#what happened???? and how did it happen so fast??? what the fuck??

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Flower Faced

Aemond x wife female character

Summary: a series of diary entries written by Aemond Targaryen following his tumultuous marriage and the realm's descent into war | word count: 13k~ | warnings: angst, smut, infertility, chronic illness, war, character death, wife features is described briefly, spoilers for f&b

15th day of the 4th moon, 128

They have made me a husband. A prince wed to a flower plucked too soon.

She stood before me by the Septon, trembling in her silken gown, her face pale as the moon. I was told her beauty would make up for her lack of standing. That her delicate disposition was proof of her good breeding, a prize unfit for a mere second son. How fitting, then, that it was to me she was given. A scrap for a scrap.

I find myself wondering how she might have appeared in better health, had her frame not been so thin, her skin not so colourless. She is the image of a flower wilting in the frost. I cannot fathom what my father intended when he arranged this match. Did he think her weakness would breed strength in me? That I would look upon her frailty and find myself tempered by pity?

Perhaps it is too kind to assume that my father put any thought into the matter. The one of little importance.

I feel nothing but irritation. A prince needs heirs, and she is as likely to bear a child as a winter rose is to bloom.

She retired early tonight, her maids fretting over her as though she were a babe in swaddling clothes. Preparing her for the bedding no doubt. Several lords approached me thereafter asking for a ‘bedding ceremony’. I fear her gentle heart would have given out if such a thing were to actually happen.

They tell me her name means ‘grace’ in the ancient tongues of the Reach. Grace, indeed. She moves as though her bones might shatter beneath her weight, her steps feather light. I suppose if I were to be truthful and perhaps kind, which I do not know why I should, I would admit there is a beauty in her fragility. Such is the beauty of a fine layer of ice on water in the early winter, easily broken with a mere breath to its surface.

I have no need for beauty, and no patience for weakness. Yet weakness is what I was served, wrapped in lace and trembling upon the bedsheets.

When consummation was inevitable, I thought I might snap the poor thing in two when I fucked her. She is so slight, so frail, as though the gods built her of spun glass and good intentions alone. She did not cry, though I expected it. She lay beneath me as one might endure the bite of a leech, silent, resigned, and still.

I despised her for it.

Not for her fragility, but for her acceptance. For the way she stared at the canopy, her lips pressed into a pale line, her hands gripping the sheets as if she feared being swept away by my storm. I do not know what I wanted. A protest, perhaps. A tear. Something to remind me that she was alive, that I was not bedding a corpse.

When it was over, she whispered, “Thank you, my prince,” so softly that I nearly thought I imagined it.

Thank you. For what? For duty? For what she believed was kindness? She did not look at me as she said it, and yet those two words have haunted me since.

It has been three nights now, and I have not returned to her chamber. Mother, ever dutiful, had broken fast with me the next morning to ensure ‘the act’ had indeed taken place, of which I confirmed it had. But she pressed no further on the matter, as if that was all that was important.

I tell myself it is for her benefit, that I do not wish to worsen her condition. But the truth, if I am to be honest here, is that I do not know what to do with her. She is no adversary, no equal, no dragon. 

She is a flower pressed flat by the weight of its own stem.

2nd day of the 5th moon, 128

The rain has not ceased for a fortnight. King’s Landing reeks of soiled hay and wet stone. I've kept to my chambers to avoid the rancid air, but the storm intrudes all the same.

She has been ill again. The maesters tell me that her disposition is weakened, the damp worsening her condition. It grates on me relentlessly to think that something as simple as rain is enough to set my sickly wife abed for days on end. As if she is made of sugar and will dissolve if she steps outside for a single moment.

I half-expected to hear of her passing this morning when I visited her. Pale and fragile as she appeared when her maids opened the curtains. And when she rose out of bed to look out the window, it was painfully, like a stubborn plant forcing its way through frozen soil.

I asked her why she did not wish to rest.

Her smile was as weak as her body.

“Once these rains have washed away, the grass in the Reach will be as green as those in the Seven Heavens.”

She thought of her home even now. She did not consider King's Landing her home.

Since she uttered those words, I have tried to see it as she does. To see past the filth and shit of King's Landing and imagine the fertile fields and warm sun. As she hails from the Reach, she is drawn to flowers, hence why I noted that day that there were so many strewn about the room in various vases.

They wilt in the damp, just as she does.

Sometimes I find myself watching her more often than perhaps I should. I reason that as much as I loathe it, she is my wife. Whether she notices my watching her and says nothing or is ignorant to it, I do not know.

She moves slowly, as if not to shatter her fragile bones, but not out of fear I now see. She is afraid of little I have noticed, though she has every reason to be. A girl as sickly as her wed to a prince known for his temper, gods, she should tremble when I blink.

But she does not.

I regret I spoke harshly to her. Told her to rest. Save her strength. To let the flowers wilt if they must.

And before retreating back to her bedsheets at the will of her maid, she said.

“Even wilted flowers have worth, my prince.”

I had no reply for her.

11th day of the 6th moon, 128

She looks better today. Has done for several days in a row, much to the maesters relief.

The flush in her cheeks was neither from fever or strain, but life. And seeing her now as opposed to how I had often known her, she was beaming with it. Whether it was out riding or the gardens, she would routinely ignore the advice of those who cared for her health to bask in the sun, if only for a mere few hours.

Her breath was even, her voice was clear.

For the first time since our wedding, we spoke freely.

I had not meant to stay for long, truly. But we walked through the gardens on a warm early afternoon. Although I had to stop every few paces to allow her to bend to retrieve some half-wilted flowers so she might place them in her basket.

She said the maesters said she will likely never be strong enough to bear children. At least healthy ones, or ones who would draw breath once born. That feminine melancholy drifted over her face for a moment, as if she suspected I already knew that truth myself.

And truly I had. It was why I had made no attempt to bed her since our consummation.

I did not know how to respond. Usually women speak of such matters with carefully shielded delicacy, whereas she spoke plainly. But I could not bring myself to express the disappointment I should have felt, or the anger that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

Anger, perhaps not. Weary, maybe.

My answer was not one she would have expected. That I never asked for children. But in my stupidity, I had in fact said, I never asked her for children.

It seems I have driven an already sheathed blade even deeper.

My words may have been misshapen but they were the truth and that is all I have to offer her, is it not? I hold no love for her, but I would never deny such a fragile creature as my wife what I would give any other.

She said nothing. She lowered her lashes and the silence that followed was so unbearable I considered leaving her altogether.

I never asked her for children.

True enough, I suppose. But even I can see how little truth matters in the face of what I’ve taken from her.

I know as well as anyone, what I have actually expressed is that I expect nothing from her.

And perhaps the latter is more cruel.

14th day of the 6th moon, 128

Tonight, we coupled for the second time in our long marriage.

I had avoided her bed for months, claiming duties, council matters and brief bouts of illness that she no doubt didn’t believe as reasoning for my absence. Though after a time, people were beginning to whisper, so I had no choice but to comply. And there was a time where I believed my own mistruth, that I was sparing her. But in truth, I did not wish to see her fragility laid bare again.

She never protested, and likely never would.

So I went to her.

Her chambers were lit by a single candle dotted at several points around the room. She sat at her vanity, pulling her hair free of tight braids and pins. Her hands were so small and pale, I wondered if this small action itself did not overwhelm her delicate nerves. 

It was she who broke the silence. 

“Have you come to pity me, my prince?”

I almost turned away then. 

She let me unlace her gown, let me bare her to the dim firelight. 

It was less frantic though no less awkward. She held me as though she feared I might vanish, and I let her. Perhaps it was the wine, or the quiet of the hour. When I touched her, she shivered. And when my lips accidentally brushed against her neck, she tilted her head back. The floral perfumes she had applied to her skin felt too much of a distraction.

When I finished she looked up at me. It has always unsettled me, her ability to look upon me without flinching. I am a dragon and she is a petal, and yet it is I who wilts beneath her gaze. 

Even the bloodiest of injuries had no such effect on me. 

- - the day of the 8th moon, 128

Aegon celebrated his nameday swiftly as he usually does. It is the third time in one month where he has had to be dragged from celebrations because he is unable to handle his wine. He had of course revelled in the attention, called for songs, dancers and yet more Dornish Red, as if he had not had enough.

The lords humoured him. The ladies pretended not to notice. Father was not even in attendance, it was mother and Helaena who sat diligently at the top table, faces sullen as if they held the weight of the Realm on their shoulders.

For my part, I watched from the shadows, as I often do. My appetite for such things is thin at best, and thinner still with the murmurs that reached my ears tonight.

They speak of her. My wife.

“Too weak to attend,” one said. “She’s been frail since the wedding,” said another.

I could feel their eyes upon me, their pity or curiosity or judgment, I could not say which was worse. It felt such a disservice for others to remark upon her the way I have. 

Nobody was as shocked as I to see her when the doors to the hall opened. There she stood, walking carefully into the light, bathed in a dress that was not crimson, not dark, never. But red all the same, as if she had thought of honouring the house she wed into but not yet willing to loosen the reins on herself entirely. The colour was pale, muted, a shade more suited to her, though it did little to disguise her frailty. Truth be told, she does look sickly in red.

I knew she had wanted to wear it, though. That was why she had chosen it.

For a moment, I thought she might collapse under the weight of the eyes and silence on her.

I thought to rise as she approached me, but for some reason I did not. She inclined her head to me so faintly I doubt anyone else saw, and I saw her locks were adorned with jewellery she had not usually worn.

She inquired as to the whereabouts of my brother, no doubt asking whether the celebrated prince was on his very own nameday, but she did not seem downtrodden when I informed her he had retired to his chambers. As if it were a mere formality.

“Shall we dance, husband?”

I thought to refuse her, to spare her the strain, but the look in her eyes silenced me. And I could not very well be seen to refuse my own wife. She extended her hand, pale and trembling, and I took it without a word.

I thought it would embarrass me, this spectacle before the court. Her weakness had done so before, and I had no doubt it would do it again. But I could not bear to say the words aloud, not when she had dressed in my house colours for me.

I led her to the centre of the hall, her small frame so light beneath my guiding hand that I wondered how she had summoned the strength to stand, let alone to dance. When I placed my hand at her waist and we began to move, I noticed almost immediately that she was struggling to keep pace with the beat. Her breaths were short, shallow, her fingers tightening on my shoulder as though holding herself upright by sheer force of will. Still, she did not stop.

“I hope I have not made a spectacle of us,” she whispered.

I only said there was no need for her to apologise.

When her steps faltered again, I acted without thinking. I lifted her slightly, guiding her feet onto mine so that she would not have to move. She blinked at me, startled, but did not protest. For the first time that evening, her breaths seemed to ease, her grip on my shoulder loosening ever so slightly.

I kept my gaze forward, refusing to meet the eyes of the court. If they found it amusing, I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing it bother me.

I told her that when I was born, it was said I was half the size of Aegon, but twice as fierce. He had cried louder, but they said I fought harder. That perhaps it was the cruelty of the gods to make those of us born weaker feel as though we must prove ourselves twice over.

She studied me, with her soft eyes, but I did not meet them. I regret that now.

When I lost my eye, I told her, they pitied me. Looked at me as if I were a thing to be mended, or worse, endured. And that is I imagine how she feels when they look at her.

She said nothing for a moment, but the faint pressure of her hand against my shoulder told me she had heard.

“Yet, you have made yourself strong. Where I have not.”

For a moment I could only stare at her. But when I found my voice, it was hushed, so that others dancing around us might not hear.

“Strength is not always shown through the sword.”

She replied with nothing.

Perhaps we are not so different, she and I.

19th day of the 10th moon, 128

She is with the maesters today. 

I knew this but I found myself in her chambers regardless.

Aegon, in his perpetual state of drunkenness, had the gall to make a joke of it. Saying that she was with child. The court laughed of course, unable to tell the difference between a joke and insult. I am grateful she was not present to hear it. And for the fact that I did not defend her.

Her desk was an array of papers and cuttings as if she had left in a hurry. Lately she was more tired than usual, and instead of chills and shakes, she was hot to the touch and feverish. Perhaps nobody will understand her condition truly, but I am told that she has been this way since birth.

Lately I have found that practicing with the sword does not steal my attention the way it used to, so there I found myself, looking through the smatterings of paper and flowers, and I doubt it will be the last time.

A leather bound notebook sat snugly atop everything else, the pages fanned out as though abandoned mid-turn. I thought perhaps it was a diary, not unlike the one I keep myself, somewhere to keep my thoughts and worries if they arise. But the little writing that was present was descriptive, brief, and so feminine in its curves and loops that I could barely read it. 

When we were first wed, and for several months since then, I had watched closely and from afar as well as she insisted on walks through the gardens, even despite the advice of the maesters. She could not be stopped. She would fill her basket slung over her elbow with wilted, near-dead flowers, the petals curling inward, their stems drooping, 

I had not thought to ask her why then. Why she collected such things if they were already so close to falling short of bloom.

The flowers are pressed between the pages of a book, their fragile shapes preserved as though she has defied time itself. Beside them, in her careful script, she has labeled each one, names I recognise, though I have never cared to remember them before. A rose, a poppy, a sprig of thyme, rosemary. Even weeds have found their place here.

She has always been given to sentiment, to seeing beauty where others would not bother to look. It is a softness I have long struggled to understand. But she has made them more than what they were, given them a purpose beyond their fleeting bloom.

It was an evening primrose, its pale petals pressed so thin they seemed almost translucent. Beneath it, in her neat script, she had written:

“Evening primrose. For quiet devotion.”

And below that, a date, the day after we were wed.

I stared at it for a long while.

And as I stand there, I realise I have never seen her hands tremble when she writes.

I cursed myself when I returned to my chambers and remembered I had not restored the book to the page I found it on. She will know I have touched it. Her sacred little book.

27th day of the 12th moon, 128

The Keep is more quiet than it has been in months, as the year comes to its close. The usual tensions of the Realm remains, as does my father, who is more akin to a walking corpse than a man most days. He can no longer walk up the steps by himself, and my mother does not have the strength to assist. Even Aegon has managed to hold his tongue of late, though I suspect it will not last.

She has been visiting Helaena more often than usual as of late. Seated together in her solar, embroidering, their voices soft and indistinct, like the murmuring of a distant brook. A casual observer might have mistaken them for sisters, though I doubt either would care for the comparison.

“Soft in the head,” Aegon says of Helaena. “Soft in the body,” he says of my wife. He does not mean it as a compliment, though he says it with a grin, as if he expects me to laugh. I do not.

Though I don’t agree, the two do share a certain gentleness. An ethereal charm that I am not able to form into words. They are both easily dismissed, glanced over in a crowd of boisterous and overzealous personalities. Dismissed by those too blind to see. Aegon, is one such fool.

When I approached, Helaena looked up first with her pale eyes that were so familiar, but said nothing. And my wife, to my surprise, greeted me warmly, and seemed surprised to see me. When I spoke to Mother later, she insisted that my wife was a good influence on Helaena. And that she has a calming presence. One she says I should feel grateful for.

I did not tell her that I am.

2nd day of the 1st moon, 129

The belly of King’s Landing celebrated the turn of the new year more so than any within the Keep. The thunder of laughter and dancing seemed to stir the very grounds beneath me. The merriment of the season seemed to warm the chill in the air, and it seems almost everyone has felt its embrace.

She surprised me tonight.

I had not expected her, not at this hour, and certainly not in such a state. Her usual pallor was touched with faint color, her step more certain than it had been in weeks. There was a lightness to her gaze, an energy that I had not seen in some time, and for a moment, I thought her appearance a trick of the dim firelight.

I motioned for her to sit, though she declined, choosing instead to stand near the hearth. For a while, neither of us spoke. 

But then she said she had been thinking about her place here, at the Keep and by my side, as my wife. I waited, unsure of where this conversation might lead. 

“I know I am not the wife you might have wished for,” she continued. “I know what the court says of me, of my frailty, my weakness. And I know what it is to be a man of your station.”

Her meaning became clear, though I did not wish to hear it.

“If you were to take a mistress.”

I did not mean to startle her by interrupting, but I could not bear to hear the rest. Had she no respect for herself? That she would assume I am so restless that I cannot stay one moment without bedding another woman, simply because I am afraid she will break beneath me? What could I say? That I did not desire anyone else? That the thought of betraying her, even in name, made my stomach turn?

And then she asked why. I offered the only truth I could manage.

“I do not know. I only know that I do not wish to. Is that not enough?”

She replied with a simple, but quiet, “it is.”

She did not stay long after that, but she lingered yet in my mind as she does now, writing this entry at the hour of the wolf. Sometimes when I look upon my delicate wife, it feels as if she is other-worldly, plucked from some distant place and planted right here to wither in the sun. She seems less a creature of flesh and blood and more a whisper of something eternal, a soul untethered by time.

There is a stillness about her, a quietness that feels unnatural, as though she is not bound by the same rhythms of life that govern the rest of us. She exists in the space between moments, the breath held just before the candle flickers out.

She is not a woman to me, not entirely. She is something deeper, something I lack the words to name. Perhaps that is why I cannot bring myself to stray, why the thought of betraying her feels like a sin greater than I could bear.

Indeed why not? I could not answer her then, and I doubt I could answer her now.

5th day of the 2nd moon, 129

Am I not a man, but a beast.

She accompanied me this morning to break my fast. Something we now often do to please Mother.

She sat across from me, the light through the windows pebbled across her face, showing how the flush that had decorated her cheeks was starting to fade. A fleeting bloom I did not wish to see vanish.

She picked at the honeyed bread with delicate, little bites, savouring its sweetness. I hardly touched my breakfast. I find it difficult to eat in the morning. But here I sat, too focussed on the golden sheen of the syrup upon her lips.

When she licked the honey from her lips and fingers, I felt a sharp, sudden pain to my chest.

I do not know what possessed me then.

One moment, I was watching her across the table. The next, I was upon her. My hand tangled in her hair, my tongue licking along the seam of her lips to taste the sweetness that lingered there. She gasped against me, I remember her warm breath, startled but pliant.

It was not quick, though it was desperate, as if I could mold her body to mine, as if I could press all I was, all my essence into her fragile frame. My hands gripped her waist, her hips, her thighs, heedless of her delicacy.

I was a creature of need, of raw, unchecked hunger. And her sweet cunt tightening around me was the only thing that could sate it.

Her breath hitched as I fucked her, but said nothing. Her hands held my shoulders, as if to keep herself steady. I did not stop to think, to question.

When it was over, she lay beneath me, her breathing shallow, her hair tousled. And for a moment I could not bring myself to move. I stayed inside her, relishing the warmth of her sweet womanhood, breathed in her scent at her neck, and felt I might weep.

She smelled of vanilla and amber.

What have I done?

I did not dare look at her, but equally she said nothing. 

I fear I have hurt her. Both in body and spirit. And yet, I cannot regret it. Though now I must wonder if she looks upon me with fear, with pity.

6th day of the 2nd moon, 129

I sought her out today.

The guilt has gnawed at me. Sharp and aching. I thought she might be angry. Or worse, afraid.

She was in her chambers, a shawl around her shoulders to stay the chill that seemed to find her easily, a book rested in her lap. When I entered, she looked up, her expression unreadable.

I said I owe her an apology. Which was a difficult enough thing to admit to myself than to her.

She closed her book slowly, and moved to stand. The shawl made her look frail.

“For what?”

For that morning, I replied to her. For taking liberties. For being selfish and only thinking of myself.

She interrupted softly. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

She must have seen the confusion on my face.

“You did not hurt me,” she added. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “I was…surprised, perhaps. That is all.”

Surprised?

She answered that sometimes she felt undesirable. Repulsive. And the words from such a delicate, little thing were like a blade to my heart.

How do I tell her that I desire her more than I can bear?

She told me that she said nothing during the act because she felt it was improper for young ladies to desire such things. To enjoy them. And she had.

I only said that she is not simply a lady.

She is my wife.

She uttered so quietly I thought I might miss it.

“I did not think I could make you feel this way.”

Gods. She can.

She is not what I expected, not what I thought I wanted. But she is what I need, in ways I am only beginning to understand.

4th day of the 3rd moon, 129

Father is dead.

I've repeated the same sentence in my head for hours now, and yet they still feel hollow. Echoing like the toll of a dull bell. Everything has changed.

Though not unexpected, the whispers of his failing health have been constant for years. Even as long as I have been alive, I'd wager. But the finality of it. The truth. The realm will stir into chaos, as Mother had always warned us it would.

They mean to crown Aegon. They mean to gift him what Father had always upheld was Rhaenyra's.

Any whisper of treason is swiftly dealt with. Otto Hightower sees to it. Nobody is safe, it feels.

My wife has been locked in her chambers, barred from leaving as if she were a criminal. I am forbidden to see her, but I am told by the maesters that her condition is too delicate to bear the strain of what is unfolding around us. The stress, they claim, has worsened her already fragile health.

I am furious. The thought of her, alone and frightened, makes my blood boil. She is not a pawn to be hidden away while the realm burns. She is my wife, and I will not be kept from her.

Mother has tried to calm me, speaking of duty and order, of the chaos that would erupt if the truth of Father’s death were known before the plans are set in motion. But I see no order in this, only madness.

She does not understand. How could she? She has never known weakness, never known what it is to live under the constant shadow of her own failing body. My wife has. And now they confine her to her chambers, as though the isolation will preserve her.

Surely they must know it is not the noise of court or the weight of the realm that will break her. It is the solitude.

If they think to keep me from her, they are fools.

I will not allow her to be dragged head first into the mess Mother has made of this.

9th day of the 3rd moon, 129

Aegon is king.

The bells rang to usher in a new era. A new king. Grandfather had organised the crowds to gather in the Dragonpit, to witness the moment the conqueror’s crown was placed upon my brother's brow, and Blackfyre thrust into his grip.

For all his faults, Aegon is no stranger to spectacle. He held our great ancestral sword aloft, and the smallfolk roared their approval, blissfully ignorant of the blood that stains this crown and the chaos that will surely follow.

I stood beside Helaena. She was dreamy as usual, and barely looked in her husband's direction. She knew as well as I, that it all stank of desperation.

My wife attended, though she was likely too unwell to. It wasn't difficult to guess she had been spoken to by Grandfather, instructed what to do to appear as if she was supportive of this farce. But still, she insisted on standing by my side.

She had applied rouge to her cheeks in an effort to mask her pallor, but it did little to fool anyone. Her face was thin, her movements careful.

The smallfolk noticed. I saw the way they whispered to one another when their eyes fell upon her. They are a superstitious lot, always quick to see omens where there are none. A sickly wife at the hasty coronation of a king.

Her hands trembled as she gripped mine, her strength waning with each passing moment. I whispered to her that she should sit, but she shook her head, her resolve unbroken despite the frailty of her body.

And then the ground shook.

Meleys burst forth, the Queen-Who-Never-Was seated at her neck. And the smallfolk that were not stuck beneath her claws scattered like leaves in the wind. My wife’s knees buckled, her strength finally giving way. I caught her before she could fall, my arm wrapping around her waist as I shielded her from the chaos. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her fingers clutching at my sleeve.

But Meleys did not strike. Nor did Rhaenys speak.

I did not release her until the crowd began to stir again, until the danger had passed. Even then, I could feel her trembling against me, her breath shallow and uneven.

My house has been fractured. Our futures uncertain.

And all I can think of is her pale face, her trembling lips, as she said. “Are you alright?”

I could have laughed if I were not so angry.

12th day of the 3rd moon, 129

The maesters still hover over her, though I have been here at her bedside since the coronation.

She is more fragile than I remember, her breath shallow, her skin too pale beneath the warmth of the fire. Her gaze follows me everywhere, as if afraid I might vanish. Perhaps she sees me as fleeting too. 

Perhaps she fears that I might not return.

I did not think I would be the person she would cling to. And at times I do not know how to feel about it. She has not changed, and yet I used to look upon her with contempt and irritation.

Could it be that I have changed?

I must go to Storm’s End soon.

The Baratheons are key to ensuring an alliance, to strengthen my family's claim to the throne by rallying the great houses of Westeros to our cause. I resent Aegon's rule, yes, but I do not wish to see my whore sister on the throne even more so.

Should that happen, my wife would be in danger as well.

It is Daeron who I must barter a marriage for. It is a necessary journey, one I cannot avoid, no matter how much my heart aches at the thought of leaving her.

She knows this. She knows my duty to the family, to the crown, and yet when I spoke of it, a shadow crossed her face. Her lips parted as though she wished to speak, but she remained silent. The fear in her eyes, however, was enough.

“Will you come back to me?” she asked me.

She is afraid. She fears for my safety, just as I fear for hers. And equally, though she does not speak it, she resents that I have been dragged into this cause.

I promised her I would return.

When I kissed her before I left, I did not want to let go. Her hand gripped mine as though she might shatter with the slightest breeze. She did not speak again, but I saw the unshed tears in her eyes, and it nearly undid me.

I do not wish to leave.

I do not wish to leave her.

- - - - - -

I am living in a nightmare.

She sleeps as I write this. So deeply I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure she is not stood right there.

The journey from Storm's End to Kings Landing was a blur. And when I returned and dismounted Vhagar, I was soaked to the bone from rain. I did not stop to speak to Mother. Could not bear to.

I had not meant for it to happen. But what does intent matter now? The boy is dead.

Lucerys Velaryon is dead.

His body fell from the skies, his dragon broken and bloody. And I just watched. Fear gnaws at me, but not for myself, but what this means for my family and all those that live under my protection. Rhaenyra will want vengeance for this.

My mother, grandfather, they will want for me to claim I wanted this, just so they might shift their judgement onto me instead. Claim that I began this war and not their scheming. They will whisper, I know they will, that this was revenge for the boyish quarrel that left me half-blinded.

And such has ended in his death.

It is not so simple. I know what I have done. I know what they will call me. A kinslayer. A monster. And worse, I fear that she, my wife, will see it too.

When I returned to our chambers, she was sat in a nest made of pillows, propped up to avoid strain. Hearing my arrival, she sat up straighter, though she looked weak, and shakily got to her feet despite my initial protests.

Her eyes still looked upon me with softness, as if I were deserving. And I was unprepared for her reaction. She saw me, soaked and trembling but did not speak. Did not ask what had happened, though she could see some turmoil in me.

Her hands, small and trembling, undressed me without rush. Stripping me of not only my clothes but the weight that slumped my shoulders. She did not judge, did not speak of what was so plainly written across my weathered face.

Her silence was a gift. One I did not deserve.

And yet I leaned into her touch. It was so warm against my skin. I even allowed her to remove the leather over my stolen eye. Something I rarely do in her presence.

I was bare, laying beside her, shaking. And she shed her clothes so that we might embrace without the confines of fabric. Her hands ran through my hair, untangling the salty strands delicately with all the patience in the realm.

“I killed him.”

I whispered it into the dark, without seeing her face.

“Lucerys. I killed him.”

She did not ask why or how. She slid closer, her tender breasts against my back, and ran her hands down my arm.

I told her everything. What I said. Threatened. How I flew after him in the storm. Vhagar.

Her voice in response had no anger. Only sadness.

“You returned to me. That is all that matters.”

12th day of the 4th moon, 129

I went to her chambers tonight as if the Gods had paved the path for me. I could not summon the strength to summon her to mine. Not after what I have done.

She did not question the shadows under my eyes. She simply welcomed me as she always does, with a tenderness I do not deserve.

When our bodies came together it was a communion of two souls. Deliberate. Not a conquest in the least. She is the only thing anchoring me to this world. And each scrape of her fingernails against my back felt heavenly. Kissing me softly. Tracing the scars that mark my body with the same hands that never tremble in my presence. Even now, when I feel I am beyond forgiveness. 

For a night, I did not feel like a kinslayer.

14th day of the 4th moon, 129

I was not there.

I was not there. And I should have been.

I was with her instead. And in my place, it was Helaena’s chambers they reached. Their names I forget, but they were grotesque as if from some old wives’ tale. I cannot stomach to imagine their faces in my mind.

