, he didn't want her to worry. "What about if Dipper asks?"
"Tell him to mind his own business."
"Heh. You got it, dude." Soos headed back to the kitchen—still bothered.
####
Yesterday, Soos and Melody had made plans to take advantage of the Mystery Shack being closed for the day to make breakfast together, the way they used to during the off season. But today, Melody had said that, now that Bill was alive again, she wasn't comfortable eating in the shack, and she'd gone to her aunt's house. She'd said she wasn't mad at Soos, and he believed her—he'd played no part in Bill's continued survival—but still. It kinda felt like she was mad at Soos.
So Soos was eating brunch by himself in the kitchen when Bill gingerly eased himself downstairs—leaning to one side, wincing in pain, one eye squeezed shut, and supporting himself on his broken umbrella; but, mobile again. He ducked into the living room where Stan and Ford were watching TV and, from what Soos had overheard, planning what to do with the rest of their summer. "Okay, I'm here," Bill said. "Negotiations?"
"Hey—no weapons," Stan said. "Hand over the umbrella."
"What! You let me keep it last night."
"Yeah, when it was raining and we were tired. I don't see any rain inside the house."
"Hey, Mr. Pines?" Soos leaned out of the kitchen. "Bill was just using the umbrella to walk? Maybe we could let him keep this one?"
Bill shot Soos a dirty look, face flushed. (What was that for!)
Stan paused, and turned to Ford for a verdict. Ford pressed his lips together, looked away, and muttered, "Well, if he's using it for legitimate purposes."
Bill stared at Ford, brows raised in amazement. "Wait, wait—I'm allowed to have it now?"
"Yes?" Ford said. "I mean—If you're using it to walk, why wouldn't you be?"
"Why wouldn't I—?!" Bill laughed in disbelief. "'No weapons, Bill!' 'No weapons, Bill!' Ev-ry sin-gle time! No canes, no umbrellas, no brooms, no baseball bats, no GOLF CLUBS, no STICKS, no CURTAIN RODS—"
"Oh come on!" Stan spread his hands defensively. "Some of those can obviously be used as weapons—!"
"I wouldn't have needed a baseball bat if you hadn't already taken my cane!"
"You tried to brain Soos with a cane on your first day."
Bill shot another dirty look at Soos.
Soos said apologetically, "That did objectively happen."
Bill rolled his open eye and glowered at Stan again. "What, so because of that I'm not allowed to walk?"
"I," Stan said. "That." He turned to Ford again for help.
Ford said, "If we'd known you needed a cane—"
"I fall down the stairs twice a day!"
"Well," Ford said.
"You use me falling to tell when I'm up in the morning!"
"Ah."
"Did it not occur to you! That this was a problem! That I was trying to solve!"
"I see your point."
Why didn't he just say something, Soos wondered; followed by, what, the guy who refused to explain why he was stuck laying on the floor until we dragged it out of him?
"Well, you've got an umbrella now," Stan said. "Happy?"
"Elated," Bill said sourly. He perched on the armrest of the sofa, visibly wincing as he crossed his legs and found the right position to balance himself. (Soos noted that, since Stan and Ford were already occupying both armchairs and the sofa's seat cushions were in the attic, Bill didn't have any cushioned place to sit. With back pain, no less.) "Let's get this over with."
The crux of the negotiations was that, when Bill and the Pines had initially agreed on the terms of his imprisonment, they'd only been meant to be sufficient enough to last until either the Pines figured out how to kill him or Bill figured out how to escape. Now that both had happened and it looked like Bill would be staying here longer than planned, they supposed they needed something more sustainable.
Bill requested door rights back. Stan and Ford nixed that immediately; they didn't trust him with that kind of freedom.
"Fine, then at least let me go outside. I want fresh air, blue skies, and a social life! I'm an extrovert, I'm losing even more of my mind in here."
Stan and Ford exchanged a look. "Yeah," Stan said grudgingly. "He's more or less in solitary in here. Even for him, that's harsh." (A ghost of a triumphant smirk flickered across Bill's face and disappeared.)
Ford considered that with an unconvinced grimace; but he said, "I suppose... you can make occasional trips outside the shack for... mental health purposes. Under adequate supervision."
"Finally," Bill sighed. "So what's 'adequate' supervision?"
That was where negotiations broke down. Stan and Ford did not think that Mabel alone was adequate supervision for the villainous Bill Cipher, and Wendy was just barely sufficient for Rainbow Club nights but he couldn't be trusted alone with her outside that; Bill, on the other hand, objected strenuously to the suggestion that he could only go outside with somebody who hated and/or distrusted him—which described everyone in the shack except Wendy and Mabel—because that would just make going outside miserable.
They couldn't agree on what kinds of things Bill would be allowed to do, either. They didn't like the idea of him hanging out with Rainbow Club members outside of club meetings, or going with Abuelita to bingo, or visiting a bar in town—all of those would give him too many opportunities to manipulate people with minimal oversight.
"Okay," Bill said irritably, "so are there any social activities I am allowed to participate in! Since it sounds like socialization itself is off limits—!"
Soos decided to make himself scarce before things got any more heated. Maybe he'd go upstairs to retrieve the tray from breakfast.
####
The bacon and drink had been consumed; the bendy straw had been tied in a double loop; the pill bottle was alarmingly light; the sandwich had been picked at, before Bill elected to eat the toast around it and leave the filling behind on the plate; and the potato chip bag had been flung across the room, crushed chips left in its wake, in some sort of protest against receiving unasked-for food. Okay. So Bill was really insulted, then.
Eh, Soos should probably clean up here anyway. He took pride in keeping the Mystery Shack clean, but he hadn't had a chance to thoroughly clean the attic since Bill and the kids moved in for the summer. And it looked like the projectile potato chips weren't the only junk food trash that had accumulated. He saw empty chip bags, candy wrappers, peanut butter jars, jerky packets, cider cans... a lot of cider cans...
He went downstairs, got a broom, a trash bag, and a vacuum, and got to work.
As Soos worked his way across the floor sucking up potato chips, he quietly sang to himself, "Am I cleanin'? Girl, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the attic. 'Are you cleanin'?' Yeah, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the..." He picked up the couch cushions to vacuum under them—he still wondered why Bill preferred to sleep on the cushions rather than the sofa bed downstairs. Maybe he got scared of the dark and liked to sleep by a window? That would make sense. Since Bill used to glow when he was a triangle, he probably wasn't used to the dark. Or maybe he just thought the attic was cooler than the living room.
Soos almost set the cushions back on the ground, noticed bloodstains on one, and froze. He'd seen Bill with a lot of little injuries, but had he seen any cuts that big? The blood didn't look fresh. They'd at least been here long enough for Bill to hide them on the underside of the cushion. Soos looked around wildly for any clues about how or why or when, uneasily decided that since they were dry and Bill wasn't dead he didn't need to worry about it, and pulled out the upholstery attachment to give the stain a halfhearted vacuuming before putting the cushions back in place. What the heck was happening in this attic?
Soos scooped up the mostly yellow and black clothes sitting at the foot of the cushion-bed—they were outside Bill's cardboard box "dresser," he figured that meant they were dirty—wrapped them in Bill's Pony Heist sheet, and tossed the bundle toward the staircase. They flew down to the landing without hitting the stairs. "Yes! Three points! No net!" Soos pumped his fist.
