#wide eyed in a really profound way

[theloveinc]

rachel zegler is undoubtedly both talented and beautiful but... imma be honest. i don't think she was the right lucy gray </3

[inuyashaluver]

can you do reader is very body conscious but lessi helps her? lyy

you’re beautiful - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your girlfriend wishes you could see yourself the way she does

warnings: self loathing, insecurity, tears, slightly angsty?

a/n: YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND DONT LET ANYONE TELL YOU DIFFERENT, MY LOVES, thank you for the request, love you, i hope this lived up to expectations because im getting in my head again 😭❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a love so pure, it was sickeningly sweet.

people may say that the term ‘soulmates’ is overused, but alessia russo was in fact your soulmate.

she was your better half, a true soul connection that is truly authentic and genuinely profound.

this girl had you wrapped around her finger and it was very much mirrored for you. the two of you would do anything for each other, without a second thought clouding your mind.

—

you and alessia met years ago in your youth, forming a close bond with the blonde unexpectedly.

alessia in her younger years was quite shy, finding it hard to put herself out there and make friends. whereas, you on the other hand, were outgoing, always the first person to approach when someone looked like they needed a friend.

and that’s what you did. when you and alessia joined the england youth football team, you watched as alessia, wide eyed and nerve ridden, clutched her training top in her hand, you’d been told to find a partner for warm ups.

and you, with your mischievous grin and kind eyes, walked over to alessia and nudged her with your shoulder. “i’m (y/n)” you whisper, alessia looks over at you in surprise, sending you a grateful smile, “i’m alessia” she whispers back.

“you have beautiful eyes, alessia” you grin, alessia cheeks fill with pink, looking down at the pitch with a little laugh before looking back up at you.

“you have a pretty smile” alessia breathes out, you smile brightly at her, offering her a piece of gum while you conversed, unbeknowingly becoming a part of your routine that lasted for years.

you and alessia navigated the ups and downs of childhood together, forming an unbreakable bond.

the more you talked and hung out, the more you realised how perfect you were for each other. and so, at 17, you and alessia started dating, you, as usual taking the lead that alessia was very grateful for.

“russo, i think it’s time we date” you say simply, causing alessia to choke on air while the two of you walked around the pitch. “what?” she mutters, her cheeks bright pink when you interlaced your fingers together.

“i really like you, lessi,” you say earnestly, giving her a charming smile that made her heart leap out of her chest.

“i really like you too” she breathes out, both of you now looking a little sheepish, giving little squeezes of your hands while you looked at each other.

that’s when alessia closed the gap and pulled you into a kiss, you gasp in surprise against her lips, your hand moving to cradle her cheek as you pulled her closer.

it was a little clumsy at first but you both quickly found a rhythm, feeling familiar yet foreign all at the same time.

alessia’s hand makes its way to your bicep, squeezing it gently and smiling against you. eventually when the two of you pulled apart, you both broke into little fits of giggles, resting your foreheads against each other as your breath intermingled with each other. the promise of forever lingering in the air.

everyone saw how genuine your connection was, you brought out alessia’s confidence, alessia brought out your calm side. a perfect balance working together in harmony. the amount of respect, love and admiration for each other never went unnoticed by the two of you.

—

you had always played at arsenal while alessia played at manchester united, ecstatic when she decided to transfer to be closer to you.

you’d always been a woso couple favourite, the amount of edits under both of your names were insane. it only grew as alessia transferred. but something that grew in small but visible amounts, was hate.

it was inevitable, you were both in the public eye and people could be truly awful when they wanted to be. you tried not to look at it but it was incredibly hard when it was directed at you.

alessia was perfect and you could say that with your chest, and everyone else thought that. so people loved to tell you that you weren’t good enough. you weren’t fit enough.

people claiming you were using the girl even though you both have incredibly successful, established careers that no one could deny.

but it didn’t matter, you were scrutinised by a very tiny amount of people but it had a large impact. you thought you would be used to it by now but these comments for some reason just stuck with you.

you stood in front of the mirror in your shared apartment, suddenly your daily training uniform feeling tight on your body.

no matter how you moved it, it didn’t feel right. your eyes welled with tears as your eyes took in your appearance. you felt awful. you shook it off, making your way to alessia who was currently preparing protein shakes for the car.

you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her middle as your chin rested on her shoulder. she was always a little taller but it didn’t matter.

“hey, babe” alessia grins, leaning back into you, “hi, lessi baby” you kiss her shoulder sweetly. she flipped around in your embrace, kissing your lips gently a couple of times, making you giggle against her. she relishes at the sound, pecking the tip of your nose before ushering you to the car.

she drove with her hand gently squeezing your thigh before you both arrived. you were feeling fine up until then, but as soon as the two of you got into training, you felt off, the comments flashing in your mind.

alessia noticed a change in your behaviour. your usual confident and vibrant self was seemingly preoccupied. you trained with her like normal, giggling and chatting but your smile never fully reached your eyes, alessia knew you better than anyone, she could see you declining.

“hey, you okay?” alessia grabs your hand when you enter the change room after training, pulling you close to her before you tried to walk away.

“yeah, baby, i’m good” you smile, kissing her sweetly, she melts into you, kissing you back with a satisfied hum before she pulled away from you.

“don’t distract me, missy” she chuckles, pinching your cheek teasingly before she wrapped her arms around you.

she pulls you close, tucking your head under her chin as she gently swayed you from side to side. you lean further into her, feeling a lump in your throat growing, desperately hoping you don’t look like you’re going to cry.

“can we go home, please?” you say softly, alessia frowns a little at that, “‘course we can,” kissing your head tenderly before dragging you to your cubby.

she sits you down, helping you into one of her hoodies before helping you change from your boots.

“russo spoils you, (y/l/n)” katie teases, “you don’t deserve this little angel” katie laughs, you knew she meant well but it sent a knife to your heart.

you throw her a pathetic smile, looking down as alessia shooed katie away, smiling up at you reassuringly, kissing your knee gently before moving up.

she quickly packs your stuff away, as well as her own and quickly changing, claiming you both could shower at home.

she essentially dragged you out of the room, opening the door for you to her car, doing your seatbelt for you and kissing you sweetly before she went to her own side.

you really didn’t deserve her.

the whole ride home, you stared out of the window, only really contributing to conversation when necessary. alessia was truly worried at this point, but not wanting to push you.

she cautiously grabbed your hand and interlaced them together, worried you’d pull away but you tightened your grip. she sent you a smile even though you weren’t looking at her, so instead she kissed the back of your hand. letting you know she was there, like always.

you both got inside and you trudged to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. alessia’s heart broke a little, you’d usually shower together in times like this, but you didn’t want anything to do with alessia she felt. so she left you alone..sort of.

she placed her ear on the door when she didn’t hear the shower start, instead hearing a heart wrenching sob escaping your throat. she couldn’t handle it anymore.

“baby, open the door, please” alessia pleaded, your sobs not relenting, “(y/n/n), come on, love” alessia tries again, hearing you cry and feeling her heart breaking. she started to panic until she heard the door unlock, not wasting any time and making her way inside.

“hey, hey, hey” she coos, bending down to your level when she sees you cry on the floor, you can’t help but cry seeing her, her own tears streaming down her face when she saw you.

“what’s wrong, love?” she asked softly, wiping your tears from your cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

you tried to open your mouth to speak but nothing came out, her hands made their way to the sides of your neck as she directed your eyes to hers.

“breathe, baby” her thumbs brush against the underside of your jaw, you try to mimick her breathing, little hiccups resulting from your sobs as you and alessia looked at each other tearfully.

she didn’t know why you were crying but all the pain you felt, she felt.

you both sat there for a second, just in silence with occasional sniffles feeling the room. alessia waited until you were ready, her patience unlimited when it comes to you.

“lessi” you choke out, “i’m here, i’m here, baby” alessia smiles sadly, moving to kiss your cheek gently, only making another teardrop from your duct.

“why, though? you shouldn’t be with me” you hiccup, her eyebrows furrow, looking at you confused, she tries to speak up but you cut her off, “alessia, you deserve so much better” you sniffle, alessia looks slightly furious.

“i don’t deserve better, i deserve you, you’re more than anything i deserve” she says sternly, “baby, what happened?” she tries again, “i hate my body, i hate the way i look, i hate that someone as perfect as you has to be seen with me” you sniff, alessia looks almost offended, her hands dropping from your face to grab your hands, both of you sitting on the floor.

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” she starts, “my baby, your beauty is out of this world” she says adoringly, “you’re absolutely gorgeous, you’re so kind, you’re so strong, you’re perfect” she smiles, moving one of her hand up to cradle your cheek again. “who put this stupid idea in you head?” alessia tucks a stray peice of hair behind your ear,

“online” you admit quietly, alessia had enough at that, she lifts you up off the floor, your legs wrapping around her waist as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you down with a sweet kiss to your forehead, standing behind you in front of the mirror. you shy your gaze away, looking down at the floor, unable to look at yourself.

“look up, my love” she whispers, kissing your temple as her hands held your hips. you exhale deeply before looking in the mirror, making eye contact with alessia through the mirror.

“i love your legs, they’re so strong, they’ve walked through challenges, through accomplishments. they let you walk to me, they let you run, they’re perfect” she whispers in your ear, a frown was still evident on your face so alessia continued.

“your waist, your hips, i love holding it whenever i can, i love feeling you breathing, knowing you’re with me,” she smiles, kissing your cheek, a little hint of a smile playing at your lips that had her brightening.

“next your arms, also very strong” she winks at you, making you huff out a little laugh, “whenever your arms are around me, i feel so safe, i love when you squeeze me when you get excited, they also have your hands attached and we know why i love your hands” she teases, you laugh at that, throwing your head back with a smile when she chuckles, placing a little kiss on your neck,

“i love your neck, i love your shoulders, i love your pretty face, your gorgeous eyes that light up when you get excited, and your smile” she breathes out,

“you know how much i love your smile, it brightens up the whole room, my beautiful, beautiful girl” she says a little tearfully. you turn around and just look up at her, “i love you” she says softly, that’s when you pull her into a bone crushing hug.

“i love you, i love you so much” you sniff, kissing her cheek repeatedly before burying your face into the base of her neck.

she hugs you tightly, relieved that you felt better, “don’t listen to any of the idiots online, baby” she says into your hair, her hands rubbing comforting circles over your (her) hoodie.

you nod into her skin, letting her drag you to the shower where she really showed you some appreciation about just how beautiful you are.

—

you’d finally woken up to yourself through the help of alessia, you’re absolutely gorgeous no matter what anyone says. it was a relief for everyone when you and alessia came to game day as loved up as ever.

as soon as alessia got out of the car, you latched onto her back, making the girl laugh brightly as she walked with you bumping into her every two seconds, attempting to keep your bodies close together.

“baby, i can’t walk” she laughs, “fine,” you huff, hopping onto her back, her hands instantly catch under your thighs as she smiles brightly when she feels you peck her cheek repeatedly as she walked you both into the emirates.

“lovebirds” leah teases, you wink at her and nod, making the older girl send you a playful grin as alessia continued to carry you into the change rooms.

you and alessia play exceptionally well, assisting her in a goal that had the crowd roaring. you bound over to her with a bright grin as she held her arms open to you, lifting you up triumphantly, feeling more proud about you rather than the goal.

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you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!! ily tooney

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alessia: the most perfect human being alive

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yourname: yeah, you

↳ alessia: we’ve been through this, little one

↳ yourname: oh please, you aren’t much taller

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh, you’re so cute

↳ yourname: what the fuck

↳ alessia: so so so cute

[roseyly]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 - 𝙻𝙷𝚂

Pairing: Older!Heeseung x Younger!reader genre: angst, stangers to friends to lovers to stangers again. Warnings: Smut, angst, hee being an asshole Synopsis: Y/N, an 18-year-old university student, was immersed in her studies until she met Heeseung, a confident 26-year-old. Their friendship quickly deepened, and Y/N found herself captivated by his kindness and charm. At first, the age difference didn’t matter, as their connection felt effortless. But over time, Heeseung grew more distant, and Y/N began to feel the weight of their age gap. She cherished their memories but wondered if their lives were too different to bridge. Could they rekindle their connection, or was it time to accept that their paths might lead them in separate directions? Note: This was inspired by All too well by Taylor swift.

—The start we tell

I was 18 when I first met Heeseung. He was 26, a graduate student at the prestigious university in our city. I was a freshman, wide-eyed and full of dreams. Our paths crossed at the library, a place I frequented to escape the noise and chaos of campus life. He was engrossed in a book, his face etched with concentration. I was drawn to him, his quiet intensity, the way he seemed so lost in his own world.

“May I sit here?” I asked, pointing to the empty seat next to him.

He looked up, his eyes widening slightly. “Sure,” he replied, his voice soft.

We started talking, and it was like we’d known each other forever. He was intelligent, witty, and kind. He had a way of making me feel seen and understood. Our conversations were endless, spanning from philosophy to pop culture. I was captivated by his mind, his passion for life.

“You’re really smart,” I told him one day after we had been discussing a particularly complex topic.

He smiled. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself."

One chilly afternoon, the library was quieter than usual. Heeseung suggested we grab some coffee from the campus café. As we walked side by side, the brisk air wrapped around us, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way he brushed his hair from his forehead, the spark in his eyes—it made my heart race.

“Do you think people are more interesting in books or in real life?” he asked as we settled into a corner of the café with our steaming mugs.

“Real life, definitely,” I replied, leaning forward. “Books are great, but nothing beats the unpredictability of a real conversation.”

Heeseung chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “You make a compelling argument.”

As we talked and laughed, I noticed the way his gaze lingered on me, a softness that made my heart flutter.

One evening, as we were leaving the library, a light drizzle began to fall. Heeseung instinctively held out his arm, offering me his jacket.

“Here, take this,” he said, wrapping it around my shoulders.

The fabric smelled like him—warm and comforting. I could feel his body heat radiating from it, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

“Thanks,” I murmured, glancing up at him.

He was looking at me, his expression a mix of concern and admiration. “I didn’t want you to get cold.”

Our eyes locked, and I felt a rush of warmth spread through me. It was then that I realized—I was falling for him.

One night, we found ourselves studying together in my dorm room. The stress of exams hung heavy in the air, but as we sat on the floor surrounded by books, something shifted between us. I leaned back against the wall, letting out a sigh.

“Why do you put so much pressure on yourself?” Heeseung asked, concern lacing his voice.

“I just want to do well,” I replied, trying to hide my insecurities.

He shifted closer, our shoulders brushing against each other. “You’re already doing great. Just remember to take care of yourself too.”

His words, simple yet profound, pierced through my worries. I turned to look at him, and in that moment, I saw a depth of understanding and care that made my heart swell.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” I whispered, feeling vulnerable.

He met my gaze, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might lean in and kiss me. The tension hung in the air, palpable and intoxicating. But instead, he smiled softly, and we returned to our studies, the moment lingering between us like an unfinished thought.

—The Confession

A few weeks later, we were watching the sunset from the rooftop of my dorm. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, and as I leaned against the railing, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Heeseung stood next to me, his presence grounding.

“I wish I could capture this moment,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to me, his expression serious. “You know, some moments are meant to be felt, not captured.”

I glanced at him, my heart racing. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean… some moments define us. Like this one. I’ve been feeling something for a while now, and I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “I think I’m falling for you.”

I felt a rush of emotion—a mix of disbelief and exhilaration. “Heeseung, I—”

Before I could finish, he continued, “I know there’s an age difference, and I know we started as friends, but you’ve become so important to me. I can’t help how I feel.”

His honesty swept over me like a tidal wave, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I feel the same way.”

A smile broke across his face, and in that moment, everything fell into place.

—One Night at His Apartment

One evening, we sat by the fireplace in Heeseung's cozy apartment, the atmosphere thick with unspoken feelings. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on our faces. We were laughing, recounting the first night we had spent together, our early days when everything felt so pure and full of possibility.

“Do you ever feel like there's something more between us?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, seeking reassurance that the love I thought we shared was still there.

Heeseung hesitated. His heart seemed to pound in the tense silence, but he finally responded, “I do. I think I've been feeling it for a while now.”