My nephew is gone. They made my sister, my blood, point him out, as if he were meats fetching a good price at the slaughter. If I had been there, in my chambers, as I was supposed to be, would I have been able to stop this? Could I have spared my sister the sight of her son’s blood soaking the stone floors?

I cannot think of it without bile rising in my throat.

The court is ablaze with questions, panic rippling through every corner of the Keep.

Where were the guards? How could this have happened?

I, too, demand answers. For all her faults, I never believed Rhaenyra capable of such an act, sending assassins into the heart of the Keep to put Helaena, of all people, in danger. But this? This cruelty? She has proven herself to have even less humanity than I once dared to credit her.

Helaena has not spoken and not emerged since. I do not know if she ever will. 

I cannot protect my family, even in my own home. Though my wife reassures me, I feel like a kinslayer twice over. Even once I returned to her bed after the commotion had died down and Aegon too, she reached for me, and I let her. Her hands were frail, but somehow steady when they touched me. Like tiny little stems curling into my blood. Growing more and more. Like a gentle annihilation of the man I think I am.

She wept for the child. For Helaena, who would never again hold her son.

And I wept with her.

25th day of the 4th moon, 129

The boy was paraded through the streets, wrapped in silks and embroidered fabrics. My mother and Helanea followed, and any level-minded person would guess that this is desperation. Something I would not forgive grandfather for if he forced such a thing onto me and my wife, if we had a child of our own.

Aegon has ordered the ratcatchers put to death, every one of them, as if blood could somehow wash away blood. I doubt it will ease his conscience, if he has one left. He claims it is vengeance, justice. It is anger. It is shame. It is fear, thinly disguised.

At the council, I learned that Aegon had dismissed my grandfather as Hand. His replacement? Ser Criston Cole. A decision as reckless as it is insulting. 

Mother’s face said what the rest of us could not. She sat in silence, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her lips pressed into a thin line. I said nothing either, though the weight of her displeasure mirrored my own. Criston may wield a sword with skill, but a Hand must have wit and reason. He has neither.

I know I hold little love in the eyes of my own mother now anyway. She looks upon me like I am a monster, as if I have been my whole life. As if this is not what she has made of me.

I returned to my wife afterwards. We rarely speak now, though her presence is a balm I cannot name. The illness has caught her chest again, I can hear it in her breath. She told me to keep my distance, fearing I will catch it, as if I care for such trivial things.

I stayed regardless, seated in the chair by her bed as the fire burned low. She did not scold me for it. She simply turned her head to watch me, her eyes soft, almost apologetic. I reached for her hand, and she let me take it. I can see the fear of what is to come weighs heavy on her. 

This quiet between us. Is this feeling what those countless ballads harp on about? Could this marriage, born of resentment and difficulty, become love?

2nd day of the 6th moon, 129

Aegon’s hold on this war is akin to his grip on a cup of wine at the hour of the wolf. Slippery, at best. He sits in council and speaks of Harrenhal with such conviction, as though Criston Cole marching there will be anything more than foolishness. Daemon holds that cursed ruin, and we all know what awaits Criston if he tries to pry it from him. Yet Aegon seems blind to reason, drunk on his desire to pull victory from thin air.

I suggest a different course. Rook’s Rest. But he will not see reason. And of course it was met with hesitation. Aegon’s indecision is a rot that will take him black, and Mother’s silence does nothing to stay it. 

They all think me hungry for blood and battle. Aemond One-Eye. 

There is a part of me that longs to prove myself. To be remembered for something other than the boy who lost his eye or the prince who killed his nephew. My wife knows an Aemond the realm does not. The one that sits beside her as they lays coughing at night. She sees a man, a good one perhaps. Whereas the court merely whisper of me as if I am a dark shadow.

The realm will never know the man my wife sees. There is a power in them seeing only what I allow, what I need them to know. Strength. Fire. 

Sometimes, I wonder if she mourns the parts of me that the world will never have.

She listens to me speak of my plans, hands clasped, seeing the fractures in her husband, the places where pride and vengeance run too deep to cut out. I wonder if she pities me for it. If she doesn’t, perhaps she should.

13th day of the 6th moon, 129

Rook’s Rest still burns, I'd wager. Though it has been several days since the battle. The wind still whips at me, I feel, as I watch Meleys hurtle towards the earth. Her dragonrider still pitched to her back.

Aegon does not relish in his victory. He lays near death, every breath a struggle. Not dissimilar to how I have seen my wife oftentimes.

I returned to her chambers as soon as I was able. The Keep feels hollow these days, and there I might find peace, where none exists inside me.

She looks frailer than she did when I left, though she insists otherwise. The maesters prattle about her condition, and I find myself snapping at them more than I ought. They are failing her. Everyone is failing her. Even me.

When she tried to rise from bed to greet me, I could not stop myself, I barked at her to stay put, the words sharper than I intended.  

I hate myself for it. But the thought of her straining herself, of her fragile body bending beneath the weight of this cursed war...it twists something in me, something I cannot name.

She is mine. My wife. My delicate flower. The one thing in this accursed world that is still soft, still untouched by the poison of the crown and the war.

I will not lose her.

She, of course, asked what had happened. Having heard the unfortunate nature of the king’s condition. Having heard the whispers. I said it was recklessness. Incompetence. But she has always been perceptive. 

She sees the darkness in me. The flicker of doubt that darkens her beautiful eyes, one she does not dare speak aloud.

But I cannot speak to her of the shadow that is cast over my heart. So instead, I spared hers, and told insisted it was Aegon's folly that lead to his downfall. Nothing more.

She nodded. But her gaze lingered on me. Searching. I know she does not believe me.

She reached for my hand, and I held hers too tightly. She winced. 

I watch her even now, as she sleeps, her breath too shallow for my liking, her form too still beneath the furs. My mind races with thoughts I cannot quiet. What if she never sees me return again? What if I leave and come back to find her gone?

I will not let it happen.

19th day of the 6th moon, 129

The council have chosen me as their Regent. Me, over Mother. It is as it should be. For all her wisdom, her place is not there. Her gentle sex does not suit the burden of governance, no matter how much she believes otherwise. She clings too tightly to something she herself has denied Rhaenyra, and I will not stand idly by and listen to her hypocrisy.

The council at least know my worth. 

Already I have begun to shape the crumbling realm back to stability. The first act began with Mother, relegating her to duties befitting of a Dowager Queen, and one she did not take lightly. It is not cruelty. Necessary. There is no place for soft murmurings of mercy at my council. She will understand in time.

The work is endless. The weight immeasurable, but one I wear with pride. I have longed for this. To show I am not weak, but formidable, with no time for distraction. 

The realm needs me now more than ever.

28th day of the 6th moon, 129

Regency suits me well. It is a shame I was not born first.

The first real edict was to close the city gates, to forbid people from leaving and also to avoid our enemies sneaking past our fragile lines. King’s Landing must be fortified, protected from the vipers who would see us undone. Let the smallfolk whisper and grumble, their safety is ensured only because I am willing to make the hard choices.

Trade has slowed, of course, but I care little for the merchants’ squawking. Better that they lose their coin than lose their lives when Rhaenyra’s forces march upon us.

Though the power is intoxicating it is not without its burdens. I see the faces of the council as they defer to me, the uncertainty that flickers behind their eyes. They doubt my youth, my ability to lead, but they dare not say it aloud. 

There are moments, fleeting though they are, when I wonder if I have already given too much of myself to this war. But I cannot dwell on such thoughts. The realm does not wait for doubt, and neither shall I.

7th day of the 7th moon, 129

I had nearly forgotten her.

The council chamber was quiet when she appeared, the hour so late that even the most loyal attendants had taken their leave. I sat, pouring over papers and maps, looking up as she stood at the doors draped in translucent fabric, her fragile frame looking almost ghostly.

She had come all the way from her chambers, weak as she is, just to see me.

For a moment, I was struck dumb, caught between guilt and irritation. I had not sought her out in days, too consumed by the weight of my duties.

I asked her, sharper than I intended, what she was doing here and that she should be resting. And she did not flinch, but I could see her eyes flicker downwards.

“I had to see you.”

It was as if she wanted to see if I still existed. And that I was not some otherworldly vision, told only through whispers and rumours. For she had not seen me in near a fortnight. Her voice was so soft that it struck a chord I did not need for it to resonate.

I could not say anything more than the realm expects more of me now. The demands on my shoulders. I cannot spare a moment.

Her voice strained. “I had to see you because otherwise I scarcely know my husband lives and breathes.”

Her words erupted guilt and irritation alike. Buried beneath a thin, black veil I have carefully fabricated.

I could only insist I do all this for her. To keep her safe.

“How is it for me, Aemond? All I see in you is this desire for power. You speak of the realm, of me, but this is just sheer ambition, and you are too blind to see what it is doing to you. And I will not be your excuse for how tightly you cling to what you seek.”

I snapped and said how could she know. She has not ruled and never will. She does not understand the burden I bear.

“Perhaps I don't understand. But I know the man I married, the one I grew to love. And all I see is him slipping away.”

Gods, she sounded so wounded I was not sure whether to resent it or pity it.

The man she grew to love.

I was rendered so shocked I could not say anything. Even when her eyes begged for a response. And she turned to leave, her steps weak and faltering with every second. And I did not help her.

I did not help her.

I cannot shake the look on her face. 

I know I should go to her, but I cannot. Her weakness, her frailty, I am afraid it will take me down with it.

And the realm cannot afford more weakness from the crown.

24th day of the 7th moon, 129

Everything is unravelling.

Rhaenyra has thrown everything she has at us, now even her bastards ride dragons. It is a cruel mockery of what we were meant to be. Blood of the dragon, sullied by lowborn filth. And Helaena, sweet and broken, refuses to aid us. Her grief holds her captive, and I cannot rouse her from it. I need her dragon, but she will not hear me.

Today was unbearable.

The council drags their feet and the walls close in. The smallfolk riot in the streets from hunger, one Rhaenyra herself has caused but that they seem to forget.

I came back to my chambers after the council adjourned, weary and enraged. And there, on my desk, I found them. Snapdragons. Flowers of bold pinks and oranges, fierce and alive, their edges tinged with red like the tips of dragonfire.

She has been here.

There was no note. No explanation. The flowers spoke what she did not.

It is a reminder of who I am, or rather the man I should be. The man she loves, not the beast I fear I am becoming.

I stood there for what felt like an age, staring at the blooms as if they might speak to me. In that moment, I made my decision. I must go to Harrenhal soon, to face Daemon, but I will not leave without seeing her first. Without making amends.

When I went to her chambers, there were no maesters, but her fever was heightened, and so she slept with sheer clothing and no bedsheets. She looked like a nymph, laid there, her breasts visible through the fabric and flowers at each bedside.

Like she didn't belong in the confines of the Keep. She belonged out there, amongst the trees and rivers, to exist in breath and wind.

She looked up, rose from her gentle slumber, and looked at me. Her eyes soft and searching.

I kissed her and she did not pull away. She let me touch her, hold her, gasped as I slid her nightgown up her hips and nipped at her thighs to taste the sweet nectar that poured from her.

She was warm and heady, an intoxicating mix of salt and sweetness, like honey warmed by the sun. I drank from her as if parched, savoring the way she trembled beneath me, the way her body seemed to bloom under my touch.

Her breath hitched as I lavished her with my tongue, her fingers desperate as her nailed pulled pleasantly at my hair. Each sound she made was a victory, each shiver a testament to the power she held over me. For all my strength, all my fury, I was undone by her, reduced to this, worshiping at the altar of her body.

Even as she cried out I could not stop. And when it became too much, I rose, her flavour still clinging to my lips. And we coupled slowly, tenderly, for hours. Devouring her as if by doing so, I could take some of her kindness, and bathe me clean of the darkness that lingers within.

She is no fool.

“My love. Do not make love to me as if I will never see you again.”

I could not answer her. She knows I must go. To Harrenhal. Now on my own, if nobody else will assist me.

I felt her fingers on my cheek.

“If you cannot promise me that. Promise me this. Write to me. Wherever you are. Whatever you do.”

I could not find it in my heart to deny her such a simple thing. I will send her my words, if I cannot send my body, soul and love.

I realised right there, her small body spent in my arms how many weeks, months even, I had spent unappreciative of the flutter she always gave me. The unending kindness she would offer. The truth, even when I didn't want it.

I had forgotten to treat her with tenderness.

1st day of the 9th moon, 129

Harrenhal is mine.

The stronghold of the Strongs fell with little resistance. The castle itself, vast and cold, looms like a beast over the land, its ruins whispering of past glories and darker tragedies. House Strong is no more. I have seen to that myself.

Save for one.

Alys Rivers remains. She claimed she had visions of my coming, of my victory, and of greater things yet to unfold. She spoke in riddles, her eyes fixed on me as though she could see into my soul.

Her words, her presence, are tempting in their way. Alys Rivers is a beautiful woman, older than I expected, with a certain allure born of her confidence and mystery. She has made no secret of her willingness to warm my bed, to offer herself to me in exchange for her life.

But I did not take her. I will not.

I told her plainly that she would live for now because her visions may serve a purpose. Nothing more. Let her think she has some measure of power over me if it keeps her pliant and useful. Yet even as I write this, I know I should send her to the sword, for the danger she represents.

My wife would see it how it is. Desperation.

I have not written to her yet. Not my wife. Not the only soul who would calm the storm within me.

I will tomorrow.

For tonight, the shadows of Harrenhal linger too heavily, and the blood on my hands feels too fresh.

17th day of the 11th moon, 129

Now I know why Daemon left this wretched place behind.

Harrenhal is not a castle, it is a carcass. Its halls are hollow, its walls crumbling, and its very air feels like a curse pressing down on my chest. The fires that claimed this ruin have never truly died. They linger in the stones, in the bones of the dead, whispering their stories to anyone who dares to listen.

And I am here now, breathing it in. I thought it would feel like a triumph, taking Harrenhal, but it is not.

I have not slept well since my arrival. And when I do, the dreams come. Muddled and confusing. Vivid and cruel things that weave consciousness into sleep.

Last night, I dreamt of her.

She was in her chambers in bed, sickly, her skin pale and translucent. The maesters swarm her like vultures for flesh, muttering useless words and hovering instead of healing. Her eyes found me, tired and hooded, and it was not a look of blame or fear, but something that still reminded me I am not the man she needed me to be.

In her eyes I saw my regrets. Every harsh word I spoke. Every moment I turned away. Every time I let ambition and anger drown out what little light we had kindled between us.

I tried to reach for her in the dream, but the distance was too great. I called her name, but she did not answer. And when I woke, my throat was raw, as if I had truly been shouting in my sleep.

In another dream, I was between her milky thighs, lapping at her sweet cunt like I had been starved of it for years. She moaned so sweetly as she always did. And when she clawed at my scalp to pull me closer to her it felt different. She was stronger. Less tender.

And when I looked up, her nectar glazing my face, I felt my heart grow cold and hollow. Her skin was pale, yes, but her hair darkened into something akin to raven feathers, her eyes sunk back slightly, cheekbones sharpened. And the soft, lightly colour there morphed into stark emeralds, lips red and quirked upwards.

Perhaps Harrenhal is cursed. Perhaps it draws out the darkest thoughts, the deepest fears, and forces them to the surface. Or perhaps it is only me. Perhaps I am cursed.

I must write to her. She is my tether, the only thing that keeps me from being swallowed whole by the darkness here. Tomorrow, I will write. Tonight, I will try to sleep and hope the dreams do not return.

Dearest Wife,

I write to you from the cold halls of Harrenhal, a place that holds no warmth, no life. Not like your chambers do. The days here stretch long, the nights longer still. It is a place of ash and shadow, where even the air feels heavy. And yet, amidst the ruin, I found something unexpected, a winter rose, growing stubbornly in the cracks of stone.

I have enclosed it with this letter. It is small, fragile, but it persists. A reminder, perhaps, that beauty can be found even in the bleakest places. I thought of you when I saw it. Handle it gently, as you always do.

How do you fare, my love? I pray the maesters have been attentive, and that the chill has not worsened your condition. I think of you often, though I fear my words fail to capture how much. I see you in every quiet moment, in every breath of wind. You linger in my thoughts as if you are a part of me, inseparable and eternal.

I do not wish to burden you with the trials of this place, nor the weight of my duties. But know that I am well, and I will return to you as soon as I am able. Until then, take care of yourself, for I cannot bear the thought of you suffering in my absence.

Yours Always,

Aemond

4th day of the 2nd moon, 130

Alys spoke of visions today.

She said she could see two dragons coming together, sharing the same fate above the great God's Eye. Then my wife, she saw our reunion, my wife's hair lit as if from the sun of the Seven Heavens. She sounded so certain, as if recounting events that had already transpired. She was so confident, I almost believed her.

Almost.

She sees so much, so she claims. Watching the flames dance along her eyes is, in itself, invigorating to watch. Her gentle mutterings are welcome sometimes in the quiet, hollow hallways of Harrenhal. They linger, pulling on the threads of my mind as if I am to her whim.

She moves through this great castle as if she has been a ghost here for generations. Her gaze does not cower before me as many others do, but she stands close. Perhaps sometimes, too close. And I think myself weak for not dismissing her.

She is a woman who knows the route to survival, and I cannot fault her for that.

They are brief, fleeting. The times where I wonder if she offers herself for something more than just survival. When she hands me a raven, her touch lingers longer than it should. 

I do not know what Alys Rivers wants from me, nor do I care to ask.

I have not written to my wife of her. How could I? How do I explain this shadow in my midst, this woman who speaks of futures I do not wish to see? I tell myself it is unnecessary, that Alys is nothing more than a tool, a means to an end.

And yet, I wonder if I am lying to myself.

Daemon is coming. That much I believe. Whether Alys’s visions are truth or falsehood, the outcome remains the same. We are on a path that cannot be turned aside.

When the time comes, I will be ready.

My Dearest Husband,

Your letter reached me today, and I must confess, I wept to see the winter rose you sent. Such a small and delicate thing, so rare. I pressed it into my own book, so it may keep company with my other treasures. Thank you, my love.

I have pressed a snapdragon into these pages also. Last spring, you commented that the colour of their petals reminded you of a dragon mid-roar, and I wished to remind you of simpler times, before the world felt so uncertain.

I have soaked these papers in the oils I apply to my hair and skin. Perhaps a silly indulgence to some, but I thought perhaps it might bring you some comfort, a memory of home in the coldness of that dreadful castle.

The maesters say the chill has caught my chest, though it has for many here. You must not worry, I assure you it is nothing more than the season’s cruel bite. I have taken my draughts and kept warm as you would wish me to, though the days feel colder without you here to hold me.

I hope this letter finds you well. Write to me when you can, even if it is but a few lines. Your words are a light in these dark times, and I cling to them more than I dare admit.

I hope you campaigns in the Riverlands fare well. Remember you are my husband first, not a shadow of war or duty. Please do not forget or lose grip on the man I fell in love with.

Yours Forever,

Your Loving Wife

- - - - 130

The quill trembles in my hand as I write. Ink smears before I can make sense of my thoughts. This entry will be illegible by morning, I am certain. It makes no sense— how could it? Dreams are madness.

Alys.

Alys.

Her belly was swollen, a grotesque curve rounded with child, one of my blood. Not hers. Not hers! I could not look at her without feeling bile in my throat, the heat of shame.

And then my wife.

My wife!

She was there, crumpling to the ground, her grief splitting the air like a storm. Her screams. Gods, her screams. I have never heard her voice raised in such a way, never seen her face contorted with such anguish.

I wanted to go to her, to explain, but I could not move. My feet were rooted, and the air was thick, choking me. She looked at me, her eyes wide with betrayal, and I felt myself drowning in them. No. Not in them.

In water.

My lungs burned. My limbs thrashed. The surface was a distant shimmer, unreachable. I could hear her still, even beneath the water, her screams warped and muffled, but no less devastating.

I woke gasping, clawing at the air as if I could still feel the water pulling me under.

What does it mean? What does it mean?

Harrenhal speaks as if it has a clawing, fearsome mouth.

Kinslayer. Usurper. Liar. Monster.

I am all and none. All and none.

The water, surely it does not drown me, it must cleanse me.

But it cannot. Nothing can. Nothing will.

My Dearest Aemond,

I write to you from my bed, as I have found myself unable to rise for much of late. The maesters are vigilant, though they assure me there is no cause for alarm and that I should not tire myself by writing. They say it is only the season and my own weakness conspiring against me. I do not tell them how I feel the cold seep deeper with each passing day, but I tell you, my husband, because I know you will not dismiss my words so lightly.

News of the battle at the Lakeshore has reached even here. The servants whisper of it, though I hear only fragments. There seems to be a changing of guards here at the Keep, but I do not leave my chambers, so I cannot see why. Are you well? Please tell me you are. It has been too long since I last heard from you, and I cannot help but worry. You are so far away, in such a dangerous place, and the weight of it lies heavy upon my chest.

I would not ask this of you if I thought it selfish, but please, write to me. Even a single line would be enough to still my restless heart.

Take care of yourself, my love. Remember that you are not alone in this, no matter how distant we may seem. You are mine, as I am yours, and nothing, not war, not duty, not even death, can change that.

All My Love,

Your Wife

My Loving Husband,

Why have you not written? Why do you leave me in this silence? The days are long without word from you, and the nights are even longer. I wait, and I wonder, and I worry. Is it so hard to take up your quill? Is it so hard to tell me that you are well?

Please, my love, do not let this silence stretch any longer. Tell me you are safe. Tell me you are whole. Tell me anything, for I am desperate for the sound of your voice, even if it must come to me through ink and paper.

Do you think of me, Aemond? Do you think of the nights we spent in each other’s arms? Do you think of the flowers I left for you, the words I whispered when the world felt less cruel? I hope you do. I hope you remember.

I have tried to be strong, for you, for us, but I am alas not as much as you. Please, my love, do not leave me to this silence any longer. Write to me. Ease my heart. I apologise for my heavy emotions, the ink smudges because of my shaky hands, and they are not as steady as they once were. Do not think poorly of me for it.

I fear I am beginning to lose my sense of time. Did I already tell you the maesters say I will recover? Forgive me if I repeat myself. My thoughts seem to wander, but they always find their way back to you.

I love you, Aemond. It hurts more than breathing. Please let me hear from you.

Yours, always and forever.

Your Loyal Wife

My Beloved Wife,

I read every stroke of your ink like a blade to my chest, not because they wound me so, but because I imagine your voice. Reminding me what I have left behind.

Do you know, my love, how much I miss you? How much I miss the feel of your hands on me, grounding me when the storms inside threaten to consume me?

Do not lose hope, for I cling to it still. If you cannot feel my arms around you, know that my soul reaches for you, across all the miles that separate us. Hold fast, my love, until I can come back to you.

Do not think poorly of your emotions, nor of your trembling hands. They have always been steady enough to hold me, to steady my own restless soul.

I do not deserve you, my delicate flower. But I am yours, wholly and utterly. I will write to you again soon, I swear it. I will not leave you in silence again.

Please, take heart, as I try to do. Remember that I love you, more than I have ever been able to say.

Yours, now and always,

Aemond

My Dearest, dearest Aemond,

Do you remember our first days as husband and wife? How cold you seemed, how distant? I used to think you disliked me, perhaps even resented me for my frailty. I was so small and scared then, unsure of my place in your life, in your heart.

But I see now what I could not see then. You are a man of storms, my love, and I was too weak to weather them. Yet, even storms have their moments of calm, and it was in those moments I found the man I have come to love more than life itself.

I do not know if this letter reaches you, nor if I have the strength to write another. But I need you to know, that I am wholly, and truly, yours. Now and always.

Please, remember me kindly.

Forever,

Your Loving Wife

My love,

It has been too long since I last wrote to you. For that I am sorry. I did not mean to worry you.

Truthfully I have left Harrenhal behind, trawling the Riverlands to those loyal to my sister still, even now. I head towards a confrontation I cannot avoid. Daemon wants his fight, and as much as I would like to be by your side, this challenge cannot be ignored. He is a fool if he thinks he can stand against me, but I must prove it nonetheless.

Once that is done, I swear to you, I will return to your side. This madness, this war, it has taken too much from us both. I long for the peace of your presence, the quiet of our chambers, where only you and I exist in our own world.

I do not know what awaits me when I return. I do not know what has become of you, though I hope you are well. Please know that, despite the distance and the bloodshed, you are always in my heart.

I will write again as soon as I can. Stay strong, my love. Wait for me.

I am yours,

Aemond

My love,

I await your reply like a lovesick child.

I fear the worst with each passing day, each hour that I do not hear your voice. Have I lost you? Is the cold consuming you, or have you fallen into silence for some other reason I cannot fathom? Please, I beg of you, send me word. Let me know that you are still waiting for me.

I have prepared myself to face Daemon, though I care little for the confrontation. His challenge has become a matter of necessity, but I cannot shake the thought of you, fragile and alone, while I am here, so far away. I would rather be by your side, taking care of you, than facing that traitor. But I have no choice now.

I am desperate, my love. A few lines in your gentle hand would give me the strength of a thousand men. Without you, what am I but a man trawling this desolate, darkened land, lost forever without your light to guide my way.

Please do write. My cherished flower.

Aemond

My darling wife,

I woke to a raven today. The words written within it seemed impossible, a cruelty that no man should have to face. It tells me of your passing, of your death.

But I refuse to believe it. I cannot.

You are not gone. I would have felt you, felt your soul leave this realm. I would have felt the Stranger take you from me, and yet, there is only the emptiness. The cold distance that stretches between us, yes, but not your absence. Not truly.

Were such a thing to happen, my love, I would have felt a pain so deep in my chest, I would have cried out. I would have howled until my throat bled. You are too vital to me for your death to be a mere whisper in the wind. No, this cannot be real.

Do not let the maesters fill my mind with their lies. Do not weaken the fragile hope I cling to, the only thread keeping me tethered to this world. Please, I beg of you, let me hold onto the belief that you are still waiting for me. That when I return, I will find you where you belong, by my side.

I will nourish you, body and soul, as I should have from the very beginning. For I do not believe that the distance, the war, the bloodshed, it has not been enough to sever the bond we share. When I come to you, I will fix what I have broken in myself, and I will fix what has withered between us.

This war has broken me, my love. I have witnessed too much, done too much, and it has hollowed me out in ways I cannot even express. But you, you always knew how to heal. Your touch, gentle, sure could mend what no one else could. And so, I beg you, when I return, lay your hands upon me. 

Fix me. 

Make me whole again. It has been so long since I have felt so. Without your touch, your voice.

I will come for you.

Forever Yours,

Aemond 

21st day of the 5th moon, 130

The winds howl so loudly now. 

They sing on the eve of what may be my last. Daemon is here and he waits for me. One of us must fall, though I have reassured my wife that it shall not be me.

I write this now because I do not know if I will have another chance. If the Stranger comes for me, I will not meet him with words left unsaid.

To my mother. You were the first to see me, even before I knew myself. When I was a boy without a dragon, I ran to you, tears staining my face, and you held me as though that could mend what I lacked. The day I lost my eye, the boy you nurtured was forced to become a man. A bitter man. Perhaps I lost more than my eye that day. Perhaps I lost the better parts of myself. If I am to die tomorrow, know that I never blamed you for showing your love to me the way you did, and though I may not have shown it, I am grateful.

My sister. Sweet sister, I am sorry. Sorry for your grief, sorry for your pain, sorry for all the ways I could not protect you from this cruel world. You deserved peace, and all you have been given is sorrow. I hope that, in another life, I might have been a better brother to you. I hope you will forgive me for failing you.

Aegon. Brother, I have resented you for much of my life. Perhaps it was jealousy, perhaps it was anger, perhaps it was something I will never fully understand. But you are my brother, my blood, and for all our differences, I have never wished you harm. Not truly. If I do not return, lead this realm as you see fit, but know that power is a fleeting thing. Do not let it consume you as it has consumed me.

To my wife, my delicate flower, if you ever read this: forgive me. Forgive the times I was cold, the times I let my anger and pride obscure my love for you. Forgive my silence, my absences, my failures to be the husband you deserved.

I see you even now, though miles lie between us. I see your smile, rare but radiant. I hear your voice, soft but sure. I feel your touch, delicate but anchoring. You made me feel whole, even when I thought I was nothing but a shattered thing.