He cleaned the window seat's cushion with the upholstery attachment, picked it up to clean underneath—and the cushion was really heavy on one side. He felt that side of the cushion; there was something hard and brick-ish inside. He caught a flash of white along one edge. The cushion's stuffing was coming out of a tear in the seam. Soos reached inside.
His jaw dropped. "No way. How did he...?"
Soos had pulled out two stubby crayons and the long-lost Journal 4.
####
(If you got this far thank you for taking a break from the fandom-wide riots over the book in order to read my fic. (I'm assuming there's fandom-wide riots, I'm queuing this Monday night so that I don't have to worry about it for the rest of the week.) Anyway, I'd love to hear what y'all think about our first Soos-focused plot arc!
And as promised, now that the book's out, I'll be getting to work crossposting the fic to Ao3 soon-ish. I don't know when yet, since I'm writing to y'all from the past, but soon.)
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aestherians · 2 months ago
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sorry to be a hater of sorts. but you are not an animal, or whatever else other than a human that you happen to identify as.
it is not about wanting. it is about BEING, and if you look in the mirror you’ll realise you’re just a human. it doesn’t make a difference if you struggle with it. get over it. a lot of people have to get over it. you cannot be indulged in a fantasyland 24/7. quite simply, grow up
Huh, I don't think I've gotten one of these asks since 2017...
First things first, starting off a rather hateful and concern-trolling message with "sorry" doesn't alleviate you of any potential harm done. You're trying to upset me. You're rude, you're mean, and you clearly realize it, since you're only willing to say these things anonymously. Don't try to soften your blows by apologizing preemptively. It's bitchy at best and belittling at worst.
I'm gonna take a guess and say this is a copy-pasted message, since you couldn't even be bothered to name my therio-/kintypes. How many other people have you tried to upset with these messages? And for what reason? What's your goal? Is the world not cruel enough already?
But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, since these kinds of messages have become such a rarity, and since I haven't written anything for this blog in months. Consider it an invitation to reach out again some day, once you've mulled things over. I'll get vulnerable with you and lay myself bare, and in return I hope you'll consider seeing me as a person, instead of just a target for your anger.
You say reality, identity, and self-perception ('cause that's what this is; that's what otherkinity is) is about being, not wanting. I say that's an oversimplified worldview.
Who can we be if there's nothing we want? A person without desires is hardly a fully realized person. The identity of the person who wants something is as genuine as the identity of the person who has achieved something - even if they're perceived differently, and their material realities are different. The musician who dreams of going platinum, but who never gets out of dingy bars and self-published mixtapes, will still see a musician when she looks in the mirror - even if others just see a mediocre hobbyist. Even if others compare her to professionals, natural talents, and nepo-babies, whose achievements she can never hope to reach. Should the wanting musician let others define for her what it means to be a musician? Even if her music is bad and she'll never hit it big? She wants to be a musician. She plays because of her desires. She lives her life according to her wants. Does that not make her wants a part of who she is?
To some extent you are what you want. The line between wanting and being is blurry.
I do want to be nonhuman, on some level. I'd gladly give up this life to live as a gnoll. I suppose my desires are fantastical, but no less so than those of the poor musician who dreams of going platinum. Should she stop playing because she'll never achieve her dreams? Should I stop calling myself a gnoll just because I'll never have the body of one? I act out being a gnoll, through my digital persona, my fantasy scenarios, and my art. I do what I can to be a gnoll. I am as much an embodiment of my desires as the mediocre hobbyist musician is.
Have you ever gotten what you wished for?
I collect trading cards as a hobby. After years of searching, I got some of my dreamies and completed parts of my collection. I felt satisfied for a day, but the satisfaction quickly turned into boredom and listlessness. My instincts (be they human or gnoll) crave the hunt more than the kill. I get a greater thrill out of wanting than achieving. I wouldn't be happy without my unachievable desires.
I think, on some level, to want is to be.
And while my wants may be strange, at least they don't involve deliberately trying to hurt other people.
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nicka-nell · 5 months ago
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omg ur taking requests!
can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)
Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭
Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.
Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.
Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹
And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚
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Regretting their actions
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Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader
Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)
Part 1 | Part 2 (End)
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tw: mention of break-up
You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.
The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”
More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”
You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.
And then it happened…
You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...
“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.
Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 
>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<
It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.
Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.
Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.
You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”
Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.
Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.
Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.
Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.
He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.
You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...
As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”
Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.
Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.
But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.
Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.
You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.
Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.
So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 
But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.
And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.
Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…
Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…
Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 
Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 
That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?
But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.
“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.
But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.
“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.
“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.
“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.
”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.
“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.
“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.
You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.
“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”
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tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood
You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.
But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.
You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.
At least for the first few years.
The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.
If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.
Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.
More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”
And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.
You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.
Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.
You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.
“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.
“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.
“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.
Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.
Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.
His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.
Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.
He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.
He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.
“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”
It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.
You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.
What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.
He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.
In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.
When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 
“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.
“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.
“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.
“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”
A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.
Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.
He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.
Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 
Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.
“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.
“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.
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tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 
Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.
You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.
You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 
With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.
That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.
The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.
A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?
He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.
From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.
Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.
Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.
You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.
You thought…
When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.
Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 
“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 
His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 
The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.
Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.
“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.
But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.
Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.
So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.
He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.
Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.
“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.
Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.
He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.
Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.
But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.
“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.
“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.
Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.
Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.
Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.
You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.
He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.
This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.
His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.
Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.
“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.
You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.
Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.
“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.
I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.
Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.
I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”
You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.
There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?
You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.
Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.
“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.
“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”
Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 
“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.
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celestie0 · 7 days ago
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hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)
i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now
although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.
i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense
as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.
anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.
sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.
anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!
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ppssession · 18 days ago
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ของฝากจากการเดินทาง
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Lathan just checked in to a hotel. This is a long holiday trip.
He chose to travel to the countryside of an Asian country. Luckily, there was a hotel nearby and it was close to the places he was going to visit. After checking in, Lathan set off.
He walked around the countryside to explore the beautiful nature. As time passed, he started to feel hungry. He looked for a restaurant and found an old shop.
When he entered the shop, he met an old man who looked harmless. The old man asked in a husky voice, “What would you like to eat, customer?”
Lathan was slightly startled, he politely replied, “Any local food.” After receiving the answer, the old man disappeared into the back of the shop. Lathan sat at the table for a while, the old man came out from the back of the shop with soup in his hand.
When the soup plate was in front of him, Athan took the first bite and put it in his mouth. He found the delicious taste and started to eat the soup with great relish. The whole scene was in the old man's sight, and the old man didn't blink even once.
เมื่ออาธานกินซุปเสร็จ เขากำลังจะจ่ายเงินค่าอาหาร แต่ชายชราเจ้าของร้านก็หยุดเขา
Old Man: No need to pay, I'll pay for you. Lathan thanked him for his kindness and walked away, with the old man smiling at him from behind.
When Lathan returned to the hotel, he immediately fell asleep on the soft bed.
In the middle of the night, Lathan felt a heat all over his body, as if something was burning him.
Lathan's body twitched and his eyes rolled back and forth, but everything slowly calmed down and Lathan fell asleep again.
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In the morning, Lethan woke up and picked up his phone to check his face. Oh, it was better than I thought.