Relief washed over me, and we spent the rest of the night together, locked in a moment that felt perfect. We danced in the kitchen, the refrigerator light blinking rhythmically, casting a soft, hypnotic glow over the room. The music wasn’t playing, but we moved as if it was—slow, deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world.

*“There we are again in the middle of the night, we’re dancing ‘round the kitchen in the refrigerator light…”*

His hands were warm as they gently held mine, pulling me closer to him. The way he looked at me, with so much tenderness, made me feel as though nothing else mattered. He kissed me softly, and I kissed him back, our movements becoming more intense as desire built between us.

“I’m ready, Heeseung. I want you too.”

He leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, lingering kiss. I responded eagerly, my hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us growing as our kiss deepened.

His hands were warm as they gently held mine, pulling me closer to him. The way he looked at me, with so much tenderness, made me feel as though nothing else mattered. He kissed me softly, and I kissed him back, our movements becoming more intense as desire built between us. "I'm ready, Heeseung. I want you too," I whispered, my breath hitching as I spoke.

He leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, lingering kiss. I responded eagerly, my hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us growing as our kiss deepened.

Suddenly, Heeseung pulled away, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Y/N, I don't want to rush this. I want to take my time and make sure you're comfortable."

I nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. "I trust you, Heeseung. I know you'll take care of me."

Heeseung began to kiss my neck, making his way down to my breasts. He took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing me to moan with pleasure. His hand continued to stroke my other breast, and I could feel my arousal building. He leaned in again, his lips finding mine once more. This time, his kiss was more urgent, more demanding. I moaned, feeling his tongue slip between my lips as he explored my mouth.

As we kissed, Heeseung's hands began to wander, caressing my body through my clothes.

Heeseung's hand moved down between my legs, and he began to stroke my clit. I was already so wet, and I could feel myself getting close.

"I want to taste you, Y/N," Heeseung said, his voice low and husky.

He pulled off my pants and my panties and spread my legs wide. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste me. I moaned, my hips bucking up as he began to lick and suck my clit.

Heeseung's fingers slipped inside me, and he began to fuck me with them. It felt incredible, and I could feel my orgasm building.

"Heeseung, I want to taste you too," I said, my voice breathless.

“Fuck baby, you don’t have too” Heeseung said, groaning.

I sat up, pushing him down onto the bed. I pulled down his pants, freeing his hard cock. I leaned down, and said “I want to” taking him into my mouth. I could taste his precum, and it only made me want him more.

I sucked and stroked his cock, feeling him grow harder in my mouth. He moaned, his hands tangling in my hair as I bobbed my head up and down.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his hips bucking up.

I pulled back, stroking his cock with my hand. I could feel him getting close to the edge. He groaned, his hips bucking up as he came and got a tissue. “You can spit it out here baby,” he said. I swallowed it, swallowing every drop of his cum. and let my tongue out to let him see it. “Holy sh*t, baby, you swallowed it? ”He said. I nodded and said, “I wanted to taste you.” "Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he said, groaning. Heeseung's hand moved lower, down to my pussy again. He slipped his fingers inside, groaning as he felt how wet I was.

"You're so ready for me, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with awe.

I nodded, biting my lip as he began to stroke my clit. It felt amazing.

"Heeseung, please," I begged, feeling my orgasm building. 

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Y/N?" he asked, his voice strained with desire.

"Yes, please, Heeseung. I want you inside me."

He didn't need any more encouragement. Heeseung pulled out a condom and put it on,

He pushed inside, filling me up completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to thrust."Are you ready, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt him position himself at my entrance. He pushed inside, slowly and gently. I moaned as I felt him fill me up, my hips bucking up to meet his. It felt incredible, better than anything I had ever imagined. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

"Harder, Heeseung," I begged, my voice hoarse with desire. His movements were slow and deliberate. He looked into my eyes, and I could see the desire burning in his gaze.

He began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster and harder. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

"You feel amazing, Y/N," Heeseung gasped, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

I moaned, my nails digging into his back as I felt my orgasm building.

"Heeseung, I'm going to cum," I gasped, my body tensing up.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I screamed his name, my body shaking with pleasure.

Heeseung followed me over the edge, his cock twitching inside me as he came. We collapsed together, panting.

"I love you, Y/N," Heeseung whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I love you too, Heeseung," I replied, smiling up at him. Heeseung rolled over onto his back, pulling me with him. I straddled him, feeling his hard cock brush against my wet folds. I moaned, rocking my hips back and forth.

"Ride me, Y/N," Heeseung commanded, his voice low and husky.

I did, sliding down onto his cock. I moaned as I felt him fill me up, my hips moving back and forth as I rode him.

Heeseung reached up, cupping my breasts in his hands. He teased my nipples, causing me to moan with pleasure.

"Play with yourself, Y/N," Heeseung commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I did, reaching down to stroke my clit. It felt incredible, and I could feel myself getting close to another orgasm.

"Heeseung, I'm going to cum," I gasped, my body tensing up.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I screamed his name, my body shaking with pleasure.

Heeseung followed me over the edge, his cock twitching inside me as he came. We collapsed together, panting.

"I love you, Y/N," Heeseung whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I love you too, Heeseung," I replied, smiling up at him.

We lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the fire crackling softly in the background. It was perfect, and I knew that I had found my forever home in Heeseung's arms.

And that night, it felt like we belonged to each other. His touch was gentle but firm, undressing me slowly, savoring each moment. We made love under the dim light of the room, his breath warm against my skin. For those hours, we were everything—wrapped up in each other, free from the world outside.

—The Night I Left My Scarf

It was a chilly evening when I last visited Heeseung’s apartment. We had spent the day wrapped up in each other, laughing and talking, lost in the comfort of our routine. As night fell, the golden light from the setting sun faded, and the warmth of the moment enveloped us.

We had just finished dinner, and Heeseung was washing the dishes while I sat on the counter, swinging my legs playfully. I remember feeling so content, so in love. After a long conversation about our dreams, I slipped off my scarf, a soft, knitted piece that I had worn since the beginning of winter. The scarf had been my comfort on cold days, a piece of home I carried with me.

As the evening wore on, we settled onto the couch, our bodies intertwined. The warmth of his presence made me forget about the world outside. In the midst of our laughter and whispers, I completely forgot to grab my scarf when it was time to leave.

It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I realized it was still there, left behind in his cozy, inviting space. I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of longing and fear. I knew I could easily turn back, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the lingering warmth of our night together or perhaps the instinct that I had to let go of little pieces of the past.

—Us

The days following that night were filled with intimate moments that felt like they were straight out of a dream. There was one afternoon we spent at his apartment. We had just returned from a long walk along the river. The apartment was bathed in golden light from the setting sun. We fell onto the couch together, laughing, as Heeseung’s hand rested on my leg, slowly tracing circles on my skin.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, whispering, "You’re so beautiful."

His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I turned toward him, our faces only inches apart. Our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss that deepened as he pulled me onto his lap. His hands roamed my back, pulling me closer, and my fingers tangled in his hair as we melted into each other.

We spent the next hour wrapped up in that kiss, stealing breaths between soft murmurs and light touches. His lips moved from my mouth to my jaw, down my neck, each kiss more intoxicating than the last. My heart raced, my skin heating up under his touch. It felt like time stopped when we were together like that, lost in each other, the world outside completely forgotten.

There was a night when we snuck out of a party, not wanting to be around anyone else. We wandered through the quiet streets of the city, hand in hand, until we found a small park, lit only by the soft glow of the moon. We sat on a bench, our bodies close, and I could feel the heat radiating from him.

Heeseung pulled me in, his lips finding mine in the cool night air. The kiss was deep, full of longing, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. My hands ran through his hair, tugging gently as his grip on my waist tightened, pulling me closer. His lips moved down my neck, his breath hot against my skin, sending waves of electricity through my body. We were completely lost in each other, every touch, every kiss igniting the passion between us.

"I love you," he whispered between kisses, his voice husky and filled with desire.

"I love you too," I breathed, barely able to speak as his lips found mine again.

We stayed in that park for hours, kissing under the stars, our bodies entwined, not caring if anyone saw us. It felt like we were the only two people in the world, and in those moments, nothing else mattered.

—But Things Began to Change

One Friday evening, Heeseung invited me to join him and his friends for a game night at his apartment. I was excited at the prospect of spending time with him and hoped it would be a chance to connect with the people in his life. However, as soon as I arrived, I felt a wave of unease wash over me.

Sunghoon was sprawled on the couch, laughing heartily at a joke Jay had just made. Jake was pacing the room, animatedly explaining a recent gaming achievement, while Lia and Luna sat at the dining table, engrossed in a strategy card game. They exchanged inside jokes and laughter that echoed in the room, but I felt like an outsider, standing on the fringes of their world.

Heeseung noticed me lingering by the door, a soft smile on his face. "Hey! Come join us," he called, gesturing for me to sit next to him. I moved toward the couch, but as I settled in, I felt the conversation shift away from me. They began discussing their plans for the weekend, and I found myself struggling to insert myself into the dialogue.

"What about you, Y/N? Any plans?" Sunghoon asked, but the way he said it felt like an afterthought. I felt my cheeks heat up as I glanced at Heeseung, who was laughing at something Jake had just said, his attention fully absorbed in his friends.

"Um, I was thinking of going to that new café," I replied, hoping to spark some interest. The moment hung in the air, and I sensed their eyes drift back to the game.

"Nice! But we have to go back to that escape room we tried last month! It was hilarious when Jay got locked in the closet," Lia chimed in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The group erupted in laughter, and I felt my heart sink. I had missed out on that escape room experience entirely, and now it seemed like an exclusive club that I wasn't a part of.

As the night wore on, the games became more competitive, and I tried to engage with everyone, but it felt like I was chasing shadows. Whenever I attempted to contribute, my words seemed to disappear into the air, overshadowed by the laughter and banter that flowed effortlessly between them. The moments of joy that I had anticipated turned into a stark reminder of my isolation.

"Do you want to play the next round with us?" Luna asked, breaking through my thoughts. I nodded eagerly, hoping this would finally allow me to feel included. But as I joined the game, I realized I was still a step behind. Their jokes flew over my head, and soon I found myself lost in the game’s complexity, while they easily adapted, their camaraderie a stark contrast to my solitude.

After a while, I retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of grabbing a drink. I poured myself some water and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to breathe. I wanted to be part of Heeseung's world, to feel connected to the people who were important to him. But instead, I felt like a shadow, lingering on the outskirts of a vibrant party that I had not been invited to.

When I returned to the living room, Heeseung looked up, his eyes softening when he saw me. "You okay?" he asked, genuine concern etched across his face.

I forced a smile, the ache of loneliness twisting in my chest. "Yeah, just needed a moment," I replied, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in my voice.

But I could tell he was still absorbed in his friends, laughing and joking as if I were invisible. In that moment, I realized just how much I craved his attention and how desperately I needed him to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between us.

Over time, things shifted. The age gap between us started to show more clearly. Heeseung's friends were older, more experienced in life, and their conversations revolved around topics I couldn’t relate to. I was always the youngest in the room, often feeling like I was trying to keep up with conversations that left me feeling out of place.

One evening, we attended a gathering at Jay’s apartment. The atmosphere buzzed with laughter and playful banter as Sunghoon recounted a funny story from their college days. I sat on the couch, feeling like a spectator in a world that didn’t quite include me. Lia and Luna were engrossed in a debate about the latest art exhibit in town, while Jake chimed in with his own opinions. I tried to contribute, mentioning a piece I had seen online, but the conversation quickly shifted back to their shared memories and experiences. I could see it in their eyes—their bond was deep and established, while I was still trying to find my footing.

Heeseung was caught up in the moment, laughing and joking with his friends. I felt a pang of loneliness as I looked around. Their shared laughter rang in my ears, and I couldn't help but feel like an outsider looking in. It stung even more when Sunghoon playfully teased me about my age, and the others joined in with lighthearted jabs.

“Come on, Y/N, you wouldn’t even remember when we first met!” Sunghoon joked, and everyone erupted in laughter. I forced a smile, but inside, I felt smaller with each passing moment.

The more I observed, the more apparent it became how effortlessly they connected. Inside jokes, playful nudges, and the kind of laughter that seemed to echo with memories I wasn’t part of—it all became overwhelming. I tried to push down the ache in my chest, convincing myself it was just a matter of time. But every attempt to break through felt like pushing against a brick wall.

Later that night, as we walked home hand in hand, I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up any longer. “Heeseung,” I began hesitantly, “I feel like I don’t belong here. Their conversations are so different from mine. I don’t know what to say.”

Heeseung barely looked up from his phone. “I know it’s tough,” he said nonchalantly. “But just be patient. You’ll get used to it.”

It stung—how easily he brushed off my feelings. I tried to ignore the growing sense of loneliness, convincing myself that I had Heeseung, that it was enough. But it wasn’t. I needed him to make an effort to bring me into his world.

"I need you to spend more time with me and my friends," I told him one night, my voice wavering slightly. "I always feel like the odd one out when we’re with yours."

Heeseung hesitated, his brow furrowing. "I don’t want to compromise my friendships," he replied, frustration creeping into his voice. "But I’ll try."

His promise felt hollow, like a band-aid on a wound that needed stitches. I wanted to believe him, but instead, the arguments started. He would say I was too sensitive, that I overreacted. It felt like a pattern—whenever I expressed how I felt, he found a way to turn it back on me, making me doubt myself. Each conversation felt like a step backward, the emotional distance between us growing wider.

The next few weeks were a blur of misunderstandings and silence. I would watch Heeseung interact with his friends, their laughter ringing out like music I couldn’t hear. I longed for him to reach out to me, to acknowledge the invisible line that had formed between us. But instead, I often found myself alone, retreating to my thoughts, wondering if I had somehow lost the connection we once shared.

One evening, sitting on my bed, I scrolled through my phone, watching clips of them having fun together. It felt like a cruel reminder of the joy I was missing. The weight of my feelings crashed down on me, and I found myself questioning everything. Was I not enough? Did I not fit into his world? The more I pondered, the more tears slipped down my cheeks.

*“Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much, but maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up…”*

—The Breaking Point

One night, after yet another argument, we were driving in his car, the air thick with tension. I sat in the passenger seat, my chest tightening as the city lights blurred past the window. I was on the verge of tears, my voice shaky as I tried to make sense of what had gone wrong.

"Why are you being like this?" I asked, frustration and hurt bubbling over. "You’ve changed."

Heeseung kept his eyes on the road, barely glancing at me. His silence was deafening, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, he sighed, exasperated. "It’s not that I’ve changed, Y/N. It’s that you’re always making things difficult. Why can’t you just let things go?"

His words cut deep, making me feel like I was the problem—like my feelings were too much, too complicated for him to handle. I turned away, staring out the window, the reflection of the passing streetlights blurring with my tears. "I’m not trying to make things difficult. I just want us to be okay."

He scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "Maybe you just don’t get it. You’re just a kid, Y/N. You have to learn that life isn’t all about your feelings."

The sting of his words hit me like a slap, igniting a fire of anger within me. "You don’t get to belittle me like that! I’ve tried everything to understand you! I gave my virginity to you—something that meant the world to me!" My voice cracked as the floodgates opened, tears spilling down my cheeks. "How can you say I'm just a kid when I’ve given you so much?"

Heeseung finally turned to look at me, but his expression was cold, a mix of annoyance and impatience. "And I appreciate that, but maybe you need to understand that relationships aren’t always about grand gestures. Sometimes, you just need to chill and accept things as they are."

I shook my head, disbelief and hurt swelling in my chest. "You think this is me not accepting things? I’ve been fighting for us! I’m trying to understand you, but you keep pushing me away!"

He let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head as if I were being unreasonable. "You’re making it sound like it’s all my fault. What do you want me to do, Y/N? Hold your hand through every little emotion? You need to grow up!"

His words twisted the knife deeper, and I could feel the anger and sadness colliding within me, threatening to consume me. "You don’t even see me anymore, do you? You only see what you want to see! I’m not asking you to fix everything, but I need you to acknowledge my feelings, not dismiss them."