Daemon may take my life tomorrow, but he cannot take what I carry with me, the memory of you, the warmth of you, the love you gave me even when I did not deserve it. That is mine, and mine alone.

If the Stranger does not take me, I will come back to you. I will hold you, care for you, and let the world crumble as long as I have you. But if I do not return, know this. 

I loved you. 

With all that I am, with all that I ever was, I loved you.

The winds howl louder now. Perhaps it is time I let them carry me. And if it is to be so, take me to her.

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

018 — for her, i am.

(a/n: u might wanna grab some popcorn for this one.)

JENO POV

“i know who leaked my secret.”

he had said it so quickly that he forgot the words had even come from his mouth.

jaemin stares at him, eyes wide in a mix of shock and weirdly, sadness.

but then jeno realises why. he had let jaemin be bullied, staying silent as all of his friends attacked him. he had done nothing.

jaemin didn’t care that jeno knew who it was, he didn’t care who had ruined jeno’s life, because jeno had ruined his. he thought that jeno thought it was him, he had assumed that’s why jeno did nothing, out of hatred, out of anger. but now, now it made no sense. jeno was meant to be his bestfriend.

jeno became angry at the thought. not at jaemin, but at himself. and he hadn’t even explained to him the whole story yet, he hadn’t even told him who it was.

jaemin spoke first after their silence.

“you better start explaining.” jaemin says, and rightfully so. jeno feels as if he should had done the explaining a while ago, he wanted to. but it all happened too quick. he never got the chance.

he doesn’t know why, but he feels like jaemin and him aren’t going to be the same after this. not after what he’s about to tell him.

jaemin grows inpatient, angry even.

“come on, jeno, im not gonna sit here and wait for the fucking grass to grow!!”

jeno says nothing still, and this only makes jaemin’s anger worsen. but he just doesn’t know what to say, how to word the sentence that will ruin their friendship.

“WHO WAS IT JENO?” jaemins grabbing his shirt at this point, and there’s nothing he can do but close his eyes and take it. “WHO WAS IT YOU HAD TO PROTECT SO MUCH TO THE POINT WHERE YOU HAD TO LET ME GET PUSHED AROUND, HUH? WHO SPILLED YOUR FUCKING SECRET, WHO DID YOU FEEL WAS SO SPECIAL TO YOU THAT YOU COULDNT SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE?!! WHO WAS IT, JENO?! WHO W-“

jeno’s heart races. his fists clench. his arms tense.

he snaps.

“IT WAS ME!”

jaemin stills.

he lets go of jeno’s shirt.

his eyes never divert from his, his last breath never leaving. they both stand in the apartment lobby, the cold air of outside, breezing through the window, half cracked open, the distant buzz of the vending machine whirring in the corner and the deep hue of the midnight sky absorbing the light from around them.

they’re silent, they’re still.

neither of them dare to speak.

until jeno notices jaemins face.

it’s not anger, it’s not sadness. it’s pity.

“it was me.” jeno’s voice is lower now. “i leaked my own identity.” he looks at the floor, in both solemnity and shame.

“why?” jaemin asks. “why would you do that to yourself?”

“i didn’t know it would spread so fast. i posted it on an anonymous account before my race. i wasn’t expecting it to be spread so quick, let alone on national news. i thought it would be slow, i was going to tell you, i was going to tell everyone. i had decided i didn’t want to be samo anymore. but the speed of it all… i wasn’t ready yet, i hadn’t prepared yet, i hadn’t told her.”

jaemin stills at the mention of you.

“so that’s why.”

jeno nods.

“you’re an idiot.” jaemin says, throwing jeno’s words back at him.

but jeno isn’t laughing.

“for her, i am.”

that’s where he realises the gravity of it all. that both of their deception had all come down to the route of one thing, of one person.

you.

jeno continues. “do you know what she told me when we first got into that fake relationship?”

jaemin shakes his head.

“she told me that she didn’t understand why i liked living as samo more than jeno. and usually, i did. i loved living as samo, it was the only time that i was able to really be myself. but when she came along, i realised something. i realised that i didn’t want to be samo anymore, i wanted to be the person that she knew. technically, she knew samo, yes. but it was me, as jeno, that she truly knew. and when she told me that i should just live as jeno, avoid all the public attention and just go outside without a mask, i realised that she was right, that that’s who i wanted to be. i wanted to be me, because of her. so when she told chenle who i was, i should have been mad, i should have been pissed. but, truly? i was relieved. she had done the first step of my journey herself, i could break off the deal. i could explain that i didn’t care about it anymore. i could explain that i wanted to date her for real. but i didn’t do any of that. i was still angry, i was angry at the reason why she had told chenle. he ruined it all. i couldn’t explain it to her, what i really wanted. because she liked him. and it only confirmed my suspicions when i found that stupid fuckers hoodi-“

jeno realised he had be talking for too long when jaemin began to smile.

“oh man i’ve been waiting for you to say that for the longest time, that you want to be yourself.” he pulls him into a brief hug as he speaks, as if he hadn’t even heard the second half of jeno’s rant.

after a second, jaemin pulls away before stating the obvious truth of what’s staring them both in the face, “if only it wasn’t because of her.”

reality dawns on him, pushing on him like an incoming storm. “im sorry jaemin, but ive made up my mind.”

jaemin nods, expecting jeno to say more. but he doesn’t, he just walks to the elevator, clicking the floor to their dorm. jeno hopes that jaemin forgets all about you, that he puts his feelings for you aside. but he knows jaemin too well, he knows no matter how much he tries, jaemin will never forget you.

“you getting in?” jeno says, a smile plastered on his face.

jaemin grins back before running to the elevator to join him.

jeno was going back home.

well, he will be once he fixes things with you.

jaemin lets out a sigh, seeming deep in thought. “you sacrificed everything for her.”

jeno looks at him, an understanding of what he means by this.

“jaemin-“

“i’ll take the fall for it.” he says, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “you don’t have to tell them it was you yet, if you’re not ready.”

jeno panics, “i can’t let you do that. not anymore.”

“please let me.” he fidgets, watching the numbers on the elevator screen climb up, and up, and up. “it’s the most i can do.”

jeno doesn’t know what to say, just like before. so he does the easiest thing. even though he knows he shouldn’t, he does what he knows he’s going to regret.

the elevator dings to a halt.

he lets him.

a sacrifice for a sacrifice.

previous : mlist : next

notes; it’s been so hard tryna keep this secret guys u have NO idea

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[unholybacon355]

What's under my christmas tree?

Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 6 K

TW: Incest.

A/N:

I have to say some important things.

First, they are deeply wrong and damaged. Please notice that.

Second. I was supposed to release this on christmas eve but things happened so I'm posting it now.

And third, this is the continuation of Day 1 of my Kinktober stories. You don't need to read that after this, since is a short story gives zero context to this one. But if you want to read it you can find it on my profile.

And last one. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I thing would be better if I split it in two. So second chapter is coming soon.

CHAPTER ONE

Another family dinner, as the thousand you have had since you’re alive, nothing special about this one that makes it memorable. Just a complete normal family dinner with your dad, your mom, and your older sister. Everything normal, nothing to care about, not at all. Just the usual things like Ryujin making fun of you for being a loser and not getting bitches. She is loving messing with you while she’s rubbing her foot against your crotch under the table. Just a totally normal Christmas dinner with your family.

You’re hard and nervous at the same time. You want to take off your pants and let your sister perform a proper footjob, but for obvious reasons you can’t do that in the middle of the family dinner. She knows that and you can see in her deep brown eyes that that is exactly the reason why she’s messing with you right now.

You can remember exactly how this insane side of your relationship started. Was years ago during one of your vacation that she found you smelling an used pair of panties. You thought it was from one of her friends, Chaeryeong, who was with your family on that vacation. But ended up being one of Ryujin’s used panties instead. That crazy night she maybe had drank more than she should have and one thing led to another so you ended up putting a show from your sister and masturbating in front of her, smelling her pussy aroma from her dirty underwear while she was making fun and encouraging you at the same time. From there things were periodically escalating within days, and by the end of the vacations you two eventually ended fucking.

You seriously think that you should feel bad about the fact that at least once per month you cum inside your sister’s pussy, but seriously she’s so annoying on a daily basis that you believe that is a great compensation.

You aren't getting bitches, as Ryujin always says, and she takes advantage of that by always messing with you. Always rubbing her body against you in the most subtle ways, like for example how she did during the family photo this same evening.

You were sitting on the couch accommodating for the said photo and Ryujin just sat on your lap. The problem was that she was rubbing her ass on your crotch, causing you a massive erection. The almost imperceptibly slow and circular movement of her ass made your shaft stab her, and she was smiling all the time. No one could notice it on the photo but you were holding it to not bend her over the carpet and fuck your sister in front of the christmas tree.

And now you have her foot rubbing your erection while she's making jokes and asking you mom to pass her the salad. Your sister is a truly evil being, but you have to give credit to her for maintaining this charade. She should venture into acting since is too good at putting on that poker face while doing nasty things. 

You know how fast her expressions can change since one of her favorite activities is ruining your orgasm by looking right into your eyes with her most dirty and slutty face, and in the right moment changing to a disgusting or angry face. Your sister could easily be an actress and win an Oscar.

Is incredible how Ryuijin can manage to look like a good daughter while bringing you to the very verge of an orgasm. Her foot works on your crotch pressing and rubbing your erection  with expert and precise movements, as if she had done this countless times. And maybe she did it, since even you know the rumors about her that people tell in her campus. And it is her expert foot that finally makes you cum, but is a disappointing orgasm. Totally ruined by the fact that you can make any noise and have to maintain your composure since you're in front of your parents, still at the family dinner. Ryujin's foot immediately leaves your erection in peace when she notices that you have already cummed. 

Somehow you managed to maintain composure and not moan right there. Only your mom noticed something was wrong and asked you if everything was ok. You were quick to tell her that you have eaten so much because everything was delicious, and that's all. That was just you having a full stomach and nothing more. Deflecting all doubts into a burst of giggles from your sister. At least she helps you with this one. 

After dinner came the exchange of gifts, which you had to go through with your boxer soaked in your cum. It feels dirty and makes you worry that your parents might smell it, or your pants get stained and they could notice it. Luckily for you nothing happens and everything goes right, you even get a pretty gift from Ryujin. Which considering what she just did to you at the dinner was giving you mixed feelings.

After all, family night ended up being beautiful, as a christmas night should be for everyone. All the fun and family games ended sooner than you wish because your parents had to leave to attend a friend’s party and obviously you weren't going to be hanging out with your sister in the living room. So one second after your mom let you know that they aren’t coming back till tomorrow lunch and  leave the house, you're running to your room without giving any chance to Ryujin to mess with you again. 

Hours have passed but you are still awake, being occasionally distracted from your studies by the snow falling at the other side of the window, and for your sister’s steps coming down and up on the stairs. What she’s doing is a mystery for you and honestly you don’t wanna know, maybe she’s sneaking one of her friends in the house to get her guts rearranged. In which case you don’t wanna know, or maybe you want and you will use the sounds of Ryujin getting railed to jack off properly. Since she ruined your orgasm at dinner, that sounds fair. You’re now curious but to your surprise her steps stop in front of your door. 

“Are you still up, loser?” Ryujin asks after carefully opening your door and sticking just her head in the room. For some reason she’s wearing makeup and a christmas hat. 

“Get out, I'm studying. I have an exam next week.” You make her a gesture with your hand to leave the room but instead she blatantly steps inside. Know you really don't know what is happening because Ryujin is dressed like some kind of Santa Claus. The all red costume could be considered sexy in some way because she’s wearing a miniskirt that barely covers more than her ass, thigh highs and a crop top jacket leaving her stomach exposed. All of that topped by a cape, that is actually what is preventing her ass to be seen, and said hat. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh come on! Stop being a loser. Is christmas.” She’s putting on a show here because is pouting and stepping on the floor as if she were some kind of spoiled child. Which in part she is. “Don’t you wanna watch a movie with your sister and have a nice night? I already settled everything on the first floor.”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?” You have the right to be suspicious since clearly your sister is plotting something here. 

“Come on Loser, is christmas. I don’t wanna waste my night sleeping, not tonight. Besides you study a lot, you're practically the first in your class. You deserve a rest too.” Well, at least she was right on that. “I already prepared hot chocolate and cookies. But if you don’t want it, all it's gonna be for me.” And recovering her bratty attitude, more or less her true nature, Ryujin sticks out her tongue and leaves your room. Obviously she didn’t close the door.

When you were about to close the door something made you change your mind and instead you shouted to the first floor. “Wait for me, I’m coming down in a minute.” Maybe she’s right and you deserved a rest after hardly studying the entire year. 

Minutes later you're amazed by what Ryujin prepared for your little movie night. She has moved things in the living room, making a big space in the middle. There on the floor she placed blankets and some pillows piled against the big couch, making a bed for you two. There is also a center tabled with what seems to be a thermos with hot chocolate and some christmas cookies, two mugs of that hot chocolate have been already served and are steaming there. All of this is being illuminated by the light of the christmas tree and the big freaking 85 inches tv your dad insisted your family needed. This scene could be romantic if not were because you two are siblings.

"Why are you suddenly doing this?" This seems like too much coming from your sister. “What are you plotting?”

“Can you not be a prick for a moment?” Ryujin seems to be a little offended by your doubts, or maybe she’s acting up again. With her you never know. “Already said it. Just wanna have a nice christmas.”

“Ok, ok. Maybe the Christmas spirit possessed you or something. Can I pick the movie or have you already prepared that too?” You ask sitting in the blankets. 

“No, you can’t.” Ryujin sits beside you and covers you two with one blanket. She puts a mug of hot chocolate in your hand and press play. Your sister had selected a romantic comedy. One of those movies that always happens in New York where a young couple inevitably falls in love, but at least it was a Christmas movie so that’s something. 

The night was so relaxing and for the first time in months you were just there having a good time. The movie ended up being quite good and you were able to enjoy it, you two were having fun after all. You didn’t even notice how or when Ryujin hugged you, this time without trying to inappropriately touch you, or how she was feeding you with pieces of cookies by putting them directly in your mouth. So for almost two hours you and your sister were laying there enjoying the movie and having a lovely night. The fact that at times this seemed more like a date than two siblings watching a movie together flew over your head, you were completely blinded by enjoying the warmth of your sister hugging you instead of fighting with her. 

By the time the movie credits appear on screen Ryujin had her head resting on your shoulder and you were petting her. This was maybe the first time you were like this in years; with no fights, no jokes, no sex, just both of you enjoying a lovely moment. But the spell broke once the movie came to at it inevitable end. That trance that blinded your eyes during the movie wasn’t present now and for the first time you were aware of Ryujin’s body pressing against yours in a tight hug. 

“Was a good movie after all, but it is late now.” You broke the reigning silence in the room, and despiste your word you weren't sure if you wanna stop hugging your sister.

“Did you like it?” She asks with her head still on your shoulder. “Never thought my little loser was into that kind of movie.”

“I’m not into it, but this movie was good. And…” Suddenly the realization that she called you “My” hit you. “Why did you call me like that? I’m not yours. Why do you always call me loser?” Your arms are no longer surrounding her body.

“You have to ruin everything, right?” Ryujin pushed you and stood up. The blanket that was covering you fell to a side, the cold hit your bodies now since each other warm was missing. “You’re my brother and I’m the only one that calls you Loser. Can’t I show some love for you now?” This sudden change in her mood surprised you.

“Ok, just calm down.” You're standing too now. “Maybe I’m suspicious since you decided to give me a footjob in the dinner. Did you forget that?”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t enjoyed it.” Well she was right, once again. “You're always so happy to cum on me and then act like if I were using you or something.” To your surprise she pushed you. That caught you off guard causing you to fall into the couch. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You quickly stand again and grab her hands when Ryujin tries to push you again. Despite being younger you were visibly taller and heavier than your sister so it wasn't too much difficult for you. “Seriously, what is happening with you?” Ryujin tried to escape from your grasp but you didn’t let her go anywhere. “The footjob, the present, the movie, and now this. Are you crazy or something?”

“Let me…” She finally can free herself, or maybe you let her go because you just noticed how tears were forming in her eyes. “ I’m just tired and really wanted to have a nice moment with someone that at least loved me in the past.” She was holding tears.

“Ryu…” You can control yourself and you surround her with your arms in a tight hug. “I still love you. You’re my sister. Yes, you’re annoying most of the time, but I still do love you.”

“Then why do you have to treat me like your sex toy?” She was sobbing now. “ Why can't you be gentle? Why at least you can’t be gentle with me?”

“Ryu, what’s happening.” You really don’t understand what’s happening here, what is this all about. “I don’t know. Maybe because you bully me when we fuck? But I like it, and… And… Maybe I don’t wanna admit that I enjoy fucking my sister.” This is really the first time you say that because it is truly the first time you two get remotely close to talk about this.

Ryujin tries to push you away but your hug is thigh. “Lier, you’re just like the others. You want me because you can fuck me everytime you want.”

“What? Nooo Ryu, no.” Seriously, this is going to a weird place. “Are the rumors true?”

“Yes, they are. I’m campus's easiest slut to fuck as everyone knows, even you had hear that.” She sobs loudly” I’m so tired of people faking that they are close to me because they wanna fuck me. I’m so tired of people trying to get me drunk because in that way is more easy to fuck me.” Your sister was losing the battle against tears because some had dropped over her cheeks. “I’m a person too. I’m capable of more things than getting my holes stuffed and moaning. I just can’t stop, I can’t feel ok if I'm not drunk or messing with you.”

“Ryu stop!” Maybe you said that a little louder than you should have. “What are you talking about?” Now you hold her face with one hand and dry her tears with the other. “You’re more than that to me. Remember, you're my sister. Don’t you remember who pulled me out of the lake that time I almost drowned when we were kids? Did you forget that time when I broke auntie’s Joohyun porcelain and you said that it was your fault so that they wouldn't scold me?” More tears came from your sister’s eyes when she heard your words. “Have you never noticed why I’m always studying so much? Is because of you. When I started college I wanted to have the same good grades as you because you're so smart. You don’t even need to study. Even now that you're drunk almost every weekend you still have good grades. How can you not see that I do care for you?”

“Lier…” Ryujin wasn’t fighting anymore. She was just there crying in silence, grabbing you tightly by your jacket.  

“Ryu, please. I really enjoy our times together… I. “ This is something you don’t wanna admit, not even in your mind, but maybe this is the only moment you could do it. “You wanna know why I’m not getting laid? Isn’t because I’m a nerd or something, in fact some girls have asked me to go on dates with them but I can’t. They aren’t annoying like you, they aren’t as smart as you… I can’t go with them.” Yeah. Your relationship with your sister was really fucked up, and for the things you were saying this was a point from no return.

“You…” Her hands were shaking. “ You really mean it?” Even with the poor light you could see a bright in her eyes when she asked that, and wasn’t the bright of her tears.

“Yes, and you can call me your loser if you want.” Now Ryujin is the one who hugged you, hiding her head in your chest but never stop crying. “But please stop crying. We still can have a good night. We can watch another movie or somet…” You weren't able to finish what you were to say because Ryujin grabbed your face and kissed you.

Was a shy kiss, something different to everything you had ever had with her. Normally your kisses are dirty, furtive, charged with sexual tension and short. This was different, more needy for something that you can’t describe at the moment, but you were kissing her too. Her tears were wetting your face while your lips were dancing together. One of her hands was still holding tightly the side of your jacket. 

After what you said, after what you admitted, this feels so different. Suddenly you're hungry for your sister, you want more from her but you remember what she said and don’t wanna break this moment. You seriously love her for more than her pussy, after all she’s your big sister, but now this kiss is doing things to you.

You don’t need to worry anymore for whatever you should do because it is Ryujin who hugs you by your neck and makes her body closer to yours. Since the blanket isn’t covering you anymore, the temperature on your bodies has started to drop, but this kiss is bringing up the thermometer. The kiss is becoming needy and her hands are playing in your neck.

You grab her by the waist , a shiver ran through her body when your hands meet her skin making her tremble for a moment. Ryujin broke the kiss panting for air. She’s not crying anymore, instead there is this new light in her eyes. Something has changed on her. You try to say something but she muted you with a quick kiss on your lips and start lifting your jacked. You help her to take off the garment and your shirt goes along with it. The cold of the winter didn’t bother you because Ryujin's hands are over your chest, you feel a strange warm coming from where she touch you and spreading across your entire body. 

“Ryu…” But she muted you again with a kiss before taking a step back. Without taking her eyes from yours Ryujin opens her jacket, leaving her cape on, and lets it fall over the blanket on the floor. She’s not wearing lingerie or something fancy as someone would think, instead she’s wearing a normal bra like she would wear on a normal day. In some way you prefer it like this, but at least said garment is red, matching the thematic of her outfit. 

She attempts to take off her thigh highs but you stop her. “No… leave the stockings… Please.” She says nothing but just takes off her miniskirt instead. Ok, she wasn’t wearing lingerie but her underwear matches, even when they were simple pieces they were matching. You found that a lovely gesture because you understand that you weren't meant to see that since she wanted to have just a nice moment with you instead of hooking up. So the makeup and all the prep was just for her to feel better and pretty.

Your sister looks beautiful standing on the blankets, wearing only her underwear and cape. To you, the light from the television and the twinkling lights from the tree don't do justice to her flawless skin. You wish this had been a moonlight night so she could be bathed for the silver light, but instead the snow is falling and pilling outside. 

You both are nervous to make the first move, as if you were a couple having their first time instead of a pair of siblings that had known each other since forever. But it is Ryujin that finally reaches you first. She hugs you and soon her hands are playing with your neck again. You can help but find her lips and share a kiss, more passionate this time. Your hands wander across her skin, caressing her waist and tummy.

Despiste Ryujin exercising regularly, her body is not that toned. It's just on the verge between being fluffy and muscular, and you find that so attractive. You can see her biceps contract when she’s carrying something heavy, or punching you, but also can see her thighs jiggle when she walks around. Seeing your sister half naked like this is like a heavenly vision to you.

By this point you have been fucking around for almost two years, but you never have seen her completely naked. Well maybe that time when you ate her pussy from behind when she was about to take a shower. But that was just for a brief moment, nothing like this where she's yours to watch and touch, even when she isn’t completely naked. Your encounters are always fast, subtitles, hiding and trying not to make a noise so your parents can´t fin their children fucking. But here and now both of you know that you can give free rein to your darkest desires.

Ryujin again is the first to move and reach your waistband making you pant fall to your ankles. Your boxer does a miserable job at hiding the tent that formed where is your dick. But how not to be hard when you’re doing this with your beloved sister? It’s impossible not to. 

“My little loser is already so excited.” Of course she has to make fun of you in a moment like this, can’t be in another way. “Let noona take care of you tonight.” She whispered that into your ear with her raspy deep voice, and made a shiver run through your spine. Or maybe it is because Ryujin is stroking your erection, and even when is covered with your boxer she still can feel your bulge throbbing in her hand when it is being inflated with blood. 

You moan and kiss her again. Maybe the loudest moan you had ever allowed her to cause on you, but is quickly muted by the kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth and she accepts it, but she’s still the one that’s guiding the kiss. After all, your sister is the one with more experience here. You only have kissed a couple of girls before rejecting them, so your sister’s are the lips you have tasted the most.  

She takes off your boxer too and you kick it away with the rest of your clothes. Now you're totally naked and in her hands to do whatever she wants. The imbalance of power is evident here but you don’t care, after all Ryujin said that she will take care of you and you believe in her. So the gentle push she gave you on your chest didn't take you off guard this time, but still made you fall into the couch. 

“Shhhh.” She muted you by putting a finger over your lips when you opened your mouth to say something, and instead of letting you know what she was gonna do, Ryujin just knelt down between your legs. You knew what was coming by the way she was staring at your shaft with those feline eyes, as if a lion were stalking their prey. Ryujin wrapped her fingers around your erection once again and gave you gentle strokes, immediately a drop of precum forms on your tip. 

You feel her tongue on your head collecting your precum, and her warm breath on your shaft. The view you have is amazing and your sister stares back at your eyes, looking to your soul, when she starts engulfing your tip and slowly but never stopping she swallows your meat till her lips touch her hand. A big portion of your erected shaft is in your sister’s mouth, and you feel so comfortable being surrounded by her warmth that you don't even bother on think that this is wrong.

And then, Ryujin starts sucking your dick, but again something feels different. This is not fast, she’s taking her time to give you an actual blowjob and not just some quick blows. She strokes you at a slow pace while her head is going up and dong on your dick, her tongue also is playing around your meat maximizing the pleasure you're receiving. As she said, your sister is taking care of you.

“Relax, loser.” Her voice is so calm, and despiste calling you names you know this time she isn’t making fun of you. All you can do is pet her head and caress her hair while she continues sucking your shaft. The feeling is so amazing, like no other head she has ever given you. Your dick feels so welcome inside her warm mouth. 

Your sister doesn't go really deep, just swallowing half of your dick, but this still is so pleasant. Her tongue dances around your shaft in ways that you even knew were possible. That makes your breath heavy and by the look on her eyes she’s proud of that, she likes what she’s making you feel. But she still gives you more and the blowjob becomes messier and sloppy. Ryujin is now coating your shaft with her saliva.

When Ryujing takes your shaft out of her mouth it is so covered in her saliva that some drops fall into your balls. “Come here.” She makes space for you in the blankets beside her, and you let yourself slide from the couch to the floor. Your sister loses no time and sits on your lap, pressing her clothed core into your wet shaft. 

She finds your lips again, and despite feeling your taste on her mouth you don’t wanna be kissing someone else. Your hands find her ass and knead her plump buttocks. A needy moan is released right into your mouth at the time your sister starts riding you, and her hands are cupping your face. The way she moves over you drives you crazy and makes her underwear wet, you can feel it even with your shaft coated in her saliva, so her pussy must be completely soaked by her own juices.

“Just let me…” Ryujin raised her body a little to slide her panties to the side, releasing her pussy from the embrace of the fabric. Then she aligns her glistening folds over your tip and descends slowly, taking your dick at a tortuous pace. “You feel soooo stretching me out.” Her voice is so low when she talks again, but you still can hear traces of her raspy tone on it. “You’re filling me so well, Loser.” She don’t move, instead Ryujin just kiss your face and plays with your hair. Right now she’s so far from being the bully and annoying sister that she has been this past years.  

When Ryujin moves her hips again, you feel how her walls tighten around your throbbing shaft. That feels delicious, to say it in one way. Her warm wetness is surrounding your hard meat, and her lips are glued to yours in a passionate shared kiss. She rides you slowly, enjoying every movement and releasing waves of pleasure through your bodies. 

Once again, as you have been so many times, you're so buried inside your sister’s cunt. But despite all the times you have done this, this time feels more pleasant. Like if you had unblocked a new level of passion between you two. Something that wasn't supposed to be archived by a pair of siblings. A bonding really forbidden.

You need more of her body, so your hands reach for the back of her bra, but you struggle to get it open. You haven’t done it enough times to memorize the process yet. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” The words are followed by a small giggle. “Another day I'll teach you to open it with just one hand.” Ryujin bites your lower lip and you get nervous causing  your hands to slip from her bra. “Try it again.” Isn’t a order, is most like a petition. “Take off noona’s bra. I want my tiddies sucked.” You finally get the strength and concentration to get the damn clasp of her bra open. She laughs amused and throw her bra way, finally releasing her breasts. 

Her tiddies aren’t big, but are big enough to fill your hands. Her nipples feel so stuffed and you caressing them makes them harder. But regardless of the fact that this feels amazing, this isn’t what your sister said she wants. She was clear on her petition, she wants her tiddies sucked and you’re no one to refuse it. 

As soon as your mouth meets her right tit you feel how Ryujin’s arch her back. By pure instinct your tongue is playing with her hard nipple, and by the moans she’s releasing you think you’re doing good. Your other hand is on her left breast, playing with it as well. Ryujin practically huge your head holding you in place, so you can’t stop sucking her tits, and you do as you were told. From time to time you change what of her tiddies is on your mouth and what is being caressed by your hand, but you never stop sucking and your sister never stops riding you. 