This body is mine now. I'm tired of being a boring old man in the countryside. Now the old man has possessed Lathan's body.
With a magical herb that has the power to make those who eat the first tree become possessed by those who eat the second tree.
Ahh, this young man's body is so good. I feel more life energy than an old person.
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The old man wanted to leave this crazy place. The old man in Lathan's body packed his things and headed back to Australia. He looked at Lathan's ID card. Mr. Lathan's name is not bad. Here's my name.
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Months later, the new Lathan is enjoying life.
“Who should I have fun with today? Thank you for coming to me to give me your body, Lathan,” he said, running his hand over his erect penis in his pants.
Okay, this is the first non-Asian guy I've written lol. Hope you like it. This was a small request from my followers and friends, but I'm sorry, this was supposed to be posted an hour ago but I got caught up in other things. Hope you like it.
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impulsivebrainrot · 20 days ago
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I'm slowly losing it istg.... HAKJSDFH
Anyway, this sem has been the far most insane one I've had yet .___. Trying my damn best to keep my grades up because stuff ain't looking pretty so far ;-;
Hell no have I abandoned this fic >:'>> Tho if worse comes to worst, I might just update during the Christmas break T-T Chapter 17 is halfway written (got chopped off from progress coz school started that time ;-;) And y'all will know it's updated once you see the cover art here, along with some format cleanups both here and on ao3 ;w;
In the meantime, have some concept art, these are very much beta designs but yah XD They'll somewhat appear in the next chapter :3
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Won't say who's who just yet, but they were first mentioned in Chapter 9: "Cleaning Up Messes" :>
AGAIN SO SORRY IT'S BEEN MONTHS, EVERY WEEK IS JUST ABSOLUTE MADNESS ;-;;;;;
Stay tuned! ;w;
Also some random content...
First time EVER trying to make an animatic. Not part of the fic, just an AU where King and Papa Titan actually meet!! ;w; Don't really know how to explain it myself, I was just taking a break and seeing if I could rotate characters and whatever lmao (and it's too based on Gigi's animatic coz I didn't storyboard aksjdfhkj). But the big rip on PT's shirt is meant to be caused by Belos' mold or sumthn idk XD
Might change a lot of things when the official song drops, but the fic is still the priority ;w;
SEE Y'ALL! *goes back to suffering*
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diagonal-queen · 8 months ago
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HELLO!! i keep requesting them sotty im obsessed but what about hunting dogs with a s/o who has a child😅😅i got silly again
Hunting Dogs with your child
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♡ pairing: Fukuchi Ouchi, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Teruko Okura (platonic), Tachihara Michizou x gn!Reader
♡ synopsis: How do these goofballs fare as stepdads? (or, in Teruko's case, fun auntie?)
♡ cw: Swearing, unofficial stepfathering, unrealistically good stepfathering, reader's ex situation is not established but it's assumed that their baby momma/daddy is not in the picture (Tachihara), mentions of violence
note: I just haven't written anything in ages, and for that I apologise. Wow, being in university is time consuming! I've had block for months and it's been an absolute pain in the arse but I'm back babey! Keep your requests coming anon- I am the Hunting Dogs whisperer and I will write them till I die. Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x
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Fukuchi:
My dude is so so so enthusiastic. You mean to tell him that he gets a beautiful loving partner AND a new little guy to hang out with?? Sign him tf up
This man buys your kid so many presents it's genuinely concerning. Your child is spoilt to hell and back by Fukuchi. You need to discourage him from this behaviour STAT
He constantly uses dad words like 'buddy' and 'pal' and 'kiddo' to refer to your kid and they eventually start responding to these nicknames lol
He would totally also do dad stances and just embrace the fatherly aura that is slowly overtaking him day by day (bro starts falling asleep on the couch while the game's on at 9pm)
He's actually surprisingly gentle with your child. If they cry he'll pick them up and comfort them very well. He's like a whole different person when your kid is scared or sad- it's the cutest thing ever
If your child ever gets him a Fathers' Day present he'll probably cry like old man tears of joy. In fact if your child ever does anything nice for him he'll be incredibly touched. Kinda reminds him what he's doing his job for :')
Tells your child great exaggerated (CHILD FRIENDLY) stories about his heroic achievements as a soldier before bed. It's genuinely super cute you guys
If the kid ever runs up to him in excitement when he arrives home in the evening he returns the energy and is like 'omg there they are! that's my kiddo! how have you been??' and picks them up and AUGH they're so cute
Just....🥺🥺
Jouno:
Your child is probably scared of him at first. Within their first meeting he probably makes them cry.
Sorry y'all 😭 but he doesn't exactly come off as much of a teddy bear...and nor does he really act like one with anyone else other than you in private
Jouno just isn't good with kids. Not in the sense that he's scared of them but that he doesn't really know how to interact with them without being intimidating or otherwise just detached
But he really loves you, and he wants to be a good parental figure to your kid, so he tries to warm them up to him by getting them a gift. That probably helps- he might not know much about kids but he's right to assume that they fucking love receiving gifts
Whatever your child's hobbies/interests are, Jouno genuinely does try to connect with them over it, and after a while it does work.
Soon enough your child and Jouno are inseparable and your child is spewing sadistic military rhetoric and oh dear god you've made a terrible mistake introducing the two of them
Yeah, Jouno probably teaches your kid all KINDS of horrible things. He will tell your child stories about times he's tortured suspects, or slaughtered gangs, and just stuff that is not family friendly. You have to nip that behaviour in the bud or else...
He's generally pretty good at taking care of your child, but like, if your kid cried because they were scared there was a monster under the bed, Jouno would probably be like "Yeah. There is. Good luck." and then turn off the lights and leave 💀
Just give him time. He'll learn how to be an emotionally available parent at SOME point
Tecchou:
He's not the step dad. He's the dad that stepped up
Tecchou is definitely very aloof and awkward around your child- like, he knows how to interact with you, but children are different. Children are frightening. And they are his biggest fear maybe
In spite of this, he is fiercely protective of your kid. He will make sure that child is as safe and calm as possible at all times, and he certainly prefers to show that he cares through actions rather than words.
He usually wouldn't initiate physical contact with your child but if they hugged him he would hug back, if they gave him a hi-five he would do it back, etc etc. he will never let your kid down
If your child likes make belief, you can bet you'd walk into a room and find your kid all dressed up, off their rocker in full theatre mode, while Tecchou is sitting on the floor, also dressed up, but looking more depressed than ever before
Save him from your baby. They are taking YEARS off his life
He probably accidentally sends your kid to hospital at some point because he cooked for them. Damnit Tecchou, how don't you realise that a child's stomach wouldn't be able to handle a combination of chocolate and beef
It's okay though, he does learn from this. Plus, he takes care of your child and buys them presents and hangs out with them until they're better <3
He might not join your child in the ball pit, but he would watch them swim around in there with the softest, faintest, most affectionate smile on his face. And that is all that matters folks
Teruko (platonic):
The funnest, meanest, coolest auntie ever
Teruko will lead your child down a dreadful path. Limit their visits to holidays and birthdays for your own sake and the sake of your young one
She's really more than happy to negatively influence look after your child if you need her to though, and they love her because she's super chill and lets them get away with all kinds of things (that aren't violent crimes against humanity)
Your parent says one cookie after dinner? Screw it, have six. I won't tell if you won't. - Teruko, probably
She uses her ability to entertain your kid sometimes- usually she'll decrease her age so she can join them in things like building pillow forts and playing on jungle gyms
I'm just picturing them playing at the park and some concerned parent coming up to them asking where their guardian is and Teruko just fucking transforms into a grown woman on the spot and goes 'WHO'S ASKING' 😭
Teruko is a super cool fun aunt. But she is very wise, and she really will give your kid good life advice on occasion.