"Maybe if you didn’t make such a big deal out of everything, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!" he shot back, his voice rising. "You’re the one who turns small things into drama, and I’m tired of it."

The tears continued to stream down my face, a mix of anger and heartache choking my throat. "You’re so wrapped up in your own world that you can’t even see how lonely I feel! I thought we were in this together, but now I feel like I’m just a burden to you!"

Silence filled the car, heavy and suffocating. I wiped my eyes, the reality of what was happening crashing down on me. "Is this really how you feel? That I’m just some kid making everything difficult?" 

Heeseung glanced at me briefly, his expression softening for a split second before hardening again. "I’m just being honest, Y/N. You need to toughen up. Life is harder than you think, and I can’t keep holding your hand through every little emotional meltdown."

In that moment, the warmth I once felt around him faded away, replaced by an icy realization that we were standing on different ground. "You think I’m fragile, that I can’t handle anything? I’ve tried to be strong for you, to make this work, but I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not!" 

Heeseung turned his gaze back to the road, his expression stony. “Maybe you need to figure out what you really want. Because right now, it feels like all you want is to stir up drama.”

After that night, things only got worse. We began to drift further apart, the connection we once had fading with every cold word, every dismissive look. One evening, after a particularly heated argument, Heeseung turned to me with an expression I hadn’t seen before—one that spoke volumes.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's not you. It's me."

It was the cliché that shattered me. I had given everything to this relationship, only to be told that it wasn’t enough. The weight of his words felt like a punch to my gut, and I struggled to breathe. Heeseung walked away, leaving me alone in a silence that felt deafening. I sat there, feeling utterly lost, like I was left to pick up the pieces of a heart that felt irreparably broken.

—Is this the end? 

The door slammed behind me, the sound echoing through the emptiness of my apartment. My chest felt tight, as if the weight of the entire world was pressing down on me. I stood in the middle of my room, surrounded by the remnants of what had once been us—his jacket still draped over the chair, the books we shared stacked haphazardly on the floor, and the pictures of us smiling that felt like they belonged to someone else.

I felt like I was suffocating.

I dropped onto the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was breaking into pieces I couldn’t pick up, no matter how hard I tried. The tears came in waves, uncontrollable and relentless. I pressed my forehead against my knees, the sobs racking my body as if I was trying to cry out all the love I still had for him.

*Why wasn’t I enough?*

The question replayed in my mind like a broken record. I thought I had given him everything. I thought we were building something beautiful, but now it all felt like a lie. The apartment was cold without him, and every memory, every small thing we did together, haunted me.

I pushed myself up from the floor and stumbled toward my desk, where the typewriter sat. I stared at the blank page that mocked me, waiting for words I couldn’t find. My hands trembled as I placed them on the keys. But instead of flowing like they usually did, the words felt stuck, trapped inside me. I hit the keys with frustration, punching out broken, jagged sentences.

*"Why did you leave me like this? What did I do wrong?"* I typed angrily, the clack of the keys echoing in the room.

I couldn’t get the words right. I couldn’t capture the hurt or the betrayal that twisted inside me like a knife. Tears splattered the paper, blurring the ink. My breath hitched as I furiously wiped at my face, trying to fight against the pain that consumed me.

I felt broken. Completely, utterly broken.

Months had passed since Heeseung walked out of my life, but the hollow feeling remained. No matter how hard I tried to move on, he was still everywhere. His ghost lingered in every corner of my apartment, in every thought that crossed my mind. I couldn’t escape him.

The jacket still hung over the chair, untouched. The smell of his cologne faintly clung to the fabric, as if refusing to let me forget. His books remained stacked on the floor, mocking me with memories of late-night conversations and shared dreams. And the photos… they were the worst. Frozen moments of us laughing, smiling—so happy—hung on the wall, like a cruel reminder of what once was, of what I thought we had.

I thought time would heal me. I thought the ache in my chest would eventually fade, that I would wake up one day and not think about him. But I was wrong. Every day felt like I was fighting a losing battle against the memories.

I still remembered how I gave him everything—how I gave him myself. The night I trusted him with my innocence, believing that he would treasure it, that he would treasure me. I had been so vulnerable, so open, and I thought it meant something to him. But now, looking back, it felt like I had given away the most fragile parts of myself to someone who didn’t even care.

And it hurt. 

God, it hurt so much.

I would find myself staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night, the quiet suffocating. I would replay that night in my mind, over and over again—the way he held me, the soft words he whispered, how safe I felt in his arms. It all felt like a cruel joke now. How could something so intimate, something that meant so much to me, turn into a painful reminder of everything I had lost?

I felt useless. Completely, utterly useless.

I had poured every part of myself into him, and now there was nothing left. The girl who once believed in love, who believed in him, was gone. In her place was someone hollow, someone who couldn’t find her way back to herself.

I tried to distract myself, throwing myself into work, into hobbies, into anything that would keep my mind off him. But nothing worked. He was always there, lurking in the back of my mind, in the smallest details of my day. The sound of his laugh, the feel of his touch, the promises he had made—all of it haunted me.

Even when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. I had become someone who was defined by the absence of him, by the hole he had left behind. It felt like I had lost not just him, but parts of myself I could never get back.

I wondered if he ever thought about me, if he even remembered the things we shared. But deep down, I knew it didn’t matter. He had moved on, while I was still here, stuck in the wreckage of what we had been.

—Remembering  (Heeseung's POV)

I couldn’t sleep.

Even though weeks had passed since we ended things, her face still haunted my thoughts. The way her eyes shimmered with innocence when we first met, how her laugh sounded like music, how her touch always sent warmth through me—it was all I could think about. I messed it up. I had hurt her more than I ever intended, but the truth was, I didn’t know how to fix it.

As I lay in my bed, the room dark and quiet, I found myself replaying our memories, one by one. I could still see her sitting by the window, her face lit up by the soft glow of the afternoon sun, her fingers tracing shapes on the glass. She always looked so peaceful in moments like that.

God, I miss her.

I reached for my phone, scrolling through the photos we had taken together, my heart sinking as I stopped on one from the river walk. She was smiling, the wind in her hair, looking at me like I was the only person who mattered. How did I let that slip away?

I had been selfish. I pushed her away when she needed me the most, convinced myself that I was too busy, too caught up in my own life. But the truth was, I was scared. Scared of how deeply she loved me. Scared of what that meant for me, and scared that I wouldn’t be able to give her the same in return.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair as the guilt gnawed at me. She had given me everything—her trust, her heart, her innocence. And I had thrown it away.

She was too good for me. I thought to myself, the weight of my mistakes pressing down on my chest. I hadn’t been fair to her. I hadn’t been patient. Instead of guiding her into my world, I left her out in the cold, letting her feel like an outsider.

I thought back to the night we argued in the car, her tear-streaked face looking out the window, her voice breaking as she said, “I gave you everything, and you still don't see me.”

The pain in her voice still echoed in my ears.

And now? Now she was gone. I wondered if she would ever forgive me. I doubted it, not after everything I had put her through. I missed her love, her laughter, and her innocence—the way she used to look at me like I was her whole world. I wanted that back, but I knew it was too late.

I didn’t deserve her.

—Years Later

The air in the room buzzed with excitement. I sat at the signing table, a line of readers curving out the door, waiting to get their copies of my book signed. I never thought I’d reach this moment—a moment where I could share my story with the world, unafraid and stronger than I’d ever been.

I picked up the first book in the pile, running my fingers across the glossy cover. *"All Too Well: A Story of Remembering and Letting Go"*—the title that summed up everything I had been through, every lesson I had learned, every piece of myself I had gathered back together.

As readers approached, I smiled and thanked them, but my mind drifted back to the journey that brought me here. This book wasn’t just words on paper. It was pieces of my heart, carefully stitched together. It was a reflection of the love I gave, the pain I endured, and the person I became because of it.

The first chapter detailed the innocence I lost—not just physically, but emotionally. I wrote about how I had given myself so completely to someone who didn’t stay, someone who I thought would protect my heart but instead left me broken.

I gave everything to him. And for a long time, it felt like I lost myself in the process. But writing this book, putting all my pain and lessons into words, had been the most freeing thing I had ever done.

The line of readers thinned, and the crowd started to disperse. I stretched my hands, feeling the weight of the day start to fade. The final few approached the table, thanking me for sharing my story, and I smiled, genuinely grateful for their words. As I handed the last book back to its owner, I glanced up and froze.

Standing at the back of the room, framed by the window near the door, was a figure I never expected to see.

Heeseung.

My heart stalled for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. He was standing there, his eyes locked on me, but what caught my attention was the red scarf wrapped around his neck—the very one I had left at his house, the scarf that symbolized that I had given him a part of me.

Memories flooded back like a storm: the warmth of his hands, the laughter we shared, and the moment everything changed.

I could see his hesitation as he stood outside, watching me through the window. His eyes were filled with something I couldn’t quite read—regret, maybe? Longing? I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t certain if I wanted to know.

Should he come in? Should he stay outside? Was he waiting for me to acknowledge him, to invite him in, or maybe even to chase him one last time?

But I didn’t move.

The Y/N from years ago might have stood up, might have run to him, desperate for answers or closure. But I wasn’t her anymore. I had learned to stand on my own, to move forward without him, and to find strength in the parts of me that he had left behind.

For a brief moment, our eyes met through the glass. I didn’t know what he saw in my gaze, but I hoped he recognized that I wasn’t waiting for him anymore. I had found my peace.

As the last of the readers left the room, I began to pack up my things, the weight of the day slowly lifting. Just as I turned to put the last of the books away, I heard a soft voice behind me.

“Y/N?”

I spun around, and there he was—Heeseung, standing just a few feet away, the red scarf still wrapped around his neck, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.

“Sorry I didn’t come in earlier,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the moment. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.”

My heart raced, caught between the exhilaration of seeing him and the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm me. “I didn’t think you would come at all,” I replied, my voice steady despite the chaos inside.

He took a step closer, and I could see the uncertainty etched on his face. “I had to. I needed to hear what you had to say. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. I searched his eyes, looking for the answers to questions I hadn’t yet dared to ask.

“I’m okay,” I said finally, breaking the silence. “I’ve found my peace.”

He nodded, the weight of my words sinking in. “I can see that. I— I just wanted to say I’m sorry for everything.”

I held his gaze, feeling the past echo between us. “You don’t need to apologize,” I replied, my voice firm. “We’ve both grown, and this book—this journey I’ve taken—it’s helped me heal.”

A flicker of relief washed over his face, but there was something more there—a longing, perhaps. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the silence stretched between us, I felt the years of hurt and healing collide. I wasn’t the same girl who had chased after him, but seeing him here, so close, stirred emotions I thought I had tucked away.

“I’ve missed you too,” I finally confessed, the truth spilling out before I could stop it. “But I can’t go back. I’ve moved forward.”

He nodded slowly, the understanding hanging heavy in the air. “I know. I wouldn’t want to take away what you’ve built for yourself.”

With a deep breath, I stepped back, feeling the weight of the moment settle between us. “Maybe we can both find a way to move on. We can carry our memories without letting them define us.”

Heeseung smiled, a bittersweet expression that mirrored my own feelings. “I’d like that.”

In a gentle gesture, he took off the red scarf in his neck, holding it out to me. “I think you should have this back. It’s yours.”

As the scarf dangled between us, I felt a whirlwind of emotions. A part of me wanted to let him keep it, to let him hold onto a piece of our past. But another side of me surged with a desire to reclaim my innocence—this scarf was a symbol of everything I had lost, but it was also a reminder of how far I had come.

It had been my warmth, my comfort, my naivety. I had spent so long trying to fit into his world, trying to be enough for him, that I had forgotten to be enough for myself. 

And now, standing here as an independent woman who had found her voice and her strength, I knew that I needed to take it back. I needed to own my past and carry it forward, not as a burden but as a badge of resilience.

Taking a step forward, I accepted the scarf from him, my fingers brushing against his. “Thank you,” I said, my voice steady. “For everything.”

Heeseung nodded, his eyes softening as he watched me wrap the scarf around my neck. The act felt powerful, almost ceremonial. I was reclaiming my innocence, my past, but more importantly, I was affirming my journey toward independence.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. 

“You too,” I replied, feeling the weight of closure settle between us. We both knew it was time to move on, to honor the memories while embracing the future.

As he turned to leave, I felt a sense of finality. He was walking away, but this time it didn’t hurt. I had transformed my pain into something beautiful. 

And as I watched him walk away, I realized that I had already found the closure I needed. I had turned my pain into something beautiful, something lasting. Heeseung no longer had the power to define my story. I had written my own ending, and it was far more powerful than anything he could ever give me.

“And you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest…”

Later that night, as I sat by the window of my hotel room, the city lights twinkling outside, I thought about the years that had passed. The love I had felt for Heeseung had been real, but so had the pain. I had been so young, so willing to give all of myself to him without realizing that he wasn’t willing to give me the same in return.

It had taken me years to understand that love wasn’t supposed to be one-sided. I had spent so long trying to fit into his world, trying to be enough for him, that I had forgotten to be enough for myself.

But now, I was different. I had grown. I had found my voice, not just as a writer, but as a person. I no longer needed Heeseung or anyone else to validate my worth. I had written my pain into the pages of All Too Well, and in doing so, I had healed.

As I looked at the scarf draped over the back of the chair, I smiled softly. It was no longer a symbol of heartbreak or loss. It was a reminder of how far I had come, of the strength I had found in myself. I had loved deeply, and I had lost. But in the end, I had gained something far more precious—myself.

The next morning, I wrapped the scarf around my neck and stepped out into the city, the cool breeze brushing against my face. I felt lighter, freer than I had in years. The past was behind me, and the future stretched out ahead, full of possibility.

“And I remember it all too well…"

But now, it was just a memory—a beautiful, painful, bittersweet memory that no longer had the power to hurt me. I had written my own ending, and it was exactly the way it was meant to be.

Masterlist

[moominsuki]

bakugou is definitely someone who can’t love or be truly intimate someone until he’s known them for an uncomfortable amount of time. that’s why he’s the perfect candidate for falling in love with a childhood friend or a longtime colleague.

don’t get it twisted - he has probably been with a few women here and there (flings and such) but it’s not even in his character to sleep with women a.k.a the pump and dump. he thinks it’s degrading and he doesn’t particularly enjoy being with women he doesn’t have a strong connection to. the man just has urges.

he falls in love so randomly too - if it’s a childhood friend, it’s someone he always wanted/liked to a certain degree, he was just too pussy to say anything and life happens and they finally get to reignite that spark like nothing happened and this one is an adorable one because you’ve both known each other for a while and you’ve seen him through his awkward, angsty 5’7 bakugou stage and you adored him just as much as you did then and now - it helps he’s gorgeous and also a sweetie pie.

if it’s a colleague/coworker, then it happens when he’s slightly older and it’s someone who he’s had a thing for but, like aforementioned, bakugou hates to ruin a good thing and has a huge fear of rejection - even though you always fill up the coffee in the break room how he likes it, even though you let him pick you up to and from work, even though you literally kissed his cheek at a party. he chalks it up to you being tipsy and you eventually have to grab his face and just kiss him and it goes from there.

either way, bakugou actually takes his time with you - the road to intimacy is a bit slower because of how much he really likes you but you do end up doing the do (yay) and bakugou actually gets super overwhelmed during intimate sex with someone he really wants. it’s a very carnal desire that burns in him and it swallows him up whole.

it’s been a heavy day at work - bakugou feels a bit shitty and you offer a nice bath to loosen you both up. he obliges even though he doesn’t normally do baths because it’s you, duh.

you get in and so does he and it’s quiet - a few words of “you good, baby?” and “lemme wash your hair,” here and there. you’re not doing anything particularly profound but like aforementioned, intimacy makes bakugou’s dick chub up like crazy. you can feel it pressing into your butt and it’s endgame.

he takes you in missionary in his bed and you’re looking up at him, all wide eyed and glassy and a little drunk on him. bakugou prides himself in being an attentive and long lasting lover but when you wrap your legs around his lower back, your hands press into his shoulders and a few unshed tears in your eyes and pull his face down to kiss you with a ghost “i love you so much” resting on your lips does bakugou practically reel into you: red face in your neck and a guttural moan of your name and profanities slurred into one new word.

bakugou knows he’s entirely whipped: he can’t believe he’s ever slept with women casually when being intimate could feel like this, like a piece of your soul being pulled out by a succubus. only this succubus loves him and laughs at his jokes and cleans at his wounds and when she laughs, he feels like the world is a good place again.

when he reluctantly pulls back to see your face, he’s met with a smile that reaches your eyes and he falls in love with you all over again.

not before folding you in half to apologise for the early arrival.