Her movements are now faster and messier. You feel her wetness around you and how her walls embrace your throbbing shaft. The way she makes you feels is so amazing, never ever before fucking your sister has been so pleasant. Apparently she’s having a good time too, because her moans never stop. In fact, they are just becoming louder as she rides you and you play with her tits. 

“You're making noona feel so good.” You didn’t need a confirmation because you already could feel it, but her words are well received. The way she’s moaning, the way you make your sister moan and shiver in pleasure make you feel proud. Despite not being experienced you still can make Ryujin have a good time, and not one of those furtive hook ups you have been having.

“God, those batches don’t know what they’re missing.” Ryujin manages to say between her moans and whimpers. “My little brother's cock feels so good inside me.” Her dirty but affirmative words toward you make your dick throb inside her. 

You redoubles your attacks over her tiddies, sucking and kissing. Rolling her nipples between your fingers and covering them in saliva with your mouth.

 “You want noona to cum over you? To mark you?” You can’t respond because your mouth is busy sucking her left tiddie, but you can suck harder to let her know you want her to reach her orgasm over you, in your arms. Apparently the massage is well received because she changes the pace of her hips.

Now your sister’s movements are slower but conscious, she’s never breaking the pace. Also she’s taking you as deep as she can every time your hips meet, making your shaft completely disappear inside her.

Despite being a cold Christmas night, with snow falling and all, your bodies are warming each other to the point you feel no cold. Plus this is so pleasant that nobody could focus on feeling cold when you have your beautiful sister riding your cock.

“This feel good? Noona is taking good care of you?” She kisses your forehead in a gesture that's way too romantic for the situation, but honestly you don't care anymore. What's the point on denying that you aren't just fucking but you're making love with your sister? There is no worse blind than the one who doesn't want to see, they say. And maybe it is time to open your eyes and accept those feelings. No matter how twisted they are.

Maybe Ryujin needs someone that actually loves and takes care of her too, instead of just wanting to stuff her holes. And maybe you can be that person, or at least you can be there for her till she finds someone. But honestly, who can be better for her than you?

“My little loser is making noona feel so good.” The control she has over her voice even when is so close to orgasm is amazing. You feel how messy and fast her movements are, but nothing of that can be spotted on her voice. She sounds calm, with her deep raspy voice doing things to you. Making you throb inside of her as if you have a second heart down there.

Finally the wetness of her core drench your balls letting you know she reached the precious climax. But not just that, because you can hear how your sister is moaning right into your ear. Ryujin is still riding you, slowly decreasing her pace till she’s sitting in your lap, with your shaft buried inside her. 

She’s practically panting because she did almost all the effort, but hair isn’t what she needs now. All your sister can think is on finding your lips and sharing one of those passionate kisses with you. Ryujin is holding your face, not forcing you but not wanting you to go. She doesn't need hair because she can have that anytime, all she needs now is the only person that doesn't see her as a slut.

Time gets blurry when you are passionately kissing your sister like that. Hungry but also slowly, in a way you have never felt before. No girl’s lips made you feel like this before, is a new hunger that you just found and don’t know if it is right that you are satisfying it. This gluttony may be a capital sin.

“That was good.” Ryujin said before kissing your forehead again and playing with your hair. “Best orgasm I’ve had in a long time.” Your sister hugs you seeking for your body heat on this cold winter night. You are just there, laying on the floor with your sister hiding from the world under her christmas cape and between your arms. 

“What about me having an orgasm too?”

“Don’t know if you deserve one.” Her head is resting on your shoulder. “It's your punishment for making me cry.”

“I thought I made you cry with pleasure.” You joke while lovely petting her black hair, as if your balls were not coated on sex fluids for the second time that night. All your sister’s fault.

“Don’t be that bold, Loser. You are still not that capable. But…” She pauses to ponder whether she should say the following or not. “Maybe noona can give you another lesson. Another Christmas gift.” She said before kissing your jaw and asking with a whisper right into your ear. “Wanna be a big boy and fuck noona in the ass?”

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 6- The mission is non-existent

TW: School shooting

______________________________

Damian looks around the room, it feels more like an apartment rather than a room

"No wonder the miss rarely comes down for food, with the amount of kitchen appliances here she'd rival a small town restaurant..." Alfred chuckles, he looks at the expensive, top grade materials

"There's nothing in the fridge though..." Jason grumbles, Duke is asleep beside you holding your hand and Bruce admires the scene "That's enough, stop rummaging through your sister's stuff"

He looks around your room, pictures of your friends, you at parties, you at school events, how the fuck?, you held your own charity gala? How??? Where did you get the money? How did this not reach him?

"hng- ow- What the fuck!?" You wake up and you see the cast of the Addams family surrounding you

"Don't try to overdo it" Dick helps you sit up

"Huh?"

Reader! You are fucked, everyone's hatred meter has gone down to 10%, EVEN DAMIAN AND JASON'S METER

You shift further away from Dick, his gaze turns sad sensing your discomfort with him, he really needs to change that

"Is there something you need?" Duke asks, he holds your hand tight, "Do you need us to do something?" Asked Tim

"Can you all please leave my room..." You say and you see that Bruce hesitates "Are you sure? You might need assistance?"

Reader, make them go away, it keeps on dropping! If it reaches zero you'll fail!

"There's no need, it was just fear gas..."

_____________________________

School was absolute shit.

Damian had pulled you away from your friends to eat with you during recess, you'd also found out Tim bribed the principal to switch your classes so you'd have the same as his

Some of your friends are annoyed that your siblings are meddling, they've never eaten lunch with you before? Why now? And others are cooing, they've never seen you interact with your siblings, and the fact your gentler with your friends than your siblings makes them happy

Your teachers are grateful that you manage to tame Damian

"(Name)! I watched your violin concert last night! You were amazing!" Says a student, you smile "Thank you!"

Then the student's mood shifts "I heard that the route you were taking home was attacked by both the Joker and Scarecrow right? Are you okay?" They ask, the surrounding students get curious but don't necessarily engage

"yeah... I'm fine" you say, you're trying to think of ways to differentiate the topic, the student gasps "Oh but I saw on the news that you were one of scarecrow's victims! And that you inhaled the fear gas..." She says as she smirks, "I don't really want to talk about it, and I'm fine..." You answer

"Oh but-" Damian grabs her arm and pushes her away from you "She says she doesn't want to talk about it? Why are you pushing?! Are you really worried or you just wanted gossip?" He snarls

You see the girl wince but smiles anyway "ah right... Sorry"

And then it hit... An attack? It hits your school so fast, the students scream and panic, "Everyone out!" Shouted a security guard, you hear a bunch of gunshots in the halls and the screams from that direction become quieter until it stopped completely see

Are you serious?

A school shooting.

Never in your original years and reincarnated years combined have you ever been so fucking scared and pissed off at the same time

First and foremost, you just survived the mother fucking scarecrow, now you have to survive guns?

Damian holds your hand and runs away with you, "What are you doing!? You're supposed to save people!?' you whisper-yell to him, he gets you to a hidden area and hands you a small dagger he hid in his socks, he looks at you worryingly "Stay here, wait till I get back-"

"They've been apprehended!" yelled a student, "Well... There's no need for that huh?", slowly you and Damian walk out of the room to see what happened? Did another bat get them already? Was it Tim?

Then you see her.

In a hero costume, trapping the shooters with what seem to be magical ropes, her costume design looked like it was stolen from my hero academia

"There's no need for all of you to worry, for I Protagonist has taken care of them, they'll be handed over to the police" she says

"Did she really name herself 'Protagonist'?" Tim comes from behind you looking baffled at the name choice

"At least she saved us" you say

_____________________________

Hey so do you guys remember that one comment about the family couch on chapter 2? And how all the years of living there you never sat on it? Well after days of the family trying to get you to watch a movie with them on the couch, you confessed you feel weird about sitting somewhere sacred to them

You come home after volunteering at a soup kitchen that the family couch is gone, replaced by a new pristine couch with comfortable pillows

Stephanie smiles at you "You're back! Wash up, the family is watching a movie" mixed in her voice a tone of dominance, you can't say no

You find yourself huddled up, you feel yourself sweating as Tim curls up on you and Cass is leaning on your shoulder, Dick hand you the remote "You pick" she says

You scroll for a few moments and you feel the family get a bit impatient, so you click on the nearest movie you find

Bad idea.

It was a movie about a dog being abandoned by their owner in a hike and as they try to find their way home they die

You're in shambles, you've watched people die in movies, either terminal illnesses, a series of unfortunate events, murder, you've cried to some, some didn't phase you

But a sad dog movie?

You are wrecked, Jason hands you your 3rd tissue pack, your inconsolable, you hate animals getting sad endings, the. Titus licks your hand, Damian brought him to console you, while Bruce chooses another movie, this time he chose a dog movie with a happy ending, you hugged Titus the whole night

It happened to you before, when you and your friends were in a really lengthy assembly, they fell asleep on your shoulders, you made it your mission to not move at all, you didn't want to wake them, you liked that they learned on you for comfort

But Tim and Cass sleeping on you, you have no idea what to do, your instincts that you got because of your friends tell you to stay still so they'd be comfortable

Another part of you is screaming that if you don't move the hatred meter will go down

And go down it did

Everyone is down to 2%, you can't let it get to zero, you can't

Bruce looks at you "(Name) about your upcoming 16th birthday-"

He sees you asleep, he smiles and admires his children

Matter of fact you were just pretending to be asleep, if you hear another birthday party plan you'll die, last year you had that Damian excuse, but now? You're out of reasons to not have that stupid party

So you sleep...

Oh well look at all of you...

What a happy family.

You're done for.

_____________________________

Damian: I need to place (Name) in a safe space before helping

Protagonist: the job is done

Tim: Tacky fucking name

_____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[ggidolsmuts]

Secret Weapons - Won Ji-an

TW: Potential spoilers for Squid Game 2! Leave if you haven't watched it.

"Hnngh! Ah! No! Fuck! You asshole!" You're in bed, on top of Ji-an, her hands on your chest, trying to stop you. You have a hand on her neck, and with the other you're stabbing her, pressing your fist into her neck, slowing down right before you actually make contact.

"Fuck, you think I look easy? Die die die die you fuck!" you recite the lines, not stopping until she has her eyes closed, a grin breaking out across her face. "Hey, you're supposed to be spurting blood and dying, not smiling."

"You sound too funny like that."

"Well sorry, I don't tell my girlfriend to die all that often."

"I should hope not." She pulls you close, humming as you nip at her neck. "We should do one more run through the script."

"I'll just do it like this." You continue kissing up and down her neck, and when you find a spot that makes her shiver, you suck on it hard, nipping on it hard enough to make it sting and leave a mark.

"Ow!" Ji-an shoots a hand up there, and she finds a small red line on her fingertip. "I'm bleeding!"

"It's a very tiny nip, just slap a bandage on it later."

"Why did you do that! Now I have to get makeup and stuff over it!"

"So they know not to touch you there." Ji-an's mouth drops open as you slide a thigh between hers. "Because this is what happens." You push it up against the apex of her thighs, feeling just how wet she is and watching her squirm.

"Ah…"

"One more run through the script, you said?"

"Just shut up and get in me." She kisses you, tugging on your lower lip not too gently as she works your boxers down. You slide her drenched panties down her legs, and easily you slip into her, both of you gasping at the sensation. You and Ji-an engage in wordless passion, her eyes glassy and dazed as you pump into her, moaning with every dip of your hips against hers. You place a hand over her neck, right over the spot where you nipped her earlier, and she tightens around you substantially.

"God!" Her head lolls back, keening into your hand, and you keep at it, massaging and palming that spot, and Ji-an's mind is in a haze of pleasure, like you're overriding all coherent thought. Her nails dig into your back, pulling you closer and whimpering as she wraps her legs around you. "It feels so good!" she squeals before shutting her eyes, letting her orgasm take over. You groan as she tightens around you significantly, but she has the wherewithal to tap your shoulder.

"W-Wait! Don't cum!" She shivers as the last few waves wash through her, but you do manage to listen to her, breathing heavily as you hold off your own.

"What?"

"Two seconds!" Wobbly-legged she hurries to the bathroom before coming back out. Before you can say anything she's back on the bed, kneeling to take you in her mouth. Your moan is hitched as you feel something cold on the underside of your shaft. You can see the smile in her eyes at your reaction, and she sucks you even more vigorously, her tongue twirling around your shaft.

"God Ji-an, what—" She pulls back, all the way to the tip, and with only your head between her lips she moves it back back and forth, the hard and cold friction going straight up your spine. With a loud moan you buck your hips and cum. Ji-an keeps her tongue over your head, playing with your tip as she collects your load. You shiver as she keeps her lips around your shaft, the coldness on the underside persistent as she pulls back with deliberate slowness.

She's smiling again at you, this time with a lip ring right in the middle.

"What is that?"

"Lip ring, part of my look for the show." She smiles and takes it off easily. "Thought it might be interesting."

"I'll say, make sure you get to keep it after you're done filming."

"They'll definitely let me keep it if I tell them what I used it for."

"You're horrible!" You cuddle her after getting all your clothes back in their right places. "Make sure you die fast."

"Wow and I'm the horrible one?"

"In the show, so we can spend more time together! You gotta let me finish."

"Oh I will, I have the secret weapon now." You massage the freshly patched up spot on Ji-an's neck, chuckling as she squirms and twitches.

"That makes two of us."

A/N: Something short for her, kinda like my Jung Hoyeon one from Squid Game 1 lol, she is mad pretty and charming, both her and Park Gyu-young (No-eul). Of course there's Jo Yuri also but i'll write her some other time. Thanks for reading!

[cuchufletapl]

I see your point, but I still think she might have thought she killed him because, even if she heard rumours about him, I doubt she would've heard about the specifics of his disappearence, which also happened not too long after their fight.

Here's my guess at the timeline of events. It's not too exact because to be honest the show plays fast and loose with establishing when the fuck anything is happening, but this is my understanding:

Battle on the bridge, she sets off the grenade, it nearly kills her and injures him.

Over that night and most of the next day, Singed does shimmer surgery on Jinx while Ekko (I guess?) rests under the bridge until he meets Heimerdinger.

I'm pretty sure it's the night of that very same day when Jinx kidnaps Silco, Caitlyn, and Vi and shoots the rocket at the Council.

Season 2 kicks off with Cassandra Kiramman's funeral, so it's probably been no longer than a week (despite the fact that Zaun immediately went up in flames of infighting between the chem-barons vying for Silco's seat).

Memorial and attack on the memorial happens the next day.

I think Viktor wakes up the next morning, but it might have been a a couple of days later to account for how long it must have taken for Caitlyn to put her team together and for Jayce to make their hextech weapons. It can't have been more than a couple of days, though, because when Viktor wakes, Jayce was sleeping at the lab, shirtless and in his bloodied bandages like he was in the scene at the forge in the previous episode.

We see Ekko again for the first time in season 2 right after that; he and Heimerdinger go to the lab and find Jayce there, properly dressed. When Heimer inquires after Viktor, the show cuts to him as he's just gotten to the Sumps of the Undercity. This leads me to deduce this is all happening on the afternoon of the same day that Viktor wakes up.

Ekko, Heimerdinger, and Jayce go to the Hexgates that same day and they get shucked off into alternate realities for months in the original timeline.

This means that, between Ekko and Jinx's fight on the bridge and Ekko disappearing, about two weeks transpired. Less than ten days, if they didn't take an entire week to bury Caitlyn's mother and my assumptions about Viktor waking up next day after the memorial attack are correct.

I also think that Ekko spent those days at the Firelight hide-out recovering from the damage that the grenade blast inflicted on him (he's not being treated with shimmer, after all) and managing their growing population crisis, so nobody but the Firelights (and Heimer and Jayce) saw him in Zaun.

Furthermore, the Firelights are kind of secretive (out of necessity, of course). They conceal their identities when out and about in season 1, they managed to keep the location of their base out of Silco's knowledge for years, and they'll welcome anyone who needs a safe place, but they lead them there with bandaged eyes until they know they can be trusted. This is to say that if, and that's a big if, news of Ekko disappearing made it out of the Firelight community and, say, Sevika found out, I don't think she'd have all the details of the exact timeline of events. And although I don't doubt the Firelights searched for him extensively, there was no sign of him for months; they painted him on the mural, which means they eventually gave him up for dead, and that might as well have been what Sevika was told.

I think Jinx is predisposed to think she did kill him, too. That quote embershroud108 brought up in a previous reblog: "It’s always me. Whether I’m pulling the pin or not, everyone who gets close to me dies." Ekko was one of the very few people remaining from her past when she was still Powder, which would make his death another one in the list of people who cared for her that she's killed. So when she starts hearing the rumours that Ekko is MIA all of a sudden, and it happened around the same time as the first attack on Piltover, she'd jump to the conclusion that the explosion blast killed him and his body must have fallen over the bridge and into the river, and then she would not inquire further about it because it would hurt too much to know the details and confront (what she perceives to be) the truth that she'll jinx whoever comes close to her.

Someone pointed out that it's likely that until Ekko said, "See if I can talk an old friend out of blowing us up," Jinx thought he was a hallucination. That's why she didn't hesitate to pull the ring in the first loop, but jumped off the platform the second that he implied the explosion would affect him too and therefore he was actually there. And that got me thinking that she hadn't seen him since their fight on the bridge. That it had been months and there had been riots and movilisations in Zaun that the Firelights were involved in and Ekko wasn't among them. She didn't see that he managed to get away when she blew up that grenade. She thought she'd killed him. Jinx thought she'd killed Ekko months ago and was hallucinating him in her final moments. I'm fine.

[ziminy]

Nightshift pt.3

Having them as roommates was a problem

Tags: smut, mdni, ageless and blank blogs will be blocked, explicit language, f!reader, college au, Gojo and Geto as housemates , jealousy (again), filming, fingering, oral (f and m giving and receiving), public s[e]x (in the car) , panty stealing, crying, hand job, double penetration, squirting, threesome, hair pulling, edging, overall just me going feral again,

Author's note: I'll be honest with everybody in here, I'm embarrassed by what I'm writing. My creativity surprises me sometimes.

Author's note(again, sorry): I wanted to post it sooner but I'm busy with school and shit. My classes are in the morning and I'm this close on dropping everything for some sleep 🤏 (I wrote this a few months ago and all I can say is that life is so much better after dropping out.)

Pt1 Pt2 masterlist roommatesmasterlist

Life is strange. It's amusing the way it works. Fascinating, you could even say. Goofy, perhaps. But a thing was clearly, as long as you're housemates with Gojo and Geto you'll never live a peaceful day ever again.

Truly strange.

And you can't even figure it out when it all started, because now it's just normal. Your worries flew out the window a long time ago. Did you think that your relationship was weird? Yes. But it's not that unusual if you don't think about it.

You were anxious because they were anxious. Their weird energy got to you, that's why you ran away. Or maybe your thoughts got to them and now it was this game where everyone goes back and forth for nothing. Fighting over things that aren't even that deep to begin with. Conversation will always be the key. And if you know how to use it, then you'd have access to so many doors in life.

That's some philosophical talk, and we don't do stuff like that in this house. It was an idiot trying to show how dumb the other is, even if they share the same brain cells. Everyone were dumbasses in here. No one knew how to communicate or use the so called keys. Everyone were on their own trying to do what they know the best.

It's complicated. What is right and what is wrong? What made you so irresistible that made those hungry wolves to want to eat you alive? What made you so gorgeous that they couldn't take their eyes away? What made them want to compete with each other when they used to share women like air, changing the person next to them like socks. Here's a lady, and now another.

No one wanted to share anymore. All they wanted to do was to prove that one can have you more than the other. A competition with no start and finish line until you decide to make it stop. Which one you liked more? Which one made you stay up at night or make your pussy wet by just thinking of him?

Which one did popped up in your head first? Did you touched yourself think of someone? The thoughts could go on and on. It was truly amusing the way they didn't try to talk to you. Only make fantasies in their heads while observing you. So small, so cute. So ready to take that cock right now.

One had to do the first move on proving something that it doesn't need to be proved. Someone will cry, someone will laugh. One will end up victorious while the other will be sad. It can be both of them who's crying. It can be a whole another mf that gets you in the end.

Someone need to do something. Quick. Fast. Just hurry up.

And the one who did the first move was Gojo. Just the way he asked you to move in with him, he was also the one that made the decision on what's going to happen next.

It was simple. It wasn't even a move to get you. It was more to piss Geto off. It was to annoy his friend with the fact that he fucks you when he's out. It was to show him that you're having so much fun when he's not home. It was an audio of your sweet moans opened at the wrong time.

Geto didn't had the time to check his phone when he was out. Now that he got home, he walked in the kitchen, ready to eat something with you and his other housemate. He sat down on his chair, took a few bites and then press play on what his friend sent him. Moans. Everyone stopped and turned their heads on the dark haired man.

"Suguru, you dirty bastard." Satoru laughed. You looked in shook. You didn't even recognize the voice of who ever was that on his phone.

"Satoru, why would you send that?"

"Satoru???" you looked at the white haired man and all he did was to laugh.

It was just the start. Next time Geto received a video.

It started with Gojo placing his phone on the kitchen counter, facing you who was washing the dishes. He left his phone there and walked behind you, kissing you softly as his hands went down on you. You only sighed. You stopped whatever you were doing for him. His hands already in your pants, fingers rubbing your clit slowly. Your soft sounds, the way you let him do what he wanted to do. Suguru's eyes were fixed on the screen. He wanted to turn up the volume so bad, to hear you. He wanted to listen to your voice. And then the video stopped with Satoru fucking you with his fingers, his eyes moving on the camera, smirking.

Fucking hell.

How unfortunate for him to be away from home. Why does he have to be out here instead of being in that damn house.

So he waited. He waited until he got home. He waited a few days for his dear friend to go away, to just be out this house so he could get his hands on you.

Ohoho. And when he did.. He placed his phone on the couch, to face your lower half, getting in the picture your thighs and him who was in between your legs, eating you out.

He was doing it with so much passion only to make you loud. To make you clearly shake for the camera to capture it. To make your hands go in his hair so hesitantly, not knowing if you should pull at it or not, if you could even touch him. His arms were flexed, looking so big compared to your body. He was doing it intentionally, he even did a few pushed ups before he even pressed the record button.

He didn't wait for the sun to shine at the right angle for nothing. Everything was calculated, from the way the camera captures your body, to the best place in the house.

And it sure did backfired at Gojo, who was staring impatiently at the clock. When can he go home? When can he see you himself? That fucker. He thinks he can play his game? The game Satoru started? To think that he's the one jealous now.

And here was the plan for the other video the white haired man did. Or this is how it went.

Skin against skin. Usually he would have been scared of crushing you with his weight, but today? His body on top of yours, chest against chest. Your bare skin touching him with nothing in the way, your legs wrapped around his waist. Whenever you or him tried to get a little away, someone dragged the other back. Your nails into his back, holding into him like your life depended on it. Everything felt so intimate. The way you looked at him. Those big eyes that Geto calls ugly. That dumb little smile. You looked in love. In love? No. It can't be. Can you even love to begin with?

Is this what made you happy? Playing this gentleman of a man? Someone who will hold you tight in moments like this? I mean, who doesn't. But did you really liked it that much?So much that you'd look at that guy he calls his friend like you've been in love with him all your life? You're not even doing anything, just kissing, you're bodies being pressed against each other.

He had to try it himself.

Just like before. He waited for the right moment, then acted his plan up. Because if he'll get interrupted or wake up with an unwanted guest he'll go nuts.

He wasn't horny. He wasn't even in the mood to do something today, all he wanted to see was if you were like in that stupid video.

He sat at the edge in your bed, watching you getting your clothes off, never taking his eyes of you, always making you stay in front of him where he can see you better. His hands carefully placed on you, slowly dragging you into his arms.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, his hands all over your body. Just wanting to feel your skin, the warmth you gave him. How you looked so different compared to him. You were glowing, you were like a flower carefully placed in a field full of sunlight. And he was the moon who wanted to take all that happiness. The way you smiled under that damn sun, he wanted to take that away.

"Suguru.." you said his name so lovely. He was really going to bite you.

"Kiss me." he ordered. He wanted you to do a wrong move so he could punish you for looking so warmly. You let him in your arms so easily. It made him mad.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. It was so quick that he bearly even noticed.

"You call that a kiss?" he wrapped his arms around you and let himself fall down in bed, dragging you along with him. You yelped. You closed your eyes by how suddenly that was.

Skin against skin, huh? To hold you so close that you basically become a part of him.

He just got an idea.

He wrapped his hands around you while you were on top of him, trying your best to not fall into him. All he did was to tease you. His mouth on your chest, kissing and biting your nipples. One of his hands on your ass while the other was rubbing your back. Making you move your hips without even think on him. What he needed was you all needy for him.

And when he finally got you all desperate, he opened his camera, acting all nonchalant. Acting like he does this on a daily basis, like he have you all over him like this.

"You want me that bad?" he was a good actor, or at least that's what he thought.

"Stop playing with me. I need it right now." his heart skipped a beat, and so did Satoru's when he saw the video. The way you looked down at Suguru. The way you moved his pants to let his cock free, almost jumping on it instantly. It was his laughter that made you stop for a moment. You were frustrated, and you made sure to let him know about your feeling by looking angrily at him. He played with you for so long, you can't even count the minutes he played with your pussy. Fingering you so good and then stopped right when you were so close. He did this so many times that you don't trust a single word he says anymore. "You think it's funny?" you finally got his dick inside you. And oh, you're not going to stop until you get to actually cum this time.

"If you wanted me that much you should have said it earlier." he moved his hips forward, to help you. And to help himself.

"Dickhead." you slapped his chest softly. You couldn't listen to his words even if you wanted to. All you did was to move your hips, you needed any kind of friction. Anything that would calm the aching between your legs. Anything that would finally make you cum.

Your hand went between your legs, rubbing your clit, and biting your lip, refusing to let any sounds out that might feed his ego.

"Y/N." he looked in your eyes. He moved your hand away and he started to rub your clit. All you did was to gasp. "Focus. Move your hips like you mean it." this fucker. All he got from you were some little curses you let under your breath and you moving your hips better.

That video ended with you almost cumming. So close that it got Gojo gasping when he saw how fast the video ended. He didn't got to see you cum? The disrespect. The audacity. The idea he just got.

For the first time since you live there, Gojo call you in his room and placed you on his bed. Until now it was your room or any other place around the house. Anywhere but his own bed.

You never thought you'll get to sit in his bed like this. To get to do the forbidden tango in his room.

He got in bed next to you, placing you on his lap nice and cozy, your back pressed against his chest. "Hold this for me, ok?" he handed you his phone.

"What do you want me to do with it?" you asked unsure. You knew he was filming your little escapades for quite some time now, but to hand you the camera himself?

"Film it. Do whatever you want with it. Show me what you want me to see." you got a little unsure there.

"Alright.." you noticed that it was already recording before you thought of something. The camera was facing your face, capturing Gojo behind you. You moved it lower, now facing your chest, not even sure what he wanted to see.

His hands on your hips, slowly getting his dick inside your pussy. That warm thight pussy he loved so much. "Am I doing good?" his hand moved overs yours, moving the camera lower to film how it looked with his cock inside you.

"Make sure to capture everything." Suguru looked at his phone without any words. It didn't matter what Gojo might think of doing next, Geto haves to be the one with the better idea.

And another video was made.

Geto offered to buy the groceries. It was supposed to be Gojo's time this week, and how could he refuse someone else doing his chores for him? And so, Suguru dragged you with him.

The surprise look on Satoru's face to receive an video when you just left half an hour ago. You on top of Suguru in his car, because the dark haired man took Gojo's car for this quick trip. His excuse was that he mistook the keys with his.

He would had expected that video any time, but not today. Not like this. Not when he was took of guard. He couldn't help but look at the screen and turn the volume up.

