#why is my empathy button broken

[xyriath]

y'know i can talk big and meme a bunch but the second i saw the pic of the oceangate victims i couldn't stop crying

[exanimateisacomic]

F*** it, we doing a small Batman story with my fellas.

Batman surveyed the city skyline, the rain pelting his suit as he observed over a seemingly quiet night.

Suddenly he heard a tearing noise from behind him. He quickly turned around, batarang in hand and saw what looked like the sky itself being torn open in a glowing inferno, the edges seemingly in a constant state of burning. It hung just a few feet away from him.

He held his pose when he saw something- no someone, fall from the portal

——

Levi fell and hit the ground hard.

The pain wasn’t bad, just the sudden fall and ass landing was unpleasant. The was an audible crunch heard, but nothing felt broken.

Levi opened eyes to see the portal close, mending the dark overcast skies. He felt the rain hit his face.

He sat up and held his head in his hands, getting his bearings. He looked up and saw he somehow ended up on a rooftop of some kind. He stood up to see more.

A sprawling city with misery and gloom permeating everything in sight.

He was so transfixed on his surroundings, he didn’t notice the large figure approaching him. Not until he spoke.

“Who are you? And where did you come from?” Demanded a booming voice.

Levi yelped in surprised and whipped his head around until he locked eyes with- a man in some sort of costume. He had blue eyes and a black cowl that had points jutting upwards out from it. Kind of like… bat ears? Guess that would kinda explain the large symbol on his chest. He also noted the weapon in his hand. A knife? A boomerang? He was befuddled.

“Wha-“ he muttered.

The costumed man asked “Answer me.”

Levi flinched “wuh- I- I am Levi. Levi Morris.” His arms reflexively shot up in a defensive manner as he cowered away. “and I- I came from- uh… the afterlife.”

There was a pause. Levi took in labored breaths.

——

Batman took in the demon’s words. He glared down at the being shielding themself.

He knows when someone is scared, especially if they’re innocent

But their skin… and the horns…

——

“Are you a demon?” The man asked, in a more quizzical tone.

Levi hesitated, reaching up to feel if his horns were still visible. “y-yes sir.” He admitted

He closed his eyes, preparing for some form of assault. The rain was soaking through his clothes as he stood there.

——

Batman’s grip on his batarang tightened as he asked his next question, this will determine how he’ll proceed next.

——

“Are you a threat?” The voice asked, less booming but still stung with a tone of seriousness.

There was a brief pause.

“N-no sir. I-I am not.” Levi responded “I was just m-minding my business when- uh… I do not know how to explain it… uh, wait Luis!” Levi straightened up “Luis could explain it” his hands fumbled for his pockets, he the pulled out his phone “my- my friend Luis can-“

he stopped when he saw the cracked phone screen, he clicked the home button, the unresponsive black mirror reflecting its inoperative state collecting rain droplets.

His mouth hung agape.

——

Batman finally could see the demon’s face.

Its eyes were green and soft, cat like in apperance.

He put the batarang away.

This was not a threat.

——

“Oh…I- I can not call him.” He finally said as he put the phone back and hung his head in disbelief.

Levi could feel the tension from the costumed man lessen, empathy?

He slumped to his knees. “If I cannot call him, he cannot get me back home.” He brought in his chest to his knees. “Oh, why did I have to fall through the portal?”

Levi stifled a cry when he realized the rain had stopped falling on him. He glanced up to see the costumed man holding up his cape over him, shielding him from the rain.

“If your phone gets repaired, can you return home?” He asked.

Levi nodded “y-yes sir.” He sniffled as he found the strength to stand up. “C-can you help me?”

The man stared at him before bringing his free hand to his ear “Alfred, I’m dropping someone off at the cave. I’ll be helping him but but I need Oracle. I’ll be back after my patrol, please see to it he is taken care of in the meantime.”

Levi could his ear piece chirp up “very well sir, shall I inform our current guests?” Said a distinguished voice.

“Affirmative” the man said back, pulling his hand away from his ear

The man looked back at Levi “this way” he swished his cape around and started walking towards a fire escape.

As soon as Levi made it over to the ledge, the costumed man leapt over and plummeted to the ground.

“Aah!” he uttered before seeing him use his cape to slow his decent and landing in a dramatic fashion.

Levi was impressed by that feat, except it was overshadowed when he saw the man’s car. It was more like a streamlined tank than any car he’d seen before.

He got down to the ground and just stared at the car.

“Get in” the man demanded, Levi rushed over to the passenger side and climbed in.

And the top slid shut, the car started and the instrument panel lit up. Levi kinda relaxed as he felt the rumble of the engine through his seat.

As his mind relaxed, a question came to mind. Levi sat up in the seat “wait a minute sir, I-i never got your name. Who-who are you?”

The man paused, turned to Levi and just said “I’m Batman” before hitting the gas and speeding off

——

After passing through the city and into the entrance of the cave, the bat mobile parked in its usual spot.

Alfred was in his, standing ready with a change of clothes (the details were sorted between the young demon and Batman on the way) and a cup of hot cocoa.

——

The lid of the mobile opened up and the demon blinked from the sudden lighting change from the vehicle to the cave. He glanced up and around at the amazing lair he was in.

He got up and out of the car and stood there shivering, not noticing the older man standing ready for him.

“And you must be the guest I’ve been informed on?” He spoke in a polite British accent, startling Levi.

“GuH! uh, y- yeah. That is me.” Levi nervously. “Levi m-Morris.”

The man nodded. “you may call me Alfred.” He gestured the bundle of clothes in his arm. “here I have a change of clothes for you, there’s a bathroom right across from us you may use.” He handed the clothes to Levi

“Oh, t- thanks.” He felt the material in his hands “cotton.” He muttered

“98 percent, with 2 percent being spandex, as is common in most sweat clothing” Alfred noted

Levi nodded “of course. Um…”

Before he could continue, the platform they were standing on rotated and the vehicle fired up once more, launching away into the opening of the cave and back out into the night.

Levi looked on in awe. “Wow. That is cool.”

“Indeed it is” Alfred continued “now get dressed so I may clean your soaked clothes. Plus your cocoa is getting cold.”

Levi snapped back to Alfred “oh, right. Sorry.”

He wandered over to the bathroom door, pausing to look at the oddly comedic “bat mens” sign in the door. “Huh, that does not seem like his sense of humor.” He mutters as he walks in.

——

“Did you see that thing?” A voice said “I thought I’d seen a lot but this guy is a new kind of weird” he said, his tone implying he said it with a smirk

“Hush Richard. You know I don’t like to communicate while hiding.” Another voice replied, sounding much younger and yet just as serious as batman’s “it gives away your location”

“God you sound like Bruce- Why would that matter here? Alfred is the only other soul down here and Jason is upstairs. Besides, he isn’t that threatening looking. He’s like a cat you or Selena would’ve picked up”

“…I doubt that” the young voice replied. “You don’t give innocence teeth like his.”

——

Levi observed his teeth in the mirror. He leaned away and looked down at his temporary clothes. A dark grey sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, dark socks and underwear. Luckily his shoes weren’t soaked.

He felt the shirt and smiled “soft.”

He turned away and went to his soggy clothes, pulling out all the items from his pockets.

some caramel candies, a small resealable bag of Smelling Salt (Still dry thankfully), a plastic mechanical pencil, a comb, and his broken phone. He stuck these items into his new sweatpants.

He folded his clothes neatly and brought them back out. He saw Alfred over by a large imposing computer as he wandered up to him.

“Where- where would like me to uh- set these down?” Levi asked looking around the vast cave.

“Let’s switch sir, here.” Alfred reached out with one hand and took the wet clothes while Levi took the mug.

Alfred nodded. “I’ll get started on this promptly, will you be okay down here while I wash these?” He asked

Levi looked away from Alfred and up in the ceiling of the cave, his hands tapping on the mug.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Morris?” Alfred questions

Levi turned to him, finding his focus “oh… Well… I will be when those two people come down here.” He said, pointing up

Alfred raised a brow, Levi continued “I-I can not really explain it but I can tell they’re up there.”

He then leaned away from Alfred and yelled “also you two were right by an air vent that connects to the vents in the bathroom so uh… I- I kinda overheard what you were saying about- about me.”

There was a faint “I told you so!” From the rafters, followed by what sounded like a punch that echoed around the spacious room.

Alfred looked up and then back down at Levi, taking a pause to smirk slightly “in that case” Alfred the took a hand to his ear, similar to what Batman did earlier “Nightwing, Robin, would you please decend and introduce yourselves properly?”

Levi could hear the tinny groan over the comms as there was movement up above before two more costumed peopled dropped down. One was a young man, a good 10-20 years younger than Batman. He had a slim fitting black suit that was sporting a large blue bird on his chest. He had a smile that read like ‘ya caught me’. The other was just a kid, only his suit was black with red, yellow and green elements and sported a sword and a scowl.

“Hi, I’m Nightwing and this is Robin” the young man said

Levi pointed to the man “Nightwing.” Nightwing gave a nod. And then pointed to the child “Robin” Robin just scowled harder.

Levi nodded slowly “right… so what is the deal here?”

The slience hung for a sec before Nightwing broke it “what do you mean?”

Levi clarified, curiosity overpowering his shyness “I mean the whole super hero thing happening here, why does Batman do- whatever he does, why is there a younger man and a literal child here seemingly in the same business?”

“Well, those- those are some fair points to make.” Nightwing quips

“Surface level observations at best.” Robin interjects “I want to know more about you, demon.” He said as he raised his sheathed sword towards Levi, pointing it into his face.

Levi flinched and stepped back. “F-fair enough. I-I can answer a few que-“

The bottom of the sheath nudged closer to his face “What is your name?”

“L-Levi. Levi Morris.” He stammered, getting a sense of Deja vu.

Robin squinted “and where do you hail from?”

Levi swallowed hard “um- t-the afterlife.”

“Which part, Heaven? Or Hell?” He demanded

Levi had to think for a second. “It is not really a heaven or hell kind of place it is-“ he paused “it is like Gotham, Some parts are nicer than others.”

Nightwing asked the next question “why are you not using contractions? And why is your face so… uneven?”

Levi looked away from Robin to Nightwing. “Uh…that- that has an interesting backstory…I- I guess I would have to start with saying that this-“ he gestures to himself “-is not my own body…”

——

Levi found himself sitting at a metal table with his mug of cocoa and a bowl of multi-colored mini-marshmallows. He could feel their eyes studying him and his movements.

“Okay… this is what I know about me.” He stated, he then slid the mug in front of him.

“This is a human body.” He picked up a white marshmallow “this is a human soul, this is what makes a person a person.” He drops it in the mug “but humans also have this” He picked up a pink marshmallow “this is a Inner demon.”

“Isn’t that just a metaphor for addiction and indecent tendencies?” Robin interjected.

Levi paused “yes, and it is also a negative being that lives in all humans.”

Nightwing was about to speak when Levi raised his hand “no, it is not responsible for people’s actions. Instead, In life this inner demon may or may not influence a human and their actions. Could they be blamed? Sure, but it’s not always the case.” He said as he plopped the marshmallow in his mug. “So this is your average human. A body, a soul and an inner demon. And in death, a human will take on a more demonic appearance, and will typically act more- unhinged, I will say.”

“What does this childish demonstration have to do with you?” Robin demanded.

“Right” Levi went and picked up a green marshmallow. “Here is another human soul.” He took a bite, halving the treat.

“YOU EAT HUMAN SOULS?” Nightwing exclaimed

Levi paused, looking confused “n-no, just- here.” He fished out the pink marshmallow and took a bite from it too. He then took both pieces and mashed them together. “Here we have an anomaly. Something that is both an inner demon and a human soul, fused and congealed together. This” he dropped the fused marshmallow “is me.”

Nightwing and Robin looked at the mug.

Levi sighed as he too looked at the mug. “Some time ago, Seth Morris passed away. That is who this body belongs to. When he ended up in the afterlife, due to events I am not privy to, his inner demon took over and he became a demon.” He gestured at his face “But, because somewhere along the way, another soul was inserted into his body and melded with the inner demon entity. So that is when I was able to take control.”

“How?” Nightwing asks “how does that work”

“Honestly, I do not know. My friend Luis has hypothesized that because I am not Seth’s soul I cannot control his body directly, But I can if the demon is currently possessing him.”

Levi took the mug and brought it closer to him “I-I do apologize if I was rambling or was unclear, I can clarify details if needed.”

Robin crossed his arms “so this demonic appearance isn’t your true form?”

Levi shook his head. “This is the face of the demon Seth would become if I was not in his body.” He brought the mug up to his lips “although I doubt his horns would be lopsided like mine are” he finally took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste and warmth of the drink.

“You didn’t explain your face.” Nightwing commented.

Levi then looked at him nervously. “Well… that is because of…” he let out a sigh. “Because of this.”

Levi open his mouth, his lips stretching upwards and his jaw seemingly becoming unhinged and his maw opened wide like a snake.

Nightwing scooted back, the chair making a metallic skidding sound. Robin was unamused.

Levi closed his mouth and shyly hung his head low “I- I am sorry.”

“And the lack of contractions?”

Levi looked even more uneasy. “My control over this form is… not as strong as I would like. If- if I get upset or-or put under stress he- he could take over from me…”

Robin went for his sword

“But- but But!” Levi continued, raising his hands up and out in defense. “I am only harmful to other demons, demons and most supernatural beings trigger my flight or fight.”

Robin squinted at him and re-sheathed his word. Levi didn’t even see him draw it.

“So as-as long as I am around humans, I am okay.” He lowered his hands and slouched back in the chair “luckily there isn’t anyone here that-“

“HEY FUCKERS, WHO ATE MY LAST BAG OF CHIPS?” Boomed a voice seeming from above, followed by the sound of boots stomping down a set of stairs.

“Oh great, now j-“ Nightwing stopped himself, glancing at Levi “Red Hood is coming down here.”

“It was you who had to “have a snack” brother” Robin sneered, using air quotes in a mocking manner

Suddenly a towering mountain of a man outfitted in a leather jacket, dark clothes and a red helmet with full mask emerged out of the darkness

“Red, look-“

“No, You look! You know those were my favorite flavor! You’re buying me a party size one to replace it!” Yelled the large man.

Levi’s hearing dropped out, the arguing muted as he felt his chest tighten and his breathing became shallow.

‘Wait, this feeling..’ he thought ‘but that could only be-‘

“Oh no…” he muttered as he stood up from the table “no, no..w-why now?”

Robin took note of Levi. “What are you doing, demon?” He asked

He looked at the small angry child. “f-fight or flight…” is all he muttered before he started screaming, his hands shooting is to his temples and holding it tight.

Nightwing and red hood stopped bickering and looked over.

Levi fell backwards onto his back, his body tensing and stiffening. He felt himself curl into a fetal position as his head began to metaphorically split.

Red hood snapped out of his initial shock. “Wait-Who the fuck is that?”

Nightwing muttered “what’s going- wait. Robin!”

Robin tuned to look at him.

“Red hood isn’t exactly human.” He said matter of factly.

“I’m sorry?” Red hood said, mildly offended

Robin made the connection, he then dashed over and grab Levi by the collar. “You, you’ve handled something like this before?”

Levi wrenched open his eyes to look at him, one eye was now milky white and glowing faintly. He nodded in a strained manner

Robin pulled him in closer “how did you do it?”

“S-salts, smell-smelling. P-pocket” he strained as he patted his pocket “p-please.”

Robin reached over and found the pack of smelling salts. He cracked one and held it by the demon’s nostrils “breathe”

Levi took in a breath and went limp. Robin got up and walked over to Nightwing and Red Hood, holding the spent salts “smelling salts. I have a bit to learn about Demon biology”

“Demons?” Red Hood yelled “the fuck is going on? I was just blowing off steam about my snacks and now it’s the fucking exorcist down here?”

“B found a lost demon on patrol, dropped him off here with the promise to help him after patrol, and was about to go feral because of your resurrected vibes were triggering him.” Nightwing said

Even through the mask, the stunned look of utter confusion could be read on Jason’s face “seriously?”

There was a sharp intake of air as the once slumped body of Levi laid rose to the sitting position.

“That’s a good truncation of events” said a voice.

The three turned to look back at where Levi was, only to see him looking… human? The horns and pointed ears were gone, same with the pointed teeth. His skin was corpse pale and his eyes were blood red. He was brushing his hair with his comb so that it parted from the right instead of the left “Thank you Robin.” He said, his voice now sounding less lively and more cold. He looked up at the group. “Sorry, where are my manners. I’m Seth Morris.” He said with a wave as he quickly pocketed the comb.

Nightwing felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck, somehow this guy made him felt more unsafe than the actual demon.

Seth got himself up on his feet. “Now” he said dusting himself off “I feel someone should update…” he paused as he thought for a second “Batman, that’s the name. Sorry, recalling info Levi learned takes me a bit to remember.”

He shook his head “Anyway, Someone should update him about my situation.”

He wandered over to the mug with the hot cocoa. “Hmm, not my thing.” He looked up at Alfred, who had just walked in with Levi’s cleaned clothes.

“Ah, you are-“ he snapped his fingers, trying to recall the name “Alfred, sorry. I’m Seth, the host body for Levi. Um, may I get a cup of coffee instead?”

Everyone was still staring him down, mainly in disbelief.

——

“He’s what?” Batman exclaimed as he finished taking down a gang of crooks.

“He’s no longer demonic,The host body took back control.” Nightwing explained “although this kid-“

“I’m in my twenties, or I was when I died. I’m not a kid” Seth said aloud, he then took a sip of his coffee and tugged at his collar. He looked over at Levi’s folded clothes, Alfred had dropped them off not long ago.

Nightwing shook his head “anyway, he says things haven’t changed and he still needs Oracle’s help to fix his phone”

There was a pause “contact Her, see what she can do about the phone, Batman out”

Nightwing sighed. “A please would be nice.” He then pulled out his phone and started texting.

“Okay, she’s 15 minutes out.” He said.

Seth laid his head back on his chair. “Oracle… that’s the only secret identity I haven’t figured out.”

Everyone shot him a glance as he took a quiet sip.

Seth sighed “okay, so Levi recalls Robin calling you Richard” he pointed to Nightwing “and you mentioned the names Jason and Bruce during your little talk on the ceiling.” He set down his mug and picked up a tablet “a quick internet search gives me Bruce Wayne, someone with motive and money to pull off this-” he gestured around him “-crusade. and his adopted kids Richard Grayson and the deceased Jason Todd.” He points to Red Hood “ and of course the blood son Damian Wayne-” he pointed to Robin “-who is basically Batman the 2nd.”