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Character Popularity Poll Short Story ☽ Shuu ver.

Original title: 人気投票ショートストーリー、シュウ編 English translation by @otomehonyaku Requested by @aoi-hitomi-50 (happy early birthday to you and Shuu!) Original text can be found here.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SUMMARY | In this short story, Yui (not mentioned by name) has been with Shuu for a while—a bittersweet feat, since the vampire is not very vocal about his feelings. One morning, Yui accidentally drops her spoon at Shuu's feet while she's having her belated dinner. Spicy events ensue, and Yui cannot help but beg for answers. Will Shuu finally tell her how he truly feels towards her?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

—Just like that, I became your captive. Even though I could no longer go back, I…

In the small hours of the morning, I was belatedly having dinner by myself when Shuu appeared next to me out of thin air.

“Shuu? It’s unusual for you to still be up this early…” I was so surprised that the hand that was carrying my spoon to my mouth unconsciously paused in mid-air, still laden with soup..

“Yeah, well…” Shuu said curtly while he sat down across from me. 

Was I only imagining it, or did he seem in really good spirits today? I thought I even heard him humming.

“...Um?”

“What?”

“Did something… happen?” I asked him gingerly.

Shuu rested his elbows on the table, still humming, and stared at me intently with a gloomy look on his face.

“Uh…?”

“...Shut up. This is Mahler’s Symphony No. 4 in G major, fourth movement. Look up the title yourself.”

I inclined my head in confusion at his profound answer. My knowledge about classical music was, unfortunately, limited. My mind drifted to the hymns we used to sing in church, and when I moved my spoon again, Shuu suddenly spoke.

“Hey… didn’t you say that I’m the one you love most in this world?

“What?!” I accidentally dropped my spoon because of his off-kilter remark. The shrill sound of the metal hitting the floor reverberated through the dining room. 

“Guess I was right,” Shuu said coolly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He eyed me curiously as I tried to regain my composure.

“W-why, all of a sudden…”

I clumsily stood up to retrieve the spoon from under the table. When I lifted the tablecloth, I saw that it had rolled over to Shuu’s feet. It was actually quite convenient that I dropped the spoon—it gave me a way out of the conversation so that I didn’t have to see eye-to-eye with Shuu.

“Ah, there it…”

Just as I slid under the table to pick up the spoon, I heard Shuu’s voice from above me. “What are you doing?”

“Huh? Um, well… I just wanted to grab the spoon…” I said, flustered. I reached for the spoon, and then, suddenly—

“Ah?!”

“Hahaha…”

Of all the things he could have done, Shuu brought down his foot on my hand. I looked up at him with a start. Our eyes met—he held up the tablecloth on his end and leered down at me kneeling before his legs, which were spread wide.

“We’re not done talking yet. Who said you could pick it up?”

“It h-hurts…”

“Of course. That’s because I’m making it hurt.”

I’d thought he was in a good mood at first, but I was at a loss at his behaviour now. I bit my lip. 

“If you want me to let go of your hand, come closer,” Shuu continued.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m telling you to come closer… and put your face between my legs.”

“...B-but…” I would die of embarrassment if I were to position my body between Shuu’s legs. Just when I wanted to tell him that, he pressed down on my hand harder.

“Are you saying you’re disobeying me… because you actually like it when I hurt you like this? I guess it’s only to be expected from a hardcore pervert like you.”

“That’s… not…!”

“Not true? Well, how about you hurry up and do as I say, then?”

I’d lost count of how many times I’d yielded to his will when he cornered me like this. It was frustrating, but… I knew it was pointless to go against him. No matter how much I protested, he always made sure he got his way in the end. 

“Ah…”

Feeling defeated, I did as I was told and braced my hands on Shuu’s thighs so I could poke out my head from under the tablecloth. Then, I stuck my face between his legs, careful so as to not bump my head. 

“Hahaha… You look awful.”

“You’re the one who told me to do it…!”

“Well, that’s true, but aren’t you the one who actually decided to follow my orders?” Shuu ventured, his lips curving upward in a suggestive smile. “You’re a stubborn little thing, you know. You’re so in love with me you just can’t help yourself. At least, that’s what I heard… I figured you like this kind of stuff.”

“Who told you…” My voice wavered unintentionally, my heartbeat out of control.

“You’re so red. Bullseye. It’s obviously true, so  it doesn’t even matter where I heard it. Now, come closer.”

Shuu’s unusual talkativeness and assertive behaviour overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t help but obey him. No matter the things he did to me, no matter the cruel words he said to me… I was madly in love with him, just like he said. 

It was not a matter of not being able to go against him. I just…  wouldn’t.

“Come, hurry up… I’d rather you be grateful that I’m giving you this much attention…”

“Ah…”

“That’s it. Come closer. Actually, how about you sit on my lap?”

As if he’d seen right through me, Shuu’s voice was suddenly sickly-sweet, his gaze unrelenting in his efforts to persuade me. Despite my slight hesitation, I was internally overjoyed to hear this side of him. I simply did as I was told.

Our bodies were flush. I wriggled against him to get out of the tight space. It was incredibly embarrassing, but in the end, I managed to lower myself into Shuu’s lap. I braced my hands on his shoulders, facing him directly.

“Hehe… Look at you. I knew you could do it. Complain all you want, but I know you actually love doing naughty things like this.”

“Oh…”

“You aren’t really in the position to say otherwise, you know. Well… I’ll make you do much naughtier things. You love me more than anyone else in the world, right? I like the sound of that. As your reward… I’ll let you kiss me.”

“What…?”

“I’m too tired… so kiss me already. Come here…” 

Shuu narrowed his eyes at me impatiently. 

“Mm… ah, this isn’t bad after all. Your scent… the taste of you… Mmh…”

He had me completely at his mercy. Shuu’s lips found mine over and over again, deepening the kiss, from various angles… From an outsider’s perspective, it must have looked like we were sharing an intimate moment, but I was simply unable to resist his seduction. No, rather… this was…

I actually wanted this.

“Shuu…”

“What?”

“...Does this make you happy? Or… am I just a bother?” I asked him outright in between kisses. I’d been wondering about it for a while now. 

Shuu brusquely lifted me off of his lap and sat me down on top of the table. “You’re putting words in my mouth now? Shut up.”

“I… I figured you’d say that…” 

Maybe, in my heart, I wanted to hear such a predictable answer. Was it because I actually liked his harsh manner of speaking? My thoughts were still racing, but Shuu started stroking my hair and placed kisses on my ears.

“It’s not worth worrying about whether or not I like you… that’s not what I’m interested in. However… if anything, I’m interested in your blood. I crave you… do you understand what I’m saying? You can draw your own conclusions.”

Shuu’s sadistic voice sent incessant chills down my spine. That was all I needed to hear.

“Shuu, I love you…” The words just tumbled over my lips before I could catch myself. 

Shuu chuckled. “Heh… I know. You’re such a lewd woman. I know what you want… and you think I’ll give it to you, don’t you? I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll humour you until you’re satisfied.”

I could feel Shuu open his mouth wide. I waited for his fangs to pierce my skin with bated breath. The sharp tips of his canine teeth slowly hovered over my skin. He seemed to be holding back at first, but his demeanour quickly changed—in a flash, his fangs were buried in my neck.

“Mh…”

To this day, I still didn’t know how to describe this feeling. It hurt, of course, but at the same time, there was no way to put into words the absolute assault on my senses, the numbness that spread through me.

“Ha… Mmh… What a great expression… Agh…”

“Ah…” I came dangerously close to crying out while he drank from me. I desperately pressed my lips together. 

Shuu let out a low laugh. Surely, he thought I was only writhing in agony, but I didn’t mind—that wasn’t exactly wrong, either. 

“You’re greedy for such a meek girl, but… this is a reward, so… I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Mmh…”

A reward… the fact that he used such a word for it was proof that Shuu knew exactly how he was making me feel, and enjoyed it. It made my heart swell with joy. It had probably been a bit tactless to beg him to confess his feelings outright. I was already more than happy that, slowly, piece by piece, he revealed himself to me. 

“Let’s go over here now...”

Shuu’s hands impatiently groped at my chest. A feeling of endearment surged within me at the sight of him behaving like this.

I was completely head over heels for this man. I was far beyond saving, but at least I had some self-awareness. 

My mind wandered as my fingers became entwined in Shuu’s hair, my hands stroking his head. I wanted to shout my love for him from the rooftops, but an indirect approach was more befitting of this musically inclined man. 

Then, suddenly, Shuu lifted his face from where it had been buried in my chest, and told me flat-out, “I love you. Or, rather, I love you, the girl who is completely smitten with me. Got that?”

“Ah…!”

Now I really felt like I would go mad. Unable to contain my happiness, I instinctively covered my face with my hands. My cheeks were red-hot. Shuu saying the words I’d wanted to hear for so long was, without a doubt, the best reward. 

It seemed that, somehow, this languid, young nobleman of the shadows had laid his claim on both my body and soul. There was no going back anymore. And yet…

—I found myself smiling, thinking that might not be so bad after all.

[lovebugism]

Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

[sfehvn]

sacrifices

Request: "if requests are still open (if not pls ignore) i’ve been obsessed with the idea of astarion being confronted with what tav becomes if he ascends. i picture the gang with raphael, astarion is determined to undergo the ritual, and raphael snaps his fingers to morph their strong leader into a frail, broken version of themselves. afraid of him. can he live with what his decision does to the person he loves, does that knowledge change his mind? could be something completely different tho, i’d love to hear your take on it!" A/N: I took some creative liberties because I'm still mid-Act 3, but I hope it's up to par nonetheless. I also think I totally misinterpreted the prompt now that I'm re-reading it after finishing this. I'm kinda not very brainy. (sparkle sparkle) I hope you enjoy anyways! lol Word count: 2,426 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  It was as if every fibre of your being had been desecrated from its vessel within an instance. You suddenly felt the scrutiny of every eye in the room upon you; you felt naked. The strength that had bumbled in every nerve of your body had been silenced. The gravity of the situation you were in towered on slouched shoulders and you gasped at the overwhelming perception. Every position you’d been in since aboard the nautiloid ship assaulted your mind. You hadn’t died, yet the trauma that you could have knocked the air from your lungs. A veil had been lifted from your desensitized mind. You weren’t even through the thick of it, the squirming parasite behind your eye being a palpable reminder. You stared wide-eyed at the group before you, taking note of the uneasy way Shadowheart looked from you to Astarion. You tried to choke out something, anything, but instead, a terrified whimper left your lips.

  The imbalance of authority was instantly discernable. Formerly the most capable of them all reduced to a powerless husk. Astarion stares at you warily, stepping closer only for you to cower backward, all but tripping over your own feet. “Please.” You pleaded against your better judgment. You were attentive to the knowledge he would never hurt you, but there was something profound in your brain telling you to run. He was a predator and you his prey. Perhaps the security of knowing you could always defend yourself if it came down to that was always there. Without the power, without those means, you indeed were afraid.

  Realization washes over Astarion’s face as he looks at you. The tension in the room was so impenetrable that Shadowheart spoke up hesitantly. “Give her some space.” No matter how sympathetic her words are, when she touches Astarion’s arm to give him a gentle tug back, he rips his extremity from her grasp. “Astarion.” She says firmly, looking at you with sad eyes. It was unspoken; if this was what you were to be, you’d never make it.

  “Fix her, devil.” He sneers, disregarding Shadowheart to the best of his ability. Raphael chortles, a playful glint in his eye. This was all a game to him.

  “So sad, wouldn’t you agree?” Raphael muses apathetically, moving to fiddle with the ends of your hair. Your body tenses and you want to run, but you’re frozen in place by fear. “At the end of the day, we are ultimately what our bodies perceive us to be. As for Tav, it would seem she’s not the leader you lot took her for after all. A travesty really.” His eyes lock on Astarion, a giddy smile on his face at the vampire’s anger. It oozed off of him, feeding Raphael sadistic joy.

  “You will not touch her Raphael-” Before he knew what had happened, he was laid out across the floor by a flick of the devil’s hand. Despite the aching in his bones, he pushes himself back up onto his feet, ready to pounce once again. Raphael already has his hand raised, ready to knock Astarion back once again.

  This time it’s Karlach’s hand that grabs him, holding him firmly in place. “Astarion, this won’t solve anything.”

  “By the hells it won’t! So that’s it? You want to abandon her here? After all she’s done for all of us? You ungrateful bastards! She’s stuck her neck out for each one of us and you turn on her just like that? Pathetic.” Astarions spits, his body shaking from the rage bubbling within himself.

  “Of course not! We love her just as much as you, but charging nonsensically at a devil whom we cannot touch over and over again won’t fix it.” Karlach exclaims and, perhaps because it was the most emotionally driven of the group to speak up, Astarion’s body loosens in defeat. Karlach withdraws her hand cautiously.

  “As much entertainment as I’m getting from watching this debacle, I believe we’re done here for now. I trust you’ll discuss this with your little wizard friend and let him know the crown is mine and I expect to receive it as soon as it is in your possession. Upon payment, I’ll restore our precious Tav’s previous state of being. I’m glad we’re all on the same page.” Raphael sends the group off with a snap of his fingers. The spinning surroundings bring you to your knees and you squeeze your eyes shut in a failed attempt to block out the sensation. Once you open your eyes, the group is back in the rented room of Elfsong. 

  A combination of the intense whirring, of everyone’s eyes on you, of your power being ripped from your body; you wretch. Your body heaves as the nausea finally subsides, Astarion is by your side, rubbing circles over your back and holding your hair loosely in his hand. Karlach has already fetched a fresh bucket of water and a stack of rags to clean the mess. Halsin, Jaheira, Wyll, Lae’Zel, and Gale look on in confusion, and you note Shadowheart gathering them together. Her voice was whispered and you couldn’t make out what was being said, but you didn’t have to be a scholar to know she was filling them in on the events that had transpired. Even Mizora was amongst them as if she was one of the same.

  The sight makes you want to wretch again but you hold back, gently pushing Astarion’s hands away from you. Your heart aches at the hurt look on his face but you just couldn’t. The power imbalance was too significant for you to handle in the moment; around any of your comrades, to be fair. However, there was something about Astarion that terrified you now. You knew it was senseless, but it couldn't be helped. “I need to be alone right now.” You manage from your raw throat. You did need to be alone; as alone as you possibly could be in the large room with nine other occupants.

  Karlach was one of the only people you allowed to stay with you as you lay in a daze on your bed. She was toweling a damp cloth over your forehead, chattering as usual. You recognized she was trying to act normal as if you hadn’t just had everything you’d ever known mangled from your very essence. You appreciated it. It was a far cry from the remainder of the party, now not bothering to hide what they were discussing as they tried to formulate next steps in the center of the room. You’d wished they wouldn’t, as selfish as it was. Though it seemed you were of some semblance of sound mind because you refrained from asking them to shut it down. They had to go on; with or without you. Astarion watched on in disgust from a corner of the room.

  Seeing you like this was destroying him, eating at his soul. He felt a fierce desire to protect you in this state, to keep you safe, yet you wouldn’t even let him near you. You were the only person who hadn’t treated him like something disposable in almost two centuries of existence. He feared that was gone. Would things get better? He yearned to hold you, to tell you everything would be okay. He hadn’t seen fear in someone’s eyes even comparable to yours since he was still a mindless slave to Cazador. Knowing that you felt that way about him struck him viscerally. He felt greedy for thinking it, but even if you didn’t become the fearless Tav you once were, he’d hoped you would eventually gain that trust with him again. Whatever the outcome, he would do what needed to be done to protect you.

  “I’m sorry but suggesting we just hand over Karsus Crown to a literal devil is insane! Have you lost your senses?” Gale shouted with conviction, throwing his hands up wildly.