You're half muffled moans and Geto praising the shit out of you. "Good girl, just like that." and you couldn't help but bounce on him faster. "Keep it slow now, we wouldn't want someone to notice us." oh, but he was actually dying inside for someone to see you two. Both of your roommates hoped for you to get caught.

"Suguru.." you moaned that name so sweetly. Honestly, Satoru was so jealous right now. If he knew sooner, he wouldn't had let someone else do his chores for him. He could have been in that car and fuck you.

He waited for you to come home. He sat right in front of the entrance, waiting for that fucker to appear. He needed to think of something even better. How about fucking you in Suguru's bed? Or making you wear his clothes to make his friend jealous? Even fuck you in them just to prove a point. Bath you in his perfume so you would smell like him. There was so many options.

And he got an even better idea.

He let you rest for that day. No, he let you rest for the rest of that week. Waiting for the perfect day, the perfect moment.

"It's my turn to do the laundry." Geto sighed. "You got anything else left in your rooms? Give it now." Gojo smiled and shook his head.

"I have nothing in my room." you said.

"Me neither."

"Alright then." he waited for Geto to get started with his work, then he dragged you in his room. He was so impatient that he didn't know what to do faster. He was taking your clothes off, his clothes, kissing you, rubbing that pretty pussy so you would get wet faster. He was so impatient that he didn't even prepared you first, the moment you layed on his bed he got in between your legs, forcing his cock inside your pussy. It hurts a little, but it also hurts his pride not being able to outdo his friend.

He's number one. He's the biggest person here.

He got his phone out as soon as he could move better, pressing the record button as fast as he could.

He was thrusting into you, not even once letting you breathe in peace. "You're pussy feels so good." that's all he could say. "Sucking me in like this." what he got in return was a photo of your underwear. A photo where Geto was holding some pairs of panties that he could recognize them in a instant, they were yours.

"I don't think Y/N would mind if I take some of these." Gojo stared at his phone screen. Tsk. He wasn't satisfied with the reaction he got.

"I'll keep the pair that I just took off her." Geto looked displeased at his phone screen. Would his friend be happy if he just barge in there and auto invite himself in? He didn't do that in the end, he already had other things to do. And if he just go there, Gojo would be the winner because that means he gave in.

"Alright, I don't what's going on between you two but I want you to stop." you went the next day in the kitchen, ready to put an end to this endless fighting of theirs. "I know you've been filming and sending the videos to one another, and I want this to end because this is going nowhere." you sighed. "If you want photos that much you should have asked me instead of fighting."

"You'll send me pictures of you if we stop fighting?" Gojo asked like he didn't heard what you just said. He ignored everything until you said that last sentence.

"That's not what I said."

"You said that you would." Geto totally listened to you, but again, he only understands what he wants.

"Did you even listen to me?"

"So, if we get along again and we stop filming you'll do it?" you could only sigh. These guys were so delusional that you couldn't even talk to them like normal people.

"Alright." you didn't even tried anymore, giving up was the best option.

"Is that an yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's good because we weren't fighting to begin with." Geto's words left you in disbelief. Huh?

"Ye, we just like to show what we're doing. Nothing much." Gojo said nonchalantly.

"Why didn't you said that earlier?"

"I was waiting for you to finish talking."

"Alright, so. For starter I want to get photos of your boobies. Some videos of you touching yourself here and there to make my day going when I'm tired. I want that pussy fully on display." Gojo already started a list.

"You could send me a picture right now." Geto's words didn't helped the situation.

"Show me what nudes you have in your phone." Satoru got next to you, trying to see your phone and what's in there.

It was your fault for thinking they're normal, because they're not, not at all.

Fortunately for you, your days became more peaceful. You kept your words to send them some pics now and then, and they stopped competing with each other. Oh, and don't think that you could send them the same picture, because they would get mad.

You hated there, but you gotta learn how to live with it, because you were also receiving stuff from them. A dick pic whenever they missed you, even some videos of them touching themselves moaning your name. It was just crazy. It never fails to make your jaw drop.

But your days came back to normal, no? Whatever normal even means anyway.

You woke up on another peaceful morning, because it was quiet and no one disturbed your sleep. You got up from your bed and went in the kitchen. Just wanting to feel their company there, maybe exchange some small talk and then fall asleep since you feel rather tired and lonely. Instead, you saw your house mates with another guy. A tall blonde guy who looked older than both of them.

You didn't know what to say, you just stood there trying to think of your next move. Go back to your room, it was none of your business, you shall not get involved.

"Oh? I didn't know you're up." the white haired man said before you could go back to bed.

"Good morning." Suguru greeted you, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Good morning." you quietly said.

"Don't go just now. Come here." can you get a break? You did as he said, you went and sat down at the table at your usual spot. "Y/N, this is Nanami." Gojo said.

"Nice to meet you." you didn't know what to do.

"Nanami, this is our sweet Y/N." Satoru said it with this weird smile on his face. You had no idea what was going on in his head. Can he not embarrass you for once? You and Nanami sighed at the same time.

"I'm sorry for him. He usually behaves like this so I have no excuse." you said in Gojo's behalf.

"I don't expect much from him anyway." you studied the blonde a little. The expensive watch that was on his wrist, and the nice fancy shirt he had on. He had big shoulders, his muscles could be seen even through his clothes. His posture was flawless, everything about his screamed perfection. You didn't mean to stare, but he was definitely eye catching.

Your housemates were watching you. Who's fault was it for getting Kento here? They should have thought of how you'll react first.

They're jealous again.

They just managed to calm themselves and now it's starting again. This again, this again and again. Can they ever take a break?

Was this what you wanted? A guy like him? What's so perfect about Nanami, huh? Was it how he present himself? He looks tired, like he haven't slept in who knows how long. And yet, that didn't stopped him from dressing like usually or doing what he's supposed to do.

He looks like he was working a 9 to 5, and would treat you right. He looks like he would buy you flowers on a daily basis. He looks like he would remember all those small dates where it supposed to be an anniversary or someone's birthday. He looked like he was there to stay and put a ring on your finger. Was this what you wanted? A husband who would help you raise the kids properly?

Both Gojo and Geto gasped at the same time, they did a big mistake.

"Y/N, no." Satoru finally said something when he came back to reality. He haves to do something now so you won't end up married. Especially to Nanami, he looked like he would be perfect, that's what scares him the most.

"Y/N, go to sleep. It's too early for you." you looked confused at both of them. They told you stay there in the first place.

"Huh?" you looked at them in disbelief.

"Just go."

"Alright..?" you got up from your seat and went back to your room. What a bunch of weirdos.

That day, they promised to become just like the enemy, so that way you won't be impressed by some random fucker out there.

Their plan would fail so miserable, like always, but you can't do shit about it. It's not like you can figure their next move to stop them.

You walked out your room to get something to drink, only to be welcomed by them dressed like they were going to a job interview.

You looked at them, blinked a few times then looked behind you. No cameras or anything, or at least you can't see it. Was this some kind of prank? Was it some kind of special day today?

"You're speechless by how handsome I look, huh?" you blinked a few times. "No need to be shy, admire me as much as you need." Gojo striked a few poses.

"What's the occasion?" you asked getting closer to them.

"I always dress like this." the way Suguru lied with a straight face.

"You do? This is the first time I see you like this." you fixed Gojo's tie. "Do I need to wear a dress or something?"

You got dragged in your room and placed on the bed while they were looking in your closet. They put their hands on everything they saw, bras, panties and anything they could find. It didn't matter. If they see it, they'll get their hands on it.

"So what are we doing?" you asked.

"Playing dress up, isn't it obvious?" Gojo got something in his hands and got closer to your bed. "Hands up." he took your shirt off.

"I don't really see anything for you to try." Geto was still looking through your clothes.

"Let me get those down for you." Satoru took your pants off. His hands traveling back to your panties, wanting to take those off too.

"These stays on."

"Nuh uhh." he tried dragging your panties down, only for you to try to pull them up.

"Let me do it." you tried to protest.

"No." he slapped your hand. "We're playing dress up. Get those off and let me choose another pair for you." you gasped at his actions. Did he really just slapped your hand away?

"Satoru." Geto said something, making you to breathe reassured. "Move away. I'll do it." these fuckers. What could you expect.

"Alright, alright! I'll take them off myself." their eyes on you, you got their full attention. You raised your hips and with a simple move you took your panties off. Your actions will always work like magic on them. The way they're so captivated by such a simple movement.

"Put them back on." Satoru said, his eyes still on your skin. The scene from earlier replaying in his mind over and over again.

"You told me to take them off. Why would I have to put them back on?" you could only complain because of how childish this situation was.

Geto got on his knees in front of you, picking the small material that you just took off. "Get up." he commanded.

Can they stop playing with you for at least a moment? You did as he said tho, you got up and you couldn't do much since your way was blocked by the dark haired man. A kiss placed on your lower stomach before he put your underwear back on you. Your hands were on his shoulders, trying to hold yourself from falling.

"Not fair." Satoru dragged you back on your bed. Your back pressed against the blanket and Gojo in between your legs. He got your panties in between his teeth, slowly dragging them down and tossing it somewhere around the room.

"What got into you two again?" it was something sinister about how they look at you. Their eyes dark and filled with some kind of lust you didn't saw it before. It was normal for you to be horny, it was normal for them too, but now it was different. You had no idea if your insides would be rearranged or you'll have the sweetest time of your life. It scared you.

Gojo was breathing against your pussy, hot breath touching your skin over and over. It made you squirm a little. While Geto's hand went through your hair, moving it from your face. He sat down next to your head, his thumb slowly getting in your mouth, giving you something to occupy yourself with.

"Guys?" their silence was scaring you. All you hoped was that you could still walk tomorrow.

Satoru finally got his face in your pussy, he was practically making out with it. Never giving you a break from the start.

"Eyes up on me." Geto kept reminding you. You couldn't even close your eyes, because if you blinked too fast or too long, he also didn't like that.

You could feel Gojo's long fingers getting inside you. Moving them in and out of you for a moment, making you more wet than you already were. Then he started to curl them, instantly making your body shake.

One side was satisfied with your reactions, the other one not so much.

"Focusm" Suguru wanted you to only look at him. His hand now in your hair, keeping you in place so couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Y/N, look at me." Satoru said your name, placing a kiss on your clit before he started devouring it. Your back arches. Suguru gulped at your fucked up expression. It was cute, no, it was in so many ways that he can't describe it. You were breath taking, now and at any other time of the day, every position and anything you might do from any angle. He wanted to fuck you and see more. He was so close on pushing Gojo away and fuck you the way you deserve it.

Gojo didn't looked happy at the way his friend kept your attention all to himself. "Say my name." it was a beg, it was a request. It sounded like anything but demanding. He sounded needy. He needed to hear you praise him, tell him how good he makes you feel and move your hand in his hair.

"Look at me." Suguru kept demanding the same thing over and over again. It didn't matter who's name you said as long as you're only focused on him, right? That means he won.

However, you realized they're doing it again. That useless fighting. You don't want only one of them, you wanted both. A little bit of what they have to offer you. Whatever they wanted to show you, you'll accept it.

They acted like this ever since Nanami was there. They started acting like this out of jealousy.

You wanted to punish them somehow. It was for the useless things they're thinking about.

You opened your mouth, you wanted to say something, yet no word got out your mouth. What if you said another person name. Someone who's not in the room at the moment. Someone who's not usually here at all. Your eyes were sparkling thinking of ways of torturing them, Geto could see that. Those eyes that looked so lovingly now full of fireworks and that dumb smile you had on your face.

Think of him, look at him. Only see him. Say how much you wanted him. Him and him only. What made you full of life if it wasn't him?

You had to do it. You had to punish them for being selfish again. Yet you couldn't. No matter how much you would love to see their reactions, you knew you were digging your own grave. It's you in the end who will suffer for anything they might deserve.

What if you don't say anything at all? What if you keep your voice to yourself and not let them hear you at all. That's what the silent treatment is after all, no? And so you did, you bite your lower lip and put a hand over your mouth.

Geto could only laugh, thinking that you're afraid someone might hear you. No one besides them would hear a thing, he could reassure that. He moved your hand gently, hopping you'll understand him without a word needed. Yet you still refused to let out any kind of noise. "No one will hear you. So don't worry."

"I know." that's the only words you said. You knew and yet you still do it?

"Maybe it's because of you. Look the other way." Gojo said, his hands around your thighs dragging you closer to him.

"It's actually because of you." Geto said, getting more close to you. You didn't said anything. And this only gave them the wrong idea.

They were trying to imitate the enemy, so, maybe it was their clothes? Or maybe the blonde was still in your head and you were trying to think of him? It infuriats them. They only wants your attention, the way you looked at Nanami so curious, so full of questions. You don't look like that at them.

Gojo got up from between your legs and Geto dragged you up in his lap.

"Why you're being a bad girl? Hm?" Suguru's low voice purred into your ear, so close, it gave you chills.

"Are we not enough? What do you want more." you were sandwiched between them, your back pressed on Geto's chest while Gojo was in front of you, getting his body closer to you with each second passes. Your legs were wrapped around Satoru, mostly because he placed them like this, to make sure to have access to you as much as he could. While Suguru's arms were also wrapped around you, keeping you firmly against him, not letting you move an inch.

You still refused to say a thing even if you had no idea what they're talking about. You just got tired of their games, those stupid thoughts of theirs that made your head spin. You couldn't figure out what was going on with them, why were they like this. What made them like this.

"Say something." Satoru's voice had so many emotions in it. Rage, disappointment. Sadness? It was complicated, yet it made your pussy drip.

"Y/N, do you want to see me mad?" Suguru got one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. You were like a doll in their hands. Standing there without doing much. It was supposed to be your punishment for them, for fucking with your life like this when they could talk everything out. But now you want to back down. Mostly because you were feeling scared. Their eyes were scary, the roughness in their hands scared you. How they're squeezing places around your body so hard that it might leave a bruise, and how quiet they became.

Should you apologize? You had no idea. Was it too late to say something?

You opened your mouth, eyes on you for your next move. Yet you still didn't say a thing. You close your mouth and looked away. If they're getting on your nerves you'll definitely say someone else's name to piss them off.

Are you not allowed to get mad? Do you have no right to do so? They did it with their own hands. You can put them in place however you want, whenever you wanted. No, in fact, you'll give them some time to think about this, about how they act in general. Sure, you have no problem with them being themselves, you love it. But it was until some certain point where you would tolerate their behavior.

You put your palms on the bed trying to get up somehow. That action itself made them go feral in the worst way possible. Why are you doing this to them? Their hearts almost stopped working.

"Don't do this, come on." no matter how mad you might be, their pleas sounded like a sweet melody. It was the way they're melting in your arms. Satoru's voice sounded broken when he spoke. You're not even doing much, yet it affects them so much. Both of them were weak for you, you got them on their knees trying to get your attention. Of course they would get mad if another is trying to get in.

You didn't said anything, only looking at them, those big eyes again, it was like the first time you interacted with them. So curious about your surroundings. You looked up at Suguru, and then looked at Satoru, who were looking at you trying to figure out what in the world is going on in your head.

"Say something." Geto's voice was so soft, even if he was angry at you. His hand went lower on your body, caressing your soft skin, somehow hoping that you'll warm up. Maybe you wanted more of their attention? "It's your fault." Suguru looked at Gojo.

"Me? You were the one who was like, look at me. Maybe she got enough of your ass." Satoru tried to imitate Geto's voice.

"Me? It's you. You started this." you tried to not laugh. You can't give up yet, all you wanted was to hear them say that they're sorry, or anything that shows that they realized their mistake, nothing more. But they're refusing to believe it's their fault.

"Alright, stop." you sighed softly. "Think about what you both did." they're still thinking about how you might be seeing another, forgetting about them. Moving out of this place and leaving them to be as miserable as they used to be, all sad and not even happy to be back home, spend all their time outside just to forget about their loneliness.

How dare you play with their feelings? For once in their lifetime they're serious about something and you're just toying with them? Gojo got his hands on your hips, dragging your ass on him, positioning himself after he undid his belt. With a simple movement, his cock was out his pants. Now he was getting in front of your entrance, ready to get inside. Why did you looked surprise, huh. "Why don't you think about what you did?" he's trying to imitate your words, like you're the bad guy.

You gasped when he pushed himself inside you all the way in with a single move, if he could at least give you an warning. Geto got your face in his hand, making you look up at him. "Inside voice. Don't let a single word out." this was ridiculous. What were they even thinking?

You frown, you didn't know what to say or do. You had them in your palm, right? Why were they like this then? This wasn't your plan. All you wanted was for them to think about their actions.

You wanted both of them, you gave your time to both of them. It wasn't only one who received your attention, it was both. You didn't let a single one feel left out, and they still dare to think that you're selfish.

"Bad boys." you said out of breath, trying to degrade them somehow.

"Oh yeah?" Satoru could only laugh. "I can show you how bad I really am."

"Sweetie, you have no idea what you're talking about." Geto felt amused by your words. They were so considered of you until now, or they tried. Sure, it might have not work all the time since they forget halfway through that's not only about them. But they tried, no? It was improvement in a way or another.

Gojo's hands were gripping your hips, moving in and out. The friction was overwhelming. You wanted to change the position, it was uncomfortable. You don't know where to even look when they were squeezing you between them.

Your hands were shaking, you didn't know where to put them since both of them annoyed you. You wanted to keep them to yourself, yet you were dying to do something.

You closed your eyes, grabbing your own thighs and leaving red marks on them from your nails, being around them was so stressful.

You bite your lower lip, trying your best to stay put it place. A few tears went down your face, the way Gojo was fucking into you was just.. Just. You can't even say words. "Cry for me. Let me hear that voice." Satoru's face went to your shoulder, trying to rest against it.

"Keep that voice inside." Geto was trying to push Gojo away. Wanting to tournament you for a little longer.

"Don't listen to him." the white haired man was out of breath, voice so low that it gave you chills. "Open your eyes, look at me."

Suguru's hand went under your chin, raising it to make you look at him. "Look at me." his voice sounded so soft compared to his thoughts and actions. You kept your eyes closed, wanting only to focus on their voices, on how they breathe.

"Fuck." Gojo said out of breath. He bite into your shoulder, making you groan for a moment.

Then a sudden thought went through Geto's head. He could do something so funny right now, something that could help you feel better, or not. It all depends on your performance. So, his hand traveled to your pussy, rubbing your clit in small circles and making your walls squeeze Satoru's dick. Couldn't they just act like this and stop being fuckers?

Without even thinking, one of your hands went of Gojo's shoulder while the other grabbed Geto's arm. You were shaking, you were biting your lip and you were so close. Satoru could feel that, and Suguru realized what was going on by your actions, you look desperate only when your about to cum.

Now, this is where was the funny part, at least for Geto. He dragged his hand back, leaving you with less friction than before. But that only caught Gojo's attention who understood what was going on without a single word needed. So, now you were left all alone without any kind of pleasure or friction, since even the white haired guy got out of you, leaving you there panting heavily and trying to understand what was going on. This left a bad feeling in your stomach, it left you all confused and trying to regain your conscious, your brain couldn't work properly.

"Why do you look so disappointed?" they were mocking you, you could feel it by the tone of their voices.

"Were you close?" so painfully close. That would have been a good orgasm if they didn't stopped.

Suddenly, you woke up being turned around, ass in the air and face pressed against your blanket. "Up." Satoru moved in front of you, making you rest your body weight on your arms.

"Be a good girl and you might cum this time." Suguru was behind you, placing a slap on your ass before he pushed his cock inside you.

You could feel a hand behind your neck, dragging your face up to look at the white haired man. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips for a moment before he too pushed his dick inside your mouth. They loved stuffing you good, didn't they? The way you struggle to take them, and yet doing so good.

Maybe it was your fault too, for ending up like this. You knew you shouldn't have fucked around with them, but you always go back, asking for more and letting them do whatever they wanted with you. Plus, you feel so good, like, so so good. It was impossible to hold back around you.

That's why they keep pushing more of them inside of you, trying to make you take more. Because you, yourself are greedy for more. You always end up begging for more, so how could they not give you more?

"Relax." Suguru said as he kept feeling you clenching around him, making him groan as one of his hands was traveling around your body.

But how could you relax? You were so close, and knowing them, they might deny you again. You wanted to cum, you needed this orgasm and if they're edging you again you swear you will leave through that door and find somebody who will give you what you want. They seemed to enjoy this, so why couldn't you do as well?

Your hand went to the one behind you, dragging him closer and making sure he stays there. Just a little more, it was so close. You might as well start crying because of how it was feeling.

A thing that they loved more than edging you over your limits was seeing you cum. It was something about the way you look when you're all fucked up. So it wasn't surprising when they dropped everything they were doing and focused on you, because they too know this would be a big one.

You woke up with your face against the bed sheets, hands all over you once again and all kind of words being whispered in your ear, about how good you're doing. How you'll get a lot more after this, how they'll make you cum again and again, for as long as you want. Well, you both know that some of those were lies, because it was more about until when they want this to continue.

Your cries were satisfying, and they aren't even afraid to admit that. How you grip the sheets underneath you, or how you moved your hand on Satoru, holding into him as you came, leaving a big mess on the bed as your body juices came out.

They both looked at you, not believing what they just saw. "Did you just squirted?" the white haired man said, whistling at the view you're giving him.

"I'm sure she can do it again, can't she?" that was more than enough to know that it would be a long day. You doub you'll be able to get out of bed any time soon, and who knows, maybe it won't be as bad as you think.

[softly-sirius]

Are the Bear Staff Jacked and Kind? (Gn)

Currently on shift: Carmen, Luca, Richie, Sweeps, Tina, Sydney, Fak, Mikey, Marcus

TW: Lifting, mentions of weight, I kept this as gender-neutral as possible and tried to stay away from describing the reader's body type or weight, but pls reach out if there's any way I can make this more inclusive or you see anything that is upsetting <3

Thank you @laurenjbb for requesting this, I hope I did it justice! Also thanks to the person who pointed out I was missing Mikey :)

Carmen:

You had to goad him into

If you straight up ask he’s saying no, but if you say he’s just not strong enough and scared to drop you he is manhandling you sooo fast.

A smug little grin on his face as he takes a moment to cope a feel of your plush thighs. 

“You were saying baby” 

You would boast about how strong he is all-day

Taking any chance to squeeze at his arms (and maybe nibble on them a little bit)

He’d be so blushy at the end of the day

Luca:

As soon as Luca sees the first TikTok, he waits for you to bring it up. You’re a sucker for these TikTok trends and he’s lost track of how many you’ve asked him to try out

So he waits

And waits

And waits

And what the hell why are you not asking him to lift you up?

He wonders if you haven’t seen it yet, but he catches you scrolling through the videos on your phone in bed, so he knows that can’t be it.

What if you think he can’t lift you? 

He’s not having that, not at all. 

He starts doing ‘casual’ push-ups in the bedroom

Lifting as many heavy things in his arms at once as possible

Not so subtly flexing his arms every time he catches you looking. 

Eventually, he just gives up and he sets it up himself, hiding his phone on the kitchen counter and asking you to come and taste test something. 

You stand in front of him, searching the counter and finding nothing there for you to taste. 

Before you can question it, his hands are on you and he’s lifting you up and up until you are sat on his shoulder, shrieking.

“LUCA!” You’d yell, before you realise exactly what he’s been doing, also realising what all of his weird behaviour has been about. 

He watches that video on a loop whenever he misses you, bc he loves hearing your giggle

Richie:

I’m so sorry, but no matter how much you beg and ask there is no chance he is lifting you like that

He is an old man and he will break his back, no matter your size it’s not happening

He won't lift Eva onto his shoulders anymore either

If you goad him about it, you will be called a brat and you will be in for it later

Lowkey turned on whenever you call him your old man

Call him your anything and he’s weak in his old man knees

If this takes place after forks he might let you try to lift him over your shoulder

If you succeed (after forks) he is so excited and gets you to do it again and again in front of everyone. 

Smugly talking about how strong his fucking s/o is

But makes you lift so much heavy shit from now on

Fak:

Fak is the one who wants to do it, might not even ask, he’ll just grab you by the waist and hoist you up

Look people might disagree but you think your man is a beefcake, he’s hauling shit around all day!

His strength is not appreciated enough

His grip is iron-tight on your thighs to keep you stable 

You’re giggling on his shoulder, stealing his hat and putting it on your head so you can get a hold of his hair

He’ll just walk around with you on his shoulder for a while, just because he can

Sweeps:

Did he just hear a thud? 

You get on his shoulder and your head hits the ceiling

Might be taking you to urgent care, but he’s still pretty proud of himself

Sydney:

You both try and lift each other grappling at each other's waists

Too bad Sydney has the worst sense of balance known to man because whether she’s lifting or being lifted you both end up on the floor. 

Wants to keep trying because she swears she’ll manage it this time

Swears she won’t lean too far backwards this time 

Swears she won’t lift you too far over her shoulder this time so you fall right off

Swears she won’t spin around and take out the lamp this time

You spend the next weekend looking for a new lamp

Mikey:

Have you seen this man?

No matter what you weigh, even if you’re Mikey carbon copy in stature this man can lift you like it is nothing

Not only will he lift you onto his shoulder like that if you ask

He’s lifting you every which way, just to show he can 

Just to get you laughing and smiling

Piggyback ride, check

Princess carry, check

Bend over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, check

Pushed up against the wall, wrists above your head, check

Marcus:

How your sweet, loving partner got so ripped when he eats so many sugared treats you’ll never understand 

Can’t say you don’t appreciate it though

I feel like Marcus does this all the time already

Like let's be real, Marcus is probably the best boyfriend you could have

He rarely brings his work shit home and if he does it’s because he knows how much better you will make him feel about it all

So if doing some little lifting trend makes you happy, he’s all for it

I think along with Luca, Marcus is the only other one who sees these trends 

Is probably the only one willing to let you upload videos of the two 

Might ask you to do the trend together before you do, just to see your excited little grin

You swear he is your dream boy jacked a kind and remind him off it all night with sweet kisses and wandering hands

Tina 

If you ask she gives you The Look

Still Hungry? Here is our Menu:

Would you love me if I was a worm?

Would you peel my orange?

Will you watch Barbie with me?

Wiping off their kisses

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

how it is, how it was, how it has to be

Ao3 | 2.8k Words | Darlin's POV

This was not your fault. That was the truth you kept repeating to yourself, the grounding thought that swirled in your addled brain to keep you from coming out of your skin entirely. No matter how D.U.M.P. spun this, no matter what the vamps said when they were questioned, you knew that it wasn’t your fault.

__

Darlin' and Angel have a run in with some vampires. They get arrested. David comes running to help.

TW: Blood and injury, violence, death (not a main character, a random vampire), DUMP sucks and makes this way harder than it should be, poor practices by law enforcement, trauma responses.

This was not your fault. That was the truth you kept repeating to yourself, the grounding thought that swirled in your addled brain to keep you from coming out of your skin entirely. No matter how D.U.M.P. spun this, no matter what the vamps said when they were questioned, you knew that it wasn’t your fault. 

You also happened to have the Alpha-Mate of the Shaw Pack to back you up, which lent you a bit of credibility. You wouldn’t blame any official who had glanced at your cinder block of a file for not believing a word that came out of your mouth. You’d all but made a career out of lying to cops and enforcers, and you weren’t exactly inclined to stop that now, even as Sam attempted to tame you. 

You’d been home for three months. David had known for two and a half. Slowly but surely, the pack had folded you back into itself. You felt like you were circling yourself like a buzzard, on the downdraft, landing on the carcass of the person you used to be. You couldn’t escape the kid you’d been when you were a Shaw. You couldn’t help but see that kid in the mirror every day, in the ugly things you’d done with Quinn, to Quinn. 

People didn’t change, not really. And people weren’t good. 

That was why David’s mate made you so fucking nervous. Everything about them set your nerves on edge. You met them for the first time at the pack meeting where David all but forced you to spill your guts. So frayed, so exposed, their introduction was about as comforting of a thing as you could imagine at the time. 

“Hey.” They’d said, smiling at you like you were an old friend they were relieved to see again. “Come on. Let’s get  burgers or something. I’m starving.” 