You could hear a pin drop. Seth could see the bat kids gripping on their weapons.

Seth raised his hands up in defeat “Look, I don’t give two shits about all this, okay? I just like knowing things, figuring out mysteries. Kinda started when I died, still figuring out how that happened.” He got up from his seat and paced around the table. “And- and the fact that I can’t figure out who Oracle is- is just-“

Seth paused as he looked over at a large display case of costumes and locked in on the female bat suit. “Bruce’s team used to be bigger, something must’ve happened to her.” He paused before pointing a finger and Richard “he used She/her for Oracle. This is the only female presenting outfit, This was Oracle’s costume.” He got closer and peered in “a lot of dust on a mannequin…Bat-woman? No, BatGirl. If Robin’s a kid and you all grew up in this business, why couldn’t she? Plus the appeal of costumes is always a child’s fascination, becomes a man’s obsession I guess in this case…”

The bat kids stared at this stranger thinking over this puzzle.

“But what would take someone out of the field?” Seth thought for a second, his expression shifted ever so slightly “that’s it. an injury, not life ending but crip-“

He looked at the tablet and did some quick tapping and searching. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the case “Barbara Gordon.”

——

Barbara Gordon entered the cave

“Okay guys, what’s this about demons and a phone repair?”

She stopped when she saw the bat boys surrounding a young man and they were shouting and pointing at the tablet in the man’s hands.

“There’s no way, okay okay.” Jason taps on the screen “here, Clark Kent. Who is his superhero identity?”

The kid looked at the screen and scoffed “he’s Superman. Yes, he’s slouching and appears timid, but slicking the hair back and proper posture? Superman.”

His tone was super flat, but the bat boys lost their shit

Richard took the tablet “you gave him an easy one here” he also tapped on the tablet “Green Arrow, who’s he?”

The kid looked up at Richard and at the tablet, he tapped the screen a few times “Oliver Queen, the man still has the goatee and wears green?” His expression doesn’t change but the sarcasm was felt. “How do people not make these connections?”

He looked up and saw Barbara “ah Oracle, finally.” He got up from the table and made his way over “I’m Seth, thank you for coming over.”he hung his hand out like a wet fish.

Barbara saw a bit stunned “uh…of course…” she shook his cold clammy hands “I was told there was a demon?”

Seth nodded “yeah. He’s-“ He paused “I’m the host body of the demon” he pulled out the broken phone “this has the number of our mutual friend who can get us back home.”

He handed it to Barbara. She gave it a cursory inspection “hmm, looks like a busted display and potentially a disconnected battery, this shouldn’t take long.” She wheeled over to a nearby work bench and she got to work.

“While she’s doing that seth” Richard said, holding the tablet “we got a few more identities we want to test you with.”

Seth shrugged “alright.”

——

“There.” Barbra said, tightening the last screw on the phone. “So I was right about the display. Luckily the part was so generic that replacing was no problem. And I couldn’t find any other issues so now we just plug it in.”

She plugged the phone in and a charging icon lit up.

“Hey, uh- demon guy?” She shouted

Seth’s head looked up from the card game “is it fixed?”

She nodded. “This fast charger should get it turned on in a few minutes.”

Seth laid out his cards and got up “good. The sooner the better.”

Jason flung his cards down “what’s with the urgency?”

Seth answered “well, time passage between realms is very inconsistent, especially the afterlife. It’s either been a few minutes or several months by the time I make that call.”

Robin set his cards down gently “well, that would explain Levi’s anxious manner.”

Seth shrugged it off “he’s always anxious, but yes.”

He paused to think for a moment. “hey, since I’ve adjusted to Jason’s vibes and the portal is only permeable by demons, I think Levi should be here to make the call.”

Jason looked amused “sure but, how do we uh-let him take control?”

Seth shrugged “well, I assume someone here has some form of knock out gas or tranquilizer? He takes control when I’m unconscious.”

Just then a dart shot out from the dark and nailed Seth in the chest. He looked down and back up to the crowd. “Impressive.” He muttered “Damian?” He asked

Robin just gave a small nod.

Seth eased himself back into his chair as the tranquilizer took over “okay, some tips. First, Levi is gonna be scared at first, so please ground him and explain what’s happened. Second, he may or may not remember what I’ve uncovered so if you want to stick with your hero names, feel free to do so.” Everyone gave a slight nod “Lastly Alfred,” he turned to Alfred “thanks for everything, I think Levi would want some more cocoa if that’s possible.”

Alfred nodded “of course sir, I’ll get on that.”

Seth gave a slight nod before collapsing into the chair asleep.

There was a beat before the transformation took effect.

Suddenly his body jerked stiff, his hands gripped the arms of the chair. his skin shifted from a corpse pale into a dull pink. His head slowly rose up as one horn jutted out and jerking in the opposite direction as the second one jutted out. His clenched teeth took on a pointed nature. His ears took on a pointed shape as his body slouched forward. he brought his legs up into his chest and he held himself tightly as sounds of bone crunching and resetting could be heard.

There was another beat.

Levi jerked his head up and took in a breath, his green eyes shooting open and locking onto the bat Family. Barbara jolted back.

“Hah, huh, w-what happened?” He muttered. He reached up and felt his face “I- I am back in control? But I thought-“ he looked up to Jason “you- I- I am not being affected by you?” Jason nodded. “I-I see… Seth must have...”

Nightwing walked up to him “Seth said he adjusted to his Vibes. He also mentioned that you’d need a little help with grounding yourself. Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Levi nodded “sure, sure. Um” he looked around him until he turned to look at the girl in a wheelchair “oh! you- you must be Oracle. you are here to fix my phone?”

Barbara nodded “that’s- that’s right. It’s charging right now.”

“Good, good. Thank you!” He said with a small grin. He turned back to the batboys who were looking at him in awe. “So… h- how was Seth? I hope he- he made a good impression?”

Jason nodded “he was fine. A bit cold and abrasive.”

Levi nodded “yeah, that sounds like him.” He brought his thumb to his mouth and lightly gnawed on it. “I- I am glad.”

There a was jingle that cut through the air, the phone finished charging. Barbara brought the phone off the charger and handed it to Levi.

“T-thank you.” He went and open them the phone and immediately made the call.

——

(Ring ring) (ring ring)

“Hello.” Said a raspy voice

Levi smiled “Luis, it is me! My phone was damaged, but I got it repaired. How long has it been since I disappeared?

“Levi! Thank fuck you’re okay! Uh, it’s been about 2 hours according to my watch. Where did you end up?”

Levi exhaled in relief “Uh, I ended up in- g-Gotham City. And I am here with s-superheroes in a cave full of tech and- a dinosaur?” Levi said, just now taking note of the odd decoration.

“Gotham, cave, Dino- oh fuck! I know where you are! Okay, I’m there.” He then hung up in the phone.

——

Suddenly there was a tearing sound and a portal opened, the edges of wish hung like fabric suspended in midair.

And out stepped a strung out beanpole of a demon. Everyone had a look of udder shock while Levi relaxed the tension in his shoulders.

He wore dirt clodded biker boots with equally dusty acid washed jeans. His t-shirt was wrinkled and had the text “I ate ass for this?” Plastered on it. He tugged on his faded green army jacket sleeves, make sure he was presentable to the crowd. His sickly yellow reptile eyes glanced around the room, seeing all the slacked faces. His bare nostril twitched as he scratched the space just below it.

“So… superheroes?” The demon said, looking at some of the costume clad men before him.

Levi nodded “yeah, and this one is undead!” He said, pointing to Jason.

Luis took a step forward, the portal cinching up behind him, as he got a good look at the tall man. “Can’t see your face… but your vibes… Say, are you that Todd kid?”

Jason was taken back “uh, w-why are you asking?”

Luis continued “see, I bumped into this kid some years back, Jason was his name. Poor kid, I don’t know how he ended up in the afterlife but I met him at some gas station and he was just muttering about some clown and a crow bar. Really shaken up, Anyway, all he wanted was a chocolate bar. So I bought him one and ate it. I would’ve helped more if he wasn’t resurrected after he ate the bar.” He looked up at Jason “clearly you’ve changed quite a bit, but death has a funny way of doing that to folks.”

Jason muttered “I don’t-“

Luis snapped his fingers “oh wait, I got you a Blitzy bar. It’s like chocolate and caramel with-“

“Crisped rice and Nougat…that was the taste in my mouth when I came back.” Jason said matter-of-factly.

“Wait, you’re from a different realm of existence, how could you’ve interacted with Jason?” Barbara questioned.

Luis shrugged “the afterlife is omnipresent, death connects everyone so the fact we’d all end up in the same place isn’t that bizarre.”

Alfred had made his appearance, giving a mug of cocoa to Levi

“-but not as bizarre as this, Pennyworth?” Luis exclaimed

Alfred looked up “do I know you sir?” He asked

Luis was about to speak before he paused, a smile cracking on his face “wait, wait. I’ll just say this as to spare you some embarrassment. We met in Corto Maltese, 1963. Starfish hotel, room 227”

Alfred blushed ever so slightly “ah, of course.”

The stares the bat family had. Levi just sat there looking embarrassed as he sipped his cocoa.

Luis held up his hands in defense “look, I did mean to call you back. But life got in the way. I settled down, had a kid with the missus. But I’m glad to see you never got ride of the mustache.”

——

[bastet-c-haddock]

~The War is Coming (Part 2) ~

WARNING: This is a Fic centered around the main events of "Wizards". Specifically those involving the Gumm-gumms and Morgana. Also, it is narrated from a 1st person perscepctive. The narrator is my Troll named Neala. For more info on them, click the "Who's Neala? Button" at the end of this part.

SPOILERS FOR TALES OF ARCADIA: WIZARDS

Enjoy!

My stomach sinks at the news -It cannot be...- I say to myself, feeling somehow guilty. I had to be the one at the threshold, not the prince. Before I can offer my services, the skull crusher sends Argamon to Dwuoza to recruit the pacifist tribe hidden from human sight. Even though he's supposely a brother in arms to me and Bular, I don't trust him. He's like a youngling, vulnerable, gullible, let's just hope he's not that innocent. When the Krubera soldier exits the room, only me and Gunmar remain.

Normally, in a situation like this when the prince's arrogance might get him in trouble, I wouldn't care by letting him figure it out on his own, but given our roles were exchanged, and he might have been caught off guard by those humans, I offer a solution for the sake of the Black One's Lineage.

-My lord, wouldn't it be better to send a rescue party for the prince? We know what Arthur is capable of- I say, confident of what I've heard over the years. Exposes prisoners to daylight and shatters them, murdering anyone who's not of his kin. -I can build a small group to enter Camelot at twilight...- my lord interrrupts me, growling.

-He only wants a trophy, a victory for his broken kingdom. But he won't stand a chance!- his fury unleashed as he stands, his colossal sword at hand. -At Nightfall, we march to Camelot!- In a thunderous roar, its vibrations traveling through my legs, its invigorating! I nod, before he leaves the throne room. Now I stand alone, taking off my mask and admiring it, letting out a sigh. -War, huh?- my mind, overun by many thoughts...

What if we win?

What if Dwuoza refuses?

Would we be...all that is left?...

-Agh! Enough!- I growl, I always think too much. It would be better if I hurry, this will be a long night.

After a nap, some training and sharpening my blades. I wait for the Skull Crusher at the entrance of his kingdom, wearing the mask while I scout around.

The moment I get near the threshold, I can see the centinel, frozen in place, bound by chains. Something inside me aches, the guilt over the fallen puts a weight on my chest. To think it would've been me... It also reminds me who are we really fighting against. Arthur calls us demons, monsters, abominations, but when push comes to shove, he invades our territory, hunts us down, and kills us, while rejoicing on our demise. To me, that's a monster. One with no empathy or mercy...

Once I am beside the fallen soldier, my heart sinks. He was exposed while fighting for his life. Was caught off guard, chained and executed. No trial, why am I not surprised? The king only spreads decay wherever he goes.

-Rest now, soldier- I say, taking off my helmet to see the chains around his arms. They were still made of iron, instead of petrifying with this troll. What cruelty... -You fought bravely for The Black One's crown. And for your heroic deeds, me, Commander Neala, Gunmar's Hellhound, relief you from your suffering.- I say, as I release him from the metal chains which fall limply at his sides. The clatter of the binds hitting the ground makes me sigh, making me feel relieved somehow. A moment after, two other centinels come to drag him back to camp.

As I see the soldier leaving, I take a deep breath, knowing he'll be shattered shortly, putting an end to such a death. -May our ancestors welcome you with open arms to the Hall of Heroes- as I bow slightly, before his stone body leaves my sight.

It takes me a minute or two to shake these feelings of guilt and sadness that take over everytime I see a troll dying in such a horrid way. He was killed for the fun of it, that thought alone makes me wish I could kill Arthur with my own claws. But, with the crime scene I have on hand, I might be a step closer to doing so.

As I take the chains that bound the soldier and sniff them, I can create a scene in my mind, one which confirms what I thought from looking at their victim. The King and his men bound the centinel when he was off guard, immovilizing him and then exposing him to the sun. The fear of my ally and the lustful joy of my foe, contrasting, strong scents. But, someone is missing in this scene: Bular. So, I sniff around some more, bumping into the rock which lies a couple of feet in front of the gate. There, the scent of the Prince's Bravado takes force. And now, the image of his capture is clear.

His arrogance made him ambush the king, got the upper hand, I can tell due to the adrenaline in the air. Then, the traitors defended their liege.

The smell of Arthur's magician fills the place. Iron and the scent his spells produce, smoke. More scents come to my nose: Other wizards, a witch, the horses and Excalibur; the cursed sword the human King carries to protect from us. Bans magic, but wields that forsaken weapon...

Reeks of the fallen.

Two wizards, and two witches were there. Old steel, Merlin; lightning, his apprentice; melted gold, Morgana and a fourth, can tell is a witch, but her scent is...peculiar. Sugar, cinnamon and...citrus peelings, also...corn, but as if toasted on a grill. Spiced Corn Bread, weird but it certainly made her stand out. She doesn't belong here...

Despite the little witch's scent, I could feel the strong tang of anger in the air, close to where Morgana stood. Anger...drove by...what?

-What did you find, champion?- Gunmar stands behind me while I sniff around. As I notice him, I quickly put on the mask to answer to his question.

-Magic was used to kidnap the prince, four or five fleshbags dragged him back to Camelot. The others disbanded and continued the hunt- I answer while pointing with my claws the paths each group took. I could tell the king's men were after some others: The eldest scents, which were almost lost to the fight, were from trolls who had been among humans for way too long. -Three or more trolls ran to Dwuoza- completing my search, keeping some curious things to myself. Though two of the three trolls I sensed were somehow familiar, one stood out. Old Steel, Charcoal and blood. It confused me how those three aromas could coexist. Old Steel, Merlin; but...Charcoal, that was my king's scent; and blood, it was a stinging smell, penetrating, not that I wasn't familiar with it, but...from a Troll? Those facts had to lay dormant in my mind as I stand aside my lord, who looks at me, satisfied with the bloodhound he raised.

-I trained you well, champion. Now the hunter, becomes the prey- growling at the time he crouches on his four points, roars and runs. I follow his lead, doing the same.

The night falls upon us as we arrive to the castle...on fire. His keep, destroyed by unknown magic. I smell it, melted gold and tree's blood.

-Who destroyed Artur's keep without my orders?- my King growls at the centinels who always keep watch on it. They don't answer, but a witch does. One dressed on golden armor and green robes, pledging an alliance sealed by Bular's return and words I will never forget.

"Eternal Night"

As tempting as that sounds, my years on this Earth had taught me not to trust a human. They kill anything and anyone who's not of their kin. All nature knows their savagery and though I know she speaks the truth, my instinct tells me that this might be a trick. I step closer to my liege and prince standing between them and the witch with my blades at hand.

-Pretty words for a human- I snarl, defying her -You were there when the prince was captured, with your wizards and your king.- slowly stepping closer as she levitated down to my level, making our gazes meet. -How do we know this isn't part of Arthur's plan?- growling, not letting my blades touch the ground. My green lit eyes meeting hers. Mine, filled with rage. Her's, calm.

-Yes, I was there.- she replied, politely -Watching Arthur kill one of your own, rejoicing on his defeat by exposing him to the sun. I saw as my mentor betrayed our kind by capturing your prince. I tried countless times to stop the massacre with kindness. But the time of peace is long gone- swaying her left hand, so my gaze could catch it. At a glance, nothing was odd, until I felt the scent of jade and, something more ancient. Something I had never smelled before. A mix of volcanic stone, a freezing blizzard and the blossoms of the early spring. Life and death. How? As I picked the scent, she kept explaining. -My brother cut my own hand, all because I spoke our truth. How his hipocracy knows no bounds.-

Baffled, but not bemused, I turned once more to face her. Before I could ask, she kept on going with her speech.

- A force greater than us ushered me back, gave me the power and the goal. No more bowing our heads to the men's rule! I shall bring you the means to bring Arthur to his knees- she sounded like a preacher, one I heard eons ago while captured by humans. Same system, different motif. I don't trust her.

-Nice speech, Pendragon- I growled, about to attack her. My tail was wipping around, angrily leaving marks on the ground. -But you've got no stakes to lose. So if I must die defending my king from your pretty little lies, then so be it- Growling lower, as my tail finally slapped the ground, making me snap into action. I was ready to fight the witch, rip her to shreds...but...

-Champion!- I stop cold on my tracks, digging my hooves on the dirt below. My king's scold catching me off guard. After a second, I recover my senses, making me turn around to face him.

-My lord...- confused. Never had he stopped me from following my judgement. Once I smelled a liar, he left me to ram against them and bring them to his feet. This would've been one of those situations...except...

-The witch speaks the truth- Gunmar says, calm, but stern. -We are on the same side. So don't look for enemies where there are none.-

My anger flares up, in disbelief. -None?! She's a human!-

-The witch is one of us!- Bular interscepted, walking closer to meet me, defying me like I defied Morgana. -She created a distraction to free me and destroy Camelot by making a Troll walk in broad daylight!-

As he spoke, I froze. The memory of the odd mix of scents came back. -No troll can walk in broad daylight- I replied, anxious.

-They can- she spoke from behind me. -If they are half human...- my anxiety, turning once again into anger. That explained it!

A growl escapes my throat, targetting her from over my shoulder. -A changeling?!- my eyes gleeming with rage as that proposterous idea crossed my mind. Half human-half troll, an absolute abomination.

-They could be effective spies and second agents for our cause.- Gunmar agreed, though under his breath.