  “Gale. What choice do we have? Tav has been a friend and she’d do the same for any one of us. We know what must be done.” Halsin reasons calmly in an attempt to ease the distressed wizard.

  “Well, I would bloody hope not!” Gale snaps in astonishment. “This is ludicrous!”

  Mizora pipes up and there is an air of amusement in her statement, “The bumbling one is correct. Raphael promises peace to the Nine Hells, but it is only a matter of time before he takes on other conquests. If you’d prefer the hells turn over; by all means.”

  “Come on! The lot of you have forced me into agreeance with a fiend.” Gale mutters.

  “A battle he will surely lose. Circumstantially, there’s no way the crown is powerful enough to intercept our plane.” Shadowheart reasons. 

  “Shadowheart, I have a great amount of respect for you, my friend. But you’ve no idea what you're talking about.” Gale holds a hand up dramatically in her direction.

  “She has a point.” Wyll finally offers his own input. “If our plane of existence could be overturned with the simple possession of this crown, it would have been done already, wouldn’t it? And if Raphael only wants to restore order in the hells, why not?”

  “All it would take is the correct entity. Just because something has not been done, does not mean it will never be done.” Gale sighs and there is a brief bought of silence before he continues. “Listen, Tav means just as much to me. It would pain me not to have her fight alongside us again, but-”

“Careful Gale of Waterdeep.” Astarion jeers as he approaches the group. “It would be a pity if someone had to put you in your place, but I can’t say I wouldn’t enjoy it. At this point, I’d think it a service to the rest of us.” 

  “Gale is right.” You declare. The group had been so engaged in conversation that they had failed to notice your approach. “I admire the lengths you guys would go to restore my power and I cherish each and every last one of you.” You shoot a small smile of reassurance at Gale, indicating that you indeed meant him too. “That being said, I recognize the need for boundaries. If this is the end of my road, well, I take pride in knowing I had the opportunity to assist our victors to the finish line.” You attempt a laugh, but it just sounds sad. You clear your throat. “Raphael cannot come into possession of this crown. I hope you all can respect my wishes.”

  Astarion wants to shake you, to tell you how foolish you were being. Had you really lost all of your senses when Raphael had stripped you of your power? “You will die, Tav. Do you not understand that? Without the means to protect yourself, you will die!” His shouting caused you to flinch and he instantly regretted it. The group sat in a paralyzed silence as they watched you two, not daring to interrupt Astarion in this state. “I will not lose the first thing I’ve loved in over two hundred years.” Tears threatened his ruby-red eyes, and he fought them back, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable he’d made himself amongst the party.

  “I know, Star.” You finally choke out after a lull of silence. You look away from him quickly and Karlach ushers you back to your bed. Astarion looks around the group with narrowed eyes as they disband to make their way to their collective beds. Why wasn’t anyone arguing this? How could they be so comfortable sentencing you to your death?

  Astarion stared up at the ceiling of the inn that night, unable to slip into his meditative state. Instead, he tried to grasp at the idea of you simply not existing—the months you had spent together that had felt like the entirety of his life left to mean nothing. It was tragic, just like the rest of his life. Of course someone like him couldn’t have a simple, happy ending. Why wouldn’t the very thing that kept him going be destined for death?

  His eyes open at the sound of approaching footsteps and your distinctive scent welcomingly floods his senses. He looks over to see you approaching his bed timidly as if you were uncertain about the action. “I don't,” you paused, fumbling with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t think I can sleep without you, Star.” You two hadn’t spent a night in separate beds since he had confessed his true feelings for you. The admission made his heart swell with hope and he shifts wordlessly, making room for you on the small bed beside him. He holds open the blanket for you, and you climb in. 

  He hears your heart slowing to a calm pace. The emotions were too overwhelming for you to comprehend. You had a newfound fear of the vampire, but your body craved his. Not just sexually, but it longed to be near him. It was as if it needed him to function properly. Astarion felt it too. It was like a missing piece of himself had returned to him, even if this moment was fleeting; he would hold you for as long as you let him, and he would wait for you to return when you were ready.

  There was one thing he was sure of. If you met your demise, so would Astarion. The time of only seeking power and authority was over for him. If he could, he would lay in this bed with you until you both withered to nothing. He did not want to outlive you in any sense of the word. He made a silent vow always to protect and keep you alive along with him. It was implicitly clear what he would be doing. The ascension had to be done, if only so you could live to see this through. The power and glory not even a last thought in his decision. He’d do this for you—the many conversations the two of you shared about the ritual flitted through his mind. You’d always been so careful of his wants while expressing apprehension about him going through with it. You’d convinced him, too. He was set that it was not what he wanted. He had been blinded by the splendor of it all. Things were different now. You would no longer be able to keep yourself alive; but he could.

“I love you, Tav.” He whispers.

“I love you, too, Star. More than air.” You murmured into his chest.

[nyctoaerah]

Can u please post the other parts of Wish Granted?:( i can't open the links for some reasons and it says that I don't have the access to read it or something. I'm really hooked, but I'm sorry for bothering

-❤️‍🩹

WISH GRANTED: CH 2 & 3.

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: In which, Eyeless jacks develops an infatuation with a grade A detective and ends up granting her wishes in the most twisted way.

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Gore, Mutilation, Mentions of Torture, Jack Being creepy.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆PREV

⋆♱⋆NOTE: Hey pookie, idrk why it isn’t working for you because it’s working for me properly:( maybe you should restart your pc/phone? Or maybe it’s on your internet? I’ll try checking on the links later and revise them. But yeah, dw, it’s not a bother, i don’t mind it anyways. I’ll just post the other parts later<3.

Ps; Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

AS SOON AS THOSE words reached your ears, a chill crept down your spine causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand at attention. Your heart dropped into your stomach, the thundering rhythm filling your ears drowning out all other sound. The blood seemed to freeze in your veins as icicles of dread rapidly spreads throughout your limbs, numbing you from head to toe. Your breathing became shallow and you were wide-eyed and unblinking, your pupils dilating until only a thin ring of iris remained,

That certainly wasn’t a news that you wanted to hear.

your grip on the phone faltered and it slipped from your trembling hands, crashing heavily onto the ground as your breath hitched in your throat.

“Your boyfriend and best friend were found dead.”

Those words kept repeating in your mind, the weight of those words bore down on you, sending an icy shiver cascading down your spine. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, leaving you unable to discern what you truly felt. Your breath caught in your throat, threatening to suffocate you as dizziness washed over you, threatening to pull you into unconsciousness.

‘But i was just with them a few hours ago...’

It hurts so much, it felt like your heart strings are about to break.

It was a tumultuous mix of fury, grief, betrayal, heartbreak, and a profound sense of self-pity that overwhelmed your senses. This day had already been marked by a series of unfortunate events, beginning with the painful revelation of your boyfriend’s infidelity and culminating in the relvelation that your closest confidant had been a traitor all along.

The news of their deaths hit like a tidal wave, crashing into the already shattered pieces of your heart.

You stumbled back, collapsing onto the closest piece of furniture that hadn’t been destroyed in your fit of rage. Your body shook with tremors, the weight of grief becoming almost too much to bear. Regret seeped into your veins, staining your conscience with a haunting question: Could you have prevented this?

As your mind raced, memories of your boyfriend and best friend flooded back. The joyous moments you had shared, the laughter, the support – all now overshadowed by the painful truth of their betrayal. How had you been so blind? Anger surged through you, sparked by the overwhelming hurt, as you cursed their names under your breath.

But amidst the anger, a profound sadness settled in, casting a bleak shadow over your soul. You mourned not only the loss of their lives but also the friendships and the love that was once so pure. The realization that you would never hear their voices again, never feel their warm embrace, tore through you like a serrated knife.

You needed to do something.

with trembling hands, you reluctantly reached for your phone, only to discover a crack on its screen. It must have happened when you dropped it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your throat was dry and your eyes were bloodshot due to how much you've cried.

Using your shaky fingers, you unlocked your phone and wiped the moisture off the screen with your hands. As you opened it, a flood of notifications greeted you, including messages from Earl, Jhenicca, and others. Slowly, you navigated to your contacts and dialed the headquarters. They answered promptly, causing you to release a shaky breath.

“What happened?” you inquired, your voice raspy from the lack of moist and use.

“Lieutenant, how are you holding up?” came the concerned voice on the other end of the line.

You let out a heavy sigh. Of course, you were far from okay. The pain of heartbreak still lingered, threatening to tear your emotions apart. But you were determined not to let your personal turmoil interfere with your duty. Despite their betrayals, your love for your boyfriend and best friend remained, and you couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a gruesome end.

“I’ll manage, don't worry about me,” you replied, trying to sound composed.

“Information please,”

You requested.

“We discovered Lieutenant Earl and Detective Jhenicca’s bodies near the Forest,” they informed you, their words hitting you like a blow.

“What do you mean at the forrest?”

you exclaimed, your voice tinged with shock as you processed the information.

“I was just with them at the station just a few hours ago, they would never go to a forrest.” you stated, your brows furrowing in confusion. The image of that encounter still haunted your mind, causing your voice to falter slightly.

“Jhenicca despises forests,” you muttered, your fingers tightly gripping your phone. The situation was becoming more puzzling by the minute.

“That’s the very mystery we’re trying to unravel, Lieutenant,” they explained. “That’s why headquarters is requesting your presence.”

You let out a snort.

Of course, they would want you there.

As one of the last people to see them, you were likely the prime suspect in their disappearance.

“Interrogation,” you stated, weariness evident in your voice.

“Yes, Lieutenant, they want to interrogate you,” they replied.

You couldn't help but release a heavy sigh, feeling drained.

 “I’ll make my way there later,” you mumbled, the exhaustion weighing on your words.

“How did they... die?”

You asked slowly.

“We believed that the cause of death is by blood loss.”

“They got mutilated, all of their fingers in both hands and feet was removed, and  they were skinned alive, moreover, their bodies were also covered in honey and other things and bees were swarming over them, and so does other bugs, that were probably eating them slowly.”

The image of their mutilated and dismembered corpses sent a shiver down your spine.

Torture.

“So they got tortured first before dying then...”

You mumbled, realizing that they got a painful death and it is indeed a murder.

“We believe so,”

You let out a sigh.

“Have their bodies been taken for autopsy?” you managed to ask, your fingers involuntarily curling up in distress.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” the voice on the other end confirmed.

“Forensics are currently examining the bodies at the morgue. We’ll let you know as soon as we have any updates.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It was essential to stay focused and maintain your composure despite the heart-wrenching news. These investigations required a clear mind, and your team relied on you for guidance.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Please keep me informed of any new findings.”

“We will,”

they assured you.

“And remember, you aren’t alone in this. We’re here for you, Lieutenant.”

You smiled a little, even though they couldn’t see you, Their support was essential, but there was still a part of you that felt isolated, grappling with the weight of your emotions. You had loved and trusted both Earl and Jhenicca, and their betrayal and death had shattered your world.

As you hung up the phone, you closed your eyes, trying to push away the painful memories and focus on the tasks ahead. The investigation couldn’t wait, and justice needed to be served.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, you felt a wave of tension wash over you, it felt as if someone is watching you right now.

Now that you weren’t bawling your eyes out and not having a breakdown anymore, you noticed this strangeness.

Your brows creased as you opened your eyes and scanned your surroundings, checking left and right for any signs of an intruder.

But there was no one in sight. It had been three long months since you first sensed the eerie feeling of being watched, but the demands of work and the constant presence of either Earl or Jhenicca by your side had distracted you from paying it much attention. However, now that you found yourself alone, the unsettling sensation began to gnaw at your thoughts.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your window slightly ajar. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you struggled to recall if you had ever opened it. Opening the window was not a regular occurrence for you; in fact, you rarely ever did.

“I don’t recall opening my window,” you muttered to yourself, as you stood up, wobbling a bit as you walked towards the window to investigate.

but before you could investigate further, a sharp pain shot through your foot. You looked down to find the cause, only to see an assortment of glass shards scattered across the floor—probably from the vases and other things you had threw on the ground. You must have accidentally stepped on the broken glass, and warm blood began to trickle from the wound.

This really is such a bad day.

Suppressing a curse, you quickly hobbled over to your bathroom to tend to the injury,  As you made your way towards the bathroom, an overpowering stench assaulted your senses. It was an amalgamation of metallic notes, mingled with a sickeningly familiar odor reminiscent of raw flesh, like the scent that lingers at a butcher shop. It was a scent you had encountered many times before, while investigating crime scenes. But the difference is, it wasn’t a crime scene. It was your own bathroom.

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you cautiously pushed open the door, the repulsive smell growing even stronger.

At first glance, everything appeared normal. But when your eyes traveled upwards, a blood-curdling scream escaped your lips.

Multiple human fingers were nailed and plastered in the walls like some sort of furniture, both fingers from the hands and toes, you can see the bones under them as blood dripped from them.

they were forming a word, three fingers were on a shape of the letter ‘W’, one for the letter ‘I’, five for the letter ‘S’, Three for the letter ‘H’, five for the letter ‘G’, five for the letter ‘R’, six for the letter ‘A’ and ‘N’ Two for ‘T’, four for ‘E’, and with the last letter being ‘D’, which had three fingers on them. 37 fingers, were nailed in your walls, with the words being....

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃.

...

...

You were utterly shocked, repulsed, scared, evident from the way your eyes were protruding out of their sockets.

You instinctively recoiled by taking a swift step backwards while simultaneously covering your mouth with your hand in disbelief.   The intensity of the sight before you was so overwhelming that your stomach twisted and turned, disturbed by both the visual and olfactory aspects of the situation.

Your gaze shifted anxiously from each finger that protruded from the walls, their bloodied presence revealing the exposed phalangeal bones, their hues tainted by the crimson fluid. Overwhelmed with revulsion, your head whirled in a nauseating manner, unable to tolerate the repugnance before you.

As the sensation of vomit surged uncontrollably, you swiftly clasped your abdomen, succumbing to its intensity and disgorging the contents of your stomach.  

As you expelled the contents of your stomach, the regurgitated food landed repulsively on the ground.   Simultaneously, you struggled to catch your breath, your throat and esophagus ablaze from the corrosive stomach acid that accompanied the vomiting. Overwhelmed by a burning sensation, you instinctively clutched at your chest in despair, desperately gasping for air.

This reaction was unprecedented, as these circumstances were nothing compared to the gruesome crime scenes you had encountered before.   However, the sight that now haunted you was beyond horrifying—The scenes on the crime scene might be more brutal and horrifying in the perspective of others, but fuck, this was more horrifying in your point of view.

Fingers were grotesquely displayed upon your walls, gruesomely nailed in place. Both severed fingers from hands and feet were arranged in this macabre exhibit, leaving you utterly revolted.

As you breathed heavily, your lungs felt burdened and your chest throbbed painfully. Gradually lifting your gaze, saliva slowly trickled from your mouth, intermingled with traces of vomit that had inadvertently stained your clothes. The previous cut on your foot, which once caused you considerable discomfort, seemed inconsequential compared to the searing pain originating from your bruised esophagus.

As you carefully observed the fingers, There was a significant change in the size of your pupils—It shrunk down in shock. Some of the fingers had an unmistakable feminine appearance, while others displayed a more masculine quality. The sight of these fingers caused a sharp, involuntary reflex as you instinctively averted your eyes, overwhelmed by a sensation that made you cringe in discomfort—You felt as if you were going to vomit once again.

“Come on, breathe, [Name]...”

You told yourself.

The offensive stench of severed fingers combined with the repugnant odor of your vomit further intensified your disgust, while your chest continued to burn fiercely.

“Calm the fuck down, [Name].. calm down... breathe..”

You urged yourself to regain composure, but despite your efforts, you couldn’t manage to achieve it.   The intensity of your emotions caused an overwhelming surge of hot tears that pooled in your mouth, leaving you surprised that you still had the capacity to cry given the torrent of tears you had shed upon discovering your boyfriend’s infidelity.

The bitter taste of regurgitated stomach acid lingered in your throat, a distressing reminder of the moment when you couldn’t contain the contents of your stomach any longer, resulting in a forceful expulsion and a fiery sensation in your esophagus.  