She'll also cheer them up when they're feeling down, and if they're feeling scared she helps them step out of their comfort zones and confront their fears (in a safe way!!)
If your kid is like, getting picked on at school or something, Teruko will nag you to phone their school about it. If you don't, she does. If they don't do anything about it, she does. Bottom line is NOBODY fucks with your kid when Teruko is around
I guess technically she really is scary dog privilege lmao
Tachihara:
Help he's so nervous at first? Tachihara this is a child, not a wise sage- you can be normal around them
He just wants to make a good impression on the child okay he's doing his best
But (obviously) your kid immediately loves him, and thinks he's the coolest guy ever, and wants to hang out with him all the time
Tachihara has a bit of a concern that the kid will think that he's trying to replace their other parent, which is fair, but it's unfounded because your child absolutely adores him and does not care about that at all
If your child ever calls him 'Dad' watch his soul fucking transcend to a new plane, he's so surprised and honoured that this beautiful person's child would consider him their parent
Your kid has Tachihara wrapped around their tiny finger. He will oblige them with anything- if you've got a toddler who likes uppies and piggybacks, say your prayers for Tachihara's upper arm and back muscles because he will carry them for hours
You really need him to stop leaving weaponry around the house, though- the absolute HEART ATTACK you had when you saw your precious baby carrying around an unloaded pistol
Also, Tachihara, babe, STOP SWEARING SO MUCH AROUND THE BABY. I CAN'T HAVE MY KID SAYING 'FUCK' TO STRANGERS - you, probably
Doesn't really ever talk about his job(s) with your kid, all they know is that he 'kills bad guys', and they think that's cool as fuck
He's not perfect, sure. But he is trying so hard to be The Perfect Parent™ and, more importantly, he loves your child to bits
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taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen
of course, thank you to anon for this req!
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jamil-s-wifey · 1 year ago
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If you're taking any scenario request. Maybe could I request funny/silly one where Leona and his S/O are married and live in the Royal Palace. Leona's S/O has gotten lost somehow in their own home and when found their response is "This place is too damn big I'm sorry!"
You have NO idea how much I love these types of fics! Wholesome crackheadedness at its finest✨ We love a spouse with 0 orientation skills. (I'd know, I get lost in supermarkets) This was ONE OF THE FUNNIEST THINGS I've EVER written. I hope you enjoy!
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"What the actual fuck."
A turn here. A turn there.
Oh, would you look at that - the exact same vase you passed 5 minutes ago. But was that really the same vase? Or was it its evil twin, trying to further confuse you, only for you to get lost even more and die of starvation, eventually BECOMING ONE WITH THE PALACE...
God, whoever built this palace should have their head on a stake. Haha, that sounded a lot like the Red Queen of Hearts. Perhaps Riddle was rubbing off on you. You two did text occasionally since graduating from NRC.
Speaking of graduation, you married Leona. (yay!) And it's not like you weren't happy. Life was relatively peaceful. You two moved back to the palace. Arrangements had begun for you two to take over a certain part of Sunset Savannah, as something akin to a *Peerage. (They had their own name for it, you are currently far too annoyed to remember.) A lot of (semi-forced) communication set the road to reconciliation between the two brothers. (Admittedly a very long road. A road that puts Gulliver's travels to shame.) The Royal Family™️ accepted you with open hearts. (albeit a tad wary at first)
Really there was only one major problem.
The ROYAL PALACE IS LIKE A GODDAMN LABYRINTH. And that's rich, given your history of painting the white roses with Ace and Deuce in Heartsabyul's maze. So here you are, lost.
Scratch that.
Lost: again.
And all you wanted to do was find Cheka's room. You had a gift for the little cub.
"An architectural masterpiece, my ass. This is an architectural disaster. A disaster with a capital D. D for Vitamin D - what I won't be getting, because I'm trapped within these walls, where the SUN CAN'T REACH ME-"
Okay. Calm down. It's not that bad, sure there isn't a soul in sight, but you're bound to stumble upon somebody at some point, right? There had to be servants, or guards, or somebody! UNLESS! This is all an elaborate plan to get rid of you.
Aha! That must be it. The Royal Family wants you dead and they intend to make it seem like an accident! But Leona wouldn't allow that, right? He loves you! Dearly! You're his spouse, his one and only! Ah, cruel fate.
Is it just you...or are these walls moving in on each other. So this IS an assassination attempt! And you presented yourself on a silver platter. Good job, s/o. Splendid work. A royal for a few months and you're already about to be assassinated. Your name shall remain the book of "Dumbest ways to die." Goodbye cruel world-
"S/o."
Leona's voice rang through the empty hallway, "What are you doing out here."
Ah! And so tragedy was avoided once more!
"Leona, my LOVE! Thank God."
"Did you just- get lost in the palace... again?", his eyes read annoyance but his tone was teasing.
"It's not MY fault this place is so damn big, what do you need all this space for anyways? Indoor badminton? Hide and Seek or Die?"
"Definitely that last one. That's how we get rid of our enemies."
"AHA! I knew it! So this IS an assassination attempt!"
He simply rolled his eyes, pulling you towards him to wrap an arm around your waist and kiss you on the forehead.
"This isn't an assassination attempt. You did this yourself. It's called idiocy."
"You should build a better palace."
"What I should do is put a collar on you. With a tracking device on it. Like a pet."
"Oh, Leona~ Who knew you were into that~"
"Next time I'm leaving you here to rot."
"Then I'll haunt you to Hell and back."
He smirked, pinching your cheek as you were both making your way far from the cursed looping corridor.
"At least you won't be able to get lost."
"I told you, it's not my fault."
"Nah, of course not. The Palace is just cursed."
"EVIDENTLY."
You both knew this isn't the last time you'll be getting lost. And Leona was seriously considering the tracking device.
Perhaps he'd already ordered it too.
You were about to find out.
*Peerage - collective noun for titles like Duke, Duchess, Count, Earl etc. Comes from "Peers of the Realm" where one could hold one or more of these titles. It differs from monarchy to monarchy. THAT'S YOUR WORD FOR THE DAY FOLKS!
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facefullofsadness · 10 months ago
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HII SORRY IDK IF REQS R ON OR OFF BUT CAN I REQ GUITARIST DOM NEIGHBOUR YUNJIN X NERD SUB Y/N (FEM)
first of all, yes reqs are open dw. second, ANON IM OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT GRRR FOAMING AT THE MOUTH
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content - dom guitarist neighbor!yunjin x nerd sub!y/n (written like "studious nerd" not "loser nerd" like in the sakura fic), smut (rough sex, fingering, choking, degradation, mommy kink, edging)
wc - 1652
a/n - ffos stop writing rockstar!yunjin smut challenge (difficulty: impossible). and when I do a rockstar!au series w a bunch of diff idols just fucking y/n brainless, then what? bc look at the material, rockstar winter, giselle, hanni, yunjin, wendy, phew, I'm dizzy.
all you want to do is study or relax, but yunjin has her own agenda.