My ears couldn't fathom what I was hearing. Baffled, confused, and furious, I tighten the grasp I've got on my blades. -You...have poisoned my lord's mind with YOUR LIES!!!- I roar as loud as my rage allows me, making the trees around me tremble. My disbelief filled my reason with a sudden rush of absolute fury. This witch shouldn't be trusted! And yet! Here she still stands, creating deformed mirrors to serve "our cause". Every spike and hair in my body shaking from the anger, the defiance and the audacity of this Mother of Monsters, who made my king question my judgement. It is the last straw! Without a second thought, I launch towards the witch, attacking her. But, within a second, someone stands between us: Bular. The few ounces of respect I had for him, were slowly becoming dust. He blocked my attack, before pushing me back, making my hooves leave trails on the ground. Once I recover my footing, my eyes shot him daggers.

-Commander, there are no enemies to fight!- he growls at me, as my brows rise, once again, in disbelief. -This Witch has saved my life and attacked our enemy's keep! Don't you see?! The tides of war are changing to our favour!-

-Or dragging us to our destruction!- I roar once more, as I throw my blades, making them cut the ground and stand on their own. -Your weakness and arrogance has caused all of this. We wouldn't be facing Arthur's kin and considering such a blasphemous arrangement if it wasn't for your need to show off!- I attack him, finally speaking my mind after millennia. The comment makes him freeze, letting me know I'm right. -Don't you know I know the scent of your bravado?! It's bitter, penetrating, like meat left to rot. It is sickening...and it was all over the GATE!- My steps draw me closer to the prince, as my knuckles crack, my claws ring and my growls threaten.

Bular, trying to intimidate me, lowers his blades and puffs out his chest, pathetic! I can smell his shame, his anger slowly boiling to the surface. -You're overstepping your line, Commander-

I chuckle, showing my mouthful of sharp ivory teeth. I stand my ground, stretching to meet him almost face to face, letting him know I'm not afraid of a pampered brat -Scared you'll lose? Little Prince?-

-ENOUGH!- A loud roar shakes me, it is my king. Once more scolding me. -The witch has proven her worth, and as enemy of our enemy, she's now an asset to win over the King! So you better lower your voice, Commander. Or my blade will...- his growl making my torso shiver, even from afar. I could defy Bular and Morgana all I wanted, but if Gunmar the Black gave a command, my body was inclined to follow it. Wanting or not, he was still my king, and his orders are gospel.

So, I hushed, begrudgingly turning around. Like that, I kneel down, asking forgiveness for my acts, though I have no regret of my actions. -Yes, my king...- I say, bowing my head towards him. The anger still boils within me, but I try to persuade my body into calming down that anger. Not very effectively, but effectively enough to apologize -It won't happen again- trying not to bark those last words.

-It better not...- a disgusted whisper lefts his mouth before walking away, followed by Bular, the centinels, and Morgana. After it, I was left alone for a minute or two...

The apology I gave, was a not genuine one. And Gunmar knew it...

I just wonder how much time I have before he hunts me down...

‐---------------------

"Who's Neala?" Button

PART 3 AVAILABLE IN AO3

[mariotrontro]

Got bored and plugged this into chatgpt also added Sardonyx cause i 100% think this is something she’d do: ### Chapter 1: Welcome to the Show

Spinel stood still, baffled by the sudden transformation of what she had initially perceived as her battleground. The menacing aura of her mega injector became oddly out of place against a backdrop of glitzy neon lights and glittery stage elements.

"C-Correct?" Spinel stuttered, completely disoriented. "What is this? A game show? I was here to end Earth!"

Steven spun the microphone like a pro. "We're changing the narrative here, Spinel! Loosen up! We can't solve our problems through violence."

Just then, the stage morphed once again, now including a glammed-up Sardonyx as the co-host. "Ohohoho, is this a divine rendezvous or what? Good evening, everyone!" Sardonyx greeted with her typical theatrical flair. "Spinel, you’re going to love this next segment."

Spinel looked more bewildered than ever. "What is happening? Why am I—"

"Ah, ah, ah! No spoilers!" Sardonyx interrupted. "Now, for our first round. Spinel, why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"

Spinel hesitated, her face contorted in a blend of confusion and nostalgia. "I was Pink Diamond's playmate. Created to entertain her. Left alone for thousands of years. Is this the answer you wanted?"

The crowd, made up of miniature, magical light illusions of the Crystal Gems, clapped and hooted.

"Excellent! Very relatable!" Sardonyx commented. "Just like our beloved host Steven, you too have been impacted by the complexity of Pink Diamond’s legacy."

### Chapter 2: What Did My Mom Do This Time?

"Time for round two!" Steven announced as the screen behind him displayed the title: "What Did My Mom Do This Time?"

Sardonyx handed Spinel a remote. "You will use this to pick a category. The categories are: Abandonment, Shattered Relationships, Galactic Incidents, and Secret Offspring!"

"Is this even real?" Spinel questioned, still clutching her remote. After a pause, she sighed and pressed the button for "Shattered Relationships."

The screen displayed a multiple-choice question: "What led to the end of Pink Diamond and Pearl's relationship as we originally knew it? A) A heated argument, B) Pink Diamond faking her shattering, C) They just grew apart."

"Uh, B?" Spinel said, still unsure how she found herself participating in this spectacle.

"Correct!" Steven and Sardonyx cheered.

Spinel found herself clenching her fists. "Great, I got it right. Now, can we please get back to—"

### Chapter 3: The Turning Point

Before she could finish, Sardonyx interrupted, "Ah, but you see, understanding leads to empathy, and empathy leads to change. Isn't that right, Steven?"

"Absolutely," Steven affirmed. "By framing these grievances in a way that we can all understand, maybe we can find a better path. One that doesn’t involve that," he pointed at the mega injector looming in the background.

Spinel looked at the injector, then back at Steven. For the first time, doubt crept into her eyes.

"You're trying to say that I should just forget what Pink Diamond did to me? Just forgive and forget?" Spinel's voice quivered.

Sardonyx stepped closer to her. "Oh, my dear, it’s not about forgetting. It's about understanding. And understanding is the first step to healing."

Spinel's grip on her remote tightened until it cracked. "Healing? I was abandoned. Left to rust away in a garden. How do you heal from that?"

Steven's eyes met hers. "You find people who understand. People who've been through their own version of a garden. And you grow something new...together."

Spinel's eyes glistened, but she looked away. "And what if I'm too broken to grow?"

"You're never too broken," Steven replied softly. "The cracks are how the light gets in."

### Chapter 4: Spinel Buys a Vowel

Spinel looked down at her cracked remote, then back up at Steven and Sardonyx. "Fine," she said, "I'll buy a vowel."

"A what?" Sardonyx quizzically looked at Steven.

"It's a figure of speech," Steven chuckled. "She's willing to give understanding a chance."

As Spinel stepped down from her intimidating injector, it started to retract its menacing drill, as if it too sensed her change of heart. She approached Steven, still wary but a smidgen more open than before.

"Does this mean I'm a part of your little 'understanding' club?" she asked.

Sardonyx burst into laughter. "Oh, darling, understanding isn’t a club. It's a journey, and we're all on it. Sometimes in heels, sometimes in sandals, but always moving forward."

Spinel looked at them and then back at her injector, which had become nothing more than a backdrop to this new, perplexing stage of her life.

"Then let's move forward," she said, finally allowing a tear to slip down her cheek. "But first, can someone please tell me how to turn that thing off?"

"Ah, technical difficulties," Sardonyx grinned. "That's a category we're all too familiar with!"

And so, on this improbable stage, amidst sparkling lights and a past filled with darkness, they all took a hesitant but hopeful step towards something new. It wasn't a perfect solution, but perhaps it was a start.

And sometimes, a start is all you need.

From the fanfic “Spinel Buys a Vowel”

[dakotaismissing]

A cool breeze

I disdain my hair.

It’s lengthy, beautiful and admirably feminine, it falls just above my waist before touching my hips, longer if it is pin straight.

The length reflects a passionate project of my demonstrative femininity, a reflection of six years of meticulous care.

Hours worth of oiling, brushing, straightening, colouring and treating.

Although I love my hair, even more so when my man strokes it downwards whilst I lie blissfully aware, every movement lulling me into a gentle sleep.

My hair..

Also gets caught in everything, my buttons, zips, underwear, nails, doors, it sticks to my lips when I have lip gloss adorning my rouge over lined lips, balls of it lay entwined in my rug when I have spent hours tugging on its roots until all my knots have fallen through to present it in clean waves as if anyone looking at my hair understood it took me hitting my skull three times with my hairbrush after I got mad at its petulance for it to behave that way.

I used to talk to it, as though the lifeless protein understood me… no! stop! listen!. why won’t you stay, you’re too… wild. Stop. Listen to me.

It gets stuck on my lovers lips when we kiss frustrating him as we break apart to remove it. Sticky tape when I wrap presents to my mother, seeing the disfigured strand of hair straying from its relevant head is almost disgusting in that context. So I tear the sticky tape off rashly and repeat the entire wrapping process until the present is hair free. Let’s not talk about the hair that isn’t on my head or above my eyes, the rest get pilallaged, choked and drowned in hot wax until it gets ripped from its root.

I stare downwards at the balls of it that begin to form on the red venetian rug as I am sat, crumpled on my floor. I pick it up and begin to tug at the few strands between my index finger and thumb. Rolling the back and forth.

I wonder what would I do if I just…

I pull the tightly wound and they snap, so does the next and the next. Three whole strands now lay jagged and split within my palm transposed at different angles like broken bones ripped from their tendons.

It amazes me that just like that years of work can be broken.. is my femininity the issue? Is that what I hate about my hair? What it represents? A constant reminder of the weight of the emotional maturity, empathy, the agreeable and friendly nature I have to present to identify with can be traced back to the hair on my head.

More than anything my love!

I want to feel the cool breeze lick the back of my head.

Sometimes I think about burning my hair off and feeling the heat encase me, it wouldn’t fix anything or release me of the melancholic feeling in my body but I am infatuated with the feeling of the cool breeze on the back of my head.Maybe I’ll get my man to pull it out, he’s brave!...

Maybe that will make us happy? Will I finally feel the chill of the cool breeze.

No.

I’ll wait, patiently, because when I do, finally shave my hair, I want the wind to be cold, ice cold, so I can finally feel the cool breeze lick the back of my head and be free.

[zombesoup]

Perfect for One Another

“You’re fucking insufferable!” Christopher shouts as he buttons his stonewash blue jeans that looked painted on those muscular thighs. To Sven he looked like a petulant child stomping around the dirty bedroom. Bare chested and barefoot, all golden vanilla skin on display as Sven smiled like his world wasn’t smashing into another planet. The force of his emotions being ripped apart by Christopher’s words left him breathless as if he was dunking his head into a tub of ice water.

“You know what I do. You know how I slit the throats of people who fucking deserve it and you let me… you let me cum inside you like you loved me, just to say my dead wife’s name as I’m telling you how I fucking feel?! Who does that?” Christopher shouted the words. Christopher noted the way his cum ran down the man’s open vagina and even when he was as angry as he was. He still wanted to fuck another load in the waste of human dna that was Sven Petrov.

“Why do you think I did that?” Sven asked sitting up, his own pants looked silly at his hairy ankles and that singular opinion held his tears back. As he spoke, he grabbed Christopher’s button down red flannel shirt and wiped himself dry. He hoped that would be the switch flipped for the serial killer. If he was going to die that day, he would make damn sure he wasn’t the only one.

“Because you want to die!? Is that it?” Christopher roared. Sven watched him, this taller than most man who he himself had witnessed peel the skin from someone’s face weeks ago on a stake out. It had broken his heart the moment he knew the man who had finally taught him to trust and love again was the very murdering psycho he had been hunting for as a private investigator.

“No I did it so we wouldn’t have any more secrets. You know who I am and I know who ,” was all Sven got to say before his nose crumpled against the fist from the man he was talking to.

“You hurt me because you’re angry with me, how fucking pedestrian are you!” Christopher shouts at the top of his lungs as the smaller man rolls around on the bed holding his bleeding nose as his blood fills his cupped hands and runs down his palms and wrists.

Contrary to psychological beliefs psychopaths do in fact feel they just have a capacity for shutting off empathy. Something Christopher learned as his anger gave way to a sense of panic, nausea, and concern in less than ten seconds.

“I’m sorry use my shirt.” Christopher said without thinking and Sven did just that and instantly regretted it as he glared daggers at him. His face was smeared with blood and cum.

“Now I’m really fucking sorry,” Christopher said trying in vain not to smile at the image before him. There was something about the image of the naked man wiping his cum out of of his eyes that was just too much. He lunged on top of the man, one large hand encircling his neck, thumb stabbing deep into his windpipe. The way those doe eyes flew open, the whites around the eyes somewhere between pink and red, was Christopher’s endgame.

For months he had been imagining how he would kill this man, the way he picked up every bread crumb at crime scenes. It was all for this, leaving a severed finger beside his victims. Each with a different surface under their fingernails. It had all been to get him here to this perfectly preserved crime scene, the first he had committed when he had been barely twenty.

Christopher watched the color flush Sven’s face as he caught the fist that moved almost fast enough to catch him on the side of his face. He slammed the hand into the mattress. It would be so good, this death, the climax of two years of work. But as he let up the pressure on the throat he smashed their lips together. He forced his tongue into the mouth of the man who should be dead But as he felt his own breath stolen by the man sucked it out of his mouth. He didn’t understand what about the situation had inspired the shift in direction but he was so happy that the man was kissing him back.

It took two YouTube videos on setting the broken nose for Christopher to get it right. Both men were surprised at how much blood came from second time. But as it slowed and Christopher sprinted off to the bathroom for towels, Sven had time to think. He had decided to take his pants and underwear all the way off, so he stared at his hairy legs and the blood they were sprayed with and tried not to think about when his penis had been bitten off.

“Are you feeling sorry for yourself?” The deep voice of the man who had broken his nose asked, breaking the spell of memory as he looked up the long mainly muscled torso of Christopher. His golden skin covered in his blood only made him look more beautiful. So much so he had to look away.

“Am I that easy to read?” Sven asked and was surprised at his own sadness but what was he sad about? Everything that had led to this moment, or the fact he was in love with this, literal psycho.

“Don’t punch me for saying yes, but yes.” Christopher said who noted the bloody legs but ignored them as he knelt between them and pressed warm, damp white bath towels to the man’s face. Never in all his life had he ever cared to mend a wound. He preferred causing them. Maybe that was why his son had died, no sooner had he had the thought did he shut it down. Romantic feelings was making him lower his mental defenses.

"Now whose having self depreciating thoughts," Sven said as he rose to his feet. Stepping into Christopher's space. He didn't think about the dried blood across his skin, he knew not to pry into Christopher's past even though he wanted too. And he really wanted to, instead he simply ran his hands through the brown hair pulling errant strands from that forehead. The way those brown eyes moved up his bloody legs, over his vagina and up the bloody shirt to Sven's face made fear join the feelings of empathy and rage inside him.

Warning bells were ringing inside his mind as Christopher leaned in and kissed his leg. The chaste kiss turning to something deeper as his hot tongue ran across the dried blood. It was involuntary the way Sven's hands became a fist in that silky hair.

The way the mood shifted from warm and familiar intimacy to a searing Inferno if desire between the men was so instant that Sven felt as if his world were spinning wildly off his axis. When those perfect teeth bit down on his skin instead of that sinful tongue, Sven cried out in surprise. Almost instantly those lips were placed over the abused space on his thigh. Pain and pleasure rode his senses and any self preservation evaporated under the loveliest pleasure Christopher could inflict.

Sven released the hair as his legs gave out and the strong hands on his waist were all that kept him from falling. He hastily wipes at his moist cheeks. He didn't know when he had started crying or even why, but the moment when Christopher’s mouth kissed his vagina his brain lost all reason. If it hadn't he might of noticed those hands had moved. Maybe he would of put up a fight when in one swift move he found himself on the bed, Christopher kissing and biting up his stomach. But the heat building inside his body was growing, making his body arch up as Christopher kissed and sucked him. His thick fingers pushing in and out of Sven, slowly.

[cassyfarrar]

Genetics are little gifts from our parents,

your mothers button nose,

Daddies thick hair, the freckles that dot your checks. The unique shape of your ears that curve in such a way.

And in conjunction with these we have family traditions, like ham on easter, driving up north every summer,

A kiss on the forehead when you say goodnight.

As we grow we make the decision to either keep alive family traditions, or we make our own way, stumbling forward re-writing the story bit by bit, Some things we will keep consciously or not, following the footsteps of those before us

like a good night's kiss you’ll tenderly keep but also realizing you never really liked ham that much, so perhaps you'll serve turkey instead.

But some family heirlooms passed down cannot be escaped,

Like sounding like your father when your temper is lost on a broken plate,

Feeling like your lightweight mother when you finish your beer.

But where does one go when genetics and family tradition has both gifted you hereditary suicide?

It was the way of your father and the father before him, leaving a void in family scrapbooks, and being an elephant suffocating the room in every family gathering.

It's like the christmas gift of fuzzy slippers that aren’t even your size but they haunt you by sitting at the bottom your closet, you know you don’t want to wear them but no one give you the receipt

How do you build a legacy on a family that never gave you solid ground, it feels like you’re standing upon quicksand, there is no hero to hold on to, no standard. No role model of the loving family man

Instead The patriarch left his family decapitated as he earnestly kept the tradition alive by repeating what his father did before him.

And I have this grand epiphany that i cannot make the man proud by accomplishing his goals when his greatest goal in life was to lose his

So, when I have come to the fork in the road, glaring at me, asking if I will choose life or death.

The greater black or simplier white,

it simply not enough that I choose to kill such a tradition, I must take pride in making the choices i know he never did

I repeat it again and again

I repeat it when I visit my psychiatrist, her shopping list of temporary fixes and some stability that I can find in a bottle, we cross off another from the list. I take it home in a tiny orange jar pretending each pill is a small piece of hope as i swallow it down nightly reminding myself with each sip water to wash it down

“I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when it seems impossible to leave my bed, almost if my pain has me eternally bound but instead i get up and start the car to meet a

friend over coffee, knowing it would have been easier to borrow away, to be the shut in,never let anyone know how i am suffering, but rather instead i chose to laugh with a friend

“I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when I choose another self-help book from the shelf at the bookstore, and I try not to feel weirdly embarrassed when the shop clerk bags it.

I wonder if they notice the dark circles under my eyes and feel worried for me, a just wayford stranger.

“I’m making the choices you never did”

And i repeat it over and over when i just want to be sedated by something, a temporary fix, something to lean against like a crutch, something to put me to sleep like a sick lullaby

But with all my willpower I have left, the wine bottle stays in its place upon the top of my fridge.