Overwhelmed by despair, you found yourself clutching at your hair, desperately digging your nails into your scalp as you pulled at your [H/c] colored tresses, hoping that this agonizing reality would dissolve into a mere figment of your imagination or a horrendous nightmare.

Already enduring a dreadful day, this traumatic scene shattered your fragile emotional state, sending waves of anguish through every fiber of your being, making you fear that you might lose consciousness.

With each successive backward step, your cheeks were drenched in a seemingly endless stream of briny tears, as if the act of retreating physically symbolized your desire to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil consuming you.  

With trembling and unsteady hands, you hastily reached into your pockets and frantically retrieved your phone.

It almost slipped from your shaky fingers, but you managed to tighten your grip on it. Filled with fear, you immediately dialed the number for your department, desperate to share the terrifying news that had just unfolded before your eyes. The sheer terror coursing through your veins made it difficult to steady your voice as you trembled with every word you spoke.  

“Please, please, pick up!” 

You couldn’t comprehend how these gruesome objects could have appeared in your fucking bathroom without your knowledge.   Fingers, bloodied and gruesome, were inexplicably plastered on your wall, mocking you with a message that sent shivers down your spine.  “Wish granted” it read, like a sick joke or a cruel twist of fate—What kind of sick psycho would do that?

You are in danger.

Deep down, you desperately hoped that it was all just an elaborate prank, but the harsh reality crept in as you realized the horrifying truth.   This was real.   The sight of the bones protruding from the severed fingers, the nauseating smell that permeated the air; it was all too real to fucking deny.  You were in danger. Someone broke into your house and placed those nasty things, you will probably be the next victim— no, no, you shouldn’t think like that, you needed to fucking calm down. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Pick the fuck up, come on, come on, please, please!!”Your voice cracked with desperation as you urged the recipient of the call to answer. After what felt like an eternity, they finally picked up on the other end.

“Fuck, fuck...”

You breathed out, the relief that washed over you was drowned out by the urgency in your voice as you struggled to convey the gravity of the situation. 

“I need help, fuck, fuck, please... i need it asap!” Your words were slurred and rushed, with your fear causing you to stumble over your sentences, barely able to articulate your pleas. 

“lieutenant? What’s wrong? You seemed to be panicking.”

“Come here, please, please, come here as soon as possible!   I’m begging you!” Your voice quivered with a mix of terror and desperation as you practically wailed into the phone. The overwhelming sense of danger that loomed over you threatened to consume your every thought, leaving you trembling in its wake.

“Lieutenant [Name], calm down please, i cannot understand you, breathe lieutenant.”

The person on the other end of the line tried to calm you down, struggling to understand your panicked state.

“No! P-please! I beg you!   I-I’m in danger! I need help, ASAP!” You cried out, your voice cracking under the weight of the fear that gripped you. Gathering whatever courage you had left, you knew you had to escape the horrors that surrounded you.  Without hesitation, you dashed towards the door, paying no mind to the disarray of your appearance. Your hair was wild and disheveled from the frantic tugging and pulling, while your clothes were stained with the remnants of your own vomit. You didn’t even bother to slip on your shoes, desperate to flee as fast as possible, clutching onto your phone as if it were your only lifeline.

“I-i’m in danger, s-someone just fucking— blood, blood everywhere!”

You shouted frantically, your words tumbling out in a rush.   The sight of disembodied fingers had sent you into a state of panic and fear.   As you hurriedly fled the scene, your foot unintentionally landed on the broken shards of the road, causing searing pain to shoot through your body.   Despite the agony, you dared not glance back towards your dwelling, consumed by the urgency of escape. Each breath you took was labored and heavy while physical exertion and emotional turmoil that coursed within your veins.

“Lieutenant, please take a moment to catch your breath,” the concerned voice from the other end of the line implored—you were talking too fast after all and your breaths came in ragged gasps.

The person on the call was genuinely worried about your well-being, but the sheer intensity and speed of your words made it challenging for them to grasp the full extent of your distress.   What did you truly mean by ‘fingers’? The mention of that word stirred memories within them, reminiscent of the horrifying ordeal your boyfriend and best friend had endured just hours before.  Both of them had suffered the gruesome fate of having their fingers, hands, and feet forcibly severed.   And now, here you were, frantically babbling about fingers and succumbing to panic.   Your rapid-fire speech only served to further hinder comprehension. 

“Lieutenant, please try to compose yourself,” the voice urged, attempting to soothe your frenzied state once more.   This behavior was uncharacteristic of you, as you were never one to succumb to panic easily, unless something truly devastating had befallen you.    

Between sobs, you managed to utter,

“Fingers on my walls, blood...   blood was everywhere.” The words trembled with anguish and terror as you continued to run, tears streaming down your face.   The sight that had confronted you was undoubtedly traumatizing, imprinted in your mind like a horrifying image that refused to fade.    

“And i fucking know who those fucking fingers belong to!” you suddenly declared,

“They’re from Earl and Jhenicca!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuckling quietly to himself, Jack discreetly pressed the play button on his phone once again, the soft melody of the recorder filling his ears through the earphones he wore.   The recording, which captured your horrified scream upon discovering his little surprise gift for you, played on repeat as he leaned against the walls of your bedroom.

The sound of your screams, like a symphony to his ears, resonated deeply within him. As he listened intently, tapping his gloved hand against his masked face, he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t get the chance to witness the ‘gift’ he had carefully prepared for you in your bedroom. 

Unbeknownst to you, while you were having your break down, he had been concealed within your closet all this time, meticulously recording each moment of your suffering.

Every cry and retching sound had become music to his ears, fueling his sadistic pleasure. As was his usual routine when stalking you, he overheard your emotional breakdown while you were alone in your car, expressing a fervent wish for your unfaithful boyfriend and treacherous best friend to suffer a painful demise. And so, he decided to grant your fucking wish!

In his twisted mind, he saw himself as doing you a favor by eliminating the people who had caused you pain— They deserved nothing but torture and pain upon hurting you and he couldn’t help but wonder how that pathetic excuse of a man managed to pull someone like you.

Fuck, you were just so cute when you were wailing that he couldn’t help but want to hear that pretty cries of yours more, and so he killed your boyfriend and bestfriend to add more pain and make you more vulnerable, break you apart. And he killed your beloved bestfriend and boyfriend for you, after all, that’s what you wanted, right? right? right? You wanted this. You wished for this.

He deserves to be praised for doing such a great job in making you mentally unstable.

You provided him great amusement. as always in the past, you would display intense effort in attempting to identify the perpetrator and obtain even the slightest hint. Your unwavering determination, firm resolve, and intellectual capabilities were captivating, drawing him towards you.

For him, it was particularly enjoyable to unravel the complexities of someone as resilient as yourself,  and break that fucking adamant nature of you, unlike certain shy timid schoolgirls who become frightened merely at the sight of blood.

He sought amusement and you were the sole individual capable of providing it to him without inducing him in boredom.  

Your breakdown both surprised and amused him greatly, providing him with a sense of power over your vulnerable state.   The scent of your blood,  when your feet were cut on broken glass, wafted into his nostrils, providing an intoxicating allure that seemed almost heavenly to him.

And it made him wonder about how you tastes like.

[pearlesscentt]

pancakes for two

haechan x reader, college!au, fluff, 477 words

"i might have a crush on you."

haechan's sudden confession caught you off guard, causing your fork to clank against the plate. you glanced around the bustling diner to make sure you didn't disturb other patrons — most of whom your fellow students who are either restless from school work, or curing a hangover, or both — and to see if anyone else had overheard what he just said. your wide-eyed gaze locked with his, as he returned it with sincerity in his eyes. you could tell he was nervous because of the way he shifted in his seat across from you.

this quaint diner had become your shared haven. a saturday tradition for the both of you which involved an earl grey tea for you and a cup of coffee for him, two stacks of pancakes with maple syrup, and a platter of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns to share.

for some reason, you still remembered vividly how this tradition came about; it was three years ago, you and haechan were just acquaintances that had a bunch of mutual friends, it had been a long night of drinking punch that tasted suspiciously like gasoline and sprite, and it was even inclusive of the brutal hangover that came after.

three years later, here you were in your regular booth, sitting across from each other like the first morning. you'd only gotten closer with each other over the years and you hadn't stopped coming here since.

"actually, i really do have a crush on you," he repeated, his voice now more resolute and confident. he reached for his coffee, swiftly downing the cup like it was water.

you bit your lip as you tried to come up with a response. "really?" you finally managed, fiddling with the fork on your plate. "because i have a crush on you too." you added with a smile, and both of you burst into fits of giggles.

"we're so cheesy," you remarked between chuckles.

"i know," haechan agreed. the laughter subsided after a moment, but his gaze remained fixed on you. instead of the jitters earlier, he now radiated warmth and beamed at you with a loving smile. "three years of friendship and two years of being together, and i still have the biggest crush on you."

"happy 2nd anniversary, my love," you said. the busy saturday morning chatter in the diner faded into the background as butterflies fluttered inside you — a familiar feeling you had come to know since meeting haechan. in that moment, all you felt was joy and contentment, appreciating the pleasure of sharing your favorite meal with your favorite person. it was a feeling of profound gratitude for the luck, the foul-tasting punch, and the stacks of pancakes that had brought you together.

he reached over across the table to hold your hand. "happy anniversary to us, indeed."

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[terresdebrume]

Oh hey also, guess who's started on the next down on my knees installment x)

"Jenny."

Jenny's shoulders stiffen, and for a second it almost looks like she's trying to pretend like she hasn't heard Crystal, which in the one hand is kind of fair since she doesn't have a long lunch break, but on the other hand Crystal really, really needs some pointers right now.

"Jenny!" She hisses, like she needs to be quiet, "I need advice!"

"Why, Crystal?" Jenny sighs, slapping a hand on the table and levering Crystal with the most baleful glare in her repertoire—and Jenny's kind of the archetypal goth. She's really good at glaring. "Why do you keep coming to me for advice?"

"Do you see another adult in my life I could go to?" Crystal asks, wide eyed in disbelief. "I'm not asking you to be my fucking mom, I just want your opinion on something!"

"The deal was," Jenny says, visibly giving up on her sandwich and starting to fold the foil around it again, "that I don't ask questions and you don't bother me. I was very explicit when we signed the lease!"

"Okay, and how many times in the past year have I come to you for life advice?"

The answer is three times that Crystal can recall. When she first moved in and she didn't know how to get her colleagues at the supermarket to stop treating her like a baby, when she'd figured out she actually did want to go to college but wasn't sure if she should ask her parents to help her with it, and when that one random hookup decided to slip the condom off in the middle of things and she was so out of sorts she didn't remember [Planned Parenthood] was a thing until Jenny sat her in the car and drove her there. Three times in almost a year and a half really isn't that bad, honestly. Jenny must agree, too, because she heaves one last big sigh and gestures for Crystal to come into the kitchen and sit at the table.

"It's not gonna take that long, I promise," Crystal says as she sits down. "It's just. Remember how I told you I was bringing a guy home last night?"

Jenny's entire demeanor changes immediately.

"What did he do?" She demands, "Did he take your shit? Did he hurt you? Did he try to force you into something? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm okay!" Crystal promises, raising her hands as placatingly as she can manage. "I'm okay! He's nineteen too, his name is Charles, we had a lot of fun and in fact, I'm planning to ask for his number because he seems pretty cool."

Jenny frowns in a way that makes it really hard to remember she's only nine years older than Crystal and not her mom. Not that Crystal has that much experience seeing her mom react to her problems, since she doesn't go to her parents with them, but their assistants certainly seemed to make that face often. Crystal waits while Jenny's pinches the bridge of her nose and takes three big breaths, and then Jenny puts on the strained flat-mouthed expression that means 'I am thinking of different ways to kill you right now' to say:

"I fail to see what the problem is."

"Well," Crystal sacrossing her arms over her chest, "he's kind of uh. Still here."

Jenny glances up at her wall clock, which Crystal knows for a fact says it's about a quarter to one. Jenny make a considering face, then with an air of profound regret she says:

"At the risk of learning more about your sex life than I ever wanted to know, at what time did the two of you finish yesterday?"

That's also easy to know. Crystal hadn't planned on bringing anyone back yesterday because she wanted today free to take care of her hair and re-dye her tips, and whe's learned the hard way not to do that when she's exhausted. The only reason she asked Charles back, aside from the dimples and the easygoing nature and how he's the exact opposite of David so far, was because they ran into each other early and she figured coming home at midnight would give them time to have fun and still get some decent sleep. The last thing she remembers before falling alseep is watching her alarm clock tip over to one thirty in the morning.

"And you let him hang around for eleven extra hours?" Jenny exclaims, shocked.

"He's not 'hanging around'," Crystal corrects with the most sarcastic airquotes she can muster. "I know how to handle the morning after conversation! He's still asleep."

"Oh my fucking god!" says Jenny, dropping her head into her hands.

"I'm trying to be nice!" Crystal protests, but that doesn't stop Jenny from groaning for at least a minute straight.

[whirling-fangs]

Soft clatter of metal scrap across wooden flooring, the burn of oxygen leaving him gasping so softly for the air his body refused to taken. His whole form covered in many different healing wounds. Ranging from critical severity to left over bruising. He’s only just awaken from the final battle. One of the four surviving Hashira, the first to wake up between the twins.

He shouldn’t be on his feet, yet he was. And here he was, stumbling, tripping just a bit, but he steadies himself with the help of his iv hanger. Yet. He carefully walks.

Well. Stumbles. Until he reaches his destination. Inosuke’s bedside.

Where he sighs so softly, carefully setting down besides him. And with a shuddering hum, he reaches his nimble fingertips out and carefully ran through those black blue tipped locks. With a tired smile, unnaturally pale skin, he hums softly.

“….t…Told ya.. you dumb boar. I promised. I promised I’d live. We both did. Mui hasn’t woken up yet, but he’ll be okay.”

“But I’m up. I’m here. I heard you.”

Time had become a blur. Ever since Inosuke had woken up in this bed, with a familiar ceiling above his head, the hours (or were they days?) had ticked by so slowly that he could almost feel them slide across his skin. "

It didn't take him long to gauge the seriousness of his injuries. The damage was profound, but none of it was beyond repair. His flesh had been sliced into over and over, the blood drained from him, cuts mended and opened again, muscles pulled to their furthest limit... but he didn't break.

With those few seconds of introspection out of the way, Inosuke's mind was free to rush to what really mattered: the fate of his comrades. Some names he didn't have to speak to the blue nurse, his foggy memories turning sharper as some visages floated across his mind. A butterfly clip in the empty-eyed girl's hands. The nurse's own expression, carrying a sadness beyond words.

For some of the names, the nurse could not give him an answer. Soon she was called to duty again, to tend to those whose fate was undecided. To those who were still fighting.

And so Inosuke could only wait, wait for those excruciating seconds to tick by... until slumber got hold of him once more. He drifted to a heavy, uncomfortable sleep, broken only by a gentle touch running across his scalp.

Blink. Blink. His eyes opened wide at the third time, a bandaged hand immediately grabbing the boy's wrist.

"You... what are you doing here?! She's gonna kill you! Shinobu..."

His voice died in his throat, a choked cry, his grip loosening around Yuichiro's wrist. The elation he had felt upon seeing those turquoise eyes had been fleeting, crushed by the weight of the losses they had all suffered. It took him several seconds, but Inosuke managed to put a smile upon his own face again.

"I knew. I always knew you'd survive. Now sit down, you idiot.. or the blue nurse will take away our dessert."

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 9

Hello! I've finally managed to access my documents which means I'm posting on time! I do apologise for the random POV change throughout, but it was the only way I could get what I wanted to write flowing properly. I also just want to say thank you to those who have given me support, you all mean the world to me. But other than that, enjoy! <3

Summary: Welcome to Middle Earth! We're currently in the Shire, though not for long. Dark times are ahead. Enjoy your stay!

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1716

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

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Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 >

PART 1: Chapter 9 -

The Teletubbies could never

Numinous (Definition): Feeling both fearful and awed by what is before you. (Adjective / Origin: Latin / nu·​mi·​nous)

The place was almost identical to how we had pictured it.