I imagine you're some kind of stem or pre-med major where ur head is always buried in books, trying to study and memorize and re-memorize and review all this fucking material. ur always preoccupied with your studies that when u finally get that moment to rest, you really bask in the peace of silence after a long day.
but of course, you can never have good things. bc as soon as you lay back on your couch, ur favorite snack next to you and putting your comfort show on the tv, you hear music blasting from your neighbor. the melody u conclude being an arctic monkeys song (taste jennifer! listen to do I wanna know for immersion :)) which you would enjoy on any other day, if not for the fact that you were trying to relax and NOT feel the vibrations of the electric guitar from next door. that being said, this neighbor had been practicing music EVERY DAY for the past few weeks.
it drove u insane. you have never tried to confront ur neighbor bc you hoped they would stop on their own (maybe due to social anxiety too but that's neither here nor there), but after WEEKS of this perpetual migraine, you had no choice.
building up the courage to walk over to their door and proceeding to practically pound on it, music louder now that you were outside their apartment. you were fully prepared to go ape-shit on the menace that had been tormenting your serenity for so long. but you didn't prepare for them to be hot?!
the music stopping after 3 rounds of your aggressive knocking and finally a red-haired sexy ass woman swung open the door fully, guitar slung on her back and tatted arms crossed, wearing black tattered clothes, the woman towering over you as she leaned forward, looking up at her eyebrow and septum piercings.
you gulped nervously, not expecting such a sight, the ginger raising an eyebrow at you curiously.
"what do you want?" she'd ask annoyedly.
her tone pissed you off and snapped u out of your trance, "for you to lower your music or stop playing."
bold, she thought.
"why should I?" the woman leaned against her door frame, a smirk tugging at her lips.
you huff out frustratingly, "because you've been blasting your music for the past few weeks and I'm sick and tired of it, it gives me a headache and you have no respect."
she scoffs, "aw, is my princess missing out on her beauty sleep?"
you close ur eyes and sigh, regaining urself so you wouldn't blow up, then looking up at the girl's eyes, "can you PLEASE lower the music at least?"
the ginger uncrosses her arms and leans forward again, one hand on the door frame and another gesturing at you, "do I get anything in return for being such a good girl for you?"
u feel chills go down your spine at her words and your cheeks heat up. the sound of her deep chuckle makes you look away.
"fuck you're cute, what's your name?" she tilts her head to the side.
"y-y/n."
"I've never seen you around y/n. you're telling me I've been living next to an absolute babe for the past few months and I didn't know? can't be having that."
your eyes dart anywhere else before you clear your throat, "anyway, thank you, I'll get going now."
"ah, ah, ah, not so fast y/n-ie. I haven't even told you my name yet!" you feel a hand snatch your wrist and pull you back, your body falling into hers.
you look up at the red-haired neighbor, "it's yunjin, jennifer to friends, but you can moan mommy to me."
you scream internally and feel your heartbeat racing. it'd be so fucking cringe to hear it if anyone else said it, but something about the way jen held you and looked at you like her next meal made your lower stomach feel on fire.
"do you wanna know how talented guitarists are with their fingers?" her naughty half-lidded gaze trailed the features of your face, looking so innocent to her, with your large black framed glasses and wide eyes.
"you're disgusting and a pervert miss jennifer," you say, trying to cover up your attraction to her and the situation (failing btw).
you try to pull away from her grasp, her strong hands gripping your arms tighter and holding you close, her face coming closer to yours, "oh please, don't lie and tell me you don't wanna fuck me."
"you really don't have any respect do you?"
"and where was your respect? came pounding on my door, demanding whatever bullshit you just said, didn't even ask me for my name miss neighbor!" a cocky smile spreading on yunjin's face.
"well I apologize but it should be common sense to not blast your music for the entire 5th floor to hear," you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in her hold.
"you look even better when you're angry, maybe I should piss you off some more."
god she pissed you off so much, it's unfortunate the girl was really fucking hot.
"I'm not pissed," you lied.
"no? what are you then? horny?" the audacity really.
you roll your eyes, "can I go?"
jen gives you an annoyingly smug expression and shakes her head left to right before pulling you into her place, shutting the door behind you, and pinning you to it.
"you may not be horny, which I don't believe, but I am now."
her grip leaves your arms and trails your sides. you let out a heavy sigh but try to hold your composure.
"hm? you're not pushing me away? does that mean I'm right?"
she chuckles lowly next to your ear, her greedy hands slipping under your sweatshirt and rubbing the skin.
"sh-shut up," you mumble, turning your head away from her face in your neck, her mouth leaving hot breaths and wet kisses across it.
her calloused fingertips tap against your waist and travel higher, "no bra? was your intention to get fucked so I could change my mind?"
she's so vulgar, like it gives you the ick, but she feels so good, you ignore the bullshit spilling from her lips.
she feels up your stomach and places each hand on your boobs, kneading them eagerly and breathing hard on your neck. you bite your lip to prevent any noise from escaping your mouth. you knew it was wrong, you knew it was dirty, but you knew it felt too good to wanna stop.
"c'mon princess, let it out for me," yunjin would whisper against your skin, her thumbs circling your hard nipples.
your hands clutch her bare shoulders as you feel her smile against your jaw. you struggle hard to hold back a whine as she pushes you into the door using her warm body.
"I have nothing to let out for you," lying again.
"I guess I just have to tear it out from you then," the guitarist says before taking her hands out from under your sweatshirt and grabbing you by the thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to her room.
your body falls against the plush mattress and you watch as the woman slings her guitar off her shoulders, crawling on the bed towards you.
"you may be able to resist how good it feels now, but not after I have my way with you... I won't be the one making so much noise after all."
oh and she truly kept her word.
yunjin's right hand fingers were plunged deep inside your pussy, thrusting in and out at unfathomable speed, while her left hand fingers were in your mouth, shoving them down your throat and making you gag.
your shorts and panties were somewhere lost in her room and if your vision wasn't blurred with tears, you swear your clothes hang from one of the guitars she had displayed on the wall. you sat with your legs wide open on jen's lap, your back against the headboard for stability, tongue sticking out so her fingers can reach deeper into your mouth.
all you could make out were the choking noises coming from your throat and muffled moaning conjoined with it. your cunt was on fire due to the pace at which her digits were ramming into you. your eyes were rolled back and your thighs trembled.
"you sick fuck, you're really enjoying this you know? I know you are, I know you love how rough I'm treating you. who would've known some lowly nerd like you would be into such freaky shit."
she'd pull the fingers in your throat out which caused you to release a deep groan, but return her hand to your neck, squeezing and pinning you against the headboard.
"m-mommy..." you'd desperately whimper out.
a sick chuckle leaves her throat hearing you call her the title she mentioned earlier.
"you may be a whore but you're good at following directions, aren't you princess?" she sinisterly smiles at your fucked out expression, pulling her fingers all the way out to slam them in again, using four digits to plunge into your gushing cunt.
your vision blurs completely as you feel your high coming quick. your back arches off of the wall and your body melts into yunjin's hold.