I nearly scream “I’m making the choices you never did”

I repeat it when the tears will not stop, as if the floodgates where destroyed,

And I cannot convince myself of any good, and at the moment I believe the sun will not come up tomorrow, I am powerless and I'm at my wits end.

And I truly began to understand why you sought the meets to an end that was final, for a moment I felt empathy for you but instead, I put my weapon against myself down. And in what feels like a violent scream but was rather a groggy whisper for help I call that famous hotline, and woman with a soothing mature voice reminds me on the other end of the line ““you’re making the choices he never did”

I repeat it when i walk through the doors of the emergency room,

Feeling a tinge of guilt that my emergency wasn't one of a physical sense like the others in the room but rather of deep emotional turmoil from a brain wired differently that passed down to me. I don’t even feel the needles pierce my skin as they fit me for an iv,

And they ask me to strip off my clothes and become naked in the cold sterile room. I think about how it parallels how vulnerable I feel. A team of nurses and doctors who cycle in and out my room ironcily are there to keep me from my greatest threat,

Me.

just like you where you own greatest emieny, and when they draw another vile blood from my sore arms I clench my eyes shut and whisper

“I’m making the choices you never did”

And

Someday I'll repeat it like a pledge, oath. a sincere promise.

When i have a child of my very own and their tiny hand presses against mine, I’ll make sure with every ounce of my being that they will never know the pain of having a parent didn't want them,

They'll never know the knife in their back of betrayal of abandonment

I’ll refuse to be a coward, I won't run away from the responsibility of parenthood instead dive head first into it with the decision to make the choices you never did.

So, when it comes to family tradition I don’t just rewrite the book, I have decided to close it.

It ends with me, I won't just never follow your footsteps, I will make my own in the opposite direction. The apple didn’t just fall far from the tree, it never even grew there

And maybe i cropped off the block and perhaps we are cut from the same cloth but i am sowing

myself into something new, I am becoming something unrecognizable from your blueprint.

I am choosing the value of true autonomy cutting these family ties.

I am evolving, I am in every way changing. Transforming.

And this mantra that I scream in my soul, it's simply not just enough to never make the choices you did i am making the choices you did not”

And in a radical moment of true self love and utter defiance of those who came before me.

I am making the choice you simply could not

I chose to stay.

[writing-for-life]

I sat with this for a while and thought about it. I agree that he comes across kinder in the show. I think that’s

a) down to the medium. People in the flesh come across differently, plus (very important consideration): People need to empathise with the MC in some way for a TV show to be a success, and it’s a lot harder (of course not impossible) to do that if someone is just an arsehole 24/7

b) especially the added last scene, where he basically forgives Gault (I personally think they shoved it down our throats with that one a bit, especially when he says he’s now trying to listen. I also get why they did it though, because it makes the beginnings of “being changed” really obvious, even for people who haven’t read the comics).

And he has kindness in him. Most of all though, in both the comics and the TV show, he tries to be just and do what he thinks is right. And sometimes, that happens to be kind. Because yes, fairness can be kind, even if being fair doesn’t always mean we get to hear what we want to hear. But sometimes, his take on just and right isn’t kind. Is he good at his core? Yes, absolutely. Is he truly kind at this stage? I’m really not sure. Because kindness has one important quality, the most important one of all:

Forgiveness.

And I would say that we only see true forgiveness at the end with Gault. In all other instances, forgiveness is the one thing he absolutely struggles with at this point, in both the series and the comics. And someone who can’t forgive can certainly still be good deep down, but are they kind? I really don’t know…

In my view, personal as it may be, he would have been kind to Lyta if he hadn’t taken Hector in front of her. Serious lack of empathy and shit move, dude (compassion and empathy are also building blocks of kindness btw, and he struggles with both at times. Not because he doesn’t feel, because he does. A lot. Rather because his forgiveness is still wonky). He didn’t have to let her witness that, no wonder Rose was pissed off—rightly so. He did what was right, not what was kind. He didn’t let her have Daniel for now because it was kind. He let her have him because he already has a plan at this point. So while I get it might look kind on the surface, it’s really (dare I say it?) selfish, and hence actually cruel in the long run for Lyta. She never truly recovers from everything that’s related to being Daniel’s mother. It destroys her life.

Other prime examples of no forgiveness at this stage:

Punishing Alex with eternal waking/sleep. That’s vengeful, especially since Alex wasn’t a truly horrible person in the show (he was much worse in the comics).

Sending Gault to the darkness. That’s insisting on authority (plus punishing someone who is totally in the right because she has pushed his buttons).

Walking away from Nada in hell and leaving her there. That’s being a petulant child.

There are other small instances of not being exactly kind, but these are the most prominent ones.

We see him offer kindness to Rachel, yes. But that was really Johanna telling him off. He was ready to walk away, and he would have if she hadn’t set his head straight. So while that was kind on Rachel in the end, he really had no empathy for her to start with and needed a human to explain to him why he was basically a shit bag for just grabbing his sand and going: “Got what I need, she’s broken, so what, let’s move on.”

The one scene where we see compassion is when he spares John Dee. But he does that in the comics as well. And I can’t help but think that this is not just because he’s kind here, but mostly because he feels a degree of guilt. He knows it’s not really John’s fault, as despicable as his actions might have been. It’s because John had his ruby, and because that power corrupted him. So he feels a degree of responsibility. And we all know how heavy responsibility weighs on him—it’s the one thing he can’t let go of, and it’s the very reason his whole arc develops the way it does.

But he also loves humanity. Deeply. How could he not? He gives them dreams, and he is so connected to their unconscious that he actually hurts himself in the process sometimes. There is a true selflessness here when he attends to his function in that way. But there is also a self-centredness when he’s Morpheus, the anthropomorphic personification. And he’s aware of it (if you haven’t read Overture yet, you’re in for a treat in more than one way).

So yes, I see him a bit softer around the edges in the TV show, and I think it’s a deliberate move to make us like him more. But I personally didn’t once get the impression that he wasn’t exactly the same Morpheus as in the comics underneath it all (one of the reasons I think they did such a great job bringing it to the screen).

And we need the flashes of no empathy and lacking compassion here and there to make his change truly meaningful. Personally, I didn’t need the ramrod forgiveness at the end of S1 because I know how the arc develops, and I know that he truly changes and rectifies a lot of stuff along the way. But I can also truly understand that it was a clever move for those who haven’t read the comics.

He’s multi-layered. That includes flashes of kindness, but he’s not always kind. His whole arc is about becoming more human in a way, and that’s the beauty and tragedy of it all.

Some thoughts

Morpheus is kind. I know a lot of folks say he isn’t or he is but only to those who matter, but… hear me out: he’s the personification of dreaming. He’s literally king of The Dreaming. And we see time and time again how kind he is. And how powerful.

I remember watching about the first half of the season - or, say, the very first few episodes - and thinking “wow, maybe some of these characters are right, dreams do seem pretty useless.” That’s where I realised, at first, the kindness. The kindness of a pleasant dream while you die in your sleep to ease a horrible suffering. The sort that perhaps not many understand. But it is still a kindness in the only way Morpheus can do. I thought he was still sort of weak then, but kind. He could do this for people. Give them peace and temporary joys.

Morpheus genuinely seems to mourn Lyta’s loss, as much as she and her accidental involvement in The Dreaming due to the vortex damaged his realm. Now, I haven’t read the comics or graphic novels, so I don’t know anything beyond Netflix’s first season so far. It is with regret that he has to send back the ghost of Lyta’s husband and tell her she could not come to The Dreaming pursuing a life in it anymore. In the moment, it feels horrible, but he lets her keep the baby, I think, as one last favour. The idea that he was cruel in stating the baby belonged to him because it was conceived in The Dreaming and that he would come for it (unknown when) is fair, and maybe it would be perceived as a twisted sort of kindness. And unless I’m mistaken, he did not specify when he would take the child. He may yet either change his mind or retrieve this child much later down the track after a full life (you can argue with me on this as I’m not entirely sure about any background lore or if I’m forgetting something from the episodes). But I consider this another demonstration of the kindness that he is allowed to show, that follows the rules of dreams.

As an aside, I think that’s pretty incredible, the way the writers were able to convey the subtlety of Dream’s power. There are rules, of course, that the Endless seem to follow, but also limitations for each of their purposes (Death can only deal in death, Dream only with dreams, Desire with desire, and so on). This has all probably been said before, I didn’t dig deep enough yet, but I still wanted to express my admiration and awe over all this.

Anyway, back to subtleties and power and small acts of kindness. It wasn’t until Morpheus, Dream, was facing down Lucifer Morningstar in Hell that I really understood his power. At first, I was very afraid for him, because I also did not see how Dream could win out against all that Hell represents, no matter if Dream also includes nightmares. (Honestly, the episode title ‘A Hope In Hell’ should have been a dead giveaway for me, but hush, I was thinking of a song by that title instead at the time.) Of course, there was Matthew’s kind of cheesy line that “dreams don’t fucking die”, and then Morpheus’ winning move against Lucifer was “hope” which is very much the essence of dreams that I really understood the level of his power. Hope is what persists, as is famously known to do so with teeth bare and knuckles bloody, and maybe it was simple but it really hit me then. There is a lot that can be done to crush hope, but look to yourself: even in the most hopeless points of your life, there are dreams. A dream of something better, something different, something else, something full of revenge maybe, something that is beautiful and soul-saving - whatever it is, I believe, there will always be that. There will always be a hope in hell. And I know I’m just spelling out the whole idea behind that episode, but the simple power of hope, and the kindness of dreams giving that hope to you - the kindness of Dream himself - is pretty fucking powerful.

Perhaps Morpheus was not always this way. We hear from many characters that he has changed since his containment. We hear often, too, that he is selfish. But there is so much commentary from others about who he is, what he’s like, his true ugly self and yet… all I see is kindness. The kindness, perhaps, that these otherworldly only know how to do. They do not know of human acts of kindness as they do not have the luxury of being human. But they understand a sort of mercy. And gentleness. We see many struggling to understand over the course of the show that the Endless only exist because of humans, and we see Morpheus learn this, and that is perhaps where he finds this deep respect that fosters his kinder side.

Nightmares are awful. But Dream removes those too for those who do not deserve the torture of them in the show. If I recall correctly, he does at one point address nightmares as being challenges that dreamers have to face to overcome their fears, and it is in that way he is trying to do them a favour. For he also works in revelations too, to aid in a dreamer’s understanding. But when a nightmare is focused on a trauma or horrible event, we see Morpheus provide comfort where he can and, in some cases, remove these nightmares. We can also see him alter people’s entire perspectives too, through various means, and again, I am just amazed at this subtle power. He does not have to use thunder and lightning like some god, he does not have to hold a knife to anyone’s neck, he does not have to speak very loud at all or deliver threats of dismemberment. No, he works in smaller ways. And I absolutely love that.

Look, I’ve only done one watch through over the course of three days. There’s probably a ton I’m missing and this is just the very on-the-nose, tip of the iceberg sort of thing. There’s probably stuff I’m forgetting, background things I don’t know, and overall, this is probably just a very basic look at obvious key themes. Whatever. The point of this was to express my excitement and enthusiasm for this new discovery I’ve made. I think this show is brilliant in so many ways. Morpheus is a fascinating character. I have a feeling him and this story will be on my mind for a while.

[thespoonisvictory]

Was Phil’s Advice Good?

I think the advice phil actually gives to wilbur isn’t bad, but only for part of what wilbur said to him. when wilbur says that that he’s having trouble with apologizing and feeling like people aren’t actually accepting his apologies, yes, his understanding that some people won’t forgive him is important. phil is correct that wilbur should accept that and help people find peace regardless of how they feel about him, and then move on.

That is all correct! however, that’s a small, small part of what wilbur actually said to phil, and to be honest, not the part he really needed help with. If you remember the anniversary stream, wilbur didn’t expect full forgiveness from tubbo, for example. but that’s beside the point. phil just straight up skips past any of the deeply concerning things wilbur says, namely:

“I’m trying so hard, and nothing seems to be getting better, and I think there might just be something wrong with me.“

This, along with sentiments that no one actually believes in him, there’s nothing he can do to get better, there’s nowhere to go but down, he doesn’t deserve things like food, etc etc, present a very concerning image. like, not subtle concern that we the audience are able to pick up on, but straight up “there’s something wrong with me” no bullshit, just honesty. this is c!phil, who assisted in this man’s suicide, who saw first hand that wilbur was incredibly, incredibly mentally unwell.

Not to mention that the sentiments Wilbur expressed in Bust are incredibly similar to the ones he expresses in the button room (paraphrased):

“I’ve been here so many times, I’m always so close” --> “I keep apologizing, I keep trying, but nothing is getting better”

“they all want you to” --> “no one is actually forgiving me here”

phil looked at his son, desperately worried that he was inherently broken and that there was nothing he could do to ever get better, and said “well, if no one forgives you all you can do is leave”. it’s advice for a person who expects that everyone should forgive him, not advice for a person who directly ties his self worth to what he can give to other people and does not understand why that’s a bad thing. 

it addresses the bad wilbur’s done to other people, but doesn’t even touch the bad he’s done to himself. it addresses that his apologies may not be accepted, but wilbur was already afraid of that, and maybe even knew it. the issue is that wilbur believes that because he may never fully receive forgiveness, he believes there is nothing left for him, and nowhere else to go. he believes that because he messed up, there is something he cannot grow from and that he is inherently the problem. and when phil doesn’t even touch that, it reads as silent confirmation.

(this is ignoring the fact that he let wilbur continue to take the blame for ranboo’s implied perma-death, even though he knows that ranboo’s perma-death was Not in fact wilbur’s fault. and yes, we’re going with that timeline, as phil would have no reason to have not seen ranboo if this wasn’t post prison break, as well as the obsidian around tommy’s house being a recent development). 

I’m not expecting therapist levels of advice from phil here, nor do I think he did this intentionally. but oh my god, if your son, who you know to be suicidal, is telling you that he “keeps trying, but nothing is getting better”, maybe having your first instinct being a lecture on how forgiveness is not guaranteed, rather than empathy and reassuring, is a sign of a deeply flawed relationship between you too. wilbur went to phil, shaking, on the verge of tears and rambling, more vulnerable than arguably we’ve ever seen him, and phil hardly blinking raises serious, serious questions about if he knows his son at all.

what wilbur takes away from this is that if he cannot find forgiveness, he should simply leave. by only addressing one aspect of his concerns, likely the one phil feels comfortable in answering, he (unintentionally) implies that his mindset of no growth possible and putting his worth in what he can do for people is correct.

tl;dr: yes, phil’s advice is good out of context, but it completely ignores literally everything else wilbur said to him and shows little empathy or reassuring in regard to his actual, rooted fears.

[hctivv-citcelce]

Shadow Work Prompts 1

1. what emotion do you try to avoid (e.g. anger, sadness, jealousy...)? what makes you afraid to feel it? what are you afraid will happen if you feel it?

2. in what ways are you privileged? what do you take for granted?

3. pick an adjective from the list below that would trigger you if someone would use it to describe you and then ask yourself: "why would this trigger me? what would be bad about it being true? is it the accuracy or inaccuracy that bothers me? what could be a positive aspect to being that way?"

list: arrogant, lier, jealous, mean, cruel, possessive, bitchy, bossy, loser, greedy, mysterious, sneaky, codependent, sick, fat, disgusting, stalker, stupid, idiot, fearful, unconscious, masochistic, narcissist, insignificant, frigid, sexist, manipulative, racist, victim, egotistic, arrogant, ugly, careless, passive, aggressive, lame, boring, tactless, irresponsible, incompetent, lazy, unfair, childish, know-it-all, insensitive, psychotic, sad, ordinary, hypocritical, reproachful, gloomy, jealous, envious dirty, tyrannical, inflexible, heartless, resentful, dominant, bad, ignorant, uneducated, tasteless, insecure, depressed, hopeless, not good enough, cry baby, paranoid, pushy, stubborn, inferior, weak, impatient, unreliable, self-destructive, over-sensitive

4. what is the biggest promise you made to yourself that you have broken? how does that make you feel?

5. how do you lie to yourself in daily life? what are you trying to avoid?

6. what do you think is your worst trait? why is it "bad"? what positive aspects does this trait bring with it?

7. if you truly loved yourself, what would your life look like? is it very different from how it actually is? and if yes, why?

8. think of a time someone broke your heart. could you have been responsible in some way as well?

9. do you hold grudges against someone? if so, why are you not letting them go yet?

10. what do you need to forgive yourself for?

11. think back on the last time a person triggered you: can you see how the aspects of that person that triggered you are also in you?

12. ask yourself: "if... were true about me/my current life situation, I’d be terrified" (try to fill out this sentence as often as possible)

13. think back on your last argument/fight: did you actively try to see the other person's viewpoint and would there have been a way to be more compassionate with the other person and yourself?

14. think about a time in your childhood when you felt unhappy (small or big moment) and write a letter from your child self to the present you about how you felt and how you perceived the situation: try to take on that child as much as you can and write from its perspective as automatically as you can then write a letter back to that child, explaining the situation, showing empathy and understanding and asking how you can help now or which needs have to be met for that child to feel good again if you get answers from that child, then try to meet those needs today

15. In what areas of life are you holding back and playing small? (Think about the times you feel weak, small, or disempowered.) Write them below and next to each explore why

16. In what ways do you feel judged by others? Write them below. Explore how many of these judgments might actually originate within you first (and are displaced onto others)

17. What negatives or positives do others point out about you that you have trouble accepting?

18. What emotions do you rarely express around others – and when did you first start hiding these emotions from others? (Emotional suppression and repression often point to areas of shame buried within you.)

19. Reflect on a period of life where you were at your worst (i.e. most self-destructive, argumentative, etc.). Write a short, but heartfelt letter of understanding, acceptance, and compassion for that version of you. You can return to this letter later whenever you feel rotten about yourself.

20. What are your “hot buttons” or triggers that cause you to get angry or defensive in the presence of others?

Part 2 here

[one-sad-human]

•Worth It• Duff Mckagan

Pairing: Velvet Revolver era! Duff Mckagan x Younger! Reader

Requested? Nope!

Theme: Little bit of everything/???

Warnings: Language, panic attacks, anxiety references, drug references

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Fic 2 of 2! This is the longest fic yet! Took a different approach to writing this one, hopefully it payed off. Let me know if you guys liked it or if I wasted my time with this one lol.

     You had met Duff in a coffee shop in LA. It was crowded and you were lucky enough to snag a chair before the lunch rush. Duff wasn't, and asked you if he could sit at your table.