Round hallways of cream framed by planks of dark, golden brown, with intricate furniture taking up every possible area, but nothing disorganised, each object having found it’s place.

“And you call me a hoarder.” I murmured to Kay as we both stared. She didn’t retort straight away this time, too busy absorbing the sight in front of us as I picked up and fiddled with some random object.

“Holy fuckkkk.” Was all that she eventually said.

“Excuse me!”

Damn, I almost forgot he was here. Bilbo seemed to find his voice quicker than earlier, marching over, a frown on his face at Kay’s choice of words. I made sure to discreetly slide the thing in my hand back where it was whilst watching the ordeal amusedly.

“I would very much appreciate it if you refrained from using words like that.” He lectured; one arm tucked behind his back as he wagged a finger at her. I snorted quietly at the sight of Kay looking down at him with wide, guilty eyes. And the fact that swear words existed here. “Such profound language will not fly here, especially with me.”

Looking down myself, it occurred to me that I didn’t realise that he would be this small. No matter how many times I stood a measuring tape next to me, I couldn’t really comprehend his size back home. If he headbutted me right now, his head of bouncy curls would only just reach the bottom of my ribcage. I mean I’m 5’9, so he was always going to be miniature next to me, but even comparing him to Kay, who only reached around my nose at 5’4, next to her this guy was the definition of tiny. He looked as though he couldn’t hurt a fly.

However, he most certainly had proof of denying that last statement, his feisty mothering personality most certainly making an impact, as levelled us with a stern gaze from two and a half feet below.

Oh right, we’d hardly spoken a word, let alone to him directly, and we were currently in his house!

“So sorry! I – uhhhh.” Kay began hesitantly, before elbowing me. I eyed her accusedly, but quickly looked back down at the hobbit.

“Oh! Uhm, I don’t suppose you know where we are?” I questioned.

He looked between us, perplexed as he was most likely trying to reason why two women were probably wandering unknowingly in the forest behind his hobbit hole. He had noticed earlier as he politely investigated our rucksacks, unbeknownst to us, that we carried no weapons, and the contents within didn’t look as if they would last them a day. We most certainly didn’t look like merchants or travellers. He didn’t even go on adventures and he knew us two weren’t cut out for travel.

“Why, you’re in the Shire of course!” He answered. “Now, what business do two big folk have coming to Hobbiton?”

“Um.. no business?” I replied.

“We’re lost!” Kay chimed in.

“Lost?” He frowned. “What on Middle Earth were you doing, getting yourselves lost?”

“Well… We went to visit a waterfall, near our home, and haven’t been able to find the way back since.” Explained Kay, figuring the truth was the best option.

“And we’ve errr— never been to or heard of the Shire,” I added, half-lying. “So we must be incredibly far away.”

“Never heard of the—! By Valar you must be far from home!” He spluttered, his slight irritation from them landing in his garden now replaced by a new wave of sympathy, as he realised these girls with their nervous eyes, muddy, ripped – also highly unusual – clothes, entangled hair, and just their overall dishevelled appearance, seemed to truly be a bit too far away from anywhere familiar for their liking. A slight twinge of guilt panged in his chest at his slightly unorthodox attitude earlier, clearly they were in some state of shock.

Taking in a bit more, he also noticed they seemed a lot more injured than he thought, watching as they’re expressions contorted uncomfortably whenever they moved, along with one of them nursing a bandaged hand that had blood seeping in some places.

As for me, I absorbed as much of his appearance as I could whilst he spoke. As aforementioned, he was unusually short, considering the faint lines on his face didn’t show signs of childhood youth, and observing further, I saw that he had the strangest of features. His ears, half hidden by his curly locks, were wide and pointy, reminding me that of an elf. I secretly gawked at his feet, because they were the most abnormally large feet I had ever seen, especially for someone who didn’t even look as if he hit 4ft. Not to mention they were incredibly hairy. Along with his handmade dressing gown, looking as if it was crafted from a quilt blanket from some charity shop.

How peculiar.

“Sooooo,” I began as a sudden thought came to mind, drawing Bilbo’s attention. “How did we end up in your house exactly?”

“Well,” he began, albeit slightly nervous. “I happened to find you both quite knocked out, and I wasn’t going to let you both freeze to death in the pouring rain, so I took the liberty of taking you both in and lending you the guest room.” He explained, waving his finger down the hall at the room we just came out of.

“So you’re saying you dragged two unconscious strangers… into your home?” Kay questioned, a slightly concerned look on her face.

“I mean, it’s not often that—that we get big folk around these parts.” he rambled as he shifted on his feet, feeling the tips of his ears turning pink under the pressure of our slight interrogating. “Certainly not ones that I-er, find falling from my roof.”

“Your roof?!?” We both replied, completely perplexed.

“Well by the sounds of it, you had quite the tumble!” He exclaimed with a slight laugh, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the front door. “Landed smack dab right in the middle of my bush, you did!”

“Oh, then where were we…” I trailed off.

My stare wandered from Bilbo to the door at the end of the corridor, and within a moment I was down the hallway, ducking under beams and through archways until I arrived at the door. It took me a second, but I managed to figure out the handle and it wasn’t long until I was in the fresh air.

Kay had followed, leaving the poor hobbit trailing after us in confusion. Coming to a stop next to me, we took in a sight we never thought would be possible to see.

Rolling green hills stretched in front of us and we stared. And stared. As if we haven’t done that enough already over the last day or so. And I then realised that it was the hobbit’s circular doors that I had tried to make out through the distance in the rain last night.

By the looks of it, and by some miracle, we had stumbled mindlessly into the bloody Shire. I mean, we would’ve known if we were in the goddamn Shire yesterday if it hadn’t been so DARK. Neither of us could even begin to describe how we felt, all I could do was really try my best not to scream or cry as I dug my fingers into my palms, and I could guess that Kay was having a similar reaction. Who wouldn’t? The Shire was literally the dream place, and we were stood right in the middle of it. Not the movie set, no, like, the genuine real Shire, and with, by the looks of it, real hobbits.

My mouth just hung open as I whipped my head around, feeling both amazement and excitement rise within me. “Whaaaaaatt the—” I started, but stopped myself from completing that sentence, feeling Bilbo’s stern glare on the back of my head.

Finally shaking myself out of it, I carried on with what I came out for. Scouring the ground, I spotted where we had landed, the now half-flattened bush twisted oddly and I gazed uncomfortably at the splots of our blood dotted around, the red shining in the morning light against the vibrant green.

Taking the path down to the closed gate, I stepped over it, not bothering to take the time to open it since it barely reached past my knees, though being careful with my injured ankle. Taking a few more steps back, I managed to be able to look up the hill Bilbo’s house resided in, following the trail of flattened wet grass and mud streaks until I zoned in on the top.

There was the grass bank we were on! Though now I realised it was a hill, with several chunks missing, along with the evidence of a miniature landslide.

Looking back at the two remaining confused at the door, I called out.

“We must’ve accidentally wandered here, and we’re travelling across the top of the hill when we fell!” I explained to Bilbo as I pointed. Kay raised her eyebrows and nodded in both agreement and realisation.

Now happy with our explanation, Bilbo clapped his hands to get our attention.

“Right!” He declared and we both looked down at him, jumping at his sudden switch. “Follow me!”

He waved his hands about, frantically beckoning us towards him as he led us back into Bag End. Me and Kay shared a quick glance, excited grins on our faces as we followed him back in. We both bent over at the low height of the door frame, me doing so the most, much to the chagrin of my ribs, but we were able to straighten out as the ceiling inside stood somewhat tall enough. However, I could still feel the ceiling brush the top of my head when I stood at full height, and I realised my time spent here would consist of me avoiding any ceiling fixtures along with the low, circular doorways. ‘But it was forever worth it, considering where I was currently’, I thought to myself, making sure to dodge the chandelier in front of me as we walked deeper into the hobbit hole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[thelongestway]

some very sudden and unoriginal Star Trek Prodigy thoughts

do we know from anywhere that the Living Construct was developed by the Vau N'Akat?

because I was just thinking on the thematic parallels of two civilizations suddenly tearing themselves apart. to a point, this could be a product of the Vau N'Akat sense of poetic justice. but I am suddenly not so sure it was. now, I might be deeply misremembering, but I woke at 1 AM to write this, so hear me out.

either the fault lines in Vau N'AKat society need to run deep enough that slight provocation could tear them wide open, or… the Living Construct is neither Vau N'Akat nor Starfleet. Instead, it's entirely its own. Perhaps something of an eldritch opposite to the Borg: an entity which tears apart social connections instead of forging them by force. Most obviously by messing up language; a living punishment for daring to build a Tower of Babel. But perhaps also in more subtle ways?

and who should be able to work on that ship if not people whose existence has hitherto been defined by profound, destructive loneliness? who are always resigned to the possibility that it could, in the end, be their fate?

there is nothing more the Construct can do to those who have lived and breathed loneliness and know it as the baseline norm of existence unless they do something about it with their own hands. Who would it attack? Dal, the only one of his kind, raised by a particularly ruthless Ferengi? Rok-Tahk, perceived as monstrous and dimwitted when she is curious, smart and kind? Zero, who has already lived through being torn away from their people and their link, and has been used as a weapon for who knows how long afterwards? Jankom Pog, alone on a Sleeper ship, with his bitter "if there's one more problem I can't fix, how can I call myself an engineer" and dreams of royalty? Murf, who is too alien to participate in most forms of communication the others form together? The only person who has had even shreds of recent belonging was Gwyndala, and that ended on-screen, with "You chose the ship."

and Janeway. the right way, the wrong way, and the Janeway way, as that recent post said on the insane, warping loneliness of command and loyalty when you're 70k light years away from home (or however long it was). and the Protostar Janeway cannot even rely on her experience being lived.

but the Construct knows Protostar Janeway, and it knows what she misses. so it stays dormant and infects an optimistic Starfleet, used to Community.

In this context, the Construct could easily be the first cause, and at the same time the Vau N'Akat could just as easily have thought it originated from Starfleet. Imagine if the Protostar came in with that weapon embedded in it (from Wormhole shenanigans*), and collectively Chakotay and the Vau N'Akat figured it out too late, at which point the Vau N'Akat decided it was Starfleet's plan all along. Chakotay crashing his ship Prophets knows where makes sense: isolate the isolator. In this case, the Borg being weird about the construct makes sense (need to rewatch), and also Zero being able to just walk out on them. Way less attack surface.

And another thing: the training the Diviner puts Gwyndala through is insane. he wasn't just preparing a wartime interpreter, that'd be a couple of languages plus a Drednok. Teaching a child… Dozens if not hundreds of languages? Why? What past war and experience was he preparing her for? Why make her learn ways of thinking until she could know most of the races in the galaxy blind? Was he ensuring that, no matter what, she could reach someone? Even if everyone else were to be affected - in the land of the blind, the one-eyed lady is queen.

I really, really want to see how season 2 will handle it. and I have faith that they will, and that they will find a new home. we need more linguistics in our science fiction, and even if this theory is totally bonkers, the themes of loneliness, understanding, and literally being able to speak to one another will be there. because the writers are good, and that's what they chose to explore, and showed it like 5 min in of episode 1.

I think Suzette Haden Elgin would've loved Star Trek Prodigy, and that it would be a high compliment.

*crack version: it's a stray Pah-wraith. Instead of "why do you exist here", it goes "you HAVE and WILL ALWAYS exist HERE". The Bajorans were mostly immune to them for the same reason the Prodigy crew is: there is a limit after which loneliness and uncertainty become the default, and then those beings lose their power (and the people thrown into it? die or have the kind of scars we're shown). And also this is how they get Kai Winn - after what, four decades including concentration camps and empty prayer? Took 'em a while EVEN WITH the seeds planted for them by Winn Adami herself!

[consideratepig]

Terrible Lie (a Don't Starve fic)

SAN FRANCISCO POLICE DEPARTMENT —INCIDENT REPORT

Case Number: 006-74891-106-1565

Officer: Detective Lt. Caboto

Unit: Homicide

Date of Incident: Unknown(1905)

Remarks: The following passage is an excerpt from a journal entry thought to have been written by William Carter, the journal page reads:

‘I believe I've made a terrible mistake… It wasn't supposed to be like this. I followed every step correctly, all the conditions were right, everything should have gone exactly as planned… Let me explain: I found a passage in the codex the other day, with information that would allow me to give ordinary objects innately magical properties. In theory, this would allow me to turn my top hat into a storage space for any props I wanted to put in or take out at a moment’s notice. It was the perfect way to bring my magic show to the next level, perhaps even bringing respect back to my tarnished name….Was. In hindsight, I’m only grateful this was an isolated occurrence that happened during a rehearsal and not in front of Charlie, let alone an audience.  Initial tests with sending playing cards and scarves through the portal were a resounding success, however when I tried to retrieve my rabbit there were ...complications. Whatever abomination I pulled from that hat, that definitely wasn't Georgie…In fact, I’m not even sure it was any kind of rabbit at all.  That creature’s shadowy silhouette is one I won’t soon forget. Its coarse fur was dripping with a substance that was as viscous and black as tar. Its limbs(?) were twisted and broken in multiple directions, most likely a result of being forced through too small an opening for its bulky body. I would’ve believed it to be dead, until I approached its body and it drew several gurgling, ragged breaths.  As I stood there, frozen and at a loss of what to do, it suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream of pure  primordial agony, its mangled form twitching and thrashing itself wildly on the floor. When I gazed at what I assumed to be its face, It kept looking up at me with beady wet eyes that pleaded for answers as to where it was, and why it was in so much pain...'

Mirror Links: AO3

When the initial shock wore off for the frightened stage magician, it was only a matter of time before a spontaneous surge of adrenaline kicked in. Without missing a beat, William grabbed the nearest heavy object he could find and with all the might he could muster in his atrophied muscles, he lifted the hammer over his shoulder and bludgeoned the writhing mass of fur in a desperate attempt to put it out of its misery. It was a mercy for the poor critter, or at least that's what he told himself.

To its credit, it didn’t fight back once during its brutal beating, but  after enough trauma to the head, it finally stopped moving. The air he was breathing felt cold and oppressively still for a moment, before the creature’s body rapidly decayed into a puddle of bubbling black sludge.

William dropped to his knees, his body trembled like a leaf and his dress shirt was soaked in a cold sweat. As he struggled to catch his breath, he could taste a drop of blood as it ran from his left nostril. Between the book’s magic and his test of strength, the man had put a great deal of stress on his frail body all at once.

The poor fool’s vision began to tunnel, he felt an overwhelming sense of dizziness and sickness in his stomach while frozen in terrified, wide-eyed disbelief over what he just saw. Was that thing really George? Or was it merely responsible for the rabbit’s disappearance? Was it even real at all?

William's eyes darted back and forth, his mind drowning in a cocktail of intrusive thoughts, extreme stress and profound sadness. His expression changed from fear, to horror, to disgust and finally, crushing guilt. He tried to double down on his self-doubt and tell himself there was a reasonable explanation of what he just witnessed, it couldn't be real… just an effect of the magic going wrong, a figment of his wild imagination, an optical illusion conjured by the stage lights- it had to be.

"Wh… w-what…?" That was all he could manage to get out, eyes shifting between the puddle of muck and his bloody hand, still firmly grasping the handle of the rubber mallet. As his breathing began to even out, William managed to compose himself just enough to wipe the blood from his face. Only a small streak of it was actually his, if one could consider that fortunate.

William was left with a sinking, horrible feeling in the pit of his gut; the reality of the situation hit him like a bare knuckle boxer. He just took a life. A twisted mockery of his prop bunny, perhaps even some horrible demon, but still, a living, breathing creature. The guilt and shame of it was staring at him right in his face with two cloudy corpse eyes and he couldn't take it.

The rubber mallet fell from his shaky grip, loudly clacking on the stage floor as he broke down and braced his trembling hands on the ground for support. William's shoulders tensed, his upper body quickly leaned forward and every hair stood up on the back of his damp neck as he was subjected to a violent fit of retching. The mental image of broken bones poking through putrid, festering flesh & fur wouldn't leave his mind and made him even sicker from the sheer insanity of it all.