That was how it had been with them ever since, an instant familiarity, friendship at first sight. People weren’t good, but they were. You didn’t trust people like that. You didn’t trust things that felt that good that fast. 

They were so comfortable with you so fast that it took a solid two weeks before you’d learned their name. David referred to them almost exclusively as his mate, the title heavy and purposeful. They were small. They looked weak. To essentially any empowered person looking in at the pack, they were an easy target. So he named their title, spoke their status as often as he drew breath, hovered his big hands over them everywhere they went. 

So it didn’t surprise you when the others called them stupid nicknames like ‘Little Alpha,’ and ‘Little Shaw’ whenever strangers were around. Everybody in the pack telegraphed their position, let outsiders know exactly who they would have to answer to if the Alpha-Mate was touched. You’d taken to, in the few months you’d known them, calling them simply ‘Little.’ 

Little had a few tricks up their sleeve. They’d caught you off guard that night when, after dragging you out to a club for a few drinks and a dance, they’d decked a vampire directly in the jaw with a mean right hook. You heard their knuckles crack and break when they did it, but even if it didn’t hurt the asshole, it certainly stunned him. 

You’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop for weeks. Quinn had friends. Friends who owed him favors. Friends who were willing to interrupt your night in dingy back alleys, away from unempowered eyes. Friends who were willing to put their hands on David Shaw’s Mate to get you to comply. 

It wasn’t your fault. They had touched your Alpha-Mate, and they had to pay the price. You circled yourself like a buzzard, and the corpse of the reckless, destructive kid you had been now rotted under your talons. You’d never had the sense or the charisma to talk your way out of a situation like that. For you, the only way out was through. 

It was just your luck that an off-duty Enforcer was walking home and passed your clandestine ally just in time to see you shift. It wasn’t a fair fight, three to one, but you would have gotten a lot further if he hadn’t called down the alley for everybody to freeze. 

When the law showed up, it tended to make people desperate. You saw the shift in one of the vamps’ faces from rehearsed cruelty to panic. He was closer to Little than to you, and his fangs cut into the paper-thin skin of their throat like a knife into butter. 

Dammit. You had to kill that guy. And in front of an Enforcer too. 

By the time he broke the fight up, you’d taken a bit more than your share of hits. One vamp was ashed and two were nearing it quickly. Little was on the ground after that first bite, twisting in pain and clutching the gnarly bite on the side of their neck. If they didn’t see a healer soon, they’d scar. They’d die. 

You shifted back, clothes torn and bloodied as soon as they settled over your body. You were extending your hands to try and help (how the fuck you didn’t know, you really wished Sam were there), when a pair of dampening cuffs clicked into place over your wrists. 

You’d done what you could, through spitting venom and curses at anybody who touched you or Little, to insist that somebody heal them. You were subsequently assured by every person who saw you through transport, processing, and eventually into the dingy, tiny holding cell you found yourself in now, that that was somebody else’s responsibility. 

That would have been fine if they had taken your cuffs off. You could at least try to heal them yourself. But they hadn’t. 

You could have started raising even more hell if they hadn’t shuffled the two surviving vampires into the same holding cell as you, as if attempting to manifest a brawl. Instead, you had to focus what little energy you had left on guarding Little. 

You crouched over them as you twisted your arms, pinned behind your back, and tried to gauge your range of movement. It wasn’t much, and the shoulder that you’d dislocated in high school sang with dull, familiar pain. 

You needed your arms in front of you. The vamps were getting their bearings. Their wounds were healing. Their eyes shone like predator’s in the low light, training on you. On them. 

When you popped your shoulder out of its socket, it gave you just enough room to slip your bound wrists under your feet. You huffed as the pain washed over you. You tugged Little up and wrapped your arms around them awkwardly so that you could apply pressure to their throat with one hand and dragged them back until you were pressed into the far corner of the cell. From there, you could see every inch of the space, could track any attack before it came. 

They would call David. They would have to, it was in your record that you were a member of the Shaw pack, not to mention the fact that they would know by now they had the Pack’s Alpha-Mate in custody, unconscious though they be. David wouldn’t let you sit for long. 

Minutes ticked by like molasses. You watched, crouched in the corner and bleeding steadily into the concrete, as the shift changed. Your knees ached from your unchanging position. Your shoulder pulsed with pain. 

It wasn’t David who came. It was Milo’s mate. You had known the Investigator for a while, had brushed shoulders with them a handful of times before you broke from the pack. You’d stayed away from them since coming back to town. The last thing you needed as a Department official sticking their nose into your business. They were good people, sure, Milo wouldn’t have picked them otherwise, but that didn’t mean they weren’t mandated to report the things you had in store for Quinn and his fucked up friends. 

Their sharp eyes scanned the holding cell for just a moment before they landed on you and went wide. You saw them gasp a curse before turning to the attendant and sharing some sharp, direct words. They marched over to the bars, but the attendant didn’t follow. Their brow screwed up in frustration. 

“Have you been seen by a healer?” They asked sharply, looking you over. Clearly you had not. They pursed their lips. A high, angry flush had overtaken their features. They turned back to the door and poked their head out of it, speaking quickly with whoever was waiting there for them. “Hey, that’s fine!” You heard them snap, their voice raising. “But when the Alpha gets here, it’s your ass!” They cast their gaze back over their shoulder, face twisting up in something you couldn’t identify.

They slipped back through the door, still shouting, and left you alone with the attendant and the vamps. 

It had been a few hours since you’d been tossed in the cell. Your energy and stamina had waned, but it had given the two vamps in the corner a chance to heal. After the Investigator’s visit, they started getting bolder. 

You couldn’t shift, but you could growl. You could jerk at them, bare teeth. You could ward off any attempt to get close with a sharp, predatory warning. They didn’t dare get too close. The memory of their friend’s ash must have clung to the back of their throats. You reminded them how easy it had been for you, voice tinged with animal hunger, to tear their friend to pieces. 

It took another half hour for the door to open again, and when it did, the air in the room changed. You were tired. You had been bleeding steadily from a smattering of wounds across your side and neck. Your wolf was crushed down in your chest by the cuffs, core straining to break free but unable. But as soon as the door opened, energy surged through you. The prey animal inside of you knew a predator when it came close, and it flooded your body with adrenaline in preparation for its attack. 

David Shaw stepped one foot into the room, his dark eyes sweeping over you, over his mate, over the vampires in the corner. You met his gaze, your vision hazy. You opened your mouth to say something, to call out his name, to tell him that this was not your fault. He held up a hand, a shaking finger and stopped you. He stepped back out of the door. Rage seethed off of him in waves. Your core responded, coiling back, away, your body bending and turning away in submission. You couldn’t help it, just like you couldn’t help baring your teeth when you were angry, or shifting when you were frightened. You hated how that made you look to the vampires in the cell with you, who snickered and eyed you, daring to inch closer as you cowered. You curled over David’s mate protectively, their little form shivering against you as you got ready to defend your little corner. 

There was shouting from outside of the door. Something crashed into the wall. You flinched violently, the wounds in your neck and side tearing open, weeping fresh blood. You hissed and flashed teeth, watched as the eyes of both vampires in the cell went with and locked on you. 

“Come a little closer, puppy,” one of them dared, moving closer. His face was twisted with hunger. You had made them bleed. They had had to heal. They would be hungry. “I just wanna bite.” 

A hand connected with your shoulder at the same moment the door slammed open. David’s form cut through the bright, fluorescent light from outside the holding room, casting a heaving shadow across the floor. Everybody froze. 

The Enforcer that had arrested you stepped out from behind him, his shirt wrinkled and a bruise beginning to blossom on his cheek. He motioned and the attendant jumped to obey. The door was opened. 

David entered the cell and every person in it crowded themselves against the wall, you included. You tightened your arms around Little, curled them into your chest, your eyes cast down and away from David’s face. All you could do, all your mind could hold on to was that you had to keep them safe. 

David’s hands were big and warm and gentle when they found you. One slipped to the back of your neck, holding your head where it was, blocking the wounds on your neck from view of the vampires in the cell. The other found his Mate, pushed their hair back from their face, gently stroked their cheek as he roused them. 

“Come on,” he said softly. It was still an order and your body still jolted to obey. He slowly extracted them from your arms, cardled them against his chest as he rose. You followed, even as your knees ached and threatened to buckle. You followed as he stepped out of the cell, his head high, his eyes cutting into the vampires in the corner. So big and brave when they had you injured and defenseless, now cowering back with their tails tucked. 

You managed to hold yourself up until the door was closed behind you. David stopped in the processing room, where the Investigator was waiting. He bent his knees, turned Little in his arms until they could reach. You watched as they pumped healing magic into them. They stirred, face pinched in pain, before settling back into David’s chest. They looked so serene in his arms, when even unconscious they had been tense in yours. 

The Investigator nodded as they finished with Little, turning to you. They unlocked your cuffs, and caught your shoulder as you threatened to double over. Your magic surged back through you as your core woke up, and your bones and muscles moved under your skin, threatening to shift. 

David’s presence pressed into your side. His voice cut through the buzz in your ears, quiet, concise orders. Do not shift. You’re safe. You don’t have to fight. Focus on me. 

Your core relaxed at his order, at his touch, as his presence grounding you in the present. Cool, thin hands snaked over the wound on your throat. You jerked back, slammed your dislocated shoulder into the wall on accident. 

“No!” You barked, your gut twisting. The Investigator stepped back, hands raised, smeared with blood. “No. I’ll… I’ll wait for Sam.” David said your name, low and in warning. If he ordered that you let them heal you, you wouldn’t have a choice. You flashed your eyes up to his. A high, pleading whine escaped from your throat. You felt pathetic. 

David didn’t say anything else. The Investigator hovered by your side as David started leading you to the parking lot.

David had to help you climb into his truck, his hands firm on your waist as you slid into the back seat. You huffed, embarrassed, and scooted across the leather seat as David lifted Little in after you. He tucked them into your side, his gaze flicking to yours for just a moment before he closed the door. He shared a few quick words with the Investigator, too muffled by the car door to make out. You watched as he dipped, bent his back and brought his hand up to cup the nape of their neck, pressing their foreheads together for a moment before they turned back to the building and he hopped into the driver’s seat. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” You said softly, about halfway through the drive back to the Shaw’s house. David’s dark eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror. You looked away, unable to meet them. 

“I know.” He said softly. Your heart stuttered in your chest. “I got the report. You didn’t do anything until they touched my Mate.” 

“The one who bit them is dead.” You supplied, like that bit of information was a peace offering. A deep, satisfied growl cut through the cabin of the truck. The vibrations of it shook loose the tension in your body. You relaxed, just a bit, rested your head against Little’s where it rested on your shoulder. “I made sure of it.” 

“Thank you.” He said it so softly you almost missed it as your consciousness drifted. You would be at David’s soon, and he would call Sam and take care of the bite wounds and your shoulder. Little was safe, tucked against your side. David was there. There wasn’t anything else for you to worry about. Your body caught up with you. You felt like shit. You hadn't felt like this since Sam had saved your life. 

You circled and circled, always the same, no matter how much time had passed. 

“Go to sleep, Troublemaker.” David’s voice cut through your spiral. “I’ve got you.” 

You couldn’t help but obey.

[edward-munson]

i'm right here - E.M. * Chapter Three

Warning: angst, slight mention of smut (MDI), mentions of the Upside Down, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem! Harrington reader

Word count: 6.4k

Previous Chapter

⋆˚✿˖°

You feel Eddie delicately hovering above you, one hand is cupping the side of your jawline, while the other one he uses to hold your waist. You're lying on his bed, both of you had just watched a movie, while eating some snacks and drinking wine. He rubs his thumb against your lower lip, licking his own when he notices how pink it looks under the moonlight.

His breath picks up when he decides to ghost his lips over yours, moving ever so slowly. You can't help but tug on his frizzy curly hair, it's fluffy and it feels nice to touch. When you feel his gentle peck, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It starts slow, and it burns your body.

The heat between your legs starts to grow as soon as he moves his hand from your waist and rests it over your thigh. His breath fans your mouth when he opens his mouth to finally kiss you. His tongue is hot, and it still tastes like the wine he was drinking. You grip the back of his hair and he hisses to your touch, groping and humping you. His hand starts to roam through your exposed skin, and it's inches from touching your heat.

Your underwear starts to bother you and you let out a raspy groan when both of your tongues finally touch. He moans under his breath and his crotch is almost touching against yours. Eddie shifts above you and finally uses one of his ringed fingers to feel your warmth and how wet you are under him.

It's the loud gasp that startles you from your dream, and you wake up feeling dizzy. It was just a dream.

"Shit" You mumble as you feel your heart racing. Your hands are trembling and you feel the sweat stream from your neck down to your chest.

Your legs are opened and you're definitely soaked. It felt so real, you could've sworn he was really there, touching you. As you get up from your bed, you go to the bathroom and wash up your face. This could help a little after that dream. You look at yourself in the mirror and it's like you just had sex. But you didn't, and it frustrates you that now you've gotten to the point of thinking about him even when you're dreaming.

After the gathering a few days ago at your house, you and Eddie weren't being awkward to each other anymore. You would have a small conversation during the class, and when you were sitting together during the breaks. He still seemed a little sad because of Chrissy, but looked better than he did weeks before.

You weren't sure if you should tell your brother, which doesn't seem like a good idea. Well, first because he's a guy. And second, because he's your brother. You just know how you're going to react when you're close to him, and it's going to be awkward again. You didn't want that to happen either.

So, now as you lean against the counter at Family Video, you tap your fingers incessantly over it waiting for Robin to digest what you had just told her. Steve isn't working today, so you use the opportunity to talk to her without him being nosy and inappropriate.

"So... you guys were going at it?" She asks and you nod. Robin nods and leans by your side "Wow. Munson would definitely freak out if he heard about that"

"I know. It would probably be completely weird to be around him at this point"

"Are you sure it was him? It could be, I don't know, Jonathan or that really cute guy from senior year" She tilts her head and ponders about the situation. You laugh.

"I only saw Jonathan like once, and I have no fucking idea who you're talking about" You knit your eyebrows playfully and she agrees, because you still don't know everyone from school. "It was definitely Eddie"

"Definitely me what?" Both you and Robin look astonished as he shows up unannounced behind you.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you take in his sight and you open your mouth, closing it as fast as you can. She clears her throat and gives him a nervous smile.

He's holding two tapes in his hands and looks at the two of you as he waits for a response. Eddie lifts his hands to show Robin he's returning the tapes and drops them at the counter.

"It was, uh– It was you who rented this movie! She wanted to get it as well" She picks up the first tape from the small pile and shakes it in front of you and him.

Your face scrunches up from her improvising, but he doesn't notice it.

He then looks at you and widens his eyes "Since when do you like Scarface?" Eddie seems interested in the thought of you liking these kinds of movies, but you have no idea what the hell it is about.

You shrug and look down at the tape, not wanting to stare at his eyes. It's going to remind you of your dream and you don't want to deal with that right now.

"I don't know, I can change my taste in movies. Right, Rob?" Your eyes throw daggers at her and she shrinks, slumping her shoulders, but still remaining in character.

"Yeah! Definitely, totally! I mean, I like romcoms a lot and Steve always tells me I should watch things like Terminator and shit like that" She starts to ramble and Eddie chuckles at her.

"Okay" He smiles while looking at you and shifts his weight as he looks at Robin next. You feel your cheeks burn under his stare and it's embarrassing "You want the full price or can I pay the rest next week?"

Robin agrees and takes his money, looking at you. She gives you a comforting smile, even though you feel nervous just by standing beside him. Eddie turns his face at you and smiles again.

You smile back at him, your stomach is flipping and you feel your hands sweating. Jesus, this is becoming so hard to stand. It feels as though you're a 12-year-old girl with a crush.

"If you're renting this one, you're welcome to watch with me if you want to" He points at the tape you're holding, his face showing his full grin at you.

You're still in a daze as you look at him, who waits for you to answer his invitation. He's leaning against the counter, while Robin is somewhere else. You chuckle nervously, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as you hold the tape firmly in your hand, afraid it will fall off.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to Ed"

He mumbles a "great" and calls out Robin by her last name and she appears from one of the aisles. You just know she was waiting for your moment with him to end so she could show up. He thanks her for the service and greets both of you with a tap on the shoulders. Eddie takes a little longer as he rubs his fingers over your shirt and cocks his head when he says "see you".

"Oh my God, you lovebirds are watching a movie together!" She says it a little louder and does happy jumps like you're still in middle school.

You laugh at her reaction, even though you still feel a little nervous from your interaction with him. Robin says you were going to be fine, that it's okay to feel nervous when you like someone.

In fact, two days later you watched the movie and you were pretty sure you hated it for the most part. Especially because you couldn't focus entirely on the story, and Eddie made sure to pay attention even though he had watched it already. He explained scenes you didn't get, and even paused it when he was away from the TV because he still wanted to be there to watch it with you.

It was in the middle of it that you realized nothing was going to happen, so you tried to feel relaxed and stopped tensing up. He noticed you were nervous, though. When he hung his arm around the couch, barely touching your arms, he could feel how rigid they were and didn't try anything.

He was nervous, too. Eddie hasn't had any movie time with anyone since he started going out with Chrissy. And he barely watched movies with her because she always had an excuse to not see them with him. It was nice to have someone like you who would accept watching it even if you didn't like it. And you told him you didn't, he laughed and said it was okay. You tried to make him believe you really wanted to watch it because you were curious, but maybe he didn't fall for it.

He dropped you off at your house when Steve wasn't there and you almost invited him over. But what for? You were so edgy you couldn't even think of something you both could do besides watching a movie. So, you hopped off his van and said goodnight. He left a kiss on your forehead before that and it made your heart flutter. This time, he called you sweetheart.

It only made things worse. You didn't know how you would handle your feelings anymore.

-

Eddie watches over his shoulder as Jason leans against Chrissy while they're sitting at a table at the library. He's working his shift after school, placing a few books on the shelf. He didn't when they came in, but he noticed the giggling she was giving to her partner. When he looked over to his right, he saw them getting pretty close to each other, almost sharing a kiss.

He silently scoffed and rolled his eyes to the back of his head. He was trying to pretend it's not bothering him how they act when they're together in public and it annoys him. Eddie doesn't feel bad because of her anymore, he feels angry at her. He's angry that she wasn't honest with him and that she's just like Jason, only he never realized it before.

Steve spent about two minutes calling out his friend, snapping his fingers beside him but he didn't hear him. Eddie was too absorbed into his own thoughts.

"Eddie!"

"What?" He answered through gritted teeth, now finally turning his head to look at Steve.

"Would you stop looking at them?"

"Yeah, sure. They're just about to swallow each other's tonsils in front of people. But yeah, of course I can" He spits over a sarcastic tone.

Steve rolls his eyes, leaning against the shelf and slapping Eddie over his head. "Don't be so fucking dumb, dude"

"I'm just... angry at them. They're absolutely ridiculous. How did I never notice that before?"

Steve glances at him with a knowing look, because he knew Chrissy wasn't meant for him, he knew she wasn't good for his friend. But he didn't want to say anything because it wasn't his right to.

Your brother rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, comforting him. "Let them be assholes together. You're good without her anyway"

He was right, Eddie was much better without the girl who said so much shit about him before.

Steve invites him to go camping later that night, saying your other friends are also gonna be there. He ponders for several seconds, knowing the lake still gives him shivers and it triggers him, even though it's not Lovers Lake.

"Is little Harrignton going too?" He asks about you and Steve chuckles at how he calls you.

"Yeah, she will"

It makes Eddie nervous to know you're going to be there too. You've never seen him being vulnerable over something so terrifying before, even though he had to deal with his dad doing drugs and leaving him. He got over it.

But the fact he's still remembering the Upside Down and the gate deep in the lake makes his skin crawl and he clenches his jaw at the thought of it. He knows you're a little familiar with the story, but he doesn't want you to know the aftermath of it.

It's the fact that it's so hard for him to deal with, that he thinks no one deserves to deal with that either.

And so it happens. He's trapped in the blue looking Hawkins from the Upside Down. He watches from a distance when the vines from the floor wrap you and pull you down without struggling. Steve is right behind you, screaming your name as he sees Vecna floating above you. Robin tries to shoot flames at him but it only makes him stronger.

One small movement and the Demobats start flying towards Eddie. Not all of them, but a good amount of them. They immediately bite into his skin, ripping off his flesh as he screams louder than he can. Steve doesn't know where he goes. He's in the middle of the fight, deciding what he should do.

"Just go! Go save her! I'm out" Eddie yells. His breath is shaky and he tries to breathe but it's impossible.

And listens to himself screaming painfully as he sees the town crumble to ashes before his eyes. Another bite rips his skin off and he gasps, his throat burns from inside out.

You flinch when he's yelling and your first instinct is to wake him up. Eddie sat up straight, holding a pocket knife against your neck. If it wasn't for your reflex of holding his forearm, he would've stabbed you right there.

Shocked, you looked at him with widened eyes and whispered his name. "It's just me, Eddie. It's me"

His eyes are a mixture of dread, panic and relief. Even though you'd say yes, actually desperate as well, seeing what he was about to do.

You both look at each other panting, eyes fixed and still holding up the knife he was about to drop on the floor.

You hear the noise, he's shaking when he holds tight on your jawline and pulls you for a desperate hug. "Fuck, sorry. I'm so sorry, shortie. I didn't- I didn't mean it"

He has trouble breathing and you notice he's having an asthma attack. If you didn't know better, he's still carrying his inhaler in his backpack. You rush to it and hold it for him, but he's too distracted to do it himself.

You do it for him, he inhales deeply as he tries to focus on the oxygen he needs. He's still shaking really bad and you're pretty sure you're not any different from him. You open your tent so he gets fresh air, watching when Steve, Robin and the others rush to you both.

"What the fuck was that?" Nancy asks worriedly, next to Jonathan.

You don't notice when Eddie and Steve share a look, and your brother finds the pocket knife laying on the floor. You look back to Eddie, who's huddled in the corner, his knees are bent and he rests his elbows over it, covering his face.

You look so lost in the midst of the chaos. Steve helps you up and out of the tent, and Robin pulls Eddie out of it next. He walks out to the opposite direction, lighting a cigarette and nervously fiddling his rings.

"Why does he have a fucking pocket knife while he sleeps?" Was your first question when Steve stood beside you.

He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He knows why, and he doesn't want you to know why.

"Steve?"

"He, uh-" He scratches the back of his head, squinting his eyes shut.

You wait for him to give you an answer. You look away and see Eddie on the verge of a meltdown. He's definitely struggling with something.

Steve wasn't sure he should tell you. He didn't know if Eddie would accept it. But you've always been his friend, you should know. Not from your brother, though.

He motions his head to his friend, meaning you should go talk to him. You're a little apprehensive of doing so.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you approaching him, timidly. He blows the smoke far from you and takes a deep and sharp breath as you stand next to him, looking out at the lake.

"You good?" You ask, not really sure how to start the conversation.

He chuckles, nervously of course. It's not directed at you, it's because of the situation itself. He throws the cigarette at the lake and turns to look at you. Immediately his eyes become glassy and he can't hold back the huff. It's still a little hard to breathe. But what's worse than that it's the fresh memories of the nightmare he just had.

A few hours ago, when you arrived at the lake, he was pretty sure he would be just fine knowing he was with his friends. It was the first time you were doing something like that since you got back to Hawkins and he was loving it. Eddie tried to focus on having fun and doing camping stuff with all of you. He tried his best to not let the door of the back of his mind let him remember the horrors.

And he did it. Even though a few times he would look into the lake and imagine Vecna would just show up and kill all of you. He shook it off, it was going to be fine. They killed him. You were all fine.

He tried to smoke a lot less because you were there. You were the one who always asked him to stop smoking and he knew it was too hard to let go of the addiction. But for you, he would try. And he did. It was a bit difficult, but he was having fun and laughing his ass off. Playing games was helping him a lot.

Seeing you there helped a lot. For him, though, it was too complicated as well. Because he wanted to be with you, he wanted to go out with you, he wanted to be around you a lot more.

But he couldn't fathom the fact you were the only one "immune" to the whole thing. You were the only one who didn't experience anything like they did, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to protect you, even if it meant not being able to see you more. Even if it meant he couldn't have you like he wished.

Now he stands in front of you. He glances at you and he sees how worried you are, how scared you were when he realized what he was doing. He sees the way you're already trying to be there for him when he doesn't want you to.

Eddie runs his fingers through his hair mercilessly and messes with the curls. He nervously rubs his hand over his chin, not looking directly at you now. He doesn't want to hide things from you, but he doesn't want you to know what happened to him before. He doesn't need to be pitied or treated differently because of that.

But he just knows that if he keeps hiding it from you, it's gonna be worse for him. Sooner or later you'd find out, and demand him an answer.

He does it like he's ripping a band-aid off.

"I have nightmares. Okay? Almost every single damn day"

His words come out bitter, and you're not sure how to react to that. You don't wanna say sorry, because he might have heard that a thousand times.

"I dream about the same thing. I dream about Vecna and the fucking Demobats. They're chewing on me. They're eating me alive" He closes his eyes and you see tears washing over his face.

"It's always so real. I feel them ripping my skin off, I feel the pain. I see Steve there, and I see our friends and they're all helpless. And tonight, it was different. Because, fuck" Eddie lets out a nervous laugh and you watch him intently. "You were there too. And I couldn't save you. I just couldn't"

You take a step closer to him, holding his shaking hands, pulling them closer to you. He doesn't want to look at you, he doesn't look into your eyes. But you stare into his soul and try to take in his pain, because you know it wasn't easy for them. You know Steve dreams about it too, he's always talking about it. But it's not even as bad as it is for Eddie.

He doesn't hold back the tears. He let them fall freely and you dry them with your thumbs. You lean your forehead against his and let him mourn. Maybe that's what he needs, someone to cry on.

"It's... so fucked up. I don't know why I have these nightmares all the time. It feels like I wasn't supposed to come back"

You close your still forcefully and whisper "shut up" to him, but he doesn't. He still complains and says how much he didn't deserve a second chance.

"Eddie, just stop. You don't need to relive it every time. You should see the therapist, get some help. Find some comfort"

He gives you a dry laugh "Easy for you to say, shortie. You don't get to be in my head every fucking day"

"You're right, I don't. But you don't deserve to be in pain and suffer whenever it happens"

You both stay silent. He's just enjoying how close you are and the way you hold his hands and how he leans against you. He tries to absorb your words and works his mind to forget what happened but it's so hard. He hears the sound of the lake and it still makes him shiver. "It's not Lovers Lake. This is not the lake of the gate. He's dead, it's all gone". He thinks.

Steve is watching you from afar. His arms are crossed against his chest and he rummages through his lower lip, because he doesn't know what you're dealing with. He likes to think Eddie is gonna be fine as long as he stays with you, as long as he's around you. He would like to see his friend happy, for once at least. For more than just a few months.

You walk in the tent again, sitting as you wait for Eddie to make himself comfortable over the duvet you spread over the floor. You offered to be the bigger spoon and he laughed. It sounded so adorable coming from him, especially now that he's vulnerable.

He lies on his side, waiting for you to spoon him as you throw an arm around him. You rest your face against his shoulder and smell him. He's always smelling like musk and cigarettes, it's really charming. Even though you hate when he smokes.

Not long after you're both lying there, Eddie shifts and turns to his other side to face you. He places his hand over your face, splaying it out and he rubs his thumb against your soft skin. You hum to the touch and close your eyes.

He likes the sight. He likes the feeling, the touch. His stomach flutters and he feels nauseous in a good way. Eddie presses his lips to your forehead and spends several seconds just like that.

He takes in your smell and tries to lock it inside his brain. When he finally pulls back, he's caught on you looking at him. You smile and he smiles back at you.

"I'm glad you're back, honey" He whispers before scooting closer to your neck, leaning his head over your shoulder as he closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

~ 

Eddie feels like everyone is looking at him somehow. He glances at the group of the party people, Jason’s group and the cheerleaders group. They’re all gossips. They’re like vultures looking for a piece of garbage, they just sneak their way into someone’s life and expose them. It’s not different this time. 