     You grew up with Guns n Roses, bought his solo album the day it came out when you were just 15, and now listened to Velvet Revolver faithfully. To see your idol, your celebrity crush stand right in front of you holding a cup of coffee and a scone sent you for a loop.

     "Of course," you had said, starry eyed. You were only hoping he was as kind as the interviews made him out to be. Maybe have a conversation with you and be polite for a while before leaving and never seeing each you again. That would be good enough.

     It didn't end with a coffee, it had just begun. He asked for your number, and you stared at him for a moment thinking you had imagined it. That was until he tilted his head a little and looked at you with a nervous expression. He backtracked and you immediately stopped him.

     "No! I mean— yes! Yes, you can absolutely have my number." You scrambled for a pen and paper and ended up scratching your number on a receipt from the record store. You shook so hard you could barely get the numbers down.

     Out of all the record store receipts you've stuffed into your bag, the one you gave Duff Mckagan had to be the one for when you bought Velvet Revolver's 'Contraband.' He didn't say anything, just smiled and promised to call.

     You honestly didn't think he would've. You played it off as just him trying to be nice. It didn't stop you from answering every call you got for the next three days, however, even if you recognized the number as the tax collector you'd normally never answer.

     But then he called.

     "I tried calling sooner, but I kept calling the wrong number. You don't have the most eligible handwriting," he had told you. You laughed but really, you were in shock.

     You set up a date at the fancy restaurant downtown that always intimidated you. You didn't say anything though, even though you knew you wouldn't want any of the overpriced food and you'd end up eating something you couldn't pronounce and was two portions too small. Maybe even hit up a fast food joint afterwards.

     When the day finally came, you couldn't even figure out what to wear. You couldn't tell if you looked underdressed or like you were trying too hard. Did the clothes even fit the right way? What would Duff think? Would he even care?

     All questions were answered when you left your house. Duff was leaning against his slick car parked in your driveway, a button up that was barely buttoned and dress pants with boots. He stared at you and you wanted a hole in the ground to shallow you up until he smiles.

     "You look gorgeous," he said. You blushed and grinned, thanking him before saying that he looked great too. He drove you to the restaurant and on the way, you talked about music.

     You shared some of your favorites, he adored how well rounded you were. You liked pretty much everything from punk rock to the mellowest of mellow. Duff mentioned some of his favorites, some you made sure to remember the names of so you can check them out.

     When the ride was over and you finally got to the restaurant, your previous fears came back. Duff reassured you looked better than 90% of the people there and you knew it wasn't true but it made you feel better anyway.

     Your eyes widened to the size of saucers when you saw the prices of the food. You knew it'd be pricey but you thought there'd be more options that stayed within two digit numbers.

     Duff saw your panicked expression and said not to worry, he'd pay. It didn't settle your nerves enough and when the waiter came, you ordered the cheapest and simplest thing you could find.

     "Chicken noodle soup?" He teased. You shyly looked down and shrugged. "This isn't your scene, is it?"

     "Not exactly, no."

     "Want me to be completely honest with you?" You nodded. "It's not mine either."

     That's all it took for you and Duff to scramble sheepishly out of the restaurant. You both shared a laugh in the car and went to Burger King. It was much more your speed and, as you'd find out that night, Duff's too. You suppose all the money he's had since such a young age didn't completely change his ways. He was like a kid trapped in a 40 year old man's body.

     You'd thought at first the age gap would feel strange, after all, you were 15 years younger than him. But after that night, it was barely noticeable. Funny looks from strangers every once in a while was nothing.

     By the second date, Duff was already aware fancy spots weren't your forte. He told you it was a surprise and to wear something cozy, as LA nights got chilly.

     He packed a picnic basket and drove you out to the most beautiful flower field you had ever seen at sunset. It was secluded and high up, giving a perfect view of the city skyline. After gawking and taking in the sights for a few moments, you regained your ability to speak.

     "It's gorgeous. Pretty far from the city, did you take me here to kill me?" You joked. He laughed and rolled his eyes. His lighthearted laugh sent sparks straight to your heart, and you decided that it was your favorite sound.

     You unfolded the blanket Duff brought and you both sat down. You ate the sandwiches and sliced fruit Duff packed and talked. You talked about everything, from your family to fears and insecurities.

You told him how you suffer from nightmares. Flashbacks from your broken childhood coming back to bite you in your sleep. Duff shared how he's suffered from panic attacks since he was a teenager. You felt you knew each other for years.

Neither of you felt weird for sharing and neither made the other insecure. You were completely open and honest with each other. It was strange, you've never connected to quickly and effortlessly with someone before. Sure, you've had men in your life, but never had you clicked with someone so fast, never had you fit with someone so perfectly.

Hours passed and it felt like minutes. Only did you realize how late and how exhausted you were when you saw most of the city buildings light have gone off for the night. The city that didn't sleep was dark.

"I should get you home," Duff said to you.

"Will you stay the night?" You felt a little silly for asking. Were things going too fast? Would he even want to stay over?

He agreed, and that's how your first night together went. You both stayed up even later and had more lighthearted conversations, unlike the ones that partook at the field. Like how one of Duff's first jobs was at a bakery and could bake a mean cake and how you can't cook to save your life.

You ended up waking up without remembering falling asleep. You're head was placed comfortably on Duff's lap while his head was lolled back against the couch cushion. He looked so serene and peaceful you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You made toast and somewhat successfully cooked some eggs and bacon. It might have been the first breakfast in years that didn't end with the smoke alarm going off.

Duff eventually wandered into the kitchen and you both ate. By the time he left, another date was already set up. He was like a drug an you were already hooked.

Months later and the addiction still wasn't kicked. You didn't want to, and Duff didn't seem to want you to quit either. You both soaked each other up like the sun on a warm day.

You had almost weekly dates and you stayed over each other's houses almost every other day. Duff did have his kids some days, though, so some days dates were cut short or Grace and Mae slept over his house and you wouldn't see each other.

You were always understanding, his kids came first and you'd never blame or get upset about it. It's something Duff admires about you, your never ending understanding and empathy for him.

One of those days where Duff stayed over at your house started normal. He cooked dinner and you washed the dishes, and then you put on an old Ramones concert you had on DVD.

You were laying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair when all of a sudden, he tensed up. He quickly stood and excused himself to the bathroom. You frowned but before you could think much of it, you heard a loud bang and something clatter to the ground.

You jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. You swung open the door because you were perfectly aware the lock hasn't worked since you moved in.

Duff was sitting on the floor, a pill bottle laying on its side not far from him. You quickly spot the name of the medication and identified it as your anti-anxiety pills. You shoved them aside and sat next to Duff.

He was sweating bullets and his skin felt cold and clammy, his breaths were labored and heartbeat was loud and pounding erratically. You coax him gently to take deep breaths, holding onto his hand tightly and talking quietly.

"I'm sorry, they come on randomly sometimes," he apologized after he'd called down, but you quickly shushed him. You reminded him of just how many nightmares he'd comforted you for and he stops feeling so bad about it.

     It was always a true partnership with Duff. Never had you felt you gave or took too much, it was always equal. Always a two way street, with everything.

That wasn't the last panic attack you had to help him come down from. Later down the line you've gotten better at calming him down and learning his triggers, even though sometimes they really do come on suddenly without reason.

A year into the relationship was when you met Grace and Mae. They were young and didn't completely understand why their parents weren't together anymore, so it took them a while to warm up to you. Luckily, they eventually came around.

Duff and Susan met up regularly to discuss their kids and co-parent properly. And while you had all the reason to be jealous of your boyfriend with his ex wife, you never did. You had complete confidence in him, he was honest and loyal and you doubted he'd ever hurt you purposely.

That's why it destroyed you when he left you. Tears were shed from both parties as he gave his reasons for breaking up with you. His insecurities he tried his best to bury had come to light and nothing could change his mind.

You thought you were completely honest with each other, but you suppose his doubt in his relationship with you was the one thing he kept secret. He had somehow convinced himself you'd be better without him, between the constant touring and the baggage that came with him and his kids, he finally buckled under the weight and stress.

You had tried to convince him that he was worth it, but if Duff is one thing it's stubborn. The best relationship you'd ever have and the best year of your life went down the drain within the matter of one conversation.

You were down in the dumps for days. You barely left your bed and didn't ever leave your house. You were in a depression and couldn't get out. A few of your friends eventually found out what had happened and broke into your house and shoved you into the shower before taking you to your favorite Chinese restaurant.

You felt like a disaster. Your hair was ratted despite the shower and you refused to put real clothes on, instead wearing sweatpants and a shirt Duff had left behind. You were a mess.

The hole in the wall restaurant was never busy but always had the best food. You were almost happy your friends dragged you out of your home until you saw Duff sitting at a table, eating egg rolls and lo mein.

You've came here together all the time. The high sodium in the food always made him sick to his stomach and you'd always end up giving him nausea remedies and tea. He never changed his order though.

You locked eyes with him for a while. Dark bags were under his eyes and he looked more pale than usual. He looked as terrible as you felt. You weren't sure if you were spitefully glad he felt awful or if the despair on his face just made your heart break further.

When you couldn't take his intense jade stare anymore, you looked up at the menu. The next time you looked back he was gone, you weren't sure if he was really there at all or if you were finally losing your mind for good.

     Another week crawled by. You got better enough to continue working. You had to pick up extra time for calling out for a few days after the breakup. You wouldn't say things were going well, but you weren't crying in bed every day all day anymore.

     You had constant dreams about him. Some were nice, ones where he didn't leave and you were together, holding each other tightly. Most were nightmares, flashbacks of when he left. You didn't have him to comfort you anymore when you woke up soaked in sweat and tears, and that might've been the worst.

     Another week went by, and you were starting to get back into the swing of things. You still thought about him, even silly little things reminded you of him. Like when you would catch a sniff of freshly baked sweets like he'd bake you or certain songs playing on the radio. It also didn't help that you ran into people wearing Guns n Roses shirts on the daily.

     You also refused to get rid of anything he'd left behind. Tee shirts, guitar picks he left from when he'd play for you, or CDs from bands he introduced you to. Reminders of what you lost were scattered around your home but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

     Suddenly, it's been a month. You weren't over him, but you had a feeling you'd never be completely. He was something special, you can't forget things as special as your relationship with Duff.

     His items still weren't thrown out or returned, instead all packed in a box sitting in your closet. But you'd be lying if you said you would never reach into the box to grab a shirt to sleep in or a CD to listen to when you needed a reminder of the good times. You were making progress though.

     You decided to leave your house one evening. You were feeling especially terrible and wanted to take a walk to clear your head. You went to the coffee shop you had first met Duff in. Maybe it was a mistake to go and get a flood of memories but you couldn't stop yourself.

     You sat in a seat near the window and people watched, taking occasional sips of your drink. It was quiet except from the talk of the workers and the hum of the overhead speakers.

     There was a sudden squeak of a chair of hardwood floors and it broke you out of your daze. You snapped your gaze up to meet the very familiar green eyes you've been trying to forget.

     "Can we talk?" He asked, and you couldn't say 'no.' Duff sat across from you and started off by apologizing.

     He said he wanted to talk to you sooner, but was too afraid you wouldn't want anything to do with him. You rolled your eyes at that, if only he knew just how much you missed him.

     He then started from the beginning and explained why he made the decision to leave you. As it turns out, it was mostly because of stress. His bandmate Scott was having problems with drugs and the flashbacks from his GnR days frightened him. He was worried he would end up relapsing and he didn't want to drag you down with him.

     Combine that with all the troubles that came with dating a single father, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt too guilty.

     It all seemed like ridiculous reasons to you. Even if he had made the mistake of falling off the wagon, you still would've stuck with him. And you didn't mind his kids at all, after nearly a year of knowing them and you were very close to them.

     "I love you, Duff. I wouldn't have left you over that, I'd help you through anything. And I love Grace and Mae, too," you told him.

     "I know, but I didn't want you to have to deal with all that baggage." You frowned at that. You reached your hand across the table and grasped his, squeezing it tenderly.

     "You're worth it."

     After that day, you and Duff started seeing each other again. It wasn't the same as before, but maybe even better.

     You were more transparent with each other. If one had a worry or problem, you'd go to the other. You talked everything through with him and he did the same. Even if it seemed insignificant, talking everything through never failed to make it better.

    You were happier and healthier than ever before. Sure, there were a roadblock or two, but they only made the relationship even stronger, and you wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

[cheliceralbane]

OH MY GOD GUYS i could go ON and ON about why jason really isn’t that bad. i legit wrote a 1k word 5 paragraph essay about why he’s actually not bad and i would be happy to share it but for now i will go over some of the main points i made:

1. as this person mentioned in their post, jason was grieving. his girlfriend suddenly died horrifically, so much so that her funeral was closed casket, at a drug dealer’s house. im sure he made some even worse assumptions about what could’ve happened to her there before she died.

2. chrissy was NOT okay. even if she was good at ‘masking’ sometimes, jason isn’t fucking stupid, im sure he noticed something wasn’t right. she was eating differently, wearing baggier clothes, probably took more trips to the bathroom to throw up after eating. and im sure he tried to talk to her about it and im sure that she refused and pushed him away because she didn’t want to burden him and she thought it would all blow over. and then, all of a sudden, during this struggle, she died.

3. hawkins. the man lives in hawkins. his parents are extremely religious and he’s heard from them and potentially from the church about satanic rituals and sacrifices and evil d&d, and after absorbing all the fearmongering, im sure it didn’t ease him to see the hellfire club logo all the time. and then when all this starts happening, what else is he supposed to believe?

4. fucking Andy. jason isn’t bad, but you know who is? Andy! Andy is a TERRIBLE influence! do i still love him? yes! but he’s worse than jason and clearly rubbed off on him.

5. patrick. dude, i don’t know what YOU would do if you were in a boat with your best friend and the resident freak who you think is a devil worshiper (and who keeps entertaining that idea because he thinks it’s funny to push your buttons), and all of a sudden your friend LEVITATED in the presence of the alleged devil worshiper and had all his bones broken and his eyes squashed by an invisible force, only for the devil worshiper to just have DISAPPEARED when you turn back around… but i think i might also come to the conclusion that maybe i was right and he was the one committing all the ritualistic murders.

6. man. max. as viewers we forget that not every character has the same context we do, and sometimes we tend to have less empathy for the ones who don’t know what’s going on. jason did not know that the Walkman was crucial to Max’s survival. i would probably think that Lucas is full of shit too after seeing all the shit jason saw. and if i thought somebody was trying to sacrifice a girl to Satan, and restraining him wouldn’t stop it, i understand why killing him seemed like the only option left. he died seeing Lucas holding her. he didn’t know that Lucas was comforting her. he thought he was finishing her off. he fucking died thinking that he had failed to save his girlfriend, failed to save his best friend, and failed to save a young girl who was RIGHT in front of him. he died thinking he had failed everyone he ever fucking cared about. and that breaks my heart.

Unpopular opinion 2; Jason was initially just grieving. He wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be.

[bukojuiice]

farewell, my dark knight. — diluc ragnvindr

ೃ ft. diluc x gender neutral! reader

ೃ 6k words

ೃ tags and warnings: angst. a sweet and lovestruck diluc. reminiscing memories with him. he writes you letters and talks to you about his day. he’s very soft and he’s very much in love with you.

ೃ requested by anon:  “hi! could i request a diluc x reader, in which diluc dies from a mission, and as reader is cleaning out his room, they find letters neatly packed into drawers, and with closer inspection, they are letters diluc wrote to reader every day, so when he isn’t around anymore, reader can read them and not forget about him? sorry i’m a sucker for angst and your writing omg” (thank you for this request! and for making me cry while writing it! <3 i put a lot of work into this, so i hope everyone enjoys!)

ೃ genshin impact masterlist

ೃ if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡ (please like and most esp. reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot!)

They say all your senses and your feelings are heightened when you are broken and mourning.

You hear things more clearly like the tenderness of his voice because it’s better than listening to the drum of your heart.

You feel the sun, the air, and his gentle touch on your skin because you are trying to feel things instead of shutting down. 

You smell his perfume and the scent of the pancakes he used to make- everywhere. 

You still feel his fingers as though they are knotted through yours and it makes you cry.

It hurts.

It pains you. 

This is the most tragic day of your life.

“Sir Diluc has.. passed away.” Jean announces, reaching for your hands and squeezing them in support. She pulls you inside a spare and lonely room in the Ragnvindr manor. Lisa is at her side, for extra emotional support, handing you a spare handkerchief as they break the news to you. 

Your heart sank. 

You were not the first to know. But, even if you were… there was no possible way.

 You were a traveling adventurer in search of something that will quell your curiosities; disappearing for days or weeks on end. There were times when Diluc would come with you on your travels and the two of you would just go wherever your heart desires. Staying in Qingce Village and mingling with the elderly townsfolk, Visiting the Adeptus abode, strolling around Springvale or vacationing in the summer islands… there was nothing that could stop the two of you together. 

As two of the heroes of Mondstadt from the Stormterror incident and his status as the esteemed owner of the Dawn Winery, you were famed and loved by all. Though as Diluc was not one for friendliness or casual interactions with others, It was all because of you that he had befriended some particular members of the Adventurer’s guild and the Knights of Favonius. You had even asked them if they could visit the Dark Knight hero at the winery from time to time. 

Well, aside from the regular visits of Venti and Kaeya to satisfy their quench for wine, Jean accompanied by Amber and Lisa to ask for advice, uncommon visitors such as Klee and Albedo had even come by to accompany him now and show him their wonderful new experiments and discoveries….

 You had given him a reason to have hope in the people of Mondstadt once again. His previous faction with the Favonius knights may have been imperfect, but Jean had proved to be amazing enough to rectify all these past mistakes that had eased Diluc’s resentment to the knights.

You continue to count back to all the things that he has done for you. As someone who’s had no home and who’s been traveling all their life, Diluc became your home. He had fallen for you and your wondrous soul. He was your living reminder that you can find home in a person. Someone who you can rely on, someone you will come back to after a long tiring day, someone who will love you for who you are and who will kiss your flaws away.  

And now, he’s gone. Just like that.

You have been gone for three months prior to all of this as you were on a secret commission to fight off a huge group of treasure hoarders in Natlan. Although you were able to travel back to Fontaine shortly after, you had to wait for further instruction from the guild before you could come back to Mondstadt. At the time, the only thoughts to occupy your mind was Diluc who had been waiting for your return and your longing and desire to run into his arms and for him to kiss your tiredness away. 