"No… No… What have I done?" William sobbed and choked out between heaves, his glasses were slipping and becoming hard to see out of due to the excessive movement and moisture, but he didn't dare reach up to fix them when he felt so unsteady he might slip and fall into a puddle of his own vomit mixed with….whatever sludgy remains that thing had left.

William's mind was running at a mile a minute, his anxiety and stress only getting worse as he struggled to process what had happened. Instinctively, he wanted to be angry and lash out, but his fear kept him in check. His thoughts were a flurry of disturbing images and emotions still fresh in the forefront of his conscience. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"This is-…This isn't real, this isn't real this isn't real this isn't real…" William quietly repeated the mantra to himself, his voice breaking down & face contorted into a grimace as hot tears poured out of his eyes. He felt his heart attempting to beat its way out of his chest and he shuddered and let out choked, sucking sobs.

The magician's sobbing quickly turned into heaving coughs and hyperventilation as he slumped against the wall, slowly descending into a more and more catatonic state of shock. He was completely unprepared, both magically and emotionally, for what he accidentally brought into this world.

His bleary eyes darted from the corpse of his fuzzy friend, to the bloody hammer, to the blood on his own hands, to the puddle of puke that was seeping into the rug.

In the back of his head, William could hear his inner voice chastise him for his failures, not to mention how expensive it was going to be to get that mess deep cleaned. Try as he might, however,  all the negative reinforcement in the universe couldn’t allow the rattled magician to move from his current spot.

William eventually curled up in a fetal position on the floor, eyes brimming with tears as he continued to loudly sniffle and shake uncontrollably. The words his mind conjured up to berate him certainly didn't help, his rapidly racing thoughts telling him he's an abject failure, a mess, a horrible person who's taken an innocent life with his powers and he doesn't know how to cope with it.

William knows he has to snap out of this stupor he’s found himself  in, but his mind feels a million miles away from the body that’s supposed to be his. The overwhelming sense of guilt and shame has its hold on him, he'd never wanted to hurt anything or anyone, especially not one of his rabbits. William had spent years working tirelessly towards becoming a successful stage magician, even as his weak health made it difficult to pursue a career. All those years lost to the battle against Consumption and all for what? All for nothing? Nay, all for tragedy.

As William cried to himself in the corner, the goo from the remains of the creature’s body began to crawl towards the magician. Slowly and deliberately, the blob slithered towards him, and wrapped a claw-like appendage around his throat, constricting his windpipe. William knew he had to move, but he was paralyzed with fear. All he could do was gasp for air and watch in panic as the entity began to strangle him.

William's wide-eyed panic only grew as the shambling mass of darkness slowly enveloped his entire neck, gradually cutting off his airflow. He fought against it as much as he could, wriggling to escape its grasp, but it was futile. He had a sinking realization that in his current state, he wasn’t strong enough to remove it himself.

"Please, help me! Someone help me, please! For the love of God, please! Help me!" He frantically cried out for help, his eyes water even more as he started to see stars dancing across his fading vision. He could feel himself becoming lightheaded, his vision fading to black.

"H…help…"

Every time William tried to speak, it was like the shadowy figure was encouraged to strangle him harder. His face turned a flushed red, then a brilliant shade of purple from asphyxiation. Right when he was so light-headed he thought he was going to pass out, his would-be killer was interrupted by the sound of the rehearsal room door unlocking from the outside.

"Hello? Mr. Carter, is that you?" He recognized the voice belonging to Charlie, his assistant he hired last week, calling out to him. Almost instantaneously, the decomposing mass let go and slithered off to the shadows, disappearing from sight  like it was never there to begin with.

"William, are you still here? I'm so sorry I'm late, I overslept and missed my bus..." She called out again, from where he was sitting William still couldn’t see her and evidently she couldn’t see him, but he could hear her closing the door and shrugging off her raincoat.

William took a couple sharp, raspy breaths, coughing and spluttering as he gasped for air. He tried to pull himself up, but his weak limbs refused to cooperate - he was completely drained and barely had any strength left. He heard Charlie's voice calling out to him, but it was difficult for him to find the words to call out for her one more time. Still, it wouldn’t kill him to try, and it just might if he didn’t.

"Y… yes! I'm… h… here… Ch… Charlie." His voice was hoarse and raspy, still recovering from the incident. He let out a sharp exhale and collapsed back down onto the floor.

"There…there's…there's something in the rehearsal room!" William choked out in a strained voice. He grabbed his throat, still trying hard to catch his breath between coughs, and gasped  "In the corner there--please--help me..."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Charlie asked as she stepped into the room, wearing an expression of befuddlement as she looked at the scene before her. She knelt down next to William and helped him sit upright, her warm eyes full of pity and concern for his well-being. William coughed and tried to clear his throat, still struggling to speak in his exhausted state.

"I’m sorry but, I don't see anything in the corner…" She muttered to herself with her eyes narrowed into a puzzled expression, she investigated the area briefly before her demeanor suddenly changed when a possible explanation dawned on her.

"Wait a second, is this a part of the act? Am I supposed to figure out what you made disappear and how you did it!? Oooh, this is exciting!" She proclaimed with a smile and such enthusiasm that, had it been any other set of circumstances, the magician would’ve found it remarkably endearing.

"N-no, Charlie… there was… n-nothing's h… here now…" As his words trailed off, his eyes drifted over to the empty corner of the room, where he was certain the blob of nightmares was before. Sure enough, there was just a wet patch of carpet in the spot it used to occupy. William's gaze rapidly shifted all around the room as he tried to figure out where it disappeared to and what exactly had happened in the last few minutes. Nothing made any  sense.

"I… don't even … know anymore." He finished with a sigh, looking absolutely hopeless and defeated. Charlie's expression faltered and wore a pensive frown, she kept looking at William with an almost palpable level of concern. She didn’t know what had given him such a fright, but in any case the man clearly wasn't doing well. 

"William calm down, deep breaths okay? I don't know what you saw, but the janitor gave me the keys to lock up right before he left for the day. There’s nobody else here now but you and me." She explained with what she hoped was an assuring smile, trying not to sound scared by how the man she'd barely known a week was acting like he'd seen a ghost. 

William sighed and held his  head in his hands, he felt utterly helpless. He knew what he saw, but now the evidence was gone, the monster was gone. He was scared…he was so scared…His face twisted with frustration, defeat and helplessness. Perhaps it would be best if his assistant wasn't any the wiser to what had transpired, he wouldn't even begin to know how to explain what he saw, even if he wanted to.

"I just…" William let out a deep sigh again, his emotions still all over the place. "I just need… I think I need some rest."

He leaned back, resting his throbbing head against the wall once more. After a brief moment of collecting his thoughts, he gave Charlie a tired smile, a sign she could tell he was just a bit too exhausted to function properly.

"Could you… could you walk me to my room?" He says while he rubs his temples, face covered with a fresh sheen of sweat and eyes deeply sunken in, as if the fool hadn't slept in days. "Ple… please." He added,  clearing his throat.

Charlie nodded, a hardened look of determination crossed her normally soft features as she offered William a sturdy  shoulder for support on the way to his dressing room. In spite of being over a head taller than her, he soon realized Charlie was a much stronger gal than she looked. Or perhaps, William had lost more weight than he realized as of late… although, the likelihood of it being an amalgam of both hadn't slipped his mind either.

William leaned nearly  his whole weight on Charlie and kept himself awake with his thoughts as she led him to his dressing room. He felt so exhausted that he would have slept standing up if he'd had to. Charlie's presence was a welcome comfort, though. He didn't mind it one bit.

As they got to his room and stepped inside, William just let his body crumple and gracelessly flop onto the couch, resting his head on a nearby throw pillow as Charlie looked on. He sighed again to catch his breath, mind too cloudy to even try and think about how awful he was for making his kind assistant care for him like this.

William groaned softly as he settled down on the sofa, taking his glasses off and keeping his eyes screwed shut since the room was so insistent on spinning each time he opened them. Several moments of silence passed, Until he heard the sounds of his assistant's heels clacking on the floors out the dressing room door, followed by the sounds of Charlie returning as she placed a glass on the table next to him.

William finally cracked open an eye to look over at Charlie. He sat up slightly, giving her a smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What's this for?" He asked curiously, glancing down to the glass on the table like it was poison. It was clearly meant for him. "I'm not exactly in the mood for a drink."

"Relax, Willy. It's just water, you probably need it after getting sick so suddenly" Charlie explained as she insistently passed him the cup with two tablets of his headache relief medicine.

"Oh." William said softly as he swallowed the large pills and washed them down with water, the cool beverage admittedly felt soothing for his scratchy throat. When he’d had enough, he set the glass aside with a loud exhale of relief, his eyes drooping again.

"Thanks, Charlie." He looked over at her with a grateful expression, but before he could say anything else, a yawn escaped him. William’s eyes closed soon thereafter and he found himself in a fitful sleep, left to the devices of his guilt-ridden subconscious. His dreams were filled with images of a theater going up in flames, shadows were closing in on him and his assistant, with the screams of  hundreds of people dying and the smells of their charred flesh filling his nostrils.

As he tossed and turned, his faithful assistant Charlie never left his side. Like clockwork, she wicked away the sweat on his feverish face with a damp cloth, gently supporting him and patting his back each time a hitch in his breath disturbed his sleep with body spasms or a violent fit of wet coughs.

When William truly woke up, he was drenched in a cold sweat. His head was throbbing with an immense pain, feeling fit to split open any second like a rotten melon. His heart dropped as his eyes wandered to Charlie, whose soothing fingers were stroking away pieces of  his matted hair.

"Huh..?" He grunted while he looked around, disoriented by the dark room. Charlie's weary smile seemed worried and a tinge too fearful for comfort. The sight of her in such a haggard condition jolted him back to reality, and he suddenly remembered everything that happened earlier all at once. The man's stomach lurched as it was too much to bear and in response to the mounting nausea, he quickly sat up.

William cupped his mouth and roughly gagged into the palm of his hand, bringing up little more than watery bile and remnants of the bitter pills he swallowed before. Luckily, Charlie was quick to react to his situation and stuck the empty water glass under his chin, just in time for William to spit up the rest of his stomach's meager contents into something less disgusting than his lap.

Charlie rubbed his shoulders and whispered words of encouragement into his ear, as the sick man was wracked with a painful episode of dry heaves. William was at the mercy of his nerves and could do little more than cough, gag and belch pitifully through the worst of it, leaning into her touch like it was the only thing grounding him to this plane of existence. William groaned as he spit up the remainder of his stomach contents into the once empty glass. He could feel his eyes roll back as he clutched his head and moaned softly, utterly exhausted and in a great deal of pain.

"Ohhh, God…" He whimpered softly and took several shallow, gasping breaths while holding two fingers up against his bruised neck. His pulse was racing and he felt like he had a permanent lump of coal stuck in his throat. He’d had his fill of finding himself in life or death situations as of late,  he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for an eternity. "What… what time is it?"

"Half past eight, you've been asleep for about four hours…" Charlie answered, dabbing the cracked corners of his filthy mouth with a cool washcloth. If she looked tired, he could only imagine he looked like death warmed over with how Charlie was doting on him.

"Four…hours…?" William took a minute to process the information. It felt as if he had just shut his eyes for a few minutes.

"It felt like… much less than that…" He mused, a pensive expression crossing his face for a brief moment, before being replaced with one of lethargy..

"I'm tired… Can I rest here a little longer?" William asked her while he leaned his head back against the pillow and shut his eyes again. The pounding in his skull was slowly  fading, but the weariness and mental exhaustion were still there. What a mess.

"Of course, I'll call us a cab and wake you up when our ride is here, alright? Don’t worry, I'm sure after a bit of rest, you'll be feeling like your old self in no time." Charlie spoke with a small smile, though even William could see she was putting up a front, the blatant worry she wore on her face had betrayed her optimistic tone of voice.

"Alright…that sounds good." William spoke softly after he nodded at her, eyes still closed and slowly drifting out of consciousness. He felt what little energy he had was drained just from that little bit of conversation.

He didn't hear Charlie's footsteps as she left the room, too exhausted to think about anything else strange that could come. Maybe she was right, maybe it would all be fine after a good night's sleep. With the worst of his headache gone and with Charlie watching out for him, he felt comfortable resting again.

In a moment’s time, his head lolled to the side and quickly drifted off to a much deeper sleep this time around. The events of earlier that day were a distant, fading memory now. At a loss of how to move on from here, his mind spared William’s weak constitution by sending him off to a facetious inner world reminiscent of a simpler time. At least in his dreams he posed no threat to the ones he loved and despite Charlie's best intentions, William wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

[s0fias]

@ataviisms said: this is the time for conquering.

It could be theirs, hers. Gotham City is awake, wide-eyed and viable to be conquered. A wild animal begging to be tamed. You know, she thought it was what she wanted. To be someone this city couldn't ignore. To be not another of its victims, who it ate with greedy teeth and spit out in pieces. But the thing with taming wild animals is that they like to bite back. And Sofia isn't sure how much more bleeding she can take in the name of a fight that's not even really hers.

❛ What if I don't want to conquer? ❜ It feels profound to ask. Yet again, it's evidence of the trust she has in Waylon, in the way she doesn't lie or pretend to be bigger and badder than the others. Wanting the city would be simple. Something tangible. Wanting more is entering frightening territory. ❛ What if I'm too tired? ❜

[goddevouringserpent]

1 and 2 for Nimka?

What is your Watcher's class? How does it relate to their backstory?

ooh, so Nimka's class is kind of a funny thing in that I've played her as… way, way too many things. (what can I say, the combat system is ridiculously fun so I really enjoy trying out new classes and multiclass combos.) not counting the attempts that never went anywhere—I vaguely remember some capital C Choices involving Barbarian—we have Cipher, Wizard/Monk, Wizard/Rogue and Druid/Rogue, with the latter being the only one that's "stuck" so far, because:

a) her size/build make it so that a fighting style that relies more on dexterity & guile works better than one that relies on sheer strength, and she can't always fall back on magic; b) I believe that most clans in the White that Wends would have a very strong druidic tradition, to which hers would be no exception, so she would have been trained in druidic/animist arts from a very early age, once it became apparent she hadn't inherited her mother's cipher abilities; c) I like to think that she learned her rogue skills during the PoE1-to-PoE2 timeskip, as a "know thy enemy" thing (need to watch out for assassins when you're the Lady of Caed Nua, and what better way to do that than by learning assassination methods yourself!)

so really it was kind of like… a domino effect thing, haha. things falling into place that made it so that Druid/Rogue worked out well for her, mechanically and thematically. might change somewhere down the line, but for the time being that's where she's at. and it helps that "Pathfinder" is also an excellent description of her!

What is your Watcher's disposition?

depends on the game! Benevolent is the only one that remains steadfast as one of her major dispositions through both PoE1 and PoE2, with Clever also making appearances here and there, but her personality changes a lot from one game to the other.

PoE1: Benevolent, Clever, Honest, Passionate. reflecting a Nimka who steadfastly clings to her values & morals, who refuses to be silenced or back down, but who is also… naïve, in a way? she has been travelling for most of her adult life, so it's not like she's sheltered, but she's just undergone a traumatic event and, alongside the pretty significant cultural shock & language barrier (her Aedyran is not as good as it is in PoE2), it can make her come across as tactless, or clueless, or lacking certain social skills, or unable to understand boundaries..., etc etc etc.

PoE2: Benevolent, Clever, Diplomatic, Rational, bits of Deceptive/Shady. being in charge of Caed Nua broke her spirit. she's in mourning, heavily heavily traumatised, struggling with so much survivor's guilt that she even feels guilty for being guilty—and that's just what happens post-Eothas Demolition Services, because really the things that led to her changing were part of a slow, years-long process as she tried to juggle the responsibility of Caed Nua (something she had neither wanted nor was prepared for), the newfound knowledge that the world Does Not work how she would like it to, the events of the past year which she is still trying to cope with to the best of her ability, the profound loneliness she feels even with Edér nearby in Dyrford, and so on and so forth. she essentially sheds a lot of her wide-eyed idealist spark and becomes way more efficient but also way more jaded. she's going through it 😔