"cumming already? so sensitive, I don't wanna end it yet," she immediately retracts her hand from your pulsing core.
you whine desperately at the loss of contact and jennifer's grip on your neck tightens.
"listen here little slut, I barely even started. you're going to hold out until I have my way with you, got it?"
let's just say you're not the neighbor making the noise complaints in the next few hours (days? weeks? yunjin realllyyyy liked you).
a/n - guitarists' finger dexterity is no joke (I play guitar so someone plsss hmu :.) aka huh yunjin hit my line im begging you)
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fioiswriting · 4 months ago
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The sea and the fire
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“Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.” - R.F Kuang
Summary : when you're married to your childhood sweetheart who becomes your enemy and you get lost in the terrible maze of politics.
[previous chapter] [masterlist]
Rating : None for now, will be explicit 18+ later MDNI
Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader (There will be some Cregan Stark x Reader later)
TW :  none for now except not proofread. TW will be added as the story progresses.
Words count : 4408
AN : Hi everyone!! I hope you're all doing well. So, MONTHS later, I've finally decided to post chapter 2. Sorry for the wait.
[About this story This fanfiction is inspired by an RP I started with my girlfriend (@irmawrites, go check her work) in early 2023, which is still ongoing. My girlfriend writes for her OC (who is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent) as well as for Aemond and Cregan, while I write for my OC (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) as well as for Aegon and Cole mostly. This fanfiction doesn't cover exactly the same events, I've changed some things, added some others and omitted some. But it follows the main storyline. The character of Irma is a nod to my girlfriend and is based on another of her OCs (Alicent's niece). I'm keen to turn this story into fanfiction and I hope you'll like it! ❤️ I know there's a ton of fanfiction out there based on the Aemond x Rhaenyra's daughter trope. If you don't like it, if you feel uncomfortable, or if you've read too much of it, I'd suggest you read another fanfiction written by one of the many talented authors on this platform ❤️ The story will unfold in several arcs, with the first arc building up the relationship between the reader and Aemond. The tone is therefore lighter. The following arcs (which I can't wait to get to!!) will gradually introduce a lot more angst (my favourite thing to write). The tone will be radically different. Overall, the fanfiction will sometimes be based on elements of the book, and sometimes on the show, with my own interpretations. Please bear in mind that my dialogue will sound very "modern" because I struggle to write medieval dialogue in English, as it's not my mother tongue.]
Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 
After all that talk, ENJOY <3
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Chapter 2 : Familiarity
There was a sense of renewed familiarity. 
You had regained your childhood bedroom and with it your landmarks. Of course, you still missed Dragonstone. And that could seem strange to some - Dragonstone was just a damp cave, a pile of stones perched on a rock. You were in King's Landing, now. You lived in opulence, in a royal comfort unmatched by the perch above the sea where you had spent most of your youth. 
But Dragonstone had a charm you couldn't find in King's Landing. Perhaps it was the stillness of the library where you spent all your time, lost among the scrolls of parchment and the thick tomes, or perhaps it was the sound of the crashing waves that rocked you on stormy nights, you weren't sure.
But somehow a sense of familiarity had returned. Your old room hadn't changed much, despite Alicent's questionable alterations to the decoration of the Red Keep. You had found an old toy in the shape of a dragon, and even some old paper on which you had practised your precise handwriting under the strict gaze of a stern Septa when you were a child. It was a memory frozen in time, a kind of testimony to the past. A room that reflected the little girl you were when you left King's Landing.
But perhaps you could change it to your liking, to reflect the young woman you had become. Perhaps it was a way of keeping you occupied before you left again. After all, your mother had promised that your stay would only be temporary. Just time to sort out some inheritance issues. Time to try and heal your family's wounds. Time to secure your family's future. As if the hope of you all rested on your shoulders; the only guarantee that your family wouldn't descend into a bloody escalation, or something like that. 
And yet, even though you'd only been here a short time, you'd already gotten into trouble, and it was Aemond himself who had to rescue you. You hated the idea.
You hated the fact that he'd come to your aid.
You hated the fact that you owed him, that you were indebted to him.
Fortunately, your little escapade hadn't been reported - you didn't want to disappoint your mother, or see the reproachful look on her face, even though you were aware that she might not be in the best position to make a comment. You were close to your mother. You were her eldest. You were her only daughter. She cherished and loved you, and you knew you could share everything with her. But you cherished your secret freedom, and you feared that her concern for her only daughter would give her the bad idea of assigning you closer supervision.
You didn't need a chaperone. You valued what little freedom your condition as a daughter afforded you.
As you slipped under the sheets, your thoughts kept returning to Aemond. The way he'd protected you, the way he'd carried you on his shoulder - it was humiliating, you weren't an object. And the way you had planted a kiss on his cheek. An impulsive act. A foolish act. You had to admit that you weren't averse to doing it again.
It just didn't make sense. Why had he come looking for you when he'd never answered your letters? He'd probably felt superior, after calling you and your brothers bastards, he'd probably decided you weren't good enough to be his friend anymore.  All this time, all these years, you'd been waiting for a word from him - a mere reply to the letters you'd sent. It never came. You concluded that your friendship had ended, in silence, after all you had done for him; after reassuring him, after holding his hand while the maester tried to repair the broken flesh on his face as best he could.
Had he really been your friend for even one day, or had it all been a facade, a role he'd played? Had he ever been sincere?
You were furious.
Rhaenyra had stroked your hair through every disappointment that gripped your heart like the loving mother she was. Daemon - Daemon had soothed you in his own way, telling you again and again that Aemond wasn't a good man, and that you would save your heart by forgetting him.
But now he had come looking for you. Something had changed. He had taken a step in your direction. You were lost. You were angry, but it was not just anger. There was something else underneath that pile of confusion and resentment. His approach unsettled you. Every step he took towards you, every word he said, sent a whirlwind of conflicting emotions through you. A burning curiosity. An irresistible attraction. 
You hated yourself for thinking it, but maybe your betrothal wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe you could retrieve the complicity of your childhood.
Maybe it had never really disappeared.
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In the early hours of the morning, the smell of warm bread tickled your nose even before you felt the warmth of the sun's rays through your chamber window. You rolled onto your side to steal a few more minutes of comfort, stifling a grunt into your pillow. You waited fatefully for the moment when Celia or Jeyne would come and wake you.
"Wake up you lazy groundhog, you've got things to tell me!" 
But the high-pitched, overly cheerful voice that echoed around your room wasn't Celia's, and it certainly wasn't Jeyne's. You sat up immediately, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you, your fingers rubbing your tired eyes to make sure you weren't dreaming. 
Irma Hightower was standing in your room, in a gown more extravagant than ever. You wanted to throw yourself into her arms.
"It was usually me who overslept in the morning and you who had to wake me up," Irma exclaimed, placing the tray she carried awkwardly under her arm on the table with a loud clatter, causing the tea to overflow from the cup and drip onto the wooden table. "But I reckon that sneaking out seems tiring." She punctuated his remark with a knowing wink before dusting off her dress as if she'd just worked in the straw or done the most strenuous physical labour in the world.