It seems like they’re whispering behind his back and he doesn’t know why. While Mike rambles about a new D&D campaign, he just keeps trying to listen to whatever anyone else is talking about. He feels his ears burn when Chrissy looks at him and giggles at her cheerleader friend. It bothers him. He whips his head and looks at the table you’re sitting in with Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and your brother, but you’re all too distracted to notice it. 

Maybe it’s all in his head, maybe he’s too paranoid over something that doesn’t exist. Jason stands from his seat, dumping the rest of his food in the trash, walking towards the aisle where Eddie is sitting. He leans back against a pillar, grinning slightly, his voice casual but loaded with an amused tone. 

“You ever wonder what it’s like to just... not sleep, Eddie? I mean, really. Or sleep at peace. That way, you’d never have to deal with those crazy dreams, right?” 

Eddie’s hand paused mid air as he lifted his fork. His heart skipped a beat. His nightmares had been getting worse, each one more vivid and unsettling than the last. Jason’s words weren’t an accident, he could tell. He hasn’t told anyone about his nightmares, his friends knew. God, even Gareth knew about them. And you were the last to know. 

But you wouldn’t do it, right? Why would you tell anyone? Jason’s smirk deepened as he continued, barely glancing at Eddie, focusing at a blank spot ahead of him. 

“I’m sure it’s tough, you know, when you close your eyes and suddenly you're not sure what's real anymore. Kind of like... Dungeons and Dragons?”

Dustin and Mike stare at each other perplexed, Jeff and Gareth do the same, and the four of them share a look. Eddie clenches his jaw, putting the fork on his plate and forcing himself to look at the blond in front of him, who had a mocking smile on his face. 

“The fuck are you talking about, you prick?” The metalhead could feel his blood pumping in his ears and his heart was beating so fast, he was almost choking on it. 

“Yeah, but it’s probably better than... waking up and realizing you're not in control of anything. It’s all just... slipping away, piece by piece.” Jason chuckled under his breath. “Wouldn’t want to live like that, right?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against the table. He could feel the heat of Jason’s words seeping into his skin, prickling his nerves. The basketball leader wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was mocking him. Instead, it felt like he was enjoying every second of it because his voice was too smooth, his posture too relaxed, like he had already won some invisible game.

You finally noticed it happening, you didn’t see it before because Jason was being subtle. He wasn’t being loud or conspicuous. He knew what he was doing. And you could see the way Eddie was gripping tight on the table and how the other boys were too uncomfortable on their seats. 

“Oh, God. Not again” You murmur and your friends all turn their heads to look at the scene. 

Jason was still leaning against the pillar, a smug on his face as he doesn’t actually stare at Eddie, but rather just pushes his buttons. Whatever it was, it made Eddie stand abruptly. 

He pushed his chair back with a loud scrape. He wasn’t sure whether he was more frustrated with Jason or with himself for letting him get under his skin. Without another word, he grabbed his tray and walked away, the sound of Jason’s laughter trailing behind him. He looked around carefully, and yes, most groups were looking at him and whispering whatever it was. 

Eddie didn’t spend another second in the cafeteria, rushing out and grabbing your arm forcefully during the way, leading you back to the classroom storage. He pinned you to the wall, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was closed on a line. You knew he was mad, you just didn’t know why it was directed at you.

“Did you tell them, Harrington?” Him using your last name wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was his tone that scared you.

You froze for a moment, your back still facing the wall. Your expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. “Tell them what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about” Eddie pressed, his voice thick with frustration. “My nightmares. Did you tell people about them?”

You blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. You took a slight step back, your face turning to something like defense. “What? Eddie, no. I- I didn’t tell anyone about your nightmares. Why would I do that?”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure why it hurt so much, maybe it was because he thought he could trust you, or maybe it was the way the rumors had made their way to him, but the sting was undeniable. “Then how the hell did people find out about them?” His voice was louder now, and he noticed you flinched to his tone. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, now your voice grew louder as you took a step toward him. “I swear, Eddie, I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even know about them until you told me, and you never gave me permission to share that with anyone.”

Eddie’s eyes searched yours, trying to look for your features to falter. He wanted to believe you, but something in the pit of his stomach twisted as he remembered the way their eyes had shifted when they saw him.

“I- I don’t know, shortie. It’s just… it feels like everyone’s talking about it. Like they know things they shouldn’t” Eddie admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I can’t deal with that.”

Your eyes softened, and you shook your head, your expression showing disappointment. “Eddie, I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but I promise you, I haven’t told anyone. If people know, it’s because of their own assumptions or something they overheard. I never shared anything.”

Eddie looked down, his hand running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t sure if he felt more betrayed or more embarrassed. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that people know, or the fact that you think I’d believe you wouldn’t tell anyone”

Your face fell, your lips were trembling slightly. “You think I’d do that to you? After everything? After what we’ve been through?” Your voice cracked, a flicker of hurt flashing in your eyes. “Eddie, I care about you. I would never betray you like that. It’s unbelievable that you think I’d be capable of something like that.”

Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, the anger in Eddie’s chest deflated. He felt a sharp pang of guilt, his frustration dissipating as he realized just how deeply he’d misunderstood you. But it didn’t erase the feeling that something was off, something out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible now. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just… I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

You nod, but still you feel like you were punched in the guts. You had never told anything to anyone in that school, let alone something so personal about Eddie. And you look at him, your eyes twitching as they become wet. You didn’t want to just cry because he didn’t believe you, you felt like all these years of friendship didn’t mean anything to him. 

“Yeah, right. We’ve been friends for like, what, three weeks right Eddie?” He squints his eyes shut and takes in your sharp answer. He knows he fucked up. “I mean, why would you trust me when I’m a new friend to you?”

You don’t wait for a response as you brush past him, your shoulder pushing him out of the way. He stands there in confusion and frustration. He watches as you leave him alone and disappear out of the room. He kicks the first thing he sees and huffs a loud sigh. 

-

You hated how you wanted to avoid Eddie every day during classes, during the break, and everywhere your friends would go together. Because he was always there, you cross paths in the hallway and he throws a guilty look at you. You know he feels bad, you also feel bad for him, but you can’t stop thinking about the way he confronted you back then. 

And Eddie couldn’t stop himself from looking at you, the guilt weighing him down. Why didn’t you just trust her? he thought, frustration bubbling up. She didn’t do anything wrong. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the knot in his chest only grew tighter. That was before he found out Robin talked about it with Vickie, thinking they were alone in the bathroom. 

Turns out one of Chrissy’s friends was also there and she did what they would all do. She told them. And now almost the entire school knew about it. Robin just wanted to explain to her girlfriend why Eddie was seeming so off lately, and then she told her. She didn’t know it would end up like that. And now Eddie won’t look at her either, no matter how many times and how much she apologizes to him. 

By the time the school day ended that week, Eddie was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guilt, the self-doubt, and the fear of losing you gnawed at him with every step. He watched as you slipped out the door, your pace quickening as if you couldn’t wait to leave.

He told himself he would talk to you tomorrow, that he would apologize and fix things, but deep down, he knew the longer he let this silence sink in, the harder it would be.

When you turned around the corner near the back of the school, you saw him. He was leaning against the wall, the faint smell of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. He didn’t notice you at first, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, as if the weight of whatever he was carrying was too heavy to hold up anymore.

The sight of him, smoking like this, was strange and you hated seeing him with a cigarette.

“Eddie” you said, your voice sharper than you meant.

He froze, but didn’t turn to face you right away. Instead, he exhaled the smoke and crushed the cigarette under his boot. When he finally faced you, his eyes narrowed slightly, a guarded expression on his face.

“Why are you hiding here?” 

He doesn’t look at you for a moment, he shakes his head and mumbles “Nothing”

“Don’t lie” You snap at him, stepping forward, closer to him. “You’ve been acting like a damn ghost. I’m not stupid, Eddie. You thought I told everyone about your nightmares. About what you’ve been dealing with”

“And I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry I doubted you” When Eddie finally glanced up at you, his eyes were holding tiredness and angriness. Not towards you, but at everything that has been happening. “I’m just trying to keep some distance”

Your sarcastic laugh filled the air. “You’re doing it perfectly, you didn’t even apologize after that day!”

Eddie’s face twisted with frustration, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I don’t want you involved in this mess” he spat, voice thick with emotion. “You don’t get it. If you knew everything, it would just complicate things.”

“Complicate things?” You shook your head, stepping even closer now, too close you’re almost bumping your nose into his. “So you keep me at arm’s length, push me away, all because you think you’re protecting me?”

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something. Maybe it was regret, guilt, maybe even fear. “I didn’t want to bring you into this” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. If you knew what we've all been through, you would understand”

The roughness in his voice caught you off guard. You were angry, sure, but you could see that this wasn’t about mistrust. It was about his own insecurities. And it hurt more than anything.

“Eddie” Your voice softened as you looked deep in his eyes. “You don’t protect me by pushing me away. You don’t protect anyone like that.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his eyes avoiding yours as if he was trying to figure out what to say, or if there was even anything to say. Then, slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a touch so tender it made your heart skip.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his thumb grazing your skin softly, almost passionately. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that”

You looked at him, the anger still simmering, but there was something else too. Something softer, something that made the hurt a little easier to deal with. “You’ve got to start trusting me again, Eddie. I’m not like them. I’m not going to turn my back on you”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, the vulnerability in his expression too brutal to ignore. He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, almost like an instinct, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

The world seemed to slow as he leaned in, his breath mixing with yours, the emotion in his gaze nearly too much to handle.

You didn’t pull away, but instead, you held your breath, your heart racing. The space between you both was nonexistent now, the pull so magnetic that it almost hurt. Eddie’s lips hovered near yours for a fraction of a second, the silence screaming louder than anything.

He almost closed the gap, if it wasn’t for Dustin’s loud shriek calling out his name. Like an instinct, you pull back and glance at each other. Your heart is almost beating in your throat and your hands are sweating. Eddie looks at you pleadingly and before he leaves, he kisses you on the forehead and trots to where Dustin is calling him. 

You didn’t even know you were holding your breath until you’re out of oxygen.

⋆˚✿˖°

@thegirlthatsfalling @strangemaximoff @readergf @sheneedsrocknroll92

[sacredwrath]

P13. Be afraid

Violence, wound care, past torture, touch aversion, nausea mention, self harm?, suicidal ideation (encouraged), negative self perception

“Hey there, come on back now.” The words find Adrian somewhere far away. They wash over him, conveying little meaning.

He floats

“Adrian!” More forceful. That's his name, isn't it? Did he have a name?

“Adrian, it's time to come back now, come on, wake up.” These words are accompanied by a spike of irritation. Who's disturbing him?

“Adrian!” This time, a sensation, a small pain against his cheek. He has a cheek? He has a body

Body awareness hits him

He shoots back into himself, leaping up with a gasp, unsteady legs almost dumping him to the floor. Where is he? Who is hurting him?

The walls are dusty brick, and his feet press into concrete. His cell, Jesse's basement. He relaxes a fraction

A small, dark-skinned woman with wild hair and a bloody rag in her hand looks up at him from where she's seated on a cot. Was that always here?

“Hey hey, it's ok,” she says, raising her hands to show she's unarmed. “It's just me… Wonder. L- Apollo went to grab my kit. I'm a medic. We met before, but you were kinda out of it” she trails off

Right, Jesse's friends. The blonde man- Apollo? Stupid name

What the fuck just happened? He's off balance. He hates being off balance. Why was he unconscious?

“Don't touch me!” He snaps as she reaches for him. It comes out tight and unmistakably panicked. Weak- He bears his teeth. Who gave her permission-

Pull yourself together

Can't let them see it

She has her hands up again. “It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you it's just a soothing antibiotic ointment.”

“What?” He still feels off balance, he doesn't understand. Why is she tending his wounds?

“For the pain?”

…

“L-Apollo thought you were having a… reaction to the pain.”

He doesn't understand. Why? Best to agree. He nods, forcing himself to take a few steps towards her.

Gingerly he sits, forcing himself to angle his bared back towards her. It feels like willingly reaching for a hot stove

He flinches at her touch. Fucking weak-

Trying to calm himself he holds still as her fingers move over his back. Each touch burns, sending goose flesh racing across his skin

His last memory was the blonde man coming through the door. He'd been feeling pretty good then? Hadn't he? He likes watching the man squirm and this time he was squirming. The man hadn't known how to use a whip-

Of course, he bites his tongue, letting the slight pain ground him

A whip, fucking typical. Disgust roils in his belly. He'd thought he'd be over this. The man was fucking incompetent with a whip anyways. Did he even hit him? Fucking weak, pathetic-

Her fingers graze the back of his neck and he grits his teeth against bile suddenly rising in his throat.

She finally breaks contact and he allows himself an unsteady breath.

But then her fingers are back and he flinches hard. Revolting-

“Sorry” she says automatically. Is she? He has to fight every instinct he has to make himself unfurl and lean back towards her.

“Almost done.” Is she trying to reassure him? Pathetic

She rubs ointment over another laceration. Her fingers feel like thousands of tiny needles, stinging, but not hurting. He gags, twisting suddenly to grab her wrist. He can't take it

“Get away from me bitch!” He snaps, wrenching her arm viciously and throwing her to the ground.

She cries out, landing awkwardly and he grins. Finally. Satisfaction, control, relief wash through him so fast it makes him dizzy. Yes

He stalks towards her with purpose and she scrambles away, the fear plain in her eyes. He takes his time, wanting to enjoy this.

Where to start? Her fingers, obviously. The hands that were all over his bare skin. His stomach turns, he can still feel their phantom touch. Should he break them? Take off her nails? Breaking them might be too... harsh

He lunges at her, but she darts past him, faster than he expected. Or maybe he's just slower. Her elbow collides hard with his spine and he yelps, spinning back to face her with a growl. Break them then. Each and every one that touched him. Hes going to rip them out one by one and make her fucking eat them

“Come on” she says, hands half raised as if she's still not sure if she wants to fight him. “You really think you can take me in your condition? I don't want to hurt you.” Part of him tries to remember his condition. He's injured, severely injured in his legs, and was unconscious not 10 minutes ago. Maybe he should care, but he doesn't

He throws himself at her, ducking a fist, in past her guard. She kicks out, connecting with his ruined shin, and he howls. The world going white for a moment. When it comes back, he's on top of her, straddling her hips. His wounded knees dig hard into the floor on either side of her. It hurts, but the pain just makes him more angry. He buries a fist in her face, and another before she bucks her hips, knocking him forward, off balance. Grabbing his arm, she flips him off of her, reversing their positions, but before he can react, he feels the tip of a knife digging into his neck.

He almost begs for it 

“Go on then.” He half screams “fucking do it! I can see how bad you want to!” Breathing hard he can feel the sharp edge biting gently into his skin. “You're little friend couldn't. Wanted to teach me a lesson first. But between you and me, I just think he's a coward.” He can't stop the laugh bubbling up in him. “Come on now,” he tries to sound soothing, not crazy. “For Jesse.” He pouts. “Think about how broken they looked when they got back. All shaky and crying, probably flinching at even your most gentle touch.” he tsks “so sad” 

“Misha!” A startled gasp from the door. She glances back and Adrian takes the chance, knocking the blade away from his neck. He twists, throwing her off him, trying to swing the blade around to her neck, but she is too strong. She grapples him, knife clasped in both their hands as they each try to keep it away from themself.

Then the blonde man, Apollo, is there. He stomps hard on Adrian's wrist, grinding it into the cement as the woman lets go. He wines in pain, flailing with his other hand, trying to grab her. She extracates herself easily and stands, looming over him.

“I think you're the coward.” She growls, knife back in her hand. “You're trying so hard to get someone to do it for you. Why? Too scared to do it yourself?" She sneers. "Maybe if you're good, when Apollos done, I'll leave what's left of you with the knife.” she spits at him, pointedly folding the knife as she turns away

He sees red, diving after the pair. A boot knocks him back. He dives again, just in time for the door to slam shut in his face. He screams

Prev | Materpost | Next

Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them @kiichu @whatwhump @jay--o @starsick1979

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- four.

{WARNINGS}: arguing, drinking, kissing (i think that's all??)

w.c- 2,760

a.n- this chapter takes a WILD turn towards the end. i'm super excited for how you guys like it!

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob @dontwantthemoney @n0n3xsisting

his lips against mine felt like heaven. it felt like my whole life was complete when i kissed him, when i felt him. he felt like home. something i hadn't known in a long time. i pulled away, breathing slightly heavy as i looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

"noah.." i whispered.

he smiled softly and hummed.

"i fucking love you."

"mm.. [y/n]." he mumbled against my lips.

"princess."

"[Y/N]!"

i woke up with a soft groan, my eyes fluttering open. i looked around, my vision slightly blurry as i tried to assess who the hell was calling my name.

"jesus christ, fucking finally." folio huffed. "do you know where noah is?"

"what? he was just-" i looked up from where i was laying, seeing an empty spot beside me. i furrowed my brows.

"he was here. we fell asleep watching naruto." i said.

"right, well he isn't anymore. we had a rehearsal today and he's not here. no note, no text, and his location is off.''

just like last time.

overcome with sudden anger, i got up and threw the blanket off of me, grabbing my bag. i knew this was a mistake. i knew i never should've let that fucker back in my life. i really thought he would change. how stupid.

"woah, kid, where are you going?" folio asked, confused by my haste.

"i'm fucking leaving. tell noah he can leave me the hell alone. i did this once, i am not doing it again." i snapped as i left the studio, getting in my car and speeding off.

NOAH'S POV.

[y/n] had fallen asleep in the middle of us watching naruto last night. i didn't have the heart to wake her up or move her, so i gave her a soft kiss on the forehead and went home. she wouldn't mind, right?

i was at my computer in my room, streaming some games when my phone went off next to me. i furrowed my brows and leaned back in my chair, noticing a very long message from folio.

folio: where the fuck were you today, dude? we had rehearsal to record some shit and you weren't there. not to mention when i woke [y/n] up from the couch to ask where the hell you were, she stormed out and looked extremely pissed and told me to tell you to leave her the hell alone. i don't know what the fuck happened, but you need to fix it. fast. we just got her back, we can't lose her again.

i cursed, quickly ending the stream and pulling on a hoodie and some shoes, running out to my car and speeding off to [y/n]'s house. yeah, she told me to 'leave her the hell alone,' but there's no way in hell i'm doing that. not again. not after i just got her back.

i ran up to the front door, banging on it harshly. she opened it, and when she saw my face, immediately went to go close it again.

READER'S POV.

just when i had started recovering from everything, him leaving me again made me fall back into that pit of despair. multiple bottles laid out in front of me, and i just stared at the wall. until there was a loud banging on my front door.

"damn, where's the fire?" i muttered. as i got off the couch to go open the door, only to be met with the one face i didn't want to see at the moment.

i huffed, moving to close the door again without a word, but he pushed it open.

"no, i'm not letting you shut me out like last time." he said, walking inside.

"noah, go away. you've already made it clear you don't want me in your life. why do you keep coming back if all you're going to do is leave again?"

he looked at me. "that's what this is all about? because i left the studio while you were sleeping?"

"yes! you left. no note, no text, and your fucking location was off!"

noah scoffed. "you're acting like an obsessive girlfriend."

i raised my eyebrows. "really? obsessive girlfriend because i get hurt when you leave with no word? news flash, noah, it's called being worried! i trusted you not to leave. i thought after everything that happened yesterday, we could move on and be friends, but you just up and left without a word! now i don't give a shit about any of your excuses. this is the second time you've done this shit, and i'm done. done!" i yelled

noah, stood there, stunned. "princess, i-"

"don't fucking call me that! i don't want to see you, i don't want to hear you, i don't want to be near you. just fucking leave me alone!" i yelled, tears streaming down my face.

"jesus christ, [y/n], would you fucking listen for five seconds!?" he snapped.

i clenched my jaw. "what, noah? what could you possibly have to say that is so important in this moment?"

he sighed, sitting down and running his hands through his long brown hair. the hair i just wanted to sit down and run my hands through, soothe all his worries. but how could i do that when he couldn't even soothe mine about him leaving?

"listen, the first time i left, i got a text from alyssa."

"who?"

"my gir- ex girlfriend." he said "why is that relevant?"

"she cheated on me. i thought that maybe she called me to try and fix things. you know, make amends. show me she was different, that she could change. when i got there, she was practically begging on her knees for me to stay. and as much as it hurt, i said no. i left."

"why?" i asked

he clenched his jaw, and it was obvious he was debating on whether or not he should tell me.

i sat down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. this wasn't about our argument anymore. he needed someone to talk to. a friend.

when he told me the story, it was like all of the puzzle pieces in my mind seemed to click together.

he didn't want to leave. neither times that he left did he want to. but he had to. because there was this nagging voice in his mind telling him that everyone was the same, that they would all hurt him.

that he was nothing.

and i understood. sometimes, i had that voice too. the one that told me i would never be good enough for anybody. that i would never have the future i dreamed of. and when that happened, i would call nicholas, and he would talk to me about it or try to distract me from it.

and that's what noah needed.

not a distraction, because it seemed that was all he had been doing over the past few months was distracting himself from his problems. but he needed to talk to someone about it. someone who wouldn't judge him for his problems.

"i won't judge you, noah. you can tell me." i said softly, all anger from our earlier argument pushed aside in this moment.

"i was- am- in love with another woman. fuck, i don't even know at this point. everything is so complicated." he said.

i ignored the pit of jealousy forming in my stomach and nodded, allowing him to continue.

"alyssa was abusive. physically and mentally. i stayed with her for years, afraid to move on and try to start over. because i hate change. i've always been the kind of person to try and keep things exactly the way they are forever, y'know?" i nodded again. "but then keaton sent me a picture of her kissing another dude at the mall while we were out on tour. and the others had been telling me for years to break up with her, to leave and try and move on. but she was all i had, [y/n]. i felt like i would be reduced to nothing when i left her. and a little bit before i broke up with her, i realized something. i was in love with another woman. the way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she laughed when one of us said something funny. i wanted to be around her at all times. i wanted to be the one to make her laugh, to cheer her up when she was sad, to love and hold her in the night. and i'm trying to show her that, i really am. but every time i get close enough and gain that little slither of confidence i need to show her how much i care, something fucking happens and i screw it all up and we go back to hating each other. and it hurts, because i love her, and all i want is for her to know how much i love her." he said, and i noticed the tears streaming down his face. as much as my heart yearned for that woman to be me, i just wanted him to be happy, even if it was at the cost of losing him again. if he was truly happy, then i was happy.

"well, noah, first of all, i think you should take a break. from everything. music, touring, socials. all of it. give yourself a fresh start, a breather. a moment to figure out what it is that you want for yourself, not what other people want for you. and then after you've done that, show her that you care. that you love her. build up that relationship gradually until you know it's time to tell her how you really feel. but i just want to say this. stop disappearing. stop leaving. it's okay to feel vulnerable. it's okay to have feelings, and to cry. but it's not okay to abandon the people who care about you."

noah finally looked up at me, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "i'm so sorry, [y/n]. please, you have to forgive me."

i wanted to forgive him. i wanted to throw caution to the wind and kiss those beautiful lips and tell him that everything would be okay. but i couldn't.

"i know you are, noah. i know. but just like you, i need time to myself. to figure out who i want to be. this isn't goodbye, this is just see you later. okay?"

he nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek, and i hugged him.

noah left that night, his heart heavy in his chest as he walked out of my door. it pained me to let him go, but i knew it was for the better. it was what we both needed to be happy. to let go. to move on.

it was nearly a year later before i saw him again. we still talked occasionally, but not very often. just simple messages, checking up on each other.

my career in music took off. i released my first album titled Happier Than Ever, and noah released his titled The Death of Peace of Mind, though his was a bit before mine.

i didn't try to date anyone. didn't try to hook up or have a casual fling or anything of the sorts. my focus was solely on my music and my career. that was all i cared about at the moment, and to be honest, it helped me let go of a lot of things.

i invited noah to my album release party, and he told me that he and the others would try their best to make it there. i had seen the other three in person a couple times, but i never really saw noah. from what i've heard from others, he's changed a lot.

two of noah's friends had made it to the party, bryan, their photographer, and matt, their tour manager. i was talking to one of my old friends when matt came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder, snatching my attention as he whispered something in my ear.

"noah's here."

my breath caught in my throat and i nodded, excusing myself from the conversation. a ton of different memories hit me all at once, but one stood out from all the rest.

i missed him. so fucking much.

and i loved him.

i looked around, trying to spot that familiar head of hair. there weren't very many people; only close friends and family, so i furrowed my brows when i couldn't see him, until i heard his voice.

"hey, princess." he spoke from behind me, and i whipped my body around to face him, my breath halting for a moment.

holy.

fucking.

shit.

to say he was hotter than hell was a bit of an understatement. he'd gotten taller, and definitely stronger. he'd been working out, i could tell. and that beautiful brown hair that i had grown oh so fond of had been chopped short.

"noah." i said, and he laughed softly. "don't start drooling."

i laughed, shaking my head as i pulled him into a short hug. "sorry, you just look really fucking good. you cut your hair." i said, my fingers brushing the ends as if my touch alone would make it grow back.

he nodded. "yeah, decided it was time for a change. they say hair holds memories, and all that held memories i would rather forget." he said, and i nodded in understanding.

it felt like a fresh start. he was different, looks and personality wise, and so was i.

"you look really good, too." he said, giving me a look over as i did a little twirl with a soft laugh.

"thank you. i thought a little makeover was due. especially to fit the theme of the album." i said, and he nodded.

"i haven't heard it yet. wanted to save it for when i got here. like a little surprise, you know?" and i nodded as the first song started playing over the speakers of my house, and him and i went to go outside and talk.

"i'm getting older, i think i'm aging well. i wish someone had told me i'd be doing this by myself."

"so, how's everything going with mystery girl?" i asked, and he furrowed his brows in confusion as it dawned on him.

"oh, her." he rubbed the back of his neck. "uh, we haven't really talked in a while. been taking time for myself, like you said." i smiled softly. "smart man."

"i'm not sentimental but there's something 'bout the way you look tonight. makes me wanna take a picture, make a movie with you that we'd have to hide."

what an understatement, i thought. noah raised his eyebrows at the lyrics, looking at me with a small smirk. i shrugged.

"do you think you're gonna make a move on her soon?" i asked.

"i might tonight, actually after the party."

i hummed, nodding my head and ignoring the jealousy that began to bubble up again. "how?"

"well," he began, looking at me and leaning closer. "i was thinking, i would take her upstairs, and-"

"[y/n]!!" nicholas exclaimed, approaching us.

NOAH'S POV.

i groaned, throwing my head back. just as i was about to make a move, we got interrupted. i watched [y/n] stand up with a smile on her face as she hugged nicholas, the memory of what was just about to happen seeming to disappear from her mind, though it lingered in mine.

if i didn't get to have her tonight, i didn't know if i ever would.

i'm so fucked.

i ran a hand through my hair, watching as nick and [y/n] spoke, before eventually, i couldn't take it anymore. i apologized to nick, taking [y/n]'s hand and dragging her upstairs.

"noah? what-" she began as i pulled her into her bedroom, closing and locking the door before pressing her up against it and pressing my lips to hers.

i could tell she was shocked. she put her hands on my chest, pushing lightly. "noah, what about-"

"you're her." i said

"what?"

"you're her, princess. you're the woman i was in love with. the woman i'm still in love with. fuck, i thought taking time would make these stupid feelings go away but the moment i saw you in this fucking dress i couldn't take it anymore. i need you, [y/n]. will you have me?"

she was quiet for a moment before she nodded slowly. "yes."

[alexihollis]

My Sister's Keeper

Cleon remembered the first time someone made her confront her relationship with Swan. It was Cochise, because of course it was, and it happened about three months after Swan first came into the Warriors - the morning after Cleon almost lost it.

It being her morals. Her ethics. The line in the sand she promised to never cross or blur. Yet what made her actually feel guilty that morning?

The sheer look of terror and panic on Swan's face. Cleon never wanted Swan to look at her like that again. Ever.

So Cleon had been brooding on the roof that morning, when Cochise came to find her. She dangled her legs next to Cleon's, over the edge, and stared out over the buildings.