However, it took two agonizing days before Jean’s letter had arrived. All you could do was weep and worry endlessly at the inside of a quaint inn at the heart of the bustling and picturesque region that was Fontaine. Inside her letter were updated reports of Diluc’s disappearance; he had been missing for three days without telling the maids or any of the inhabitants of the mansion and the winery of his departure. He left without a trace…

As soon as the sun had risen that same day, you quickly left the region and made your way back to Mondstadt. With no knowledge or premonition that at the same day…

Diluc would be found.

On the road to Mondstadt, the staff at the Winery had been going on their merry day to deliver the wine to the city, when they came across a body. Battered and bruised. Upon closer inspection, it was their dearest master; the current head of the Ragvindr family. Further suspicion arose when a hoard of Fatui members had been defeated; lying beside the riverbend not too far from the manor. The Knights of Favonius had quickly deduced that Diluc had crawled all the way back to the outskirts of the Manor but had unfortunately succumbed to his injuries. 

From that day on, the sun had never shined again. 

Your stomach was in knots. You had a feeling that something had happened and yet, you didn’t expect for it to be something like this. You didn’t expect to hear about the state that he was in when he was found.

He’s strong. He’s the Dark Knight Hero, One of the protectors of Mondstadt; Hell, he’s one of the most powerful vision users of the region.

Yet… how did this happen?

A knock on the door had brought you out of your trance. With a simple “Come in.” said by Jean, the guest in question was revealed to be Kaeya who peered out from the door. A forlorn expression plastered upon his face. His head turns and your eyes meet his, “(Y/N)... how are you doing?” His voice gentle and melancholic. 

“N-never been better.” You remark in between sobs. “I-I need time to process this.” Wiping your tears with the handkerchief, you stand up, about to take your leave. “I-I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“According to the Favonius accords, Sir Diluc must be buried tom-”

“To hell with the Favonius accords!” You snap, still trying to fight back the tears as the three knights stare at you in shock and in empathy. “M-master Jean… p-please. Just one more day. Before I have to say goodbye to him forever… Let me have one day to reminisce about him.”

The Acting Grandmaster hesitates, as if collecting her thoughts first before she speaks. “Very well. We will be arranging the burial and other matters in the near future. For now, please get all the rest and recuperation you need. Thank you for your time, honorary knight. We’ll see you in a few days.” Jean holds your hand and gives it another reassuring squeeze as she and Lisa watch your walking figure make your way out of the room. 

Kaeya, who was still in front of the entryway, moves to the side to give you some space to make your leave. “Before the maids fully clean up his room, why don’t you tune in there for the night? I’m sure Diluc would love that.” 

“He would.” You smile half-heartedly, the indigo-haired man giving you a reassuring pat on the arm. “T-thanks Kaeya. I will.” 

“I’ll be staying in the manor for the rest of Diluc’s memorial if you want t-to… talk about him. See you around.” You nod at him before shuffling down the stairs to enter the manor wing that led to Diluc’s room.

Oh, how you wish you were as calm as Jean and as emotionally mature as Kaeya right now. 

How are they able to hold up so well? How are they able to take this all in and not be on the verge of breakdown like you are? They’ve known Diluc since childhood. Hell, Kaeya was his adopted brother. His brother in arms. How are they able to accept his death just like that? 

Are you just… not as strong as them?

You take a left turn around the manor wing that leads to Diluc’s room to be surprised by Adelinde who greets you in front of Diluc’s door, a torn and bloodied folded paper in her hands. “Honorary knight, we have a letter addressed to you. The staff at the winery found it tucked inside Master Diluc’s pocket. You might want to read it.” She gingerly hands you the folded piece, patting your hand gently once she places it in your palm.

“Thank you, Adelinde.” 

You turn your attention to unlocking the door, fishing for the spare key that he had given you and inserting it into the knob, you hear the head maid speak behind your back. 

“Whilst you were away, there was never a day that Master Diluc had not spoken about you with such love and praise. I hope you know in your heart how much he loves and cherishes you. As there was never another person in his life who he had loved the most after Sir Crepus’ passing.” She recounts, her voice is slow and meek. “Thank you for loving Master Diluc and for showing him what it truly means to be a part of a family again. The entire staff sends our deepest condolences and we will be here for you and Sir Kaeya whenever you need us.” From the side of your eye, you see Adelinde bowing deeply before she subsequently takes her leave and disappears into the hallway.

With a heavy sigh, the door clicks and you enter your beloved’s abode. 

Not one thing has been touched. It still looks and remains the same.

His coat is still hanged on his wardrobe door, his usual button up black dress shirts folded neatly on one of the drawers, books that he’s read to you time and time again are shelved properly, a hearth in front of the bed that reminded you of your endless cuddles in front of the fireplace, his gloves neatly placed on his bedside table, and pictures of the two of you together in the Golden Apple Archipelago taken with the Kamera are hung on clips and strings on his desk.

It was like he never left. 

Like his physical being had just gone off on a long adventure.

Yet, it feels so empty. 

Because his soul and his presence is no longer here with you.

And it hurts. Everything hurts.

You take a seat on his bed. The mattress slightly creaks as you reach for an unusual piece of paper sticking out of his bedside drawer. Opening the cabinet slowly, your suspicion and curiosity heightens when what is revealed to be inside was a wooden box. Engraved were Diluc’s initials and letters that spelled out “Do not touch” 

Curiosity overwhelming you, you gingerly open the wooden box to be surprised with folded letters written by Diluc that were all addressed to you. Along with the date and time it was made. 

He wrote letters every single day. Hoping that once you came home, you could finally read them. Trying your best not to burst into tears, you carefully look through all of them and notice that they were all written during your absence. During those three agonizing months that you were gone. 

Although his daily letters were short and simply written, he never fails to write to you an encompassing message at the end of the week. In each weekly letter, he entailed many things: Like writing to you about his day, how much he misses you, how much time has passed, and discussing particular things he found during his nightly patrols or interesting things about his day. He wrote letters to you as if you were right there with him. His words etched with simplicity yet full of love. He wrote these letters to be whisked away from a minute of his otherwise mundane life. And despite how uneventful they may be, he still shares them with you because he knows you will listen. He knows you will take your time to read everything. As even though the two of you may be thousands of miles apart, your hearts will still beat as one.

You finally find the one that he had written for you the day after your departure, and begin to read it’s contents. Preparing yourself for an overflow of emotions that you were not ready for. 

JANUARY 3RD, 45 BP

As much as I hate to see you go, I realized that life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us from the ones we love. For the recent years that have passed, I have seen staff at the winery and maids in the manor come and go. And yet, I still haven’t gotten used to seeing you go off on your adventures. There are times I wish I could just be free of all of these responsibilities and come along with you on your escapades. But alas, I will presume that life is not for me. Always know that no matter where my life takes me or yours takes you, I will love you whether there are 1000 miles between us or none at all.

I miss you already, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 10TH, 45 BP

A week has come to pass since you left and I’ve been trying my best to keep myself busy. Kaeya has come to visit me and so has Venti, but they have done absolutely nothing to alleviate my boredom. In fact, they’ve all been a pain in the arse. When I tossed them into two of the guest rooms for passing out drunk, I was suddenly reminded of the times that you would wait for me at the Angel’s Share and help me drag Rosaria back to the cathedral, Kaeya back to his residence, and Venti back to the tree in Windrise. Then, we would take a night stroll around the city as the dwindling lights of the shops and houses being the only things illuminating our way. I cannot wait to do all of this with you again. It feels like the universe closes in around us whenever we’re together. But… the moment is so fleeting and you are gone again. The universe is awfully large and I am awfully small,  unable to hold the world with my hands. I just wish you were here to make me feel as if the universe is close enough to reach once more. 

Good night, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 17TH, 45 BP

It is 9 o’ clock in the evening as I write this. Today, Bennett had visited and asked if I could train him to control his vision. I said yes as I had nothing much better to do. Fischl and Razor were there to accompany him as well. To be quite honest, they’re quite a convivial trio. It’s nice to see them remain free-spirited despite everything that has happened recently. I could not bear to remain as cheerful as they are amidst the constant abyss order and Fatui attacks. After our training, Razor had come up to me and told me that you and I are lupical. I didn’t quite understand at first, but with Fischl’s long and heavy explanation, I had come to understand what it meant: Family.

Perhaps… we can be a family? Have a family of our own?

Oh… wait. I know, it’s too soon. So, please disregard my wishful thinking for now. I’d like to apologize if that may have come out the wrong way.

Thank you for reading today’s letter, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

JANUARY 24TH, 45 BP

I finished a book I borrowed from the Favonius library today. Lisa said you've been eyeing the tome for a long time. However, since Ella Musk was borrowing it at the time and you had to leave shortly for your trip to Natlan, you never got the chance to. I'd like to apologize for having been able to read it in advance. Perhaps, I can read it to you once you get home? Maybe in front of the fireplace, blankets hugging us for warmth, and cups of hot chocolate in our hands? Anyhow, there was something I found interesting about it.

There are Sumeru philosophers who claim that the past, present, and future all exist at the same time. That there are parallel universes. It had me thinking, in another universe... Would we still be together? Will fate bring us together? Could there be more for us outside of this blue sky we share?

I'm sorry for making you worry. It's probably my insomnia kicking in. These past twenty days have been quite lonely without you.

Goodnight, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us. 

JANUARY 31ST, 45 BP

I can’t believe that January has finally come to pass. It feels like forever since you left. I know, I know, I sound like I’m sulking. But… the thoughts I had from finishing the book last week still have not left my mind. If only I could close my eyes and find myself in the place wherever you are right now. Kind of like…. What were those called? Waypoints? Yes! Those. Mayhaps, I should pay Sucrose or Albedo a visit and ask if they could make a portable wayfinder for me or a potion that can teleport me anywhere? Well, at least I have something interesting to do tomorrow. 

See you soon, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us. 

FEBRUARY 7TH, 45 BP

The day you left, I went through all my old journals, frantically looking for the first mention of you. Searching for details I can no longer recall and any morsel of information that may have been lost. It honestly made me laugh at how different I used to think of you back then. You were always a kindred soul and yet, there was an eccentric air around you that I just couldn't quite understand. It was the good kind, of course. I have never thought ill of you since the beginning. Ever since the tragedy that befell my father, I would push everyone away from me. I told myself that if you didn't form close bonds with others, then you wouldn't get attached to them. They would be easier to let go and you could. But... you were the first who went out of your way for me. The first time you entered Angel's Share and challenged me to a game of chess solely because someone from the Adventurers' guild told you so? I knew there was something about you. Something wonderful. I wish to show you these old journals soon. Mayhaps you can get a clearer picture of my thoughts and impressions of others once you read them. 

For now, all I can do is count the days until you are home once more.

 Goodnight my love, may the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 14, 45 BP

People should fall in love more. Fall in love with how the dandelions blow with the wind, Fall in love with the safe and comforting feeling of being in the middle of a bustling city that is Mondstadt, Fall in love with the stars and the night that shines before us and Fall in love with the idea of being in love or loving someone. Having recently realized these things, I had the most spontaneous idea of wanting to get married in the Winery with you. In the future, of course. I know it’s not much. But I know you’re not the type to want anything fancy, so it’s the perfect area for the most beautiful moment of our lives to take place.

I had gotten a little too into the idea of planning our wedding and I aimlessly listed down those who will be attending. All our closest friends and family. Can you imagine Little Klee as the flower girl? Kaeya as the best man? Jean and Lisa as the maids of honor? Maybe we can even ask Eula to choreograph our wedding dance for us? Most importantly, have the wonderful honor of having the Lord Barbatos to officiate our marriage?

Once again, I hope you can pardon me and my blissful escapism. I can’t wait for the day to arrive where we can plan all of this and make it a perfect wedding.

As always, thank you for reading my constant rambles and inner thoughts, my love.

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

FEBRUARY 21ST, 45 BP

If you were taken away from me, this place called our world, I would cry.

Sighing, wringing my hands, and wondering why.

How can the archons and those up in Celestia dare to take the most precious soul in the universe from me?

But... what if I would be the one who would be taken away from you? Will you feel the same way too?

FEBRUARY 28TH, 45 BP

Please excuse me for everything I said in my message last week. I may have sounded somewhat selfish and I'd like to apologize for making you overthink when you already have so much on your plate. I cannot wait to mail out these letters to you, but the postal office in Monstadt doesn't deliver letters to Natlan, unfortunately. I guess I have to wait until you reach Fontaine. Putting those aside for a moment, something happened today that I wanted to share with you. Whilst I was feeding Noctua, I had realized something. What about the little birds who dream of flight? Those who gaze into the starry night and think that one day... they might be a part of that same sky? To be free, to explore, and to have the feeling of air and light coursing through their wings. Is... this the same feeling you felt before? Is this why you go on adventures?

I'd love to talk to you more about this once you get home. For now, all I can do is write you a letter and bid you goodnight. 

May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

March 7TH, 45 BP

Whenever I write a letter addressed to you, I feel a raw ache in my bones when the ink seeps into the paper— for I feel the bittersweet sorrow of wanting you to be right by my side, to have my fingers intertwined with yours, and to be exhumed by you because you have always seen past all my flaws and imperfections. I miss you. So much. At this point, it feels as if I have no right to. Tell me... is it right to feel this way? Am I being selfish for wanting the days to come by? For April to be in our midst? Can I blame the archons for wanting to have you in my arms again? There’s something happening next week, and to be honest, I’m quite excited for it. See you soon, my love.

 May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

March 14TH, 45 BP

Today is the first day of the Windblume Festival. How I terribly wish you were in Mondstadt right now. This would have been your first year and I know you would love the events. I remember when Father brought Kaeya and I to the festival for the very first time, and oh how my eyes were filled with wonderment and unshaken innocence. He gifted us a harp that day, and I still play it when I have time. It’s a wonderful keepsake with a lovely name, (The Windblume Ode) and it never fails to remind me of my father. I wonder if… Kaeya still kept his? Nostalgia aside, Venti caught up to me on the way home and told me I should see what he has in store for the second week of the festival. I know that the bard has a lot up his sleeve, but this particular encounter with him filled me with curiosity. What could it be? What does he have in store for me?

Before I end this, I bought you a bouquet of Dandelions and Cecilias today. They have a different color than the usual wreaths and posies, as these ones only bloom during Windblume. I placed them inside the vase on your desk just a few minutes ago. I do not necessarily have green thumbs, so please do not blame me if anything bad happens. I made sure that they’re still in season once you get home and I can’t wait for you to see them.

Goodnight my love, May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

MARCH 21ST, 45 BP

Once you get home, please do assist on reprimanding the bard for me. Can you believe he had tricked me into attending his love poem-making classes? Since a lot of the cityfolk have been dying to take writing classes under him and were willing to pay if he did, he had decided to take this opportunity to receive mora and “get rich.” Venti brags to the cityfolk that he will use their compensation for good reasons… but we all know he’ll just spend it wasting away at Angel’s Share. I won't let him pass me when it’s my hour to manage the tavern, of course. But… maybe one drink as a prize for all his hard work wouldn’t be too bad? After all, I did learn a lot of things from him. He was also quite smart for incorporating such an activity with Windblume. As during the festivities,  the people of Mondstadt offer Windblumes to Barbatos and to those they love and adore. 

I spent all day being mentored and trained into creating “the most romantic poem written in Teyvat” I know Venti is bluffing and was just trying to soften me so I wouldn’t get mad at him, yet he was actually genuinely impressed with my poetic skills. I didn’t want anyone else to read it before you did, but he snatched the paper from my hands as soon as I finished so that he may critique it. I… didn’t expect him to shed a tear. 

Here is the poem I wrote for you, my love. I hope you’ll like it.

“I wish one day, I'd be able to lay you down on a bed of roses with

the stars watching over us.

I wish one day we will be able to see the world together, to touch the stars and become planets.

After all, darling, stars, like life, is what you make of it. 

 I wish you knew how much I've loved you for all these years, so quietly, so loudly.

One day these roses will never compare to the redness in your cheeks, the softness of your heart.

 One day you will see kingdoms rise and the sun dance on your eyelids.

 And one day the moon will hang from your fingertips, waiting for you to refract your light and hope onto others.

You are an enigmatic being. A beautiful soul. Sometimes I think that you’re not from this universe.

 You have enraptured my soul; my whole being. You taught me how to love. 

Everything about you is out of this world and I am merely a human amazed by your interstellar presence as if you are written in the stars.”

 MARCH 28TH, 45 BP

I think I’ve gotten the hang of writing poems. I’m quite confident in my lyricism and in my writing now. So, here’s an excerpt of another poem I’m writing for you. 

 “I will love you through all the days and nights we are apart.

I will love you through every day and as the darkness turns to light. 

It is four o’ clock in the afternoon and this is the hardest part.

But this is the way I love you, even if most days we are apart.” 

 That’s all for now. I’m afraid you’ll only see the final draft once you get back. I hope you’re having a wonderful time at Natlan. Take care always, my love.

 May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

 APRIL 4TH, 45 BP

I’ve been pondering about something again today. And It’s all because of Kaeya and Jean. They came over and we reminisced all day long about our childhood memories with tea and crumpets to accompany us. It was a nice feeling. To be able to look back on your childhood with such wistfulness. With such warmth. And with that, I realized something soon after: We’re young, but not that young. Some of the folk in Springvale are sixty-five and still feel young. Even Lord Barbatos feels young. Just because we have years ahead of us doesn’t mean our love isn’t going to last a lifetime. But… that’s the thing. We don’t have an entire lifetime to show love and affection towards each other and to others. Which is why we have to make the most of it. Live in the moment. Make the most of every minute that your heart is beating. Love endlessly. Be kind to others. That’s… what you always told me right? Even if we don’t have the rest of our lives to be with each other, I will still love you anyway. Every day, deeply, wholeheartedly, even if we are young and even if we are old. My love for you will be gentle, but fierce and bold.

That is all for now, my love. May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us.

April 11TH, 45 BP

The words are melting in my mouth like snow, and I feel like I'm running on empty, but there are only 5 days until you come home. I have dreamt every night of the morning we are together again. You will be drinking dandelion wine and I will be talking about how the orchard will finally bloom. Then in the next few months, we can do everything we dreamed about. We can go around the winery, have picnics amongst the stars, walk around Mondstadt and go on adventures once more. Soon, you will be home, and I will watch the leaves and patiently wait for time to pass by  until we are together again. 

 But.. since I cannot wait no more, I plan to travel all the way to Fontaine to see you. I will not be telling any of the maids or the staff where I’ll be going. They would worry if I left again. This is all going to be a surprise and this letter will proof of that. I want to be beside you once more and I cannot bear to wait for five more days. I will be leaving at Dawn tomorrow! I’ll treat this as a little vacation. I rightfully deserve it as a treat for my birthday, hoping I can spend it together with you. Maybe… we can take a quick detour and go on a little adventuring? Just the two of us. I know you’ll be weary from your trip, but we can continue to stay at Fontaine but we can go once you’ve fully recovered.