Still too sleepy to make sense of your friend's words, you frowned as you looked around for your two handmaidens, the ones who woke you up every morning, helped you get dressed and brought you your meal. "Where are -"
"I dismissed them for the rest of the morning," Irma replied without letting you finish the sentence. That explained the tray and the near disaster. "But here's your breakfast. Gods, did you know a tray was thatheavy? " She paused briefly, barely giving you time to wake up properly.
Irma Hightower was a tornado. She swept away everything in her path - she carried away hearts and minds with equal ease, leaving a whirlwind of chaos behind her. Wherever she went, she stirred the air with unbridled energy, forcing others to adapt to her frenetic pace or be wiped out by her determination. But it would be a lie to say you weren't happy to see her. You sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched, your arms reaching for the ceiling before tilting your head to one side. A smile curved the corner of your lips as you watched your friend. You wondered what Irma was doing in your room in the early hours of the morning, especially when, last you heard, she was supposed to be in Oldtown furthering her education. 
To tell the truth, you might have had an idea why she was here. You just didn't want to subject yourself to your friend's interrogation - some secrets should remain your secrets.
And what you'd done yesterday was one of them.
"'So?" she asked with a mixture of overflowing curiosity and impetuosity, her brown curls twirling around her face.
"So what?" you sighed as you went behind your dressing screen to remove your nightgown. You slipped into a flowing ocean-blue dress adorned with pearls and embroidery - one of your favourite gowns, a creation that reminded you of your favourite element: the sea. 
Unlike your brothers, you weren't made of fire and blood. You were made of sea and storm, and you knew deep down that this was perhaps hypocritical - your own appearance reminded you of it every day. But it was what your heart had always told you, and you'd come to believe it, too. The feeling of your feet in the water and the breeze on your face, its salty taste against your lips, was the one that brought you the most comfort. 
"So what happened yesterday ?” Irma insisted. Her voice grew impatient. "I saw you.”
But you ignored her, busy wriggling to reach the lacing at the back of your dress. In vain. You weren't flexible enough. "Since you've decided to play the handmaid today, help me get dressed," you replied, appearing on one side of the screen, your hands gripping the fabric tightly, your back to her. Irma rose with a long sigh - it was just for show, you knew - and came over to you. You smiled mischievously. You had to admit that you enjoyed seeing her in this role, so opposite to who she really was. You wondered what her time in Oldtown had been like; whether she'd been treated like the spoilt brat she truly was, or whether, on the contrary, she'd had to learn patience, faith and discipline - all qualities that didn't characterise her. 
"I could actually keep you as my lady in waiting, you know. You'd be good for that. Forced to follow me everywhere, I'd love that." 
You didn't need to see her to know that she rolled her eyes. " I am the Queen's niece. I was made for more than that."
When her fingers became tangled in the lacing of your dress, she spoke again, her voice caressing the back of your ear as she tugged at the lacing with a little more force: "You haven't answered my question."
How could you forget that Irma was so perceptive? And above all, how could you forget that when Irma wanted something, it was impossible for her not to get it? You weren't going to get away. She would insist, until you fell for her angelic pout and her round eyes that tried to win you over.
It reminded you of your shared youth - the times you spent together, swapping secrets and gossip, talking about your joys and sorrows. You had been inseparable before you were forced to return to Dragonstone, and she to Oldtown. 
"Nothing happened. At least nothing like you may think," you admitted, turning to smooth the front of your dress. You whirled around, the fabric rising gently around you like a bluish wave. "How do I look?"
"I wouldn't describe being carried around like a sack of flour on your dark uncle's shoulder as nothing. Especially in your family." 
Irma inspected your outfit, her eyes expertly examining you from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, looking for the slightest detail that would have spoiled her work. She brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face.
"Did he kiss you?" Her eyebrows arched, her mouth forming a playful pout of false surprise. She was clearly determined to decipher your every secret, to expose them. You hesitated for a moment, to cast doubt, to let her imagine more - but you were afraid of the repercussions this might have on you. You weren't sure that Irma knew how to hold her tongue. And you didn't want to risk exposing yourself to Aemond's irritation over false rumours. Not when you'd planned to play with him a bit; to prove to him that you had the upper hand, that you could have him wrapped around your little finger and drive him mad. You were still suspicious of him. You hadn't really figured him out yet. You just knew he'd changed since the last time you'd seen him, but you weren't sure how much.
"No, he didn't kiss me," you repeated, putting the same emphasis on the word as your friend. You walked over to the table to sip your still steaming cup of tea. You could feel Irma's round eyes on your back - she was waiting for you to say more. She probably had a dozen unanswered questions: why had Aemond brought you back like this? Where had you been? Who had you been with? What had you done? But you didn't answer right away, biting into the crusty bread.
"He just... came to fetch me," you finally admitted between two bites, your mouth half full - it was a far cry from the princess manners in which you'd been raised. Sitting on your bed, Irma stared at you with her brown eyes - the same as her aunt's. "I was with Aegon. In King's Landing. And I got lost."
That was enough. Irma didn't need to know everything; after all, it wasn't a lie if you only omitted certain details that you deemed relatively unimportant.
Or that Irma didn't need to know.
But the revelation provoked a silence. Your friend didn't answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed, revealing a fine line between her eyebrows, and her lips pursed into a bitter pout. She looked troubled, her fingers twitching in her lap. "I didn't know you were close to Aegon."
If you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't have detected the note of reproach in her voice. Was it jealousy? Was your friend jealous of the time you spent with Aegon?
You weren't sure you understood. He was married - and more importantly, as you remembered, Irma hated him for his debauchery and the alcohol he drank to excess. 
But this was no time to argue, and you preferred to play it safe. There would be plenty of time for your investigation later, when Irma's suspicions would be at rest. "He's my uncle and... he suggested he show me the streets of King's Landing because I was feeling bored." 
And the idea seemed liberating at the time. A moment of stolen freedom, away from the court, away from your duties. Where you were no longer the model princess, the paragon of virtue, but just another girl, lost in anonymity. You weren't sure she understood - she'd always loved the court, the gowns and the politics. You too, of course. It would be a lie to say you weren't made for it; for the life your status as a princess could offer you. You cherished the comforts and loved the responsibilities that came with your role. But sometimes those same responsibilities – and duty above all - stifled you. You needed solitude. To be somewhere else.
"It's dangerous. You could have been harmed!" Irma said, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of concern and annoyance. "You can't just follow a man like Aegon into the city," she sighed.
Some truth was hidden in her words, and you were aware of your lack of rationality, of the stupidity of your foolishness. The danger you had put yourself in, too, for if Aemond hadn't intervened... You didn't want to think about it. The dirty hands and lecherous looks those men gave you still made you shudder. All those risks for an illusory feeling of freedom, wasn't it a high price to pay?
Aemond had come for you. The humiliation still burned on your cheeks. 
"Lost in your thoughts?" Irma asked impatiently, offering you her arm as if she'd waited too long for you to come out of your reverie, "thinking about your Prince Charming again?"
You gave her a little tap on the arm, your eyes raised to the sky at the broad smile that stretched her lips, but you accepted her invitation anyway. "Fine, let's go. I heard that they are training this morning. And I know you're not indifferent to Dornish charm." You winked at her. And arm in arm, you and Irma walked through the corridors of the Red Keep towards the courtyard.