"I never liked Peacock," Cochise said. "Remy and Warren weren't strong, either."

"Is that seriously how you want to start this?" Cleon asked.

"You know you fucked up. I'm not going to badger you about it."

Fucked up was almost too gentle a way of saying it.

"Do you want to talk about it, though?" Cochise asked.

Not really.

"You played it off pretty well," Cochise said. "Most people thought you were just trying to make a point. Scare the shit out of them and make them feel lucky that you only jumped them out."

That didn't make Cleon feel any less shitty. She never wanted people to be afraid of her, to follow her orders because they were afraid of what she might do.

"Cleon. Come on. What happened yesterday?" Cochise pushed once more.

"They could have killed her," Cleon finally said.

Her mind kept going back to the night before, when Rembrandt came running down the boardwalk and barely able to speak.

"What's wrong?" Cleon asked, because it clearly was something. Rembrandt could run, fast and hard, so to see her this out of breath was concerning, on multiple levels.

"Swan's jumping off roofs."

"The fuck do you mean Swan is jumping off of roofs?!"

Just that, it turned out. Cleon raced with Rembrandt to the streets with a few abandoned buildings. Some had storefronts on the first floors, with the upper levels being largely vacant or even abandoned. Down on the street, Ajax had Remy up against a wall, arm on her throat while Warren tried in vain to get Ajax off of her.

"Tell them to come down, now!" Ajax roared. "Or so help me God, Wren, I will crush her-"

"Ajax, let her down!" Cleon ordered as soon as she caught sight of them.

Ajax lessened her arm against Remy's throat, but did not drop her, turning furious eyes to Cleon. "Peacock's got Swan up there jumping-!"

"Fuck, there!" Rembrandt pointed up and, sure enough, there was Swan, leaping over the alley and onto another roof. Then back again.

Ajax swore under her breath before saying to Cleon, "She's been having her do that for nearly an hour, according to these clowns!"

"Then why didn't you go up there?!" Cleon demanded.

"Because Peacock locked all the fucking doors!" Ajax yelled back.

"I wanted to try scaling the fire escape, but Ajax lost her shit," Rembrandt crossed her arms.

Ajax looked at Cleon, almost begging Cleon to back her up, and Cleon could understand the very quick leap Ajax would make from Peacock making Swan jump between buildings to tossing Rembrandt off of one.

"No. No, you did the right thing, getting me," Cleon said as she yanked off her outer jacket and fuck it was cold. "Hair-tie?"

Rembrandt handed her a hair-tie.

"You're going up there?" Ajax asked.

Cleon nodded. "Meeting at the bar. Immediately. Rembrandt, go tell everyone. Ajax - get these two idiots to the bar."

Ajax and Rembrandt shared a look.

"Yes, ma'am," Ajax half-saluted, before heading off, Remy and Warren ashen-looking behind her.

Rembrandt hung back just an extra second. "Everyone everyone?"

"Any single soldier associated with us, I want them there."

Rembrandt's eyes went a bit wide, but she nodded.

It wasn't too difficult, in the end, using the fire escapes to get up to the roof, until the last one. That last one involved a bit of a precarious jump, but she survived. The look on Peacock's face was more than enough.

"Swan, if you even think about jumping one more time, I'll have you scrubbing dishes in Jenkins' for a month," Cleon threatened as soon as she stood on the roof. Swan jumped off the ledge, back onto the roof's floor.

"Cleon-" Peacock tried.

"Don't talk," Cleon all but growled, eyes narrowed. "We're having a meeting at the bar. Get there. Now."

"But-"

"I said don't talk!" Cleon yelled. Peacock's teeth clacked with how quickly she shut her mouth. "Get there. If you even think about running, you better fucking pray you're out of this city before I'm able to track you down."

Peacock nodded and practically ran to the door to get off the roof. Once the door closed behind her, Cleon turned to Swan, fully prepared to read her the riot act.

Only to find Swan doubled over, hands on her knees, breathing heavily.

Shit.

"Hey, hey," Cleon was at Swan's side in a second, hand on Swan's back. She could feel her breathing, feel her heart racing even through her shirt and vest. "Breathe, c'mon. You okay?"

Swan nodded. Took a couple more heaving breaths. "Yeah. Yeah, just- just tired."

"Sit down," Cleon helped Swan sit, leaning up against the roof ledge. Swan's skin felt hot to the touch and her face was covered in sweat, even in the cold. "Shit, Swan."

"Sorry," Swan managed through her breathing, eyes closed and head leaned back as she tried to catch her breath.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Cleon couldn't help herself.

Swan shrugged.

"I'm gonna need an answer." Anger tinged Cleon's words.

Swan opened one eye, looked at Cleon. She closed it once again and sighed, her face the picture of resignation. "Initiation."

Initiation? "You've been initiated."

"Not to Peacock," Swan said. "She said mine wasn't good enough. That I hadn't proven myself to the other soldiers."

Cleon blinked. "You went toe-to-toe with Ajax."

"Who went easy on me."

"Ajax goes easy on no one. Not even Rembrandt," Cleon said. "She just doesn't let Rembrandt hit the floor as hard as she lets the rest of you."

Which Rembrandt bitched about anyway, but that was their business and Ajax rarely sparred against Rembrandt in the first place.

Swan scoffed. "Then how'd I get her down so fast?"

"...because you're a good fighter."

"I'm not stronger than Ajax."

"You aren't stronger," Cleon agreed. "But you use your head. You figured out her weaknesses and you used her own strength and frame against her. Not to mention, Ajax practically taught you how to take her down. She wanted you to win, fair and square. Even if she'll never admit it."

For as much as Ajax had bitched that night, now over a month ago, Cleon saw the smiles. The way she ruffled Swan's hair. Ajax had been proud about how that fight went down, proud of Swan, happy with her own ability to teach new Warriors. Cleon had been happy with her choice of an initiation task for Swan. The task had only been to have an official spar with Ajax, she didn't require Swan to win, but the win had been an undeniable bonus. The other soldiers looked at Swan with a new respect, talked to her a bit more seriously, stopped looking at Swan like the little Boardwalk Stray Cleon brought home to die on her couch. Overall, a good night.

"Did Peacock say Ajax threw the fight?" Cleon asked.

Swan didn't say anything.

"Swan."

With a sigh, Swan nodded.

"That fucking bitch," Cleon ground her teeth.

She'd had issues with Peacock before. Peacock came to them a massively insecure person and, despite her near year long tenure with the Warriors, still caused problems about it. Cleon had been trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, but this was too far, for anyone.

"How the Hell did she come to the conclusion to have you jump roofs?" Cleon asked.

"...I didn't want to go to the Wonder Wheel."

"She was going to have you jump off the Wonder Wheel?!"

"No!" Swan exclaimed, laughed a bit even at Cleon's panic. "No. Some of the others wanted to go ride the Wonder Wheel and I said no. She asked why, said I didn't want to. She pushed more and I said I'm afraid of heights. And I am, so..." Swan shrugged.

Cleon felt like Swan dumped a bucket of ice on her head. "You're afraid of heights?"

Swan nodded. "Always have been. Weak in the knees and everything. Which is stupid and I need to get over it and Peacock said she had a way of helping me get over it."

It was then that Cleon started to lose it a bit. She barely remembered helping Swan back to her feet and down the building. She remembered walking into the bar, eerily quiet for how full it was, and Swan freezing for just a second, forcing herself to not hide behind Cleon the way she so clearly wanted to.

Cleon remembered telling Swan to go stand with Cowgirl, who seemed concerned and quickly put an arm around Swan, whispering and handing her a bandana to wipe off her sweat-soaked face.

Cleon did not remember what she said in that meeting. Some accusation about Peacock trying to kill a new member, which was a bit of an exaggeration. At some point, Cleon threatened to make the three of them jump from rooftop to rooftop, asked how they would like it. Some grandstanding about her girls having choices, being allowed to do what they wanted in their free time, and if anyone had an issue with someone else's initiation, they could address those at Cleon. And somewhere along the way, Cleon made it clear that she wanted Peacock, Remy, and Warren dead.

Which went against everything Cleon ever claimed to stand for. Her worst punishment, the absolute, was jumping out. That was it, she'd always said. And if Cochise hadn't been there, hadn't shook her head, hadn't cocked her head at Swan, who looked absolutely terrified-

Cleon wasn't sure what she would have done.

But Cochise was there and Swan did look like that and Cleon demanded the three's colors and told Ajax to throw them out of the island. Said she never wanted to hear their names again and that was that.

"Why would they do that?" Cleon asked Cochise, back on the roof, back in the sunshine.

Cochise sighed. Shook her head. "Who knows? Peacock...Peacock has problems. Maybe she was jealous?"

"Jealous?"

"You've never been this close to a recruit before," Cochise said. "And...you haven't had a number two before, either. Everyone's been more or less equal."

"Really?" Cleon deadpanned, gesturing to where they sat.

Cochise laughed. "You have friends. Sure. But you don't let anyone else make calls. You don't delegate the responsibility, really. I mean, you've got me. You use Cowgirl and Ajax to manage the soldiers and Rembrandt keeps the scouts in line, mostly, but you don't ask us to make decisions. You don't run your ideas by us."

"I don't do that with Swan, either," Cleon said.

Cochise tilted her head from side to side, before, "Yet."

"...yet?"

"You haven't introduced me personally to any of our neighbor gang leaders," Cochise said.

"She lives in my apartment!"

"Yeah, isn't that interesting?"

Cleon groaned, rubbing at her temple. "I just- I care about her. I care about all of you!"

"Hey, she cares about you, too," Cochise checked her shoulder. "I think she's enjoyed being the little sister, for once." Then, after a moment, "I think you've enjoyed having one again."

Cleon felt sick. "Please don't."

"Okay. Okay, I won't," Cochise promised. And she didn't, that day. They moved on and Cleon tried to ignore what Cochise said.

Ignore. Explain away. No, Cleon was not paying extra attention the time because she sent Swan on that job. And even if she was - Swan was still new, youngest recruit Cleon ever got at only seventeen, it made sense to be more vigilant with her.

No, Cleon did not purposely give Swan a task to do at home when the others wanted to go out to a bar. And even if she did, seventeen, Swan was too young for that shit, even if Ajax got her a fake ID.

It doesn't matter what happened to that fake ID, they would get Swan a real one soon enough, when she turned eighteen, don't worry about it.

Over the years, it got harder to ignore, but easier to live with. Swan would narrow her eyes sometimes, when Cleon did something a bit too overprotective, would raise an eyebrow and ask Cleon to repeat herself. Usually, that would be enough for Cleon to back down. Adjust it to a more reasonable request, particularly after it became clear that Swan was quickly on her way to becoming Cleon's number two. Especially after Cleon named Swan her number two on Swan's twentieth birthday.

"That means you're going to have to let me make decisions, you know," Swan said later that night, curled up on the couch in their apartment, clearly tired but not wanting to go to bed just yet.

"I trust you," Cleon said. Honest.

Swan nodded. Was quiet for a moment, in that way that meant she had something important to say. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too."

And Swan smiled, got up from the couch and pressed a firm kiss to the top of Cleon's head, before going to bed.

It was three years later when the Night from Hell came. When Cleon got separated from her crew and spent the night cursing Masai, the Riffs, even Cyrus, all to try and drown out the beating drum of You made them come.

You made Swan come, when she didn't want to.

When she was afraid.

When she asked you- begged you to reconsider.

You made Swan come.

Cleon's biggest failing as a leader came as the sun rose on Coney Island and her first thought upon seeing her crew, upon learning about Fox and Ajax: Thank God it wasn't Swan. She would never forgive herself for that one, even as the pain hit properly. Ajax - they would get Ajax back, but when was still unknown and Rembrandt looked shattered.

Fox, though? Fox was gone. Forever. In a horrifically familiar way that reminded Cleon of shattering windows and a young girl's last moments and-

Cleon couldn't think about it too long.

On top of all of that...Mercy.

Strange name for an even stranger girl who Cleon first met wearing Swan's vest. Cleon made sure to get Mercy a vest of her own quickly, seeing as Swan was apparently allergic to Mercy not wearing Warriors' colors.

As Cleon handed the vest to Mercy, with eyes so wide Cleon worried that they might actually pop out of her head, she looked at Swan: "And put your own damn vest on. It's been days."

Swan just rolled her eyes, a soft smile as she watched Mercy put her vest on and taking her damn sweet time putting her own back on. Cleon felt a little better as soon as the vest was on. Made her think a little less of a young teenager curled up in the sand under the boardwalk.

"You've got to stop staring at Mercy like that," Cochise said after about a week of Mercy living in her house.

"What are you talking about?" Cleon looked at Cochise. Mercy and Swan had just left, leaving the two of them alone in the living room.

Cochise raised an eyebrow.

"Listen," Cleon tried to defend herself. "This is the first time Swan's recruited someone. I'm just getting a feel for her."

"Uh-huh. And how good of a feel are you getting scaring her out of every room she's in?" Cochise asked.

"That's suspicious, right?" Cleon asked.

Cochise took a deep breath. "What do you mean?"

"Its suspicious that she's so nervous around me. Why would she be so nervous if she wasn't hiding something?"

"Oh, good God, why did I think this was going to go any other way?" Cochise rubbed at her forehead. "Cleon. I'm serious. Don't fuck this up for Swan."

"I'm not-"

"Cleon. Listen to me. Swan really likes her. I mean, really likes her and I think she's the only thing keeping Swan together right now, you cannot become Scary Big Sister right now."

Cleon sputtered. "I am not-"

"You are."

Cleon quieted. Stewed for a moment. "Swan won't talk to me about Fox."

Cochise snorted, a defeated sound. "Join the club. She won't talk to anyone."

"Except Mercy," Cleon filled in.

Cochise nodded. "Exactly. Don't have a singular clue what it is about this girl, but...Swan feels safe around her."

Which was great! Cleon was happy about that! She really was.

So she tried. She really, really tried to talk to Mercy.

Mercy just had a very great ability to not be in the same place as Cleon, ever, unless there was at least two other people around. When there were others around, she was fine. She talked, joked, and Cleon found that she even kind of liked Mercy. Hell, if Cleon met Mercy on the street and Mercy seemed on the look, Cleon might have tried to recruit Mercy herself.

"How'd you end up running with the Orphans anyway?" Cleon asked one Sunday morning, a couple months after the Night from Hell, about three weeks after Ajax got home.

"Oh, yeah! What was the story behind that?" Cowgirl asked through a giant mouthful of pancake.

Mercy winced a bit. "Uh. No story, really."

"...are you sure?" Cowgirl poked, everyone now staring at Mercy.

"Cowgirl-" Swan started, eyes narrowed.

Mercy came to Cowgirl's rescue, though, with a groan. "It's not like that, it's just embarrassing."

Which peaked Ajax's interest, "Okay, now you have to tell us."

Mercy groaned, louder, burying her face in her hands. Swan chuckled a bit, rubbing Mercy's back. Swan laughed a lot more now. That was a point in Mercy's favor.

"I didn't realize Sully was hitting on me," Mercy said into her hands.

Silence. Cowgirl even stopped chewing.

Rembrandt carefully put her cup of coffee back on the table, straightening a bit and leaning towards Mercy. "Mercy. Mercy, what does that even mean?" Her voice was barely restrained from a laugh at the mere implications of what Mercy said.

"I didn't realize Sully was hitting on me. I thought he knew about some youth shelter," Mercy still would not remove her face from her hands, but she did peak through her fingers. "And it was really cold and the next thing I knew, I'm standing in front of his gang and he's saying I'm his girlfriend. I didn't know what to do, so I just went with it. You showed up, like, two weeks later."

Silence.

Then, Rembrandt: "You knew Swan was into you when you-?"

Mercy threw the napkin at Rembrandt's head as everyone else exploded into laughter. "Swan was a lot more direct than Sully!"

"Direct, she says, as if she didn't start a rumble and then help us light up her own gang," Ajax laughed.

Which-

Yeah.

Cleon had not heard that part of the story. "What happened exactly?"

"You know, it's really not that important," Cochise tried, but trailed off at Cleon's look. Instead, "Swan, you're a dumbass."

"It wasn't a big deal," Swan tried after Cleon had all but dragged Swan to her bedroom.

"One rule. We have one rule with recruits, what is it?" Cleon asked.

"No kids," Swan deadpanned. At Cleon's glare, she tsked, "No one who's ever shown violence to our own."

"Exactly."

"She wasn't violent!" Swan argued. "Besides, she helped us-"

"Against her own gang!"

"She just explained that she never meant to join that gang!"

Cleon shook her head. "I don't like it. I don't like that it happened and I don't like that you didn't tell me!"

"Because I knew you would overreact," Swan said.

"We agreed!"

"She wasn't violent-!"

"Then why not tell me?" Cleon asked.

"Because I knew you would overreact. You always overreact when it's me!" Swan yelled. "She already had a strike against her because I liked her, I didn't want to give you another reason not to like her!"

"I did not-"

"Then why haven't you spent any time with her?" Swan asked.

Cleon sputtered, "I've tried!"

"No, you haven't. At all. And I know Mercy's jumpy around you, but it's because she's scared of you! She's worried you're going to decide to jump her out if she steps a single toe out of line-"

"She should be!"

Swan stopped. Stared at Cleon and Cleon knew she fucked up. "That's awful."

Cleon swallowed bile in her throat, "That's not what I meant."

"That's what you just said," Swan retorted.

How did this go wrong so fast? "Can we sit down?"

Swan sat as far from Cleon on the edge of the bed as possible, arms crossed and scowling down at the carpet.

"Look, I trust you," Cleon started. "And because I trust you, I trust Mercy. To an extent. Learning that you kept this from me...It makes me wonder if I can trust Mercy after all."

"You've never been like this with Rembrandt and Ajax."

"Rembrandt and Ajax came to us as Rembrandt and Ajax," Cleon said. "This is different."

Swan scowled harder. "It's different because you don't trust me."

"I do," Cleon stressed. "But- I mean, c'mon you hid-"

"You don't trust me, you don't listen to me, which is why I couldn't tell you," Swan interrupted, looking at Cleon.

"When have I not listened to you-?"

"When I told you I didn't want to go uptown!"

Cleon felt all the air leave her at once. Felt like she wanted to cry and throw up at the same time. "Well. At least that was honest."

Swan looked horrified. "That wasn't what I meant."

"That's what you said," Cleon muttered, feeling hollow.

"Fuck," Swan muttered under her breath. "Cleon, I don't- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but you kept- I don't blame you."

"You should." Cleon did.

"I don't," Swan stressed.

Cleon felt the bed shift, just slightly, looked up to see Swan doing that hovering thing she did. When she wanted a hug, but didn't know if she was allowed. Cleon held her arm open and Swan was right by her side, Cleon holding her tight.

"I'm sorry," Swan said, quiet.

"I'm sorry, too. I should have just trusted you. Ajax wouldn't have joked about it if she thought it was serious." Then, after a quiet moment, "Do you talk about that sort of thing with Mercy?"

"...about that night?"

Cleon nodded.

"Yeah," Swan said. "It's easier. She wasn't there for the lead up and...I don't blame you, but I was...angry. In the beginning."

Cleon never even knew. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to be angry," Swan said. "I didn't think you deserved it. I just felt it, which was weird. Mercy says that happens sometimes."

Damn.

Out of everything, emotional intelligence was not a skill Cleon expected from Mercy.

"I'm not worried about being little, broken Swan in front of her," Swan continued. "Everyone else...I'm worried that if I tell them that shit, they'll just think of the kid you found on the boardwalk."

"I get that," Cleon sighed. As much as she hated it.

Cleon put more effort into spending time with Mercy after that. Starting with running jobs with Mercy alone, which made the girl go alarmingly pale the first time Cleon announced it.

Mercy did not speak the whole way into Manhattan. Nothing more than a "yes, ma'am," while on the job. And nearly nothing on the way back.

Until Cleon finally broke and said, "I do like you, you know."

Mercy's eyes widened. "Oh! Uh- that's good!"

Wow. Mercy really was freaked out by her. That was not supposed to be a good thing, Cleon tried to remind herself.

"You're good for Swan," Cleon said. "That helps."

Mercy shook her head, "Swan's good for me. She's- she's the best person I know."

Good. "Yeah. I think so, too."

Mercy smiled at that, just a bit.

"You better not hurt her," Cleon said. Because she had to.

"Full permission to push me off the top of the Wonder Wheel if I do."

It also helped that Mercy was genuinely smart. The more jobs they ran, the more Cleon saw it.

Then Mercy saved her ass. Pulled her deep into an alley, directed them into a double back, and onto a train headed into the Bronx that they changed for the southbound at the next stop.

Because she noticed a cop tailing them that Cleon never spotted, until they were running from him to catch the train.

"Holy shit," Cleon muttered as soon as they were on the train home, Mercy out of breath next to her from the sheer anxiety. "Okay. That was way too close."

"Too close," Mercy nodded in agreement. Then, "Swan doesn't need to know-"

"Absolutely not, she doesn't need to know shit," Cleon agreed.

Mercy nodded. But then a conflicted look appeared on her face.

Cleon sighed, "You can't actually not tell her, can you?"

"Not a chance," Mercy admitted.

Fantastic.

Cleon couldn't help but smile a little, though, even when Mercy guiltily recounted what happened on the job and Swan launched off into lecture mode on the two of them.

They were good together, Cleon decided.

Mercy was good for Swan.

[user94271643999]

January 3rd 2025

CW binge vent

So I fucked up. I was debating even posting today because I feel so guilty. So my mum made lasagna and I knew she was and so I was mentally preparing myself and I thought I had it but idk what happened, I was putting my plate on the table and suddenly I was putting more on my plate and fuck I thought that would be it and I would be okay but Suddenly I was in the fridge and I was eating the fucking chocolate and god I could already feel the guiltiness setting in so I tried to purge but it wouldn’t work

so i’ve taken laxies but i don’t feel better honestly I really wanna rip my skin off.

I’ve did my work out routine 4 times so I’ve burned 800 cals but I didn’t count how much I ate because it would just make me feel worse.

I welcome all of you to be mean to me in the comments because I deserve it. I’ going to try and fast for about 3 days.

Amelia

[deoidesign]

Hi, how did you learn to draw Steve's physique?

Ohh what a complicated thing to answer...

When it comes to how I learned to draw anything, it's hard to say anything too specific since it's always a culmination of many years of assorted study and practice... but I can try to do my best to explain some of the biggest things that helped me learn, some tips I keep in mind, and maybe at least some places to start/delve further.

(just a little disclaimer it's not like my drawings here are going to be 100% medically accurate.. they're just to illustrate concepts!)

The main thing about learning various physiques is understanding anatomy. Which feels obvious, but I don't mean proportions; these are important, but perhaps more important is understanding the skeleton and how it moves and learning where muscles connect to bones and where fat grows on the body. When you understand how these function on a more mechanical level, depicting form and movement in a way that feels natural comes in tow.

For instance, understanding things like the pronation and supination of the radius and ulna, as well as the fact that muscles can ONLY contract or relax, will help you understand a bit better which muscles will be flexed and which will not while someone moves. It's inherent to the positioning based on the structural makeup of the body... It's not like you NEED to memorize all the muscles and bones, of course, but understanding and gaining at least a passive familiarity with the concepts really helps.

In tandem with this concept is the way parts of the body flow into eachother. Muscles ALWAYS come in groups because they can only contract. Whatever muscle is there to lift something, there is a muscle on the other side to pull that bone back down. What this results in is a series of straight edges next to curves, which gives us a lot of really lovely "s curves" and dents and folds and so on and so forth just naturally occurring.

I would suggest at least learning the "bony landmarks", which are bones (usually) visible on the surface of the body. things like the iliac crest, the great trochanter, the 7th vertabrae, the acromion process... These can be used to help you understand the parts of the body as angles and relationships, rather than trying to remember lengths and sizes, which vary immensely... (since you asked about steve, he can be our model... also study these on your own don't just take my word for it haha, these are the ones I personally keep in mind)

I've done the same thing with body hair... learning where it grows and in which directions... It helps me make up variations without needing reference, because I have a set of rules I can follow.

The biggest thing that helped me understand all this on a much deeper level was my ecorche course. I sculpted this guy. We started by sculpting the entire skeleton to understand the bones, and then we added muscles on top. Not every single muscle, of course, but the "artistic muscles" AKA the ones which directly affect the surface of the body. Doing this let us see where muscles connect, because we would make a shape, put it on the bone where it actually goes, and then you get to see how other muscles overlap that.

This helped me, perhaps, more than anything else. But I also didn't just start with this course, I had been drawing for years before I even took it. I had been in school for years before I took it. Not that I think it wouldn't be helpful to someone just starting out, but I do think that the more you know going in, the better an in-depth course like this will help you and stick with you. Classes are also expensive, though so I'm not really like... recommending you pay potentially thousands of dollars to take one... But it did help me a lot, personally.

I also, of course, have done many figure, gesture, and master studies...

These just help you quickly gain a stronger understanding of generalized anatomy, and gives you real life examples of and practice with of how people move and balance.

What all this does when combined, is gives me a very solid ability to depict movement and form in a way that feels relatively natural from my subconscious without the need for reference.

The rest of how I've learned to draw his physique is honestly mostly just stylization. I understand the body, and this is how I am depicting it for his level of musculature.

And as I move into depicting him in other ways, either moving in comics or in animation, realistically rendered, or extra stylized, these concepts inform every step of that process for me! When he keeps the same/similar relationships between parts, he gets to still look like himself.

It ALSO really helps when putting clothes on, because the way cloth falls and bunches and lifts is all directly related to the form it is on... So the more you understand that form, the more you can depict clothing and movement in a way that feels natural.

This is all, of course, true when I draw anyone, you asked about Steve so I'm trying to mostly show with him! But because I'm just drawing from raw information of general anatomy rather than trying to study one body type at a time, it allows a lot more "give," I think!

Like, here's most of the cast from TTA so far... actually, they're not as varied as I thought they were nevermind LMAO ignore this part

But, it also makes monster and alien design much easier! It's a lot easier to come up with non-human anatomy when I understand human anatomy, because I can manipulate the knowledge I have...

There is infinite more to study in the world of anatomy... The complexity of the human body goes extremely deep. For our purposes as artists, we need only depict a fraction of it, but more information rarely hurts the process.

I'm sure there's something in here that's wrong on a technical level, I'm mostly going off of memory. But that's kind of my point - I understand enough generally and conceptually that when I am missing something and need to find reference for it, I understand what I'm looking at. It's much easier than trying to learn AND draw at the same time.

I hope even one thing in here helped you! Sorry it's so long.

[wycross]

i cant stop thinking about yuuta now. like sure i liked him well enough but after this chapter he has my entire heart. and he is so so so tragic. (of course he is everyone here is)

its this that i keep going back to in my head. it encapsulates what i think is yuuta's grief.

right before this, of course, we've seen him screaming about how nobody ever cared about demanding gojo to be a monster. he cares for gojo so deeply, of course, because gojo saved him, gojo is practically his dad, and he actually sees gojo.

hes a special grade, one of few, and out of the special grades, i think hes the only one with realistic potential to surpass gojo. he has the potential to be gojos peer, so gojo doesnt have to be alone. hes the only one strong enough to save gojo, in a way, to actually take up his burden and allow gojo to be human in a way he hasnt been since geto.

but yuuta is simply too late. hes too young, too unpolished, too late. gojo's already been a monster for a decade, with no other choice and with nobody to stand by his side. yuuta cant save him now.

thats what i think really crystallized for me in this panel. yuuta is telling gojo about his plan, the plan that was so controversial with everyone else because of yuuta's humanity being on the line, the plan that only he could ever pull off. and gojo shrugs it off, not shocked in the least, and just tells yuuta that he's got to keep working because he's not good enough yet.

the talk about yuuta's heritage is so important to this too. "you might've been born even more blessed than me". does that ring any bells, maybe? "i alone am the honored one?"

gojo is acknowledging that yuuta could've been at his side, could've been strong enough to save satoru, for him to not be alone in this curse of a blessing of strength anymore. but hes just. too. late.