 I cannot wait to feel your warmth and your love in person again. See you soon, my beloved.

 May the stars of Teyvat always shine upon us. 

That was it. That was the last letter stored in the box. 

 You stare into nothingness, unable to find the words to say. 

 Tears began to form in your eyes, your vision blurring and your hands quivering at the thought of him. All these letters he’s written to you all throughout these months and the fact that he was planning to surprise you by meeting with you at Fontaine? It hurts you so much thinking of all the things that could’ve been. Thinking about what could’ve happened if this tragedy did not take place.

 “Diluc…”

 You call out for his name. Hoping there is an answer. 

 But… of course there isn’t. 

 Your hands absentmindedly graze upon the corners of the  bed when you suddenly remember the torn letter Adelinde had given you. 

 You open the letter with slight hesitance, noticing the dark stains that presumably came from Diluc’s torn and dirtied clothes. With a heavy sigh and as you dry your tears, you begin to read the letter. 

APRIL 13TH, 45 BP

Ever since you left, I felt as if we were breaking the whole world's heart. But... all this time, it was always the other way around. It was the world that was slowly breaking us. 

 Even in these last moments, I cannot fathom that I will be disappearing from this world without even seeing you again. It hurts. My body. There are bruises and wounds all over. My hands are trembling in fear and weariness. I can barely move my wrist and I can hardly think of the words I want to say. I feel the end is drawing near. Not for the world, not for you, but for me. Everything is caving in, my senses are slowing, my eyes are falling, and just waiting for the rest of my system to put me into an eternal sleep. 

 Would... time be so kind as to slow? Can the world stop for a minute and listen to my plea? To my call? A miracle to happen that could magically transport you to me? I w-wish we could have spent more time together. All these letters I’ve written for you these past few months… were they an omen? Was I foolish to think I could have a future with you? Is this the price to pay for having been separated from you for so long? Is it… still possible to attain it? The life I’ve always wanted with you?  Maybe in another world, we can. 

We will share every innocent dream and talk about our fears. All your hopes and dreams. I will listen to the sound of your voice and the echoes of your soul. I will kiss your forehead, your knuckles, and your lips. I will stand by you in every new day even when people seem so unkind. I will join up all your insecurities, bundle all your flaws, and make them into a constellation so that I may find them and wish them away. I will do everything to make you feel safe. I will do everything to make you feel loved. There was never a day that I doubted you. You are everything to me, (Y/N). You are a free and wandering soul. I wish I could be behind you to support you wherever you may go, but alas, that fate is not for me. And… I think that’s fine.

 Remain as you are. Continue to love others like you have loved me. Teach them what it means to live. Like you have taught me.

 Please… don’t be sad. This is the momentary sadness to a new beginning, my beloved.

I love you to the stars and back. 

I hope that in another world, our paths may cross again. 

May the stars of Teyvat always shine on you.

A heavy yet comforting feeling fills your heart as tears continue to stream down your cheeks. Folding the letter and putting it into the box amongst all the others, You clutch your hand to your chest, looking up at the ceiling.

 “Diluc, my love… if you are out there. I will love you forever. Through all these months of my absence, you have never left my mind and I wish I could have been there  for you. I wish I could have given you the same amount of love that you have given me. There are so many things I wish I could have done with you. Every letter and every word you’ve ever dedicated to me will forever remain in my heart. These handwritten sentiments will be one of my reminders that you are still with me, no matter where I go. Even if it hurts so much, I will continue to live for you. Honor your memory. I will show the world that I have only loved one man in this lifetime. Thank you for everything.

 You have now become one of the stars that shine down upon me. Soon, we will once again meet in the same sky and there, we will have our happily ever after.

 Farewell, my dark knight.”

ೃ taglist: @ganyuuxs @mignonextte @inlovewithadeptusxiao @duhsies @qimiie @kozu-zumi @volleybloop @latteshinsou @catgirlkomi @reaped-winnower @monaa @dibhachu @sugurus-princess​ @midnightangelfox​ @call-me-moonflower

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Complete 6

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, general hatred, allusions to death, toyplay, binding/restraint, whipping.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Think we got one chapter left after this one but don’t worry, we will eventually have more Birch beyond that.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 6: Wait and you'll see

💀💀💀

Your ankle bent for the fifth time as you entered the small county hospital. Loki kept his hand covertly on your elbow after you jabbed him several times in the ribs on the drive over and noticed the way your eyes searched around. You couldn’t help it. Even if Jerome’s life was in the balance, you wanted nothing more than to be away from this man; if you could call him one.

The halls were sterile and the bright lights added to the sting in your eyes as you were shown to your brother’s room. A motorcycle accident, the nurse said, but Jerome’s bike was destroyed with everything else in your shop. You knew what happened was far from an accident.

His eyes were closed and tubes ran down his arms and across his face. It was a sobering sight. It reminded you of your father’s last months. You dreaded seeing anyone like that ever again. Even if Jerome was a cowardly weasel, even if he let those men trade you like livestock, he was still your kin and he was all you had left of your father.

You wiggled away from Loki and he let you as he pinched you in warning. You went to Jerome’s bedside and glanced over at your escorts. Korg actually showed an ounce of empathy as he stared at the bed.

“Can I have some privacy?” you snarled.

“We’ll be right outside. Don’t think of trying anything,” Loki reproached.

“I just want to be alone with my brother,” you curled your lip, “not everything is about you.”

You waited until you stepped out and you leaned on the bed rail. He looked so frail just laying there with machines pumping life into him. The nurse said he might wake up but they were still waiting. The only good news she had was that the surgery on his spine was successful.

“I don’t forgive you,” you whispered, “I never will but I love you.”

Your eyes pricked and you rolled them to force away the tears. The machines beeped and fanned. You shook your head and gave a grim smile.

“I want to ask how we got here but we know. We knew life would be like this. Daddy said it would. He knew you were gonna be a club man like him and he told you to hold onto your soul. He’d be so disappointed.” You sighed, “Do you know what that man is doing to me? What he’s gonna do?”

You looked away and huffed. You were angry, hurt, but not broken. Not yet.

“I can’t stop him, I know that,” you confessed quietly as you reached for his hand, “I was stupid to think I was different from those other girls. To think I’m above them. No, these men are all the same and we just gotta deal with it.”

You swallowed and pushed yourself up.

“Yeah, yeah, we know what happened to mama. Same thing’ll happen to me now,” you said, “and you’re gonna go see daddy. I hope he’s at peace, I hope you find that too.”

You turned and wiped your wet eyes. You wouldn’t let Loki see you cry. He wouldn’t have that pleasure. You would play along until you could act. You would pretend that you believed Jerome would live. You would fake, you would take, you would survive.

💀

The car ride was silent as you stared out the window. You were quiet, still. Even as Loki’s fingers wandered to your skirt and played with the fabric, you did nothing. You were tired and fighting wasn’t doing nothing but draining your energy. You leaned back and played with the button of the jacket. The clothes were entirely impractical against the winter.

The main road of Birch passed outside your window and Korg drove by the sidestreet where the Victorian house stood. You saw the moniker with Cleopatra and you didn’t need to ask where you were going. You didn’t even wonder why. You knew.

“You think you can behave?” Loki asked, “for your brother’s sake?”

You turned to him and resisted a snarl. You nodded and tensed as he squeezed your leg.

“Darling, I mean it. You go in there and you show the boys how tame you can be,” he smirked, “show off your new clothes.”

“I got it,” you said through gritted teeth, “but you touch my brother again and I will never stop. I won’t stop until you kill me too.”

He raised his head in triumph and flicked your chin with his finger, “we have an understanding, don’t we, darling?”

You turned and reached for the handle. He let you and followed you out smoothly. He was quick to hook his arm around your waist as Korg led the way to the bar and opened the door ahead of you. You entered and focused on keeping one foot in front of the other as your instinct told you to throttle the man at your side.

Your breath caught in your throat as your vision cleared. Steve sat with his girl and Bucky with that waitress he was fucking. You saw in her eye a feeling you knew well. Her and the mousy one shared that brittle complacency. Your sights narrowed at Bucky as you got closer and time seemed to slow.

When you reached the table, Bucky looked over and stood. He smiled between you and Loki, the amusement plain on his face. You felt the flicker inside of you. You couldn’t hold back as you slipped quickly from Loki’s grasp and around the side of the table. You latched onto the front of his jacket. You hit him across the jaw with your fist and were ready to lay another as someone caught your fist.

The voices rose around you as you kicked out and caught him in the stomach as you were wrenched away. You looked up as you growled a slew of curses and found Steve and Loki both clinging to your arms. You continued to flail.

“You fucking piece of shit,” you grunted, “I swear to fucking God, I’m going to end you!”

“What did I say?” Loki hissed as they tried to rein you in.

Bucky was just as fast as he approached you and drew his gun. You didn’t still even as he aimed the muzzle at you and stared down the barrel. 

“She’s fucking rabid,” Steve uttered, “Christ.”

“Do it, you fucking bastard!” You spat.

There were no thoughts, no fears, only pure rage as you stomped your feet and tried to wriggle free. You glared back at Bucky as the gun hung before him. He exhaled loudly and put it away.

“You gotta put a leash on that bitch,” Bucky said, “I told you it wasn’t going to be easy.”

“Darling,” Loki said as you yanked against his hold, “that’s enough. Surely you didn’t forget so quickly that yours is not the only life in the balance.”

You looked over at him and blinked. You unballed your hands and stilled. You were stiff as the anger tensed your entire body but you tamped it down with effort. The men slowly released you. You peered around as you seethed, the two women at the table watched you in shock but beneath, you saw intrigue.

You raised your hands in surrender and looked at Bucky. Your jaw locked but you forced the words out. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” he raised his brows as his own anger receded, “what was that?”

“I’m sorry,” you enunciated, “alright?”

He laughed and looked you up and down dramatically, “didn’t think you’d get this far,” he said to Loki, “she looks like a woman.”

It took everything you had not to try again. You backed away as Loki removed his jacket and you mirrored him. He pulled out a chair and pointed you down with sneer. He sat beside you and rolled his shoulders as he fixed his blazer.

“Apologies for our lateness, we did have to make a detour,” he said, “I promise, I will keep her in line for the rest of the night.”

Bucky poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth, “you better,” he grinned.

You looked to your lap and unbent your fingers as your nails dug into your palm. You peeked around and caught the eye of Bucky’s girl and for a moment you just stared back. She was pensive and tilted her head before she looked away. You might not be entirely alone.

💀

“I am unimpressed with that scene,” Loki hissed as Korg clung to your arm and angled you up the stairs ahead of them, “but I will give you a choice. Do I punish you or your brother?”

You reached the top and turned down the hallway. You entered the bedroom without resistance as the burly toady kept his grasp on you. You turned with him and watched Loki enter.

“I’m sorry, really. I deserve… punishment. Not him,” you said stiffly as you swallowed. The words were like bile in your throat.

“Oh, darling, that is the smartest thing I’ve heard you say,” he slithered, “Korg, get her clothes off.”

You blinked and looked up at Korg. He returned your gaze doubtfully and glanced back at Loki.

“Sir?” he asked.

“You heard me,” Loki said as he went over the chest of drawers and pulled the top one out, “get her naked and put her on the bed.”

“I can do it myself--”

“No, Korg, do as I say and hold her down,” he turned as he held some leather straps and you scrunched your nose as you tried to decipher all the crisscrossing.

“Sir, I--”

“You know I don’t like to repeat myself and I’ve already done so once,” he snapped, “so do it.”

Korg let you go and you bent quickly to undo your boots. He watched you take them off and you put your back to him, “the zipper,” you said quietly. He pushed it down and you held your arms straight as he tugged the sleeves past your wrists. He jerked you unintentionally as the dress gather at your waist and apologized.

You steeled yourself and stepped out of the fabric as it fell to your ankles. It felt like giving up but it was the only way. It was a means to an end. You bit down as Korg fumbled with your bra and stuttered. You reached back to help him and the cleared his throat.

“Hurry up, you fool,” Loki growled.

Korg hesitated as he pushed down your stockings one at a time and then slipped your panties off your hips. He stood and gripped your arm, lighter than before. You let him move you to the bed and Loki stopped him.

“Raise your foot, darling,” he bent and opened the leather straps. 

You obeyed and he nodded to the other. You lifted your other foot and put it back down. He pulled it up your legs and zipped the harness up to your waist. The leather straps wounded around your pelvis and thighs but offered no cover, just a strap along your cunt. 

“Put her arms back,” Loki demanded as he rose and came around you. He pointed behind you and your wrists were buckled into the cuffs attached to the thickest strap on the harness, your arms bound behind you. “Very good, now on the bed… face down.”

Korg gently guided you down and you wiggled onto the mattress. Loki dismissed him curtly and the door closed, marking a stolid silence. You kept your face away from Loki and tested the resistance of the harness. Even if you could get free, you wouldn’t get far.

“What is the matter, darling?” he taunted as you heard the rustle of fabric.

“You know, trying not to wretch at the thought of you touching me,” you snipped.

“Oh, is that what you think your punishment is?” he mused and the air was cut with the bite of leather before it lashed across your ass, “you’ll be begging for my touch when I’m through.”

You held your breath as he laid another strike and another and your body jostled on the bed with each. You knotted your fingers and every muscle in your body was rigid. You felt the welts rising on your skin but you focused on the pain. It kept you from crying, from thinking. It kept the humiliation from drowning you.

Was it worth it? Could you live with the shame when it was over?”

He stopped as you panted shallowly. He snickered and you heard him moving around again. He tutted and the mattress dipped as he pushed your legs apart. He pulled on the strap along your cunt and slid a smooth, slightly curved object between it and your skin. He tightened the buckle at the back of the harness so that the silicon was snug to your clit.

He poked his finger along it and it began to vibrate. You sucked in your breath as your body responded to the pulsing. He retreated off the bed and you pushed your legs together. That only made the sensation more intense and you tugged desperately at the cuffs as you rolled onto your side.

“It said about twelve hours battery if kept on low,” he said, “just enough to keep you awake but not enough to do much else.”

You bared your teeth as your eyes threatened to roll back and growled. Your feet arched as you bent your legs slightly and tied to shift the vibrator. You crushed your hands as you wiggled onto your back and dug your heels into the mattress.

“I am patient, darling, you’ve helped in that,” he taunted, “but oh, it is worth the wait to see you squirm.”

“Oh, you prick, why don’t you just… get it… over with?” your breaths caught as the toy buzzed against you.

“Where is the fun in that?” he ran his hand down your thigh and you flinched, “and you kept me waiting long enough. You will know the same pain.”

“I fucking hate you,” you sneered as you rocked back and forth and pushed your head back into the bed.

“I know,” he said gleefully, “it makes it all the better.”

[aj28gaming]

How post-game SDR2 should've been like

BTW THIS SHIT IS RUSHED AND DEFINITELY NOT MY BEST WORK, JUST GO TO MY AO3 FOR SLIGHTLY BETTER WORKS

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJcooper28/works

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"I...almost got Junko to take over everyone's bodies and spread despair to the entire world."

He finally said it. He finally admitted it

After realizing everything, from how Nagito was right all along to how everyone else was and is far far worse than Nagito could ever be

And that includes Hajime, who just admitted to being the worst of everyone on this island.

Because he just now admitted to Nagito, his friend that he hated and abandoned throughout the killing game all because of a misunderstanding, that he almost caused the worst nightmare Nagito could ever dream of

Total, utter, despair. To the entire world

Again.

It took some time for Hajime to accept it, to accept, with the help of his multiple analytical talents of course, that he was probably the worst possible friend and person anyone can ask for.

Sure, Nagito was "weird," but boy was he right about almost anything.

His "hope" is truly the literal definition of hope.

As his "Ultimate literate" and "Ultimate English Major" would say,

hope /hōp/ 📷Learn to pronounce

noun 1. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. "he looked through her belongings in the hope of coming across some information" Similar: aspiration, desire, wish, expectation, ambition, aim, plan, dream, daydream, pipe dream, longing, yearning, craving, hankering 2. ARCHAIC a feeling of trust. "our private friendship, upon hope and affiance whereof, I presume to be your petitioner" verb want something to happen or be the case. "he's hoping for an offer of compensation"

Everything checks out

No wonder Nagito called Peko Fuyuhiko's hope. No wonder Nagito said that Teruteru's hope was to see his mom and save the culinary family legacy.

No wonder Nagito said Mikan murdered for despair, after all her beloved was Junko Enoshima, the ultimate despair herself.

It's crazy how right Nagito was all along, how much empathy and understanding he has had for every one of their classmates.

It's just that, sadly, no one understood how right he was all this time.

Not even Hajime himself.

He always thought Nagito couldn't be trusted, that he was always scheming something or up to no good. Trying to plan something to mess with their heads or trick them once again.

Once again...

Hajime would laugh. Because, now, he finally realized how wrong he was with that mindset.

And he only developed that mindset after the first trial.

And what did Nagito do during the first trial?

Everyone thought Nagito tried to kill Byakuya out of pure insanity but failed thanks to Teruteru killing him instead. That's why everyone started to change their perception of him.

And what made it worse was that "maniacal laugh" he did during the trial, it amplified everyone's fear and hatred of him even more.

But that couldn't be farther from the truth.

You see, and Hajime has just found this out thanks to his observations and ultimate talents, Nagito doesn't laugh out of joy or happiness. No, not at all.

In fact, he laughs when he gets surprised, not because he is having fun. And considering the situation he was in, from indirectly causing two murders to being ganged up on by everyone else because of being suspected as the culprit, who wouldn't go crazy and stressed at a predicament like that?

He wasn't enjoying any of that one bit, in fact, it was quite the opposite.

Thinking about it now, it's starting to become painfully clearer. Nagito wasn't at all enjoying the killing game, he was terrified. He hated it more than anyone else, it was his personal hell after all.

That's why he kept clinging to hope. After all, it's normal for a person to cling to a shining hope in a despairful situation. A beam of light, a tiny spec of happiness.

A good ending. That's what Nagito wanted.

No wonder he kept talking about hope, he was desperate for it, everyone was.

But god did they mistreat Nagito.

And back to what Nagito actually did during the first trial.

You see, he wasn't actually trying to get anyone killed.

He was trying to become the first victim himself

It may seem weird at first because that would mean kickstarting the killing game, but it makes sense the more you think about it.

The killing game would've started regardless, and the murders and trials after the first prove that.