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Aemond's movements were precise and swift. Faced with Ser Criston's Morningstar, he moved skilfully, as nimble as a cat. You leaned against the parapet of the ramparts; your eyes riveted on the two silhouettes that seemed to be dancing in the courtyard amidst the small crowd that had gathered around them. Irma didn't miss a moment of the spectacle, and you wondered if there was a man she didn't find charming.  Aemond, probably.  You knew she didn't bear any affection for him - he was too serious, too stern. Too scary, too.
"Did you get tired of Oldtown, is that why you're here?" you asked teasingly, glancing briefly at Irma.
She leaned towards you as if to share a secret, not taking her eyes off the show the two men were offering. "They didn't want me anymore," she confided. "I used to drive the maesters and the septas mad. It was amusing."
You should have known better. Irma was too stubborn and brash to be around men and women who had dedicated their lives to knowledge. She was intelligent, there was no denying that, but she lacked the patience and diligence that the study of texts demanded. Though she had spent her childhood in King's Landing, perfecting her courtly education at her aunt's side, her rebellious attitude had sent her straight back to Oldtown. And then, she had threatened the Maesters and the Septas - she belonged at Court and she was convinced of it.
"And how is Daeron?" 
"As courteous and charming as ever," she replied. 
Aemond disarmed Cole and everyone applauded; including Jace and Luke, who you could recognise in the crowd. Your betrothed's eyes shifted from the spot he was staring at in the crowd - your brothers? - and looked up at you for a moment. You wondered if Aemond had seen you, if he had felt your gaze on him, and if that was why he had become fiercer in his attacks. A strange sensation arose in your belly, as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, making your heart beat faster.  You forced yourself to suppress your emotions, which you blamed on all the time you'd spent away from Dragonstone. You refused to admit that it was Aemond's gaze that you sought more than any other, especially after the events of the previous day. Especially when you could still feel his skin against yours, his firm hands around your body, his face just a few inches from yours.
You wondered what had possessed you to kiss him on the cheek. 
You wanted to play with him, that was certain. But you refused to subject your heart to the whims of love. Not after the heartache you'd felt when you found out he'd forgotten you so easily.
It was nothing serious.
You met Aemond's gaze. The intensity of his lilac eye had this very capacity to send shivers down your spine.  He didn't even crack a smile, and looked away as if nothing had happened.
"I'll see you later," Irma said, squeezing your arm, before turning on her heels to - presumably - find some male company. Once you were alone, you walked down the steps that led from the ramparts to the courtyard. Your steps instinctively brought you to where Aemond was standing, ready to sheathe his sword.
If he seemed surprised to see you, he didn't show it. His icy eye rested on you, unreadable as ever.
"Lady Strong."
"We should talk," you began, ignoring the unpleasant way he had just addressed you. Lady Strong. The nickname left a sting of humiliation, and under normal circumstances you would have reacted. You would have defended yourself, you would have thought of something witty to retort - but today you had decided to take a step towards peace. You had decided to show that you hadn't come here with any animosity, even though everything inside you was screaming to make him swallow his insolence.
"There is nothing to talk about," he replied mechanically. Cold. Distant. Disinterested. Syllables sharp and icy. 
But yes, there were a thousand things to talk about; the betrothal that would lead to your certain future marriage, the events of yesterday, the letters he had never answered, his hostile and cold attitude towards you. There were all these things and more, but neither of you seemed to know how or where to begin.
"About yesterday -"
"I haven't spoken a word to anyone. Your little secret is safe with me. You can rest assured, niece."
That's not what you meant. It wasn't that you wanted to talk about - it was everything around it; it was the reasons, it was how he had found out, it was the consequences, it was the kiss on his cheek, it was the thick tension between you that you were sure he had felt too. It was all these things.
You took a step towards him. Suddenly you felt yourself bubbling. And as if you'd grown wings, you closed the distance between you without looking away.
"Why?" you asked, your tone more urgent. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to admit what you knew for a fact that he would never be able to. "You could expose me. Tell everyone about my little escapades. Make me lose all credibility. End our betrothal." You paused, leaning your body towards him, your warmth mingling with his.
You felt him hold his breath. He tensed, straightening his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side to watch you.
"Why exactly would I do that, Lady Strong?"
Because you hate me, you were tempted to reply. Because you hate me, just as you hate my brothers. Because you cut me off all those years ago, without a word. And despite all the affinities that could bring you together, despite the fond memories of your shared childhood and your closeness, despite the love you harboured for him, you were loyal to your siblings, like he was to his. Whatever you did, you would always be associated with them. Your family. So wasn't it normal for him to see you as an extension of the hatred he felt for them?
At your silence, he continued, this time in High Valyrian: "I am not the one who despises the other. You know that."
Hate was nothing more than a form of passion.
But you weren't sure it was hate you felt for Aemond - no, the hate would come later, stronger, hotter than ever.  For now, you felt disappointment and a form of betrayal after the friendship that had bound you together for more than a decade. 
"I am not the one who is determined to make you my enemy." 
Enemy, like water to fire. Trying to destroy each other by nature.
"And yet, you treat me like one," you replied. Sharpness staining your voice. 
He let out a hm. He was still staring at you; the sensation was almost disturbing. He took a step in your direction, violating your breathing space. You had to lift your head to maintain eye contact. Then he leaned towards you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly in a smirk.
"I wouldn't have come to rescue you if you were my enemy."
The words barely out of his mouth, he straightened and took a step back, giving you the courtesy to walk away as your cheeks turned red. You didn't need him to remind you of what had happened yesterday. The memory was still frozen in your mind, clear and intact. The ghost of his touch like a burn. You wondered if he felt the same; if he thought about your lips on his cheek, if they had left an invisible, indelible mark on his skin, like his fingers on yours.
You had to change the subject. Quickly. Before you got caught at your own game. 
Your hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword on the table beside the training area. You lifted it. It felt heavy in your hand, still warm from Aemond's grip.
It was strange, this power in your hand. A weapon that could take a life. Too big and unsuitable for your delicate fingers, but fascinating. 
"Teach me."
"No," he replied immediately, following your every move with his icy gaze, as if he feared you might hurt yourself. You rested the heavy sword on the wooden table before turning. You approached him again.
"Daemon taught me how to use a dagger. At least he taught me where to aim to hurt." You flatten your hand against his chest, just below his ribcage. His body stiffens beneath your palm. "He said it was to protect me from dangerous men." Your gaze travelled from your hand to his eyes.
Aemond chuckled. He didn't try to push you away. On the contrary, he kept your hand pressed against him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he guided your hand to his jugular, where you could feel his heart throbbing against your fingertips.
"First lesson: that is where you aim to kill." Caught off guard, you tried to withdraw your hand, but Aemond held it in place, your fingertips on his skin, your eyes both searching and challenging each other. The air was charged. Tense. Like a cloud before a storm. You held your breath. "But you wouldn't dare hurt a fly."
He released your wrist and gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to step back until your back hit the table. He leaned in. His face so close to yours that you could almost feel his warm breath melting into yours. A few inches and you could close the gap between your lips. A few inches and -
"Well, niece. I hope to see you for dinner. And, of course, I expect you to behave."
With that he released you. With that, he turned on his heel. 
He stopped. And without looking back, he added: "And please. Don't make a habit of me saving you. 
Well, you were evenly matched.
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