And Nagito knew this, which added to the reasons he was paranoid during the start. It was his personal hell, after all, seeing death surround him and his classmates once more.

As if his luck cycle hasn't already tormented him enough...

And so, that's why Nagito did it. He knew that no matter what, someone would've killed someone

He just wanted it to be him and no one else. So no one else has to die like the victims of his horrid luck cycle.

Damn his selflessness...

And that includes his stunt during the 5th trial.

Who can blame a guy, who just found out he is stuck with a bunch of terrorists and remnants of despairs that terrorized the entire world for god knows how long, for wanting those very people dead?

Those very people, that tortured, murdered, manipulated, brainwashed, blackmailed, amputated their bodies, for the sake of despair.

Who wouldn't want them dead? Who wouldn't go crazy at that revelation?

No one. No one at all.

Not even Hajime. After all, he did go crazy after finding out that very same fact that Nagito found out.

So crazy that he almost did the complete opposite of what Nagito tried to do and nearly got everyone to get taken over by Junko and to spread despair again.

To torture, murder, manipulate, blackmail...

All that to happen again. All because Hajime didn't want to die.

So much that he was about to commit the biggest mistake in human history, causing everyone's greatest fears to come to life once again.

All because of his stupidity, his uselessness.

Maybe he really was just a useless reserve course student after all...

No wonder Nagito hated everyone, no wonder Nagito hated Hajime the most.

Who wouldn't?

Damn Hajime's selfishness...

Damn him for thinking about himself instead of everyone else.

Damn him for not being there for his first friend who was the most stressed and vulnerable throughout the killing game.

Damn him for his uselessness, his stupidity.

Damn him...

And so, that's why Hajime admitted it. Despite knowing that what he almost did would've caused Nagito's worst fears to come to life again.

Despite knowing that this would give Nagito even more reason to hate him and despise him for the rest of his life.

Despite knowing how much despair Nagito is already in after finding out he is still trapped with the very people he hates and fears the most

Despite all this, Hajime still pushed himself to be honest. Because he couldn't take it anymore.

After everything he and the others have done to Nagito, how they treated him like a psycho when in reality he hated the killing game more than all of them combined, which was the main reason he went crazy, Nagito deserved to know the truth.

To know how despairful and horrible Hajime really is.

And so he said it, and the boy's response from the inside of his cottage was to be expected of course.

"What?" he barely croaked out, of course too shocked to even understand what he just heard.

Despite his heart-wrenching guilt already clawing the back of his mind into the deep crevices of hell, where he truly belonged at this point, he still pushed on.

"I..."

"You could've caused despair!?" It was louder this time, the interrupting scold almost hurtful and loud enough to make Hajime want to cover his ears and walk away, to pretend like none of this was happening.

"I-"

"Do you...have any idea what you could have done!?" Nagito took a quick breath in the middle, he was hyperventilating.

Makes sense, after all, it's not every day that you get told by your supposed "friend" that he almost caused everyone's nightmares and despairs to come to life by a press of a button.

It's not every day that you find out that same "friend" of yours would've picked causing terrorism and mindless torture to spread throughout the entire world instead of suicide.

It's not every day that you find out this "friend" of yours, who you helped and cared about the most throughout the killing game, would've caused you the most despair and trauma that your luck has ever given you in your entire life.

It's not every day that the person you care about the most, is also the person that would hurt you the most.

And Hajime knew this. Boy did he know this.

Which explains the protruding and continuous sweat dripping so much that they began to sting his eyes, the aching chest covering a heart beating so fast that he wouldn't be surprised if he passed out on the spot.

But he couldn't, he had to push through.

After all, it's all his fault. And he had to take responsibility.

And Nagito definitely deserved to know everything.

But still, it didn't stop him from facing away slightly, like a kid scared of getting punished by their infuriated mom.

"You...you could've caused despair! No! Complete terrorism! Everyone and everything would've been in total chaos and despair all because of you! You...you monster! You absolute monster!"

Every word followed by a broken and betrayed sob. Despite him being "prepared," it didn't stop Hajime from wanting to cry in shame and kill himself to just end all of this already.

"You...I...Why? Why would you do this?" Nagito begged, almost on the verge of tears.

"W-well...it's not like I went along with it in the end!" Hajime "reasoned."

Then, he realized his mistake far too late. Of course, it didn't matter if he did it or not, what matters is the fact that he considered the idea. And that fact couldn't be more true for Nagito.

So Hajime tried to backtrack his mistake, realizing soon after that his destiny was sealed, "Nagito, I didn't mean-"

"Do none of them matter? Countless people, murdered, tortured, manipulated into despair for despair, all because of you. Do they seriously not matter? You think it's okay just because you 'didn't do it in the end?' Of course not, just the fact that you considered it is horrifying enough!"

"WELL WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE!?" Hajime snapped, realizing too late that due to his impulsiveness and anger, he asked the dumbest question anyone could ask.

"WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IF-"

"I WOULD'VE SACRIFICED MYSELF!" Nagito snapped back.

"I WOULD'VE SACRIFICE MY EVER USELESS, DESPICABLE SELF NO QUESTIONS ASKED IF IT MEANT PREVENTING THE WORLD FROM TOTAL DESPAIR! I WOULD'VE GLADLY LAID MY LIFE DOWN, BE TORTURED ENDLESSLY IF IT MEANT SAVING THE WORLD FROM TOTAL ANNILATION!"

Nagito was breathing heavily now, so heavily it's practically an asthma attack mixed with tears and hyperventilation. Hajime could almost hear him trying to keep himself stable while his mental state continues to worsen the process.

His saliva spitting out of his mouth from him trying to breathe properly and lashing out in anger, agony, and betrayal.

Nagito was in tears so much that he almost can't see anything because of the number of tears accumulated in his eye sockets. He hated this, he hated this so much. It hurts him so much.

And what hurts him the most is that despite all of this, he still can't stop loving Hajime, he can't stop having him deep inside his heart...

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(OKAY TO BE CONTINUED CUZ I NEED TO WORK ON OTHER SHIT BUT HERE IT IS IN CASE YOU GUYS WANNA READ ABOUT IT

I MIGHT CONTINUE OR FINISH THIS SOON)

[doeilovr]

Turn Back Time

-> Pairing: Lee Taeyong x femReader, special guest Kim Doyoung

-> Genre: Angst, Idol Taeyong au, Cheating au, break up au, a bit of smut (like 1 paragraph)

-> Warnings: cheating, cursing, suggestive themes, mention of sex, physical violence, self doubt

-> Summary: And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

-> Words: 2.6 k

Disclaimer: this is not how Lee Taeyong is at all! This is merely fiction! Cheating is also not okay, just be kind, people and love truthfully!

You knew something had changed, when you heard Taeyong walk into your shared bedroom.

He was out late again, working on choreography and writing lyrics at the studio.

A month ago he would have cuddled up to you in bed, pecking you on the cheek, before he would fall asleep with his arms wrapped around your body.

But he had stopped doing that and just got into bed as silently as possible, trying not to wake you up. You were awake though. Thinking about what had changed between you two.

In the morning you would get up before him, staring at him sleeping peacefully in your bed, regretting whatever you did wrong.

You were making breakfast for the both of you when Taeyong joined you in the kitchen, his blonde hair messy and his eyes sleepy.

“Good morning”, you smiled at him, tempted to stroke his hair. Taeyong’s cold expression brought you back to reality. “Morning”, he mumbled, grabbing an apple from the counter.

You wanted to tell him you made breakfast for him, but he was faster. “I’m going to the studio. It’ll be late, no need to wait for me”, he announced, not waiting for an answer and disappearing back into the bedroom.

Your stomach twisted, you just couldn’t understand what you did wrong. You weren’t even hungry anymore, putting the freshly cooked food in the fridge for another time.

You were determined to win Taeyong back, even if you didn’t know why you had lost him on the first place. Maybe he got tired of you because you never surprised him. Maybe he wanted you to be more spontaneous. With these thoughts in mind you bought coffee and made your way to the studio.

You entered the recording studio, knowing Taeyong was alone, as it was late already. He stood in the recording booth, practicing some random verses. He looked good, wearing a white tee and ripped black jeans. His blonde hair was messy, as he was constantly running his fingers through it.

To be honest, he just looked tired.

Your breath hitched in your throat, when he locked eyes with you. Taeyong put down the headphones and stepped out of the booth.

“What are you doing here?” He walked past you, pressing some buttons on the computer.

“I brought you coffee”, you smiled, placing the Americano down next to him. Taeyong side eyed you, noticing your black coat. You felt his hot gaze on your body, making your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, actually I’m not just here for that.” Carefully you pushed Taeyong down on the leather chair behind him. He let you guide him, intently watching your every move.

You placed a kiss to his soft lips, before you grabbed his hand, guiding it to open up your coat. It had been a while since you last kissed and you had missed him. The feeling of his lips against yours. Taeyong watched you with intense eyes, opening the coat to reveal a set of white lingerie.

You had bought it just for him and felt nervous to show yourself like this, since it had been a while you two last had sex. Or just any other intimate interaction.

You sat down on his lap, your eyes never leaving his face. Taeyong gulped visibly, before you placed another kiss on his lips, this time using your tongue. His hands roamed around your body and his member twitched beneath you. Fuck, he felt so good.

Your hand traveled down his chest, all the way to the button of his jeans. You stroked him through the fabric, making him inhale sharply. “I want you, Taeyong”, you whispered, a sudden desperation in your voice.

There was a flicker in Taeyong’s dark eyes, his hand moving to yours and grabbing it quickly. Just when you thought you got through to him, he removed your hand from his crotch, pushing you off his lap.

You stepped back, watching him with sad eyes. Did he really not love you anymore?

Taeyong got up, cursing under his breath. “Don’t fucking do that”, he mumbled, his eyes moving quickly.

“Taeyong-“, you tried to reach out to him, but he moved past you and got back into the recording booth. You felt so vulnerable, closing the jacket and hugging yourself.

Was that it? Was that how you broke up with him? Why couldn’t he just explain himself or at least talk to you? You wiped away a tear that threatend to run down your cheek and left the room.

In a quick pace you moved down the long corridor, making your way to the exit, while trying to calm down. On your way around a corner you bumped into someone’s chest.

“Y/n?” Doyoung smiled down at you. You greeted him quickly and hoped he wouldn’t notice your glistening eyes.

“Are you here for Taeyong?” You started shaking your head vigorously, trying to smile back at him, but you looked rather awkward.

“I’m on my way out, actually.” Doyoung’s smile faded a bit. He just knew you too well, sensing that there was something wrong.

“Everything alright?” He furrowed his brows. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just tired”, you waved your hand around. “I’ll get going now, see you around.” Doyoung nodded, waving goodbye to you and watching you walk away.

Something for sure wasn’t right. You didn’t look happy at all. And Doyoung wondered why?

Back home you cried yourself to sleep. You loved Taeyong too much, how could he so easily turn away from you? That night he didn’t come home at all.

You just got out of the shower the next evening, when Taeyong texted you. You hadn’t heard from him the whole day and felt beyond disappointed. He could have so easily talked to you, but he chose to ignore you. “I’m out with the boys”, the text read. You didn’t reply and went on with getting ready for bed.

You were lying awake for way too long now, taking a glance at the clock to see it was not even midnight yet. Your phone suddenly rang, it was Doyoung.

“Hey y/n”, he greeted.

“Doyoung.” You often talked over the phone like this, but it had become less and less after Taeyong distanced himself from you. You felt weird being around his friends without him, which was stupid to be honest, as they all seemed to like you a lot.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He gasped a little, probably just now realizing how late it was.

You chuckled. “No, don’t worry.” It felt good to talk to him again. “Are you also at the club?” You were curious. Honestly you just wanted to know if Taeyong had maybe talked to them about you. Who knows, maybe he was more talkative with them than with you.

“What do you mean? Who’s at the club”, he asked confused.

You chuckled nervously. “Taeyong told me he was out with you guys.”

Doyoung was quiet for a moment. “No. Taeyong did go out, but not with any of us. He went out with Jia, she’s collaborating with him, I don’t know.”

Your heart sank and you sat up in your bed, turning on the lamp. “What”, you mumbled. “Which club?”

“Pretty sure they went to Octagon. Is everything okay, y/n? You know you can tell me”, Doyoung reminded you softly.

You bit down on your lips, emotions washing over you. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going back to sleep now”, you lied. Doyoung didn’t ask any further questions and said his goodbye before hanging up.

You sighed, dropping the phone on the bed. Taeyong lied to you. He had lied. But why? Did he cheat on you? Was he cheating on you right now?

He was. In the past week, while you were waiting at home, doubting yourself and everything you ever did wrong, he was with Jia. So he was now. In the club, dancing and making out with her, trying to get you out of his head.

That’s how you found yourself standing in front of the club the same hour. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater. To your luck, Doyoung showed up too, knowing damn well something wasn’t right. He got you in the club and searched for Taeyong with you.

When you finally spotted him you didn’t feel shocked or mad. No. You were sad. Sad, disappointed and broken-hearted. You still loved this man after all, even if you saw him cheating right here and in front of your eyes.

“Y/n”, Doyoung mumbled, following your gaze to Taeyong. Despite the loud music you could hear him clearly. Doyoung couldn’t believe his eyes either. Taeyong was cheating with Jia. His best friend was cheating on his other best friend.

Fuck.

“You knew?” Doyoung stared at you wide eyed, feeling nothing but empathy.

You nodded, tears prickling in your eyes. Seeing him make out with her so easily made you feel sick. You never thought Taeyong was able to hurt you like this.

You always thought the best of him. He was so caring. You didn’t know where it went wrong, but suddenly he treated you like you were the worst person ever. He replaced you and seemed to not even feel bad about it.

Walking towards Taeyong your steps felt heavy. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer, he didn’t love you anymore. He hurt you and you wanted him to know that.

Stopping in front of him you waited until Taeyong caught your figure next to him, immediately staring at you with wide eyes. He almost pushed Jia back, startling her, before she also noticed you standing there.

Unlike him, she didn’t look fazed at all. You wondered if she even knew you were his girlfriend. You barely held back your tears and your voice was shaky.

“Whatever I did to you, I’m honestly sorry. I hope you’re fucking happy now.” You stopped for a second, taking in Taeyong’s face one more time, his shocked expression.

Quickly you disappeared in the crowd, making your way to the exit, Doyoung running behind you. As you got out of the club, the fresh air hit your face. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, as you slowly walked down the alley.

Doyoung came up next to you. “Are you okay”, he mumbled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t look okay. And he hated seeing you this broken.

Another voice called your name and you both turned around to find Taeyong angrily walking up to you. “Y/n”, he shouted.

He looked so angry and for what reason. Doyoung quickly stepped between the two of you. “Taeyong, fucking leave her alone”, he shouted, but Taeyong only pushed him to the side.

“You fucking knew”, he shouted at you and you stepped back, scared. “What sick game are you playing”, he added.

Now you got angry too, poking his chest with your index finger angrily. “I defended you all this time. I made up stupid excuses for you and your behavior, when you didn’t even have the guts to talk to me. This is so fucking low Taeyong, even for you”, you shouted back.

“Please, you’re obsessed with me. You even show up in the same fucking club, knowing I’m with someone else. You’re a pathetic bitch.” You saw the change of expression in his eyes as soon as he said the last words.

“Y/n-“ his face softened and he tried to reach out for you, but you quickly interrupted him, slapping him across his face.

Out of reflex, Taeyong shoved you to the ground and you landed on your butt. You gasped, finding yourself sitting on the cold asphalt. Taeyong realized what he just did and wanted to help you up, but Doyoung had already rushed to you side.

“Y/n are you okay?” Doyoung grabbed your hand. You couldn’t help but burst out in tears, letting Doyoung help you up. “Please take me home”, you whispered and he quickly nodded.

Taeyong watched you two walk away, Doyoung sending him a death glare as you both turned around.

He couldn’t believe how far he had went. He hated himself so much for hurting you. He had hurt you with cheating and now he had even hurt you physically. Taeyong never wanted this to happen either. He had been tired for a long time, stopped giving you attention and touching you. But you did the same.

When Jia came to the studio, flirting non stop, he just let her. He would mindlessly fuck her until you would give him attention again. But when the time came around and you did, he had grown tired of you, too.

He hated himself and he had projected it onto you until he hated you too.

You thanked Doyoung at the entrance to your apartment, watching him drive off with the taxi, before you entered the building. Unlocking the door, you walked inside, immediately aiming for the bedroom, just wanting to go to sleep.

You were shocked seeing Taeyong in your room, examining a picture of you two together. He turned around, looking at you. For the first time in weeks he looked as sad as you. As hurt as you.

“Y/n can we talk, please”, he asked gently, moving towards you.

“It’s too late, Taeyong.”

“I love you so much”, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“No, you don’t. If you love someone you don’t ignore them, or hurt them or cheat on them. You hate me Taeyong. And I don’t even know why”, your voice cracked before you could finish your sentence.

“No, y/n. I don’t hate you.” He stepped closer again, taking a hold of your hand. “I hated myself so much. I was so sick and tired of everything. I let it all out on you. And I’m honestly so sorry. I love you so much, please.”

You cried more, your heart hurting in your chest. His fingers stroked over the back of your hand, a feeling you had been longing for for such a long time.

“You cheated on me, Taeyong”, you whispered.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, to hold back tears. “I don’t have any feelings for her. Please, y/n. Believe me, please.”

“It hurts, Taeyong. I gave you my heart and you threw it away just like that.”

Taeyong’s other hand moved to cup your face, wiping away the tear that had left your eye. “I didn’t. My heart belongs to you, you’re the love of my life.” He paused, breath shaky. “I have no excuse. Cheating on you was wrong in so many ways. I started because I thought I would find my love for you again. But fuck, I realized it was never gone in the first place. I never want to hurt you again, y/n.”

You cried out one more time, before stepping forward and hugging Taeyong tightly. He immediately pulled you closer, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

“I love you so much”, he whispered over and over again.

After a while, you pulled away from him again, sniffling and wiping your tears away.

Taeyong was all you had and wanted, but his actions scarred you deeply. You looked up at him, pecking his lips softly. It was lovely moments like this you wanted to last forever.

And it was moments like this you wished you could turn back time, to make him stop hurting you. Taeyong was your world and all you ever wished for was to be his too.

But sometimes it’s not meant to be. You would find someone else, someone that would love and appreciate you, even if times were tough.

And maybe one day you’d be someone’s world. And maybe Taeyong would be someone else’s.

a/n: I rewrote this so many times lol I hope you enjoy it. It was my first attempt on smut so please bear with me. I’d also appreciate any feedback <3